#atlas usynhanth

[paissahut]

i tried the gpose thing and it needs some getting used to

here’s what i took while fiddling with it

[paissahut]

Studies have been fairly easy for Atlas as of late. Everything being taught in his classes are elementary, such as formatting grimoires and outfitting it with proper inks, covers, and holsters. This is stuff he learned at the Arcanist’s guild many months back, but nonetheless he is busy sitting at his desk rehashing his knowledge with no less resolve than before. This cycle of studying has become a ritual to him to the point that he feels unfulfilled the nights he chooses to dedicate towards taking a break and decompressing. Ironically, he enjoys those days less than the ones he spends with his nose stuck in a book.

“Atlas…?” The voice that tentatively rose from Atlas’ linkpearl was not the one he was accustomed to hearing from the device in his ear. It was no less familiar however, and he immediately recognizes it as Yeyelu’s mother. He turns toward the sound as if she were in the room with him.

“Sosoyi! Is everything alright? It’s not like you to reach out to me on--”

“Shut up for a second, would you!”

Atlas is shocked by her interjection. It’s incredibly unlike her to lash out, hence a certain degree of severity is made clear to him and instantly he clams right up.

By the time Sosoyi has spoken up again, she’s in helpless, bumbling tears. “I can’t find Yeye.”

Atlas’ chair is launched backwards by the backs of his knees as he shoots to a stand. Sosoyi makes a choked sound as she can only guess what that ruckus she heard meant. Atlas is just as startled as she is. “So she’s not with you then,” She warbles defeatedly. “Atlas, I don’t know what to do! I can’t manage her anymore since you left the boarding house.”

The studious roe had already abandoned his desk and toppled chair and swung open his dormitory door in a rush. He swings his heavy winter coat over his shoulders as he exits the front entrance of the college well past curfew-- a bold and stupid move he hadn’t imagined he’d ever have to do, especially so soon after beginning his courses. He will have to report himself to his teacher the day after.

“Soso, don’t you worry. I’m on my way over and we’re going to find her.” Atlas keeps his tone calm and assured for her sake, but his hands tremble in fear of the worst.

»»-------------¤-------------««

The ferry ride from the Mists to the city felt like a dreadful crawl. Any speed below that of light would have felt far too slow. By the time he hits landfall it’s already nearing late evening.

“I’m here, Sosoyi. I’m going to sweep through Limsa Lominsa before I head to the boarding house.”

Soso’s voice, now a tired croak, responds. “Thank you Atlas. I’ll continue to search the orchard.”

Atlas decides to take the aethernet throughout the city to each of its most frequented spots first, then he will comb more thoroughly if his search yields no luck. He begins at the Fisherman’s guild and blinks into and out of existence about its other busiest hubs-- the Culinarian’s Guild, Marauder’s Guild, Arcanist’s Guild, Hawker’s Alley, Maelstrom Command-- until he forces himself to stop at the main aetheryte plaza. All the rapid-fire aethernet use has Atlas feeling sick to his stomach.

His gaze searches the surrounding area and finds no trace. The split second he discerns that Yeye is nowhere to be found, he takes a hard turn to his right for the Bulwark Hall. About halfway towards the archway inside he spies an unmistakable little shape sitting sullenly beneath the massive concrete pillar at the center.

Atlas breathlessly accesses his linkpearl. “Soso, I found her. She’s alright.”

Sosoyi’s voice is coming through, but her words are not reaching Atlas’ head. He hears the vague tittering of tearful relief and nothing more as he rushes forward. His sandals skid to a halt in front of Yeyelu, who lifts her head and lights up at what she finds.

“Atlie!”

Atlas for once is not mirroring her obvious delight in seeing him. He’s frowning, with lip and furrowed brow quivering at each end of his face. Yeye sees his expression and recoils; not because he’s angry with her and she fears the oncoming scolding, but because he’s trying his hardest to look furious while biting back tears (without success). She’d rather take the scolding than to see Atlie cry. “I was so worried…!��� He drops to his knees and his heavily dressed arms swallow the little Lalafell up in a secure hug. She’s not quite sure how to respond at first so she wilts within the fluff of his coat like an unwatered flower.

“Please don’t do that again, Yeye. I beg of you.”

“But I wanted to see you…”

Atlas exhales forlornly through his nose and finally sets her down in front of himself. With the swift slice of a gesturing hand through the air he’s prepared to give her a stern talking to, but his attention is wrenched away by something else. “You have no coat! Yeyelu! How irresponsible can you be in one night!?” Atlas is flapping his arms, just about ready to take off, to fling his coat off his shoulders as quickly as possible. The little Lalafellan girl is bundled up and drowning in the garment meant for an adult a hundred times her size. She fusses softly at Atlas.

“I’m okay! Atlie, please…”

She sniffles and Atlas notices that among his incessant mothering she had begun to cry. Yeye wipes at her eyes with a tiny hand, the one that she kept his ring around like a bangle.

Atlas sighs with resignation and collects the weepy little bundle into his lap. “Are you going to tell me why you’ve been giving your mother such a hard time?”

“I dunno why…” She’s hidden her face away in the fluff of his coat in shame.

Atlas knows what’s going on here thankfully, even if Yeye does not. She’s only six after all. No matter how bright she may be, for now she’s lacking the sort of self awareness that comes only from age. He decides not to try and play guidance counselor too much; no need to overload her when she’s already overwhelmed with emotion. “Well, you know what I’m going to say next, and that’s ‘you need to stop that.’ Alright?” Atlas tenderly swipes the knuckle of his forefinger over her tiny cheek to clear it of tears.

“I just miss you a lot.”

“And I miss you just as much! But I need you to be good while I’m away at school, alright? Your mother is worried about you, and now I am too.” Atlas lifts his head and looks towards the aetheryte and the crowd bustling around it. “How come you were sitting here?” “I got lost and I couldn’t remember which way the gate to the Mist was. And then I didn’t want to go home cause I knew Mommy would be mad.”

Atlas can’t help but chuckle. But of course. She’s afraid of Sosoyi’s perfected Look of Disappointment. Even he is helpless against such a brutal, soul-tearing gaze. A punch to the throat would be more merciful.

“I can understand. But when you make a mistake Yeye, you need to be sure to take responsibility and then deal with the consequences with dignity.”

He suddenly remembers that he is out well past curfew and he will be practicing what he preaches within the next twelve hours or so. The Roe flinches inwardly as he attempts to think of what will be coming for himself.

“Okay.” “Okay! I’m proud of you, Yeyelu. But I need you to promise me you will never do this again. Heading out alone is dangerous, I dread to think of what could have happened to you on the road between the boarding house and the city.”

“I saw a beehi--” “Nnnnope, nope! Nope! Say no more!” Atlas springs to his feet with bundled Yeye in his arms. “I just said I don’t want to think about it!”

Yeyelu cackles and bats at Atlas. His overactive flinch is twice as hilarious.

“You’re a rascal. It’s about time we get you back to your mother, hm? Let’s go.”

»»-------------¤-------------««

The little Lalafell is fast asleep against Atlas by the time he delivers her to Sosoyi’s door. She’s beside herself that her little one is back home safely. “Bless you, Atlas. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, without me she wouldn’t have run off to begin with. She was trying to get to the college.” His brows furrow as he adjusts his glasses. “I found her in the Bulwark Hall and talked to her, she said she became lost and didn’t want to come home to face punishment.”

Soso’s shoulders sag and she sighs deeply. “Makes sense. Don’t blame yourself, please. I know you wouldn’t have let this happen if you had known.”

Atlas’s gaze flicks aside momentarily, but then he nods in firm agreement. “Alright. May I come in? I would like to tuck her in.” “Certainly. Please excuse the mess.” She steps away from the door as he ducks inside. The place is hardly a disaster-- the single bedroom is tidy save for a thin layer of dust and a few of Yeye’s toys scattered on the floor. The head of her bed rests against the same wall as her mother’s, and they’re so close together that Atlas has a hard time squeezing his way between them. Yeyelu is gently plucked from the coat with a single big gray hand and tucked under the covers. She stirs and curls herself up in a tight little ball like a squirrel.

Atlas lets go of a breath he had been holding while watching her and he clutches his chest with a heavy thump. His heart is ready to spill over. “I love her so much.”

Sosoyi smiles softly as she turns toward a kettle resting atop a little magitek burner. “I know you do. Would you like some tea before you head back off to the college, Atlas? It’s the least I can do.”

“I’m afraid I can’t linger. I ran off in violation of curfew and I don’t intend to take advantage of my time on the run, as it were.” Atlas smiles despite. “I’m going to ask about the rules of visitation in hopes that I could perhaps bring Yeye over while I study, but I’m not about to do so immediately after breaking the rules.”

“Oh, Twelve! What are you waiting for then! Get going!” Soso is “beating up” poor Atlas’s leg to fend him out of the door. He hops backwards in a flustered scurry and bonks the back of his head on the doorframe on his way out. He doesn’t stop until his back meets the wall at the other side of the hall. “Goodbye, Atlas. I’ll see you soon, alright? And thank you again.” She waves.

Atlas waves on back until she shuts the door, then rubs at his poor rattled skull. Ouch.

»»-------------¤-------------««

It’s four in the afternoon and Atlas is stuck cleaning shower stalls. This is his punishment for leaving past curfew the night before, which he reported as soon as he returned to the college. He kept his explanation to the professor intentionally vague, saying only that he had an urgent family emergency. He need not defend the actions he chose to take.

He dunks the filthy scrubbing brush into a bucket at his side and witnesses as a cloud of murk infests the soapy water. A horrified shudder travels through every ilm of his body. Professor Ward must have chosen this punishment with Atlas’s biggest weaknesses in mind; one of which being dirt. Mercifully, he was given a pair of rubber gloves that go all the way up to his elbows.

A little voice arrives in his ear soon after he returns to scrubbing. “Are you busy, Atlie?”

“Yes I am. I’m cleaning the bathrooms to make up for breaking curfew. And since this is a punishment I can’t allow myself to spend it talking on the linkpearl the whole time. Do you need something, Yeye?”

“No. I just missed you and wanted to say hi.”

Atlas smiles helplessly, even as he puts elbow grease into getting soap scum out of the tiling’s grout. “Hello, Peapod. I miss you too. I’m glad you reached out to me. Will you read me your new book when I finish with my responsibilities?”

“Yeah!” “Alright, good. In the meantime I want you to go pick up your toys and put them in your chest and make your bed. Will you do that for me?”

“Is this my punishment for leaving the house?” Atlas is surprised to hear that she doesn’t sound near as deflated as she usually would when being assigned chores.

“Yes it is. Do you remember what I told you about consequences?”

“Take re-ponce-si-blititty.”

“I’m proud of you. Now go on and do your cleaning up, and when I’m done with mine we can spend some time together.”

“Okay Atlie. Love you.” “I love you too Yeye.”

[paissahut]

The process of moving Atlas’ belongings was a simple one. Everything he owns fit snugly into a duffel, and before he knew it his little room was just as bare as the day he moved in. Goodbye creaky chair, lumpy bed, wobbly desk…

He turns to leave the bedroom one last time, but finds himself immediately halted by a tiny figure below him. A little Lalafellan girl that could sit within the palm of Atlas’ hand. “So it’s true huh? Ya got in your fancy arcanist school?”

Atlas’ eyes widen in surprise of her knowledge, and he nods rapidly with his usual enthusiasm. “Word travels fast in the boarding house, as always. Indeed I got in. The application process was not as difficult as I anticipated.”

The little bean sprout applauds Atlas. “Yay! Good work, Atlie. I hope you didn't think of leaving without saying goodbye to me though, right?”

Atlas is aghast at such a suggestion. He reels back animatedly and retorts. “I would do no such thing!! In fact I was on my way to doing so, but you beat me to the punch.”

“You got all that schooling and magic and stuff and you still can't take one step ahead of me.” She sticks out her tongue in a teasing manner.

“Yeyelu! The NERVE! But you are not wrong, you've always been much keener than I. Perhaps you have a future in studying magics too, I would proudly watch as you grew and even surpassed me.” Atlas smiles fondly at his little friend. She is struck with the look and immediately tears well in her itty bitty eyes.

“Gonna miss having you around here, Atlie.”

Atlas panics and drops his bag, then follows on his knees. He huddles over her, frantic to calm the unrest he caused his little friend. “Yeye, please don't cry! Ahhh-- you know I can't stand to see you sad. Please remember I'm not leaving you for good! I'm still here on La Noscea, and if you need me I'm only a linkpearl away.”

He’s busily patting Yeyelu over the head with the tips of his fingers with rapidity, as if speeding up his petting would also speed up her emotional recovery. She's used to Atlas’ odd behaviors by now, and they even seem to succeed in soothing her. She pins his hand atop her head with her own little ones, relieving Atlas of his overeager effort to calm her.

“It's okay. I know.”

Yeyelu pulls the roe’s hand from atop her crown and looks at it… then swipes one of the big, fat, plain rings that adorn his fingers. She slips it over her wrist like a bangle. Twelve above, she can wear it on her wrist shecanwearitonherwrist. Atlas feels his heart squeeze as he's reminded just how small his friend is.

“This is mine now though.”

Atlas is nearly driven to tears just thinking about how cute Yeye is, but he bites back his overwhelming emotion. “It's yours,” He affirms. “I must be off though. There is a curfew and I don't intend to break it on my first night. Will you t--"

He clears his throat loudly and swallows down embarrassment.

“Will you tell your mother I said goodbye?”

Yeye notices Atlas stutter, and she grins impishly. “Yeah. I will. Bye Atlie, smell you later.” She jumps and high-fives his forehead before scampering off down the hallway.

Atlas is left helplessly dumbfounded. Several blinks later he’s launched to his full height and retorts defensively. “I… I do NOT smell!”

Atlas hurriedly collects his bag and proceeds down the hallway in a huff.

He does not smell.

~

Atlas returns his room key to the boarding house’s owners, a couple who use their inherited farmland and orchard to house and feed refugees. The boarding house used to be a huge home that the couple stayed in, but they humbly repurposed it for those in need of a roof over their head, and they now live in a furnished barn. They're easygoing and kind, and often lament that they haven't the space to take in more people. Atlas is endlessly grateful for their hospitality towards him.

With the key taken care of, there's only the trip back to the Mists remaining. It's a very short one, and before Atlas knows it he's beneath the door frame of his cozy little dormitory. He sets down his duffel and opens it up to hang up his garments in the wardrobe.

Done. Now for his books and stationery. Atlas is an avid letter writer, to the point where most of his income goes towards postage. He discusses and trades books, writes to two penpals in both the Shroud and Thanalan, and soon will be writing to Yeyelu who is in the process of learning to read. He quietly longed to be the one to teach her, but it's not his place to butt in the way of her mother’s curriculum for her.

As he's unpacking his stationery into the drawers of his fancy new desk, he notices an unopened letter jammed between two boxes of fancy paper. He pulls it out with some effort; the wax seal on the back melted a tad and became stuck.

...Ah. He immediately knows what this is. He receives these on a monthly basis now. Despite his displeasure at seeing the letter, it's his due diligence to open and read through every letter he receives. As expected, it reads the exactly the same as every single previous one.

“Usynhanth Awyrahtynsyn,

We have received a letter of recommendation on your behalf, and after review and much consideration, it would be our pleasure to have you at the Academy of Aetherial Manipulation.”

The letter goes on to list the benefits of the college, such as it's staff, housing, scholarships, etcetera....

This “letter of recommendation” that was supposedly submitted on his behalf is actually his father, the founder of the academy, trying to pluck him up for himself. His father is well aware of how Atlas feels about him, and yet he persists.

Sometimes he can’t help but wonder if he founded that academy just to bring Atlas back to him, but he knows better. It was founded so that he could bring all the resources he needed for his dark ambitions together into one place. Whatever bribery he might throw next, it won’t work. The only way that could ever happen is if he were to give up his secretive studies on Black Magics, and Atlas does not see that ever happening.

Unfortunately his father isn’t the only one at fault. Atlas’ silence on the matter has been gnawing at his conscience since the day he invited Atlas to study with him. He should report it to somebody-- no-- NEEDS to report it to somebody. The fact he is hesitating to makes him just as culpable as his father.

Atlas furrows his brow and quickly tears up the letter. He lets the shreds fall to his desk and turns away.

Now is not the time, Atlas. You have a room to tidy.

The student quickly busies himself, soon forgetting his worries once more. It’s not long until everything of Atlas’ is stowed away and the room looks almost as perfect as it did when he first came in, save for a little photo frame by his bed.

The clock on the wall reads ‘way past time-to-sleep-o’-clock,’ and Atlas practically leaps out of his clothes at this realization. Before it could get any later, the diligent roe has already wedged himself into bed and folded his glasses by the portrait. He aggressively turns over, as if to tell his brain, ‘Okay, now SLEEP!’

...It’s not happening. Oh Thaliak. This is not good. He’s going to wake up tomorrow TIRED and he CAN’T AFFORD THIS on the first day. What is Professor Ward going to think if he yawns in class? What if he misunderstands a small detail of a lecture or misses a note or...

Atlas has an idea, but he hesitates. He queues his linkpearl and speaks quietly. “Yeyelu? Are you awake?”

It takes almost no time at all for a little voice to peep back at him. “Yeah. Mum said it’s bedtime but I’m coloring instead.”

“Yeye! That’s not good behavior!” His hardened expression eases. “...But I’m glad you’re here anyhow. Do you remember when I said that if you needed me, I’m only a linkpearl away? Well, what if I need your help?”

“I know how to use the aetheryte if I gotta sneak out!” “Yeye, NO!” Atlas makes a sound so wholly horrified that the people in the other dorms now must think he has a haunted house set up in here. He claps a hand over his mouth, now horrified over the fact that he bleated loudly like a sheep. He practically begs her, “Please don’t sneak out! I just want you to read me your book!”

“Oh. I can do that.�� There’s a shuffling where she takes her hand off her linkpearl, and she disappears for a minute or so. When she returns she’s flipping through the thick pages of a children’s book. Yeyelu’s gone through it a thousand times and probably has it memorized like a poem by now, but she likes the pictures and so she always finds the book anyhow. “The Very Hungry Spriggan.”

By the time the spriggan eats through five oranges on Lightsday, Atlas is fast asleep. Yeyelu can tell because he stopped chiming in after every single page to tell her good job. Her work here is done.

“G’night, Atlie. Love you.”

~

-For Awyrahtyn Doereidinsyn’s eyes only-

Father,

I contact you to inform you I will not be seeking schooling at the Academy. I have found my place elsewhere.

My opinions of you have not changed, even after all this time. So long as you carry on with your work you can expect me not to find my way back to you. Do not contact me again-- I want nothing to do with the life you lead. Failure to do so will tempt my impulsivity.

Usynhanth

Atlas calmly folds the strongly worded letter into thirds and slips it into an envelope. He posts it with a plain blue stamp and addresses it-- no return address. Next he’d pass it by, he would slip the envelope into the College’s postbox.

He stops and spends a long moment staring at the box containing his warning letter. Would the latter sentence come across as he intends? It wasn’t meant to be a threat, but no matter how he tried to word it in his head it still came across as such. He wanted to convey his severity; that’s it. The situation he is in is rather precarious, and whichever way the scales tip he needs to be ready to react.

He just… sincerely hopes he doesn’t have to turn his father in. Doing so would begin a domino effect of events that would result in his father dragging Atlas down through the Seven Hells with him. The fact that Atlas studies magic at all is evidence enough for any higher power to put him to death alongside his father. And if it’s not that, then he’d surely be locked up for “co-conspiring” with him, as his father would likely claim. None of this is below the petty man.

Atlas sighs heavily, then draws in a deep breath that has his chest puffed bigger than a lion’s. Everything will be okay. ...It’s gotta be okay. No matter how scared he is, it’s going to be okay.

The roegadyn turns his back on the postbox and returns to his dormitory. There’s still so much to be done before his first lesson! He should definitely brush up on algorithms. Or refresh his knowledge on the history of magic. Or both. Yes, a sound plan. He will evenly divide his remaining time between each genre of studies and get a fine tune in both.