[Other FULL] Λtlantis Λwakening [IC] [M]

Retro Bug · Nov 19, 2013

- Delta Mayor (featuring Imogen Green & Natalia Zaytsev)
Toulouse, France -

The ability to hear and pay attention was lost due to the snarls, growls, and snaps of the beast's jaw. Fending off the Atlantean hellhound was taking its toll. The adrenaline had already made its way through her system Delta was surviving on the last bits of it. Against her better judgment Delta had tried things Dom's way, which had been quite the mistake. She waited for the creature to approach her again because this time Delta was putting it out of its misery. A grin formed on Delta's face as she raised her gun when the beast launched itself forward. Her opponent never had the opportunity to reach her; a large, metallic hand had its grip around the neck of the beast and threw it backwards into the bay.

"Oakley," Delta hissed under her breath.

A surprised Delta had been teleported to the jets by The Librarian. It was told to her that an Atlantean only had a single ability and two Atlanteans couldn't have the same ability at the same time. How in the world did The Librarian defy this by having teleportation and invisibility? Teleportation belonged to one of Wyatt's partners... Delta knew there was something she wasn't being told about this man. Once everyone had been gathered except Devon whom she hoped was currently drowning. However in the next moment The Librarian unfortunately teleported away and when he came back he was carrying a soaking wet human or, rather, Devon. Emil, who Delta had never seen anything but calm, became an overprotective parent in two seconds flat. His sharp words became accusations thrown at Specs and The Librarian. Amused, Delta just stood there and smirked before she noticed that the Unification Project had their group of Royal Family captures as well.

A series of words strung together by The Librarian drew Delta back to the conversation. He had said he had a wide array of abilities. Surely that wasn't possible, just who was this Librarian? His ability must be some sort of copycat type. This led Delta to ponder how many abilities he truly had. He clearly had power; The Librarian dismissed Emil with the threat to no longer help the organization, which meant he was a resourceful asset. The Librarian turned towards her... and Dom, who Delta only recently started to pay attention to. Words were spoken at her but they were for Dom, to Delta it was only reminded of how not to rely on Oakley in the future. The large crystal on Oakley's hand was chipped at and The Librarian then held up a piece of it while giving an explanation throughout the whole thing. Basically it was an item that made the weak weaker. It made Delta's stomach churn she wanted the full range of her ability at all times.

As if he was some sort of present giver one by one The Librarian gave or did something for them. Before permission was given Dom's watch was fixed and was now infused with the Atlanteanite. Delta's rolled her eyes as The Librarian handed her a key, but refused to tell her what it unlocked until she "mended" her first impression, whatever that meant. Oakley was then told to give Devon some necklace. It was all very showy and Delta didn't like it one bit. She palmed the key before she slipped it on the lanyard around her neck that already held two keys, one silver with spots of pink paint and one gold. After his goodbye The Librarian disappeared and they boarded the aircraft where she sat next to Dom and a serious looking woman.

Per usual they were debriefed; Atticus spoke of the other Atlantean group, which meant Wyatt, Adrian, and the teleportation guy. How the AUP had ten of the captured ARF members and would soon ask them to join their ranks. The best tidbit of information was saved for last, they were finally going to know the true plans behind the Atlantean Unification Project: New Atlantis. Atticus ended his debriefing by saying they could come to him with any important information and those with a certain security level could look at the reports. Curiosity ate at Delta; she wanted to know what the reports said. Perhaps she could hack her way into the right security level, though Annie had taught her skills and was most likely the one who developed the system they used. For now that would have to wait. Was it right to tell Atticus the names of the Atlantean's she had encountered? She had been the only one to actually meet and team up with them... The plane taking off shut down any thoughts Delta had of getting Atticus' attention.

Eventually Delta succumbed to her tiredness, as all the fighting had been exhausting. She had small injuries, lacerations, bruises, and the two bullets that were still lodged in her arm. When they landed in France Delta opened her eyes quickly having not have realized that she had fallen asleep. A shrug of her shoulder slid her jacket down enough for her to see that her arm was still crystallized. Somehow, someway she had to get those bullets removed. The second she shifted her arm back an unfathomable amount of pain would take over. This meant she had to see Specs, great. Having been around to see Dom Delta knew where Specs would be and got there as quick as could be. If she cried, only Specs would see and if he whispered a word she'd be sure to kill him first.

Specs was told of her situation and urged her to transform her arm back so that he could see the entry wounds. Instant pain pulsed from the wound when she reversed the crystallization of her arm, so much so that yelled and swore out in Polish. Blood poured down her arm from the two holes, Delta thrashed away from Specs touch, leaving a few vials smashed on the ground and dents in the operation table. Soothed by the anesthesia that Specs offered her Delta was able to lie down and let him continue the operation. It was soon over, Specs had removed one bullet, stitched up the entrance wounds, and wrapped the injury, but one was lodged in a position that was better to leave it in Delta's arm for now. Specs warned that physical activity was best avoided, Delta heard half of that sentence because she already out the door.

Her mind was on the mission, as she tried to shift her thoughts away from the lingering pain, for it had taught Delta that gun's weren't as all powerful as she imagined they were. Another weapon would've been able to slay the beast she was sure of it. Walking away Delta navigated her way through the headquarters to a location where she soon saw Imogen. As much as Delta was going to regret this interaction after their one of the ship Delta needs to be trained was greater than her insecurities.

"Imogen," Delta announced herself presence to the elder girl. Delta knew if she kept a straight face Imogen wouldn't be able to read her, "I need to be trained in other types of weaponry."

Imogen, unsurprised by Delta, raised her eyebrows. Surely Imogen had made it clear enough that she was not the one for 'doing work'. That was for the lackeys. She had much more important things to do. Like, at the moment, her nails were in clear need of a file. Everything else would have to wait.

"Do you now? That's nice, sweetie," she said, her eyes trained on her fingernails as she carefully filed them to the perfect length. "Shouldn't you be lying down somewhere in the recovery position waiting for your next lot of meds?"

Medication would have required being around Specs for longer than Delta could stand. Crystallization was utilized each time the pain reached a level that wasn't tolerable or brought on annoyance. So far, this whole not feeling pain when crystallized part was Delta's favorite development in her ability. Unfortunately she knew there was a downside to it, but for now she ignored it.

With a voice full of confidence and a pinch of arrogance Delta replied, "Perhaps if I were weak, but I'm not." She was still curious as to exactly what Imogen did within this organization though, the sooner this conversation with Imogen was over the better. "Clearly, you aren't capable of training me properly. Tell me who can and where to find them."

"Whatever you say honey." Imogen smirked a little. This little obsession of Delta's was some kind of mixture of confusing and amusing. She was sure she could probably get Delta to do all kinds of unnecessarily reckless things if she called her names. What a child. "Y'know, you're not going to get very far if you keep insulting people you want information from." She looked up from her nails, giving Delta a condescending look, as if Imogen was teaching basic maths and Delta just couldn't grasp it. "See, if you had asked politely, I would happily tell you that if you want to know anything about weapons, you should probably go see Natalia. Since she's the most skilled weapons specialist here. Beside myself. But no, I'm too busy being incompetent and incapable. Sorry!" Her eyes returned to her nails.

"If I wanted advice I'd go to someone I'd actually care to listen to," Delta retorted and began to walk away, how dare Imogen try to act like she was some primary school kid who needed tutoring. She would speak to anyone in any fashion that she chose to. There was always more than one way to get information even if it wasn't the most convenient way. Natalia was the answer, but Delta hadn't the faint idea who she was... Which meant she had to ask Imogen another question.

Delta turned on her heels toward Imogen then she grasped the keys around her neck as a way to focus. "You wouldn't happen to know what she looks like, would you?" Delta asked slowly.

"Better. I mean, you did insult me again, but progress is progress." She placed her nail file on the table next to her, moving onto the nail polish. Today's colour? Bright red. Rather dazzling. "Black hair, a little older than me and she has really good posture. Very Russian looking. But you know, Del... if you say please, I could just tell you where she is."

***

The clicks of her five inch heels stopped once she reached the location that Imogen had provided even if Delta did have to say that word. If there was one place where Delta avoided being it was where AUP members would congregate and that was the function of this room. Even though Delta had visited Russia many times "Russian looking" was a term that was still a bit lost on her. She recognized the serious looking (was that what Russian looking meant?) woman who sat next to her and Dom on the bus who had black hair and looked older than Imogen. Whether she liked it or not Imogen was right. Delta had a feeling that this woman wouldn't take too kindly to attitude.

"Natalia, right?" Delta waited by the doorway before she walked closer waiting for confirmation. The woman turned her head and nodded. "Del." It was a strange phenomenon, having to think before speaking. "I was told you were the best person to come speak to about weaponry. I want to be taught something else."

Natalia sat behind a computer in the big room, which at the moment was rather desolated. Usually, the big room was filled with activity, members discussing events and watching the big screens which displayed some part of the world. All of the screens were turned off and the room was rather ominous, but Natalia liked the quiet.

"Did you have anything specific in mind?"

"Something..." It had to be something other than a gun it needed to be, "Sharp. A weapon that matches my close range fighting style."

"And have you ever used anything close range before?" Her accent wasn't harsh but it wasn't subtle either. Like she had grown up in Russia and lived the rest of her life in England.

Russian accents weren't as foreign to Delta as American and British ones. It was nice to hear another Eastern European accent but Natalia's wasn't as distinct as the ones she had run across in the past. "No, that's why I'm here." Delta bit her tongue too late. It was a natural reaction for her to retort with a comment laced with attitude. "I mean, I need help learning which one to chose and how to use it in synchronicity with my combat style." God, how she hated this.

"Alright then, Del." Natalia stood up, pushing her chair in. "Let's find somewhere a little more appropriate to do this. Follow me."

* * *

"So are any of these," Natalia had led Delta to one of the training rooms on the lower floors. She gestured to the large collection of close range weapons in the large, chained cabinet (which she had the keys for) at the back of the room, with them ranging from long swords to senbon. All were fairly modernised (some had attachments that could have an electrical current flowing through them) but mostly, they looked dangerous, "what you were thinking of?"

Weapons varied from large and small, blades, sharp points, but the one thing they all in common was they were beautiful and deadly much like Delta. Long swords were nice, their blades would certainly cut an opponent to bits but they were too long for them to work well with Delta's fighting style. She liked to stay up close and personal, which meant the smaller throwing weapons such as senbons and knives were out. Delta ran a crystallized finger over each of the blades after she had taken off a glove.

Her eyes were widen once she sat a gaze on a pair of what she assumed was daggers. "These," her words were soft, as she took one a single dagger from the pair into her hand. The silver blade curved out at a certain point and was engraved with an intricate pattern, which Delta traced with her finger. Its hilt was mostly black excluding the gold band at the top, middle, and bottom. Engraved in the golden bits were the same extravagant styling as the blade, out of the top and middle bands there were claw-like extensions that branched off gold band. They were perfect.

"What about these?"

Natalia nodded, gently taking the dagger from Delta, and pulling the second one out herself. She also pulled out something else before closing and locking the giant cupboard behind her. She placed them all on hooks (the other items seemed to be two sets of wooden versions of the dagger), walking past them and to what seemed to be a record player.

"Close range combat is all about being one step ahead of your opponent. It's important to develop a keen eye and be able to predict where your opponent will be next. As well as that, it's important for you to be able to control your feet and where you place them. A wrong step means death. So, first, you must learn the basics of grace, posture and footwork. This means, you must learn to dance." She put the needle of the record player on the record itself, music flowing into the room. It sounded like some kind of generic ballroom music, a waltz, but Natalia had picked it specifically because you could use it for almost any dance.

"I've invited the best dancer in the AUP as your dance partner. I believe you've met him before." The doors opened as if on cue, and in waddled Misha, that dopey grin on his face like always. Of course, he didn't look like the most graceful of men, but rest assured, Natalia had seen him move.

Delta raised an eyebrow and groaned, "You aren't serious, are you?"

First, dancing? She had danced once before with Nathan and she hated every last bit of it. The men were always meant to be in control they were the ones who led and that was something that didn't sit right with Delta. Second, it was with Misha. Truth be told Delta preferred Misha's company over any of the other higher ups, but there was only so close she wanted to get to him. Hell, Delta was ready to listen to the Misha give the lengthiest book review if she could get out of this. Third, the music. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

Natalia frowned slightly. "I am always serious when it comes to training someone in weapon combat. It's either you learn my way, or not at all. Your choice."

"Don't be shy!" Misha gave her an encouraging nod. "I promise not to step on toes. Haha!"

Her first choice was to walk out the door that Misha had squeezed in, but no it wasn't an actual option. Delta walked over to Misha, God, if anyone ever saw this she would be absolutely mortified. As soon as it was over she would deny that it ever happened.

"Don't kill me, okay?" A heavy sigh was let out after she had spoken.

"I svear on my mozer's grave." He lifted his hands, gesturing for her to take one. He was polite enough to not put the other hand on her waist, but her shoulder. He was too tall to put a hand there anyways. With a word from Natalia, he beamed at Delta and led the way.

* * *

It turned out the dancing had been a rather vigorous and heart pumping exercise. At first, they had worked on step work and posture of many classic dances. When Natalia had seen enough of that, she had asked Misha to instead of leading the way, let Delta lead the way with Misha using sloppy footing and Delta had to not only avoid it, but try to work with it and correct it. After that, it was a battle of who could step on whose feet, while still maintaining perfect posture and rhythm. Misha had tried to be rather light with his footing but being the large man he was, that wasn't the easiest thing in the world.

"The point of this is that when you are battling close range, the point is that you must fight to be the leader. You must be the one who is leading your enemy, be the one who is one step ahead. If they are leading you, then you will be sloppy and try to follow their footwork. You must be in complete control of everything. Your body, their body. Remember this always."

It was a lot of work. If there was only thing Delta hadn't thought wouldn't be a challenge it was dancing but she had definitely been proven wrong. She just wanted to get to the real combat where she could utilize the daggers. The advice Natalia was giving made sense except if she had done it at the beginning than they could've skipped this whole ordeal.

"Can we actually do combat now?" Delta tiredly asked. Natalia checked her watch. It was getting late, but if Delta had the energy to do this, she would comply.

"I hope you realise that learning this kind of combat cannot simply be done in one night? That after we do this, you'll have to return again to properly learn this. Do you understand?"

A little too eagerly Delta responded, "Yes, yes I know." Who cared if it was only one night because who knew when the next time they would be sent out on a mission? The next time she fought Delta wanted, no, had to use these new weapons no matter how hard she had trained with them. She held out her hand for one or both of the daggers.

"Alright." She tossed Delta a pair of wooden training daggers, Misha taking his seat to watch. She took a pair for herself and wielded them, as if she was ready to strike. "Show me what you've got." Delta grinned and did exactly that.

Swolligator · Nov 19, 2013

Curtis Morwood – London, England

November 10th, 9:12pm GMT

Even though it had been a couple of weeks since Curtis had signed up as an Atlantean, he still had little to no grip on his ability. Clubs refused to let him in while restaurants asked him to leave after pointing to signs that all said variations of 'No Atlanteans Allowed'. Hundreds possibly thousands of people worldwide were developing abilities, and it seemed as if the moment they became Atlantean, the world forgot the fact that they were once human. As he walked along the lonely sidewalk he looked down at his hands and forearms which glowed ever so dimly, appearing much lighter in the blanketing darkness around him. Sometimes he enjoyed having this ability as a neat party trick, other times he despised his inability to turn it on and off at will. Curtis shivered as he pulled his hood further over his head, it was definitely becoming a lot colder in the capital now and winter was coming.

As he rounded the corner, he heard the roar of laughter from a couple of older kinds idling suspiciously in the street. A sharp scent assailed his nose as Curtis realised they were smoking something other than tobacco. When they saw his glowing beneath his hood, they all grew silently quickly as Curtis tried to skirt around them.

He was almost past them when the one closest grabbed him by his hood, pulling back to reveal his glowing face in the night. "Lookey here, I caught one of dem Atlantis peeps." The others snickered as Curtis felt himself forcefully pushed into the space between the four older, larger guys.

"Dis one glows in the dark, eh? Like a widdle night light?" They all cackled now, causing Curtis to hunch up his shoulders more as he grew increasingly threatened.

Another one sitting on a brick fence pushed himself off, walking up to Curtis and staring him right in the eyes, "Turn it off, scum," the guy spat in his face.

"I-I-I don't know-w how t-to" Curtis stammered, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach.

"He told you to turn it off, mate, so do it!" another jeered from behind.

"I said turn it off, or I'll give you something else that shines!" the boy threatened again, this time holding his fist in the air as if to punch Curtis. The others behind him continued to jeer and cheer at the guys' threat.

"I c-can't!" Curtis yelled as he hunched himself over further, waiting for the kids to start laying into him. He scrunched his eyes up as tears now began streaming down his face; he was surely going to get beaten now and all because of his useless ability. Inwardly he berated himself for not practicing to better control it rather than the flaunting he had been doing lately.

He was genuinely scared, he had heard on the news of Atlanteans rioting in Canada, imprisonment of Atlanteans in Russia and persecution in the Holy Lands of 'devil spawn', but rarely was it televised of the discrimination within Britain. There had been whispers here and there of an Anti-Atlantean gang that had information on some Atlanteans and people would meet up to help tear their lives down. Curtis just hoped these guys had the decency to leave him with even an inch of his life.

When he looked up, Curtis was surprised to see the group of older boys had walked off and that he was standing hunched all alone in the middle of the footpath. Looking around, he could not see neither hide nor hair of anyone else and set off back home at a quicker pace. He wiped the rapidly freezing tears from his face before shoving his hands back into his pockets to muffle the glow. He replaced his hood, pulling it even further over his face to obscure as much of his glowing as possible from anyone walking towards him. He cast his head down, tears still dripping to the pavement below as he continually reassured himself he had escaped.

Without thinking, he turned into the same park he would travel through on his way home from school each and every day. It was a shortcut to the street just behind his house and would cut off minutes from him having to walk in the cold. As he made his way closer to the centre of the park, he began feeling uneasily anxious like the shadows were creeping in to choke him. Sick laughter echoed around him as a fist caught his right eye, a foot slamming into his stomach, winding him as Curtis bent over. Followed by an elbow to the back, Curtis crumpled to the ground as four legs began laying into his foetal body. He tried to cover his head and chest as much as possible, but the beating seemed to go on for hours even though it had been mere minutes.

It all stopped, beaten and bruised Curtis tried crawling forward in the darkness as he felt his body swelling in many places and no doubt bruised all over. Fingers curled around the brim of his hood as a twisted evil smiled illuminated in the glow from his skin. The wide eyed, wide mouthed face produced a switchblade from one of its hidden pockets, the 'schink' as the metal blade opened caused Curtis' heart to begin beating rapidly.

"I told you to turn it off, Atlantis scum!" the same voice that had threatened him before returned as the knife disappeared only to sink its cold, sharp tooth into Curtis' stomach. After two more stabs he heard the soft patter of footsteps as the misfits ran off into the night, leaving Curtis broken, bruised and bleeding in the middle of the park.

Cold, alone and scared he watched as his vision began to fade, tears streaming down his face as he realised how the people he loved would feel. A single snowflake drifted down and landed on the bridge of his nose as the last, shuddering breath left Curtis' body; dissipating into the cool winter air. And there he lay, eyes wide open and glazed over as around him, snow began to fall softly.

Quest · Nov 20, 2013

Thayne Clark, Julian Morales, & Dominique Bisset - AUP Hospital Wing, Toulouse, France

After a sharp pain in his arm forced Thayne awake, he stuggled to open his eyes, straining to see the room around him. He could feel an IV being embedded deep into his arm and for a second, Thayne thought he was still in that room. That horrible, brightly lit cell. He slowly attempted, exhausted from the events of the last night, to push the needle away, wanting out of the horrible place he was trapped in.

"Now, now," the voice at his side said softly, "it's alright. You're not on that ship anymore, you're safe now. I won't hurt you, I'm here to help you, I promise." The voice placed somethng over Thayne's face, and with a few deep breaths, he was back to sleep.

* * *

He was in the room again, his body still restrained in the same position as he was before. The lights were still there, somewhat brighter than before. He attempted to block out the lights, once again forming the dark, protective sphere. His power seemed to last a lot longer than it had before, but it wasn't the lights that stopped it. Just past his shield was an outline of a man, slowly coming towards.

Thayne could hear his screams echoing off the walls, seemingly as if an entire room of screaming teens were there. His shield completely dropped, letting the man with the syringe come even closer.

* * *

His own scream seemed to wake him once more. Urgently, he pushed himself upwards to see yet another white room. He could tell right away it wasn't the same, after all, he was in a bed instead of being chained to a wall.

He could tell he was in a hospital now, the machinery quietly buzzing on one side of him. He could see the usual things one would find. He could see the TV, the sinks, and even the door to the bathroom. But what surprised him the most was the man near the second bed.

He was a taller, dark-skinned man. His white lab coat coverng the light green scrubs often seen in the possession of doctors. "H-h-hello," asked Thayne, his voice stuttering.

"Oh!" The man turned around, giving the young man a smile. "You're awake. That's good news. And your vitals are all great. How are you feeling?"

"I'm..." The post-teen trailed off as the plethora of dark memories flooding back. "I guess I could be better."

"Well, that's what I'm here for. My name is Julian Morales. What's yours?"

"I'm Thayne. Thayne Clarke." He quietly looked around, still slightly wary of what could happen. "Where are we?"

"The hospital," another voice (this time with a French accent, not English) answered inside the room. On another bed behind Julian was another dark-skinned man, though by his looks Thayne could guess he was probably the same age as him. It wasn't very clear from his face whether he was annoyed or just tired.

"Close." Julian gave the interrupter a small smile. "You're in Toulouse, in France. In the headquarters of the Atlantean Unification Project." He adjusted some settings of Thayne's IV and moved on to the next bed. The one occupying this one was unconscious though. In fact, the entire room asides the three of them were. "Did you need anything, Dom?"

"No, I just thought this would be a good place to sit down," Dom said with obvious sarcasm. He sighed and continued. "I need you to check out my arm."

Julian nodded, quickly finishing up on his current patient and stepping over to Dom. He gestured to him to show him the wounds and almost gasped as soon as he saw them.

"You should have come to me sooner!" he scurried to grab all kinds of things; numbing alcohol, a scalpel, and a pair of tweezers.

"I had to take a shower!" Dom reasoned as if cleanliness was priority no matter the situation. Admittedly that shower had taken more than an hour. Dom wanted to get all traces of guard-innards off of his body--that, and he may have fallen asleep. He raised a brow and looked down at his arm. It was discolored, badly. Colors he didn't know arms could even have went up and down a good portion of his limb. In both places he was shot, Dom could see two cauterized wounds. He had already looked all of this over earlier and it hurt like hell. Still, he didn't regret picking the shower over giving Spectacles a visit. "So how long is this going to take?" Not only did he want to sleep, but he wanted to miss that breifing thing.

As the doctor ran around to grab what he needed, Thayne continued to stare at the young Frenchman's wound. He was... Enthralled by it. The wound looked as if it was burnt shut, cauterized while something was still inside. What happened to this kid, he thought. Was it his power that did this "What exactly happened to you?" he asked curiously. He partly hoped it wasn't rude.

Dom took his eyes off Spectacles and turned them to uh... That guy. Dom didn't exaclty know who Thayne was, just that he was sitting across from him and had introduced himself earlier as Thayne Clark. He was alright to look at, but certainly nothing to overshadow the random-guy-asking-questions thing. Was he someone in AUP? Or was he one of those ARF jerks he was forced to save. Either way, Dom wanted to avoid him.

"I was on the ship to help save those ARF kids." Dom answered, too tired to dance around the question. "Were you one of them?"

"Yeah," Thayne said nervously. Am I the reason he's like this? he asked himself. Part of him couldn't believe another teen was sent to save the rest of them, yet he could tell. He could hear the stone cold sincerity in his voice. He was hurt because Thayne was captured. "What exactly happened on that death trap?"

Julian returned as they spoke, tools in hand. He had also brought a gown of sorts, handing it to Dom and insisting he shower again and change to avoid contamination and infection. When the disgruntled boy had returned, Julian had Dom lay on his back on the bed and rubbed the wound down with rubbing alcohol, the applied skin now tinged yellow. With warning, he also inserted a needle to numb the arm faster. The lack of light would worry most doctors but every time his heart beat, Julian could feel the vibrations around his body. He hadn't even opened the skin before he had diagnosed the situation.

"Dom, you've melted the bullets. I'm going to have to cut your arm open. It's not deep enough that I have to put you under, but did you want to be conscious while I do this?" Julian had his tools by his side on a tray, his favoured tools for this being the scalpel and the tweezers.

Melted bullets? Dom looked at his soon-to-be-treated arm. He couldn't believe that the bullets had actually melted. How had they, exactly? It didn't take long for his mind to go back to the ship, when the fire roared in his ears and his outer limbs felt like they were on fire. Maybe that had been it. For a split second he wondered how hot he had gotten, that, he had to admit, was the first time he'd ever felt it. After the Librarian, in an act that he had mixed feelings about (a lot of them negative), restored his watch Dom had felt uncomfortably hot. The kind of hot you felt when you wore a jacket in hot weather. In time the feeling wore off and he was cool again. Now that it was on his mind, he couldn't decide whether that was just the weather or himself.

Dom looked up and nodded his head. "Yeah." He wasn't exactly a fan of needles. Not scared just... not a fan. Dom looked back at Thayne across from him. What happened on that ship? Too damn much, and he said just that. Bullets, burns, bears, and blood. Thinking about it made his stomach churn. "Where do you want to start first?" Dom didn't want to discuss the boat at all, but maybe talking to Thayne would further support his reasons for disliking the ARF.

Thayne looked at the wounded teen as he spoke. He seemed troubled about what had happened. It was almost as if the events had scared him slightly. Could that really happen? He looks as if he could take a lot compared to most yet there's just something off... And... How did he melt the bullets? Does he control fire? Thayne merely sighed to himself. I'm just thinking about too many things...

"Well, I guess my only question is, why is it that the AUP were the ones who saved me? I'm being trained by the Royal Family, yet it was you and your friends. Why? Why would you do that?"

"The top one." Julian placed something over the top of Dom's arm, to slow the blood flow. He also had Dom lay back (he was not flat down, but propped up by pillows) so that if Dom flinched, he wouldn't do something silly. Of course, it wouldn't hurt (Julian had already numbed it with the syringe) but something the brain plays all kinds of tricks on you. "We as an organisation wish for peace between Atlanteans and the ungifted. Many of us have felt the prejudice and cruelty of those who are jealous and scared of us. You were being mistreated. We could not abandon our people, especially youths, no matter what faction you call your own."

"That and the Royal Family aren't all they're cracked up to be," Dom said from the bed. "We didn't even see any of them on the ship." They didn't run into the ARF at all. They really knew how to get on his bad side.

He carefully cut open the top wound. Blood immediately started flowing out but Julian was ready with a steralised cloth to avoid making too much of a mess. When he had cut deep enough, he swapped tools to the tweezers and carefully started searching for the bullet. It hadn't spread out too much, thankfully but it still would be more of a hassle to remove than a regular bullet. He finally heard and felt the vibrations of metal on metal and with a small tug, the bullet came free. He reached with his other hand for the scapel, cutting the wound open only slightly, giving the bullet enough room to come right out. He placed the bullet in a bowl of water, giving Dom a good look of the melted mess he had made of it. Julian stitched the wound back up and got started on the next one.

"You're a bit hot." Julian could feel the heat radiating off Dom's wounds, as if they was a car that had been sitting out in the sun too long. The heat was not as sticky and spread out as it had been last time Julian had been this close to Dom (that must have been in the streets of France) but it still felt uncomfortable. "I make up an ice bath for you, if that would help?"

Though he was slightly surprised that Julian had answered, Thayne still thought heavily of his reply. At the mansion, he was told multiple time the Atlanteans in the AUP were similar to a company that had just started making something new. They thought the AUP had no idea where they could stand, at least, successfully. The thing was, all of these kids were kidnapped not from the AUP, but from the Atlantean Royal Family and the worst part of it all was, they weren't even saved by the them.

Thayne couldn't help but look down in sorrow. So many of them were tortured, simply because the higher-ups felt too surely of their powers. "I guess I have to say thank you. To the both of you, and the rest of your team."

He knew the words honestly wouldn't hold much. They were just said as a way for him to have felt he did something in return. But could he do more? He didn't want to go back to the Family at this point, so maybe...

"We're only glad to see you alright." Julian gave Thayne a smile.

"No thanks." An ice bath sounded horrible and the fact that Spectacles suggested it made it even worse. Sure, his arm felt uncomfortable. It was almost like someone jammed a space heater in his arm and turned it up too high, but it wasn't something he couldn't manage. He was just glad the surgery was over. The bullets came out after cuts and blood and their warped appearances were clear. It made him wonder how much liquid iron was still in his system.

"Well, don't push it. You might heal over like last time but try and keep the stitches in, alright?" Julian stood up, taking his tools with him. He handed Dom bowl with the melted bullets. "You can keep these if you like."

"Uh, no thanks." Dom replied, hopping off the bed and handing Julian back his bowl of used bullets. Why he would even want that, Dom couldn't even guess. Now that the short operation was over, Dom saw no reason to stick around. He could already here pillows and beds calling him. Dom turned to leave and then stopped midway. He looked back at Thayne. "Hey, Thayne. If you're staying, don't get a room on the third floor, alright?" Dom would rather the two of them keep their distances. "The rooms aren't the crème de la crème, you know?" Yeah that'll probably keep him out for a while. Without more to say or much of a goodbye, Dominique left.

"I'll keep that in mind," he told the kid, knowing his advice wasn't as helpful as he would haved hoped it be. What was his problem? Was it because he was from the Family? He couldn't help but feel disappointed. He had only been there for a night at the most and he was already disliked by someone. Sighing, he turned to Julian.

He had seemed nice enough. After all, he had taken care of the many people in the Hospital Wing without a second thought. At least, that's what Thayne had assumed. "Doctor," he said, catching the older man's attention. "What do you think I should do?"

"Whatever it is that you think is best." Julian had returned, his hands clean from Dom's blood. "You could return to the Family. You could stay here. You could just leave altogether. The choice is all yours. If I was you, however, I'd rest for a bit longer until you make any rash decisions. Rest and recover."

Thayne nodded as he listened to the various choices he was given. Part of him was tempted to just leave. He didn't want to deal with any of this. He didn't want to be kidnapped. He didn't want to be tortured. But he also didn't want to run away from this heritage of his.

"I think... I think that I'll stay."

Kikpanther · Nov 22, 2013

Dominique Bisset and Devon Bernot-- AUP Hospital Wing, Toulouse, France

After leaving the infirmary, Dom had nothing on his mind but finding a bed. He had fallen asleep on the plane and had missed the entire trip back to France, but that nap gave him no peace. His dream was nothing but a nightmare. Burning men, raging dogs, and worlds that crumbled all around him. He didn't like it, didn't like thinking about it. Fortunately, he was graced with the fact that it was a dream and that dreams faded from the memory quickly. Unfortunately, he was cursed with the fact that it was a dream and that any good dream had one moment that stuck in your mind forever. His parents, he'd seen them again. There was a moment when they were all together again, sitting at the table and talking about trivial things. His father with a newspaper, snickering at the funnies and his mother across from him, reading the real news on the back. Between disappointed shakes of the head and a quiet comment about the too-many-bad-things-in-the-world, his mother made idle chit chat for his father to answer to. He responded dutifully in the beginning before trailing off into silence and then bursting out laughing at the antics of comic strip heroes. His mother would frown, Dom would smile. Dom struggled desperately to discover whether this moment was a part of the dream or the intrusion of a pleasant memory. His only clue was that in the memory he smiled and in the dream he was anxious--his fingers drumming the tabletop, his foot tapping the floor, and the monster looming behind him, ready to strike.

Dom yawned into his hand, suddenly more needing to sleep than wanting to sleep. As he walked, he looked down corridor to corridor to corridor and suddenly felt lost. How the hell did he even get in the place?

"Are you lost?" A voice came from behind Dom, a rather familiar one. Devon it seemed had gained consciousness and had either escaped from his father's grip or had been let free. He also looked a lot different from before. Bruises covered what parts of his body could be seen around the t-shirt and shorts he was wearing. His hair looked a lot messier than it was before and there was something about his eyes. Sadness? Regret? He seemed upset about something.

Dom looked behind himself when he heard the question and was surprised at what he saw. Devon looked bad, really bad. He had bruises on his body, his hair was unkempt, and he looked like he had gone through an experience within the last few hours. Thinking about it, he probably had. Dom turned to face Devon. He knew very little about him, just that his father kept him on a leash and that he could turn into a beast that would not be leashed. That and he seemed to really like people from ARF.

"Yeah," Dom answered. Dom was more than a little turned around at the moment. Which hallways did he even go through? He was tired of finding hospital rooms that took him nowhere. "How do you get out of this place?"

"There's an elevator at the main wing and one way down there." Devon turned around, looking back where he had come from. "I can show you the way if you like."

The main wing? Dom quickly found himself not knowing where that was. Did he pass that? Dom didn't want to take the risk of walking around more and while he didn't want Devon leading him around like a service dog, he didn't like his other option. "Please, thank you."

"Sure." Devon walked past Dom, leading him back towards the main wing. It was a wonder how he had gotten himself out this far since there wasn't a lot down here now (these wings had been used for all of the Paris victims, but a lot of them had been sent home and any remaining had been moved closer to the main wing) unless he just wanted to go for a walk. Which was something Devon did a lot at nighttime, but that wasn't quite what he was doing now. It didn't take long before the atmosphere got a little less empty, and Julian's voice came into earshot. He noticed them straight away as they reached the main wing doorway.

"Oh! Devon. Good timing. And Dom, back so soon? Did you pull your stitches already?" Julian was wiping his hands from cleaning them, which was something you could only assume a doctor does a lot.

"He got lost," Devon answered for him rather plainly.

Dom frowned and his return to Julian. The elevator was here the whole time? Now he was irritated. Drowsiness rested behind his eyes and he had nothing against obeying its calls. If he hadn't gotten turned around, he may have been out of here by now. Julian was the last person he wanted to see at the moment. Especially if he was going to ask about the stitches. What kind of idiot did he have to be to pull out his stitches that fast? And how incompetent did he have to be not to be able to answer questions? Dom was already pissed and he could feel it too. The temperature under his skin felt like it rose ten degrees. He was uncomfortable instantly, which only made him angrier and hotter.

"I can answer that question myself, Devon," Dom said, a hint of a growl in his voice.

"Alright then, impétueux." He shrugged then pointed just out the door. "The elevator is just over there."

Dom grunted. "Thanks, clebs."

"Excusez-moi?" Devon whipped his head back around, eyes glaring. "Qu'est-ce que tu viens de dire?"

"C-L-E-B-S. Clebs. Voulez-vous que je dise autre chose?" Dom raised a brow. "Or are you satisfied?" he finished in French.

"I am not a dog!" Devon strode up to him, also continuing in French, until he was right under Dom and looking up into his face. "I am not. A dog."

"Now, boys..." Julian started, but was quickly interrupted.

"Aw, our puppy's not upset is he?" Dom teased, speaking to Devon with a voice used for pets. "What do you want to be then, a beast?" Devon came close and Dom frowned immediately. The heat under his skin rose with his annoyance. "Now, now" Dom started, his tone changed. He placed his hand on Devon's chest and pushed him backwards. "Don't make me have to put you in your cage."

"Boys! These people are sleeping!"

"I'm not an animal!" Devon, returning to English, pushed back with what force he had (which wasn't a lot, especially since he was rather weak after today's mishap). "Don't treat me like one! I'm not AN ANIMAL!" He went to push Dom again but froze midway at the end of his sentence. On that last word, he felt something at the bottom of his stomach. Like a rumble or a... well, growl. He stepped back, looked up at Dom, his eyes glazed and sad-like when he had met Dom in the hallway. He stared at him for a moment, then stepped back again, holding his arms against himself and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to push you, I'm sorry." His voice had gone all quiet and shakey too.

"Don't do it again," Dom said without sympathy. Devon's little push, though not impressive at all, sent his memory back to the day before when a man off the street grabbed his arm and snatched his watch. Dom frowned at the memory. He could feel beads of sweat begin to form on his skin and he wished someone would turn on the AC. "Maybe you should learn to control that little problem of yours," Dom said in English.

"To be perfectly honest Dom, you're not in a position to say that." Julian, while the boys had their small spat, had been making sure the other patients had not been awoken by the shouts. He pulled up a chair for Devon, letting him sit down while his mind was elsewhere.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dom's eyes went to Julian when he jumped into the conflict he had no business being in.

"Well, look at your arm." Julian gestured to the wound he had recently stitched up. The thread was gone and the wound had torn free, without Dom doing anything physically demanding. "You've already let your emotions get the better of you. What would happen to you if you were pushed over the edge? I'm sure you can guess, if it hasn't happened already."

Enlighten me, is what Dom wanted to say, but he bit back the reply. He felt hot, unbearably hot. He had gone in no time at all from cool to sweltering and Julian didn't make it any better. It was true too that his stitches had come loose, the blood that came from the wounds felt like hot water going down his skin. He panted heavily and the sweat barely cooled him. Dom had never felt like this before.

"I think I can handle myself," Dom growled, his breath feeling like fire in his throat.

"Can you? Because do you remember yesterday, that man in the street? Your watch? I thought that it meant a lot to you, especially how you reacted to get it back. But when you did get it back, what did you do to it?" Julian sighed, putting his hands on his hips. "If you were pushed a little further, I'm not sure that man would be alive anymore. Or me. If you were going to unintentionally destroy something that meant so much to you, what would you do to someone you'd never met?"

Julian left the rhetorical question hanging for a moment, before shrugging off his white coat. The belt strapping his wings to his back was a lot easier to see now, especially so as he turned around and began to lead Devon to another room.

"Devon and I are going to be doing some emotional training. Think of it as... anger management. You can join us if you like. You never know, you might learn something about your ability. Or yourself."

Dom didn't say anything after Julian said what he had to. He reasoned it was because he didn't want to say anything. Dom let the two of them leave and stood in the room by himself. the past few days playing in his mind. Today: Oakley and the two guards, yesterday: The man in the alleyway, and the day before: Paris. So much had happened in such a short time. To think last week he had left Toulouse to visit Paris. To think last week Paris was actually there. He had yet to mourn the city or search for his parents.

Dom sighed and felt tired again. He walked towards the elevator, his body cooling slowly, and pushed the button to call it down. As he waited, he felt a presence behind him. A dark figure that made his body tense and his heart quicken. The monster looming behind him. Dammit.

Swolligator · Nov 24, 2013

Justin Evans – Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England

November 11th, 10:17am GMT

It had been an eventful couple of days, and they were far from over. After this last debacle which remained tightly under wraps from the press, the Royal Family still had a lot to work out. After Antonia and her friends had saved most of the kidnapped students, their roster continued to drop as students began leaving to return home where they felt safe with family. In the end, Justin didn't blame them; they were simply looking out for themselves. However in the long run, with Russia now imprisoning Atlanteans and the recent attack on a kid in London, the Mansion was looking more like a safe haven. The outside world had already woken up to the new Atlantean race, now even humans are as much a threat to Atlanteans as they had been to them. The Oracle had spoken time and time again about the inevitable war and the coming of the end days, but she was known to be wrong; her powers of precognition seeing each and every outcome and possibility keeping her in a catatonic state.

A sharp rapping at the door sounded, pulling Justin out of his little day dream. Before he could say 'come in', their fearless leader Leo waked through holding a small envelope in his hands. "Are you alright, Leo?" Justin asked cautiously, Leo's hands shaking uncontrollably and threatening to drop the envelope.

"I got this envelope… from Techno…" Leo tipped the contents of the envelope into his open palm and a single USB drive fell out, "I didn't know what to do with it and thought you might."

Justin laughed, of course he would be more than happy to help Leo out, but the way he phrased his question reminded him a lot of the way his parents used to ask him for advice on computers. He felt a small pang in his gut at the thought of his parents, still not over the fact that they were dead, but continued on. "Sure thing," he took the USB drive from Leo's quivering palm and plugged it into his computer. It issued a possible virus alert which Justin simply cancelled and ignored; his computer would have any possible virus deleted long before it even had time to boot up.

In the drive was a simple .exe file named ICE. After a quick sweep of the USB drive, it revealed that the .exe file was the only thing on and took up almost the entirety of the drive. Cautiously, he booted the file in a sandbox via command prompt and watched it slowly unfold.

"Hello Leo old pal, nice to see you too, Justin," a holographic representation of the deceased Techno walked back and forth along Justin's toolbar. "Before you ask, I am dead; there is no coming back for me. As an emergency process, I updated myself into this drive internally in case the inevitable happened. When I died, motions set in which sent this drive to you as a way for me to watch over the mansion while you sleep. To make this simple, execute me in the central mainframe for the house, Justin knows where, and I'll be like your personal 'Jarvis'." The little holographic man looked up at the two of them, Leo now completely lost.

"What's a 'Jarvis'?" Leo asked Justin, still awestruck at the little holographic representation of his friend that looked so much alive on the computer.

Justin brought his hand to his face, Leo was one of those people that tended to spend their lives outside enjoying the fresh air. "Jarvis is a computer AI program for Tony Stark… Iron Man." He looked up at Leo but the older guy still looked at Justin obliviously like Justin had just rambled to him in another language. "Techno is in our computers. He'll tell us if people are trying to invade us again."

"Oh kay…" Leo trailed off, understanding slightly what Justin was saying but not quite wrapping his head around the computer side of it. Needless, he motioned for Justin to do what needed to be done.

Turning back to the computer, Justin's fingers whizzed along the keyboard fast enough to become a blur as the holographic Techno simply watched the lines of code fill command prompt. Justin's eyes furrowed as the small holographic figured nodded and shook his head as he inspected Justin's coding like he was a teacher to a pupil. Within a few minutes, the hologram of Techno disappeared from Justin's screen, its voice rather coming out of the speakers as if he was standing beside them.

"Much better. Thank you Justin, please let the students know if they need any help from me, to feel free to ask. For now I'll just be fixing some security issues…" Techno's voice trailed off leaving the two in the room together.

"Thank you, Justin," Leo had stopped shaking and his voice sounded lower and more sombre. It was perhaps a bit too early for Leo to be again confronted by his childhood friend soon after his untimely death, but Justin knew Techno had his heart in the right place. Leo soon left, and Justin returned to the game of World of Warcraft he had been playing, questing in a new land called 'Pandaria'.

Over lunch, Leo addressed the whole school in their recent developments, stressing to the students that if they needed any help, to contact either Techno or the other leaders. "Once again, we strive to make the Mansion as safe for our kind as possible, so you all may live and train here without harm." Leo rallied the students as much as he could, Justin noticing the hardness to his voice as their fearless leader returned. Leo had initially taken it personally for not having the safety precautions enough to stop the invasion and kidnap, and it had really taken a toll on the guy. Now, he stood tall and proud; prepared to do whatever he could to keep them all safe.

Legend · Nov 25, 2013

James Hazen and Nathaniel Calaway - Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England

To this war of every man against every man, this also is consequent; that nothing can be unjust. The notions of right and wrong, justice and injustice, have there no place. Where there is no common power, there is no law; where no law, no injustice.

James closed the book he had been reading, but put a marker on the passage. He flipped the book to its front to show the image of a behemoth-sized monarch with a sword in his right hand and a ceremonial scepter in his other overlooking a hillside and a city beneath it. This was Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes, a favorite of his back at the university in Honolulu. He had always enjoyed reading all manner of fictional books and stories, as well as the occasional philosophical and moral piece, if the writing was one he appreciated. Yet recently, he hadn't had much time for reading.

In fact, he hadn't gotten a chance to read anything other than newspapers since the Atlantean situation began. This was mostly due to the fact that reading these things was a chance for him to escape his dull, meaningless life in Hawaii in place of the mystical tales of the stories in these books. When his life was suddenly flipped over with the gaining of these powers, he didn't feel like he would be needing these stories anymore. Yet when he awoke following the events of yesterday, something compelled him to wander into the library in the Royal Mansion and see what was there. While there, he was dismayed to feel the same sense of lifelessness he would always feel when in Hawaii, followed by the slight jubilance of finding a good book to read.

He had the same feeling with the Librarian. Life in Hawaii was not for him. The situation with Henry didn't suit him. And now, even here among other Atlanteans in this 'school' wasn't a good fit.

"I didn't know you could read," Nathaniel said as he caught sight of James seemingly in a trance. It was the first semblance of downtime either one of them had since being caught up in the entire Atlantean...thing, for lack of a better word. Even then, calling it "downtime" was a stretch. It was fairly early in the morning and Nathaniel could only that James, like Nathaniel, had trouble sleeping after the last night. The reality of what they found themselves in was crashing all too hard. What seemed to be safe was not. But then again, would they be safe anywhere? With all the recent news flooding the media streams, safe was an illusion for Atlanteans. It seemed that was the new reality. Nathaniel had no way to really reconcile with it. At least he knew one thing: James was probably struggling with it too...even if he wasn't willing to admit it. "Hobbes may be a bit of a rough start if you just learned how to read."

"Yeah, well Clifford the Big Red Dog was checked out so I had to go with the next best thing," He shot back, grinning at his friend and jocularly tossing the book at him. "I always liked that book. The man has some good stuff to say," He said a bit more seriously, leaning back in the armchair and relaxing a bit more as he looked around the room at the other activity.

Nathaniel caught the book and flipped it around, staring at the cover and quickly looking at the back summary. "Like what?" Nathaniel said before taking the seat across from James. "How did Hobbes reach the enigmatic James Hazen?"

James grinned again, looking over Nate as he sat across him, then looked a bit passed him, trying to think of how best to answer his question. "He talks about life and about...us. About our nature," He answered, continuing to look at some invisible object behind his friend, not breaking his eye contact from that spot, as if he were in a trance. He pondered his own words as he thought on what they meant to him. A moment later, he snapped out of his deep thinking and looked back at Nate. "I'm hungry."

Nathaniel cocked at eyebrow. "I guess you will have to give me more details over some lunch." Nathaniel rose from the seat, though he was comfortable and wanted far more details. "Care to lead the way to the cafeteria? I am not sure where it is myself."

James grinned again and nodded, pushing himself off the armchair and proceeding out of the library with Nathaniel behind him. They walked through the level and down the stairs to the bottom level where the dining hall was located. It was around the time for lunch, so others were already gathering. After grabbing their food, James getting a few burgers and fries, they made their way to the seats, where Leo made an announcement to the whole school.

Even now, he continued to preach the safety of the school, which made James shake his head and chuckle. "Can you believe this guy? After all that's happened, he's still going on about how safe we are," He rolled his eyes and took a few fries into his mouth. "Only an idiot would believe that."

"Right." That's all Nathaniel could find himself saying at first. Even the words barely left his mouth in little more than a whisper. "Perhaps we would be better off as idiots," Nathaniel said, almost admiring the stupidity of anyone who did believe the words of Justin. Justin himself seemed to believe it. Did that make him an idiot by James' standards? If that was the case, did he deserve to lead them? Nathaniel had to remind himself that James (and arguably by extension, Nathaniel himself) were not truly working for the Atlantean Royal Family. It was the Librarian they followed, but even then...was Nathaniel only doing that out of misguided obligation? They were so many questions, and Nathaniel found it hard to eat, instead playing around with the plate of food in front of him, moving around the assorted vegetables he found himself grabbing. "Is there anywhere we can be safe at this point? Maybe it's best we try to find comfort in this relative safety?"

"Comfort," James dropped his burger on his plate, and rubbing his palms on his forehead. He began tapping his right leg furiously. Closing his eyes, he knelt his head down and placed his hands on the back of his shaved head. He was thinking, trying to say exactly what he wanted to say so that Nate could understand. But it was difficult, especially since James himself had no idea exactly what he wanted to say. "I'm not comfortable here," He finally murmured out, while still facing down at his plate of food. "I've got a knot in my stomach when I think about this place. Same with home. Same with Henry. The same, f*cking feeling," He finally looked up, glaring into Nathaniel's eyes with a look sharper than any he'd shown yet. "I hate it here. And I don't know why."

Home. Nathaniel almost forgot about home. His old life. He wondered how his roommates were doing. How his friends back in New York were doing. How his parents were doing. He hadn't spoken with them since all this began. What would he say to them? That he has ice abilities and killed a couple people? That he couldn't come to terms with it no matter how hard he tried? How about the sinking feeling he gets any time he thinks about the future? "You hate it here for the same reason I'm not quite comfortable here myself: Because you can't trust them," Nathaniel said as he made a weak gesture in the direction of the speakers.

"Heh...maybe," James picked up his glass of water and took a long, satisfying gulp of it before putting it down. Although it was true that he didn't trust the royal family, or Henry for that matter, he didn't have that same feeling with his parents, or with home. He was pretty sure there was a different reason, but he decided to drop it for now. "Well, if we're going to make anything useful of our time while we're here, we might as well take up what they offer," He took another bite of the burger, and spoke again, a bit of the food spilling out of his mouth as he tried talking over the meat. "If they're offering training, I want in on that."

Nathaniel nodded, "I agree. Next to the Librarian, this place may be the best bet to get that." Nathaniel nibbled at his food, employing manners lost on James. In fact, he found himself both amused and disgusted at James' inability to his chew his food and talk at the same time politely, or even separate the two acts. He figured James did not care for manners when speaking with Nathaniel, probably because he lacked any female qualities. Though, James rarely showed interest in any of that to begin with. Nathaniel stopped himself from analyzing any further. "I know they offer quite a bit. What are you planning on looking for?"

"My lightning's strong, but I know I can get it even stronger. I'll talk to that guy and see what I can come up with," He replied, pointing toward Justin. "You?"

"I'd like to achieve a sense of balance between my ability and physical strength, but I think I will work on combat training for now. I heard Antonia is good at that stuff from Austin," Nathaniel said with a shrug, before taking another bite from his plate.

"Uh huh," James looked at Nate curiously and then smirked, still chewing on his food before using his tongue to get all of the loose bites of burger around his gums. "Yeah, I'm sure you'll get alotta physical exercises with her," He joked, catching sight of her in the dining hall and nodding to himself. "I wouldn't mind going a few rounds with her myself," He continued with a chuckle, before quickly looking back at Nate. "...unless you're thinking of making it private tutoring?" He added with a wink.

Unconsciously, Nathaniel found himself glaring at James, turning his fork into an icicle. "I don't think you're her type," Nathaniel said with a forced sigh. "After all, you said you wanted to work on your lightning ability anyway," he continued to spew nonsense as he downed the rest of his coffee.

James chuckled again, finishing up the rest of his burger by literally stuffing it into his mouth, and wiping with mouth with the napkin to his right. "Yeah, alright, I get it," He said, picking up the water and taking a few more gulps until it was gone and then putting it down on the tray. He then slid the tray off to the end of the table, and proceeded to get up. "You let me know how it goes later. I want the details," He added, patting his back as he proceeded away from the table and toward Justin.

Nathaniel only sighed, "Just like being in high school all over again." With James out of earshot, Nathaniel looked up to where Antonia, firmly planted in his seat. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire."

Skymin · Nov 27, 2013

Imogen Green and Atticus Forsberg - AUP Headquarters, Toulouse, France

Imogen snickered, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. This information this so-called organisation on this boat had worked so hard to get... not only was a vast majority of it useless and almost unnecessary, but Imogen had taken it off of them in a matter of minutes. She couldn't get over how useless they had been and how they had even thought about saying no to her offer. She might as well have killed them in the first place instead of asking to combine their research.

"Imogen!" A voice broke the silence around her. She had been in one of the Information Conference Rooms and had chosen so for the lack of humans but it seemed one was particularly stubborn. She raised her eyes, Atticus striding towards her, looking all serious. She smirked. How cute. "Imogen I know what you're up to."

"What I'm up to? Sweetie, you wouldn't know sh*t from shoeshine." Her smile was sickly sweet, her favourite kind. Her feinted niceness only emphasised her condescending attitude. She loved it and loved the fact everyone hated it even more. She turned her monitor around, revealing a half finished game of solitaire. "What were you expecting, a conspiracy?" She expected Atticus to get angrier but his face stayed the same. Well, that was no fun.

"What were you doing on the boat?" he said, nostrils slightly flaring.

"The silly mission you assigned me to. Is that alright with you, Master Forsberg?" She tapped her foot impatiently.

"No you weren't. Cooper lied about your position. I had trackers built into everyone's suits. What were you doing at the tower in the middle?"

"Having a tea party with your parents. It was lovely. You should have joined us."

"IMOGEN!" He yelled, obviously frustrated. Imogen grinned back at him. The boy just had so much wrong with him that it was so hard not to mess with him. "For once in your life, be a decent person. FOR ONCE." She continued to smile at him, which only frustrated him more. "What about Brad? Where's he?"

"Who?"

"Brad. He came in with Will. You know exactly what I'm talking about." When she didn't answer, he continued. "What about Delta? Are you just trying to rewrite what happened to Oscar and the others? What are you doing? What have you gotten yourself into?"

"I'm just following orders, baby. The same as you."

"Imogen, if you've gotten into some kind of trouble, we can help--"

"Help? Help?! I'm sorry honey, but that ship has sailed. Do you think I enjoyed being unnoticed? A freak, before I got these abilities? No. So I got help. And now this," she gestured to herself. Atticus wasn't sure if she meant the trouble she was in or her ability, "is the best thing to happen to me. You could have helped me, sweetie. You could have helped me long ago, but instead you googly-eyed over the disabled girl. Instead, Natalia palmed me off as weak. Emil said he had no time for me. Nobody cared about me. Nobody. And now that I'm a valuable asset, now I can actually do something, now you want to help? Well sweetie, you can go f*ck your help." She glared at him, eyes fiery behind her glasses.

Atticus was silent for a minute, eyes dropping to the floor and taking it all in, torn between how to feel. Was she being serious? Was this how she really felt? Or was this just her trying to manipulate him, making him feel like the enemy instead of her. His eyes raised back to hers again.

"Imogen, just tell me what you're doing!" He stepped in to grab her by the shirt, her instant retaliation was to pull him off, but not before he could grab her opposing arms. "Tell me what's going on! Tell me where Brad is!!"

"Get your hands off me, monkey boy! Get off!!"

"Tell me!!"

Atticus felt an arm on his shoulder and turned to see who it was before getting punched in the nose. He let go and fell back, only to see Cooper standing over him.

"You let yourself go there a little, Imogen."

"Shut up. Just fix him."

Cooper leaned in, the lightbulbs flicking on in Atticus' head. He knew exactly what was happening now! He had to leave right now, go tell Emil. He tried to scramble to his feet and knock Cooper down, but Cooper's heavy feet kept him earthbound.

"You! I'll... how could you do this! These are children!" Cooper just stared at him, to which Atticus had nothing but shallow words. "You won't get away with this! And... Emil! How could you do this to him?! I'll tell Emil! Tell him everything! Everyone will know who you are!"

"No you won't. Because, Atticus, you won't remember. Tonight, you had a bit too much to drink and fell asleep. Imogen was doing her job on the boat. Brad left yesterday to go back home. Nothing is happening." Cooper was calm and now, so was Atticus, nodding slowly. He lifted his foot on Atticus, and crouched down, his voice gentle and friendly. "Now, head back to your room and go to sleep, alright?"

"Yeah." He nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, sorry. My bad. I'll go. Have a good night, guys." Atticus pulled himself up from the floor and left, yawning loudly and his tail still poking out of his pants. When he had left, Cooper turned to Imogen, furious.

"Let's make sure mistakes like this don't happen again. Otherwise you'll have to take it up with her."

---

The next morning was far less stressful than the last, members strolling down the halls instead of running backwards and forwards. Things were almost back to normal. Thusly, the recruits were not awoken unexpectantly for this expedition. Instead, they all waited until everyone had rolled out of bed in a normal fashion before they started getting the plane ready.

Invited to this expedition was Dom, Delta, Frederick and Oakley, Thayne (recently recovered with an a-ok from Julian) with Atticus and Misha accompanying them (and Devon just allowing himself to come ).

"So," Atticus stood outside the jet with those coming surrounding him, looking at another clipboard, "today we're going to New Atlantis in case you didn't know. This is Thayne, and he's a new recruit so please make him feel welcome. Misha is here to supervise him and Devon... why are you here? Shouldn't you be...?"

"No." He made a small scowl. Atticus shrugged.

"Whatever then. So we have to take the plane again. Sorry. Misha will also be our pilot so... buckle up, I suppose."

"Haha! I will fly her like graceful svan!" Misha gave a hearty chuckle. Atticus shook his head slowly.

"Yeah. Graceful. Alright guys, hop aboard."

Quest · Dec 1, 2013

Thayne Clark, Delta Mayor, and Dominique Bisset

Thayne took his seat on the plane as the rest of the AUP members boarded. It seemed like the most of them were at least somewhat ready for the day, while others were...a bit grumpy. Nonetheless, things had gone smoothly as Atticus gave the briefing, giving the information on where they were going. The man who was about to fly the plane was Misha, a rather large man with a heavy Russian accent to boot. Thayne had no idea if Misha flying was a good thing, after all, he had seen the faces some people made. The faces made him a tad bit worried about the fact that this caretaker was the pilot.

He had been mostly unharmed physically, only having several bruises and marks from the multitude of shots the kidnappers had used. His eyes had seemed not to be too damaged. Mentally however, Thayne thought he was actually getting better. It seemed as if after the kidnapping, he had begun to use his power more, his fear downplayed after the excess of light that had been cast upon him. He was finally grasping what his power could do.

Combat training had gone by without a hitch, Delta continued onward with her training in the dawn hours after a bit of rest and food. She had grabbed a quick breakfast and returned focus on working with her newly acquired weapon until she was called forth to board the plane. When Atticus announced Misha was going to be piloting Delta's stomach churned and the expression on her face was less than pleasant. She clutched the keys around her neck as if to momentarily take her mind off the thought of flying. If there was a purpose to this trip to New Atlantis, whatever the hell that was, Delta wasn't seeing it especially having to share a plane with the weakest of the weak.

"I'm sorry, shouldn't someone get him a leash? Oakley? Wouldn't want him to run off and attack someone, again." Delta sat down in her seat and loaded her gun accordingly, Natalia said she wasn't ready to use the new weapons in the field just quite yet. She flicked her green eyes over towards the boy Atticus introduced as Thayne and hardened her gaze. "Why is he here? I didn't realize we're collecting ARF's trash."

Dom was more or less attracted by the sound of Del's jeers and complaining. He could enjoy the jeers, he wasn't a fan of Devon himself. The complaining, he could agree with at least a little. He didn't see the need for Thayne to be here so suddenly. To Dom, it felt like Thayne had just been in the hospital. In fact, he was just in the hospital. Was he even injured? If Thayne was this ready to go on a trip, he was easily just as ready to be shipped back to the Royal Family. Dom wondered now if he had missed his one chance to push Thayne out of the picture. Then again, he could always push him out of the plane.

Dom sat next to Del, his arms folded, and impatiently waited for yet another plane to take off. It felt as though he had gotten on a plane then off a plane then on a plane and then off again. Now he was back on the plane, wondering when the cycle would end. The seating arrangements weren't that spectacular either. The plane wasn't as big as it could be and with Thayne on one side and Devon on the other, he had no choice but sit next to Del, the next best thing. He would have probably taken a seat next to Oakley, but her attachment to Devon turned that plan into a bust.

Dom turned his eyes to Thayne, the focus of Del's daily contempt. "Thayne. You managed to get one of those nice rooms on the fourth floor, right?"

Thayne turned at the sound of his name, spotting Dom and a woman whom he had not met before. "Yeah," he answered with a smile. "Thanks for telling me about it." Thayne was slightly taken back that Dom was talking to him, knowing that the woman beside him had basically called him scum. He could tell Dom seemed to feel the same way, although he honestly didn't care much. "Uh... What do you guys know about this 'New Atlantis' thing?"

"I know I don't remember anyone asking you to come," Dom answered. "Did you bribe someone? I didn't think anyone could be bought by something so pourri."

When Dom sat next to Delta she offered only a smirk, as smiling wasn't something she did very often. She carried on with her own agenda despite Thayne's question and Dom's response, "Do you mind telling me how incompetent one has to be to in ordered to get captured? Did the ARF not train you at all?" If push came to shove Delta knew this was yet another individual she could not rely on. One day the AUP would wise up and pick someone that could actually fight. "Might as well tell us your ability."

"Honestly, no. They hadn't trained me at all and I hadn't bribed anyone. They told me to come with." Thayne couldn't help but let out a sigh. "I had literally just gotten there to the mansion before the attack."

Thinking back upon the girl's statement, Thayne had no idea how to describe his power. He knew its name, but its mechanics? Yeah, no. Knowing that showing what he could do was the best option, he raised his hand, focusing his thoughts in the space above it. Quicker than the times before, a small, sharp spike, its dark appearance forming from the dark particles that seemed to appear as if from nowhere. It was solid despite the spike's intangible look. "I can do this."

"I told you to tell me what your ability is, not put on some fancy light show," Delta commented rather unimpressed. Thayne had created some sort of object that was dark in color, how he did it Delta had no clue. "Frankly I can't say I'm surprised that you got caught. For one you can't listen and for two making shoddy objects like that isn't doing yourself any favors."

"Maybe they didn't teach him how to speak either."

"It is the ARF, can't say I'm surprised."

"It's his first day, right? If we have any of the ARF's luck, maybe someone will take him off our hands while we're out!"

Thayne gave them a small, questioning look as he listened to their comments. The two of them had only just officially met him, yet they were being complete a**holes for no apparent reason. Was the rest of the "Unification Project" this combative? "What is your guys' problem with me?"

"You do realize this is a team, right? Which means at some point I might, and I pray this never comes to fruition, need to put my life in your hands and I can't see that happening with you," Delta's words came out in a hurry and per usual her Eastern European accent thicken. She was angry and her tone displayed that plenty, "How do I know you're not ARF's little spy? It's clear that you can barely control your power, face it you're weak. Pathetic. I wouldn't trust you to watch over my luggage much less my life."

"I'm not a fan of the sh*t that comes from the ARF," Dom answered matter-of-factly.

"You guys don't even know me, much less what happened?" He felt Dom's answer was a little bit better than Del's constant stream of questions. She seemed to just be assuming everything without a second thought. "What makes you feel the same thing wouldn't have happened to you? What the difference between us?"

A loud cackle erupted from Delta before she carried on, "You got captured, I'm pretty sure that's all I need to know." The fact that he couldn't accept his own weakness only angered Delta more. She narrowed her eyes and spat out, "And, don't ever try to compare yourself to me." Thayne had a lot of nerve to even try to insinuate that they were of the same ranking when Delta was miles ahead. Being at the top is where she belonged, no, where she thrived and she would be the strongest Atlantean by whatever means necessary. "The difference between us is strength, power. I have all of it while you haven't any. This is why I was outside of those cells and you were the one in."

"You're being resentful for absolutely no reason," he said to her. It was almost like she thought she was in a better social class than him, like she was better with anything and everything. "You're assuming so much to the point that it's basically a joke. What is it you can do that's so much better than my power?"

Delta turned towards Dom with a look of annoyance who only shrugged in response. This kid was wearing down her self-control and that was the only thing that was keeping her handgun in check. "Assumptions?" That was a bold choice, as he had already laid out all the facts she needed to make an accurate assessment. "Look, you can try and try to convince yourself that you may not be feeble, but it's not working on the rest of us. We all know how you ended up on that boat," She snapped, purposely ignoring his latest question.

"Just be sure to stay the hell out of my way from now on, I'm sure Oakley will gladly take you under her wing. She already has one stray."

Dom tsked at Del's suggestion. "Oakley doesn't need that kind of baggage. Don't do that to her."

Thayne merely gave a smirk at the two. There was obviously no winning a fight as pointless as this one. "Just think what you want," he said before turning around. If anything was certain about today, it was gonna be a long one.

SV · Dec 2, 2013

James Hazen and Katerina Lukyanenko - Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England

James carried the sheepish grin over from his conversation with Nate, though the further he drifted from his friend, the more his expression was replaced with a stoic, impassive one. He made his way across the dining hall and toward the apparent 'leader' of the Royal Family, Leo Cabrillo. He nonchalantly approach the man, and looked him over from the bottom to the top before his eyes set on the other man's eyes. "Hey," He began, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Leo, right?"

"If it isn't the infamous James Hazen, how may I help you?" The kid had impecable timing as Leo had only moments before finished his lunch while the others still ate. Along the edge of his plate sat a couple of bones with sharp teeth mark indentations in them, discarded after Leo had sucked the marrow out of them.

James put his palms on the top of the chair in front of Leo, but didn't sit down. Here merely kept them there as he leaned over slightly to speak without others listening in. "I'm looking into training my power. I need a sparring partner. Could be you or one of the others, I don't care. Just point me in the right direction."

Leo often had requests from the students along the similar lines as James had approached him with. Needless to say, he wouldn't quite be the sparing partner James was looking for, but anyone of the others would probably do. "Why not spar with your friend Nathaniel?" Leo inquired. He had watch the two of them become closer over the course of their short stay here but couldn't help but think that both of them seemed to distance themselves from the other students. James more so than Nathaniel.

"He's trying to ban-" He stopped himself, figuring he should be a bit more polite, or at least a little less rash in this situation. "He's working on close combat fighting at the moment. I need an Atlantean sparring partner."

"Why not one of the other students? I hear there is a Lumokinetic who might be able to give you a run for your money? Or maybe Oliver again?" It wasn't that Leo was trying to stall or shift the work onto another unfortunate soul, but rather he wanted to hear James' true words.

James rolled his eyes, before moving his palms away from the chair and slamming them onto the desk, thereby moving closer to Leo. "If I would have wanted to train with sheep, I would have asked the sheep," He bellowed at him, the anger in his voice building. "Isn't helping us get a grip on our Atlantean powers what you're here for? Are you going to help me or not?"

The whole room grew silent as James' voice echoed out and everyone turned in their chairs to look at whom was making the scene. Leo smirked at the angry looking James standing in front of him, glad to have finally got that of James' chest. Even the other leaders of the Royal Family had turned to look at the confrontation between the two men. From across the other end of the table, Katerina broke the silence walking over and standing behind James. "If you want to train, you may train with me," despite her many years of living in England, small glimpses of her previously thick Russian accent shone through, "All students are free to watch at a safe distance." Her voice picked up at the end as she addressed the rest of the students.

"Come with me, Mr. Hazen," she cast over her shoulder at him before marching out of the dining room. As soon as she had left, all the eyes went from the empty door frame and back to James to see his inevitable reaction.

James looked between Leo and Katerina. He had never met, nor paid much attention to the other leaders of the Royal Family, but seeing as she had come from the table where the others sat in, he decided she was probably acceptable. He followed the woman out of the dining hall casually. "Lead on," He said quietly, ignoring all the others peering eyes around. Their opinions of him usually meant very little to James. But if they wanted a show, he'd give them one. That morning, he had refueled to the brim on energy, feeling it coursing through his body. He was ready to let it out.

Stone faced, Katerina refused to talk to James, merely walking down the hall and out into the bright sunshine that covered the large backyard. She walked past the pool, stopping in the middle of the large sports field that bordered the south of the mansion. A large crowd of students followed a little distance behind James, whispering like a hive of curious bees as they lined themselves at the edge of the field.

"Okay James, two rules. One: You must not injure the other students. Two: The fight is over when one of us calls 'truce'." She was blatant and right to the point. There was no time in mucking around with words; only time wasted not fighting. She took two steps back from James, standing with her back straight facing him. "When you're ready," she announced.

James nodded in agreement, but really didn't plan on paying attention to the rules. He didn't plan on giving up, and he fully intended to go all out when he fought. If the other students would be caught in the crossfire because they wanted to watch, that was their problem. This was further cemented in his head because he had gathered up enough energy this morning with the intention of seeing exactly how much power he would be able to wield with one, single attack at a time. However, he also wanted to see how much rapid attacks he could get through before building up to the larger one at the end. In other words, how much could his body handle and if the effects of those would be lessened if he started off rapidly before going big, or if he started off big right away.

He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath as he felt the energy surged around his body and towards his arms. They passed through his nervous system on the way to his hands. Once there, the cackling of the lightning began to be heard to others, followed by the bright, sizzling energy presented at the tips of his fingers. Each fingertip held a different ball of rupturing electrical energy. Also taking a few steps back, James began to fired these small, rapid balls of lightning at Katerina, eventually shooting off all ten in rapid succession, before quickly gathering up energy for the next set.

The muscles in Katerina's face didn't move, her whole body stood rigid as she watched James power up; pouring electrical energy into his hands. As much as she didn't like fighting students, James still had a lot to prove and she was going to be the one to teach him that. She watched as the ten rapid fire bolts of electricity darted through the air towards her, taking a deep breath before using her ability. All ten bolts of electricity hit her body, only to dissipate against her now cold, steely skin. In her hand she played with one of the many small coins she kept on her persons; each made out of a differing substance.

"Is that all you have?" she taunted James, pushing him to lose his cool.

"Just getting warmed up," James yelled back, trying not to show his surprise on his face as the electricity seemed to not affect her at all. He flowed more energy to his fingertips, and repeated the process of sending small balls of electricity out into the tips of his fingers. This time, he began running to the right, releasing the balls seperated by pairs, targeting different locations on her body.

Again, Katerina stood stoically still even as James darted to the right, throwing bolts of electricity at differing parts of her body. Again, she was ready for it and this round simply dissipated off of her like the previous round had. No doubt any future rounds of electricity would do the same. "You're electricity can't harm me, Hazen," she pushed, "now what'll you do?" From the sidelines she could hear the hushed whisperes as the students began gossiping about James being beaten and the possibilities of Katerina's mysterious power.

"You have got to be f*cking joking," James muttered under his breath. He had already wasted quite a bit of energy on her, and from what he could understand, there didn't seem to be a way for his ability to work on her. He felt the tingling after effects of his ability along the tips of his fingers, something he usually doesn't notice until after a fight because of the adrenaline coursing through his veins. In other words, his body was already in the after-battle shutdown mode. This was probably because his mind was telling his body that this fight was as good as done even before it got started.

He placed his arms on his hips, breathing a bit heavily from the bit of running he had done. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I asked for training. You couldn't have picked someone who, I dunno, maybe wasn't resistant to my ability?"

In a flash Katerina was upon James, her fist connecting with his Solar Plexis before he could even blink an eye. She watched him stumble back and recover from her attack. "Do you think this is a joke, that it is some game? When it comes down to it, you won't get to pick your opponents." her voice was harsh, criticising James at each moment while silent awe hushed the crowd, "How can you expect to be strong when you can't even admit your weaknesses? You're pathetic, James, weak and useless."

She walked past him, head held high and skin back to it's natural pale pigmentation. She didn't have the patience anymore to deal with someone who was willing to give up so easily. 'Pathetic,' she thought to herself, question why Leo had even decided to let him stay with them. He was a burden, a lost cause. There were other students here who would be more than happy to train with her than waste their time on James.

James stumbled back from the hit, dropping to the knees as he clutched his stomach, before flipping over onto his back and lying on the soft grass. He left one hand on the area where she had hit, as if to nurse his injury back to full health, while the other fell to his side. He listened to Katerina's words in silence from his lying position on the courtyard, not intending to rebuke in any way, with actions or words. She was talking to him like one of the other students, sent here to learn how to protect himself and develop his abilities. He came already knowing what he could and couldn't do, and wasn't seeking to fill in the holes. Why would he need to? What would be the likelihood that he would run into another person with resistances to his specific ability?

To James, there was only one power, one combat style, one strength that defined his entire being: his Atlantean ability. It was why he was here in the first place. It was the only thing he wanted to improve. Others sought hand-to-hand combat training, specializations in weapons, or others things. James specifically avoided that because any human could simply pick that up. Atlantean abilities were the game changers now.

So as he lay on the grass, looking up into the clouds above, he thought on what he wanted, and on what the Atlantean Royal Family was offering him. When he met Oliver in Paris, he was promised power. To be trained to become powerful. Instead, they were trying to give him something else, something he didn't want. Forcing their own ideals on him was one thing, but taking the fun and excitement away from the one part of this Atlantean saga that he enjoyed was another. That's why he felt the same apathy and excruciating boredom he felt here as he did in Hawaii. That's why he hated when they preached of safety and security.

He didn't want any of it. Time for a change.

Legend · Dec 4, 2013

Nathaniel Calaway and Antonia Costa- Atlantean Royal Family Mansion, Boston, England

Nathaniel continued to nibble at his lunch, pondering how he was going to go about training. It seemed simple enough to go up and ask Antonia for said training. Yet, for whatever reason, he felt a bit nervous. Was he getting cold feet? He certainly hoped not. Nathaniel ate his troubles away and gobbled down the rest of his food, trying to mind his manners as much as he could. James' terrible table manners made him self conscious, and Nathaniel wanted nothing more in that moment to exhibit self control and at least seem presentable. It was that train of thought that kept rolling in his head as he ate. Was that the reason he wanted training? Self control? He put his fork and knife down and stared blankly into space. Control. That word echoed in his head as he emptied it of every thought. Control over what? His abilities? A more short sighted man of expedience would be inclined to think that way. But Nathaniel...he also thought of the long term. So it begged the question again. Control over what? He shook his head. He had no control over anything, at least for now. He needed to seize that control. Training...that had as good chance as any of getting him there.

Nathaniel rose from his seat and walked over to Antonia, seemingly with new resolve. He had to gently push a few students of his way but in a few brief moments he got himself there. "Hey," Nathaniel he said with a brief wave. He sighed a bit before deciding to be blunt. "I was wondering if you would be up for some training. I...I would like to learn how to fight a bit better."

Antonia grew silent with the rest of the students at James' outburst. She wasn't overly fond of the egotistical smartass that Nate hung out with most of the time, but he had helped them back in Portsmouth so she was still kinda grateful for him. She watched a majority of the school follow him out and rolled her eyes at them. of course they would rather see a fight than learn anything about their abilities. "Yeah, no problem Nate," she beamed up at him, finally glad to have someone she could practice her fighting skills against, "I'll try not to go too easy on you."

Getting out of her chair, she took her plate to the back counter, handing it to one of the kitchen staff to wash before returning to Nate, "Meet me in the gym downstairs, I just gotta get changed." With that she headed off upstairs to her room.

"Right. Sounds good," Nathaniel replied. Go easy on me? I don't like the sound of that. Nathaniel had considered getting changed himself, but he always a man of practical taste. Why learn to fight in gym clothes? He was most likely going to end up fighting in jeans and a t-shirt. His racing jacket was something he never left the house without, so that should stay too. He shrugged his shoulders at such a thought and made his way downstairs right away, finding himself only asking for directions once. He finally made his way to the gym and decided to stretch as he waited. Being stiff as he was, Nathaniel hoped to limber up before Antonia came. She didn't need to tease more than she was probably going to.

She hadn't meant to keep Nate waiting, but Antonia couldn't help but stop and gossip with a bunch of girls upstairs whom had said something about Kieran and the new girl Charlotte dating. Realising this though, she hurriedly put on a pair of yoga pants and a light, zip up shirt over top a white tank top. Even though they would be sparring and no doubt sweating, Antonia knew that if she got too close to Nate, he could cool her down quite a bit.

"Sorry for being late," she spoke as she walked into the gym, tying her hair up in a ponytail as she sauntered up to Nate, "I got caught up." It was all she was willing to admit to Nate, it's not like she would say 'I got busy gossiping' to a guy, they just didn't understand. She walked him over to a couple of mats pieced together like a jigsaw puzzle to provide a small, sparring arena. "Have you had any fighting training before?" she asked him, bouncing up and down and stretching her limbs; warming up for their inevitable spar.

"It's cool," Nathaniel said with a weak smile. It's all that came to mind as she walked in, honestly distracted by Antonia's outfit. It wasn't revealing, just distracting. He tried to keep focused as she put the training grounds together. Feeling as though she was piercing through him as he stared. "Oh, uh, no. Nothing formal at least," Nathaniel coughed as he cleared his throat. "I got into a lot of fights though. Does that count?"

Antonia giggled, she always had a soft spot for the 'rebel' guy, something about their ability to go against the order spoke out to her. She had always been the one to follow rules, get good marks, act like a proper girl. She never had time to really be herself; until she developed her ability. Now, with the prospect of a boring life at university out of the way, she could get down to enjoying life the way she wanted. "Okay then, how about a quick spar to see, ummm, what your reactions and fighting is like?"

Nathaniel took a breath. "If you insist," he said. He had considered being cocky and saying a snappy wisecrack, a tendency he picked up from James. Yet, he knew better. Antonia had skill. He heard about it. He saw a bit of it. She can take whatever he could throw. Nathaniel rolled his shoulders and bent his neck from side to side to the sounds of cracks and pops before cracking his knuckles. Nathaniel exhaled and took a makeshift fighting stance, adapted from the few boxing matches he watched with his old friends from high school. He led with left foot and slid it ever so slowly to feel out Antonia's movements, before taking a big lunge forward with a fast right hook.

Antonia darted beneath Nate's wide lunge, his entire body had seized up to build momentum and power the moment Nate had decided to throw the punch. More than enough time for Antonia to predict the move and have a counter planned in her head. Launching herself upwards, she launched two quick punches, nothing big, just two small punches; one at his solar plexus and one at the pressure point running beneath his elbow. From the moment the fight began she knew she was going to be the victor, but Nate had asked her for lessons; not a beat down. She spun around his large body, coming up behind him and taking a step back, readying herself into one of the many stances she mimicked.

Nathaniel felt the wind escape from his lungs and he was taken aback, breathing for some air. His face winced in pain as he tried to recollect feeling in his arm and take deeper breathes to not only overcome the physically jarring effect of Antonia's jabs and any unexpected frustration. Antonia was good, but he never thought that good. She was ready for another round, but Nathaniel shrugged off the pain and took another stance. This time looser and more like he was in a street fight. This time, Nathaniel slipped leap into it leading with a two quick left jabs, hoping to set up for a straight right.

Again, Antonia's ability kicked in, Nate's own body effectively giving away what he was trying to do as his right arm tightened up. She blocked the two jabs, getting in close to his body and stopping his right arm from it's punch. It was easy for her, but she could tell he was rapidly getting frustrated from losing a fight tipped in her favour. "Instead of swinging your arms wildly like a gorilla, try targeting the body." She patted just below her chest, "Aim for the Solar Plexus, it's the easiest way to take someone out." Antonia motioned for Nate to hit her.

This feels like a trap, Nathaniel's mind wandered, completely ignoring Antonia's insults (that were quite fitting). She clearly could read him despite the whole swinging arms thing, but maybe she had a point. Was Nathaniel aiming for anything in particular? Probably not. Nathaniel took a step back from Antonia to reset and simply glared at her, narrowing his eyes. So I need to target the body. Isolation of a target. Got it. Of course, now that she knew he was going to target that part of her body, it seemed almost foolish to attack her. Whatever. This was training. Trial and error was destined to happen. Nathaniel already deduced he was going to probably wind up on the floor completely winded at some point during this whole thing. Nathaniel led with a jab directed at Antonia's face, holding back the punch ever so slightly as he prepared a right uppercut directed right at her solar plexus.

Of course, Antonia saw all this and decided to have a little fun. As the jab wooshed past her face, she moved ever so slightly in, feeling the uppercut make contact with her solar plexus, but only so far as to make Nate believe he had actually connected his fist. Antonia let out a great lung full of air before stumbling back, hunched over like he was struck her hard in the solar plexus. "Why would you hit a girl?" she wheezed out, looking up at him with tears brimming at her eyes. She hunched over even more, pretending to cry.

Nathaniel's widened as Antonia fell to the ground, continuing to struggle for air. "You alright?" he asked as he walked over to her before kneeling down and attempting to console her. He nervously placed a hand on her shoulder and looked at her with a perplexed expression, wondering how on earth he even hit her. Within his eyes was also deep concern for her. Nathaniel never intended to actually hurt her. "Sorry about it. I thought you were going to dodge that one too," he continued with a frown, staring down at the ground with a tinge of guilt.

Her hand quickly snapped close around Nate's large wrist placed carefully on her shoulder. He was already crouching down, his centre of gravity now at a place where one movement could tip him over either way. Thrusting her body up towards his, she pushed him off balance sending them both toppling until Nate was lying on his back with Antonia holding him down with her foot. "Never let your guard down in a fight," she grinned down at him.

"Noted," he said with a laugh. "Care to help me up?" He asked, returning Antonia's grin with one of his own.

With a smile and a pat on the shoulder, Antonia lifted the large Nathaniel and began round two of the training. She started with the basics: stances, footwork and basic strikes. Those were easy enough for Nathaniel to grasp as he was an enthusiastic learner. She rewarded Nathaniel but exposing him to a select few "advanced techniques" including a handful of counters, holds, throws, grapples, etc. She only showed him a few (the easiest ones), but Nathaniel proved himself capable, having a rough basis in these arts from his time in the streets. After a few hours, Antonia called it a day. She didn't want to overwhelm her student, and Nathaniel's body was grateful. He was bruised, battered and humbled. And he wouldn't have any other way.

SV · Dec 8, 2013

James Hazen - Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England

After the short sparring session with Katerina, James lazed about on the grass for quite a while, before picking himself up and deciding to train his own powers by himself for a while. He would spend the better part of his time outside firing his lightning out into the open field, seeing how much he would be able to do. Though he would have preferred something to fire upon as a better training method, this sufficed in learning a bit about the limitations that he could employ with his abilities.

There was only so much energy he could dish out at a time before he began feeling the tingling sensations followed by numbness of his hands (and if he uses enough energy, arms too). He figured out that his lightning ability was connected to his nervous system, and that continuous usage over a prolonged period would have lasting effects. Of course, even worse than quantitative usage was qualitative usage. That is, using an enormous amount of energy in a single attack. He tried using larger, concentrated bolts a few times during his solo training and discovered that these were the most trying on his body.

Taking note of what he had learned, James decided to call it a day with training. At least, for the moment. He went about the Royal Family for the rest of his free time. He wanted to meet up with Nate, but he never found him around, probably because he was still out training. Instead, he decided to go back out to the courtyard and roam around, doing pretty much nothing. Even among Atlanteans, nothing changes. After about an hour or so of lazing about, he was interrupted by another student, who told him that Leo wanted to see him. Normally, James would tell the kid to piss off when he was in this mood. However, for some strange reason, James shrugged and stood up to go with him. The reason behind this is that he assumed Leo wouldn't have called if it wasn't important. If it turned out to be a waste of time, all the better to go through with what he was planning. If it did turn out to be something important or useful, he would be sure to be apart of it, or just use it as a cover for his own plan.

James was silent through the walk, mostly because he wanted to figure out how best to go about doing what he wanted to do now. He also wondered what it was that Leo could be calling them about. Things only got more confusing when the two knocked on his door, and found Leo there along with the Librarian. James cocked an eyebrow when he saw the man, but decided it was best not to announce that he was fully aware of the man's existence yet. He wasn't sure what relationship Henry had with the ARF as of yet. Granted, it wasn't something he cared about tremendously, but even he was interesting.

Crossing his arms and leaning on the wall next to the door, he waited to find out exactly what was going on, and what he was called in for.

Swolligator · Dec 9, 2013

Wyatt Cale – Syndicate HQ, Birmingham, England

November 11th, 12:35am GMT

The pain all came flooding back as the drugs wore off. Taking in a deep breath, Wyatt held it in as his body shook until he lay rigidly as if he was trying to push the pain out of his body. Next to his head the heart rate monitor rapidly beeped as feet rushed from the nurse's station to hold him down back against the bed. His shoulder felt like it was on fire and all he wanted to do was rip and claw at it. His eyes darted about fearfully, breath still locked into his lungs as a doctor held up a syringe. Wiping down the crook of his elbow, Wyatt could feel the needle as it slowly slid through the layers of skin, puncturing the vein and flooding his system with another dose of morphine. The pain in his shoulder subsided as the numbing began to take over his body; Wyatt finally letting his breath go through a locked jaw. His vision swam as the lights soon filled in all that he could see, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his body lay back to rest.

Wyatt retreated into one of the deeper recesses of his mind; delving into thoughts and memories his conscious self had locked away many years ago. In it, his parents were alive and happily together. Oakley wasn't in boarding school in France and Wyatt was back with them in their family home. The sun was nice and the both of them were swimming in the backyard pool with their neighbours while the parents talked over a platter of cheese and crackers. It was literal bliss. However no matter how much he enjoyed that day in particular, he always felt sad. Sad for the family he lost, sad for the fact that he knew he would quite possibly never have something that good again. He was his own family now, he didn't need people holding him down and dragging him back. Needless, in his drug induced state he enjoyed the brief moment of elation he had at this point.

November 11th, 1:15pm GMT

When Wyatt next woke he was surprised to see a figure hunched up in a chair beside his bed, her attention focussed on the drawings in her hands. She was noticeably Eastern European in descent, her face typically angular and long brown hair cascading down just past her shoulders. She looked slightly battered and bruised from the previous day, Wyatt only just remembering saving her prior to getting the bullet wound now wrapped up beneath his shoulder. She wore a similar female style Syndicate outfit to October's; however the girls had more places for attachments and clips. When he awoke she looked at him for a moment; her sparkling blue eyes meeting with his soft green ones.

"I-I just wanted to make sure you were alright," she slightly stammered, turning her head to the side as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Wyatt didn't need his supervision to pick up on this aspect.

"Thank you," he croaked, reaching for the glass of water and drinking deeply, "What's your name?" in between saving her and getting shot, he didn't really have the time to ask her such a simple question. Then again, he wasn't expecting to see her again.

"Pyrrha," she said quietly, "Pyrrha Kozyrev. The big guy with arms told me you were Wyatt." She seemed slightly embarrassed knowing his name before he knew hers, but Wyatt wasn't too worried.

"Yeah, Wyatt Cale," pushing himself up, he winced as a sharp pain tweaked in his shoulder, causing him to grit his teeth together. Pyrrha tried to stop him from getting up, pushing him back onto the bed, but Wyatt insisted he get out of the bed. On the chair next to Pyrrha sat a shirt from Wyatt's draw; his previous shirt having been cut open and thrown away. Holding his arm close to his body, he made his way from his bed over to the doctor's office.

"Can I be discharged?" he asked the bewildered man as Wyatt held his arm close to his body to minimise pain.

"I should run some final diagnostics to-" the man was halfway through speaking before Wyatt cut him off.

"Yes or no, can I be discharged, now?" he asked more emphatically, Pyrrha standing behind him. He didn't have time to muck around lying in a silly hospital bed waiting for his shoulder to heal. He would much rather be either up with the others relaxing around their living quarters or down in the lab training with his bow.

The doctor scribbled a couple of words onto a form with his name clearly written at the top, followed by a signature before turning to the glaring Wyatt, "You have been discharged, sir." Rolling his eyes, Wyatt left the hospital wing with Pyrrha in tow, calling an elevator and hitting the button to send them both down to the lab.

"Shouldn't you rest?" she asked him cautiously; obviously more worried about his health than he was.

"Nah, I'll be fine. I just need to train." Wyatt continued to look straight forward, his eyes refusing to deter from the locked elevator doors until they opened again into the control room for the training lab. The scientists paid no heed to his presence here, noses buried deep into their research save one particular individual.

"Ah, Wyatt, nice to see you back on your feet! " Doctor Meier came strutting over from his computer located in the centre of the large glass window that looked down on their training field. His coat looked as dishevelled as always; his glasses slightly askew. "Nice to see you healthy too, Pyrrha," he smiled at the Russian girl hiding shyly behind Wyatt, the two had obviously met.

"Nice to see you too, Doctor," Wyatt grinned at the man, finally happy to talk to someone who was just more willing to get him training than he was, "get the sensors, I need to train." It came out more as a command than a request, leaving the doctor shocked.

"Sure Wyatt," he now said half-heartedly, gazing between Wyatt's shoulder and his face; obviously news travelled fast around this place. "First of all," he snatched the redundant glasses from Wyatt, popping the thin glass from the frames and leaving them drop to the floor. He retreated to his desk, picking up a couple of items before returning to the two. Fitting what looked like two light-blue tinged glass into the frames, the doctor handed it back to Wyatt, whom promptly put them on.

At first sight everything was tinged in a blue glow, but slowly his ability corrected the vision; everything returning back to the lush, vibrant world his ability had opened up to him. He wondered exactly what the Doctor had done to the lenses as his ability corrected the old lenses as well. "Wow, lenses with a flare," he commented sarcastically.

"Those lens' are made from Atlantite; a rare crystal that use to grow abundantly on the island of Atlantis. It'll help you control your ability, like a tap as some would say." The Doctor spoke in a matter of fact tone. To Wyatt, there seemed nothing different to the glasses than there had been before, but if he was right, then Wyatt believed he should have greater control over his ability.

Wyatt began focussing his ability, before now he had little control over which facet of his ability activated, but as he willed his ability he took in a sharp breath. At first the walls computers around him faded out of existence as he stood alone in the emptiness; the floors above and below him slowly revealing themselves before they disappeared. He retracted his sight; pulling it in so only the immediate vicinity disappeared before switching to thermal vision. Around him everything turned from its crisp, vibrant state to varying shades of red. He looked all over the room at the many blobs of red, some burning hotter than the others. Wyatt now marvelled at his new found control; of course it wasn't as powerful as he was used to, but at least he had control over it now.

"There's more?" he asked, returning to his normal vision.

"There is always more," the bald doctor spoke with excitement as he motioned for Pyrrha and Wyatt to follow him down the stairs to the training room below. Today the room had been split in half by a thick glass wall rising up from the ground and little over two meters high. Through the wall Wyatt could see Pyrrha's brother and newest recruit, Daemon, battling it out against the metallic Seamus. The two jumped and parried each other, moving back and forth in random movements trying to offset the other and gain the upper hand. Seamus' skin gleamed the sleek steely blue of what the Doctor called 'Atlantium'; a supposed rare metal that the Atlanteans used. While pale white bones protruded from Daemon's palms, his fingers wrapped around the base as he swung and spun with the two bones slashing wildly in the air. Wyatt's vision picked up on the blood slowly dripping from Daemon's palms.

Doctor Meier soon stopped at a table laden with a wide array of weapons from palm-sized hand guns to sniper rifles. Almost everything aside from RPGs was on this table; the only thing it lacked as a simple weapon like the bow in his hands. "Unfortunately the bullet did a lot of damage to your shoulder," he pointed to the spot where Wyatt's scar lay hidden beneath his shirt, "So you can't use that bow. Instead, Pyrrha here will train to use a gun.

Wyatt shifted his vision to look at the Russian girl standing next to him. She looked like she was still under twenty, so he wondered just what kind of training she would be giving him if she wasn't even old enough to handle a gun. "Um, you're kidding, right?" he asked, laughing slightly.

Grabbing several guns off the table, Pyrrha attached them to her suit before barging back past Wyatt. Slowly she walked forward, carefully placing one foot in front of the other as she at first grabbed a small SMG, unclipping it and firing off a volley of shots at a target in the distance. Next she pulled a sniper rifle over her shoulder and let off two rounds followed by an Assault Rifle, shotgun as she got within distance, and a handgun now aimed at the target's forehead. Not once did she wince at a single bullet she let loose, turning back to look at Wyatt with sass before pulling the trigger. He was blown back at not just her proficiency and aim, but also by the way she made it all seem natural. It was as if she came screaming into this world holding a gun in her hands.

"Weapon Proficiency," Meier mused as she returned to them, her mouth cocked up in a smirk. He left them to it as she returned; running back up the stairs to watch their progress from a safe distance.

Pyrrha took one of the remaining guns from her uniform, handing the handgun to Wyatt with her hand wrapped around the barrel. "Hit it with your best shot," she challenged him.

Legend · Dec 9, 2013

Nathaniel Calaway- Atlantean Royal Family Mansion, Boston, England

Nathaniel used to love cold showers. He found the icy water pelting him in the face to be relaxing. The shock to his body refreshing. The whole thing was a means to clear his head. It became an opportunity to allow his mind to race without worry. He could clear his head and refocus. It was a moment of zen, even if he never bought into any of the Japanese philosophy stuff. It was close to it, at least he thought so.

But now, the cold water does nothing for him. Even at its coldest, the water felt lukewarm. The water splashing in his face was more distracting. The shock nonexistent. It became a reminder that no matter what, life would never go back to the way it was. For better or worse was another matter entirely. Nathaniel would have to figure that out himself. And truthfully, he expected he would find that answer sooner rather than later.

Nathaniel stepped out of the shower and put his clothes on, groaning at the soreness that Antonia had dished out during training. His (now) bad shoulder had not fully recovered from being popped back into place and the aches pulsated to Nathaniel's sore yet recovering ribs. Any adrenaline had long left his system and Nathaniel, at least for now, had nothing to distract himself from the pain. Not one for naps, Nathaniel knew he was going to grow restless if he just sat around eating or wandering aimlessly. Pacing around his room for some time, he made the rather abrupt decision to go down to the library, if nothing else to check out what other books were there. Nathaniel was never much of an avid reader, but truthfully he had no idea what else to do. Antonia did a number on his body, so working out or anything else would be just about stupid. He would consider toying with his bike, but he wasn't sure if they had the equipment on the grounds in order to effectively do anything. That and his bike ran perfectly on the mission, so really there was no work to be done. The library was the only option that was left, unless Nathaniel dared to socialize with some of the Atlanteans. He could do that, but he needed some time to himself. Nathaniel grabbed his jacket and walked over to the library, hoping to avoid any conservation on the way.

The library was appropriately silent as the night, with only a few students scattered about the grounds. It was a small slice of paradise for a man seeking solace from the outside world. The only question now became what would he read. Dare Nathaniel roam in fiction and find a story to read? It didn't sound half bad, but then something caught his eye: a small textbook that simply said Philosophy. "Philosophy…" he said under his breath. Nathaniel's mind wandered to all the past conversations he had up until his moment. The debates he had with old friends; the deep conversations about morality with others; the long drawn out discussions of plausible theories. Stretching out to philosophy was a bit difficult, but from Nathaniel understood, philosophy was a manner of constructing a way of thinking. There could be something worthwhile in philosophy. Asking around as politely as he could, Nathaniel found where most of the philosophy books were and poked around until a title stood out to him.

"The Prince" he read. It was by Niccolo Machiavelli. The name sounded familiar, like something he may have read on Wikipedia when he was bored on his computer. He shrugged his shoulders, winced out of a small pain and collapsed into a couch. It seemed interesting and then Nathaniel lost himself in the novel. Nathaniel, perhaps because he was blinded by idealism, was tempted to toss aside the book, due to its overbearing messages. But a quote resonated with him for some reason.

"A man who is used to acting in one way never changes; he must come to ruin when the times, in changing, no longer are in harmony with his ways."

Nathaniel couldn't stop reading. He continued to plow the book, enamored with the text despite his staunch disagreements with it. Subconsciously, he found himself forcing himself into a more comfortable position on one of the couches in the library so nothing could distract him. So that he continue to read in peace.

"Uh, excuse me?" A voice said, disguised in a whisper. "Mr. Calaway? Excuse me?"

Nathaniel finally perked up, sliding the book down from his face. "Oh, sorry. I was reading," Nathaniel gestured with the book and a smile. "I don't recognize you. What's your name?"

"Oh. It's, uh, Alex," he said.

"Nice to meet you, Alex. Now, how do you know me?" Nathaniel continued, picking himself out of his little makeshift den on the couch, folding the page in the book ever so gently so he could finish later, before placing it back on a shelf.

"Right, right," Alex said, shaking his head. "I've been looking for you for a while. Leo wants to see you in his office."

"Leo? What would he want with me? Did he say anything?" Nathaniel's face lightened up with curiosity and confusion. He could only assume that it was about the operation that Antonia ran, or maybe about the attack. "Well, I can't exactly say no, now can I?"

"I'll bring you there," Alex said with a nod, agreeing with Nathaniel. "I'm going to guess you don't exactly know the way anyway."

"You'd be right about that."

*********

Alex had a slow gait about him, always looking back at Nathaniel, seemingly making sure that he was still following him. It made Nathaniel uncomfortable about the whole thing. He wanted to let his mind wander and theorize, but it was perhaps better to not jump to conclusions. At least not yet. It could be nothing. After all, Nathaniel was a fresh recruit. Leo could be simply welcoming him a bit late to the mansion.

"You aren't going to ask, are you?" Alex said rather abruptly.

"Ask what?" Nathaniel returned the favor, as politely as he could.

"What my ability is. That seems to be the thing to do lately. That's how we greet each other. After all, it's who we are now."

"Does it matter?" Nathaniel posed another question with a smile. Alex was taken aback. "Seems a bit rude to me to be completely honest. Sure, I am guilty of asking a couple of Atlanteans the question, but I think it's only because we are afraid," Nathaniel paused and looked again at Alex. "We are afraid of what the world will think about us. We are curious to see what others can do and compare notes. To see if the outside world is really justified in fearing what we can do. Because of that, we lost sight of something in these few short weeks: Whatever we can do is a small part of who we are. These abilities don't define us. They don't make us any different than what we were. At the end of the day, we are still people. We have families. Friends. Hopes. Dreams. We just need find our place in the world again." Nathaniel placed a hand on Alex's shoulder. "So hold on to hope. It may seem bleak, but we will always have hope."

Alex stayed quiet and pointed down the hall. "Leo's office is down the hall. It will be on your left."

"Thanks, Alex. I'll see you around," Nathaniel shook his head and waved goodbye, approaching the door. James arrived around the same time and the two exchanged a nonverbal greeting before knocking on the door. The fact James had arrived may have confirmed Nathaniel's earlier suspicions, for better or worse. They were permitted to enter.

Leo was seemingly comfortable in his office, but behind him…standing there…was the Librarian. Nathaniel kept his best poker face on, trying to follow James' lead for the moment. He didn't react. In fact, he seemed rather collected. Nathaniel was half tempted to reveal his relationship with the Librarian, seeing how Leo had likely figured them out. That they saw through the Librarian's plan. Then again, what was his plan? He was forward, but never that forward. Did this confirm that the Librarian had connections in the Royal Family? They were too many questions and not enough answers. Whatever the case was, Nathaniel and James were cornered. The only option was to face the music.

Skymin · Dec 10, 2013

Imogen Green and Atticus Forsberg - AUP Headquarters, Toulouse, France

Oakley watched from a seat, her knees curled up to her chest. She was anxious, of all things to be, watching Del and Dom be particularly horrible to this new member. As far as she knew, he had come from the boat, and used to be part of the ARF. She understood why they were doing it - with all they had been told about the ARF, they were made out to be such horrible people - but she didn't know why they were doing it. As far as Oakley could tell, he seemed nice enough. Maybe it was... them trying to assert their dominance?

"Wh-what's up, Oakley?" A voice came from beside her. She quickly turned, remembering Freddie sitting next to her. She relaxed, slowly blinking as she rested her chin back on her knees.

"It's okay. I'm just nervous." Freddie gave a small nod of acknowledgement. He was smart, he could tell when someone was just lost in their thoughts. Oakley silently thanked him and surveyed the rest of the plane, noticing Devon sitting by himself. She suddenly remembered something she had to do. "Sorry, I just remembered something."

She unbuckled herself and carefully stepped down the aisle, also remembering that planes had turbulence and she had fallen over on one before. She found herself in front of Devon, who looked up at her. His eyes were different now. Less determined. Sad? Perhaps a little lost. It was hard to really tell what was going on inside there. Instead of asking she pulled out the necklace the Librarian had given her.

"C'est pour vous." She held her fist out, to which Devon pulled his hand up to take whatever she was offering. She dropped it in his hand and after examining it for a few seconds, looked even sadder than before.

"Merci." He pulled it over his head, the blue crystal dropping under his shirt. "Je suis désolé."

Oakley shook her head, not really wanting to talk about it too much. It made her feel bad enough that she had to throw him off the boat, let alone the fact he did jump and snap his... jaws at her. "Ce n'était pas votre faute." She quickly excused herself back to her chair, not wanting to feel anymore anxious than usual. She didn't want any more accidents to happen. She tucked herself back into her seats, only to feel a warm hand on her shoulder. Freddie was smiling back at her.

"You know, you remind me a lot of my n-niece."

"I do?"

"Yeah. She turned six not too long ago. I missed her b-birthday but I sent her a present in the mail. I hope she got it." He sighed, his eyes glazing over as he remembered his family. "I miss her. And my sister. All g-growing up and living their lives without me. Getting married. Having kids. I haven't seen them in a while. I don't even know if they're... well, like me or not."

"Do you have... anyone? A wife?" Freddie laughed and shook his head.

"I've never b-been good with the ladies. And I don't think that's going to get any b-better now." He gestured to himself. "G-goats aren't exactly the top of people's turn on lists." He trailed off, staring out the window a moment. Oakley kept quiet, unsure what to say but Freddie didn't take long to come back. "Do you have a family?"

"Yes." Oakley nodded. "My dad. And my brother. But I haven't seen Wyatt in a long time now. I miss him too."

"Yes. It's too bad we can't all have the ability to turn back time." Oakley nodded sadly. "Maybe we'll see them after all of this is over. Actually, let's make sure we see them. Make it a personal mission. We'll m-make sure we'll find them. How does that sound?"

Oakley nodded again. She hadn't thought about her brother in a while now. Was he like her? Did he have to try to put a hold on his emotions to stop the pain in his body? Or was he something entirely different? Or perhaps not at all. Was he even alive? She shuddered to think what he was doing.

"Buckle up, young ones! Ve vill descend for new Atlantis shortly!" Misha's voice came from the cabin, yelling instead of using the overhead PA.

Shortly was sooner than everyone thought, the plane descending almost immediately after the announcement. Oakley made a small gasp as her ears popped and held on to her arm rests. Soon, they had touched down on the ground, Oakley taking a peek out the window only to see cold-looking air and a decent amount of snow on the ground. When the plane had come to a halt and they were given the ok to disembark, Oakley stepped out of the plane after Atticus and Freddie, suddenly glad she had dressed warmly when a cold wind blew her way.

They were guided out of the landing strip and out of the airport, this time into a car for a short drive. Oakley marvelled at her surroundings as the main part of 'New Atlantis' came into view. It was a little snowy, so it was hard to see too much, but what she could see was fantastic; it was like looking at an unfinished city. There were a few taller buildings, but the majority of the city was two to four story buildings, mostly modern looking with a touch of a classic feel. Like there had been a town here before, but they were adding on to it. The entire town or city or whatever it was seemed to circle around this wonderful house (or was it a mansion? A castle? It was so overwhelming!). It was hard to see, but Oakley could tell in the summer, the gardens and fountain would be simply a sight to see. They pulled into the large house's driveway, passing people by, some more obviously Atlantean than others. Oakley smiled. Was this what the AUP was striving for? A place of peace for those burdened by their heritage? To be what they were without hostility or abuse?

"Where are we?" Oakley asked Atticus, who was driving the van.

"New Atlantis. Or more specifically, Lindholm, a small city on the coast of Sweden. I'm not sure how, but Emil owns this island. It was wiped out by a fire in the '90s and the population was evacuated and kind of... never came back. He restored it and we're... making it better." It was true, the buildings under the modern structures looked rather European. "This house here was originally owned by the richest man on the island, but Emil wants it to be like a town hall. Most of the people who live here permanently now live in town but it does have bedrooms and stuff for the more temporary citizens."

"It vas first building sat vas restored! And zis fountain! Glorious!!" They pulled up to the entrance, Misha hopping out of the car as soon as he could to show them the main piece of the front lawn. The fountain was not in use (probably too cold for splashing water) and covered in snow, to which Misha quickly dusted off with his great big hands. Behind the snow was a dazzling blue crystal but with a closer look, seemed it was made of dozens, maybe hundreds of smaller blue crystals. The blue was so familiar and Oakley knew just where she had seen it before; she raised her locket to her face to compare and indeed, this fountain must be made of Atlantean crystals.

"Why so many?"

Devon was the one to answer this time. "There's heaps of these all over New Atlantis. The biggest one is inside, in dad's study. He's collected a lot of Atlantean crystals over the years and they all go into these beacons over the city." He looked over the lawn, his eyes drifting into the city. "I don't know what they do, nobody really knows except him and Cooper."

"It is surprise!" Misha laughed, clapping his hands together. "I am sure zat vhatever it does vill amaze us all!"

"Mm." Atticus nodded. "So, yeah, this is New Atlantis. We've been asked to stick around here for a little bit. Help the people here, make sure nothing bad is happening under our noses. Everyone here is Atlantean, par a few others who were brought in with their Atlanten families. They're all here for safety, to get away from the wars that are going on in the rest of the world. So if you want to go for a walk around town, please don't harass people. A lot of these people were Atlanteans from Paris and get spooked easy, especially after what happened to them. They're not as strong as you guys." He stopped for a moment, trying to think what else he had to tell them. "There's like, a few shops in town that sell food and stuff if you need any food." He handed the recruits (excluding Devon, who already seemed to have money all worked out) some money, about $20 worth each. "We're only just meant to be here, so you can hang out here at the town hall, or go into town... do what you want. If you need a car or a bike or something, just come in and ask. Just please don't fight with anyone, okay? This place is about peace." He gave them all a nod of dismissal and headed inside, Misha behind him.

"Some of people here have vonderful stories! Better zan vampires!" He gave another chuckle before he disappeared inside behind Atticus.

Swolligator · Dec 10, 2013

Leo Cabrillo – Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England

At first Leo had enjoyed being the figurehead of the Atlantean Royal Family; some would even say his ability was already proof of his leadership ability. But when it came down to it, all the socialising and all the political parties could not make up for the piles of paperwork he had to fill out. From all around the world registration forms of Atlanteans, more than a thousand of them, were continuously arriving at the Mansion. Being the leader, he had to sign off on all the forms and email copies back, filing away the originals. It was tedious work, but it helped them to keep tabs on who needed training the most. Of course, there were still many people who had not registered, so their database was far from complete. Next he sifted through emails; one of hundreds in his inbox was regarding James Hazen, the American Justice System wanting him back on American soil so he could face his crimes. As much of a loose cannon as Hazen was, Leo would rather keep a close eye on him here than send him to an American jail where he could cause more havoc.

Leo ran his hands through his hair, slowly getting more frustrated as the work seemed to just keep piling up on his desk. A hand appeared on his shoulder, calmly resting there but causing Leo to jump at the sudden event. "Chin up, Leo, my boy," the familiar voice spoke from behind him, only slightly reassuring Leo, "you've been doing such a great job so far! You should be proud of yourself! Your parents never ever faced a calamity quite like this before."

Looking into the mirror on his desk, Leo weakly smiled at the grinning face of the Librarian standing strong behind him. "It's always a pleasure to be graced with your presence," Leo sarcastically responded. "How can I help you?" he asked hesitantly, there was always a catch whenever they dealt with the Librarian.

"I've come for a chat! Is it too much to ask to catch up with my dear aquaintance?" A pot of tea and two cups seemed to appear out of nowhere, the Librarian carefully pouring it into both cups. The aroma that wafted to Leo's nose might have been the tastiest tea that he had ever smelt. "Sugar?"

"No thanks." Taking a sip he felt the warm liquid slip down his throat, making him relax and sink into his seat further. Dregdging up the previous day's woes was something Leo wasn't quite comfortable getting into, but he knew anything he told the Librarian would be old news now; the guy knew everything and anything. "Aside from the intrusion, everything has been fine. How's Adeline?" He remembered the last time the Librarian had visited, he had brought his young charge with him; the girl still a punky and rebellious teenager at the time.

"Ah yes, the 'intrusion.' My condolences for those who were lost. I did what I could for your students." He raised his teacup, pausing for a moment in the losts' memory. "And Adeline is wonderful. She insisted that she was given some privacy for a little, and I can't do much more than respect my dear girl's wishes!" He took another sip, then continued. "And my sister? How is she doing these days? Still being the rebellious little rascal that she's always been?" He gave a small laugh.

"She's... still the same." Leo wasn't quite sure what to say, the Librarian knew of her 'condition' longer that he or anyone else had. She never really had any lucid moments where she was herself, just the constant muttering and murmuring in a language lost to the ages. "I guess that's good in a way..." he trailed off, again not really sure how to address her situation at all. Leo shuddered at the thought of having such precognitive abilities which seemed like a huge burden to bear alone.

The Librarian laughed and shook his head. "She's always the one to play tricks on others. It's just a phase, I'm sure she'll grow out of it soon." He took another sip, his eyes glazing over for a moment at the thought of what his poor sister was actually like. And how much he truly missed her and her smile. "Soon." He shook his head again and his smile returned. "Tell me about your students! I've heard all sorts of rumours about this 'James Hazen' character. The papers sure seem to love to talk about him."

"James is... a loose cannon, he's stubborn, and his ego is as high as the roof," Leo was only just reminded of this after James' outburst previously during lunch, "but he has a lot of potential; he's definitely a lot stronger than the rest of the students." Leo felt James was too hot-headed, while he admired the kid's wish to become stronger, he could only feel that he was disregarding his own safety to do so. "The paper's love him, but America still wants him back, they think they can just lock him up." He chuckled at the idiocy of James being locked up; the kid would escape before the next day.

"What a handful! He musn't be the only student like that thought, right? Trouble seems to find company awfully fast..." The Librarian looked over his tea, taking another sip.

"There's only one other that James' gets along with, but he's a lot more cool headed." Leo realised after he had said it the awful pun he had made. "Do you have any students aside from Adeline?"

"Hmm... not as of late. A few escaped my hands only recently. But, I did have my eye on one particular boy..." The Librarian's face lit up, as if a lightbulb had suddenly been switched on. "Say, I have an idea for you to try out. Why don't you send these two troublemakers to recruit someone for me? It might teach them some initiative and respect if they have to be responsible for themselves and others!" The Librarian had finished his tea and sat the cup carefully on the table, his face only growing brighter.

"I don't know, I would much rather keep and I on them here..." Leo sat back in his chair and mulled the thought over; with Oliver's crew already out on a recruitment and Antonia's busy around the mansion, James and Nate seemed like the only real candidates.

"Oh, come on. He's not too far away, only in London. His name is Hayden Prosper. He's a DJ at a local night club. He's some kind of... emotion manipulator. Very good at pumping up a crowd." The Librarian pulled manilla folder of a profile of Hayden out of his jacket, handing it to Leo. "If you do this for me, I promise to do something for you in return." He gave Leo a wink. "There's a lot of things that I am capable of doing, I'm sure you know."

Leo's eyes sparkled as soon as the Librarian mentioned the prospect of a promise; the Librarian was a man of his word and a favour from him was worth it's weight in gold and anyone would be a fool to turn up such an offer. "Alright, okay," he finally agreed to the man's proposition, messaging Techno on his computer to dispatch two students to send both Nate and James to his office. When the boys arrived, both seemed wary of being called here, but Leo soon settled their curiosity."This here is the Librarian, he's... a friend of the Royal Family."

"It's a pleasure to see you both." He gave a bow, adding wink at the end to the both of them. He then turned to Leo. "Thank you very much, my dear Leo, you've been a great help to me. It was a pleasure catching up with you, we must do it again some time." He then turned back to James and Nate. "Good luck, boys! Don't let me down!" And with a final wave, good-bye and a pop, the Librarian was gone.

Leo turned back to the two boys, opening up the manilla folder he had received from the Librarian and turning it around so they could see the dossier of the kid. "His name is Hayden Prosper, 22, lives in London. He works at a local club called 'Wonderland'; I was thinking you two could go on a recruitment mission to bring him back here for us." Leo had his doubts about letting the two go on this mission, but with the Librarian's promise on the line, he might as well let them go, "Willingly of course," he added, knowing both boys weren't shy to using force.

"I can have Nix prep a helicopter for you three to fly down to London in an hours time, what do you think?" He asked the boys. "You two have already proven yourselves, I think it's time we put you into practice with the real deal."

Legend · Dec 11, 2013

James Hazen and Nathaniel Calaway - Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England

James contemplated outing the Librarian then and there. It was becoming apparent from information he had been picking up that the Librarian was not only familiar with the Royal Family, but seemed to have fairly strong ties to it anyway. He had a feeling the man was playing them more than he was playing the organizations they were selected to watch. But really, James didn't care enough to bother to do so. As he bowed before them, James found himself growing irritable of the nature of the man, charming and cheery on the outside, but likely a viper filled with venom on the inside.

So James instead elected to watch in silence as Henry made his introduction and quickly departed after that, and Leo finally brought up the real reason they were called. A recruitment mission. James found it comical that they would even consider him for such a task. They seemed to be getting an idea of what he was about, but still they persisted. He almost let out a laugh too at the mention of them 'proving themselves'. What exactly had James done to prove himself to them? It was a ploy for something else, but he didn't care. Time to surprise them.

"Yeah, alright," James replied shortly after, nodding to him. He turned his head now to Nate to see his own reply. He was however staring at the contents of the file, intently studying it. Seemingly, Nathaniel was engrossed in the file.

"Consider him recruited," Nathaniel finally perked up. "I'll be taking the file. Get the helicopter ready. We'll leave right away," he said, taking charge of the operation. Nathaniel stormed out of the room, not with anger, but with expedience. Surprisingly, the Librarian did not sell them out or anything. In fact, he seemed he was practically related to the Royal Family. So why was Nathaniel a neccessary asset to spy on them? Why was he picked for a recuritment mission? Why was any of this happening? A conspiracy theory would normally rise in his mind, but he dared not comtemplate it now. He would get distracted. It was best to stay on task and focus on this operation. If the Librarian did need Nathaniel to gather more information, he'd have to prove himself. This operation was his ticket into the inner circle.

James nodded at Leo an followed Nate out of the office. He ran a bit forward to catch up to him, before slowing down so the two walked at the same pace. "Well, this is an interesting change of pace," He began, grinning as his eyes observed the object and people they passed on their way to prep for the assignment. "God I hope this won't turn out as boring as the last one."

"It probably will be. It's nothing more than a recruitment mission," Nathaniel scoffed at James' grin. "We go in. Convince him to follow us and bring him back. In and out."

James furrowed his brows, disappointed by Nate's reaction. He increased his pace, getting far enough in ahead of his friend, before cutting him off and stopping in his tracks. "It'll only be as boring as we make it, bud," His expression an demeanor was a combination of seriousness and building excitement. "Nate, this is the first time we'll be outside without anyone or anything to stop us. We've got a better handle on our powers, and we've got no useless 'others' with us. We could do whatever we want, however we want to!" The visible words of 'anything' penetrated his mind, the words he had written down the night of the break-in. He didn't check now, but he believed he still had that paper in his back pocket.

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes and titled his head forward, glaring at James with his cold blue eyes. Visible frustration crept upon him and he carried himself in a far more bold manner, as if he was trying to put James back into his place. "And you think this is an invitation to cause havoc? To flaunt your powers out in the open? To give people an excuse to fear us? To put ourselves and others in more danger than we already in? No, James, this is not what this is. This is a job. And I am going to do it the right way. No, the only way. You aren't going to f*ck it up." Nathaniel walked through James, making sure to bump into the shoulder as he did.

James held up his hands, trying to calm his friend. The problem was, the entire time while he spoke, he had a grin on his face that he couldn't shake, even though he tried to. The reason for that was because the actions Nate suggested was exactly something James wouldn't mind trying to do. Of course, he knew Nate would never go along with him if he said that, so he tried to reassure him otherwise. "Now, hold on. I didn't say anything like that. I meant it more like..." His voice trailed off, his eyes darting to the corner of the room as he tried to think of a diplomatic way of getting his message across that would be both something he would be likely to say and Nate might be more inclined to agree to.

"Okay, so we get our powers, and not long after, we're recruited by Henry into his....whatever," James said, flicking his wrist in an effort to try to describe what exactly the Librarian was. "Every moment after that, we've been under supervision of someone or something else," He emphasized the word supervision, along with making air quotes, showing his distaste for their situation. "We don't need to be their pawns. We don't have to do things their way. We can do things our own way!"

Nathaniel looked at James, locking his eyes once again at him. He tried to hear him out, to attempt to listen to his strange logic. Sadly for James, Nathaniel was a stubborn man, firmly believing in reason. "And what are you suggesting then?" Nathaniel feared for what James would say. Truth be told, Nathaniel was only intending in hearing him out, seeing nothing wrong with what his approach outlined. The mission was simple. The solution even more so. James would make things senselessly complicated and from Nathaniel had experienced so far, that was his nature.

Keeping his grin on his face, James proceeded to speak, excited to see that his friend had at least agreed to hear him out. "The ARF, Henry, they're both just...chains keeping us down." James looked down the hall toward the left and right, watching to make sure no one else was watching. "Down here at the bottom, I can't do anything that I want to do," He looked Nate squarely in the eyes. "I'm leaving," He firmly asserted, before quickly adding. "Come with me."

"And then what?" Nathaniel posed another question. "What are you going to do out there?" Nathaniel gestured, pointing out the nearest window. "There is a reason we are at the bottom. It is because we aren't ready to be at the top yet. We've had these abilities for what…a few weeks. We can't control them. What makes you think you are capable of doing anything that you want without that much. That is what this place can provide. Stability. Training. Control. You don't start at the top. You have to work to get there. Just because you have some ability doesn't make you better than the rest of us. You have to play by the rules."

James scoffed at Nate's words. There were a few times when he was annoyed with what he had to say, but he was particularly disgusted with what Nate said then. Each sentence had something he could critique, but it seemed at that moment that everything his friend had just said completely and utterly...wrong to him. It was as if at this very moment, he thought the exact opposite thoughts of the man opposite of him. Yet as much as he wanted to critique them and argue with him, he could see that, at least for the moment, he wouldn't be convincing Nate of doing anything. "I play by my own rules, and those rules are that there are no rules," He turned around, looking back forward before stepping out of Nate's way so they could go back to preparing to leave. "Just promise me you'll think about it."

"No promises."

Lokiepie · Dec 12, 2013

Charlotte Hunter and Kieran Davis - Atlantean Royal Mansion, Boston, England

Charlotte studied her reflexion in the long length mirror with a soured expression. Dark rings circled her eyes, while at her neck multiple bruises formed purple and red bursts across the china white skin. They were from straps, Charlotte could even see where the buckles had pressed into their original owners' neck. At her collar bright burns flare up while cuts criss-crossed her arms. After 10 minutes of studying each different infraction, she still could not recognise herself. A creature of purple and black. Marred and tired, she sagged against her desk while her fingers sought out the edge of her T-shirt, rolling back the material to expose the equally damaged soft flesh of her stomach. Long cuts made across her abdomen sang down her nerve system in protest as she lifted her arms. While with her other hand, she allowed her fingers to trace a particularly deep slash which ran horizontally across her bellybutton. Each cut, bruise and broken bone told a story; a living record of each slice of the knife or bite of a needle.

"Let the past heal." Her voice purred quietly, lips smirking slightly at the irony of her words. How could it heal? Even with her powers, she couldn't touch the mental scars which had been dealt and after reading a couple of articles on the internet, Charlotte guessed that this escapade was only one of many. Of course it was all guess work. Not a single slither of information about what had happened to them today had appeared on the internet. In fact, it seemed like the public was being kept in the dark.

Other repulsive things found their way onto the news though. Articles of war and capture; of men so afraid of the Atlanteans that they had turned out their own wives and children. Charlotte shivered away from their words. Humans.

"Perhaps we aren't the same after all." Charlotte said as she looked into her own eyes.

"The same as who?" Kieran asked, knocking softly on the wooden frame of Charlotte's door he was currently leaning on. His short, brown hair stuck up at various angles still slightly wet from the shower he had just taken. His plad t-shirt clung to his body in places, small rips around his sleeve from the two bone appendages running along side either arm. "Mind if I come in?"

Neither of them had talked as they boarded the bus back to the mansion, Kieran too lost in thought about his brother to really want to converse with anyone. With most of the kids huddling traumatised on the bus, it was a rather quiet and uneventful ride. He smiled as he recalled Charlotte's bravery in jumping in to heal as many people as she physically could after coming out of the mess they had both been in. His own cell hadn't been that scary, but from the look of her as she emerged from her cell, they had decided to test her abilities rather thoroughly. Needless to say, she was a lot stronger than he was.

At the sound of Kieran's voice, Charlie stilled, her fingers slowly replacing the fabric of her t-shirt back to hide the ugly scars which marred her stomach. Those were her scars to bear and for now, she was not ready to share them. "No one I guess." Charlotte replied as she stood and looked towards the door, forcing a smile across her lips before motioning for Kieran to enter.

From first glances Kieran looked well enough. No blood, no bruises. He looked normal, bar of course the damp shirt and the wet hair but Charlotte tried not to focus on those details too much.

"So, you alright? I didn't miss any of your cuts or anything like that did I?" The question was meant to be a light one, though after their past day, Charlotte felt odd trying to make small talk.

"Nah, I'm all healed, thanks," Kieran walked in, taking a seat on Charlotte's bed with his back against the wall. He didn't really know why he was here, part of him wanted to make sure Charlotte hadn't seen him interact with Adrian but the other part just wanted someone to talk to after being alone in the silence of the cell. At first he thought to approach about what her cell was like, but Kieran was sure it would be something she would much rather forget.

"So you're a local then? A Brit I mean," he asked her, rather quite fascinated with her accent.

"Local?" Charlotte almost giggled, "I guess you would be right. My family is from Scotland, near Glasgow but we moved down to Manchester when I was a kid." Shrugging. The ghost of her Scottish tongue still clung to her words but these days it was faint, replaced by a softer southern tone. "What about you? A long way from home from the sounds of it " Charlotte smiled, shifting back onto her desk, balancing her chin on the heels of her hands.

"How'd you come to be in Merry Ol' England?"

Kieran swallowed before he answered, holding back the tears and feelings, "You could say I was right in the middle of the sh*t storm," he let out a single laugh, "my family lived in Melbourne. We were on holiday in Berlin when the bomb went off." Kieran turned away to wipe his eye on his shoulder, still trying to keep the tears at bay. "My brother's forcefield was enough to protect us both, but after the explosion he disappeared. I searched for him and my parents in the rubble but there was nothing left of them." Kieran now forced his eyes closed, a single tear running down his cheek as he forced back the tears.

"The Royal Family found me, recognised me as an Atlantean," at this Kieran lifted up his arms slightly, motioning to the bones protruding from them, "they brought me here. So here I am." He smiled at Charlotte, no longer bothered by his watery eyes.

"What's your story? Secret spy agent parents?" Kieran grinned as he looked at Charlotte, ever since his parents death she had been the first person to truely make him smile again. Just looking at her sweet face made him feel warm and whole on the inside. While what he told her was practically the truth, he still felt the pang in his stomach as he lied to her. As much as he liked this girl, Fletcher's and his own safety were paramount and so he needed to maintain his position within the Royal Family.

Charrlote chuckled, shaking her head. ""The Royal Family kinda salvaged me from the rubble in London after a crazy French human hand grenade when all Voltorb in my registration with Justin." She skipped the details about Justin being shot and her abysmal attempts to save him.

"But I guess we are both here now." Charlotte met Kieran's eyes with a unsettled purse of her lips. "Safe or not. We at least have new friends."

Standing, little awkwardly, Charlotte moved to join Kieran and nodded to bone points protruding from his skin. "Do they hurt?" The question was mostly out of curiosity but also an escape from the subject they had touched on. She could see the redness of Kieran's eyes but she was scared to broach the subject even more. Scared to say the wrong thing and hurt him more. He had been through enough and she didn't want to make things worse. Charlie cared. Perhaps a little bit too much about the guy next to her and that worried her. After all, they were stood on the brink of war.

Disregarding this thought however, she motioned forward with her hands towards Kieran's arms, her question did not need to be answered by words.

"Go ahead," he brought his arm over carefully so as not to cut or scratch her with it, "when they started growing a couple of weeks ago it was pretty intense pain, imagine bone pushing itself through your muscles and skin. But now they're pretty strong, a bit jarring sometimes... and leathal too!" Kieran was glad Charlotte had been the one to change the subject, as much as he was fine talking about what had happened, he still wasn't quite over it.

Presenting his arm, Charlotte reached forward and despite the coolness of her finger tips against his warm skin, he did not flinch away. Instead he simply watched as Charlotte tentivyly traced his skin with her fingers, allowing her power to seek out any pain or discomfort in warm waves.

"Thank you by the way." Charlotte muttered without looking away from her fingers "For sharing that pain. From before I mean, with the kid who's arm had been…" She trailed off, her memory jerking away from the blood which pooled around the young boy as he screamed. Her fingers stilled at the memory as her throat strained. "We aren't safe here are we?"

Charlie spoke outloud, though the words had caught her off guard. It had only meant to be a thought. A secret.

"No, we're not," Kieran spoke blatantly, like Charlotte he surprised himself as the words came out of his mouth. He remembered the pain of the kid flooding through his system, the pain of being held captive, and the panic of being shot and sedated in the early morning. The last twenty four hours had been horrible, yet they still stood strong. As much as he wanted to whisk her away to the safety and anonymity of the Syndicate, he had a job here first to complete. "Charlotte," he locked eyes with her, their feelings conveyed to one another in a simple stare, "as long as I'm here, I'll do my best to keep you safe."

Nodding, frozen in Kieran's gaze Charlotte felt a multitude of emotions surge, most of which she was not ready to face. Her tongue felt thick and heavy and with her voice long lost in the silence which followed she chose action instead, the fatigue of their day finally finding them. Leaning forward, Charlotte pressed her forehead into Kieran's chest, bring her hands up to clutch at his shirt. In pure reaction, Kieran wrapped his arms about her without a second's hesitation, securing Charlotte against his chest.

"Stay?" Charlotte whispered over a yawn, speaking into his chest as she glanced up from beneath his chin, afraid of what her sleep might bring alone. Kieran simply nodded and leaned back onto her bed, pulling Charlotte up to rest her head on his chest. Only ever removing one arm long enough to grab a discarded shoe from his feet and throw it at the open door, making it swing shakily shut.

Like a kitten curled against a rottweiler's broad chest, Charlotte rested. Kieran remaining awake until he felt her breathing slow before allowing himself to follow her into sleep, his arms never releasing their charge from their safety.

It wasn't till the morning that Charlotte awoke to an empty bed. Caccooned in blankets, she slowly lifted herself from the soft mattress and glanced around her, hoping to find Kieran sat at her desk, but her effort went unrewarded. He had left, but only after making sure that she was warm, Charlie noted, unfurling herself from her sheets and standing shakily. Had he even stayed last night? or had he simply waited still she drifted off to sleep?

"No..." Charlotte managed voice grating in her throat. She could still feel where Kieran's fingers had brushed against her cheek , or where his lips had found her forehead every time she would start awake or murmur. He had stayed. Definitely.

Gradually as the seconds ticked by, Charlie readied herself for the coming day. By 10:30 she had changed and her hair was back to manageable state. By 11 she was down in the cafeteria eating food. Well picking at food really. Her appetite seemed to have been left back at the dock. The smell of cauterised flesh was still fresh in her memory as she pushed a charred piece bacon around her plate.

She had work to do, patients to check on as well as finding a teacher. If the previous night had taught her anything, she needed to learn how to defend herself, even if her primary role was the nurse. But this didn't stop her from playing with her food for a little while longer, before slowly she rose and stumbled over to discard her tray.

Legend · Dec 15, 2013

James Hazen, Nathaniel Calaway and Nix Bai- On the job, England

Nix had the helicopter prepped and ready by the time the other two arrived on the helipad situated on the roof of the ARF's mansion. Bags were beginning to form under his eyes from the previous two sleepless nights; even back in his bed in the mansion he could not stop having nightmares of the torture he had been through. For those scientists to abuse his ability like that scarred him deeply. For now, he stood outside the helicopter, leaning on the open door waiting for the other two to arrive. As far as he knew, Leo had asked him to fly them to London and back.

James got to the helipad first, eager to get this 'mission' underway. He moved passed Nix without speaking much to him initially beyond a simple nod of his head. He didn't know what Nate would decide to do once they were out there in London, but he had already made up his own mind about what he planned to do. Starting from now on, he would only do what he wanted to do, or what was best for him. He could feel the excitement beginning to build, accompanied by the unknowing of where it would take him. He would walk his own path, but the journey there was something he couldn't possibly predict.

Nathaniel eventually came to the helipad, walking at a brisk but not rushed pace. He had went to his room for a short time, only to grab his usual outfit. He half expected that they were would be some difficulties in the mission. With that in mind, his practical style would be serve well enough. "You must be Nix. Nice to formally meet you," Nathaniel said, offering a handshake. "I see you met James already."

Nix eyed Nate's hand before eventually shaking it, "Same to you," he responded in a low, hushed tone. He stood firm despite the shiver that ran up his spine as he made contact with Nate's cool skin, not wanting to alarm Nate with any reaction. Once both were seated in and the door shut, Nix made his way around to the front of the Helicopter, making final preparations before they set off for London. He strapped on his head set, motion for the two behind him to do the same before gripping the controls tightly and lifting into the sky.

It took them several hours to fly to London; the only talking Nix had done was with the communications towers at neighbouring airports to confirm his usage of the airspace. Heathrow was the nearest airport they could land at that would get them close enough to the city and so after much delay by the communication tower, they were able to land to the side of the domestic terminal. The three walked into the bustling terminal, seemingly out of place without any luggage, but Nix knew his way around enough to get them a rental car and soon they were heading into the city.

Night was falling by the time they arrived at the club, a bright neon sign illuminated the sidewalk with 'Club Phoenix' in stylised letters spread over top a bird on fire. The Atlantean they were after often worked nights here as a DJ; his recent ability was thought the reason for the club's growing popularity. It was still early in the night so no line had formed as of yet, which meant they could easily get in and out without any hassle.

"I escort you two. Not fight." He spoke to the others. "You have plan?" he asked.

"A few ideas," Nathaniel said. "Not sure how I am going to approach it yet," he admitted. He crossed his arms. "I mean, there is the easy way and the hard way. The easy way is we intimidate him and force him to join. The hard way is to convince him to join. So unless one of you has a brilliant plan, that is the way we are going to do it."

"We can figure it out when we get inside," James said, rolling his eyes a bit at Nix's mention that he would be going with them. An idea came to his head. "Hey, how about you let Nate and I take this one on our own?" He suggested, trying to play it off a calmly as possible. "It would be good practice for us. Besides, you look like hell." He feigningly joked. He just wanted to get away from Nix.

"我不是你的帮佣,白人.你觉得我就等在这儿..." He muttered under his breath, slightly annoyed that James wanted him to sit in the car and wait for them. He understood what James was saying, that the guy was joking, but still took offense to it. Getting out the the car, he shut the door, waiting out in the cold air of the others to join him before walking across the busy road to the club. There were two people ahead of him waiting to have their IDs checked and so Nix placed his hands in his pockets, rummaging around for his passport.

"Motherf*cking piece of sh*t," James cursed, following Nix outside with a forceful slam of the car door. Nathaniel followed in silence, understanding James' frustration but hardily approving it of it. Nix had experience, it would be useful and he wanted to succeed. That was more important than anything else.

The club was rather lively for this time of night, but according to the DJ's profile, the guy could easily hype up massive crowds of people in one night. It was fairly large, the DJ set up at the back of the room with seating and tables closer to the front and a wide dance floor in-between. Neon lighting illuminated much of the club, with disco lights swinging all over the crowd and brackets on the wall crackling with fire. Nix fought the urge to go dance with the rest of the crowd.

Leaving Nate and James to deal with the doorman, he made his way to the bar where a younger Chinese girl was mixing cocktails. The two began speaking in rapid fire Mandarin before she brought him out a soda. From his position at the bar, Nix eyed the other two guys, watching what they would do.

James reached into his wallet at the front desk, looking through the different pockets in search of his ID. In one of the pockets, he spotted a peculiar card with a strange, bird-like insignia on it. The Librarian gave it to him right before he left the mansion. He didn't really explain what it was for, other than that he would know who to give it to when he saw him. He decided for the moment not to bother with it, or bring it up to Nate. He also decided, at least for the moment, not to outright throw it away, if only to pay back any debt he owed him for helping with training. He never liked owing people anything. He pushed the white card further into his wallet and took out his ID, showing it to the bouncer before being allowed to proceed inside.

Upon entering James was overwhelmed all at once with the massive sights and sounds of the club. He took a moment to adjust to the flashing lights, and for his ears to make out the beats and sounds as normal. It was unlikely that anyone would be able to hear him unless he yelled, and even then that would be difficult. James found the beating of the bass in the music, the fast-paced thumping begin to coordinate with his own heartbeat, speeding it up as if his body was fueling him with the adrenaline. He wondered if it was his body reacting to what was around, or if he was doing it himself in anticipation of what was to come. Beyond the sea of people dancing and chatting across the room, James could see the DJ table set up near the end. Likely, they would have to proceed over there through the crowd eventually, but James figured he would go get a drink first.

Nathaniel, meanwhile, was hoping to coordinate with James on how to exactly approach the situation. Yet before he could do much of anything like that, James had disappeared leaving Nathaniel by his lonesome. It's not all bad, he tried to tell himself. At least this way, James can't mess anything up. His mind raced back to the last conversation they had. James' desire to do things his way. By his own rules. What did he really mean by that? Part of it scared Nathaniel. He knew James' potential. How powerful he could be. The brief training with the Librarian proved that much. Nathaniel...he wasn't near that level. At least in his own mind he wasn't. Though he would never admit that much to anyone. He could hope that he could change James' mind. He practically gave up on explicitly trying, but he could never James would become so taken in by his new identity. He was resolute as if he had found a purpose. A purpose that represented everything that Nathaniel wanted to avoid. A dangerous purpose.

Nathaniel had to shake off his concerns. He couldn't let his own focus waver. There was a job to do. With James becoming a lost cause and Nix lost in the crowd, it was up to him to accomplish the mission and get everyone out of there before something else happened. Nathaniel slowly moved through the crowd, sliding through as gingerly as he could. While his friends back home and even his British roommates had gone to clubs from time to time, they knew better than to bring Nathaniel along. Yet, now, Nathaniel wished he take them up on their offer. He hardly knew the proper way to pass through the crowd, rejecting a few offers to dance. At least that is what he assumed the suggestive rubbing of women all over his body. Nathaniel just felt frustrated, finding the music abhorrent. Strangely, everyone else was enjoying it. Was the Atlantean's power in action? Nathaniel found only a limited desire to get involved. Perhaps his focus on the mission made the ability of Hayden have only a limited effect on Nathaniel. That or it was a sign of something greater at work.

Walking up to the bar, James fought his way to the counter and yelled across for his order. "Jack, straight, two rocks!" He hollered. The girl leaned in closer, and ask him to repeat. "JACK, STRAIGHT, TWO ROCKS!" He yelled louder, to which the bartender nodded and proceeded to make his drink. James relaxed on the stool, turning around to observe the dance floor. He tapped his foot with the music and bobbed his head slightly as he waited for his drink. The thumping of the music coordinated again with the beating of his heart. Strangely, even through all this noise interfering, he could still hear it, or at least thought he heard it. He closed his eyes, the beating growing louder. He tried to drown out all the rest of the noise, and tried to focus only on that. The beating grew louder, and louder.

Tapping on the back of his shoulder caused him to open his eyes and turn to see the bartender holding his drink. He reached out and grabbed it, slamming a 10 pound note he managed to exchange for his dollars back in the library. He smiled brightly at the bartender, who smiled back, as the exchange was made. Then, in a normal voice, but one that she couldn't have possibly heard because of the noise, he spoke to her. "If I said I was going to kill you right now, how would you react?"

The bartender leaned in again to hear him better. James leaned in with her, his smile still on his face and spoke up louder into her ear. "I said...give me one more!" He yelled, moving away and gulping down the bitter tasting beverage in his hands. She nodded to him, and went on to make another one. He turned around again and continued to observed the dancing, wondering what was going to happen next.

Nathaniel had finally broken through the crowd and approached the DJ's table. His great height and mass commanded Hayden's attention as he opened his eyes for a second, breaking the trance that he had immersed himself in. "I'm not taking any requests, mate!" Hayden yelled at as loud as he could over the booming bass and thunderous roar of dancing.

"I have a different kind of request!" Nathaniel fired back, inching himself closer to the table. He forced himself ever closer to Hayden, moving within only inches from Hayden. He felt a greater urge to dance as he approached Hayden, but resisted the urge. Did his powers work within greater vicinity? Or was Nathaniel's will simply wavering. He couldn't really tell, nor did he care. Nathaniel refocused and stared down Hayden, hoping the intimidation tactic would work.

"Look! I don't want trouble! It's a party, man! Loosen up!" the DJ protested, still yelling despite being closer than before. Nathaniel felt another urge to drop everything and cave in to Hayden's suggestion. The allure of the dance floor was mind bending. Nathaniel, hardly a party animal, wanted to experience it. To let loose and dive deeply into sea of alcohol, dancing and everything that came with. Hayden had some control over his ability, no doubt having practiced for some time, and Nathaniel had to will himself against the waves of emotional manipulation that Hayden tried to drown him with.

"I know what you are," Nathaniel said, placing one hand on the table as he came dangerously close to Hayden. He felt Hayden shiver, hearing the gasp from his mouth. He lifted his hand from the table to reveal an icy handprint in its wake. "We need to talk. Now!" Nathaniel said loudly.

Hayden took a deep breath as Nathaniel returned the air to a warmer state, ending the cooling cycle. "I-uh...after I'm done, okay?" Hayden finally said. Nathaniel simply nodded and left the stage, returning to the sea of people but keeping an eye fixed on Hayden, while another searched for James and Nix.

Nix grabbed James by the shoulder, gripping him tightly and turning him around so they faced one another. He was angry, furious that James thought they were here for a drink rather than the mission they had been sent on. It was supposed to be a simple recruitment, get in then back out to return home. "You not drink!" He yelled at James, tearing the drink from his grip and slamming it on the counter, causing it to spill. "Recruit now! Then we go home!" Nix yelled again, this time motion to the DJ who was slowly gathering a larger crowd.

James looked between Nix and the drink that he grabbed from his hands. "Nate's going on that!" James smiled casually at the man and went back for his drink, gulping down the entire contents just as the second one was brought to him. "Relax!" He yelled to him, before saying softer to him, through the noise making it likely harder for Nix to catch what he was saying. "Enjoy your last night out!"

It took a split second for Nix's fist to make contact with James' nose,causing the crowd around them to rapidly move away from them. behind him, the bartender tapped quickly at a phone hidden beneath the while many patrons looked in wonder at the confrontation. "As*hole!" Nix spat at James, his face contorted in disgust. He just couldn't believe how selfish this guy was.

James was pushed back onto the counter by the force of the punch, being turned around just as the girl was going for the phone. He moved his hand up to his nose and checked it over, seeing a small strain of red on it. He drew the first blood. "Alright," He muttered to himself, reaching for the second drink on the counter right next to the first, empty one. He twirled it around in his hand, letting the ice hit along the glass, before downing the second drink as well. He then turned around to face Nix, his elbows on the counter. He looked around, seeing most of the crowd move away from the immediate area, but a few remained around to see what happens next. He wondered what they expected would happen, as if they had an idea of how events would play out.

Not this time. James positioned his hands in front of him, pointing at Nix. He gathered energy from within himself as well as from the surrounding bar-lights, as well as the phone the girl was using. He felt the surge of electricity traveling from deep within his body, across his arms, and straight through his hands. Two bolts, directed right at Nix's chest. Both hit him square in the Solar Plexus causing his body to convulse before dropping to the floor like a stone. The crowd around them drew a sharp breath in anticipation, not really knowing what to do. Once the initial shock wore off, mayhem struck as the crowd surged for the door.

Once everyone including the bar staff had left, sirens could be heard in the distance as no doubt the police were called to investigate the murder. A clicking of heels against wood reverberated around the now quiet nightclub as a single figure strutted in from the entrance. Clad in knee high boots, tight leggings that showed off her figure and a short sleeved top covered my a leather jacket, the girl's short, dark-blue hair colour and piercings made her look all too punky. "For me? Tsk, you didn't have to kill him, James." she spoke rather seductively as she poked Nix's body with the toe of her boot.

Nathaniel almost lost himself in the panic. The stampede of people had confused him, caught him off guard. But he stood his ground despite hordes of people crashing into his body. The sounds of sirens befuddled him even more, but then everything became clear.

James had killed Nix. It didn't take the incoming police force to discover that much. Nathaniel had to look at the body and at James to realize that much. But the words of this woman who loomed over Nix's motionless corpse confirmed it. Nathaniel felt his hard skip a beat, as he wrestled with the denial and tried to cling on the hope that she was wrong. But reality came crashing in like an uninvited guest. It was Paris all over again. Nathaniel had failed to stop another murder. This one...this one hurt more than other. He felt his chest tighten as the anxiety that had built up in Nathaniel's gut had come to fruition all too soon. He felt his breathing quicken, his eyes widen and his jaw drop. Nathaniel stood aghast in the middle of the silent club. His once meticulous mind was frozen by confusion. Cluelessness. Fear. Everything he hoped to prevent, everything that he feared happened. He wanted to believe that James was not beyond saving. That he could steer him in the right direction. That he could be the hero. That he could do what Nathaniel could not. He saw James as someone could succeed. He hoped that James had the fire that could make a difference. But most of all, he saw James as a friend. Nathaniel wanted James to learn from his mistakes.

But now, James fell. And all those hopes snapped and were swallowed up by his fears and regrets. James made the same mistake Nathaniel did. And Nathaniel knew that James would have not have the same desire for redemption that drove Nathaniel to be so resolute in his own way. He knew that James would only want more. That James' anger, his passion, would drive him further down this path and corrupt him. All the potential he had meant nothing. James was becoming someone beyond saving. He crossed a line that Nathaniel could not follow. The hopes that Nathaniel for his friend were lost. Gone. They left the world with Nix's last breath.

Nathaniel had failed. That failure echoed in his mind. That failure kept him frozen. That failure blanked his mind. His eyes remain locked forward in a glassy stare. He didn't know how to feel. What to do. He knew nothing. All he had was his fears running rampant in his mind playing out a scenario that crippled him further.

Before Nathaniel could finally find the resolve to do anything, Jacques sprinted in from the side entrance of the club. Nora had dropped him off around the back and told him to wait for the people to leave before entering. All he could think about was the hate that now consumed him as he got giddy at the thought of fighting the Iceman and killing him like he killed Joey. "Iceman, you and I have unfinished business!" he yelled out across the floor in his thick, French accent, his finger pointed directly at Nathaniel.

SV · Dec 16, 2013

James Hazen and Nora Daveiga - Club Phoenix, London, England

"Nora..." He muttered under his breath, curiously observing a girl he hadn't seen in years. He wondered what she was doing here, but more importantly, why she wasn't reacting as everyone else had. This definitely was an unexpected turn of events even James couldn't predict. "What the f*ck?" He cursed out loud.

"Nice to see you too," she responded, flicker her hair behind her ear. It had been two years since James had shown her 'all the spots tourists don't go' during her family vacation in Hawaii. Back then she didn't realise those spots lead directly to his pants, but it had definitely made the trip worth while. "So, what brings you here?" she asked him.

"Oh, you know, just grabbing a few drinks, having a night out with the boys, the usual," He answered in a relatively calm voice, motioning with his finger at Nix on the floor. The intial surprise of seeing someone from his past had worn off. It was clear on both ends there was more going on than either could see. For now, he tried to be as casual as possible given the situation of a dead man on the floor killed by his own hands, and an old flame from the past who seemed to know a lot more than he expected. "You?"

She smirked, he was still the same old James she had met back on the island, just perhaps a little more grown up. Maybe his downstairs department had grown up with him, she thought briefly before responding, "Oh you know, just here to pick up a package..." She looked him up and down, "Electricity, huh? And She said you were a special one..." Removing her jacket and tossing it at a nearby stool, Nora cracked her knuckles, "come on, big boy, show me what you got!" she challenged him.

James sucked in a deep breath, concentrating on the energy flowing in his body. He could still feel so much of his ability flowing inside, the result of him fueling up on as much energy as he could before he left the mansion. But he wanted more, and he wanted to demonstrate just how much more he could show. Sparks flew across the lights across the different assortment of electrical appliances and gadgets in the club. James began siphoning energy from all across, leaving most of the electricity in the club gone, save for enough lighting to be able to see Nora standing before him.

The promise of a fight was something he couldn't step away from, especially if it was against a potentially strong opponent. His eyes flickered toward Nix's body next to her feet. The only remorse he felt was that Nix didn't put up more of a fight before he died. Besides that, he had just killed someone and now stared at his corpse. The only rationale he needed to tell himself that his actions were alright was that he wanted him to die. That was it.

"Are you Atlantean?" He asked her, his eyes trailing back from Nix's body to Nora. Electrical energy from the room fully gathered around his body, making occasional surges from his arms and chest by the sheer amount he had inside him at the moment, which far surpasses any quantity he had in the past. Nora watched as the electricity arced around herself, pulling in towards James as it gathered in his body.

"You tell me," she said sarcastically, casting her arms wide. Around them red, blue, orange and purple etheric hazes jumped from the nearby neon signs, surging for her body in the same fashion as the electricity jumped to James'. Now only the crackling fire in the brackets served as their light source aside from Nora glowing her purplish haze and James' body crackling with energy. It had been a while since she had last fed herself with the neon energy and she couldn't help but enjoy the great feeling it gave her.

Walking backwards and closer to the dance floor, she begun to move away from Nix's dead body, trying to pull James away from the bar and it's readily accessible power sources and into the open where she believed to have the upper hand. She was exstatic to get the fight underway; having been waiting for the moment she could battle someone with electricity manipulation.

James began to pace away from the bar counter and toward the dance floor, completely oblivious of any other action going on around them. For this moment, there was only the two of them. He extended his arm outward. Lightning cackled and erupted around his hands. His nerves tingled, but he had never felt as exhilarated as he did at that moment. To hold so much power in his hands made him feel as if he was holding life and death itself. He moved his arm extended from his side and pointing it at Nora. No other words. He fired his lightning from his hand, the energy shooting at its normal quick pace.

Nora countered, flinging her own arm outwards as her purple haze struck the lightning dead on only inches from her body. The air around her sizzled and she could smell the burnt ozone which only made her slightly dizzy. Nora had been sent here inorder to get James over on to their side, something her Queen stressed, but didn't expand on. She could have her little fun with James, matching her power against his, it would only serve to interest him further. Not one to get lost in thought, Nora soon retaliated with a bolt of neon of her own; flinging it in James' direction in much the same way as he had to her. She flinched after flinger her attack as small fragments from Jacques fight interrupted hers briefly.

James widened his eyes at the incoming neon projectile. He stuck up both of his hands, summoning a large quantity of eletricity to act as a divergent to harm against his body. The electricty built up in his arms, forming from a ball of sizzling lightning and growing into a larger one. Instead of flinging this as an attack, he tried to expand the energy in front of him, creating a sort of electrical layer in front of him in the hopes of preventing the attack. The neon bolt and framents bashed onto the layer, with sparks of both energies flinging themselves across any physical surface they encountered, before both sizzled away. A portion of the neon bolt managed to pass through his layer, and James quickly tried to avoid it with a sidestep. Still, it came in faster than he anticipated, and he was targeted across his right shoulder blade.

His shoulder was forced back, and upon looking at the point of impact, he could see that it ripped through his shirt and onto his bare skin. Yet surprisingly, he could barely feel the impact's damage. He wondered if this was from the adrenaline pumping through his system. Yet as he felt the tingling coming from his hands, through his forearms and up to his shoulders, he felt that controlling so much power at once must have not been without consequences.

With the apparent brashness of a deranged psychopath, to those who would watch, it appeared as if James simply shrugged off the damage and rushed forward, grinning like a schoolkid while he did so. He placed both hands in front of his body, rushing large quantities of electricity to his arms from his body, feeling the tingle of each blade of sparks as they made their way to the end, and then fired all at once in one, massive burst of lightning.

There was absolutely no way Nora could dodge the attack. She took a couple of steps backwards, her face contorted in shock before she was blown backwards. Propelled through the air as electricity raced around her body, Nora felt like all her extremities were on the point of exploding as the pain wracked through her body. She hit one of the wooden tables, sliding off it and crumpling into the chairs. Around her the air bubbled with swaths of different colours as the electricity lit up the Neon, Argon and all the other elements that made up neon lights. Her body ached from the hard landing and her muscles spasmed as the last of the electricity left her body. She was lucky to have made it out alive. Chalking it up to being Atlantean and perhaps something to do with her ability, she gingerly pushed herself up off the ground, panting heavily and turned to James.

"Now, it's my turn to show you what real power looks like!" She cried out as around her, the multitude of glowing haze slowly solidified into a single, golden colour. As she opened her eyes, they glowed with the same golden light as the man in Paris had; her Atlantean tattoo creeping and tangling itseft down her arms and legs. Around her she drew in the last vestiges of Neon lighting left in the club, including the large sign outside before sending it as a blast in James' direction. Instead of striking him directly, it enveloped him in the eye of a neon hurricane, occasionally sending out lashes inwards to strike him. Neither Nora in her god like state nor James trapped in his Neon hurricane heard or felt what was like a flashbang going off on the dance floor beside them.

James watched in candid amazement, noticeing the strange golden glow envelop her and her tattoo travel across her body. Her own tattoo spreading caused James to momentarily touch his own tattoo on his neck, and to finally have some sort of understanding what it all meant, and what it possibly could mean in the future. But James was surprisingly upbeat. He summoned a large quantity of electricty at once, propping it up in front of him and firing, and watching it collide with the opposing energy. Naturally, it stood little chance but to delay the menacing attack from all sides, but it was enough to cushion the blow, as once it did reach him, he was forced back with perhaps less of a toll on his body.

James was hurled to the back of the dance floor, the back of his head and his back colliding with the wall and slamming himself hard on the ground. He panted heavily, and struggled to get up. Pain wasn't keeping him down. At least, he didn't think it was. He was struggling to understand the limitations of his body because a large portion of it was either numb or had the tingling sensation before numbness. But none of that concerned him now. The only thing that did was to figure out how she managed to do what she had done. "That was....amazing," He declared, earnestly impressed with the show of strength. He managed to finally stand up, and fight back any awkwardness his body momentarily experienced. He could do more.

He stuck out both of his arms to the sides of his body, draining the last bit of electicity he could find around the club. Everywhere he could find some, from the abandoned phones to the power outlets. Every drop of it poured into him, and combined with what he still saved up inside of him. Then, he released it into his arms, but instead of releasing the attack from his hands, he held the energy around in a condensed area, the sparks flying around as they struggled to break free of his grasp. He held it firmly, condensing the energy into as small a compartment as he could muster. The sparks began to fling violently, desperate for release. Then, James took a running start forward, jumped into the air, and slammed both of these condensed balls of electrical energy across the dance floor.

Sparks exploded from the condensed energy, scattering along the path James tried to send them, forcing the lightning across the metal plating of the dance floor and bouncing toward Nora in a pair.

As the electricity struck Nora, she burst into a giant purplish haze before it dispersed into the air. Along the path the electricity had come, Neon lights of varying colours travelled, moving as quickly as the charged lightning had back to it's source. As they reached James, the coloured bolts converged behind him, forming back into the punkish girl that was Nora. However her golden eyes and aura were gone, as were the tendrils of her tattoo snaking down her arms and legs. Having seen James touch his neck where is tattoo was, she gently tapped him in the same place, this time putting some or her electrified Neon into the tap.

"Good luck using your ability now," she cackled from behind him. "If you want to become powerful, come with me. Or I guess you could stay here with these weaklings; it's your choice." Nora walked around to face James as she spoke, her fingers trailing across his shoulders as she made her way. She blew him a kiss before turning her back on him and making her way past the dead body lying near the bar and towards the door that now flashed with police lights. She was not worried about the police, she could easily stop them without James' help, but she had done all she came here for. "Are you coming or not?" She cast over her shoulder back at James.

Just as she stepped away from James, he put his own hand at his tattoo, and checking his hand, wondering what she had done with him. He seemed to be having trouble using any of his own abilities, if he had any in the tank to use. The numbing sensation was prominent especially on his fingers and hands, but also across his forearms. Other parts were tingling. Pain which he didn't feel before suddenly was surfacing at a pretty abrupt rate. And after all this, she proceeds to leave as if she had done what she set out to do, and James suddenly began to realize what that was.

"Not," James replied coolly, smirking at Nora as she was leaving, and crossing his arms as he stood in place. His body began to ache, but he didn't budge. The way he figured it, Nora suggested she was here to 'pick up a package'. She could have been referring to the DJ James and Nate were here to collect. However, all she had done since she had gotten here was fight James, which led him to conclude one thing: she was here for him. "Your think simply saying you'll make me powerful will make me come with you? Yeah, I've been through that. Not going to happen. If you really want me to come with you, you've got to make me want to come."

Rolling her eyes, she began making her way back to James, her heels now clicking angrily against the floor. She hadn't said getting James to come with her was going to be hard, yet Nora felt she had put on a big enough show to at least entice him to learn what she knew. "So what, I pull my shirt down and show you my chest and you come along like a fourteen year old?" She asked him sarcastically, "What will make you want to come with me?" she responded, again sarcastically.

James continued to smirk as he walked forward across the dance floor towards Nora. A stinging sensation came from his leg, but he ignored it as he made his way right up to her until he was only a few feet away from her. "Don't give me walls, give me roads." He took another step forward, looking her straight in the eyes. "Don't give me chains, give me wings. Don't give me commands, give me suggestions." He stepped a few more paces forward, being only inches away from her. "Don't give me everything, give me anything."

Nora smiled, this was the James she knew and had met those years ago, always striving to be as much as he could. "So, is that a yes?" she asked him, knowing the answer but just clarifying it; waiting to hear it from his lips.

"As long as I have what I want, then alright."

"The world is our playground James, let's go show these weaklings just what we can do."

Legend · Dec 16, 2013

Nathaniel Calaway and Jacques Bayne- Club Phoenix, London, England

Nathaniel kept a glazed look in his eyes, his mind still attempting to make sense of everything. Thought after thought failed to process. He could only repeat the actions of the past in his head in vivid imagery and gruesome detail. He imagined what James did. The shock of electricity coursing through Nix's body as he tumbled to the ground with a thump. Then the memories of what happened in Paris when the woman shattered Nathaniel's armored foe, a man that Nathaniel only wanted to stop, maybe question and then turn him into the proper authorities. The mumers of some French voice attempted to capture Nathaniel's attention. He barely heard him, the voice hardly registering in the nearly catatonic ears of Nathaniel. "W-who are you?" he managed to say, unable to make eye contact for more than a few seconds before looking back the ground.

Jacques was furious that Nathaniel failed to even recognise him from their meeting weeks ago in London. It only served to fuel his hate for the man further as he felt his insides begin to boil. "Maybe this'll remind you!" he yelled; his body gleaming before he exploded sending metallic fragments spiraling in every direction. "You killed my friend so now, I'm going to kill you!" he screamed as he began pelting towards Nate.

No, no, no, no. Not London. London felt so long ago, a blackened memory that was better forgotten, lost in the sands of time. Yet, the sound of the explosion echoed in Nathaniel's ears, forcing Nathaniel to take a trip back in time. I killed a man that day. He attacked everyone. Endangered people. I had to do it. I had to! It was the only thing I could do! It haunted Nathaniel. But it was justified. At least that is what Nathaniel believed. Or wanted to. Ever since that day, he wanted to redeem myself. Truly seek some degree of salvation. Never did he imagine he would face the demons like this. All he could do was stand there.

Jacques was too overcome with rage to wonder just why Nate stood there frozen like a statue, running forward and planting his fist squarely into Nate's cheek. He reeled his stinging hand back, dealing another blow aimed at the same place. All he wanted to do was claw the man's face off, yet all he could do was stand there and hit Nate with every fist he could muster. The fists continue to wail on Nathaniel, until a sizable one knocked the large man to the ground. Nathaniel did not move, laid out on the floor. His arms unconsciously covered his face, but not for dulling the pain or checking the bruises. It was to cover the weakness. The blood spewed from his mouth and nose. Yes, that was one thing. But Nathaniel was preoccupied with the tears. Not of pain. Of regret. I deserve this don't I?

"Why don't you fight? You Coward!" Jacques continued to yell, this time planting a boot into Nathaniel's stomach, "You killed Joey in cold blood! Now stand up and face your death like a man you w*nker! I want to see the life leave your eyes as it did Joey's!" Again he swung his foot backwards before thrusting it into Nate's midsection.

There was no feeling from either blow. No initial response from anything said. There was nothing. In some way, whoever this man was and regardless of what he had said, Nathaniel was already dead. At least he felt that way. Without a thought, Nathaniel picked himself up, caught in a trance was he saw blood trickle down to the floor, collecting in a little pool between his boots. He looked at the revenge seeking man before him with empty lifeless eyes. "What is killing me going to accomplish? It won't bring your friend back. Sure, all that anger will be gone. And maybe you'll find some satisfaction. But then what? Nothing. You'll have nothing," Nathaniel coughed, the pain from the attacks finally hit. "Just go home. Be with your friends. Your family. Run away from this. There is more to live for than petty revenge."

"Joey was my friend, he was my family!" Jacques lashed out at Nate's face again, "You think that getting my revenge on you is all I'm living for? I'm in for the bigger picture, killing you will just set me free! Your...words...mean....nothing!" he screamed as he struck Nathaniel with his fist on each word.

Now his face began to throb with every strike. Nathaniel could feel the swelling and the blow drenching his every pore. Was he going blind in the one way? Or maybe whoever this guy was had almost closed Nathaniel's one eye shut with the flurry of fists. Instead of bothering to guard himself, the final words echoed in his ears. Do my words really mean so little? I couldn't stop Joey from killing. I couldn't stop that woman. I couldn't stop James. And I can't stop this guy. I failed each and every time because I believed I could speak reason to them. I-I-I. Joey's friend geared up for another punch, but Nathaniel caught with his left hand, before slugging him with an ice covered right straight punch, returning the favor. "If you won't listen to reason, I'll beat it into you then."

A smile formed at the corners of Jacques mouth, finally the man had woken up and decided to fight him. "You're going to have to try harder than that," he spat as his fist then eventually his arm dissolved into a cloud of smoke. With a high pitched cackle his entire body broke apart into a smoke cloud, twisting behind Nate's body before reforming in the air; Jacques body coming crashing down as his foot made contact with Nate's spine. The power of reforming his body released some sort of weird endorphine within his body as he enjoyed the rush.

Nathaniel was sent crashing into the ground, sliding against the floor into a nearby table. He felt the ache of the attack, and he wouldn't be surprised if the attack would have lasting effects on his body later. All the more reason to end the fight quickly. It seemed that the power was comparable to Joey's with the smoke tricks, as if he somehow can acquired the ability. Nathaniel only deduced that based on his earlier fascination with explosions. Antonia's training was practically rendered useless now, unless Nathaniel could lock him in place and make the smoke useless instead. Rising from the ground, he cracked his back, putting any pain aside. He took a breath and closed his eyes. In moments, the room became visibly colder. Even Nathaniel could see his breath. He drew his hands back and launched a pillar of ice at Jacques, launching the man into the far wall at a high velocity, pinning him between ice and brick.

Jacques laughed maniacally at both the pain and pleasure he drew from the sudden onslaught of ice that pummeled him backwards. Finally he was getting the fight he wanted and the fight Joey deserved. Again he broke his form into smoke, letting the pillar of ice shatter against the far wall and reappearing nearer to Nate. His wicked grin seemed to stretch from ear to ear as his body began to glow. This time his skin didn't solidify into the same metal he would later fragment, but rather it's glowing accelerated causing a loud bang to echo out over the club as it filled with a brilliant white light. When he was finished his vision was only slightly blurry, yet behind him he could see the DJ fumbling around as if he was suddenly blind.

With little time to react, Nathaniel simply braced for an impact, cover his face with his large arms and closing his eyes out of fear. The explosions from earlier had prepared Nathaniel for that much. So he expected the worse, placing a limited sheet of ice armor on his arms, legs and torso to protect him from some of the impact. However, the deafening boom was not followed by crippling pain. Instead, Nathaniel could barely see or hear. He felt woozy as he tried to recollect himself. A blurred figure stood before him. At this point, Nathaniel jumped to conclusions and charged forward. A solid ice covered kick was delivered at the center of the target. It was time to test out a few of Antonia's tricks.

Jacques felt a flash burn across his stomach as the ice kick connected, causing him to stumble backwards and grip his stomach tightly. He scrunched his eyes up in pain as it felt like even his insides were beginning to freeze solid. As much as he thought he knew what he was getting into in this fight, he wasn't ready for this despite knowing his opponent and having the extra abilities. In retaliation, he aimed his palm in the general direction of Nathaniel, focusing on it as he cast a massive blast of hot smoke Nathaniel's way.

The blast of hot smoke further blinded Nathaniel and he felt his skin burn. The pain was almost too much for Nathaniel to handle and he felt himself collapse to the ground, knee first as he struggled to breathe. He rolled away from Jacques, distancing himself from the smoke as much as he physically could. In a few brief moments, Nathaniel cleared his lungs of the smoke. The attack practically confirmed he was fighting Joey again. The explosions and flash bangs were his 'other' abilities. Somehow he gained new ones. That would be something to report. Also, whoever this guy was, he studied Nathaniel. He had counters. Tactics. But Nathaniel had one trick. He fought Joey before. He killed him. "HAYDEN STAY DOWN!" Nathaniel roared, trying to keep the DJ safe. Seconds later, Nathaniel sent a wave of ice spears at Jacques. Trying to do his best to avoid vital organs, Nathaniel aimed for his arms and legs, hoping to pin him against the nearest wall.

And pin him they did. Jacques felt the excruciating pain as the cold ice struck straight through his left shoulder, both palms, and right thigh. He screamed torturous screams as the pain inhibited him from using any one of his abilities. He could do nothing but be pinned to the wall as his body felt like it was freezing over and on fire at the same time. He screamed, he cried, all dignity was lost but nothing felt greater than the pain he was in; the same pain Joey experienced before he was brutally murdered by the Iceman.

"Try not to move," Nathaniel advised, before limping over to the DJ. "You okay?" he asked. Hayden only nodded as Nathaniel picked him up from the ground, making sure he had his footing. Hayden's face twisted in disgust at Nathaniel's own, trying to ignore the bruises, swollen welts and blood pouring from Nathaniel's buffet of wounds.

"What about him?" Hayden motioned to the newest wall decoration, being furthered grossed out by the display of Nathaniel's powers.

"The cops will come shortly. They will help him out. Now let's get out of here. I can get you to safety. You just need to follow me and stay close," Nathaniel urged Hayden. Nathaniel struggled to walk but Hayden lead them out the back entrance into alley way. Nathaniel pulled out his cell phone and shuffled through the numbers he had. Most of the numbers would be useless to call in this situation. It wasn't everyday that an Atlantean ices over a club and could be charged with attempted murder. "There. Hayden. Keep a look out." The phone rang a few times with Nathaniel fidgeting with anxiety and wincing at his wounds.

"Hey Antonia. We, uh, kind of bumped into trouble."

With Nate and James parting ways, Jacques was left screaming as he stayed pinned to the wall with a dead body by the bar. He stopped screaming when he noticed the body spontaneously combust into a conflagration of brightly lit flames before dying out just as quickly. Left in it's wake was a pile of ashes that seemed to settle gently into a small pile. Jacques continued to watch this weird pyrotechnics trick as a wind seemed to catch all the ashes, throwing them up in the air before they all condensed together to form a solid human figure. After a couple of seconds that seemed to take minutes, the form finally grew skin and a naked Nix was left standing where his dead body had been. He coughed a few times as small dust particles left his mouth, but he was otherwise unharmed.

Grabbing a shirt and an apron from overtop the counter he rushed out the back of the building, passed Jacques who had now started screaming again. "Shut up," was all he said as he passed the pinned Atlantean.

"Asian Dude?! Iceman?! Nora?! Raguiel?! You can't leave me here!" Jacques screamed as Nix left the building.

Nix wasn't particularly happy James had killed him, much less that his ability kicked in. But for now he didn't want to get tangled up with the authorities. Rounding the corner he soon saw Nate calling someone on his cellphone while the DJ Nate had managed to recruit idled behind him; a bag slung over his shoulder.

"Nate, wait!" Nix cried out as he made his way up to the tall man. He understood how crazed he looked right now, but his clothes had been burnt to ashes the moment his body went up in flames.

"I'll call you back..."

[Other FULL] Λtlantis Λwakening [IC] [M]

Butcher of the Sands

Curtis Morwood – London, England

Veteran Roleplayer

Thayne Clark, Julian Morales, & Dominique Bisset - AUP Hospital Wing, Toulouse, France

Not a beginner that's for sure

Butcher of the Sands

Justin Evans – Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England

Kingslayer

James Hazen and Nathaniel Calaway - Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England

Imogen Green and Atticus Forsberg - AUP Headquarters, Toulouse, France

Veteran Roleplayer

Thayne Clark, Delta Mayor, and Dominique Bisset

See You Space Cowboy

James Hazen and Katerina Lukyanenko - Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England

Kingslayer

Nathaniel Calaway and Antonia Costa- Atlantean Royal Family Mansion, Boston, England

See You Space Cowboy

James Hazen - Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England

Butcher of the Sands

Wyatt Cale – Syndicate HQ, Birmingham, England

Kingslayer

Nathaniel Calaway- Atlantean Royal Family Mansion, Boston, England

Imogen Green and Atticus Forsberg - AUP Headquarters, Toulouse, France

Butcher of the Sands

Leo Cabrillo – Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England

Kingslayer

James Hazen and Nathaniel Calaway - Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England

ooh...Cake!

Charlotte Hunter and Kieran Davis - Atlantean Royal Mansion, Boston, England

Kingslayer

James Hazen, Nathaniel Calaway and Nix Bai- On the job, England

See You Space Cowboy

James Hazen and Nora Daveiga - Club Phoenix, London, England

Kingslayer

Nathaniel Calaway and Jacques Bayne- Club Phoenix, London, England