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  #51    
Old December 12th, 2011 (09:53 AM). Edited December 12th, 2011 by Raikiri.
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Christian Calaway- London, England
-----------------------------

“Stay the hell away from my sister, you almost killed her!”

It would make sense that the one time Christian tried to be friendly and even kind hearted that he would be immediately criticized. Sure, he did almost kill a girl, but it was a mistake. Oakley became a threat and Christian responded naturally. It was Michael's fault for not stepping in. If he disliked Christian's methods that much, he would avoided the problem in the first place. Christian glared down at Michael, as the smaller man attempted to place a hand on Christian's intangible chest. Over time, as Christian calmed down (the mental process of making Oakley's outburst Michael's fault did help) his body became tangible. However, Michael still stood before him, erupting with anger, though it was almost obvious he was holding back. Michael's body was tense, his eyes burning with unrivaled intensity. Christian was ready to fire back, almost hoping for a fight if it was going to prove his point. Christian acted in a just manner, while this "brotherly" figure stood back and watched idly.

Christian raised his arm and tightened his face into a dense fist, ready to plow this little bi--

“That is enough! We are not here to fight or make enemies, so keep quiet and stand still.”

A beautiful figure separated Michael and Christian with ease and grace. It was River and she was not happy. She glared at both Christian and Michael, both quickly rubbed him off for the time being, focusing her attention to Oakley. Christian had almost forgot about her at this time, being too preoccupied with his analysis of Michael trying to deduce who was at fault. River did some subtle magic trick that seemed to control, or at least subdue Oakley's power. The arm shrunk to normal size and the armored layer of skin dissipated. Upon closer analysis, it appeared it was some crystal that appeared to do it, but Christian couldn't make sense of it.

River spoke again : "Now that we have had enough drama for today, let’s finish this.” River pointed to the older lady and her younger male friend, “You two may go through the door only my left behind us, there you will finish processing and sent back to your families.” She gestured to the others, “You four will be coming with me though the other door behind me. Quickly now, and no drama,” she warned before briskly turning around and walking through.

Christian appeared to lobbed together with the group coming with River, despite not displaying full commitment to her cause. River and the others went through the door as she instructed. Christian remained in the center of room as everyone else left. In pure, uninterrupted silence, Christian stared at the ruins of the once solid wall. He mused over River's words.

"Our only motive is to help our fellow Atlanteans"

"given your Atlantean identity"

"Free into a world"

"No rights"

"Better control over their respective abilities"

"Your choice."


The words jumbled together, because of a chaotic mess of information. What was he supposed to do? What was the right choice to make?

He had a life. He had control. And most importantly, he had goals. Ever since he left the comfort of his home, he wanted to change the world. Being naive, he was originally idealistic in this crusade but as time passed he became more of a realist. He understood what he had to do change the world: Become a person with authority and power. Unlike those in the established order, he would be morally conscious and upheld a strict code to do so. He would not become a corrupt politician. He would tell the truth and live a strict lifestyle. He would be his own man. That was the goal.

And now this.

He stood in a room with a choice. He glanced at the rubble again. Christian recognized it was fault that the once solid wall was a crumbled, pathetic shell of itself. It became nothing more than crumbs to a regular person, something to be repaired or replaced. But to Christian, it was much more. It was a symbol of the lie he was living for the past week. Christian was telling himself time and time again he was in control of this minor inconvenience. He would learn to control it and put his life back on track. On top of this, he was ordered to work for a politician, who in his mind, were always nothing more than puppets serving corrupt business in some elaborate conspiracy to fill the pockets of the rich.

Christian's body grew tense, until the tension reached its breaking point. Christian roared like an untamed beast and turned the nearest wall. Losing control of himself, he exploded with frustration. Christian punched the solid wall nearest to him. The pain of punching the wall was great, and his fist was clearly bleeding. The pain woke him up though. He chuckled lightly to himself, before actually laughing.

"Guess, I really don't have control."

Christian retracted his slightly bloodied fist, surprised it wasn't broken. He half expected his fist to evaporate into smoke. It would be that, or the wall would resemble its crumbled brethren. It didn't. Any notion he had control disappeared, much like his did on that day one week ago. He swallowed his pride. As much as he valued his freedom and his goals, he would become a hypocrite if he committed to that. He would be lying to himself and over time, it would consume him. By becoming loyal to River and the Royal Family, he would be serving a noble cause. Protecting himself. Protecting the Atlanteans. Protecting society. It was a noble cause.

Christian smiled weakly to himself. He regathered himself and walked through the door that River motioned to moments ago before she and the others left. Christian walked through the now lonely hallway with great haste, knowing he was delaying them from reaching their objective. The hallway lead to a helicopter resting in a courtyard. Christian's shock at the sight was minimal, as he had no time to experience such emotions. He squeezed himself into the tight helicopter, taking the only available seat between two chatty women. They were running their mouths on topics he shared no interest in. Clothes, makeup, boys. There were more important topics than those and they had to talk about such useless things. He hoped the flight would be a short one.

River slammed the door behind Christian and signaled the pilot to leave. She put a headset on and ordered the others to do so. Christian did so, unintentionally revealing his bloodied hand.

“We are taking you to a secure location, about half an hour away, please stay seated and belted in until we land.” Her voice cut off and she stared out the window, the other girls beside Christian blasting away at each other with chatter of idiocy.

It was going to be a long flight.
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  #52    
Old December 13th, 2011 (12:56 AM).
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Jeremy Kyle – Birmingham, England

Jeremy barely had time to respond to Leon before a figure emerged from behind him, coming to a standstill next to Jeremy. Although they had on met a few times, Jeremy knew instantly who this man was, and his heart began racing as he remembered the other times he had come face to face with the man, most if not all very unpleasant. A very impressionable man who stood at well over six foot, the Directive was one of the higher members of The Syndicate, and was one of the very few that actually conferred with the lower members. The black suit and shirt beneath accompanied by the silver tie, tinted glasses and black hair against his pale skin made the man seem like death incarnate. When he spoke, his voice was soft yet deep which often sent shivers up Jeremy’s spine; he was the kind of man who could snap your neck and not look bothered by it. All in all, he scared Jeremy, enough that he would stay silent.

“Mr. Nef, swearing and cursing at your colleague is going to get you nowhere and as for money, you will be compensated.” He took his glasses off, revealing hazel eyes that seemed somewhat out of place with his general appearance, but continued to stand, “as for killing those people, we needed to confirm your degree of loyalty. Unlike Mr. Kyle here, you are a greater asset for your ability to kill for no reason, you could progress quickly for our ranks.” He took a moment to let that sink in.

Taking a breath, he continued, “We collectively are glad that you killed those people, for if you had not, they would have gone on to kill more people.” Gazing at Leon, he began to look more serious, the room seemed to darken and Jeremy stiffened; he knew instantly that the directive was using his ability.

The room around them changed with scenes, scenes of war and chaos, death and destruction, scenes of events that were yet to happen, “There are three groups of Atlanteans out there. The first is the Atlantean Royal Family; elitist and manipulative, they select few people from the rest of our race they believe to be more powerful and better than the rest to create and elite group of Atlanteans. The second is the Atlantean Unification Project; they take all the scraps that the Royal Family throw away and any Atlantean willing to join their cause. Their ultimate desire is to create an indestructible army of Atlanteans.”

“What about The Syndicate?” Jeremy asked impatiently.

“We work behind the scenes, guiding the rest of humanity and Atlantean kind to follow a path set out in front of us. We are the only ones who can stop the others from achieving their plans and ruining the world.” The scenes around them changed to a future where The Synidicate had achieved their path; humans and Atlanteans co existing peacefully, the world in a much better state.

The room lightened up again as the Directive cancelled his ability, replacing his glasses. “Anymore questions before we proceed, Mr. Nef?”
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  #53    
Old December 15th, 2011 (11:46 PM).
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Leon Nef-Syndicate Hospital

Jeremy looked like he was going to say something, but he never got a chance. Behind him a man walked in. He was more or less the same height as Leon, as far as he could tell, with a black suit and silver tie. From the look on Jeremy's face, he was someone not to cross, or someone very unpleasant.

What fun.

“Mr. Nef, swearing and cursing at your colleague is going to get you nowhere and as for money, you will be compensated.” As he said this, he took off his eyes. Leon wanted to demand what the hell he was thinking sending him to kill four people, but he assumed his questions may very well be answered anyways.

“as for killing those people, we needed to confirm your degree of loyalty. Unlike Mr. Kyle here, you are a greater asset for your ability to kill for no reason, you could progress quickly for our ranks.”

For no reason? The words hung in Leon's ears. He had never really thought of himself in that way. Was that all he was? A killer without a purpose or drive? No, Leon couldn't accept that. Not for now. Who the hell was this man saying who he was and wasn't anyways?

For now though, he remained silent, and let the man continue to speak.

“We collectively are glad that you killed those people, for if you had not, they would have gone on to kill more people.”

Well there was some justification right there. He knew it wasn't for nothing. He had silenced people who in turn would have killed many more. This made Leon a bit more relaxed now.

Just then, the room began to darken. Projections of what the man spoke. Leon watched in silence, a bit intrigued by the man's ability.

“There are three groups of Atlanteans out there. The first is the Atlantean Royal Family; elitist and manipulative, they select few people from the rest of our race they believe to be more powerful and better than the rest to create and elite group of Atlanteans. The second is the Atlantean Unification Project; they take all the scraps that the Royal Family throw away and any Atlantean willing to join their cause. Their ultimate desire is to create an indestructible army of Atlanteans.”

When he finished, he heard Jeremy chime in asking what the Syndicate's purpose in all of that was.

His answer was more or less acceptable to Leon. However, he never expected himself to join in for such a cause. He was never the type of man to take political manners, especially those like this, to seriously. He was a petty criminal before. But with these powers, he had a chance to be something more. What exactly that was, he didn't know, all he knew was he would be getting payed quite a lot for it, and perhaps for a cause that was well worth the risk. Perhaps. Leon finally broke his silence.

"I do have a few questions. First of all, will I be getting payed extra for taking out Atlanteans? I mean, come on! I just found out about my abilities themselves, and I hardly was able to use them, and you send me in to take out four of them! Damn it, if I wasn't so tired right now, I'd punch you square in the nose!"

He had to get that out of his system. Seeming to calm down a bit, he spoke in a more relaxed voice. "Alright, I'm ready to move on, I guess, but you have to give me a bit more heads up when you send me on those missions, a$$ hole. At least so I can prepare accordingly."
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  #54    
Old December 17th, 2011 (02:47 AM). Edited December 17th, 2011 by Swolligator.
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Jeremy Kyle - Birmingham, England

Jeremy kept to himself around the Directive, he had been in situations where the man had gone from nice to mean in a matter of seconds, and the things that he had seen still tortured his dreams to this day. He desperately wanted to warn Leon against making this man angry, but the Directives presence made Jeremy shrink away and he tried has hard as he could to be "invisible" and with him there, Jeremy did not feel safe nor comfortable warning Leon. Jeremy would agree that before he had been confronted with the Directive, he was a different man.

Just over a year ago, Jeremy had been a hot-headed, angst ridden teenage boy fending of bullies and trying to get his homework in on time. He was just one of the hundreds students that walked the halls of Toronto High School hanging with friends and racing from class to class. The most important thing on his agenda was impressing a high school crush in his final year, generally goofing around in order to gain her attention. This went on for many months, and like a movie, it all slowly built up to a climax.

It was two weeks until the end of term, summer was well and truly in season and Jeremy's class was out for Physical Education. For weeks now, Jeremy had been calming his nerves, putting himself into the mindset, and planning carefully his final act; the icing on the cake that would win the girl he was attracted to, Emily, over. When the chance opened, he slipped beneath the teacher's watchful gaze and made his way into the control room that over looked the stadium they were taking PE in. Within a minute he had the PA system on, and began to let loose his feelings, announcing to the world his love for Emily.

Minutes passed and Jeremy was eventually hauled off to the Principal's office; the soft red imprint of lips resting on his cheek. With a goofy look on his face, he waltzed into the Principal's office, and lunging on a chair, explained in detail his feelings for Emily. When the Principal turned around in his chair, Jeremy was shocked to not find his Principal, but a man he would come to know as the Directive. Jeremy thought the man strange in his mono coloured outfit, insulting the man for it. When the Directive took off his glasses, the room seemed to darken and Jeremy was rooted to the spot. Around him, ghostly images like move clips played as he was finally introduced to his heritage. Jeremy learnt about the first Atlanteans; their immortality, their abilities and their downfall. In a matter of minutes he saw the entire history of the Atlantean Race up to the current point in time.

Moved by this, he asked the Directive if he could see Emily's future. All to willing to help, the Directive showed Jeremy the future he wanted Jeremy to see. Jeremy watched as nearly every encounter with her he was shown, he caused her massive amounts of physical, emotion and mental pain, all culminating in a singular outcome; Emily dying in his arms through a fault of his own. Distraught and scared by what he had seen, Jeremy accepted the offer the Directive made; come work with him, and Emily would live a happy life.

And now as Jeremy sat on the sidelines watching the conversation between Leon and the Directive, he was taken back to that specific memory, and realised that Leon was making a very similar mistake that he himself had made.

Angry at Leon's aggressive behaviour and swearing, the Directive took a step forward, striking Leon across the face with the back of his hand, hard enough to make a large imprint on his face. "Do not," he stressed the 'not', "speak to me like that, I am your superior and you will treat me as so! As I said, you WILL be compensated accordingly for your effort, but if you continue to act like an arrogant fool, then you won't be shown the respect you deserve!" Jeremy could tell that the Directive was fuming now, and he yelped quietly as the room darkened.

Ghostly images played around them, fears dreamt up from the subconscious of the mind that struck fear in almost anyone. Unimaginable horrors lurked in shadows and rose up around them. They felt so real that Jeremy silently freaked out as one passed by him making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge.

"Do not cross me," the Directive spoke menacingly, "...ever!" The ghostly images slowly receded as the Directive put his glasses back on and took a more calmer stance. "You will be notified when you need to be on any mission we wish for you to part-take. You may leave any time you wish...the only catch is that it would be in a wooden box." Clearing his throat, the Directive took a quick glance back at Jeremy before addressing Leon again. "Now, if you have any actual questions, ask them now."


Michael Cale – Not so far from London, England

The helicopter ride was anything but pleasant; they were thrown about as they seemed to hit every pocket of turbulence. Despite the seatbelts that seemed to cross over his body like chicken wire, he still felt thrown around and around. He could not talk privately to Oakley, the roar of the helicopter blades made conversation without the headset nearly impossible while the headset channel was filled with the useless gossip of the two girls sitting on either side of Christian. Michael smiled briefly as he figured they must be annoying him, it almost seemed like Karma which made Michael feel that little bit better. So for the entire trip, he sat silently beside the girl who was his sister, a sort of awkward silence between the two kept them apart. Looking out the window, he noticed the cityscape begin to give way to suburbs which later opened up to fields of green pasture. It seemed like they were taking them far from the city, and by his guess, it was somewhere north of London. The furthest Michael had been north was up to Edinburgh for a trip with his university friends, the ones he had just left. Thinking about his friends caused an ache inside of him, they were the closest thing he had to a family, until Oakley walked back into his life, and he left them without saying anything.

Looking out the window, he cast his eyes to the North-West, hoping to see a glimpse of Lancaster, the place he called home, but the ever present grey clouds hung high in the sky, obscuring most of the view of the horizon. Letting out a huff of air, he switched on his headset, and still gazing out the window asked, "So, where are we going?", his voice carrying over that of the girls who once they heard his question, quickly quietened to hear the answer.

Looking across at him, River began speaking despite Michael's lack of focus on her, annoying her slightly. "We are heading to a settlement a couple of meters south of Boston-"

Before she could finish, one of the girls interrupted her, "you mean like in America? That is ages away!" she whined in her eastern coast American accent.

Rolling her eyes, the other girl reached over and flicked her, "No you dumb b*tch, why would we go to America by helicopter? Idiota!" Michael wasn't sure, but he assumed that the girl was calling the American an 'idiot' in Italian.

"Speak better English, amigo." she retorted badly, poking her tongue out at the Italian girl.

The Italian girl was now fuming, Michael was sure he could hear her grinding her teeth in frustration over the headset. Calling an Italian a Spaniard was most probably the ultimate insult, and ultimate mistake that the American could have made.

"I am not your friend, amiCo," she stressed the 'C' sound, "nor am I Spanish you American swine. I suggest you go back to school and learn your native language properly, before even thinking of opening that massive hole you have called a mouth!" she spat down the microphone, her voice getting louder every minute.

"Both of you, be quiet!" River roared over the headset, her voice ringing in Michael's ears, but it was enough to get the two to quit their senseless bickering. "We are perhaps twenty minutes from our destination, so sit there, shut up and-" River was cut short as the helicopter suddenly lurched to the right and began declining on a sidewards angle to the ground below.

Grabbing onto Oakley, Michael wrapped himself around her as much as the seatbelt would let him, he was adamant that he would protect the littler sister he had lost. Despite her having a near indestructible armour, he took this chance to be a real big brother. Another bump rocketed the helicopter as something bright flashed outside of the window. Michael was momentarily blinded before he regained sight and saw the door to the helicopter come away, the wind trying to rip them from their seats. He could barely see River frantically trying to wrestle with the controls behind him and focussed on holding his sister tightly.

As the helicopter fell to the ground, Michael was thrown around, bumping into so many sharp objects that he could feel small trickles of blood crawling down his arms, legs and face. One violent bump jarred is elbow as it made contact with the side of the hatch, causing his to cry out in pain. He felt something sharp cut him on the side and a very faint rip as his seatbelt ripped apart. Unable to hold onto Oakley, Michael was the first to be whipped out of the helicopter. Having never skydived before, he knew nothing about maintaining his velocity and plummeted to the ground below.

At one point as he tumbled through the air, he caught a glimpse upwards at the flaming helicopter spinning out of control and at first saw three, then later five bodies fall through the air behind him. He closed his eyes, whispering his final goodbyes to all his friends, as well as to his sister in the air above him. He waited for the impact with the solid ground below that would end his life as the tears from his eyes flew upwards, descending slower than he was.
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Old December 17th, 2011 (05:48 AM).
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Nikolai Afon - North of Moscow

Natalia quickly spun around and half raised her gun, then realizing it was him, lowered her weapon again. "I thold you to stay in the car!" She shouted. She sighed, and calmed down after a moment, then answered Nikolai's question. "Yes. I knew two of the men here. We were friends." sighed again, then continued. "Now is not the time to be sad. We have to get moving before they send reinforcements or come to make sure the job is done. Let's go."

They walked quickly back to the car, taking care not to disturb the bodies in the snow. Nikolai swund the passenger door open, then climbed in. Only seconds after they got in, Natalia's phone rang again. As she talked, she swung the car in a tight u-turn, and headed back out of the woods in the direction they came, back towards Moscow. Nikolai tried to ignore Natalia talking, he though it would be rude to eavedrop. But his power made it difficult. Maybe he could feel the radio waves transmitting the signal or something, but even though it was not on speakerphone, Nikolai could faintly hear the other person talking. It was hard though, and he only caught small bits and pieces. Maybe he could explore this more in the future.

After about a minute or two of talking, Natali hung up and looked over at Nikolai, and asked him an unexpected quesiton. "Can you speak German?"

Nikolai smiled. He had taken some German in school, as well as English. He couldn't speak German fluently, but he knew enough to get by. "Ich habe immer gerne lange reisen."
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  #56    
Old December 17th, 2011 (09:29 PM).
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It was justified
 
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Leon Nef- Syndicate Hospital

Leon sat in the bed as the man known as the Directive approached him. Next, the man struck Leon with the back of his hand right on his face. Leon, not expecting the blow, took its full force. Next, the man spoke.

"Do not speak to me like that, I am your superior and you will treat me as so! As I said, you WILL be compensated accordingly for your effort, but if you continue to act like an arrogant fool, then you won't be shown the respect you deserve!"

Facing away from the man as he spoke, Leon held his hand at his face where the man hit him, and muttered quietly to himself. "You're angry..." He said softly. He then thought to himself. Good. Leon had always like to get people mad. He absolutely loved it. But what he loved even more was when people tried to make a move on him because they were angry. It was even better. He would feel like he won. What he won, even he didn't know, perhaps the other person's pride, or something else. Whatever it was, it felt damn good. Leon smiled slightly.

As the man spoke, his works echoed in the fear of the room as it darkened. Leon was legitimately nervous, almost scared even, but if he would show it, he would lose any feeling of respect he had for himself. Leon chose to remain neutral for now.

"Do not cross me..ever!" He said, the images fading away now.

"You will be notified when you need to be on any mission we wish for you to part-take. You may leave any time you wish...the only catch is that it would be in a wooden box. Now, if you have any actual questions, ask them now."

Leon was silent for a bit before he sighed and spoke, a hint of defeat in his voice.

"Fine, fine, I get it, no crossing you...you didn't have to hit that damn hard, though..." He said, trying not to smile as he maintained his neutral face. "No questions, though. I pretty much got the gist of what's going to be happening here."

Yes, Leon understood. He also understood that what he started here, he can't finish, at least for now. Whoever these people are and what they really do he's sure he'll find out eventually. No use asking them about any of it. He'll fall in line for now, but he won't back down forever.
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  #57    
Old December 18th, 2011 (03:17 PM). Edited January 26th, 2012 by Skymin.
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Oakley North – Not so far from London, England

The helicopter ride seemed long and painful, though Oakley was barely conscious for any of it. Her mind was somewhere else, her body still in shock, unsure of what to do next. She wasn't listening, but she could hear the others talking through their headsets about something. She didn't look but she could see Michael's eyes on her briefly before looking away. She did not think but she had no idea what to do now. Everything seemed a haze and Oakley just wished it was a dream and it would all go away soon. She would wake up in her dorm and continue on with her daily classes. She loved her brother and missed him very much but everything seemed simpler without him. He was the smudge in her clean routine. He either had to fit himself in or write himself out. 

There was a lurch and Oakley felt arms press around her. She didn't gasp, she didn't react, only widening her eyes at her brother's touch. She could smell him, despite the misfortune that was currently building up around him. 

He smelt like home. She couldn't leave him now, but that wasn't up to her to decide. 

His fingers were torn away from her as his seatbelt was torn apart and he was pulled away from her by the strong winds. She cried out, but her screams were stolen by the winds as well. They were taking everything, pulling the helicopter apart and ripping everything to shreds until finally, it ripped her belt too and Oakley went flying, body like a rag doll, out of the helicopter. 

She could see the ground and she could see her looming death but what worried her most was that she couldn't see her brother. Her mind was back in her body and with that, the searing pain returned to her arm. Her body knew she was going to die, pumping herself full of adrenaline, her heart beating faster and the armour reacting instantly. She screamed in pain but the wind silenced her, forcing her to feel the agony without her voice to distract her. It was halfway up her arm now and she hadn't even had enough time to delude herself into thinking it was okay. 

Finally, her eyes caught sight of a limp body, one that seemed hopeless and defeated. It was Michael and he knew as well as Oakley did that they were going to die. But what if they could change that? What if she could change that? She had been though all of this in the past week, only to realise there was nothing beyond this but a painful death? No, she couldn't allow that. She couldn't allow death to come in, toy with her life, only to kill her as she grew used to it. She screamed as much as she could, the wind only letting her say one word. 

"Michael!!"

Oakley dived towards him, the armour ripping up her arm and her arm now four times the size it usually was. Surely this armour could be used for something. Surely it could be used to save a life. She reached forward with her right arm, her fingers lightly grasping Michael's shirt as her shirt started to rip, the armour growing across her torso. Finally she grabbed him, her extra weight granting her extra speed and she gripped him tight, ignoring the ungodly pain that was now searing to her left side. 

"I'm sorry."

The armor was now on her left arm, her legs and head the only human thing about her. She felt the air grow thicker as the ground came into view. Pulling Michael closer, but holding him as if he was as fragile as glass, Oakley spun herself around with her back towards the ground, embracing what was to come. The armour had now covered her knees but she did not try to fight it like she usually did. Instead, she waited for death to take her away, to free her of her painful curse. To save her. 

"I'm sorry."


Natalia Zaytsev - Heading west from Moscow, Russia

"Gut. Weil wir für eine Weile unterwegs sein," Natalia smiled back at Afon. His accent was rough with the German tied into it, it was easy to see he wasn't fluent with the language. That didn't matter all that much. They weren't going there for an extended holiday. "It's not a big deal, it'll just be an advantage."

Her phone buzzed again and Natalia reached forward and answered it.

"Zaytsev."

"Hey, Natalia, it's Annie again," Annie didn't bother stopping for a breath or a hello, quickly continuing on. "Camilla isn't responding. Her phone's GPS is still active, so we can still see her but she's delayed and going to be late." There was a rustle of papers, Annie obviously looking for something. Natalia stayed silent, waiting for Annie to do what she needed to do. She was a busy girl, constantly making and taking calls for the AUP. A valuable member indeed. "So don't bother meeting her in Germany, just head straight here. I'll send someone for you."

"Will do. Thanks Annie."

"No problemo," a click signalled the end of the call and Natalia sighed. Another change in plan. At least they were slightly ahead of time, though it didn't matter if they were earlier than yesterday, if people were dead they werent going to make it anywhere.

"So, another plan change. We're heading to..." Natalia stopped, then smiled. No, she would let Afon figure this out. She hadn't seen his power close up yet and it was interesting. Why else would he have been picked? "No, you tell me where we are going. See if you can figure it out." She smiled quite wily, taking a glance at Afon every so often. The AUP were usually rather pendantic with security but surely with Afon and his power, he could find a hole to climb through.
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  #58    
Old December 18th, 2011 (09:16 PM).
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Location: New York
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Nature: Brave
Christian Calaway- Not so far from London, England
------------------------------
Christian only rode in a helicopter once in his life before this moment. His father took him on a tour on his 10th birthday around New York City. There was a lot of developing tension in the Calaway household as Christian grew older and more outspoken. His father wanted to get Christian away from his mother, school work and the whole socialite atmosphere. Quality time with his son was the answer and a brilliant answer it was. The sights, the sounds, everything that New York City had to offer was seen from a new perspective. It was only then he had witnessed the "city that never sleeps" and it was only then he had realized how the big world really was. It was pleasant, serene and beautiful. The modern jungle that was New York became nothing more than something that could fit in the palm of his hand. The buzzing of the helicopter was drowned out by the amazement of this one in a lifetime event. This eye opening experience was one of a kind and a moment he will never forget. In fact, Christian credits as it one of this fondest memories and the one of the moments that spoke to his desire to maintain the world's beauty with his own leadership.

This ride was not memorable. At all. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Michael's sly smirk was only proof of this sad epiphany. If this was a dream, Christian wanted to wake up. Instead, he was forced to sit in a confined space. Arms crossed, eyes closed, face tense, body rigid.

Placing Christian between blabbering idiots would be the equivalent to water boarding a solider for information, in that it causes intense pain and simulates the experiencing of drowning. The only difference that instead of his body feeling the brunt of his punishment, it was his mind. His insanity was being torn apart; his brain felt like it was being crushed; his instinct was demanding he evacuate the plane immediately and crash into to the Earth below like a meteorite escaping from his brothers trapped in the vastness of space seeking a home. At least then the pain would stop.

Perhaps this is all an elaborate exaggeration that displays the evacuating insanity of once an excellent mind. In that respect you would be correct. The underlying point was that Christian was feeling intense pain being surrounding two women who were having the most senseless conversation known to man. The conversation was so depraved of intelligence that Christian could not follow it. The last coherent thought was River attempting to describe their location and estimated time of arrival. At least that is what Christian deduced she wanted to complete a thought along those lines until a girl blurted out some thought about Boston being in America and being far away. Now at least she was intelligent enough to know that Boston, United State was far away. This at least implied the ability to pass a Geography lesson. However, the fact they were in England should of been a hint. Her accent reminded him of those women on that one show…Jersey Lore….Jersey Snore…Jersey *****…well she probably was one…..Meh. Christian didn't care. The show sucked and he understood the premise. She was an idiot. The other girl showed signs of intelligence, being more than capable of counterattacking the idiocy of her counterpart.

Christian was more interested in River's intel. What did she know about all of them? What did she want? Why did she pick them and insist to personally escort them to this facility? What was her deeper motives? He had committed himself to joining River at the time, believing her cause to be just though he had little choice. He had little control over his powers and he needed the help. This much as a given. However, giving her his complete trust…that was too much ask for. Her answers were vague, as if they had be rehearsed. Christian wanted to know more. Much more. He was going to find out. Somehow.

Then, in a single moment, Christian's entire equilibrium was thrown off. Quite literally in fact. Buckled in, Christian did not immediately realize that the helicopter beginning to decline in altitude while tilting to the right. River's estimate of twenty minutes till arrival to Boston became twenty seconds till crashing with the dirt. Michael was playing hero and attempting to save Oakley. Admirable? Yes. Foolish? More so. Oakley's power was armor. That would protect her from the fall. Michael was tossed around like a rag doll with cuts and bruises becoming a new brand of makeup. The torment did not last long before his thrown out of the helicopter. Christian wasn't aware he was a fan of skydiving. Oakley followed suit, dove out, presumably to save her brother.

Christian, as much as he disliked the siblings, was moved by their actions. That and logic proved that remaining in the helicopter was probably not a great idea. He had an idea. A bad one he would readily admit but it was better than knocking on death's door.

"Both of you! Unbuckle your seat belts!" Christian ordered the two girls at his sides.

"But-"

"No time for your idiotic remarks! If you want a chance to live you will listen to what I say! Unbuckle your seat belts and hang on to me!"

The girls were hesitant, standing idly by. Christian grunted to himself and dared to take the lead. He unbuckled himself, and helped the two girls to do so. Forcing them to grab on to his arms, Christian kicked of the side of the interior and launched himself out of the metal deathtrap. It was without the risks, as he experienced the shame sensation as Michael, having several pieces cut him all over his body.

That and the prospect of now spiraling to the ground. Christian attempted to keep a cool head as the figures on the ground became more clear, as if an artist was inking in the details on a piece of art. Christian could imagine the girls become frantic beasts, screaming for their dear lives. Christian drowned out the screams with concentration. His power was the only chance they had…if it worked.

Well, something worked.

Christian, in a not so strange twist of fate, became the intangible smoke outline of his physical body. As he expected, he was flying like a smoke cloud. The girls…were not. In fact, they were doing the opposite….crashing towards the ground with screams piercing enough to deafen a man.

"Crap, crap. crap. Think, Christian, think!" Christian slapped his smoke-like face, experiencing the sensation of his smoke like hand phasing through his body. Nothing was coming to mind. He had no idea what to do. The only thing that came to mind to was to continue hurdling towards the ground and turn to smoke at the last second, making the fall far less painful, if at all.

That isn't what a hero would do. That isn't something a man could do. He couldn't live with himself if let all the people here die without trying to do something. Concentrating, he turned back to a solid state and experienced once again the horror of sky diving. Streamlining his form, Christian dove back down, catching back up to the talkative girls. He locked arms with them, unifying their descent, before pulling up to make their bodies parallel to the ground. This would slow the fall and give Christian more time to think of plan. He did not speak to women. He did not want to worry them more than they already word. He hoped his confident expression would be enough.

Now was the process of Christian listing off a number of possibilities to save them. He had guessed he had a minute or too before impact. Let's see which plan would be the winner.
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Old December 21st, 2011 (02:54 AM).
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Join Date: Sep 2009
Location: Syndicate HQ
Age: 23
Gender: Male
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Jeremy Kyle - Birmingham, England

There was a few moments as Jeremy listened to the Directive's shoes head out the door and the door close with a bang. The Directive was a scary man, short tempered and stressed most of the time, Jeremy wondered if he was ever able to keep a woman close to him without scaring her off. Once the Directive was out the door, he took a cloth over to the sink, running it under lukewarm water before rinsing it out. He returned and put it to Leon's cheek where a bruise was beginning to develop.

"Hold the cloth there, it will help stop the swelling, maybe even make the bruising less, but you're still going to have a fairly wicked mark." If Jeremy was to continue working with Leon, he would need to keep on his good side, the two could be a good team, only if Jeremy did not drive Leon over the edge with his antics.

Minutes of silence passed between the two, Jeremy felt awkward being around someone he had only just met, even more so that he had taken him into a situation where he ended up in hospital, well, the Syndicate's version of one anyway.

He coughed before he spoke, "so Leon, what's your story?" Jeremy was interested in learning where is partner came from, his past and any interesting details. Even as a child, he loved listening to people telling him or reading him stories, he would often get engrossed in the tale, living it by the persons words alone. He himself was not much of a storyteller, any he had weren't really appropriate or confidential.

xxxxx

The Directive heard Jeremy's chair move and the hand basin splash with water, outside of the room. He took a deep breathe before removing his glasses, wiping away the tears that were threatening to cascade down his cheeks. He didn't mean to lose his temper in there like he had, and it wasn't entirely intentional either. Ever since high school, the man know as the Directive always had a short temper, something he did not have control over, and the lack of control just made him more angrier. But he could not show a soft side to the children in the room; he had to be harsh and violent, he had a façade to uphold.

He proceeded down the hall, passing no one in his journey back to his office suite. The Syndicate's building rested in what was considered the 'heart' of Birmingham; a massive mirrored glass building that stuck up like any of the other skyscrapers around. The lower levels were inhabited by the company that financed the Syndicate. Like one of the many facets of the organisation, the accountancy firm below knew nothing of what was going on in the levels above their head. They knew that the Syndicate was there, but they did not know who they were or what they did; they continued on like nothing was wrong.

The Directives suite was a cross between an apartment and an office. The front door entered into what looked like an office; pictures hung on the wall, chairs on either side of a rich redwood desk sat in the middle of the room on a neutral coloured carpet. windows covered the left side and back of the room, looking out onto the southern districts of Birmingham, all completely visible to the Directive, but dark, obscured glass from the outside. To the right was a door like any other door, no different to the one that opened into his office, but in here was a combined bedroom-living area with a small kitchenette off to one side. Beside the kitchen area was another door that lead to an en suite.

He slammed the door behind him as he entered the office, loosing up his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as he wandered over to his desk, the final rays of the day poking over the horizon dotted with skyscrapers and houses. Pushing the 'loud speaker' button on his phone, he retreated into his apartment, beginning to change out of his work outfit into something more casual.

"You have one new message," the receiver skwarked, "First new message: received today at seven-thirty eight pm," taking a look at the time told the director that the person had called more than an hour ago, but he instantly froze as he heard the sharp, cold tone of his boss come onto the speaker.

"Finish mucking around with your 'children' and come see me immediately. He has something important to tell us." The message clicked off before the receiver reminded him that there were no more messages to be played.

Hurriedly, he changed back into his suit, only having removed his shirt, and began tying his tie as he walked out the door. If there was one person that you did not want to keep waiting, it was the Boss. He rode the elevator up to one of the top floors, his heartbeat pulsing violently as his hands began to shake with nervousness. If there was one person in the world he feared the most, it was the Boss. Smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt, the Directive exited the elevator, walking up to the red haired secretary whom seemed to look down upon him. Fresh roses sat on her desk, but he knew more than anything that they were not fresh.

"Rose, I am here to see Mr. Stagg. He wished to speak with me." He tried to keep his voice as neutral as possible, but the fear still crept into his voice.

"Ahhh, Danny, nice to see you again. Care to take a whif?" she motioned towards the flowers on her desk. She knew he disliked that name, so continued to use it on him as an aggravating attempt, something usually easy if it wasn't for his nerves wracking his body like a vibrating phone. He was smarter than that, he had fallen for her trick once before and had regretted it immediately after.

"No thank you," he simple and swiftly denied her offer and walked past into the office beyond.

The Boss' room face towards the east, the reason being that the Boss liked to watch the sun rise, reminding him of his own rise to power. In the centre of the room sat an ornately etched mahogany desk, clear except for a few pens an an A2 sized pad of paper, scribbles covering most of the page. In the massive leather chair sat a boy, no older than seven years old, but people in this building were more than they seemed. When he talked, the boy sounded eerily creepy, the worlds coming from his mouth not those you would expect from a seven year old.

"Daniel, my Directive, I see you have recieved my message, your ability to amuse yourselves with those puppets instead of talking to someone like me has always amused me to a great extent. Have a seat." he gestured to two chairs in front of his desk. Daniel was relieved that he was allowed to sit, for it he continued to stand, he was pretty sure his legs would have failed him.

An older man walked out from behind the director, having been obscured by the massive chair, Daniel had not noticed him initially, but despite the man's age, he looked far older than he actually was, Daniel put that down to his milky white eyes that, when he looked at Daniel, seemed to look straight through him.

"You know the Blind Prophet, don't you Daniel?" the seven year old asked him, which he replied with a quick nod. "He was the first person who approached me several years back who helped me to realise my powers and my full potential. I credit him with helping me to create what we now call The Syndicate, so we can help him create a better world." The messianic words that spilled from the child's mouth sent chills up Daniel's spine, but within seconds, the seven year old child aged twenty years until he was a much older version of himself.

"Daniel..." the Blind Prophet spoke, his voice quite raspy, "I remember working with you, for me it was if it happened years ago, but for you, it hasn't quite happened yet." Daniel had only met the Blind Prophet once before, and even then the man had spooked him. It was the Blind Prophet who told Daniel to find Jeremy Kyle and recruit him, and was most likely he who advised the Boss on what to do. "Daniel, you need to keep this boy Leon alive, he was an acquaintance of mine when I was younger, he has much to do and is an important asset to this company. We cannot afford to lose him." Daniel nodded, the Blind Prophet spoke of events that had yet to happen, quite a few times he had predicted for them to show them that he knew what he was talking about, so Daniel took this man's words seriously.

"Thank you very much, Blind Prophet," the Boss spoke to the man, who simply nodded and looked through the boss like he was not there. "Now Daniel, if you lose this kid, it is your head on the plate. Do whatever it takes. He is important. You may leave." The Boss was like that, swift and to the point.

Dismissed, he left the office, ignored Rose's taunts and took the lift back to his office. By the time he got back, night had fallen on the city and he was exhausted. He lay down on his bed, still fully clothed and closed his eyes, the folds of sleep carrying him away from all the madness that surrounded his world.
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Old December 23rd, 2011 (01:04 AM).
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It was justified
 
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Leon Nef- Birmingham, England

As the Directive left the room. Leon groaned out loud, the hit on his face definitely was going to leave a mark. He cursed under his breath as he lat back on the bed. At least the hit to the face was getting rid of any lingering pain from his other injuries he had just obtained from fighting those four Atlanteans. Jeremy came up to Leon now, giving him a cloth to put on the mark.

"Hold the cloth there, it will help stop the swelling, maybe even make the bruising less, but you're still going to have a fairly wicked mark."

Leon looked at Jeremy for a bit before accepting the cloth, and place it on his face. He gave Jeremy a slight nod before doing so, his way of saying thanks. Leon closed his eyes as he remembered back to the events in the forest. He kept replaying the events, the moment in which he took his first life with a lightning strike,then his second with a bullet, his third with a knife, his fourth with a spike.

But the one he kept replaying the most was the first. That first kill. Perhaps it was because of the connection with the lightning, or perhaps it was merely because it happened to be the first one. Whatever the reason, it was the most memorable: the one he kept thinking about. He looked at his hand and flexed it, remembering the feeling of holding that much power in his hands. Enough power to stop a human heart. Enough power to kill someone.

And the most scary, and yet exhilarating, thing about it was that it wasn't the full potential of the power he could use. It was but a fraction. He recalled the feeling he had when he was holding the lightning in his hands, electricity tingling at his nerves, his arm going slightly numb as he released the energy then. He recalled the shot of electricity that left his two fingers, and connected to the other person.

Maybe it was the electricity itself, or perhaps it was that feeling of releasing it, or maybe it was just the fact that he had killed someone with it. Whatever the reasoning behind it, Leon found himself realizing something about himself, his power, and that feeling: he liked it.

He was interrupted by Jeremy's coughing. He had actually forgotten momentarily where he was, and that Jeremy was even there.

"So Leon, what's your story?" He asked. Leon chuckled a bit.

"Heh...funny. I would have expected everyone in the Syndicate to have known my whole life story. I mean, how else did you find me?" The feeling of them not knowing everything about his personal life was a bit relieving. Leon preferred that they knew as little as possible about where he came from. Still, he felt he should tell Jeremy something, even if that something wasn't the whole truth.

"My story...I'm from Italy. Ran with a few gangs there, nothing to big, just petty stuff. Things to get by on. Found out about these powers, and I knew they would be useful in my...profession. Instead, I ended up getting dragged here, but I'm not complaining. I'm here for the money, and that's all." Leon concluded briefly. In fact, he intended to make the whole thing as brief as possible. "That's all I'm telling you, and really, that's all you need to know. The basics. If you ever need something stolen, I'm your man."

Leon turned to Jeremy now.

"What about you? Your village get burnt down and your parents died so you swore revenge, or some sad sob story like that? Because if that's the case, I don't really wanna hear it."

In honesty, Leon did want to learn a bit more about Jeremy. Not necessarily because he wanted to know about his personal life, but more because he realized, if he was going to be working with him, he'd better know his specialties.
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Old December 23rd, 2011 (09:19 PM).
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Location: In a dream, within a dream....
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Nature: Calm
Nickolai Afon - Somewhere is Russia


"So, another plan change. We're heading to..." Natalia stopped, then smiled. "No, you tell me where we are going. See if you can figure it out."

Nikolai stared at her for a moment. Figure out where they were going? How could he? Then he remembered his power. He might be able to find out where they were going through his power. He though for a moment, then pulled out his iPhone and held it in his hand, he closed his focused for a moment, then lines of code flashed accross the screen. The code was going impossibly fast, thousands of pieces of data flowing through the tiny screen, completely uncomprehendable to the common person. He closed his eyes and let the data flow through him and enter his brain. In his mind's eye, he saw the data come together and form more comprehendable forms, images or words. Some were simple, like an icon telling him that he had an email that flashed up. Others were harder, like a confusing line that was just a jumble of letters and numbers. He searched for a moment, then found what he was looking for, his connection to the satalite. He entered the satalite through his phone, and started to process the data. He sifted through the data for a moment before he found it. The call that Natalia had made just a moment before. He tried to trace the call, and locate where the original call had been made. An image of a transparent globe appeared before his eyes, with blue lines for outlines of countries. The call he was tracing was a faint green line, that originated from Russia, their location only a few minutes ago. From there it traveled to the satalite, and from there to another satalite. That wasn't uncommon, it was the easiest was to throw off someone trying to trace a call. The signal was bounced through a few satalites before finally heading back down to the globe. From there, it was difficult to descern where it was going. Up in space, the signals had been more spread out, and it was easier to follow the signal he wanted. But closer to the surface, the signals became much more concentrated the closer in he went. He was able to confirm that the signal came from a European country though. He narrowed the signal down to a few countries: France, Ireland, UK, or Germany. He immediately threw Germany off of the list, as Natalia had just said that they would not be going there. So it was down to France, Ireland, or the UK. He gave up on his signal hunt after that, the interference was just too complicated. He had discovered what the phone address of the other phone was though. He took a quick look through a few databases of popular phone companies, and discovered that the phone was licensed to Bartholomew Yagir, which was probably just a cover name. He did a trace on the public databases of the man, and found out the he worked for a companay called Authentic Ugandan Photographs. Authentic Ugandan Photographs, AUP. Definitely a front for the organization. The company was located in southern France, but that meant nothing. The phone could have been taken anywhere from there. Then he had an idea. He quickly hacked into the phone, which had an alarming amount of security, and accesed the programs list. After not finding what he wanted, he quickly hacked the password and downloaded a parental controls program to the phone. After installing it, he quickly installed the same program on his phone, and had his phone registered as the "parent" of the other phone. He activated the GPS option via his phone, which tracked the other phone to northern France, somewhere north of Paris. Suddenly, he felt himslef being pusehd out of the other phone, and it suddenly left the network grid. He had obviously been found out, and the owner of the phone had either turned it off or destroyed it. He let himself come back to reality, and he felt a dizzyness after he disconnected from his phone, as he always did when he used his power. He looked at the clock and realized that he had been working for about half an hour. He looked over at Natalia and said, "I think we're headed to France, somehwhere north of Paris. Although, your friend Annie might not stay there for long, I think she found out that I accessed her phone..." Nikolai gave a guilty look. Then he looked up, and realized that they were approaching the border. "Um, we might have more pressing matters though. I didn't really plan to be traveling internationally today, so I didn't really bring my passport..."
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  #62    
Old December 28th, 2011 (05:09 AM). Edited January 26th, 2012 by Skymin.
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Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: AU
Age: 21
Nature: Quirky

Natalia Zaytsev - Heading west from Moscow, Russia

"Welcome back," Natalia said, turning to Afon. Indeed, he looked almost comatose for the past half hour, but Natalia had not worried about it all too much; she figured it was his Atlantean power or a side effect or such. She made a mental note of teaching him on how to search faster, or maybe be able to learn to do his thing and be consciously aware at the same time. She wasn't exactly sure of how she would do it, but she would think of something. She always did.

"I think we're headed to France, somehwhere north of Paris. Although, your friend Annie might not stay there for long, I think she found out that I accessed her phone," she heard him say, a little faint than before from fatigue, maybe. Natalia laughed just a little.

"It's alright," Natalia said with a nod. "I did tell her as you were just getting into it. You were close. She said she was going to direct you off course, but you seem to get the gist of it all. We're not worried on security; there's no one else in the world but you who can mentally break a encryption code like that." That was true. Each Atlantean had an individual power that was unique to themselves. Natalia was confident that no normal mortal could ever bypass their security.

"Um, we might have more pressing matters though," Afon continued. Natalia quickly glanced at him and followed his eyes. The border? "I didn't really plan to be traveling internationally today, so I didn't really bring my passport."

"That's no issue," she said, flicking out a passport with Afon's face on it, but not his name. Alexander Gorchilin, it read. And on hers, Elmira Zherzdeva. Natalia had to be planned for these kinds of things. She had a whole list of identifications made under several names for both her and Afon, including licenses, library cards, wallets, bank cards. You never know what might happen on the road.

They approached the border of Belarus and were welcomed by a unwelcoming sight; long lines and a lot of security. Natalia arched her head out the window as they approached the lines. The guards had syringes in their hand, obviously similar to the ones used at the Atlantean Centres. Dammit! Who gave them that formula in the first place, the Royal Family? They were obviously checking everyone who tried to escape the country. Natalia spotted a man being escorted out of the car, towards a large building at the end of the gates. Was this another Royal Family attempt at finding the best for their forces? What ever it was, it was not good for them. There were at least 12 cars in front of them. That gave Natalia about half an hour to try and find a solution. Half an hour... Oh!

"Afon," she said to him, "I need your help. We need to create... A distraction before we get to the gates. One that could either stop us from getting that needle or something that will create an opening for us to get away. I would do it myself but getting out of the car would immediately draw attention to myself and Annie wouldn't do anything better than you can. We have the tools we need," she looked at him and nodded slightly. "We just need to use them properly."
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Old December 31st, 2011 (06:55 PM).
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V.S. The Wymsical Champion
 
Join Date: Nov 2011
Location: You don't need to know, bruvah.
Age: 22
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Jason 'Wym' Weaver
I Meet The Strangest Doctor


Well ... err ... I never manage to get introductions right. Err ... Hi, my name's Jason. Welcome to the story of my ... life? No, that sucks. Oh, whatever! I really don't know why I'm telling you this story. It could get you into some serious trouble. Go on, shoo! No ... wait, stay, stay! Sigh. Alright, let me introduce myself again. My name's Jason Weaver, people call me 'Wym'. I'm telling you the story of my time as an Atlantean because ... well, it's hard to keep it a secret. Heh. Funny how I've kept it a secret for so long now, and now I'm just up and telling it to you. But you need to know. It may put you in serious danger, the police or even the other Atlanteans could come looking for you, but it's for your own good. Now listen well, you'll need a good ear for this tale.

Well, let's see ... ah, yes, it all started at my house.

USA, San Diego

A week ago, the Atlanteans had revealed themselves to the world. A week ago, I got my sign. A week ago, my prom date left me. Damn, it just stings thinking about it now. Urgh. Anyhow, I remember I was sitting in my sofa. A black leather sofa. I was in my apartment, of course, which was, as usual, a mess. I was gonna clean it up, later, I swear! If this news flash hadn't caught my attention first ...

“…a large explosion occurring in Berlin, Germany today, thought to be the work of Atlanteans has rushed a bill through the United Nations calling for all Atlanteans to register themselves and their abilities with the local Atlantean Centre in all capital cities. The Atlantean Royal Family, lacking to presence of leader Blayze Nalaar, has today agreed with the UN authorities to support their decision and were the first to register. Anybody now caught using Atlantean Abilities without being registered or carrying a registration card will face detainment.”

Well, this was a sudden turn of events, I thought. I really didn't want to go and register my ability. No way! It may have lost me my prom date, but it was purely awesome! In case you still don't know, I have Ferrokinesis. The ability to manipulate all types of metal. Cool, huh? I feel like Magneto. But technically, he has the power to manipulate magnetic fields and magnetic metals, on the other hand, minus the magnetic fields, I have the power to control all metals. I'm like Mega Magneto. Haha, anyways, like I said, I really didn't feel like registering my ability. It didn't feel right after trying to keep it secret the whole week. Although this ability was pretty new to me, maybe they could help me delve deeper into it. I thought about this for a little while. I activated my powers to try and test them out. I always kept a little bar of metal in my pocket to practice my powers on. I made it float from my pocket, right now, it was a circle shape. I decided to shape it into a thin triangle now, and hence, that's exactly what happened. I didn't even need to extend my hand or anything. Unlike what most people might have you think, it has nothing to do with extending your hand, 'cuz you're using your mind. It's like a kind of telekinesis, but it only works on metal components.

Enough of the science talk, on with the story. So I was still thinking about it while I was bending my block of metal into various shapes. A triangle, like before, a square, a diamond, a rectangle, whatever popped into my mind. I even made a trollface out of the thing. (Don't know what trollface is? Look it up. There's this little thing I like to call Google) In the end, I decided I had to go. If I didn't, I could get in some serious trouble with the authorities.

So, I went and caught the first flight to England. No way was I gonna go to the Atlantean Center in the US, besides, I'd never been to England, and this was the perfect excuse.

England, London

Upon arriving, I felt one thing and one thing only: sick. Seriously, I cannot fly on a plane without getting sick. I wasn't embarrassed when I puked in a barf bag and the little girl next to me laughed her head off at me. No way! And yes, I was still feeling sick. But that soon passed, no worries. Alright, you can stop laughing now. ...Seriously, do you want me to continue or what? Yes? Good.

Right, so after I arrived, I ate some English food. That almost made me puke too. Seriously, I should have remembered that English food was often terrible. (No offense there, England) So after that, I called a cab, and I was on my way. "London, please." I told the cab driver. His face seemed to turn dull as he recognized my American accent.

Not long after, I was in London. The Atlantean Center was only a few blocks away, so I had to walk the rest of the way. Later, when I finally got there, I walked in. There wasn't much of a line, which was lucky for me. Two guards at the entrance stuck a need inside my arm to check if I was Atlantean or not, it took a moment, but they verified if and let me through. I wondered if I'd have to have a needle stuck in me every time I walked in and out of this place.

I took a seat in one of the station, and stared at the doctor. He wore big glasses, he had beady eyes, he looked like an evil scientist of some kind. His repulsive sight made me wanna flick my metal bar at his face. He eyed me with only one eye open, he looked at my face, then my chest, then my hair. I decided to let him do so, although I was visibly disturbed. "Heeheehee, a real Atlantean." he sneered. "Lucky, I was, that Doctor Monroe went home early!" he whispered. "Naaaame?" he said. Now, I was clearly freaked out. What was this guy, Yoda? But, I put it aside and replied "Jason Weaver." to the curious doctor. He eyed me once more. "Your power, what would it be, Mr. Weaver?" he snickered. "Ferrokinesis." I told him. He jotted my name and my power down on a notepad. The only thing I liked about this guy was that I didn't have to explain Ferrokinesis to him. Or so I thought. "What might that be?" he asked. Now there was nothing I could like about him. "Ability to manipulate and control metal. Not to be confused with Mag-" he interrupted me. "Ah, yes, that one." he said, jotting down the notes on the piece of paper.

What he did next was withdraw his piece of paper and wave it in my face. "Take this and go over there, young Atlantean." he said, he dropped it and pointed to a door. I stood up, took the piece of paper, and read it as I came through the door. It said:

Name: Jayson Weever

Ability: Ferokinisis, controlling of metal & mag


Oh my god, I thought, this guy was a complete idiot. I looked up at the people in the room. Others ... like me. Yes, other Atlanteans. Being with them made me feel better, but there were no chairs in this place. People were just slugging around. A few left, but many others came in through the door I had come through. I looked back at my piece of paper and flipped it over. Thank god it was clear. I made my piece of metal float into the air, and it changed into a pencil shape. I grabbed my backpack and took a pot of old-fashioned ink from it. I dipped my metal pen into it and started writing on the paper. Yup, I made stuff out of my block of metal. Real convenient. There, I wrote what should have been written.

Name: Jason Weaver

Ability: Ferrokinesis, the ability to manipulate metal, not to be confused with Magnetokinesis, the ability to control magnetic metals and fields.


That was better. I scribbled out what was on the back, and made it look like the docotr had made a mistake there. I also tried my best to copy the doctor's handwriting based on what I found on the back.

So, I was stuck here 'till I was to be let out. Just great.
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Old January 2nd, 2012 (12:59 PM).
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Nickolai Afon - Border of Russia/Belarus

Now Nickolai's power was needed more than ever. Half an hour for a distraction? Maybe, he just might be able to do something in that time frame. He would have to work fast though. Without answering Natalia, he quickly closed his eyes again and dove into the world of electronics. he used the bluetooth options on his iPhone to search for any signals nearby he might be able to pick up on. He got lucky and found a man in one of the buildings talking on the phone using a headset. The phone was connected the the central mainframe of the buildings, and Nickolai quickly accessed the mainframe from there. Then he assesed his options. Until now, he did not really know what he was going to do, only that he had to create a distraction. Searching through his options, he accesed the security cameras spread throughout the compound. He flipped through them rapidly, only giving a few attention. He flipped through some, then turned back to one that caught his attention. It seemed like an ordinary room at first, but after looking at it further, he noticed several things. First of all, there was an enclosed shelf, holding rows and rows of small vials, which Nickolai recognized as the compound they used to test for Atlantean abilities. Second was that there was some slight condensation on the inside of the glass cabinet, and there was a control panel on the side. Climate control perhaps?

As Nikolai thought about it, he realized that the chemical in the vials had a weakness. His mind flashed back to when he was in his chemistry class in high school, his teacher lecturing about chemicals and compounds. He remembered her saying that many chemicals used in medical enviroments need to be kept at controled temperatures, or else the compound could be made inert, and would not complete the correct reaction. Nikolai realized that they probably kept the vials in a controled enviroment until they were ready to be used, so that the compound would not be affected as much by the cold. Nikolai quickly checked the rest of the compound for any other containters like this one, but found none. They had put all of the vials in one place, where they could all be affected at once. Nikolai smiled. This was going to be easier than he thought. He tried to access the climate control pannel through the mainframe, but he could not find it. He considered for a moment trying something else, but he did not give up hope so easily. He returned to the security camera watching the container and thought for a quick moment. If only he could access the pannel without having to have a signal connecting it. He had realized he could do so before, but it took a lot of concentraition, and only when he was already close to the electronic. Realizing he had no other option, he prepared himself for the mental leap, and tried to jump from the security camera to the control pannel. For a moment there was only darkness and Nikolai thought he had failed. Then lines of code started to flash across his vision, and as he viewed them, he realized that he had been succesful. The code solidified in front of him, becoming recognizable shapes and words, and he worked quickly, not knowing how much time he had left. He turned the temperature as far down as the thermostat in the container would go, hoping that the cold would stop the compound from working. He suspected it would, he had watched on the security cameras only moments before a guard accesing the container, and moments before that as well. Each time the guard had only taken the necessary amounts for each car, one vial per person. Nikolai hoped that they did this because the cold would affect the vials after too long, so they only let the vials be exposed for a few minutes before being put to use. As Nikolai watched the thermostat reading go down, he realized that it might still be too slow. The vials might not be affected enough before it came to be their turn to be injected. Nikolai decided he needed a backup plan. Until now, Nikolai had tried to be subtle in his actions, not causing too much attention to be drawn to himself, but he needed something that caused utter hell, just in case his first plan failed.

He exited the container and accessed the central compound's mainframe once again, this time looking at the biulding where he had seen an Atlantean being escourted away behind locked doors. He found what he was looking for, holding cells inside the building, about half of them being occupied. He searched through the first few, but on the third, he found what he was looking for. A very angry man was shouting at the walls, then started throwing fireballs at them, as if the walls would collapse. The walls remained intact of course, and the man resumed shouting again. Nikolai pitied the guard that might run into him, but he knew it was necessary. After cracking a short combination code, then electronic door to the man's cell slide open. The man just stared for a moment, then rushed out, catching a guard by surprise. The firethrower yelled and threw a fire ball at the guard, who ran away screaming with his hair on fire. The man laughed, then moved on in the facility.

Nikolai allowed himself to slip out of the electronic world and back into reality. He opened his eyes, and took a quick look at the cars in front of him, only seeing two. He had cut it close, only a few more minutes, and it would have been their turn. As he watched, a guard exited the building and walked up to another guard standing by a car. The first guard shook his head at the second, and the second slapped the first on the head before rushing into the buidling. Nikolai smiled, knowing that his first plan had worked to some degree. Barely a minute later, the door the the gray building that had housed the Atlanteans exploded outward and flames shot out of the front of the building. The prisoner Nikolai had freed rushed out of the building, along with a few others that Nikolai assumed that the man had freed. It worked perfectly. The border guards were caught unawares, and scrambled around trying to subdue the excaped prisoners. Meanwhile, The two cars in front of them started forward and crosed the border. Nikolai smiled at Natalia as she accelerated as well, taking advantage of the confusion to cross into Belarus.

"Well", Nikolai said, "That went just about perfect."
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Old January 8th, 2012 (07:55 PM).
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River Beleren – English Countryside, England

As soon as the first object hit the side of the helicopter, River knew that they were in for trouble. This wasn’t the first time she had been targeted in the air going from place to place; she had made enough enemies in her lifetime to sink a ship and she doubted that any of them ever forgot her. Ever since her colleagues had revealed themselves a little over a week ago, her face had been plastered all over the television and on posters around the world with the others; drawing unwanted attention from those shadows of her past. Although there weren’t any she could not deal with considering the abilities she had grown to control.

But now as the helicopter hurtled through the sky, nose-diving towards the ground, she forced herself to remain in control and calm for the sake of the young Atlanteans under her responsibility. She tried to contact the pilots through her helmet, but received nothing but static. Fearing the worse, she turned back to aid the others when another hit shook the helicopter and the door on the far side flew off its hinges, whipping anything not buckled down outside into the open air. She lunged as she saw Michael fly out the open door, the tips of their fingers touching briefly before her seatbelt constrained her, pulling her back towards the seat as Michael was swept out of the helicopter. Oakley was next to follow him out, followed closely by Christian whom, despite seeming to have a dislike for the two girls, got them out of their seats and out of the gaping hole, presumably to save them.

River was surprised at the kids; they were ready to risk their only lives for those of others, despite only having just recently met them. Something like this would prove valuable and dangerous at the same time. It made River proud to know that she had chosen a good bunch of kids. Most adults nowadays would value their own lives ahead of others; perhaps these kids could achieve greatness as heroes.

At least though, they were out of the death trap that was the helicopter, and River wasn’t too far behind them. Before she left the helicopter, River took a brief glance into the cabin as she was whipped out into the twilight sky. There hadn’t been much to see; the pilots were nowhere to be seen and the cabin all but gone. Whatever had hit them had hit them hard, and it looked like whoever sent it had the intention of killing them with no remorse. She tumbled through the sky for little more than a couple of seconds before she righted herself, spreading her limbs apart to slow her descent as much as she could. To her left she saw the helicopter plummet closer towards the earth, to her right she watched as Christian grasped the girls closer to his body, their combined mass slowing them down more, yet they were still descending at a fast rate.

For a moment, River saw Christian focus and his form shift as he tried to use his abilities, but River saw the immediate regret as the two girls fazed through his form and tumbled faster towards the earth while Christian seemed to float upwards. River cursed and brought her arms closer to her side, and with feet together she angled towards the two plummeting girls, shooting through the sky like a rocket. As she shot through the sky, she could feel the moisture in the air soaking into her clothes, and then did the idea spring to mind. Gathering the condensation from her clothing, she moved it in one long stream down her arms. Once it had coagulated at the ends of her fingers, she thrust her arms forward, aiming each at the girls now freefalling through the sky. Like a jet the water shot forth from her fingertips, angling towards the girls as the wind tried to break the stream of water apart. In a matter of seconds they were completely encased in a ball of water, the outside of it slightly frozen over so the water was kept in. Little pockets of air appeared where the girls’ mouths were in order to keep them alive and breathing, so that hopefully when they landed, the water would take the brunt of the impact, leaving the girls with only minor bruising.

River looked to the tips of her fingers where there should have been water molecules, was nothing but her thin Asiatic fingers topped with black nail polish. She cursed silently to herself for using all the moisture she had, there was not enough time nor distance left to do something similar for herself or Christian, despite Christian somewhat seeming to be doing fine on his own. Looking below, she spotted the lake that was slowly increasing in size, it was too far away for her to use its water, and it would be too late when she was close enough to it. Instead, she angled her body down, aiming towards the lake. If she could make it in time, and calculated it correctly, then she should have no trouble surviving the fall and helping the other three. Again, this was all theory. River took a quick glance around, but could not find Michael and Oakley, scanning the horizon in a full three hundred and sixty degrees; she saw no sign of them. Looking down again at the lake she was aiming for she noticed a cloud of dust and water launch into the air and realised that they must have landed already.

The dread crept in like a plague, momentarily taking over and making her falter before she regained control. River inwardly kicked herself for letting the siblings die, but she was adamant that she would not let the others under her control die either. There was also a small hope buzzing around insider her head, a hope that they had somehow lived through the fall, most likely due to Oakley’s ability. However she kept this hope small, if she let it overcome her and they had died, then she would be disappointed, in they had lived, and then she would be happy and grateful.

Drawing her mind away from the possible unfortunate event that could unfold, she directed her brain power towards landing, more specifically diving through the air. What she was going to attempt was suicidal at best and at the rate of speed she was going, it would be like slamming into concrete, her body splattered far and wide. The one thing she was counting on to keep her alive would be her ability to telekinetically control the water around her. But now as she dropped through the air, aiming towards the growing body of water below her, she began to doubt the very ability she believed she controlled.

Hitting the water stung against her sting like a thousand needles. Her skin seemed to rip off of her muscle fibre and the muscles peel away from the bone. She gritted her teeth as the pain wracked throughout her body from head to toe. The velocity had carried her right down to the bottom of the water reservoir, slowing her down enough so that she did not slam into the bedrock below. She quickly formed an air bubble around her mouth allowing her to breathe, the water turning into oxygen for her to breather while the hydrogen rose up with the carbon dioxide to the surface above. She tried not to take her time, she still had the others falling through the sky, and if she was lucky enough, they would all still be alive. It didn’t take her too many strokes until she broke the surface, pushing herself up further by manipulating the water to rush upwards. She took a breath of country air tainted with faint tastes of nature as opposed to the filtered ‘pure’ air she could breathe underwater.

She watched the balls fall through the sky, landing on the shore not too far from where she tread water. Hovering her hands above the water she soon put then down onto seemingly solid water; in a matter of seconds she had frozen the top layer of water about a meter in diameter around her, and lifted herself up onto the ice. The water that had permeated her clothes washed off as it rose above the water, and once on top, began running across the waves, the water freezing enough to support her weight as she progressed towards the shore. She arrived to find the girls coughing and spluttering and seemingly unharmed. River quickly drained the water from their clothes to prevent hypothermia.

“Stay her and keep dry,” she said to them in passing as she ran out into the cool evening air towards where she believed she saw the giant cloud of dust that had been the North siblings.

If the crater wasn’t any indication of their landing, then the giant form that inhabited it was certainly not either of them. Looking at the armoured arm that lay extended in front of her, River could see the similarity between it and the armour that grew on Oakley’s body. The other hand was clutched to what seemed like her chest, if Oakley’s armour’s anatomy was the same as that of her body. Jumping down the side of the crater, she walked over to a small appendage that River soon identified as Oakley’s head, her eyes closed shut and breathing heavy. The armour felt solid enough, but still moved like her body normally would, her abdomen rising and falling with each breath.

River worked herself as close as she could to the closed fist, finding Michael trapped but unconscious in her grip and somewhat unharmed. She took the crystal from around her neck, and waved it across Oakley’s body, and within minutes the armoured Oakley returned to her normal size. Lying Oakley across her left shoulder, River supported Michael with her right arm and began a slow shambling walk back to where the others sat. It took her awhile as from time to time she would momentarily loose grip of one before gaining it back. Once back with the others, she laid them side by side as they slept unconsciously; no doubt they would wake up in the morning.

River turned to the other three, “I’m sorry this has been an eventful day, I assure you that this was not planned, nor should we be in anymore danger. For now, all we can do is rest until morning.” She watched as they lay down on the ground, even the American girl did not grumble as the folds of sleep enveloped her. The Italian girl muttered in Italian before she lay her head on Christian’s shoulder and Michael, deep in slumber, wrapped his arms around Oakley.

Before she slept, River frosted the grass in a four metre radius circle around them, if anyone was going to disturb them, then she would be first to know of their presence.
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Old January 9th, 2012 (09:38 PM). Edited January 29th, 2012 by Raikiri.
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Christian Calaway- English Countryside, England
------------------------------

Useless. That is how Christian felt at the moment. It was a feeling he despised more than anything. He valued independence and self reliance. He enjoyed being able to do things for himself and do things by himself. Saving two girls (as much as he did not enjoy them), as intimidating a task as any, was something he wanted to do. It would signify his importance, raise his quickly evaporating self esteem, and for a moment make him feel like he did something.

Instead, this happened.

Every time he tried to do something to slow the fall of the women, he would become a floating puff of smoke. The theory in which Christian tried to enact was rather simple. As smoke, Christian more or less flew like a cloud which was slow, deliberate, easy to control. Beginner level techniques, but Christian couldn't be too ambitious quite yet. It's only been about a week. Christian wanted to use these principles but only on his lower body, transforming his legs into smoke while retaining a solid upper body. This would of allowed him to hold on to the women and through extreme concentration, allow them to slowly descend to the ground. It would be safe and everyone would survive. If could master that ability, it would definitely prove useful in the future. Christian had hoped the increased pressure to learn this power would help.

It didn't. Instead, it lead to childish mistakes. Mistakes that could result in (relatively) innocent lives being lost. Once again, Christian found himself being a dark cloud looming over the girls as they descended like meteorites hurdling towards the Earth destined to become craters. Fortune smiled on them however. Watching from his vantage point in the sky, Christian saw a figure speed through the sky. "River?" Christian muttered to himself. Christian almost forgot about her, being too preoccupied with himself and the others. River, for all intents and purposes, the most powerful of the helicopter crew. It was at this point that Christian's doubts about the girls surviving dissipated. Against his yearning desire to be a hero, Christian forced himself to admit that he was not going to be saving anyone, at least in his state. His power was too erratic. Christian watched as the girls were entombed into a sphere of water and River descend to the ground. Unable to make out the figures on the ground, Christian saw a blue shape on the ground. He figured it was a body of water in which he logically deduced River would use to amplify her water themed abilities. Unsure of what she was going to do but trusting her judgement nonetheless, Christian decided to turn to more pressing matters. For the time being, he was safe where he was. He wasn't falling, able to gain enough control to keep his current altitude. Getting down was the problem. Oh, first world problems~.

Christian knew, at least in the back of his mind, the only way down was by turning into a solid and crashing. It was more figuring out how to not go from a solid into a liquid. The idea he wanted to experiment with in saving the girls was one possibility. The other idea was falling until the last second and smoke out. Another idea was to aim for the lake and hope for the best. Had he been able to fly, all his problems would be solved. That, however, was not his power. Combining all the plausible ideas was another option. Snapping his fingers, Christian decided that it was all or nothing. And by all or nothing, Christian meant he would throw all the ideas together and hope for the best.

Gulping out of nervousness, Christian focused and shifted back to his physical form. As expected, gravity started to give him a big hug.

Then Christian shifted back to smoke: "No!"

Back to solid. Back to smoke: "No!"

Back to solid. Back to smoke: "No!" The ground became closer in view. The girls could be seen, having been successfully rescued by River. Christian smiled, happy to see everyone appeared to be fine. Christian felt a new wave of inspiration. "Right, let's do this."

He went back to a solid, the ground itched closer to him. He could feel the pull the gravity, the allure of becoming a pancake. Christian shook off these fears. It was all about this moment. It was do or die. Literally.

The ground breathed down his neck. Death was inevitable. He held his breath. Crushing pain was inescapable. He was in death's sweet embrace. No choice to but accept it.

Then nothing.

Christian slowly opened his eyes. Right, then left. "Strange. I'm not dead," Christian mumbled to himself. He looked around, hoping for a clue. Was it River? No, she wasn't here. The girls? They were too busy being cold. It was then that Christian glanced down. His legs…they were smoke! His upper body was solid…but his lower body was nothing more than a cloud of smoke. He resembled a genie from those fantasy novels. The plan was a success.

Christian wanted to experiment with this new trick (Hoping to try flying, but now wasn't the time). Christian focused on being solid again and watched his legs reform. He feel about half a yard to the ground, feet first. His legs felt a bit wobbly, nothing out of the ordinary. He ran over to the girls, realizing they were cold. The Italian girl was the first he approached. Personally, Christian found her more attractive, probably because she didn't sound like a deaf pig when speaking.

"Here, take my jacket. It should keep you warm," Christian said removing his leather jacket and placing over the girl's shoulders. Christian's black shirt was finally revealed to the world. It was about one size too small, being 6 months old. In those months, Christian actively attended a gym hoping to get buff for the ladies. Christian took a seat next to her, carefully avoiding eye contact. He wasn't sure what to say or what to do. Having not been with a girl in years, Christian lacked experience with women. Not to mention, everyone nearly died.

River eventually returned, comforting with kind apologies and sweet words of reassurance. At least she had manners. She "ordered" them to rest. Christian didn't need to be told twice. The Italian girl mumbled something in Italian and then laid her head on Christian's shoulder. Unsure of how to react, Christian blushed slightly and slowly put his arm around her. Hopefully, she wouldn't mind too much.
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  #67    
Old January 13th, 2012 (05:40 AM). Edited January 26th, 2012 by Skymin.
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Natalia Zaytsev - Belarus, heading north to Vitebsk

"I'll say," Natalia had pretty much drove as quickly as possible, following the SUV filled with a panicked family in front of her. Natalia breathed a heavy sigh; she was sure that Afon was going to take too long. She had even, at one point, propped her right hand over her gun holster. She did not wish to kill anyone, a few shots in the air would be suffice to scare a few people to run the gate. Still, she preferred Afon's method; this way, they remained undetected, unseen and unharmed in any way. "Thank you."

When she had travelled maybe an hour into Belarus, Natalia started to travel north; the closest airport that was in the safezone was in Vitebsk. Though she continued her light chatter to Afon, she couldn't help glancing over at the clock every quarter of an hour; she was anxious and was trying her hardest to travel the fastest she could while avoiding breaking the law.

The airport was easy to see as they grew close to it; it was now night time and very much easy to see the lights from the incoming and outgoing planes, plus the bright ones that lit up the runways. Natalia chose her park carefully; second level in the A zone. Then, gesturing to Afon, they made their way to the terminals. But first, they would need a ticket.

Natalia approached the fourth counter from the left confidently, leaning on the counter and staring at the man behind it, who hadn't bothered to look up until Natalia had cleared her throat.

"Yes?" he said boredly.

"Two adult tickets to New Zealand, would you please," the man stared at her, his eyes darting quickly at Afon for a moment before coming back to Natalia. "The next plane."

"My, what a spontaneous trip. Where are your bags?" the man clicked his tongue.

"We like to travel light."

The man narrowed his eyes and stood up after a few moments, waving at Natalia and Afon to follow him into a small office around the counter, directly behind him. "You'll have to come with me."

Natalia nodded back, and mimicing his wave at Afon and followed him. When Natalia had shut and locked the door behind Afon, the man opened a door behind him concealed inside a cabinet, which led down a hallway and inevitable, outside. To a small runway. Natalia smiled a little.

"Through here," the man nodded again, glancing back through the foggy glass outside. "May the Universe bring you luck."

"Thank you, Valery. Let's go, Afon."

The hall was quite long and dark, but at least there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The small runway was empty bar for a single plane, similar to the private jets you see celebrities getting out of on the television. This was an AUP registered plane. One of the newer ones too.

"This is our ride until we get to France," Natalia said to Afon, stepping up the small stairs and popping open the door, swinging it open only to be met by a slightly underwhelming, one woman cheer.

"Natty!" Natalia poked her head in to see Annie sitting in a seat, a laptop in front of her and a headset clamped to her face. She didn't take her eyes off the screen, only smiling brightly,. Natalia climbed aboard, gesturing to Afon yet again to follow and almost fell into the seat opposite her friend. It was good to see her again.

"Hey Annie," Natalia replied in English. Annie's eyes left the laptop for a moment as she tapped rather furiously. Natalia could only imagine her word per minute rate. It must be in the triple digits, at least. "I didn't know you'd be joining us."

"Yeah. Cooper was getting worried that I was not getting enough vitamin D, so he pulled me along," she dipped her head towards the cockpit. An older man waved back as he prepared food of some kind over by a stove. "He flew down here."

"How long ago?"

"We landed about... 32 minutes and 45, 46 seconds ago."

"Okay," Natalia looked over at Afon, switching back to Russian. She wasn't sure he spoke English as well and asking would just take too long. "Afon, this is Annie. Do you remember her from the phone? She organises anything technology-wise. And that," she gestured to Cooper. "is John Cooper, but he liked to be called Cooper. He looks after everyone at the main headquarters. He's our pilot."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Afon," Cooper gave another wave, plopping a cube of ice into one of the four cups on the tray he was tending to and placing it on the table in the centre. The cups were accompanied by four bowls, filled to the brim with food. "Hungry? I made curried chicken and rice."

"Thank you, Cooper," Natalia took a bowl. "Are we leaving soon?"

"Right away," he said. "We'll be in the air for a while, we have to double back a few times, make some stops in different countries to make sure we are not being followed or arousing any kind of suspicion. We won't be in France until morning, so you are welcome to rest. I'll be sure to wake you when we get there."

"Thank you, Cooper." Natalia said again.

"So, Nikolai!" Annie said, flipping her eyes to him quickly. "You gotta tell me about this power of yours! Tell me more, can you show me maybe? I'd love to see how you work it all. I only saw a little up at HQ an-"

"Not now, Annie," Cooper placed another tray of bread on the table, cutting the American red-head off mid sentence. "Let him sleep, he's had an eventful day. He's probably tired. Now, sit in your seats and strap in. Make sure your wheelchair doesn't take someone out mid flight, Annie." She screwed her nose up back at him, wrinkling her freckles all over her face as she pulled herself away from the laptop to lean over to her right, adjusting what must have been her wheelchair. Natalia pulled her seatbelt over herself as Cooper shut the door and disappeared into the cockpit. The plane made a low hum as it warmed up.

"Did you have any more questions? Are you hungry? I'd suggest getting some sleep before we get there," Natalia chewed on her bread a little, making sure it affected her speech as little as possible.
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Old January 16th, 2012 (03:09 PM).
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Jeremy Kyle - Syndicate Headquarters, Brimingham, England

Jeremy was awake only moments before Leon woke, the sharp rasping knock at the door announcing the entrance of people. The first to come through the door was a fairly young man, late twenties at latest, hair a dark auburn colour and clad in doctors scrubs. He took a look at Leon’s vitals, taking his pulse, blood pressure and listening to his lungs before giving a nod to the second man who had stepped through the door; the Directive. The doctor whispered something in the Directives ear, trying not to look at the two boys before he departed out the door, most likely to finish up work in his office. Jeremy had only met the doctor on a few occasions, and apart from the handful of nurses that helped attend on people, Jeremy was fairly sure that this was the only doctor the syndicate had hired. The doctor spoke little to most patients, the eerie silence made the hairs on the back of Jeremy’s neck stand on end when the doctor had been stitching a gash together on Jeremy’s calf. Behind the Directive was a man Jeremy knew fairly well. Standing little under a head below the Directive and built quite solidly was Josh Meier, head researcher and scientist of the Syndicates Research Wing. Jeremy fumbled with the black G-Shock watch on his wrist as he smiled at the man who did not smile back.

The watch was the reason Jeremy seemed to have good control over his abilities. When he first started to teleport, he found that any clothing he was wearing would not teleport with him; appearing somewhere else stark naked. After training and getting use to his ability, he managed to be able to teleport with clothing, except that it would somehow be ripped between teleportation, as if the material was being torn when he teleported. After certain events transpired and he was forcefully recruited into the Syndicate, he met Josh Meier who after only a week gave Jeremy a gadget to help him control his ability. Run by a crystalline battery in the back, the analogue watch not only told the time, but also changed to suit the time zone he was in after a few minutes of being there. However the main feature allowed Jeremy greater control over his ability, as he managed to learn to use and control it at twice the speed he had been progressing.

“Morning lads,” the Directive spoke, the tone of his voice startled Jeremy; it seemed as if the Directive was more ‘nicer’ today, “I have great news.” Jeremy gulped; good news for the Directive was not always good news for everyone. “Firstly, I have a new assignment for you, Jeremy,” he handed Jeremy a manila folder with a couple of pages in it, “another recruit for you to go pick up for us… you know what to do.”

Jeremy accepted it and looked through the files, having a quick look at the assignment at hand and the person he had to retrieve. Giving a quick nod to the Directive, and a smile at Leon, he teleported out of the place, leaving Leon in the Directives care; something Jeremy was worried about.

Once Jeremy had left, the Directive turned his attention to Leon, who by now was sitting up in bed. He slipped the bag off his shoulder and opened it, revealing fresh clothing inside and tossed the clothes at Leon. “I got your size from the torn up clothes you had on, so they should fit. As far as aesthetics and style go, I chose what I figured you would wear. It was deducted from your wages.” He closed the curtains around Leon so he could get changed, waiting patiently. “Once you have finished getting dressed, I have someone here who will be looking after you today. If I were you, I would try to not keep him waiting.” He smirked at the doctor whom remained with his stone like facial expression of anger and boredom. He was glad that he didn’t have to deal with Jeremy and Leon today, while Jeremy would be away obtaining this new recruit; Leon would be with the doctor while he got to have a day off.

Once Leon was changed into his new clothing, the Directive drew back the curtains surround Leon’s hospital bed. “Leon, I would like you to meet Mr Joshua Meier, head of the Research and Development sector of the Syndicate. He will be taking you back to his lab today to do some tests and provide your ‘introduction’ into the Syndicate. If you have any questions, feel free to ask him, but don’t always expect an answer.” The Directive felt slightly happier today, it had been a while since he had a day off of work, and being able to go home and see his wife and child was a privilege that did not come around often.

“If you have any questions to ask me, do so now, otherwise I shall leave you in the care of Mr Meier here.” He silently hoped that Leon would not take too much of his time.
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Old January 17th, 2012 (05:42 AM). Edited January 17th, 2012 by adventure.
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Helena Andersson - Stockholm, Sweden

It had been a week. One week since Helena's colleague remarked on her "new tattoo" on her neck and since she suddenly turned into a ghost in front of a friend. One week of sneaking off to practice secretly in places where she wouldn't be disturbed. She often had to take the subway to places where she knew her friends wouldn't be practicing parkour or something. But other days, she just strolled around downtown, practicing to keep invisible even during distraction. She was getting better at it. But the instant she forgot all about being invisible, she turned visible again. She had to focus. It was annoying really. She couldn't do anything really demanding if she wanted to stay invisible. Parkour worked, since it was second nature to her, but not all the time.

This day, she walked into a store close to the Andersson's apartment, to buy some chewing gum. She loved to always have one to chew absentmindedly on in her mouth, even if it made her look a bit dumb since she often chewed with her mouth open. There weren't many people in the store when she grabbed the package. She suddenly got an idea. The package wasn't too large... she focused, trying not to look too strained so that people would wonder what she was doing. And all of a sudden, she couldn't see the package anymore. But she could feel it, in her hand. She also couldn't see her own fingers. They just... stopped, oddly, at the middle of the palm of her hand. She had not only managed to make a single body part, or a few, disappear - she had also made an inanimate object invisible! Awesome!

But she couldn't be seen like this. Just as she had that thought and looked around, her fingers came back and so did the package. The strange shock of suddenly seeing her hand again made her drop the chewing gum package. She sighed and bent down to pick it up. When she got back up, a TV screen behind the counter caught her eye. The cashier was watching the news boredly, eating a sandwich. Helena was just going to look away, when she realized why it had caught her attention that sudden. She had heard the word 'Atlantean'.

"…large explosion occurring in Berlin, Germany today, thought to be the work of Atlanteans has rushed a bill through the United Nations calling for all Atlanteans to register themselves and their abilities with the local Atlantean Centre in all capital cities. The Atlantean Royal Family, lacking to presence of leader Blayze Nalaar, has today agreed with the UN authorities to support their decision and were the first to register. Anybody now caught using Atlantean Abilities without being registered or carrying a registration card will face detainment."

A tiny 'thud' was heard as Helena dropped the chewing gum package again. It made the cashier turn around, but he didn't see anyone. "Hello?" he asked. Then he shrugged, took a bite off his sandwich and resumed watching the TV.

Helena had turned herself invisible at once and stormed out from the store. Detainment? Registration? She had to go and be labeled like some kind of... cattle? Hell no! She had her rights! Her human rights! Anyways, she didn't want to show anyone her ability and she wasn't planning on going to some 'Atlantean Centre'. Her ability was invisibility for crying out loud, if anybody could stay hidden, it would be her. She hurried home and rushed into her room, closing the door firmly and sitting down on top of her bed for several minutes, pondering things. Before she had come to any good conclusions though, her brother knocked on the door. Before this incident, he hadn't knocked on her door since he was a pre-schooler. Somehow, she welcomed the sound. From a long lost memory of joyful, carefree times on the countryside.

"Va?" she muttered, knowing he would hear her. Jonas entered, glasses on his nose and his bright sand colored hair all messy as usual. He looked at her carefully, apparently deciding that she had a problem, for he closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed beside her. He was thinner than her, and taller already, despite being only 14 years old. His voice had only recently started to change, so right now it was a teenage mess of awkward noises. Helena thought it was really annoying, but she couldn't really blame him for something that genetics had done to him. Just like she shouldn't be blamed for her Atlantean genes... right?

"I saw the news on TV. You did too, didn't you." It wasn't really a question, but he wanted an answer.

"Japp," she replied, not looking at him. "I'm to be 'detained' unless I walk into a place where they... want to round up my people and treat us like cattle."

"You don't know that," Jonas said, smiling weakly. "Hah. You said 'my people'. You really are an Atlantean..."

"Sccchhh! What if mamma and pappa heard you! They'd send me away."

"No they wouldn't."

"You know they think I'm stupid," Helena said, then hesitated. She had never really opened up to her brother about her feelings. He had always been too young to understand anyways. But... he wasn't dumb.

"They don't. They love you. Even if you're an alien."

Helena looked up at him with an annoyed look. He smiled jokingly. "I think you should go."

"Oh, you don't want me here either? True... If I go away, you'll get my room."

"That's not it, syrran. But I don't want you to go to jail. You don't want to go to jail. Because it's only a matter of time before somebody sees you. How ironic that does sound... since you're invisible. Hehe."

Helena sighed. "But..." Was she going to do it? Maybe they would let her go home afterwards. Maybe it wasn't a concentration camp. She would just register and be on her way. They had no rights to do anything else. "But what should we tell mamma and pappa?"

"Let me handle that," Jonas said.

- - -

Only a few hours later, Helena was standing in a queue at the Sweden Atlantean Centre of Stockholm. There weren't too many people there. Perhaps Sweden didn't have many Atlanteans? Stockholm only held a couple millions inhabitants after all, much smaller than many cities in other countries that weren't capitals. Of course, Helena didn't think that last sentence. She could hardly remember how many they had been in her class at high school. It didn't interest her to know how many inhabitants lived here, nor there... It wouldn't take her too long to reach the front of the line.

She was so nervous... did she really want to do this? Register? No. She didn't. She really didn't. Why did she let her brother talk her into this? It wasn't too late to leave. She started taking some steps out from the line. A police officer immediately stepped up and asked her what was the matter. He spoke in a friendly tone, but Helena didn't perceive him as friendly. She wasn't allowed to leave. That was the ugly truth. She had to go on forward. Darn it.

Unless... unless she turned herself invisible now? And ran? She could... She could do it.
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Old January 18th, 2012 (05:41 AM).
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Atticus Forsberg - Stockholm, Sweden

Atticus kept his arms firmly crossed as he watched in the cold of his car, a safe distance away from the Atlantean Centre. Sure, Sweden was a nice enough place, but holy hell was it cold. The last time Atticus had even stepped foot in Europe before last week was... probably July last year. In the Summer. When it was tolerably nippy. This? This was torture. Torture beyond compare. A new Ice Age. He was over-exaggerating, no doubt, due to the fact he under dressed for this occasion (t-shirt, leather jacket and a pair of jeans were probably meant for a Californian Winter) and wanted to blame someone else.

"Atticus?" his car chimed at him. He lazily blinked at it, yawning as he mashed a button on the dashboard with his thumb. Ugh, jetlag. Another thing to add to his list to complain about, along with by driving on the left side of the road, the cold, Lake Mälaren (which inevitably made it more cold), the cold, snow crapping up the tyres and surprise, surprise, the cold. Goddamn.

"What is it, Annie? I'm trying to sleep here."

There was a pause. "I really hope you're joking. Shouldn't you be practising your Swedish?"

"...Kanske," he sunk into his seat, cursing his father's tongue. His Swedish was fine. Perfect, in fact. It was the only reason he was on this assignment since most others who were multilingual were somewhere else, like Russia or Spain. Never the less, to please Annie, he swapped languages. "Happy now?"

"Your accent is so obvious," Annie sounded less than impressed. What could she say anyway? She was American too.

"So is yours," Atticus shrugged, pulling his leather coat tighter around him. "What of it? It's not like they're gonna throw me out."

"Are you sure about that? Anyways, get your lazy ass out of the car, she's here."

"Are you sure?" Atticus squinted and looked around, the fog on the windows just light enough so he could see out of them. He hadn't seen anyone that looked like the photos he had been given or matched the description he had been sent. Female, about five foot three, blondish, quite fit. "I can't see her."

"She's there. Tell me how you go, okay?" There was a beep and the call cut out. With a grunt, Atticus kicked the car door open and quickly closed it, keeping the air inside hot (ish) for when he came back. He didn't spend too long at the car, quickly darting across to the centre, scanning the area for signs of the girl. Woman? Lady? She was only four or five years younger than Atticus himself. When he had caught glimpse of a familiar face, he lined up behind her, staring at the back of her head. Plan? He had... kind of a plan. He could always call on Annie if he needed a proper distraction, but Atticus wanted to do this for himself, since he seemed to be useless in most other departments (other than speaking Swedish). Including his Atlantean ability.

The lines weren't long and when he finally decided to initiate his plan, the girl herself had started to do something of her own, taking a few steps out of line. Atticus was almost about to grab her arm until a policeman stole his plan, stepping in front of her and asking her what was wrong. Atticus took a glance forward, towards the front of the line. Aw, hell. They needed to leave before this girl wrote her name up for anything, before they took her inside. Before the Royal Family did what they pleased with her. He had to improvise. That's what Atticus did best; just doing what his gut told him.

"Hey," he almost hissed into her ear. "How much do you wanna get out of here, hey?"
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Old January 18th, 2012 (09:50 AM).
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Helena Andersson - Stockholm, Sweden

"Hey, how much do you wanna get out of here, hey?" a voice suddenly hissed in Helena's ear. She jumped a tiny bit and swung around, almost raising her hand as to hit or at least slap whoever was weird enough to come so close to a stranger. Her muscles and parkour skills had given her good reflexes. But luckily, she didn't follow through on that, perhaps because she glimpsed the back of a police officer in the corner of her eye and lowered the arm again, staring at the guy behind her in the line. He was looking at her. Clearly he was the one who has said something.

"What?" she whispered back, in Swedish of course. "Va?" She tried to compose herself and to not look like he had actually scared her for a moment there. She had been so nervous. She still was, but she wouldn't let a stranger notice. She gave him a hasty smile and didn't give another response before turning around again, hoping that he would have mistaken her for someone else. Or maybe he was a bit crazy. Maybe he was a homeless guy. No... she glanced back at him, very hastily. His clothes and his general appearance was much too fresh and nice for that. Maybe he had gone crazy when he found out that he was an Atlantean?

She realized that during the past few seconds she had been thinking really weird stuff just because someone asked her a rather simple question. Maybe he was just nervous too and thought he'd converse with someone during his last few minutes as a free man. So it didn't take many moments until she half lturned around again.

"Badly. Who really wants to be rounded up like this?" she mumbled to him, and then turned back again.
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Old January 18th, 2012 (07:21 PM).
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Nikolai was going to New Zealand. Really? Last he checked he was going to France. When the airport worker Natalia said to follow him, Nikolai was sure their cover had been blown, but Natalia just motioned for him to follow, which Nikolai did while trying to hide his confused look. The worker led them to a plane smaller than most of the others, and then said to Natalia, "May the Universe bring you luck." An Atlantean, probably why Natalia had remained calm through the entire thing. They boarded the jet, and immediately Nikolai heard "Natty!" Nikolai was quickly introduced to Annie, the woman who's phone he had hacked, as well as the pilot Cooper. Nikolai found Annie interesting, a redhead in a wheelchair, proboably American, and seemed to talk almost as fast as she typed. Almost.

Cooper brought out some food, some delicious chicken curry, rice, and some bread. Although being Russian, he had quite diverse tastes and enjoyed all kinds of food, especially Indian. Nikolai smiled as Annie asked him to show her his ability, which would definitely interest a techie like Annie. Cooper told him to rest though, and he did feel a bit tired. It had been a long day indeed, only this morning he had been at his table eating breakfast, and now he was in an airplane taking off, heading for France to join a secret organization. It had been probably the most eventful day of his life.

Nikolai looked over at Natalia when she asked if he had any more questions. He thought for a moment, then asked, "Why? I understand what you are doing, sort of. But why? From what I understand, you are taking in other Atlanteans and keeping them from getting involved with the Royal Family or the human government. But why are we doing this?"
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Old January 19th, 2012 (01:20 AM). Edited January 19th, 2012 by SV.
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Leon Nef- Syndicate Headquarters

There were two of them. There was also another man with Leon. He didn't know the circumstance around it, but something compelled him to move forward, into the area. He walked up to one, who was talking on his cell phone, and immediately the man dropped to the ground, cowering at the sight of Leon. Both men were in front of him, pleading for their lives. Leon's companion, a man with no face, took out his gun, and shot the first right in the head. Muttering something to Leon, he pointed at the second man on the floor. A second later, he felt electricity swarm over his hands as he raised it and pointed it at the man begging for his life on the floor, and then he paused.

Could he do it? Could he kill a man who stood between him and his goal, and innocent one? One who never did anything wrong, except be at the wrong place at the wrong time? Was he that kind of person? Was he that kind of man?

Leon opened his eyes, awakening from the dream by the sound of someone coming into the hospital room. He checked his pulse and all other vitals. A few seconds later, the Directive walked in. Leon rolled his eyes as he came. He didn't like him, that was for sure. There was also another man behind the Directive. This one, Leon did not know.

The Directive began speaking, in an oddly less sour personality than the one before. Quickly, he sent Jeremy on a new assignment. Jeremy accepted, giving Leon a smile before departing, a smile that wasn't really returned. The Directive then tossed clothes to Leon.

“I got your size from the torn up clothes you had on, so they should fit. As far as aesthetics and style go, I chose what I figured you would wear. It was deducted from your wages.”

Indeed, they were definitely his style. He went to go change clothes behind the curtain. Taking off the hospital clothes, Leon check to see if the necklace he had on was still there, and was satisfied to see it still around his neck. There was a long story behind the necklace, a bloody one. The other clothes included a white undershirt, a dark blue collared shirt, and blue jeans.

“Once you have finished getting dressed, I have someone here who will be looking after you today. If I were you, I would try to not keep him waiting.” The Directive said.

"I need a babysitter now?" Leon said smirking from behind the curtain. He sighed as he was fully dressed. Hiding the necklace underneath his undershirt and collared shirt, he stepped out.

The Directive introduced Leon now to a man known as Dr. Joshua Meier. Leon merely looked at him, not saying anything at the moment. When the Directive asked if he needed any questions answered from him, Leon was going to say something, but decided against it, not really up for another slap to the face. With that, the Directive departed, and Leon was left with the Doctor.

"So...what are we going to be doing today?" He asked.
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Old January 19th, 2012 (03:16 PM). Edited January 26th, 2012 by Skymin.
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Atticus Forsberg - Stockholm, Sweden

"Utmärkt," Atticus replied with a sheepish grin. "Nobody but cattle should be treated like this. And even then."

At least he could get the gist of what she wanted. She wanted to go, get out. And Atticus wanted the same thing, though he wasn't sure how she would feel about joining an undercover organisation like the AUP. Oh well, he'd play this all by ear. Of course, he had no plan. That was definitely not going to stop him. He mimiced what the girl had done before and stepped a few steps out of line. The officer approached him, naturally.

"Is there a problem, sir?" the policeman asked, frowning only slighly. His eyes quickly examined Atticus' body, looking for any kind of lump or weapon on his body.

"Nej, officer," Atticus took another step forward. The officer only hardened his face, preparing himself for any sudden moves. "I was just wondering... how good you are at fighting!" Atticus threw a fist forward, only to be met with the officer's hand. He swung his other hand, but that too was stopped by a hand. The officer gripped them hard and stared at Atticus, smiling a little like he had won this fight. But this fight wasn't over yet. Atticus grinned, pulling out his only trump card; his hairless tail unravelled itself from under his shirt and snapped forward, coiling around the officer's gun and taking it from the holster. The policeman let go of his left hand to grab the gun but missed, giving Atticus enough time to pull the gun from his tail and point it at the officer. He immediately let go of Atticus' other arm, raising his hands in the air. Atticus stepped back and grabbed the girl, wrapping his tail around her so she couldn't pull free and put the gun to her head.

"Ingen rör sig!" Atticus yelled out, moving the gun back and forward between the girl's temple, the policeman, other Atlanteans and the policemen stranding at the front of the line. "Ingen flytta eller jag skjuter!" People in the line began to scurry out of his way as Atticus stepped back, pulling the girl in the direction of his car, which still was a good hundred metres away. "This is your ticket out," he said quickly into her ear, hoping she wouldn't use those arms of hers to rip Atticus' head off. "If you want to get out, just follow what I do, just follow my lead. I can take you somewhere safe, somewhere safe for people like us. Okay?"

Natalia Zaytsev - Vitebsk, Belarus

"Why? I understand what you are doing, sort of. But why? From what I understand, you are taking in other Atlanteans and keeping them from getting involved with the Royal Family or the human government. But why are we doing this?"

Natalia glanced over at Annie, who had now slumped further into her chair. Annie, who hadn't even moved her eyes from the screen, nodded as she typed.

"The plane was built at HQ so it's clean. I checked," she replied in English as the lights dimmed, the light clicking of levers and buttons could be heard from the cockpit and the plane lurched forward a little smoothly. "You'd have to ask Cooper if you can actually tell him."

"It is fine," his voice buzzed over the PA, also in English. Natalia smiled a little at his accent; it was one of the warmest British accents she had ever heard. "Consider him inducted, but tread lightly. Tell him as much as a junior greenhorn would need to know."

"Alright," the plane hummed and Natalia felt her ears pop as they rose higher. She turned back to Afon, continuing in Russian. "Like I told you earlier today, the Atlantean Unification Project strives to unite Atlanteans as a singular race. Mortals have always looked down on us with jealous eyes. Once we have the numbers and the power, we can stand on our feet without being beat down. We will be independant from mortals, like we were meant to be. The first step to independance, like any being, is separation. And we will start this separation by building our own country. Our own Atlantis. New Atlantis, if you will. Here, we can truely be our own people, away from the judging, mortal eyes." She sighed. There was so much in her past that made her want this dream to be a reality. "This is why. We are not mortals and nor should we live by their laws."

"That is enough for now," Cooper's voice buzzed again in English, a slight tinge of worry ringing in his tone. "I think we should all get some sleep for now. We all have a big day ahead of us tomorrow." All of the lights in the plane faded, the only light coming from Annie's laptop as she tapped away.

"Okay," Natalia said, nodding to Afon. She pushed a button on her chair, which made it lean back and fold out into a comfortable kind of chair-bed and leant back into it. "Good night, Afon."
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Old January 21st, 2012 (05:08 PM).
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Jeremy Kyle – Seville, Spain



Jeremy’s first assignment took him to Spain, and even in the midst of winter it was still quite warm outside. Lounging in the hotel room he had teleported into from across the road, he opened up and examined the first of the three manila folders he had been given. Spreading its contents across the floor of the room, he began to learn all that he could about the particular girl he was to ‘recruit’ for the Syndicate.

“Caruso, Ludmilla. Fifteen years old.” He muttered to himself as he toyed his lip with his thumb. As always, Jeremy tried to take the most pacifistic approach when it came to recruiting fellow Atlanteans. To him, they would be more likely to join this way, and it severely dropped his chances of getting hurt by quite a bit. He continued to read on about her family, history, practically nearly every minute detail about her; including her ability.

“Pyro aura?” he questioned the empty room. Jeremy had never heard of such a diverse ability before, nor did he know how to deal with all, the only solutions he could come up with ended up in him getting hurt somehow. If anything, his only chance would be to improvise, something Jeremy was not overly comfortable with and not exactly good at either. If anything did go wrong, he had three other targets to recruit, it would be just as easy to leave her and gather someone else.

After nearly half an hour of reading, he knew almost every detail of Lumilla’s life, enough to know that at this point in time, she would be at her house, or at least the park beside it. Packing the papers back into the folder, Jeremy placed them back into his bag, and once zipped up, he teleported out of hotel room with a single ‘pop’ as the door clicked open and a newly married couple swung in through the door and onto the bed.

Sitting on the room opposite Lumilla’s house, Jeremy watched as the members of her family went about their daily routine, Jeremy whispering to himself the next thing that they would do, until someone caught his breath. He swore violently under his breath as he watched on of the Atlantean Unification Project’s members dine with Ludmilla’s family for breakfast. The AUP had been very quick to retrieve this girl, and the presence of their member made Jeremy sweat, it was something he was hoping hadn’t happened. He wasn’t prepared to take on an AUP member, and so he decided to wait until they left, it looked like he would have to take the girl forcefully now.

It was another fifteen minutes until the two departed, weaving their way through the crowded streets of lower class Seville. He followed them, teleporting from rooftop to rooftop as they walked below him, unaware of his presence. He looked on ahead, trying to figure out their trajectory; the only notable site they were heading for would be San Pablo Airport, only a few minutes away. Trying to find the two in an airport would be trickier than trying to follow them on foot, but having the height gave him and advantage; in the airport would be much harder. He had to do something before they made it to the airport, or he would have to report a failure to the Directive….he shuddered at the backlash he would receive from it. So instead he looked up ahead, there was a small clearing, like a square in the centre of town, the two ladies were heading straight for it, it would be there that Jeremy would make his move.

He was quick, but not quick enough. As soon as the girls had made it into the park, Jeremy teleported down from the rooftop and behind the younger girl, hoping to take them by surprise. He was about to wrap is arms around the girl and teleport off with her when the older one pulled her out of his reach and kicked him square in the stomach, sending him flying backwards. She pushed the girl behind her in an attempt to protect her from Jeremy, but he laughed, before teleporting out of sight.

Camilla glanced around furiously, trying to find where Jeremy was as he sat up in the tree, deciding his next move. He knew that she wouldn’t leave the park until she knew he was gone, so she would stay in front of the cowering girl in vain hope to fend him off. He teleported again above then, coming crashing down on Camilla before teleporting to the side. Camilla groaned at she hit the ground, but her reflexes kicked in, and as Jeremy teleported from the side towards Ludmilla, she spat at Ludmilla, just in time as Jeremy’s face appeared in front of Ludmilla.

Camilla smiled wickedly as Jeremy wiped the saliva off of his face, “that’s disgusting you B***” he swore at her before he fell forward.

Behind him, Ludmilla had fired her fire aura into Jeremy’s back, knocking him forward and burning the back of his shirt. People had now gathered to watch the fight, and policemen stalked around the outside, keeping people from getting too close to the fray and ready to jump in when ready.

Jeremy teleported away as he got up off the ground, the girl’s attack had stunned him briefly. He teleported in for one more attempt, this time he appeared behind Camilla’s back, tapped her on the shoulder and teleported away as she swivelled around to attack him, reappearing behind Ludmilla. He clasped his hand over her mouth as she let out a small yelp, before he teleported again with Ludmilla in tow. What he hadn’t counted on, was Camilla launching herself at him, and at the moment of teleportation, Ludmilla fell out of his grasp as he flailed about and grapped the closest appendage. There was the all too familiar pop from his teleporting, but also the unmistakeable rip of flesh and bone.

Standing a few metres away, Jeremy dropped the arm in his hands to the ground before vomiting up beside it. He looked over to find Camilla rolling around on the ground screaming in pain as Ludmilla stood horrified. Jeremy took this chance and teleported behind Ludmilla, grabbing her again.

This time, there was the same teleportation pop Jeremy always made, but it was accompanied by a loud bang as the gun shot rang out silencing everything. Jeremy quickly dropped Ludmilla to the ground before teleporting away to the top on one of the surrounding rooftops. He gazed at the blood on his shirt, feeling around the blood splatter at the tender skin around it. Horror struck his as he realised that it wasn’t his blood; Ludmilla had taken the shot. He watched from on high as paramedics ran towards the middle of the park where two women lay motionless on the ground. Jeremy cursed profusely before teleporting out of Spain, arriving in a toilet that only really he used for teleportation purposes. He punched the wall and cursed profusely loudly in anger at not only his failure of the mission, but also at the death of the two Atlanteans.

It was only seconds before he began to hallucinate. The adrenaline racing through his body had faded from his system, keeping the invading hallucinogens from reacting, but now they bloomed like flowers in his brain. Jeremy grasped his head in pain as the room swam, bright colours sliding along the walls and apparitions from his past taking form right in front of him. They started early, Ludmilla Caruso and Carmilla stood before him, haunting him in wake of their deaths. Then came the men Leon had killed, he had taken Leon to where they were, he was the one who had let Leon loose on them. The final was one he was not expecting to see. Jeremy didn’t know if she was dead or alive, but she haunted him in the same way the others did. He watched as the toilet around him faded away as he was taken back to the day the Directive had shown him what would have happened to his high school sweetheart. He watched over and over again as he witnessed all their deaths in succession.

Jeremy awoke lying down on the floor of the toilet. He touched the walls, he looked around frantically, but what he had seen had not been real. It had been a dream, a nightmare; a drug trip. He replayed in his memory the wicked smile Camilla had given him after spitting in his face. It took seconds to put two and two together; her saliva was a hallucinogen.

“May the Universe grant you a good afterlife” he whispered under his breath in lieu of the deaths. He had unintentionally caused the deaths of five members of his own race. Right now he could not forgive himself for what he had done, but he still had several tasks ahead of him, he had failed this time, but determination crept it, “I will not fail this time!” he yelled at the Universe.

Jeremy teleported for the umpteenth time today, going from the toilet in Bristol to his room at the Syndicate Headquarters where he proceeded to change clothes then once changed, to the waiting room of the Atlantean Centre in London where his next recruit would be. Within a matter of minutes the American Jason Weaver, commonly known as ‘Wym’ walked through the door and took a seat. Jeremy closed his folder on the recruit before getting up to join Jason.

“You don’t seem to be too happy about being here, what’s your name?” Jeremy asked in his soft British accent, the memories of today already beginning to fade.
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