Thread: [Other FULL] Λtlantis Λwakening [IC] [M]
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Old March 6th, 2013 (5:57 AM). Edited March 6th, 2013 by Skymin.
Skymin Skymin is offline
Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: AU
Age: 25
Nature: Quirky
Posts: 5,116

Misha Vedernikov - Atlantean Relief Centre, Warsaw, Poland

October 31st, 2012
"So vhat you are trying to say to me, Anabel, is that even though he vants to eat her, girl still loves vampire?" Misha hastily flipped through the black, binded book in his hand, frowning as he tried to find the page he was looking for. "Also, vhat does... irrevocably mean?"

"I can't believe you're reading that garbage. Where did you get it?" You could almost hear Annie shaking her head over the line.

"I found it in car."

"You're a really bad liar, Misha."

"Okay, I found it in book store."

"You stole it?! ... Okay, did you really ring me to talk about Twilight?" Misha flicked back to the page he was on, and adjusted his reading glasses. They were miniscule compared to the rest of his face.


"Misha, I have way better things to do."

"Then go."

"Fine. Also, your target is approaching. Stop reading your awful literature and go do your job," the reciever clicked and the call ended. Misha licked his thumb, turned the page, read two or three more sentences before placing his bookmark between the pages and placed the book on the passenger seat. He sure had taken his time and his target, Delta had already sneaked herself into the Relief Centre. Though this would make things very much harder, Misha hardly mulled over his options and stepped out of his large SUV. The weather was cold but fortunately that no only was Misha wearing an enormous coat for his enormous body, but his Russian skin was thick and basically immune to the cold. This was t-shirt weather but the coat made him feel like an actual secret agent.

Misha was someone you did not want to walk next to in the street, let alone be on the opposite end of his fist. He was a very tall man, probably around 6'10" (maybe taller) and was the definition of a pro wrestler. His muscles were the size of infants and he could probably break boulders if given the oppourtunity. His face, the subject of a few beatings in his lifetime, was a bit mishapen, but overall found and with little hair. He had a rough, greying goatee (thanks to his age) but his head was as smooth as a bowling ball. His eyes were small and a little beady and were the gateway into his soft, mushy and kind soul. One of his most noticable features was his tattoo; multiple spirals which curled over the right side of his face.

He followed at a slow pace behind the young girl and it wasn't long before she was back out of the Centre, running straight for and past the large, Russian man. He smiled one of his gentle smiles at her and ran for her. She ran fast, especially for a girl in heels, but Misha was a tank with the legs of a horse and was very quick to intercept her by grabbing her from behind and pulling her up over his shoulder.

"Does little girl need help?" he said, raising his free arm at the incoming guards. "These guards are flies compared to Misha!"

He turned his hand into a fist and seemingly out of nowhere, sand mixed with snow and dirt came from the ground and rained on the guards. Caught off guard, they all slipped and fell into it, allowing themselves to be buried in it. Not fatally, just enough for Misha to chuckle, wave and make a light jog back to his car.

"Are you comfortable, girl?" he asked his new companion spread over his shoulder. Manners were something that were not foreign to Misha, but perhaps he took this whole 'recruiting' thing a little wrong.

Oakley North – Atlantean Relief Centre, London, England

October 31st, 2012
Oakley got a bit of a fright when she felt the weight of a jacket being placed on her shoulders. She flinched as she noticed it was a person, much larger than herself, sitting down next to her. How odd it was that a complete stranger would come over and talk to her! Maybe... he was just a polite and friendly person? Oakley hadn't even given talking to another person a second thought, just a big nope.

"Crazy day, isn't it?" he opened with. She semi-agreed with this. She had two weeks to deal with an over sized arm. Comparing today to the previous 14 days, it was pretty okay. "Name's Nathaniel. You could call me 'Nate' if you want. Everyone seems to. What's your name?"

"I guess. My name's Oakley," she said, not sure if she should share a nickname with him. It seemed too personal of a thing. At least he was very open and accepting of friends. She considered asking the man about his ability, but felt perhaps that again, was too personal. What else do you talk about? The weather? It was cold, but nothing really to talk about. Maybe if she just let him steer the words.

"Thank-you. For, for the jacket," was all she could really think of.

??? - ???

October 31st, 2012
"Good morning!" he cheered at his daughter as she strode down the hallway into the kitchen. It was probably 6am or so, maybe a little later. She was not known to sleep in and would greet her father the same way, without fail.

"Good morning, sir."

"I trust you slept well?"

She didn't reply, instead seating herself down at the dinner table and picking up whatever was in front of her. At this point, it was raisin toast, nicely buttered with a dash of strawberry jam. He took her silence as a yes and continued with perfecting his outfit. By outfit, he meant disguise but he didn't want to be so crass.

"How do I look?" he turned around, presenting his final touches to her. She lazily looked him up and down.

"Like a Hawaiian cab driver."

"Excellent!" his 'disguise' consisted of a pair of dirty jeans, worn sneakers, a slightly ripped Hawaiian shirt (perhaps that was overkill) and his face was quite unkept. As much as he hated being anything less than neat, it was vital for the part. As soon as he had finished, he would make sure to change. "Are you ready to leave, after you finish eating?"

"Yes," she was already halfway through her toast and quicky finished it off.

"Would you like me drop you off at school while I'm on the way to work?" he laughed. She didn't.


* * *

It was actually remarkably easy to 'steal' a cab in Hawaii. As long as you walked in and looked like you belonged, nobody questioned you, even if you were unrecognisable. He walked into the car park, placed a hand on the most average looking cab and the lock sprang open after a moment of concentrating. And then, he just drove out, heading down a side street. The roads were unfamiliar (he had never lived in Hawaii or spent more than a few months here) but he seemed to know where he was going. He spotted a figure walking quite quickly down another street, who hailed him down. He didn't hesitate to pull the cab over.

"Airport," the newcomer said rather hastily. With a nod, he pulled the car back on the road, heading in the general direction of the airport but had no intentions of actually going there.

"Now, do you think the airport is a good idea?" he said with a very un-Hawaiian British accent, arching his head back to the newcomer with a small smile on his face. "It's just a little bit suspicious, don't you think? A young person, like yourself, taking a spontaneous flight to somewhere with nothing on them but a passport and a little bit of money." Now, he turned right around, not even looking at the road and no hands on the steering wheel. Despite this, the car didn't veer off the road, still following it perfectly. "With the news about the Atlanteans and this new 'registration' act, one look at that on your neck," he pointed to the tattoo which poked up from the newcomer's t-shirt, "and you'll be detained, kept for questioning and probably sent to some jail somewhere where they can make sure no 'accidents' will happen."

The car turned left down a street and he didn't even flinch, keeping a warm, steady smile on his face.

"I'm not sure you've thought this through."

??? - Atlantean Relief Centre, London, England

October 31st, 2012
It was cold. It was a little wet. From the snow. This didn't deter her. She couldn't get in line quite just yet. She had to wait for the perfect moment.
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