Categories > Cartoons > Class of the Titans > Practice

That Familliar Feeling

by Lutrani 0 reviews

Category: Class of the Titans - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Warnings: [!!] [?] - Published: 2008-09-01 - Updated: 2008-09-02 - 2458 words

The tiny marketplace buzzed around her, its busy energy engulfing her as she moved effortlessly between stalls. There was nothing like this back home in Canada, narrow streets pushing up against wooden stalls packed with exotic fruits and wares; People yelling in the streets, gesturing wildly to advertise this piece of artwork or that piece of jewellery; Small children running around her feet, giggling as they nicked small pieces of fruit from stalls when no one was looking. Yet even as she basked in the strangeness of it all, the scene seemed oddly familiar, as if at some point in her life she had come here unawares. The feeling only got worse the further she went into the crowded commerce center, to the point where it was the only thing she could think about, the former splendour of the atmosphere a mere shadow in her thoughts.

“Phil, do you get the feeling like you’ve been somewhere like this before?” She asked finally, unable to contain herself. She turned to her boyfriend, who had been lagging considerably behind her since they’d arrived. He had both hands deep into his jean pockets, and wore the expression of someone who was not pleased to be where he was, and wasn’t afraid who knew. He kind of looks like a pouting kid. Atlanta thought to herself, smiling.

“Atlanta I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He replied gruffly, casting a wary gaze around the scenery. “Can we go now please?”

Atlanta gave her boyfriend a thorough look over. He had been acting strange ever since they’d arrived in New Olympia. Normally the dread-head was calm and collected in any situation they found themselves it, whether it be facing down a logging truck in Victoria, or scaling a cliff face on one of their frequent multi-day off-trail camping trips (now THERE was a story). But today he seemed suspicious and jittery, like he expected something scary to jump out at him every time they turned the next corner. She didn’t like this behaviour from him, and decided quickly in her mind not to humour him. She’d come here to explore and shop, and soothing Phil’s irrational fears wasn’t a good enough reason to give that goal up.

“No, I’m not done.” She replied curtly, turning away from him and pretending to be extremely interested in a jewellery stall she’d found herself in front of. She heard his sigh loudly behind her, and she smiled a little in satisfaction. But then her eye caught a necklace hanging from a display on the booth. It looked to be silver, with a round pendant decorated with black square carvings encircling a blue stone in the center. It was obnoxiously big for her tastes, and normally her eyes would have scanned over such a piece with no second thought. However, like the marketplace, the pendant tugged at the back of her mind. She had seen this before somewhere before, she knew it.

“Fine. I’m going to the Green Energy Seminar, I can’t take this place anymore.” Phil announced suddenly, breaking her chain of thought. She looked up from the stall, peering at Phil over her shoulder.

“Fine.” She said. She was still a little mad at him for the childish way he was acting. “I’m staying here. See you at the Hostel tonight.” She finished, looking back at the stall and doing her best to pretend like she wasn’t paying attention to Phil behind her.

“Fine.” Phil replied shortly. She could hear him shuffling his way between the masses of people crowded around the stalls, mumbling angrily. She turned around when she was sure he was gone. To be honest, she has begun to get a little creeped out by the marketplace. The déjà-vu feeling was almost overwhelming, and it annoyed her that she couldn’t fit the place to a memory. But she wasn’t about to tell Phil that. Leaving with him would only have validated the immature attitude he was taking with her, and she wasn’t impressed by the way he was acting. She’s meet him later at the Hostel, where they’d be cold to each other for a little while, but she knew that all too soon things would be back to their happy ways. That was how things worked with Phil and her, ever since he had stumbled into her life almost 3 years ago now. She smiled to herself as the brought the memory to her mind. He had been in the woods while she’d been hunting, almost like he was waiting for her. They’d tracked a moose for almost 5 hours after that, sensing a common goal. In the end, they stumbled on a grizzly that had already made the moose it’s supper, and had to retreat nervously into the undergrowth to keep the animal from attacking. That night they’d shared the same campfire, laughing over their grizzly bear experience and sharing hunting stories. She’d been with him every since.

She still had the goofy smile on her face when her eyes drifted over the necklace again. She smile vanished instantly as the unsettling feeling of déjà-vu rose at the back of her throat once more.

“I see you looking at that necklace” An oily voice said suddenly. Atlanta’s head snapped up and she saw the shopkeeper looking directly at her. “Its pure silver, protects against the evil eye. Would you be interested in purchasing it?” He asked, rubbing his hands together. Atlanta looked down one more time at the necklace.

“No thanks.” She said quickly, turning without meeting the shopkeeper’s eyes. This place was too creepy, she was going to check out the Coliseum.


She saw the building in the distance long before she actually reached it. Like a watchful giant it hung over the city, imposing but impassive. The Coliseum of New Olympia was a replica of the ancient Roman Coliseum, as no such building had existed in the history of the area that New Olympia now stood. However, its replica status made it no less imposing to the passing eye, and to Atlanta, who had come here to further her training, it was truly an awe inspiring sight.

She had seen the ad in the Vancouver Sun three months ago, a state-of-the-art sprinter training program being initiated at the new Coliseum in the sleepy little town of New Olympia. It was hard being an athlete in Canada, especially if you specialized in an underappreciated field such as sprinting. It seemed like Hockey was the only sport that got any funding in her home country, and so far she had been training herself with the money she made as a tour guide in the Sooke Potholes Provincial Park. So when she had seen the offer to bring potential students to the training facility, airfare paid, she’d jumped at the chance. All you needed to do was make a qualifying time in a trial run, and you were in. Atlanta, of course, could make the time in her sleep, the hard part had been convincing Phil to go. For whatever reason, he was adamantly against it, coming up with every excuse not to go that she’d ever heard. But she’d kept at it, and once she’d found out that the European Union was actually holding a Green Energy Conference in New Olympia at the same time, she’d finally broke him down. But she’d had to promise him that they were only going for the two days she needed to check out the program. She hadn’t really understood, but she’d agreed, being grateful that she’d got her way. But he’d been pouting ever since they’d arrived. It made her feel like even thought she got him to go, he had won in the end.

The Coliseum was holding mock Olympic Games, Ancient Greek style, for potential students to attend the day after they arrived, showcasing some of their current students. Atlanta had tickets to that show, but a big part of her wasn’t about the pizzazz and glory that came with being a successful athlete. In fact, in her mind they kind of got in the way of perfecting your sport, like a car’s high beams reflecting in your rear-view mirror while you were trying to drive. She wanted to see the building in the light of day, when it wasn’t trying to show off. When the building was just being itself. Unfortunately for her, she had no control over the tourist industry in the area, and as she neared the building, flocks of tourists came into view in front of her. Like flocks of pigeons who unknowingly fowl monument walls, they bobbed to and forth, snapping photos and talking incessantly about this and that, obstructing her view and her musing. Already annoyed by Phil’s behaviour, this unexpected inconvience grated her nerves, and she was completely absorbed in plans to plow through the crowds when a hard object hit her in the back of the head and sent her neck snapping forward.

“Heads up!” Shouted a voice behind her. She staggered forward into the crowd, sending babbling tourists scattering. Grabbing the back of her head where the object had hit, she caught sight of a soccer ball on the floor. She almost couldn’t believe that it had been a soccer ball that had hit her, she’d never been knocked off her feet by something before, let alone a soft soccer ball. But then her hand ran over groves in her neck and she realized that these were the grooves left by the soccer ball as it’d plowed into her skin. Swearing, she grabbed the soccer ball and stood up.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry I didn’t see where-“ Came a voice behind her. Atlanta spun around, ready to yell at the jackass who had hit her in the back of the head. But as she saw him, her voice caught in her throat. And so did his.

She felt something when she saw the stranger, but it was not an emotion she could explain. It was a deeper feeling than déjà-vu, but not altogether different. Like tasting a favourite dish you’d completely forgotten you’d liked. But at the same time, he didn’t seem like someone you could easily forget. He had grey eyes which stared at her in shock from beneath a whip of bright purple hair that had fallen over his face. His nose stuck out from his face at an awkward angle, like it had been broken in his life and never properly healed. A purple lighter than his hair complimented a triangular gotee on his face, and suggested to her with more than a hint of curiosity that purple was his natural hair color.

“Way to fumble Arch!” Shouted a young man that came up behind the purple-haired boy suddenly. He slapped the stunned youth on the back good-naturedly, snapping him out of his stupor.

“I-uh-shit, sorry.” The purple-haired boy stumbled out his words, looking away from Atlanta’s gaze and rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“It’s… okay.” She muttered back. Atlanta couldn’t believe how small her own voice sounded to her. What was happening? She’d never acted like this.

They both stood awkwardly for a moment, slightly looking each other’s way, but both without anything signifigant to say. Then suddenly the purple-haired boy’s friend reached out and grabbed the soccer ball from Atlanta’s hand, declairing “Thank you!” very loudly, making them both jump slightly.

“Com’on Arch, we’ve only got so many hours of daylight today.” The boy said, taking the shoulders of the purple-haired boy and turning him around slowly, as if leading a small child. The purple-haired boy kept his head turned towards her for a moment. “Yeah.” He replied absent-mindedly to his friend. “uh, sorry, nice to meet you.” He mumbled to Atlanta, just as his head completely turned.

“Yeah.” Atlanta murmured as the other boy led him away.

“Nice to meet you? What the hell was that?” She could hear the other boy mocking the purple-haired stranger as they moved into the distance. Atlanta shook her head as if waking from a dream, and stared dimly around her for a moment.

“Jesus.” She muttered. What the hell is wrong with me? Shaking her head again, this time in disbelief, she decided to forgo her tour of the Coliseum and go to meet Phil at his Seminar. Things were getting too weird for her, and that was why she’d left the marketplace in the first place. Besides, she could check the place out tomorrow during the student demonstrations.


“Damn ketchup packets” muttered the old man as he fiddled with the plastic pouch between his fingers. Steaming fries sat before him, a treat from his favourite hotdog stand. He’d retreated to a park bench under the dim light of a street lamp to enjoy his dinner, but things were never as simple as they seemed.

“You’d think after 2000 years they could come up with a better way to distribute these things.” He tried for the packet one more time, only to succeed in ripping the packet in two and splattering the red goo over his cloths. “Dammit!” He yelled. Then, in a much quieter voice, he said “I can see you in the dark there Cronus, why don’t you step into the light to talk to me?”

A man chuckled, more to himself than for the benefit of anyone else, and stepped out of the shadow into the light of streetlight the old man was seated under. “You know, for the Oracle, you really should have seen that coming.” He muttered, gesturing to the old man’s stained shirt.

“Yes, well, things don’t always turn out the way they seem, do they Cronus?” murmured the Oracle. “Are you here for another prophecy about your global takeover?”

Cronus humphed. “I think not Oracle, we all know what that led to the last time.” The old man looked up from his fries for the first time, his eyebrows narrowing behind his sunglasses. “Then what do you want Cronus?”

Cronus smiled, pink scar stretching over his face as he looked down on the frail-looking man. “Oh I think you already know that Oracle.” And as Cronus spoke, a hulking towering shape stepped out of the shadows into a sliver of the streetlight. “This time you’re coming with me old man.”
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