#convo:xander

[atlasxrose]

@xander-amyntoros​

Working with Aegon was a dream, Atlas’ other half handled the books and Atlas did all the real work. But it was seasonably warm, and oddly sunny for fall. Everyone had the day off, Woven was closed for the day. Corinth had been his home for years now, he loved it here, loved the adventures, the people, and to some extent he loved the danger too. Atlas had always needed purpose, he was once a witch born with the gift of sight - he divined meaning from clouds, dreams, birds, stars. Anything he could get his hands on had a hidden lesson etched in its underbelly. Now, Atlas was a fury. He’d have centuries of time alongside his immortal other half, the things they could do together, the places they could go. The stories they would someday tell. It all excited Atlas a great deal more than Aegon, Xander least of all Atlas thought. Because the former vampire knew something that Atlas did not yet, a fact that was too painful for Atlas to admit outloud: someday the fury would tire of eternity, and all that would be left was heartache and the people who punctuated the bright places in between. Xander, too, might someday become such a punctuation. 

“My brother keeps asking me when you’re going to propose.” Atlas stated simply as he stopped in at Xander’s office at the museum, his boyfriend the relic was older than at least half the things the Corinthians had on display here. The fury set a pair of coffees down between them before he took a seat on the corner of Xander’s desk, “I don’t think I can tell him that I’m not interested in marriage anymore because he knows I’m lying. So, what should I say?” Not done talking yet, he didn’t let Xander answer before he spoke again. “I found something in the Underworld the last time I was there, you’ll never guess what it is.” 

[markusxcamlann]

@xander-amyntoros​

The last time they’d parted Markus was still coming off of being freshly brought back from the pit, maybe his behaviour was... less than ideal, particularly because all Xander had really expressed was concern. Finding the man came simply enough, there was a time when Xander was his sire, and even before that, they’d been in love. Tracking him down was second nature to Markus now. “There’s something different about you.” He observed, if Xander expected an apology he would be disappointed, but he was here, and he had questions for someone who was even older than him. “Cut your hair?”

[ikarosxtheoinos]

@xander-amyntoros

“I brought you something,” Ikaros smiled as he deposited a crate of wine onto Xander’s kitchen table. He was happy for his friend, the two of them had a long history together and times like this were worth celebrating. The trickster had no idea what had possessed the man to make the decision that he had, it wasn’t something that Ikaros himself believed in but as long as his invitation found its way in the mail then it was worth it. “I was in a state when you told me, consider this an apology, I’ll even provide all the wine for the reception, free of charge. Congratulations, I’m happy for you.” 

[petrichorxathanasios]

@xander-amyntoros​

The pain had become tolerable, at least in a sense. His powers still felt distant to him, as if there was a wall of agony between where he was and where he needed to be. The old one’s thoughts were drawn to those who were kept from the storm, to the librarian that Petrichor had all but dismisses as a monster, to his sister who would fight the storm itself if she could. Gabriel would survive the storm, there was no doubt in his mind about that, Ptolema, too, was not so easily beaten. He was concerned for the others. For Lucas, for Sebastian, and of course for Rowan. She was perhaps even more headstrong than the others. Then, of course, there was Henry, he had revealed to the man much, but was it enough to keep the human alive?  “Tell me, Hephaestion,” Petrichor spoke when the two were well enough away from the crowd, Phoenix braced himself against one of the walls when they came to a stop, they were checking once more for any imperfections in the collapse, a gap that might afford them an escape. “you’ve lived your fair share of lifetimes, who do you think is behind this?”

[mylesxdelian]

@xander-amyntoros​

Few were the stories of mortal lives that were of enough interest to catch his attention all the way on the other side of the veil. Elysium was removed enough that Hykinthos did not need to pay attention to the tales that were spread about him if he did not need to. Hephaestion was one such man that he had heard of, well, Myles had heard first of Alexander The Great, his general and personal guard was a name that always came after. Inherently the man respected someone who, like him. had to fight their way out of another’s shadow, he knew all too well how difficult that could be. The Macedonian King who had nearly conquered the world had ended up in Elysium, in the end, he had assumed that Hephaestion would be waiting for him, but Persephone, it seemed, had had other plans. 

“So, this is where you’ve been keeping all this time.” Myles mused, his eyes cast squarely across the bar, his speech short and frank, direct he was not a man who cared to mince words. It was archaic, but as a child he had been raised to value brevity of speech, that hadn’t changed much over the years. Of the two of them, Apollo had always been the poet. “He still waits for you, you know.”

[thiskryptonite]

@xanderdrakos​

At dawn, August bathed in the light of day, he used sand and smoothed stones as he’d done in his youth to remove the film of the Otherworld that clung to his spirit like a second skin. It was far from what he’d felt in the past, more perverse, more profane. He wondered what it was about the fae that left them unimpeded by the crossing, but paid it little mind and less until at last the foul aura had been purged along with the sage that the High Queen had slipped into his system.

He spent the next day kicking over stones where he could find them, the chalice rang true to some obscure references he’d found in the past. But none that he had brought with him to Ashbourne. It took some degree of magic and focus, but August managed to pull through and obtain the text where such an artifact had been referenced. It was among references to human lore on a volume of dark artifacts that Isaac had been seeking, the fountain of eternal youth. It promised life eternal for mortals, but absently the words couldn’t ring true. All things came at a price, he thought distantly to his aunt’s crooning laughter: the only thing certain in the lives of us mortals, is death. 

Such a thing shouldn’t exist, not rightly. It was out of the pages of an odyssey, some quest that would never quite be fulfilled. And he was expected to find it within the course of a week. August found Xander once more, eager to find out what the fae had learned since the last time they had spoken. “Do you have any preference on what I should call you now?” August greeted, not sure what to sift from his experience in the fae realm - why Xander? “Feels strange to call you Xander when I know now your name is Vitalis.” Stranger still that the air fae had never told him before, but August had never thought to ask, and in the vastness of the other fae’s life, it was just another detail. 

[endlessdrifter]

@voxvulgi liked this for a starter

“Aiight, listen here ya mooc, and listen closely because I’m not gonna repeat this again,” Max groaned, looking as irritated as he was tired while addressing the blond hunter in front of him. This situation was getting out of control and the only thing he wanted was to be left alone... Was it so hard to understand?

“I don’t give a rat’s arse what yer stomach-explodin’ sister told ya, I am not a vampire. I. Am. Not. A. Vampire. How do I have to spell it for ya all to understand!?”

[atlasxrose]

@xander-amyntoros​

Somehow no longer plagued by engagements, the air felt lighter in their house. Xander, too had a newfound sense of purpose and a power he was yet to understand. Alecto told Atlas that the power his boyfriend now wielded was an ancient one that had been returned to this world recently, but he was still mortal. Despite all that Atlas and the other furies had done, more dangerous creatures flocked to the city: manticores, dryads, and now dragons. If Xander had awoken one day with this power then that meant there was likely others who had done the same, others who could very easily abuse this gift. There was much to think about, and Atlas always did his best thinking in front of his loom - it helped also to calm the fury instinct within him. The biting anger telling him to go out and hunt, to throw himself into the fire. The door to his craft room opened and he greeted Xander’s handsome face with a smile before he turned his attention back to the shuttle in his hand. “Well, did you have fun?” Atlas asked, teasingly. “We’re not going to get a mob of angry farmers at our door complaining about eaten livestock, are we?”

[markusxcamlann]

@xander-amyntoros​

“When are you going to get another dog?” Markus questioned, he was looking at Kyon as he gave her muzzle some much needed attention. Large hands scratched at the dog who’s disposition had always been pleasant, but now was beaming under the other’s care. He didn’t know if Xander had his memories of the veil back yet, and he didn’t particularly care, the witch had his own demons to contend with. “Kyon needs a sibling, and she’s still young enough that socializing them would be easy.” 

[ikarosxtheoinos]

@xander-amyntoros​

“I heard a rumour that you could finally get drunk again.” Ikaros smiled, he saddled up next to Xander at the bar, the kobalos was in turmoil, but he characteristically covered as much with a toothy grin before he ordered ouzo for the two of them. Everything that had happened with Ela, and Lucian, and the witch’s half-brother Nixon had the trickster in knots. No matter how he looked at it the man felt as if he was losing something, that one or all of the three would end up hurt in the end. So, he decided to drink instead. And drinking was always better in pairs. Ikaros held up his shot glass, “Now bottoms up, and don’t fucking argue with me.” 

[thiskryptonite]

When in Rome

Tagging: Xander Drakos & August Knight

Time Frame: January 13th - 19th, 2019

Word Count: 1945

Trigger Warning: Alcohol, Slavery, Dark Themes

Notes: August breaks away from the party and finds Vitalis (Xander) who proceeds to give him a small tour of some of the ancient world. INCOMPLETE.

August

The evening had moved past him in a blur, how long had it been? August could not say. Time felt different here, the spring weather made him exuberant and excitable, though perhaps that was the wine and the very fine faerie food he’d indulged in previously. August lay, languid across the lap of someone  he barely knew as the fae recited poetry he implied was a work of his own. August tasted grapes and wine and smiled, despite himself. 

 “The life so brief, the art so long in the learning, the attempt so hard, the conquest so sharp, the fearful joy that ever slips away so quickly - by all this I mean love,” fingers caressed his cheek and absently August cringed. Was he reciting Chaucer? “...which so sorely astounds my feeling with its wondrous operation, that when I think upon it I scarce know whether I wake or sleep.” 

Yeah, he definitely was. Absently August had to wonder how many had succumbed to that tactic. How many had swooned at stolen, honeyed words. Barf. The fae leaned in and from the corner of his eye, August caught the sight of a familiar face and sat up immediately. Hungry for an excuse to get away from this particularly grating plagiarist. “Where are you going?” The fae asked as August stood to leave without so much as a goodbye, “sobriety calls.” August dismissed, not looking back as he made his way towards Vitalis. “Tell me about late Rome? Tell me again about how it fell.”

Xander

Xander had been enjoying his time at the sarau for as long as he could; entertaining the other fae that he didn't know well enough to care about. He missed his old friends, but even now, faces were always missing, and the gatherings got smaller and smaller. He nearly ran off to hide until he heard a familiar voice, glancing over his shoulder to see August running after him. "Don't you have someone else to bother?" The air fae tried not to laugh, wrinkling his nose at the question, "Everyone says Rome fell. No one seems to remember that it split into two – while Western Rome fell, Constantinople thrived. Either way, what do you want to know? What it looked like?" He turned to walk backwards, his eyes glowing brighter for a few moments as the reality between the two of them began to morph. "Rome was all....magnificent archways, shining marble – and conquest. Rome was shitty, but everyone seems to love it. If you want beauty, you should've asked for the shores of the Nile, and the golden pathways of Thebes. How much do you know about the ancient world, kid?"

August

Vitalis’ greeting was predictable, but warm in that it was familiar. The party, however grand and entertaining, was far removed from anything August had yet to experience. The fights were more gilded than the ones he’d experienced, the wine was stronger, the food was richer, and the fae, however blessed among their own. Were embodiments of the disharmonious elements that they each represented. It had been a rich experience, but like any, he began to see the cracks below the surface quickly. The resentment in the eyes of some, the longing in the eyes of others, the sorrow and grief that stained the empty seats. “At the moment? No.” August said, absently wondering where Aria might have gotten off to, but so far everything the witch had seen was -relatively- safe, he was sure she was fine, whereever she was right now.  He followed Vitalis' as the fae's eyes shone more brilliantly, “I know as much as one can find through books and the like, and from what you’ve shown me in the past.” The witch said thoughtfully, “I don’t think there has ever been a great society without some rot, some perhaps more than others, but I would be eager to see the Coliseum, you’ve yet to take me there.” 

Xander

"What, you've never been there to see it crumbling a little? They take pretty good care of it – but huge monuments like theaters are always the longest to last. People just live around it. How do you think Cairo grew to be so big? They took stone from the pyramids. It's why they look like they're made of steps. The tops used to be made of pure gold, and the outside was beautiful white stone. Now, it's the old stone underneath that's shown because over time, people just starting taking stones from the pyramids. It's why I hate the human world. They can't take care of the beautiful monuments left behind from their own ancestors. It's ridiculous." Alexander created a new scene around them, one that was filled with the sounds of a typical Agora. The cobbled streets of Rome were dusty and dirty; children running, guards patrolling – it was everything he'd seen when he was there. "Rome was filled with people. They praised the gods they found in Greece; hailed for treasures that they thought would please their gods." The Colosseum was in front of them now, restored in all of its former glory. "Titus took all the credit for finishing it. They used to play out sea battles, believe it or not. My favorites were the gladiators. You know, you'd think they'd be strong and glorious – most of the time they were missing fingers or an eye and some teeth. Definitely not worth your time. Every now and then they'd bring in an exotic from the East, and I have to say they were the attractive ones. Which is why I'd save them when I could. No one that pretty deserves to die like that."

August

“Sadly no, most of my experiences were scattered between casinos in Vegas, and road trips through the Midwest.” August said easily, “I’d hoped I’d end up in Rome eventually, it was on the list of things I’d like to see, next to the pyramids actually. It is detestable, that such marvels could be created only to be stripped bare.I  read that the ancient Egyptians used slaves to transport the stones from a great distance,” August paused for a moment, he imagined that they were quite the sight to see once. “It seems to be the case for all great human structures that they were built upon the backs of those who endured great and long suffering.” He saw the jewels and the gold in his mind’s eye but somehow underneath, he just saw how it rot. The street that Vitalis transformed before him was bustling, full, exciting. He wondered what magics this era might have offered, if they went back millennia further to ask mythical Circe the legendary secrets of transformation. Absently, August sighed. “They must have been grateful to you,” August chimed, though it was a shame that Vitalis was not able to save more, though August imagined that the air fae much felt the same. “Where did you sit? In the times that you came here.” 

Xander

“Vegas and the Midwest?” Alexander found himself laughing, wrinkling his nose as he looked fondly at the young witch. “North America built on top of everything that was once held sacred by a people who had been there far longer than the Spanish and other Europeans who claimed the land. They were curious as to why the land was barren when they got here and built on skeletons.” He waved his hand, getting completely off topic as he tried to steer the conversation back towards Rome. “Slaves were the norm; anyone could become a slave. If you were the son of a noble and were captured by Spartans, you would have no titles in Laconia. You would simply be another Greek tragedy. Gladiators were slaves - and I could only save so many. And the lives they all lived? Some were good, some were not worth saving. I took care of the ones who weren’t.” He pulled August up onto one of the stands, the echoes of the fight reaching even the highest section. “Wherever I wanted. But here was nice.” The people of Rome were just as he remembered, and the colors of the fabric woven in to the clothes of the nobles compared to the middle class was evident as well. “What do you think?” He asked curiously, changing their scenery to the banks of the Nile.

August

August smiled in return, it was nice to hear the acknowledgment from another. “Colonialism,” August said, the word rolled off his tongue somewhat disdainfully. “My aunt told me our families’ coven had its origins among those people who called the land sacred. My ancestor walked among banks of roses at night, and became known as a man who did such things. The colonists shortened it to just ‘Knight’ for census.” Now an entire coven thrived under it. “Did you have opportunity to see it beforehand?” He imagined desserts that ran uninterrupted for miles, evergreens that rolled the hills and mountains of the Pacific Northwest. He’d always wanted to go north, the thought made him smile despite that it was impossible now. “I suppose,” August hummed as Vitalis went into greater explanation, it was true, when society was stratified class systems made such things common. Practical even. And it wasn’t limited strictly to human society, how else would such pyres of human sacrifice be built. Aptly, August took in the sights as Vitalis unveiled them, sand that rolled through the floor, raucous cheers and laughter that became more contained the higher the two of them climbed. The fae never failed to disappoint, though to him this was just another in a long line of memories - apparently one of lesser interest to Vitalis. The division was clear as they stood at the summit, absently, August wondered where he himself might have sat. Absently he could spy a dark corner, suitable for a social pariah to gaze up at everything that was out of his reach someday he’d say.

It was a relief when the scenery changed, the waters, the richest he’d ever seen. Water rolled across vast and rich, lush sights and settlements and creatures of all forms sculpted the landscape. Lazy amphibians rolled in the muck, or lurked waiting in its depths, monuments in the distance greater and more beautiful than any he’d seen prior; a cornucopia of life as exuberance lifted into the sky. August smiled, it was beautiful, but he was still considering the fae’s question. “I think it is sad,” he hummed lightly before he wandered to the beach, not fearing harm by any of the many-toothed animals that called the banks of the Nile their home. Absently he knelt and felt the grains of fertile sand beneath his fingers, it seemed so real. So powerful was the fae’s magic, but it was still different from what August had expected.

 “The court had many beauties, but here I can say I almost prefer the illusion,” August said, pausing for a moment before he looked at Vitalis- he looked different from what the witch had known him as before. But still he felt the same. He could not help but think he preferred him this way, here, he was in his element, but absently they were frozen in time. It would be too easy to stay here forever, a million questions puddled and pooled in the witches mind, but he was grateful to be with someone he thought of fondly. Someone who answered his questions with only some scathing tones. “But I suspect you feel the same, does it trouble you to bring me here?”

[atlasxrose]

@xander-amyntoros​​

The loom at the house wasn’t as nice as the one he kept at his shop, at least that was his excuse for the late hours he’d been working lately. That, coupled with the hunts he’d been going on with Sofia had kept him from the house more often than not. Kyon had been a frequent companion, even if she frequently whined for Xander. Atlas sat before his loom now in his craft room before he heard the door open behind him, the other’s presence was a familiar one, and duly comfortable. Whatever Xander had said Atlas ignored it, instead set to task of passing his shuttle along over and under the threads that were kept tense by the supports. Atlas glanced over his shoulder at the other, “There are leftovers in the fridge, you can have that for dinner.” 

[atlasxrose]

@xander-amyntoros​

Magic had returned, and with it came the Alecto’s voice in the back of his head, the draw towards vengeance and rage. But Jax was back, and if that meant he’d spend an eternity feeling this way... Then it had to be worth it. He still had the mortal years left with the man that he loved, and so long as he had Xander then whatever negativity he felt about the restoration of the veil was easily mitigated. Atlas still had a wedding to plan, and if he was going to do anything then he was absolutely going to outdo Rae’s ceremony. Just twin things. He was sat at the kitchen table glueing different fabrics to the dream board he was putting together for their big day when he heard the front door open and Kyon come bounding towards him, Xander shortly behind. “How was work?”

[atlasxrose]

@xander-amyntoros​

“Do you think Kyon is going to be okay with the sitter?” She had cried and cried when the couple had to leave for the night and Atlas could still see the look on her face when he and Xander had had the audacity to leave without her. “We could always just go home, I mean, do we really need to be at this thing?”

[atlasxrose]

@xander-amyntoros​​

“Things have been weird between us,” Atlas stated, “well, I guess, I’ve been weird.” The fury was having a hard time reconciling what he was now with what the two of them were supposed to be, together. For Xander, humanity had always been the goal, a rumour that here in Corinth was transformed into fact. The two were meant to grow old together, and to someday greet old friends and lovers hand-in-hand in the Elysian fields of paradise. While Xander would continue to age, and someday he would greet this fate, Atlas could never follow. He did not even know what would await him if something managed to kill him, whether Alecto’s claim over his soul would end, or if it would follow him even after his death. “I don’t regret becoming a fury, but I regret losing the future that we were meant to have, together. I never told you what I saw the day I looked at your palm, the day we first met - I’d like to show you, now, if you’ll let me.”

[atlasxrose]

@xander-amyntoros​

The first day had passed, and while Atlas could not gather the will to get out of bed, he instead remained buried under the covers. In his gut a gnarled and hateful beast twisted upon itself, he blamed himself, he blamed his sister, he blamed Xander, he blamed Anastasia, he blamed the rifts, and he even found it in himself to blame Ajax. As if the reaper could be held accountable for his own death. The first day his lover had permitted Atlas’s indulgence of the dark, the quiet despondence that had overtaken the witch turned fury turned human. He supposed he understood it, if anyone understood pain and loss, it was Hephaestion. 

The second day Xander had made attempt at drawing open the blinds, at forcing light and fresh air into the foul-smelling chamber. He teased him that he needed a shower, but instead of coming back with a jest of his own or some sarcastic remark, Atlas merely rolled over and pulled the blankets over his head. He didn’t eat, and he hardly drank. The world was quiet, still, and when he heard the door close at last, Atlas got up only to close the curtains. 

It was the third day when Atlas cried at last, it was accidental in a way. He awoke at some point in either the late evening or early morning - time was beginning to be something that Atlas thought on less and less. But when he awoke in the dark, with nothing but the deep snores of Xander beside him the thready wheezes of Kyon at their feet, Atlas reached for his phone. Sometimes when he couldn’t sleep he’d text him, and it was only when he was mid-sentence that he realized no one would be on the other end to receive it. 

His sobs had robbed Xander of whatever sleep he’d hoped to get that night, and instead he held Atlas against his battle-scarred chest until at last exhaustion overtook him once more and Hypnos spirited him away. Atlas awoke the next afternoon to the sound of Kyon whining at the end of the bed, Xander had been taking her to work the last few days, if only to give Atlas space to grieve. But, she wanted to be let out, she needed to be fed, to be given water, and if he didn’t do this then this room really was going to reek. 

Atlas let her out into the backyard and lingered in the door frame as she ran circles through the grass, herding invisible animals she’d likely never even met. He let his thoughts wander to goats, maybe another dog, the cats he’d been talking about getting for well over a year. Atlas kind of thought it was unfair that a sheep-dog would have nothing to shepherd, no friends other than the pair of men who doted on her as if she were a child. 

That night he managed to sleep, though his ear did not leave Xander’s chest, the steady thrum of the man’s heartbeat beneath his ear kept him warm, kept reminding him that they were alive. He let himself wonder for the first time what Ajax would say, what Ajax would do, he wondered only to himself in the dead of the dark if his friend had found happiness on the other side. So, the next day when he woke, he did so when Xander rose to leave for work, and saw him off even if a part of him wished the man could always stay. The museum had survived the storm, but the artifacts within were vulnerable, and they needed someone with knowledge and experience to oversee them and any reparations that were to occur. 

That morning when he let Kyon outside, he went with her. Off chain as Xander had so often put it. As a witch he’d always been attuned to nature, he could feel the magic in the buried roots of trees, the power that emanated from herbs and flowers. As a fury, magic was still part of his existence but it was... Different. Loud. There was an undercurrent of spite to it, of anger. It seeped into his bones and distilled his actions, his thoughts. It was like fire under his nerves, and Atlas had become so accustomed to it over the last few months that he hadn’t noticed it. 

Atlas and Kyon wandered from the yard, to the forest, and his footsteps must have followed a familiar path because after a few short hours of hiking, the now-human found himself in front of a hovel. Overgrown in its entirety, the fallen tree was now unrecognizable from the haven that it had once been, covered in lichen and faunce, as if still bewitched by the magic that had formed it, late-winter butterflies, and early-spring critters roamed it. He knelt into the soft grass, the earth that quenched and sank beneath his feet, and felt the forest beneath his fingertips.  Kyon wined for attention, then took off to busy herself by chasing about the creatures that she saw as toys: butterflies cowered in fear, squirrels ran off in terror, and Atlas could only laugh at her small displays of power. 

This place had been his refuge once, a place to hide away from the monsters of his past, and there, buried deep within, Atlas knew what lurked there still. What he had hoped to keep forgotten forever, it was a grudge, a curse from his past, one that pulled on his heart even now. He had no strength left in him to be petty, to be hateful, to be afraid, to resent anyone - it’s not what Ajax would have wanted. Atlas knew that, and however strong the trio had been, Jax was always the best of them. Deep within the rotted tree that was once his earthen home, Atlas found that which he’d kept secret, a jar, with a simple blue light within. There was no magic within the soul that it contained, not anymore, this purgatory that he had condemned Iris to was not his responsibility anymore. 

Atlas released the lid, and watched the spirit fade, hoping  her shade would make its way back to the Underworld where it belonged. 

On their journey home, Atlas stopped and gathered flowers as he once did, some stray herbs that always tasted better wild than they ever did when grown in a garden, or found in a market. He felt air entering his body again, felt the sun on his face, this was not magic, this was only living, and if Ajax was here then Atlas chose to believe that his friend would find a way to convince him to find a purpose in continuing. He was no longer a witch, no longer a weapon carved for vengeance - he was something else. Atlas was human, and perhaps at last he and Xander could have the life together they always wanted. 

When Atlas got home he had a long overdue shower, Kyon wined at the door the entire time, and after he was done thoroughly scrubbing the week’s worth of misery from his body, he set to hanging the flowers he’d hung across the kitchen window. The rich scent of lavender, hyacinth, and roses muddled with thyme and fragrant basil, all combined to be sweet, fragrant, rich. Atlas had intended to cook something for dinner, but he’d sat in front of his loom that he had moved to the kitchen window and lost track of time until he heard Xander enter through the front door and immediately head towards the bedroom. 

“I’m in here!” Atlas called out, he felt lighter now, still sad, perhaps there was a part of him that would always be sad. But he’d buried Jax months ago, and when he had done so last Atlas had supplemented the void that the man left with hate and vengeance. He chose this time to replace what he’d lost with love, and hope, that was his true nature, that was his destiny. Atlas saw that now, saw the spellbinding effect of being a fury for what it was, and all the years of grief he’d gone through that led him to that point. Kyon had been snoozing on his feet up until Xander opened the front door, now she bolted towards him, barking and yearning for attention. Atlas set his shuttle down and looked to Xander now as the other entered the kitchen, “I went outside today, you’d be proud.”