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  #101    
Old February 12th, 2012 (02:59 AM).
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Helena Andersson - Stockholm, Sweden

"The magazine should be on the back seat somewhere. Push it in the handgrip and then-" Atticus swerved around another corner as a bullet hit the top mirror, "-then pull the top part back and then it's loaded. So don't shoot yourself. It's as easy as the movies! Goddamnit!!" Another bullet hit the side of Atticus' chair, grazing against his arm.

"Atticus! Are you ok?" Helena immediately said. But he didn't seem to be worse than her. And she was ok. She glanced at the seat beside her. A magazine lay there. So that was what they looked like. She picked it up and took the pistol, shoving the magazine into the handgrip and pulled the top part back like Atticus had instructed. It clicked. So that was it?

Atticus just mashed a button on the dashboard and the screen lit up, initiating a call. Helena peeked over his shoulder to see. "Annie!! There are some people following us and we are in deep doo-doo here. Some assistance would be appreciated, please!" he called out to it, in English.

Another Atlantean? From his organization... whatever it was called now again. He had a panicked conversation with the lady named Annie on the other side and it sounded like they were talking about some other people. While Atticus was focused on the screen, Helena looked back through the now non-existing rear window. The black SUV was still following them. The gun was firmly held in her hand. This was all... a bit surreal.

"Are you okay, Helena?" Atticus called back to her in Swedish. "Did you load that gun okay? I'm sorry this is a really bad first impression but I promise that usually, it's all way better than this." If he turned around to look at her even briefly, he didn't see her. She had turned invisible again, and the gun in her hand was invisible too.

She focused, and then looked up from the seat, raising the invisible gun and pointing it at the car behind them. No other car was in the street now. That was probably for the best, she had no idea of how bad or good her aim would be. Another bullet whined past them but didn't hit the car. They couldn't see her. She was invisible. She had to focus on that. She was invisible. But still, she had to shift her focus slightly, to aim... And fire.
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  #102    
Old February 12th, 2012 (05:29 PM).
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Cira and Alexander Gaile - Gaile House - Olympia, Washington


Well, laying low for a time didn't exactly go so well. Alexander, Cira's father, was somewhat anxious to toy around with his new power. He spend this short free time going around the city, talking to random people and asking them to punch him in the gut while he held a small metal bar in his hand. Holding it made his skin as tough as iron and gave it a little iron-y tint, and if anyone was actually strange or confident enough to take him up on his offer, their fists hurt quite a bit afterwards. It also made him capable of punching through anything less durable than iron, which he used his free hand for. Fortunately, it was only junk he punched; nothing to worry about or pay for.

The son himself decided to stay out of school, going around on the internet and continuing to watch the news for any updates on the going-ons around the world with the Atlanteans. He'd also taken to practicing his own ability in his spare time, finding out he could direct things through the air, or at least things he could already lift. A sharpened pencil quickly became a mini-spear, and he could bring apples or other things to him by thinking about it, and a tree is... a tree. That thing ain't movin', let alone uprooting and flying through the sky like a javelin. Was he telekinetic? No, that wouldn't have been able to triple his running speed from what he could think of; plus, telekinesis may have actually been able to uproot the tree. Then he started to think about where he and his dad should go, since there's no doubt the cops/scientists/U.S. government will be rounding up as many Atlanteans as possible to use/study/abuse their abilities, and the people who showed them off would be the first victims.

Yesterday - Olympia, WA Atlantean Center


The father-son pair found themselves waiting in line near a hospital, though the line was going into the building next to it. People were getting turned away disappointed, and a few others were brought inside. After a jab in the arm with a needle and growing a little white bump from it, Alex and Cira joined the few. Inside was pretty much just a waiting room, like the hospital's next door. Plenty of semi-comfortable chairs, a couple tables with magazines on them, and Atlanteans all sitting and waiting for something; one was notably exhaling steam in deep breaths. They were called into another room one by one and most left the building afterwards, until there were just a few left. "Alexander and... Kyrah Guyle?"

The pair stood up and walked over to the woman calling them, where Cira corrected her pronunciation. "It's See-rah Gay-ll, actually."

"Whatever. Come with me." A little annoyedly, she led them into a nearly empty room. It was just a long table and three chairs, all of which were occupied. The one in the center stood up. She didn't look any older than twenty-five, and had a pretty face and short hair to go alongside an otherwise normal, fit body. She noticeably had a black tattoo of what supposedly showed the result of a recent stitching along her neck, and introduced herself as Tasha.

"I'm in charge of collecting the information of the Atlanteans residing here in Washington." Tasha raised one of her hands to her throat and traced the index finger along her mark, the two men at either side of her trying to not pay attention to it. "As you've probably seen it by now, I have stitches around my neck; that's my tattoo. I have the power of Psychometry. If I touch something, I can find out all the information associated with it, like who possessed it and where it came from, among other things." She looked proud of having that kind of capability. Something like that could be pretty useful for a detective or something. "So... Cira, correct?" She looked at the younger of the two in front of her. "Could you show me your tattoo and tell me what your power is?"

He opened his palms to Tasha, showing her the pair of eyes in them, but the latter half of that question was a tough one. He wondered about what it was called himself. "I can move stuff, I guess." They probably got the telekinesis idea, since he didn't really clarify it, "But it's not telekinesis. I mean, I managed to speed myself up to a good three, maybe four times my normal running speed when I first used it; but it's not just moving myself like super speed, I can move other things around, too." He needed an example... "Dad, do you still have that bar on hand?"

"As a matter of fact, I do!" Alex pulled the iron bar from the past week out of his pocket and he quickly absorbed its properties, standing at the ready like an eager private in the military. Cira looked to the table, where the two extra Atlanteans (why were they there anyways? Are they bodyguards or something?) had unused clipboards. He motioned one hand at them by closing his palm and jerking it back, and they stacked on top of each other before both flew at his father's head. (He didn't really need his hands to use his ability, but Cira finds that it becomes much more fluid that way.) Alexander simply stood there, completely unphased as the clipboards broke in half against his forehead and landed against the wall behind him. He set the iron bar back in his pocket and pulled out a wrist-sized ring of tangled rubber bands, noting, "I've also started keeping this around in case metal didn't do the trick. Hope your mother doesn't mind."

"Okay," Tasha muttered as she tried to start up again, writing on her thankfully undamaged clipboard, "so Cira can move things, presumably including himself, without the use of telekinesis, and Alexander can absorb the properties of whatever he can get his hands on." She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "We have a safe haven for Atlanteans of all kinds where they can learn to use their powers better. If you're willing to come with us to England, we can have you both situated immediately. If not, we'll simply release you with your new IDs."

Olympia, WA to Florence, Italy


Both Cira and Alexander decided they should get some time to think about it and stay under the radar for a little while (as if Alex followed that before), and Tasha gave them her number in case they chose to go through with it. They were also given their Atlantean registration cards, practically the same as a regular state driver's license, with the addition of their tattoos in the background.

Cira now believed it would be a good idea to take Tasha up on her offer, under the premonition that someone will want to kidnap some Atlanteans soon enough; humanity was unpredictable, but it almost always wants more power. He dug for the slip of paper with Tasha's phone number on it and called her. She answered Cira's inquiry about if they could get a flight out soon with, "There's one en route to Florence tonight," to which Cira was a little too delighted to hear, "and you can take a train to London from there the next day." Cira anxiously accepted; even if he was only going to be in Italy for a few hours, it was still a visit to Italy. "That's good. I'll notify the people in charge there about your arrival; I don't think they're much for surprises." He barely managed to pack his own stuff AND get Alex to pack, too, but otherwise, the taxi ride to the Regional Airport and the flying was pretty smooth. (Though Alex had to literally steel his stomach to keep from getting airsick.)
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  #103    
Old February 12th, 2012 (08:41 PM).
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Nikolai Afon - Somewhere above Europe

Nikolai listened intently to the unfolding events. Annie had answered a cell phone call, and suddenly everything seemed to be panicked. Some other AUP agent was in trouble, somebody named Atticus, and something involving a car chase. They were speaking in English, and Nikolai could not keep up with so many words so fast. Thankfully, Natalia switched back to Russian, and the headache of translating disappeared. The two began arguing about him, and whether or not he should help. After a moment, Cooper called out from the pilot seat and said that Nikolai should, but he had already made up his mind. If he could help with his power, he would.

From what he had gathered, he was needed to stop a car chase. Easier said than done. Many of a car's components were automated throguh computer control, but most would be useless to him. Changing the radio station for example would not be helpful at all. Other things may prove useful, like the anti-lock brake system, or perhaps the acceleration. Nevertheless, Nikolai quickly walked over to Annie, and looked at the computer screen, where she was making a connection to the computer on their agent's car. Nikolai closed his eyes and focused on the computer, allowing himself to be pulled once more into the world of technology.

The link was already made to the target car, so finding that was easy. Knowing that he had little time to do what was necessary, he quickly formulated a plan. He stretched his mind out from the car, searching for one particular thing. He was not dissapointed. Within seconds of searching, the car blew through an intersection. Nikolai quickly switched from the car to the traffic grid through the traffic light. He quickly spread his mind out from there, reaching out as far as he could, displaying a mental picture of about a two mile radius represented by large dots of light that were intersections connected by lines, linking them together.

From there he accesed the traffic cams, cycling through them as fast as he could comprehend them, until he found one where he saw a man reaching out of a window holding a gun. Well then, Nikolai thought, you must be my target. Nikolai searched once more, cycling through the traffic cams ahead of the friendly car until he found once more what he was looking for, a large semi hauling a large container, approaching an intersection where the two paths would intersect. Nikolai did some quick calculations, and nodded to himself. This would work.

Nikolai then switched all of the traffic lights for a mile ahead of the AUP car green, making a clear path for them. Next, while still maintaining a connection with the traffic grid, he linked with the semi, and quickly cycled through his options. First, he told the computer in the car to desregard any signals from the brake pedals to the brakes. After that, he boosted the electronic power steering as far is it would go. Usually, the EPS is only slight, designed to make steering at slower speeds easier. But Nikolai made it so that the EPS was about twenty times stronger than it normally should be, and Nikolai hoped that it would be strong enough to overpower the driver as well.

Nikolai ordered the computer to floor the accelerator, and he took control of the semi through the EPS, and watched it through the traffic cameras to steer. It was sluggish, no doubt because of teh driver trying to control his vehicle, but fortunately Nikolai had been able to boost the EPS to a high enough level. But the timing was off. Nikolai had planned for the heavy semi to T-bone the chase vehicle, but the chase vehicle was going much to fast, and sped through the intersection. The semi did manage to hit the chase vehicle at about the rear tire though, sending it into a spin out, where it then bumped into another car in the incoming lane. Confusion was everywhere, and to add to it, Nikolai threw every intersection that the AUP car had passed already into all green, and the city turned into mass traffic confusion as panicked drivers honked their horns.

Nikolai gasped as he exited from the technology. He sucess had left him tired and exhausted. Ignoring Natalia and Annie, he sunk into a chair, only saying, "It's done."
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  #104    
Old February 12th, 2012 (08:53 PM).
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Joshua Meier – Syndicate Headquarters, Birmingham, England



Joshua was glad when Leon announced he was ready to get back to training, personally he was looking forward to training with Leon; his orders had been to teach Leon as much as he could in a single day, and more. It also meant that he was not breathing down the backs of the other scientists; they had been working on the project for over a week now, the date being well past their estimated completion. But then again, it was only an estimate. All he wanted was it to be finished, so it could be tested and used, the Boss was adamant that it needed to be constructed as soon as possible, after all the Blind Prophet had brought them the schematics….

Recovering from the train of thought, Joshua led Leon back into the control room and down the stairs to the training room. They had succeeded with the volleys, both had become tired trough the training due to lack of energy, but now reinvigorated by the food in his system, Joshua switched back into a training mode. The next thing on his agenda: splitting.

Again, he stood opposite Leon, a metre or two between them, “Now that you can volley with your electricity, we will move onto the next step. As with anything you will need to practice it outside of this training room, but for now I will teach you as much as possible.” He signalled to one of the workers in the overlooking window and they flicked a switch; two targets appearing out of holes in the wall.

“Now I want you to try splitting the energy inside yourself before firing it back out again. This will be extremely helpful when you have two or more targets; like now for instance,” he motioned to the targets, “you will need to break the electricity inside you, coagulating the two new forms of electricity in each hand then firing one at each other.” He mimicked the act with his hands, bringing them into a ball then pulling them apart. He was hoping Leon would be able to achieve something even close to this.

“When you’re ready,” he said to Leon, before standing behind him, out of range.
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  #105    
Old February 13th, 2012 (06:23 AM). Edited February 14th, 2012 by Skymin.
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"Otto" - Florence, Italy

She had always liked the train, the beat to it, the steady movement, the repetition of it all. When she was on it, time just seemed to slip by as she listened to the rails against the wheels, the stampede of people getting on and off, the monotonous voice of the conductor, either asking to see her ticket again or telling the entire station which was the next station. She felt unseen on the station, away from judging eyes. Nobody frowned at her hair, nobody sniffed at her piercings, nobody tutted at her tattoos. Everyone had seen it all before. It was the one place where the weird was accepted.

But she wasn't on the train for her own benefit, no. Today, it was for a real reason. She had been sent here on a mission, to find someone. Well, two someones. They were here, on this train from Florence to London. It was an odd pick of transport, especially for this kind of thing. A six hour train trip on an express train. Wouldn't it be easier if they took a plane? Didn't the Royal Family have about six thousand of those?

She had been on this train for a while, just waiting for those two someones to get on. As far as she had been told, they were on this train, then heading to London, then getting escorted to Boston to the Royal Family mansion. It was kind of ridiculous. They were free. Why did they want to go back to the jail that was the Royal Family.

She barely even batted an eye as she watched the two someones get on the train, putting their luggage above them and sitting in a quad seat, conversing quietly. Cira and Alexander Gaile. They were an interesting duo and their Atlantean heritage only made them more intriguing. Their file had been a good read. Abilities which allowed them to control (or attempt to control) the laws of physics? It was cool.

When the train had started moving, she got up from her lone seat next to the door and slowly stepped over to the father and son, swaying with the train. She invited herself to their conversation, taking a seat next to the boy, Cira. She looked so out of place, with her 'half'-mohawk, her tattoos of sakura trees, dragons, demons and smoke down her arms with a huge spiral on the left side of her head, seen on her scalp through the shaved part of her hair. She was dressed rather rattily, a singlet top, ripped skinny jeans and a pair of ruined shoes. Her piercings were odd, one on her eyebrow (or lack of. She had no eyebrows) and at least nine or ten on her ears.

"Hello," she said, her accent a strong Italian. "Where are you headed?"
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Old February 13th, 2012 (11:29 AM).
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Cira & Alex Gaile - Florence, Italy


The two had a few hours to kill before they had to board the train to London, so they toured Florence for a little while. While they were there, the pair split up and agreed to meet at the station before the train arrived, leaving the luggage there for safe-keeping and keeping some cash on hand. Cira took his language classes to heart, making a few friends and hitting on a few cute girls, along with getting a group to show him around, while Alex's attention and face went straight into the cuisine. The latter didn't need to know any Italian to track the smell of a good calzone and order one (or two and a salad) for himself.

Cira spent some of the time looking for souvenirs, and getting something to eat. On the search for a something to take home with him (if they ever had the chance to go back), the boy started to wonder what he'd be doing right now had he not been Atlantean. He'd probably be in school, finishing up his last year. He wanted to be a therapist, maybe for PTSD soldiers or troubled teens. Probably wouldn't have been a good one since he could've come off as rude a lot, but a therapist nonetheless.

"Out of time, I guess," the want-to-be therapist noted to himself as he checked his pocketwatch. He picked out a pair of keychains with a bird's-eye view of Florence painted onto it and a chain-attached wallet, bid a friendly "grazie" and "arrivederci" to the girls who showed him around, and went to the station, where his father was sleeping on a bench, "guarding" the luggage under his arms. Waiting for the train, Cira attached the keychains to both of their bags, and slipped the wallet into his front left pocket, chaining it to the belt loop above the opening. Thankfully, the sound of the train arriving woke Alex up, because Cira wasn't too sure how to do so without risking a slap in the gut or face.

When they got onto the train, they took a nearly empty car, inhabited by only a few people at the moment, and put up their luggage, sitting across from each other and talking about their past couple hours. Soon enough after the train took off, the arguably strangest-looking person walked up and took a seat next to the son. "Hello," she started with a heavy accent. "Where are you headed?" She had sort of a goth feel to her with all the piercings, but the cherry blossom tree she had tattooed to her arm (against the many other designs like dragons and demons) dismissed some of it. Some of her hair was shaved off, too, leaving a spiral tattoo showing on the scalp. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it seems like shaving a portion of a person's head would be more prank-worthy than a sort of fashion.

"London," he answered, "and yourself?"
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  #107    
Old February 14th, 2012 (04:26 AM). Edited February 16th, 2012 by Skymin.
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Atticus Forsberg - Stockholm, Sweden

Atticus heard a bang from the back seat, only to see the car behind's tyre burst. A gunshot? That must have been Helena, as she flicked in and out of visibility. Atticus counted his stars as the next few blocks of intersections went miraculously green, just as they began to gain distance between them and the car. He thought they could outrun them, that they finally had a chance. That was until the car was rear-ended by a semi trailer and spun out of control, swerving off into traffic. Atticus wasn't sure if they survived the crash or not, but didn't stop to check it out. He sped ahead through the green lights, watching to the left and right as Stockholm became a complete mess. Cars stopped everywhere and a small crash at the intersection they passed, it was a little sad to see, but he couldn't think about it too long. He had to get Helena to safety.

"Annie, what was that?" Atticus said in English to his dashboard.

"Some help, courtesy of Nikolai Afon. Say spasibo!"

"Uh," spasibo? What did that even mean? Was that Russian? "spasibo?"

"Good. Now, head towards your GPS location. Should be the closest airport. We'll meet you there, okay? Cool!" and with that, the call cut out. What did she mean by "we'll"? Geez, Annie was a confusing girl. It didn't help when Atticus wasn't that great with his brain and she was practically a genius. He gave a heavy sigh, slowing down with the traffic as it flowed back into normality. That was way too much excitement for one day. He nodded, his music now on the last song. It would have been way cooler if that was up full boar while in that chase. Maybe.

"Thanks so much, Helena," Atticus smiled at his rear view mirror, trying to find Helena in it. "You did really great, really really great. Thankfully, we can breathe for now and get on a really nice plane and kind of rest for a little, y'know? We'll be at the airport in..." he glanced at the GPS, "about ten or twenty. Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?" Because if she was hurt, that was definitely first priority. Other than not dying.

Natalia Zaytsev - Somewhere over Europe

"Good. Now, head towards your GPS location. Should be the closest airport. We'll meet you there, okay? Cool!" Annie tapped a key on her keyboard, closing the call off. What a close call indeed. Natalia looked at Afon as he slumped into the chair, closing his eyes in exhaustion. She felt a little bad for doubting him, but she had her reasons. Look at him now! He was utterly exhausted. What would happen if he pushed himself too far? Did it mean death? Afon had only had his power for just over a week. He wasn't an expert and Natalia knew she couldn't dependant on him in every situation. He needed to learn first. And that's where they were going now.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Natalia bent down to her knees, placing a hand on Afon's forehead. He was a little hot, perhaps a little feverish. Did opening his mind to a computer open his body to other things? Was this a side effect, or just exhaustion? Another reason why getting to AUP base was a better idea than being in the air for so long. "Do you need anything, water, food?"

"We'll be arriving at the Stockholm-Bromma Airport in approximately ten minutes," Cooper's voice came over the plane once again. "I'd advise you buckle up until we safely land."
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Old February 14th, 2012 (05:02 AM).
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Helena Andersson - Stockholm, Sweden

Her shot had hit a tyre on the other car. Helena was shocked by the slight recoil from the gun and just as she had fired, Atticus turned the vehicle enough for the tense Helena to fall over to the side in the backseat. She dropped the gun to the floor and lay there for a moment. She heard Atticus converse briefly in English with the woman on the screen again. She understood English well, most swedes did. But right now she needed to breathe normally again. She had just fired a gun for the first time in her life, for god's sake. And she'd hit. Well, not that she had aimed particularly for the tyre, just in the general area of the pursuing car. But still, nobody needed to know that.

Her body turned completely visible again, after having flickered for a while, and she sat up and put on the seatbelt that she had taken off before. Atticus glanced back at her in the rear mirror. She nodded as to say that she was alive.

"Thanks so much, Helena," he smiled to her as she drove quickly through several intersections where the light miraculously was green. "You did really great, really really great."

She wasn't that great, was she? All she had done was pick up a gun. She nodded again, starting to come back to her sane senses.

He continued. "Thankfully, we can breathe for now and get on a really nice plane and kind of rest for a little, y'know? We'll be at the airport in..." he glanced at the GPS, "about ten or twenty. Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?"

She shook her head now. "No. I'm alright. Wait..." She put her hand on her arm again. The jacked was torned and she was bleeding. "I think I got hit. But only a little. It doesn't hurt much at all, it's just... bleeding a little." A little, well, the inside of her jacket would soon smell really bad unless she cleaned it well. She took the jacked off and revealed the blouse she was wearing beneath.
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Old February 15th, 2012 (01:39 AM).
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River Beleren – Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England



River watched as one by one her new recruits approached the buffet table and gathered food before joining her at the rather large circular table she occupied. First to approach was Michael, followed by Oakley, Christian with Antonia following quickly behind him and finally Chrysta taking up the rear. It was only a couple of minutes after they had all taken a seat at the table and started eating that Justin and most of his quad bike crew turned up, and with a brief contact of eyes with River, Justin guided his group to a table away from theirs. River surveyed her table; Oakley sat as far away from the group as she could at the other end while her brother Michael sat only one seat away from River. To her left sat Chrysta eating slowly and sullenly by herself while two seats away from her, Christian and Antonia were chatting about random topics. All in all, they didn’t seem too shocked by the previous night’s events; the most being Chrysta who was more shocked about having to leave her family. They were all safe now. River watched as one of Justin’s crew members glanced over to their table, excusing himself to join River’s table, sitting next to Oakley. Justin looked at River, but she gave him a nod of approval; not to worry.

River recognised the boy as Kieran, one of the recruits Blayze had gone to pick up in Germany when he had unfortunately met a possible informant whom soon became a living bomb, destroying much of Berlin and becoming a catalyst for the Atlantean Registration Act. Kieran had somehow miraculously survived the explosion while his parents perished when their hotel room had been destroyed in the blast. By the time the backup crew had arrived he was muttering something about a younger brother, but they had no record of him ever having a sibling.

She watched him take a seat next to Oakley, his jacket unzipped revealing a black shirt with the logo of some band printed onto it. He carefully positioned his arms; his right arm lying flatly on the table while his left which was closer to Oakley was slung over the back of his chair. They soon began to talk after Kieran introduced himself, eventually pulling up his leather jacket sleeve to reveal his ability to Oakley. Here they could be open with their abilities without the fear of adverse reactions from others; no one here was different for having an Atlantean ability, they all had one in one way or another. A brief glance over at Michael showed that he wasn’t overly pleased about Kieran’s interaction with Oakley.

River turned back to Kieran, his ability was an interesting one. In a week since they had revealed themselves from amongst the public, he had grown twin blades of bone alongside the outer edge of his arms. They were attached to his arms through three pieces of bone that stuck out little more than a centimetre from his skin while the blades themselves stretched from one tip ending just past his elbow, the other end finishing at his wrist. Despite being bone, the blades were extremely calcified; meaning they were both as strong as steel and as sharp as any blade out there. The skin had all but healed around the bones that connected the blades to the bones inside his arm, leaving red rings around the base. From what she had heard from other sources, Kieran’s bone swords had pushed outwards from his bones, through the muscles and lastly the skin; a somewhat excruciatingly painful process.

River turned her attention away from Kieran and back onto the group as a whole, clearing her voice as they all turned to listen to what she had to say. “Now that we have eaten, it is time we continued on to the Orientation. For you all sitting here today, this will be your new home. I understand that you have parents, siblings, families, but as long as you are with them, they are in trouble.” She made sure to make eye contact with them one by one.

“At this point of time, there are three main players in this secret war to hoard a new resource; Atlanteans. What happened in Berlin was a catalyst created by a secretive organisation called ‘The Syndicate’. Essentially they train Atlanteans to become spies, mercenaries for hire to anyone who has the money. Behind them is the Atlantean Unification Project, while their motives are unclear at this point, from what we can deduct, they wish to unite all Atlanteans as a singular race, separating themselves from the outside world as an exclusive, select group.” It was adamant that they knew recruits needed to know the opposition they were up against. “We, the Atlantean Royal Family, on the other hand want to train you all to better control your abilities. We work slowly to train as many people as possible, so that Atlanteans and humans can coexist in a world together.”

River looked around at them all, feeling sorry for the kind of world they were being thrown into. Unlike her, they hadn’t been trained for their whole lives, but incoming events had forced them to come out to the public.

“If you have any questions, feel free to ask them now before we move on, there is much to get done.” She gave a little smile hoping it would lessen their apprehension a bit. In the end, she had their best interests at heart.


Michael Cale – Atlantean Mansion, Boston, England



Michael watched out the corner of his eye as the person who had given Oakley a lift walked over to their table and joined Oakley with breakfast. The two began chatting, the guy eventually revealing the blades on his arms to Oakley as his Atlantean ability. Michael felt a pang of sadness inside; this guy could connect with Oakley more than he could, his ability was an offensive version of her own, but the fact that the two had abilities that would never go away was something they had in common. Something Michael did not share with Oakley. He inwardly curse himself for not having better control over his ability, not just that but for also having such a useless ability. Back in the Registration facility, River had talked about them all being useful and apparently powerful, but being able to see through objects was just as useless as being normal…..being human.

Michael felt like ditching, running off to go cry somewhere alone by himself, but River had other things planned for them, something to do with orientation, not that he was listening to her words at all, they just seemed to never reach him. Oakley was his only family now, and even that seemed tenuous given their past of separation, he had no one close to him, no one he could miss, and no one to love him.

When River had finished talking, he remained silent, ready to move on to the next part of the Orientation River had planned out for them. No doubt some of the others had questions to ask, and it was almost as if on cue the American girl raised her hand, ready to ask a question. Like the Italian girl, Michael had not seen any display of her ability, and her separation from the others made him think that she was yet to display it.

“Will we get to see our parents again?” she asked through a shaking voice, obviously she had been split from her parents, which made Michael slightly angry that they had decided they had the authority to do that to people, but also envious that she had parents, people who loved and cared about her.

River’s reply was calm and collected; it almost made Michael angry that she even said it. “In due time, you will be able to return to your parents with greater control over your abilities.” The American merely nodded before returning to chasing the remains of her cereal around the bowl with her spoon.

Michael was starting to regret even going to the Atlantean Centre in the first place, his ability was so insignificant that he could have easily continued with University life without having ever met his sister. Getting drunk with his flatmates, hanging out with his friends and flirting with girls in his lecture theatres sudden seemed better than living in a remade hostel learning to control a weak ability.
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Old February 15th, 2012 (02:20 AM).
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Leon Nef- Syndicate Headquarters, Birmingham, England

Leon followed Joshua through the control room, where they would proceed through there and back into the training room. Before they went in, however, Leon decided to get an extra boost of energy. Sticking a hand up at one of the computers a scientist sat at, he absorbed the electrical power of the device, leaving it disfunctional and shut down. The scientist looked up a Leon, but before he could say anything, Leon merely shrugged his shoulders and gave the man a grin, and proceeded with Joshua down to the training room. He imagined that the scientist didn't try anything for one of two reasons. One, he was ordered not to, or two, he was afraid.

Leon and Joshua arrived in the training room, where Joshua stood facing Leon. The next part of the training began.

“Now I want you to try splitting the energy inside yourself before firing it back out again. This will be extremely helpful when you have two or more targets; like now for instance,”

Joshua pointed at a set of targets. Leon took a glance down at his hands, then back up at Joshua.

"You will need to break the electricity inside you, coagulating the two new forms of electricity in each hand then firing one at each other.”

Leon had never attempted two sets of electricity in both hands. He wondered for a moment if he would be able to do. Leon shrugged, thinking the best way to see is to try. Joshua stood to the side, out of range, and Leon faced the two targets. He took a deep breath, positioned his legs apart, and closed his eyes. From the outside, it appeared as though nothing was happening, but inside his body, his electrical energy was stirring and beginning to move around. Leon felt as the energy moved from towards his arms. Leon opened his eyes, and stuck out his arms. Electricity flooded both of his arms, and slowly moved up to the palms of his hands. The electricity was more erratic and chaotic than it was before in one hand. Leon struggled as he tried to control it into a more physical form to be released as an attack. If he tried to do it while it was still reacting strangely, the attack would explode in his face. Leon appeared to be getting the two electrical energies to form, but suddenly they exploded in his arms, the energy bouncing around the room before erupting in all directions

"Porco dio! Merda! Che cazzo vuoi!?" Leon cursed in his Italian tongue, hanging on to his arms, which appeared to have suffered some minor damage from the eruption of energy. Leon walked it off for a moment, before returning to the position he was at before. He shaked his arms, then studied them for a moment. He seemed to be deep in thought, then spoke.

"Hang on, let me try it a different way..." Leon positioned himself once more. He let the electricity flow through him like before, but this time, he raised both of his arms pointing towards each other. The two sets of electricity combined much more easily, and steadied itself into a physical form. Then, slowly, Leon began pulling apart his hands, and in the process, move the singular, large electric attack into two smaller ones in both hands. He figured this would be much simpler than to form them separately. At least, for the time being.

The electric pulses of energy expanded in chaos for a moment at the point of extraction, but slowly subdued, and Leon successfully had a set of electric energy in both hands. Focusing the two energies to the tips of his index and middle fingers, he launched the two attacks simultaneously at the two targets. A familiar sensation of tingling in his nervous system on his hands was felt as the electricity left his body.

The two attacks for quick and precise, and hit the targets. Leon dropped his hands to his sides, and looked at Joshua.

"There's your f*****g two forms." Leon said, with a hint of arrogance, yet also displeasure in his voice.
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Old February 15th, 2012 (11:38 PM).
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Jericho Heiko: Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio (United States of America)

Jericho sat on the hardwood floor of his room, scratching his stomach with his left hand and bouncing a blue racquet ball off of the white walls, playing solo catch. The impact made a hollow pop kind of noise, a kind of noise Jeri always enjoyed. Music played inside the room loudly, the sound bouncing off of the walls in an attempt to escape somewhere. It was loud enough to be heard outside the door. Jeri didn't like the music playing right now, he couldn't like it because it sounded like chaos. What the genre was... He didn't want to know. It was like some kind of mix between Screamo and Techno. It was a concoction of Hell. Jeri did his best to ignore it, focusing his eyes and mind on the hard, blue ball. He had this music on as a courtesy.

Next to him was his best friend in this State, Peter. He laid out on his stomach, glasses balanced on the tip of his nose and eyes looking bored as ever. His blond hair rested over his eyebrows, which were colored black. He wore just a white shirt which on the front would read "Getitout!" in big, bubbly, rainbow letters--or was it more of that psychedelic pattern?--with a little mention of the organization in small print under the main picture. He had blue jeans on and his legs were lifted in the air, crossed at the ankles. Peter's head rested on the palm of his hand, and his brown eyes stared down, half-lidded at a notepad he had under him. He scribbled down information with light strokes and with a neat hand. Jeri thought his position made him look like a girl. A really, really bored girl.

Jeri tossed the ball harder than he had been and shouted a groan. The ball bounced back with that same hollow pop and returned to his hands within a second. He turned half his body towards Peter, frowning.

"How can you even listen to this stuff!?" Jeri asked with a tone close to disgust. Peter tilted his head towards him lazily.

"Huh?" He lifted his head off of his palm, letting his hand drop, only held up by his wrist. "What?" Jeri groaned and repeated his question. Shrugging, Peter looked back down at his work. "I don't know," he said in monotone. "It's not bad and it helps me concentrate."

Jeri rolled his eyes. Helps him concentrate. "Dude, you look bored as f**k. Will you quit that already? Jesus. You haven't said a thing for thirty minutes!" Peter dropped his arm and looked at Jeri again, changing his expression to one that seemed to say "Are you out of your mind?"

"Bored? I'm not bored. I'm concentrating."

"Who concentrates like that?" Seriously, Peter had the dullest looking "concentration face". Instead of furrowed brows and focused eyes, he looked detached and far away as if he were daydreaming. Peter grunted and rolled his eyes, smiling.

"I do. Besides," he looked back at his notepad, grabbing it in his hands and lifting it up like it was some kind of relic, "how could I be bored? You're the most interesting thing in the world right now!" Peter's bored eyes were now lit with fascination, staring down at the words he wrote on the paper. "And," he continued, rolled from his stomach onto his back and then lifting himself into a sitting position right next to Jeri, although somewhat crooked, "I think I'm figuring this out!"

Jeri grunted and looked back at the wall, starting up his game of catch with the paint. "Sorry, but I already figured it out." Peter's eyes widened in belief and awe and then almost as quickly went down into a look almost annoyed.

"You're not a goddamn pyro," he said without humor, looking at Jeri above his glasses. He looked stern, like a schoolteacher having a talk with a rowdy student.

"Oh come on!" Jeri caught the ball and looked at Peter smartly. "How could I not be?" Peter's face took on a look of disbelief. He looked at Jericho as if he were completely out of his mind, completely stupid. He grabs his notepad and faced it towards Jeri, pointing at the written words.

"Uhm, all this!?" He shoved it towards Jeri's face and he pushed it back. He looked unimpressed. The notebook held a list of everything they did with Jeri's power, ever test, and every little spontaneous thing that went on with him. Peter had made calculations on it too. Jeri could see the math in the margins.

"That doesn't mean anything." Jeri told Peter, dismissing his little notebook.

"Doesn't mean anything!? Doesn't mean anything!?" Peter was getting worked up now. "This means everything! The tests and the trials... None of this is for nothing you know! Everything written in here goes away from your little fire fantasy."

"Uh-huh. Except I burped fire yesterday," Jeri smiled somewhat triumphantly. Peter rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Just..." Peter paused for a moment, "Just forget the pyro thing for a sec. I want to try something." Jeri knew that meant he won, but his interest was too high for him to say anything. "Your ball," he said, pointing at it, "throw it at the wall."

Jeri looked at Peter oddly, but seeing him not changing his mind or explaining anything, Jeri did as he was told. The ball made the pop! noise and was back in his hand.

"Keep doing that," Peter told him. Jeri did, still unsure of what all this was about. Peter didn't say anything for several minutes, just watching. Jeri couldn't stop wondering what in the world he was trying to do, but he stayed quiet, knowing that if he stopped Peter would not only get angry, but not tell what this was about. "Okay now..." He finally said, going slow as if he were afraid speaking quickly would throw off some fragile balance. "Focus on the ball, just the ball. Nothing else." Okay, focusing... He still didn't get what this was about. Kind of hard not to think about it. "Now, think about absorbing the ball's energy when you catch it."

"Wait, you want me to focus on the ball, just the ball and think about absorbing something? Sorry, but that seems just a little impossible." Peter groaned.

"Okay, sorry. Do both."

"Okay, but... My arm is getting tired."

"Don't think about your arm, then. Just make sure you throw the ball the same way every time."

"Hold on. Is this one of your make-Jeri-into-a-science-experiment-and-not-tell-him kind of I-want-to-try-somethings?"

"Yes, now focus."

"Could have given me a heads-up. I wouldn't have said no."

"Jeri!" Jericho laughed and continued with his ball throwing, trying to focus now when he wasn't before. He wasn't completely sure if he was doing it right? Focus on absorption. That wasn't as easy as baking pies. Not for him at least with crappy music in the background and so much other stuff to think about, like how he should not think about things, for example. He focused on the sound coming from the ball rather than the ball itself, finding that much less susceptible to distractions. Absorbing whatever he was supposed to absorb (he kind of forgot) was a thought in the background. That hollow pop, now on his mind, became the loudest thing in the room to his ears and in effect, he could suddenly hear the rhythm it made. The metronome pops were somewhat hypnotic to him. For a second, he wondered if he could make music from this. It was at the twentieth hit (by his count, which he started late), that Peter finally allowed him to stop.

"You can take a break now, but while you do, I want you to try and think about releasing all that energy when you throw the ball." Think about releasing the energy. For some reason, the idea seemed ludicrous to Jericho. He had powers now, but even still... The idea that he could just think about it and it would happen? It was awesome, he had to admit, but trying it made it feel impossible no matter how many times he did it. Most of his little abilities showed up by accident so he hadn't gotten used to it. He wasn't sure, though, that he'd ever get used to it.

Jeri lifted his arm to toss the ball, thinking he'd rested long enough. He tried to focus. Release the energy with the ball. He flicked his wrist forward, the same way he'd been doing for the past forty-five minutes. The ball went fast out of his hand, smacking into the wall with loud pop, and flying towards his face with reflected speed. Going fast, its arch was more like a straight diagonal and instead of landing safely in his hands, the hard racquet ball smacked Jeri right in the nose. Jeri made a noise of exclamation and his hands went to his face immediately.

"Sh*t!" He exclaimed through his hands. "What the Hell!?"

"I told you to toss it, not beam it!" Peter told him in an agitated way. "You have to be constant in experiments not go all out and whatever!"

"I didn't beam it!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, really! Why would I try and break my own nose!?" For a smart kid, Peter was really stupid sometimes. Jeri frowned as he checked his nose, making sure he didn't do any damage. His eyes traveled to Peter who was vigorously writing notes onto his notepad. Finding out his nose was fine, he put his hands down and eyed Peter. When he was finally finished he looked up triumphantly.

"I think I've got it... Your power, it has to be kinetic. You take in the energy and then release that same force! Maybe... Even harness potential energy as well!" Jeri looked at Peter with a lost look.

"Wait, you lost me. What about the Kinect?" Peter opened his mouth to say it again, but he was stopped by the radio. The music ceased to play and now a smart man's voice was playing. He made another reminder about the Atlantean's need to register and then listed the locations of some of the facilities in major cities. He also put in a sidenote about contacting the local police station for the facility nearest to you.

"Aren't you going to go to that? At least check it out?" Jeri grunted.

"Hell no," he said instantly. "They don't need to know what I can do and I don't want to tell them."

"What about seeing other Atlanteans? Find out what they can do."

"Why would I want to be cramped up with a bunch of fishheads?" Fishheads had been a term created a day after the Atlanteans came out. It was made by (from what Jeri knew) a guy at a gas station. The name Atlaneans naturally implied Atlantis, and when talking about the city in the sea it was easy to find out where the word sprang up from. "Anyways, I don't need cops looking at me weird because I've got a start sewn on my shirt, if you know what I mean."

"Who cares? At least you have something. Man, I'd kill to be able to do this kind of stuff!" And by "this kind of stuff", Peter didn't just mean Jeri's ability. The internet was an information super highway and the cars of eager Atlanteans bragging about their powers sped through the lanes. There were powers from the cool, to the goofy, to the stupid, and just plane outrageous. Jeri was not one of the hundred or millions putting his power out on the net. Mostly because they still weren't sure what it was, exactly.

"You wouldn't be the only one," Jeri commented, remembering some news reports springing up here and there. People were crazy, they really were. There seemed to be occurrences here and there about people attempting to gain Atlantean powers when they hadn't had one on their own. There was just one earlier in the week about some crazy doing it. The methods they discovered were... Jeri and Peter shuddered, both thinking the same thing. With stuff like that, it made Jeri glad that the protection of a military base kept the weirdies from getting in.



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Old February 16th, 2012 (05:12 AM). Edited February 16th, 2012 by Skymin.
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Atticus Forsberg - Stockholm, Sweden

"What?" Atticus bent around again, seeing the scrape on her arm after she had taken her coat off. It wasn't life threatening, but it was an open wound none the less. That stuff got infected. Then it would hurt even more. He pulled off the road the first chance he got, grabbing the first aid kit from the glove box and getting out of the car.

"Uh," he said, opening the door of the back seat, "I'm just going to... okay." He pulled out a small bottle of alcohol, dabbed it on a cotton bud and gently wiped down her scratch then applied a band-aid, then a bandage. Probably a little over the top but Atticus didn't want to be responsible for any kind of extra pain Helena. When he was done, he left the First Aid kit in the backseat for Helena, in case she wanted to do her own thing, then hoped back into the front seat. They continued on their way to the airport, which was a little packed for a day like this. It was probably heading towards 10 o'clock now. The carpark was packed and the terminal even busier. It was a good thing that their plane was a private one, or Atticus would have suspected their flight would have been filled with crying babies and disgruntled businessmen who couldn't afford business class.

The only problem with this airport was the guards standing at every gate with a doctor looking person beside them. Oh crap. These guys were checking for Atlanteans and he had a pretty good idea that any Atlantean without an ID card would be refused entry. He looked over at Gate 7AA, the terminal which Atticus had been informed prior to this that their plane would be at. Indeed, standing at it was a large man with muscles that would crush a small child and a woman standing next to him, armed with a syringe. She nor the large man didn't look like anyone Atticus could recognise so they was most likely there thanks to Airport Security. Crap. He had no fake IDs. He had left them... in the car. In... the cup holder? Somewhere. The car had probably been moved by another AUP by now.

"Hey... hey Helena. How good are you at your power?" he said to her, feeling a little awkward just standing there in the middle of an airport.

Natalia Zaytsev - Stockholm, Sweden

The plane arrived at the Stockholm-Bromma Airport, landing safely and pulling in to rest at Gate 7AA. Cooper emerged from the cockpit, looking quite exhausted. He greeted them, exchanged a few words before retreating back to his sanctuary, stating he was going to have a sleep before they took off again for France. He had been flying all night, Natalia didn't blame him at all for wanting at least a little sleep. Annie had retreated back to her computer, totally engrossed in her work. Natalia on the other hand had nothing to do but wait.

"Afon?" she said to the exhausted boy. "We have a little time before our other members arrive. Did you want to get out? Stretch your legs? Do you need anything? Because this is our last stop until France." She didn't blame him if he declined, he looked almost comatose.

"Otto" - Florence, Italy

"To the Vatican, though I am probably on the wrong train for that," she said, tilting her head at the boy. What odd eyes he had. "London is an odd choice from Italy on train for Americans like you. I'm guessing you are not tourists, by the look of your luggage. And lack of camera." She tilted her head back straight, barely blinking while she was speaking. "If I could take a guess, I think you are Atlanteans."

She didn't like to mess around with weird tricks and wordplay like the other members did when trying to recruit. She said what she thought. Though, this was not like any other Atlantean Unification Project recruitment. This went deeper than goading people into joining their cause.

"So, what can you do?" she said, acting as if this was any of casual conversation. To her, this did not bother her. She had found other Atlanteans were rather reluctant to answer her appropriately but to her, an Atlantean ability was just like the colour of your hair or your eyes. You could always colour your hair or wear contacts to hide them from everyone, but it will always be a part of you.
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Old February 16th, 2012 (09:55 AM).
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Cira & Alex Gaile - Florence, Italy


This person picked out a few random things after telling her destination, like the fact that the two weren't tourists. Though, as she said, the lack of cameras makes it a little obvious. "If I could take a guess, I think you are Atlanteans." Okay, she's a little too observant. And knowledgeable. She didn't let them respond, either. "So what can you do?"

If she pointed out their heritage so easily, she probably already knew. A connection to the center back in Washington? Since he wasn't exactly sure what to call his own power, Cira nodded in his father's direction, who was already busy playing with the metal bar in his pocket. "How about we show you?" Cira asked, chuckling in his mind about what Alexander'd been doing the past week. "But we'd like some answers of our own next."

Alex, now with slightly grayed skin from playing with the iron bar, turned his cheek to the girl, pointing at it with his unoccupied hand; his power's been active this whole time. "Go ahead, just punch me. Right in the kisser." Not like it mattered where she punched him.
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Old February 16th, 2012 (12:02 PM).
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It was times like this that Christian wished he knew what he was going into when walked into the center 24 hours ago. In general, he always liked to be prepared in his dealings as being caught off guard always made things more difficult and potentially stressful. Pleasant surprises were enjoyable, however, and meeting Antonia could be categorized as one. But…well…Christian was never good at "dates" no matter how formal or informal. The entire time he had been talking about himself: his interests, his hobbies, his family, his goals in life. He have no idea what to ask and up until now he knew next to nothing about her. If he had only had some sort of profile to read (hint, hint).

Christian had no idea what to ask her in order to get her talk about herself a bit more. For the most part, the conversation had more centered on himself. This much was surprising. Christian never considered himself all that exciting or interesting. Yet here he is…talking about himself for some time. Shocking, isn't it?

Christian looked around the room for ideas to steer the conversation in a different direction. preferably off himself. The cafeteria was a social haven with Atlanteans able to talk amongst themselves without judgements being made. Some showed off their abilities to others, and many simply smiled and did the same. It was peaceful, it was quaint and it was….nice. Christian smiled to himself, happy that there was a place that Atlanteans could be themselves. It inspired him a bit as he now had a more defined goal: to create a world like the one finds himself in now. One free of judgement, free of war and one of serenity and peace. He would do anything to achieve that. With that solace in mind, Christian felt more comfortable and felt as if a burden was lifted from his shoulders.

(OOC: Going to bunny Antonia briefly. Hope it's okey dokey lokey.)

"Are you okay, Christian?" Antonia asked, looking mildy concerned.

"Oh, yes. Sorry. I'm fine," he replied, shaking his head free of distractions. He took a sip of his juice, averting eye contact with Antonia. To be truthful, he was embarrassed to be so absorbed in his thoughts. Not traditionally an idealist, Christian could not help but be overjoyed at the display the Atlantean Royal Family had presented. Whether or not they intended to do this or not would be the topic of a conspiracy theory. Christian wanted to be optimistic, but couldn't help over analyzing the situation. Finishing his gulp, Christian pointed over to where River was: "Looks like River is going to speak."

"Now that we have eaten, it is time we continued on to the Orientation. For you all sitting here today, this will be your new home. I understand that you have parents, siblings, families, but as long as you are with them, they are in trouble. At this point of time, there are three main players in this secret war to hoard a new resource; Atlanteans. What happened in Berlin was a catalyst created by a secretive organisation called ‘The Syndicate’. Essentially they train Atlanteans to become spies, mercenaries for hire to anyone who has the money. Behind them is the Atlantean Unification Project, while their motives are unclear at this point, from what we can deduct, they wish to unite all Atlanteans as a singular race, separating themselves from the outside world as an exclusive, select group. We, the Atlantean Royal Family, on the other hand want to train you all to better control your abilities. We work slowly to train as many people as possible, so that Atlanteans and humans can coexist in a world together.”

Christian propped his elbows on the table and interlocked his fingers together before placing him in front of his mouth. Not only would his voice be muffled a bit, but any onlookers would not be able to read his lips easily. Christian met Antonia's gaze and spoke carefully: "Seems I was not too far off with my theory." Christian was pleased with himself, and patted himself on the back. Of course, this fact also bothered him. He didn't want to be right. "I will admit that they do not seem to lying at the moment. This mansion would be an accurate representation of their overarching goal. However, I know for a fact they know more they are letting on. We'll have to talk about this later."

River opened the floor to questions of which she appeared to answer earnestly. Christian held back asking his own for the time being. Firstly, he want to make sure that he had something intelligent to say. Secondly, he did not want to cut anyone off. That would be rude and make a poor impression. After a few moments pause, Christian stood up and looked River in the eyes.

"When do we start training?"
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Old February 16th, 2012 (06:42 PM).
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Nikolai Afon - Sweeden

Nikolai Afon sank into his chair, exhausted. His ability had always taken strength away from him, leaving him weak and tired, but now he just felt like lying down and sleeping for a while. He was vaugely aware of Natalia saying something to him, but he ignored her and fell asleep almost immediately. He felt like he slept for a long time, but when he awoke again, it had only been about fifteen minutes. The small nap had given him some energy back though, and he felt slightly better than before. He looked at the table next to him and saw a glass of water, which he eagerly drank from, the cool water soothing his throat.

Nikolai looked up as Natalia spoke to him.

"Afon? We have a little time before our other members arrive. Did you want to get out? Stretch your legs? Do you need anything? Because this is our last stop until France."

Nikolai nodded. "Yeah, thanks. I'll think I'll think I'll take a quick walk before we take off again." He walked downt he ramp onto the tarmac, the cool air felling good. He wondered who the other members that Natalia had mentioned could be.
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Old February 16th, 2012 (07:08 PM). Edited February 16th, 2012 by Skymin.
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Oakley North - Boston, England

Oakley swallowed hastily as Kieran, the guy she had shared the quad-bike with, joined her at the end of the table. Indeed, she had picked her seat to be away from everyone for a reason, though he didn't seem to catch on to that. Or he had blantantly ignored her wishes to be alone. He watched her for a few seconds as she stared at her plate, rolling a blueberry back and forward with her fork. She felt too nervous to actually speak to him and a part of her screamed out to get up, walk away and join her brother. Another part screamed out that was a terribly bad idea due to past experiences. What if Michael triggered another accident? It... hurt too much. No, she was not avoiding her brother because he mentally hurt her. She was avoiding him because he physically hurt her.

"Can I show you something, Oakley?" Oakley looked up at Kieran, his gentle voice soothing her thoughts. She blinked at him, lost in his mysterious eyes for a second before nodding at him. He stood up and slowly pulled off his leather jacket, revealing what Oakley thought was a pretty nice shirt. But that wasn't what he was showing her. As the sleeves fell off his arms, a bone blade, one of each arm, revealed themselves. Oakley went wide-eyed at them for a second, trying to understand what they were. This was his 'ability'? Bone? Out of... his arms? That looked extremely painful. She clutched her right arm with her left hand. This guy... was kind of like her. "Pretty weird, huh?"

"That's... that's your ability?" she rubbed her finger against her lip, frowning a little in worry. "Does it hurt?"

"Not now, no. But it did. It, uh, well... okay, when the Atlanteans first came out, it started to push through. It was like... the bone in my arm had split in two and then it pushed out through my arm. When it first cut open, there was blood everywhere and I tried wrapping them up, but the bone just cut through that too. It took about three or four days before it stopped moving and it hurt for another day after that. Now... it's just like fingernail. A big, hard fingernail," he gave a little laugh, pulling at it a little. Oakley continued to look at it worridly, now gently biting her fingernails. She had complained so much about her ability and here was this guy, who looked like he had been through a hell of a lot more than she ever had. Though, her selfish side pushed through, reminding her than this guy, though had felt the pain once, Oakley experienced it every day. Never the less, she felt a little embarrassed. "What's wrong with your arm? Did you break it? Did you want me to get one of the nurses to look at it?" He reached over to touch it.

"Uh, no! Uh," she pulled her arm back, keeping it under the table. She didn't... want to... but she had to learn to get used to this. This was something that was going to be with her forever. If Kieran could be so open with his ability, something that was so similar to Oakley's, why couldn't she. She held her breath and slowly unwrapped the bandage on her right arm, revealing the armour beneath it. It had halfway up her arm, at a comfortable state. He didn't react like she though he would, being all wide eyed and freaked out. No, instead he leant forward.

"May I?" he said, gesturing his hands to touch it. Oakley reluctantly nodded, letting Kieran reach out and feel the armour. It was weird, she could feel his hands touching her cool, hard armour. Like it was her own skin, but hardened. He traced the small gem that had started to grow in an indent on the top of her arm, then touching the sensitive, revealed dark skin on the palm. It was all too weird. "How odd."

"What's odd?" Oakley said, shaking her head. Was there something different about her power? Unnatural to Atlanteans? Maybe he thought she was a freak. She exhaled sharply as she felt the armour grow up her arm a little. "Is s-something wrong?"

"How'd you make it move?" He looked up at her she held her eyes tight, trying to push down the pain. "Whoa, if it hurts, don't do it."

"I can't," she said, breathing deeply. It helped, the armour stopped just short of her elbow. Her arm had expanded too. "It does it when I... get... upset. Or angry. Or sad. Or worried. Or any... kind of change."

"Well, at least you'll be able to learn how to do it here," he put her arm down on her lap. "Don't get so worried about it, okay? Everyone here's gonna try and help you deal."

"Really?"

Kieran didn't get an answer in before River stood up to speak.

“Now that we have eaten, it is time we continued on to the Orientation. For you all sitting here today, this will be your new home. I understand that you have parents, siblings, families, but as long as you are with them, they are in trouble. At this point of time, there are three main players in this secret war to hoard a new resource; Atlanteans. What happened in Berlin was a catalyst created by a secretive organisation called ‘The Syndicate’. Essentially they train Atlanteans to become spies, mercenaries for hire to anyone who has the money. Behind them is the Atlantean Unification Project, while their motives are unclear at this point, from what we can deduct, they wish to unite all Atlanteans as a singular race, separating themselves from the outside world as an exclusive, select group. We, the Atlantean Royal Family, on the other hand want to train you all to better control your abilities. We work slowly to train as many people as possible, so that Atlanteans and humans can coexist in a world together. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them now before we move on, there is much to get done.”

Christian stood up to as a question but Oakley didn't hear him as Kieran put a hand on her armoured one.

"This place really helped me. I'm positive it's going to help you too."
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Old February 17th, 2012 (12:54 AM).
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Helena Andersson - Bromma Airport, Sweden

Atticus saw Helena's wound and bothered to pull over and clean it.

"I could do that myself... you know," Helena muttered and grimaced as the cleaning alcohol stung while Atticus carefully worked. But she let him do it. He put on a bandaid big enough to fit the wound, then a little bandage and took the front seat again, resuming their journey to the airport. Helena had gotten not a few scrapes and injuries during her time Parkouring, so she knew that Atticus probably was right when he wanted to keep any kind of wound clean and free from infections. But she cared a lot more about the jacket. Briefly, she wondered if any Atlantean could have the power to magically sew things back together as if they were never broken. From what she'd seen, it wasn't impossible.

They reached Bromma, the smaller of the airports near Stockholm - the Atlanteans probably didn't want to cause a bigger commotion than they had to - and parked the car. Helena felt a bit naked when she stepped out from the car, but stayed close to Atticus as they walked into the airport buildings. Not that she trusted him yet, but it was either this man with a creepy tail who actually cared for her wellbeing, or those people in the other car shooting at them.

When they reached the gate, Helena was starting to feel her stomach growl and was going to ask Atticus if she could buy some food. But the red head seemed troubled with other things. He stopped and stared at the gate entrances.

"What?" Helena asked, but then saw for herself. Guards. The same kind that had been at the Atlantean centre. And she had fled from there... well, she had gotten kidnapped, but still. She had not registered. This could surely prove a problem. If only... Atticus was thinking the exact same thing.

"Hey... hey Helena. How good are you at your power?" he said to her.

Helena sighed. "I can make myself invisible and stay invisible for as long as I concentrate. But I can't... I don't think I can make you disappear as well. I've tried... with small objects and even that is difficult. Sometimes I do it without concentrating, but I can't really control that. Sorry," she said, making sure that no bypassers heard them.

Then she thought hard. If there was a friendly plane with friendly people on the other side of this gate, she wanted to get there without further ado. "How good are you with yours?" she asked him back. "Is the plane here and ready? If I sneak up to the big guard and distract him, can you block the syringe if the woman tries to jab you, and then run? Or do you have a better idea."

Helena could run, climb and jump. That was what she did for a living. She wasn't good at making up clever plans, she was just really tired of all the hostility towards them.
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Old February 19th, 2012 (03:54 AM).
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"Otto" - Florence, Italy

Instead of punching him, she held the father's face in her hands and inspected it, pushing on his cheeks and lips to feel the metal texture he had absorbed into his face. It was so queer, feeling part of his face that was hard as a rock, but seeing it as flesh. It was just as he had described it. She let go of his face and looked into his face, unphased by the fact she had invaded the privacy of a man she had just met. What other substances could this man make his body. Liquid? Gas? Water? Lava? Ice? Of course, he had to be touching the substance for his power to take effect, so substances like fire were out of the question. But still, it was all too intriguing.

"And yours?" she said, looking to the boy? She already knew his power. She just wanted to see it first up. "If you show me yours, I will show you mine."

Her power was her second favourite thing about herself, other than her self inflicted and Atlantean tattoos. She always felt unique whenever she thought of her ink. As if her hair and clothing wasn't enough.

Natalia Zaytsev - Stockholm, Sweden

"Sure," Natalia followed him out. Not because she did not trust him enough to know that he would run away, no, but because Natalia needed the walk as well. On the plane had been the first time she had slept so well in a long time, since before she was given Afon to study. Her nights had always been long, either searching for potential candidates with Annie, retrieving and protecting said candidates or looking out for rebel alliances, rival organisations or anything with generally bad intentions. But now, her sleep had left her tired and sore, though a walk in the sun would do that good. Kind of sun.

Afon himself looked quite exhausted thanks to his earlier efforts, but at least he had gotten some sleep. Though the day was almost half over, there was still more that had to be done. Natalia had planned on showing Afon everything about home base, even introducing him to her superiors and perhaps even a tour. At this rate though, thanks to Atticus' delays, they might only get to one of those things.

"So, Afon," Natalia said, feeling the chill of Sweden blow through her hair. "Do you have any family?" Natalia knew this, but felt the need to make some kind of conversation.

Atticus Forsberg - Stockholm, Sweden

Atticus almost laughed back at Helena. How good was he with his tail? Please, that wasn't a real power. It was a weird, extra, infrequently useful limb. It was only good in a fight. Or picking stuff up. Or... stuff. No, it would not be helpful here.

"They should be here. Right through those gates," he pointed Gate 7AA, making sure the guard nor doctor-nurse noticed he was. "No, we shouldn't start a scene, we shouldn't give anyone a reason to put us in jail. A struggle will just inform other guards and then crap will just hit the fan. Maybe... uh," an idea came to mind. Not a really good one that was well thought out, like what Helena was probably expecting. A dumb, pretty risky one.

"Okay, so, you can make yourself go invisible, right? Okay... um, so, if Annie was right, she and Natalia should be down there outside somewhere. Natalia could help. Maybe. If you take your metal stuff off and sneak through and get her... but what happens if... argh!" he threw his hands up in the air. This sucked!!
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Old February 19th, 2012 (05:52 AM).
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Helena Andersson - Bromma Airport, Sweden

"They should be here," Atticus said and discretely gestured towards Gate 7AA. "Right through those gates. No, we shouldn't start a scene, we shouldn't give anyone a reason to put us in jail. A struggle will just inform other guards and then crap will just hit the fan. Maybe... uh..."

"What? You've got a better idea?" Helena asked and hoped that he had because that was what she had expected really.

"Okay, so, you can make yourself go invisible, right?" Atticus asked. Helena nodded. "Okay... um, so, if Annie was right, she and Natalia should be down there outside somewhere. Natalia could help. Maybe. If you take your metal stuff off and sneak through and get her... but what happens if... argh!"

He seemed frustrated. But Helena nodded again, slowly. "It'll work. What does she look like? Did I catch a glimpse of her in your car?"

When Atticus had described a little about Natalia's looks, Helena put the plan to work. She walked away to the toilets, where there were no queue at the moment. Inside, she turned invisible and took off her earrings and the white wrist watch. Then she walked out again, after making sure that she was still invisible. She sneaked back past Atticus and quickly stuck her hand down into one of his pockets, leaving the earrings and the watch there while whispering. "I'll want these back later."

Then she walked right up to the gate, heart beating and lots of doubts. The large man and the woman with the syringe stood still and didn't seem to see her... and she walked right past them without any trouble. She breathed out heavily, then realized that it might be heard. The large man actually turned around and looked in her direction with narrowing eyes. She clasped her hands over her mouth and stood completely still. She was invisible... She was... He turned back and Helena breathed out again, quieter this time.

She moved on, looking for anyone fitting Atticus' description. And there she was, walking beside a young man looking to be about Helena's age. She didn't bother to wonder who he was, she simply walked up to Natalia and started whispering in her ear, hopefully still invisible.

"Natalia," she said quietely. "Don't be scared. I'm Helena, the girl Atticus picked up, and I'm invisible. Atticus needs help to get past the gate guards." She hoped the woman wouldn't freak out. She looked like one to keep calm in any situations, to be honest.


((OOC: I hoped I didn't move things on too fast or godmod in any way :/ ))
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Old February 19th, 2012 (02:11 PM). Edited February 21st, 2012 by TornZero.
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Cira and Alex Gaile - Florence, Italy to England


Alexander was taken a little by surprise. The girl, instead of taking a whack at him, just played with his face like a curious child. She seemed pretty intrigued by the fact that Alex's face had taken on the strength of metal despite still being flexible and fleshy. Then she looked at Cira. "And yours?"

"Mine?"

"If you show me yours, I will show you mine." That seemed like a pretty good deal. Maybe he could try something more impressive than throwing something at his dad's face, too; could his power reach down to more than just something solid, like individual molecules? Something basic should be enough. What made fire? He didn't have anything to light, so friction would be necessary. Then there's oxygen and something flammable. There's plenty of flammable gases in the air: methane, hydrogen, carbon monoxide. All not large in volume, but still very burn-worthy. Then there's nitrogen; it made up the majority of the gas in the air and doesn't burn. This'll take a while. Regardless, Cira nodded at the girl and closed his eyes, trying to think of the gases at their level, the burnable molecules just crashing into each other.

After about a minute and a half of trying to concentrate, and some rather annoying grunting sound effects courtesy of Cira's father, an area between the trio's seats sparked and ignited into a small flame, however brief that may have appeared before dissipating. It tired the boy out some, though, having to move things on such a tiny scale. He didn't even get to see the fruit of his labor. It relieved him that he was able to do something like that, however, in spite of all the work it took. Next time, let's see if I can't lift a boulder. He took another minute to catch his breath and asked the girl next to him, "Was that a good example? Now it's your turn."
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Old February 20th, 2012 (02:54 PM).
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Brian Sheppard - New York City, New York, United States


Content. Love. Hate. Compassion. Hope. Fear. Lust. Passion. All emotions, and all the things Brian was currently feeling at that moment. It was slightly amazing. To feel so many emotions at once was something that was unexplainable to him but it was a burden as well. He wasn't able to tell no one with out something bad happening and he wasn't able to use it like he could. It had only started a week before but it was unique and he knew why. He was an Atlantean...

Scrolling down the screen on his computer, Brian read a news report, slowly reading the whole thing.

“…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,” it read.

Oh great, he thought, I have to register? How am I supposed to do that without my family finding out?

It was frustrating, being able to tell them. He knew the loved him but what would they think of him? He knew he had to do it. Sighing, he grabbed his leather jacket and wallet to leave. He took the steps out of his room to the stairs and walked down quietly, hoping no one would see him leave, or at least not question him. Reaching the first floor, he walked onward to the door, well, that was until he was stopped.

"Brian, what's slope intercept form," his fifteen year-old sister asked, doing her homework with her twin Jake.

Not the question I thought it would be but okay, he thought happily. "Y equals mx plus b," he told her. "Working on Geometry?"

"Ya," Jake said. "It's pretty stupid being that Geometry is about shapes not slopes."

"But slopes are lines," he said. "See you guys later."

Opening the door, Brian progressed to his new car. It was a nice, black hybrid his parents had got him for his birthday, simple.

The ride was quick, being as the building was only by the JFK airport while he was in Brooklyn. After getting there, he walked in to find the whole place filled.

Emotions flooded his mind. Lust for power, hope for peace and justice. Just a couple things he felt. God, he thought. Wish I could turn this off sometimes. Pushing the emotions from his thoughts a little, Brian moved on. Seemingly there for nearly a half hour, he reached the front counter and got pulled to the back with a doctor ready to take down notes.

"Name and power?" He asked eagerly.

Brian told him, giving him the details of his power and the like. The doctor seemed interested and was given a piece of paper and directed to another room.
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Old February 21st, 2012 (03:28 AM).
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Jeremy Kyle - London, England



Jeremy turned to talk to Jason Weaver when he took a while to respond, but the person looking at him was not Jason, instead a rather large lady looked back at him intimidatingly. He was certain that Jason was somewhere in the room, but even as he scanned the crowd, no one even looking remotely like Jason. Cursing under his breath, he teleported away, appearing on top of the roof that looked across the busy London street at the Atlantean Centre. Jason could have easily slipped out and joined the crowd, so Jeremy had no way of finding him again; this had been his only chance to recruit. He was on the verge of giving up and teleporting back to the headquarters when his watched squawked to life; if the Syndicate needed to get hold of Jeremy while he was in the field, his watch acted as a communicator as well as a couple of other added features.

“Change of plan,” came the Directive’s voice from the tiny speaker located above the watch face, “we have a new target for you, in America.” Jeremy was a bit taken aback, he had only been to America a handful of times and on neither of those occasions had he teleported there. He continued to listen as the Directive told Jeremy where he had to go, and the name of his target, but Jeremy was biting his lip the whole time since he hadn’t been anywhere near Ohio before.

“We expect you to succeed on this one.” The Directive finished menacingly.

Jeremy breathed in, holding it down before letting it out in a massive sigh and falling to the ground. This was going to be a lot tougher than teleporting around Europe; America seemed a lot more hostile than Europe even more so since he had hardly ever travelled there before. His high school had taken a trip to Washington DC several years back, and his memory was already getting fuzzy, but he did remember the plane trip from Toronto to Washington DC. Focussing now, he sat calmly on the ground, eyes closed and breathing steadily; in through his nose, out through his mouth. He pictured Toronto, the city he had grown up in, specifying it more to the school he attended, the halls he had walked, the classes he had sat in. The old smells crept into his nose; the stink of teenage sweat, the cleaning agents the cleaners used and within a minute the light from the morning sun over England was replaced by the darkness that followed the setting sun.

Opening his eyes, an eerie chill ran down his spine as he was now back in Toronto High, albeit the halls were dark and absent of human bodies and the air was chill. He walked past rows of lockers, the familiar ones from when he had attended all those years back now covered and taken over by a new occupant. He willed himself to keep moving on, to get out of the ghostly memories that haunted him in this place. Teleporting again, he appeared outside of a window he had looked through, breathing in the tainted Toronto air, however it felt fresher than the smog filled city of London.

Jeremy was lucky that the airport was the same as he had remembered it from those years ago where he went to Washington DC. The only problem was that the stall he appeared in already had an occupant, and after an awkward exchange, Jeremy quickly bolted out of the bathroom and into Toronto Airport. He was slightly disorientated as the airport had changed quite drastically, but a quick look at the airport terminal map hanging on the wall quickly told Jeremy where he was and where he needed to get to. Above the map sat two television screens, one showing the departures, the other showing arrivals. Lucky for Jeremy, there was a flight heading for Dayton, Ohio in ten minutes; if he was quick, he would be able to make it without having to purchase a ticket.

Ten minutes later and the plane was taking off from Toronto Airport, heading towards Dayton, Ohio which would take little over two hours. Safely reclining in one of the back seats, Jeremy gripped the armrests on either side of him as the guy flying next to him gave him a weird look.

“Scared of flying, huh?” the large man said with a laugh.

“Petrified,” Jeremy managed to reply, teeth clenched shut as the airplane lifted off the ground, releasing his tight grip once they had levelled off and the seatbelt sign had switched off. With sweat beading down his forehead, he turned to the man, “Let me tell you something funny about flying, eh?” slipping slightly back into his old Canadian accent.

The large man moved around seemingly trying to get comfortable so he could listen to Jeremy, “a joke would help loosen you up,” he again laughed a deep laugh, Jeremy however did not see how any of this was funny.

“You see the ‘recommended’ brace position? Well, the reason they have it is because in an air accident, you’re ****ed anyway, by doing this it stretches your spine out, revealing the back of your neck so that it can snap easily.” Horror began to creep onto the man’s face, but Jeremy continued talking, “Following this, your jaw will snap shut tightly, preserving your dental records, same thing that the brace position does. As for the oxygen, pure oxygen is like a drug, it mellows you out, keeps you calm, what better way to die than on a high, right?”

Jeremy could actually swear the man was on the verge of tears, ready to jump out the door. Several times he caught the man looking rapidly at all the exit doors in case they started to go down, “Oh, a word of warning,” Jeremy said, hoping to catch the man further off guard, “I wouldn’t use the aisle’s if I were you, everyone will do that so your survival rate drastically decreases. Try jumping over the seats,” and after sizing the man up, “but I doubt a man of your stature and weight could handle that.”

Two seconds later, and the man requested for a seat change. Jeremy was happy to be left by himself, there was no one to bother him on the flight, and he had plenty of space to freak out when they descended….as well as both hand rests.

The descent was just as bad as the take-off, but once they had landed safely on the ground, Jeremy relaxed again, knowing that he hadn’t died on the flight. Looking out the window, he picked a spot outside the perimeter fence of the Airport in the gloomy twilight and within seconds felt the cool evening air brush over him, replacing the stale air inside of the aircraft. A quick taxi ride after and he arrived safely at Wright-Patterson Air force Base, teleporting out before he had to pay a fee. Once inside, he wound his way through the civilian homes until he came to one in specific: Heiko Residence. He took a quick knock at the door, stepping back and hoping that Jericho would answer.
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Old February 21st, 2012 (08:27 AM). Edited February 21st, 2012 by Silver Rogue.
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Nikolai Afon - Stockholm, Sweden

Nikolai looked over as Natalia exited the plane as well. He smiled, it was good to have some company. He stood there, breathing in the cool Sweedish morning air. He felt slightly awkward though, he had never been great at conversations, or at starting them. Fortunately for him, Natalia spoke up first, "So, Afon. Do you have any family?"

Nikolai felt some sadness in him, remembering his parents. "No. Not anymore. I never knew my mother, I assume she died. I'm not really sure, I didn't ask my father about it. My father...died a few years ago in a car crash. We weren't particularly close, but...I still loved him. I was in America at the time, I didn't know what to do. So I got exported back to Russia, in the care of another family until I was eighteen. So, thats my story. I dont know if my mother is even alive, I dont know if I have any siblings. Its a bit frustrating at times..."

He was about to ask Natalia about her family when he heard a voice from behind them, coming from what seemed to be just empty space. "Natalia. Don't be scared. I'm Helena, the girl Atticus picked up, and I'm invisible. Atticus needs help to get past the gate guards."

Nikolai, after getting over his intial shock of someone standing next to him being invisible, looked over at Natalia. "This could be a bit of a problem. Is there anything you think I could do? Or maybe you could just drag Atticus through a wall or something to get past?"
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Old February 21st, 2012 (10:44 AM). Edited February 21st, 2012 by PkMnTrainer Yellow.
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Erika Onzanem -- Washington D.C., Virginia



Erika sat down on a bench with a cup of coffee in her hand she'd purchased from a nearby coffee shop. In her other hand she held a humble looking but surprisingly delicious pastry. They had been too expensive to buy many of, according to her sense of expensive. However, she hadn't been able to resist a light snack. On her shoulder rested the strap of a purse containing a romance novel and a book on roman culture and daily life she had been reading, as well as several other personal belongings such as money, ID and whatnot. She was currently in Washington D.C., near JFK Airport specifically. She had been drawn by the presence of Atlantean groups in the area via a broadcast. Yet... now that she had reached D.C. she realized she did not know where to go from here. She'd come all this way and gotten lost.

Erika got several strange looks from bypassers, mainly because of her comically oversized pants, which literally often required her to hold them up or use a belt. She tended to prefer the latter for anything involving much walking. She wasn't currently wearing one however, as there was a reason for having such loose pants. Quite simply, it was better than having reasonably sized pants that promptly ripped apart when she activated her powers. She was here to attempt to embrace and learn about her apparent heritage as an Atlantean. That meant she had to stop hiding her powers. It was all so exciting! She kind of wondered how much history must've been lost with the atlantean society. And yet she was too anxious to use her powers right then and there. She was borderline ready, but the thoughts of drawing unnecessary negative attention held her back. Thus, she was distracting herself with food as she tried to think of how to handle the situation at hand best.

...Perhaps she could ask around? But who would she ask? Perhaps she could try a shop owner of some sort and go from there. For now though, she had snacking to do. Thus, Erika allowed herself to relax on the bench, sipping away at her drink and allowing her mind to drift from more important matters, at least for a moment.
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Old February 21st, 2012 (04:24 PM).
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Jericho Heiko: Wright-Patterson Airforce Base, Ohio (United States of America)

"Okay, okay! Enough of the writing! Are we ready to go or what? It's almost five!" Jericho shouted at Peter, whom was still sitting on the wood floor, scribbling in his stupid notebook. He stopped and looked at Jeri above his glasses and then sighed in defeat.

"Yeah, yeah." Peter began to pick up his items. They had an appointment to be at 5:30, a very important appointment. The two of them were going to do a round of paintballing at that exact time and Jeri wasn't interested in being late. It already took almost half an hour just to get to the place! And that was on an easy day. Dayton wasn't traffic central, but you never know. That and it was sunny. Sunny and warm and right smack dab in the winter. This wasn't something abnormal in the state, since it didn't seem to be able to make up its mind about the weather, but the thing was... Who knew how long it'd last? Again, Ohio was one indecisive mother. They probably only had two or three hours before it started raining or something else inconvenient.

Hopefully they'd be able to make the time getting in. They had their own guns and their own paintballs so they wouldn't have to wait in lines or take the time to rent anything. A game was already reserved as well. All they had to do was get there on time. Jeri had a thing about punctuality; a trait he'd inherited from his father and his teachings. Peter didn't seem to have those ideals instilled in him and that, right now, was getting on Jeri's nerves.

Jeri already had his things ready. The guns and the gear were already loaded into the truck, it was just a matter of Peter. Jeri glared down at Peter who slowly collected his things. And not just regular slow, an almost purposeful slow.

"Peter, man. Come on!"

Peter smiled. "Okay, okay!" He got his stuff at a faster pace this time. "Just get the car started, I'll meet you down there." Jeri sighed but did so. He got himself both flights upstairs and made a bee-line for the garage. He opened the door and turned on the light. There, right smack dab in the middle of the one-car garage was his own special ride. Well... Okay, it wasn't his, it was his mom's, but since she and his dad basically carpooled themselves to work and she never really used it, the baby was all his. It was a nice, shiny, black Cadillac CTS. It shined from even the dim light of the bulb, looking new from its polish. It wasn't new. Actually, it was a couple years old. It was an '08, not one of the newfangled versions. But... He had to say, he preferred this one the most. There was a prestige about it that he didn't think the newer models quite captured. Even in the new age father in the future, this thing would still look like luxury.

The car automatically unlocked when he approached and the light on the roof came to life when he opened the door. Jericho took his seat and turned on the false key to start the car. It came to life with a good purr. Not the roar of a Corvette, but still satisfying to him. He pulled down the flap on the roof and pressed the button of the garage door opener; it rose from the command. As he backed up when the garage door was fully out of the way, he remembered his negligence with the garage light (not for the first time) and made a note to himself to get Peter to turn it off when and if he came down the stairs before he got tired and drove off.

Jeri sat stationary in the drive way, waiting for his laggigng friend. It wasn't untik he looked to his left that he noticed some kid at the door. He wasn't sure by his looks, hut Jeri could guess he was at least a teen. He tried to estimate a reason for his presence. It couldn't have been for him, he didn't even know who this kid was! And even more impossible was to think it was for Pete since Peter didn't even live on base or have parents in the military. Twice as outrageous was the thought it was for his sister, who was only nine. If he were here for Abby, then they would be having some serious problems. Jeri could only think that he could be here for one of his parents which also seemed unlikely. However, there were plenty of enlisted teens.

Jericho rolled down the window and opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off by the start of the Star Spangled Banner. The instrumental resonated throughout the base, loud and yet pleasent enough to breach through walls and building for all to hear. Even civilians off base five miles out, and maybe more, could hear the band play clearly through the day. It started nicely, just as it always did. A smooth rendition that sounded as if it were played by the perfect band. Even from old speakers (wherever they were) the sound was crystal clear. The music, as it always did, prompted base dwellers to stop walked or talking or driving for the duration of the song; a group silence and stillness to appreciate the country. The base seemed to go into a freeze, everything still and quiet just for this. Once it ended, just a smoothly and naturally as it started, time seemed to resume and people were busy once again. However, the piece, designed to bring about pride and joy, did no such thing to Jericho. The banner played at the same time every day, right on the dot. Which meant only one thing. It was five o'clock.

Jericho scowled and blew the car horn twice, hard. "Get your *ss out here, Peter!" He yelled at the second floor window. Five more minutes and he was seriously going to leave that kid. What was he doing? Oh yeah, the kid. Jeri looked back out at this mystery fellow and rested his arm on the window frame and put one hand on the steering wheel. "If you're looking for my dad, he's still at work." Jeri raised a brow and then added, "Need directions?"
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