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Old October 24th, 2011 (4:42 PM). Edited November 28th, 2011 by Legend.
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Legend Legend is offline
  • Crystal Tier
Join Date: Apr 2008
Location: New Jersey
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Nature: Lonely
Posts: 1,308
Christian Calaway- London, England

"Chris! Chris! You gotta wake up mate!" A voice burst through a door, tearing it off its hinges.

"Bill, leave me alone…I need some sleep" Christian groaned, rolling in his bed pulling the covers over his head.

"Come on, man. It's getting late. We have to go to class soon anyway," Bill pouted with concern. "Trust me, getting up for this is worth it," he continued as he knew Christian would say something along the lines of 'Class isn't for a while'. Christian rolled around to face Bill with a blank expression. "I'll take that as you'll get up," Bill chuckled in victory.

Christian emerged from his dark room, still in his pajamas, groggy and tired. He was rubbing his eyes still as the conscious world was becoming gradually more clear to him. His roommates, Bill (the rude awakener and his best friend here), Charlie (Bill's friend from high school) and Arthur (the only one more reclusive than Christian himself) huddled together around the small television that Nicolas bought Christian for his room abroad. While small, it still got job done and fortunately Bill and Charlie pooled money together to get basic cable or the English equivalent to such a thing. Christian didn't catch the details, nor did he care for them. As Christian grew closer to the television and his consciousness restored, a news report rung through his ears.

“…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.”

Christian was in a temporary state of shock. He had since his abilities manifested recently, he could get anyway not having to worry about getting caught "smoking". However, now everything became just a little more difficult, if only because Christian's powers were not in complete control.

"Pretty crazy stuff eh?" Bill said to his roommates.

"You can say that again, mate," Charlie replied, letting the news report run in the background as he rose from the small couch and stretched, releasing a huge yawn. Probably slept there again, Christian thought. Everyone turned to Arthur for his response to the news report, but he just grunted and went back into his room. They turned to Christian, who was still processing his thoughts.

"You okay, Chris?" They both asked simultaneously.

"Oh, yes. I'm fine. Just shocked a bit," Christian said.

Bill and Charlie raised an eyebrow each, judging him. Bill cleared his throat. "You are rarely shocked by things," he replied.

"It's nothing to worry about," Christian assured his friends. He returned to his room and slammed the door shut and fell into his chair. His desk was covered in books, papers, organized in small piles. Many of them were unrelated to one another, but there was one trend: history, myths and ancient texts. After the Atlanteans revealed themselves, Christian took an invested interest in them. It had only been a week or so (he lost track of in between everything), but nevertheless Christian got caught up in the whole "being from Atlantis" concept. It is not everyday you learn grandma and grandpa were probably mermaids or something. He wanted to learn about his heritage, but sadly he did not find as much as he had hoped for. Mostly he found legends, stories and things that just didn't add up. Christian thought he was only looking in the wrong place, but this wasn't a time to dwell on his lack of findings. It was a time to just deal with the facts. He is an Atlantean and he had to answer the summons and meet more members of his kind. It was at this point he drew comparisons to mankind's most constant equality: Fear. Humans always fight what they fear and try to lock it away so it cannot fight back as if they fear losing their position at the top of the food chain. Christian sighed at this realization, knowing he wanted to fight back at this injustice but he could not do anything at the moment. It would take time. He was mostly stressed at having to go out for an extended period of time. During his time researching, trying to learn about his origin, he was trying to hone his powers. Wishing he had more time, Christian managed to be able to maintain a physical form, and got a grip on the most basic aspects of his powers. A lot was left to be desired, but he was content with the results. More control would come with time. At least he learned being emotional made his control erratic.

He gathered his things, clothes and some paperwork and stepped out of his room. Bill and Charlie were cooking up some breakfast, and as usual Arthur's room was locked to all. He snuck into the bathroom and washed up, in a daze, doing everything without much thought. The only thing awoke up from his daze was when Christian stared in the mirror, noticing some more streaks of gray in his black mane. Putting on his regular outfit (accessories and all), halfway soaked with his hair still wet, Christian stepped out of the bathroom. He packed his bag with a few necessities but curiously left a few stapled papers on the table. He made his way to the closet beside the door and put on his favorite black and red racing jacket, almost forgetting his black racing helmet with the design of his favorite game painted on the sides and back. "Taking the bike out?" Bill's voice said in the distance. "You do remember we got class in a bit right?"

"Yeah," Christian muttered. "I do not think i am going to class today. Can you give my professors the papers on the table for me?"

"Yeah, but what do you want me to tell them?"

"Make up a story. You are good at those," Christian replied with complimentary charm.

"Think you will be home tonight?" Charlie interrupted the little moment. "I was going to cook up something for supper tonight. Its for a class. I need to cook up an original dish and survey it. I was hoping you'd help, You are the only one honest enough to tell me if it is terrible or not. Bill's too nice and Arthur never talks."

"I'll have to see. I'll try. Call you guys later," Christian said with a half wave, closing the door gently on his way out. Hating elevators, Christian walked down the stairs into the lower levels of the parking garage. He was the only one with any sort of vehicle, so by default he got to keep the parking spot all to himself. Mounting his motorcycle, Christian secured his bag, put on his gloves and equipped his helmet before racing off in typical egotistical motorcycle fashion. Rarely one to observe traffic laws, Christian raced through the crowded streets of London only respecting the foreign laws when he noticed a police officer in the vicinity. He got pulled once before, barely able to walk away with a warning. He took a number of shortcuts through some alleys on his way to the Atlantean Centre. He arrived later than he wanted to however, unable to bypass the influx of vehicles and people at the centre. It seemed many people saw the news report and wanted to sign up for the register card as to avoid any sort of unsightly incidents.

Upon entering the building, he was directed a painfully long line. It seemed to make no progress in the hour or so that he remained on the line, though he witnessed a number of people be rejected. Why anyone would want to pose as an Atlantean was beyond Christian's comprehension. The only reasonable explanation would be gain insight into the society itself. Not that would do much.

After some time, it was his turn. A menacing guard and his close friend, stabbed Christian in the arm with some sort of needle (luckily he took his jacket off a while back when he entered the building or otherwise the whole building would up in smoke) leaving a bump in its wake. He was lead through the doors and ended up in a room with a few doctors to undergo further tests. It seemed whatever solution was in the needle was a preliminary round. Now it was time for the real test. Christian sat a desk and stared his doctor waiting for the next step.

"Name?" the doctor asked, apathetic at the whole situation. Bored of the day, Christian was already getting a bad feeling about it. The needle from earlier didn't help.

"Christian Calaway." The two corresponded briefly, taking down Christian's information. The minor details that Christian said offhand with little concern for the repercussions. He had to give him the information even if he didn't want or face punishment later.

"And what can you do, Mr. Calaway?" The doctor asked, trying his best to sound polite and interested. Clearly this doctor got the boring ones. It was this time that Christian reached a crossroads. He could explain his power in a polite manner or he could demonstrate his power in a rebellious manner because of his opposition of profiling every one of his people out of some form of fear. He decided against the latter, but still wanted to cause some uproar. Christian transformed himself into a thick gray fog like substance, gradually filling the room with smoke, causing the weaker people in the room to suffer from minor asthma attacks. After a few moments and nearly causing the fire alarm to beep, he recollected the generated smoke into his body and returned to a solid state. Truthfully, he intended only to transform and flutter around...but the doctor would get the point.

"I control smoke (poorly)."

"I can see that…" the doctor said speechless. He handed Christian the finished paperwork and directed him to the waiting room. It was a crowded room, full of people and rarely any seats. Christian leaned on a wall, playing with his hair a bit before finally taking a deep breath.

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