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Λtlantis Λwakening [IC] [M]
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April 20th, 2013 (3:54 PM).
James Hazen- London, England and ???
James looked at Nate from inside of the taxi cab. He seemed to be debating the decision to come along the same way James did. He wasn’t surprised. No sane man would decide to do something like this out of the blue without putting at least a little thought into it. Still, he wondered what exactly the large man was debating in the first place. They all had their own burdens and thoughts to carry them down, each unique to their own character. James wondered what exactly it was that made him hesitate. Was it what he was possibly leaving behind, or was it the thought of the unknown as he moved forward? Or was it perhaps something different altogether?
When he finally did seem to decide to join them, James felt a bit more relieved about his own decision to join. He figured Nate seemed competent enough, so it made his own decision seem not as reckless or impulsive. He tried to move over enough to allow him enough room to sit, albeit without much success as he knew there wasn’t much room to go around. However, that was quickly remedied as Henry hit his hand on the roof of the vehicle, transforming the interior into a spacious one akin to a more larger vehicle. James exhaled as he was able to easily spread his legs without getting in the way of the others or having any discomfort. Oakley, the other passenger in the car, decided to introduce herself to him.
"Hi, I'm Oakley." She said. James turned to her, momentarily observing her appearance. He noted that without her large hulky metal arm, she appeared to only be a frail little girl. It was strange that deep inside her, she held such incredible power. One would not be able to tell had they looked at her as she was now.
“Yea, I heard.” James stated simply, ignoring the proper introduce course as he turned away from her and looked ahead, awaiting Henry to take them wherever it was they were going. However, he remembered that in this situation, he may be with the two of them for quite a while, so he reminded himself he should probably feign niceties, even if he didn’t completely mean them. With a sigh, he turned back to Oakley. “James.” He added, before turning his head forward again, observing Henry as he made his next move.
"Alright, this will only take a second," Henry said, and James knew that he wasn’t bluffing, as exactly a second later, they were gone from the streets of London, and were somewhere entirely different. What exactly it was, James couldn’t tell due to the darkness. Henry walked out of the car, telling the others to wait for a moment and as he came back, he clapped his hand, causing a sudden flash of light to emanate through the room, which James found to be quite large, one his eyes had adjusted to this new amount of light. Inside were all manner of planes, trains, and automobiles. It was an enormous garage. Classic cars, limited editions, the sort a collector would have. Some were vintage, probably long having been halted in production. James wasn’t much of a car man himself, but he did appreciate a collection of this grandeur. However, he also began to wonder how Henry had managed to collect such a set of these pieces. He didn’t appear to be that old, yet James believed he was a lot older than he led on. And why not? The man seemed to have so many different abilities already. Alteration of age wouldn’t be something too special to a guy like him.
They were led out of the large room full of cars and down a hallway filled with paintings and pieces of supposedly famous tapestry. James merely rolled his eyes. He had never really developed the level of appreciation of art that so many others had. Some were interesting true, but for the most part, he had trouble understanding how so many of those pieces had become famous and priceless, when he didn’t find them all that special. He felt a similar disdain towards cars and other objects people called works of ‘art’. In his opinion, they were so named because people one day decided that those who did something like this were artistic. A norm was developed which dictated that which was considered ‘beautiful’ and that which wasn’t. This didn’t merely apply to art, but to many other aspects of society as well. James wouldn’t have any of it. Why should others decide for him what he should consider beautiful and repulsive, or flawed and perfect? Those were the current society’s beliefs, not his.
As they were led to the kitchen, Henry offered them some sweets. James declined, having somewhat recently eating, and not particularly in the mood for the snacks. He wanted to learn more about his ability. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be in the plan for today, instead suggesting he was willing to answer any question they had instead. James rolled his eyes, not at all what he wanted to hear. The only thing he truly wanted to know more about was his own ability.
Still, seeing as he wouldn’t be getting that opportunity tonight, he figured he’d at least get to know a bit more about who everyone else is in all of this.
“Alright,” James began, looking at Henry and Adeline. “You can start by telling me who exactly you’re with. I heard of the Atlantean Royal Family on the news. Are you with them? If not, who exactly are you with?” He eyes moved between the two of them, before he decided to keep them focused on Henry instead. After thinking for a moment, he added something else, “Actually, might as well tell me everyone who’s involved, since I get the feeling there’s more than one group associated with the Atlanteans. You sure as hell weren’t with those other guys back at the building in London.”
OOC: Posted for Supervegeta. Again. Seriously, when will he get a new computer?
Paired with the beautiful
Joined Apr 2008
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