starbeast (starbeast) wrote in olympian_rewind, @ 2011-05-02 16:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | atlas, natal maltose, npc, polyhymnia, shiri eneas |
Who: Atlas (Natal) & Polyhymnia (Wisdom). Also, Freyra via text.
What: Sentimental vengeance.
Where: Shiri & Adam’s house
When: Just after Atlas’ scene with Freyra & Freyr
Warnings: None.
Atlas’ truck, which was also his house, rumbled to a stop in front of the house, which was not also a truck, shared by Wisdom and her human, Adam. The thought of the little human Wisdom doted upon made Atlas’ lips quirk downward as he hopped from the driver’s seat. Atlas’ mood could not be brought down for long, however, and he was soon smiling again. Besides, it wasn’t as if Atlas hadn’t had dalliances of his own. The memory of his latest conquest was the cause of his current good mood. Ever since being flushed out of the Everglades, he had been on quite the roll.
Atlas put thoughts of his previous victories aside. He was here to have a pleasant visit with Wisdom. He could feel the savagery of the past few days slip away. It was replaced with the calmness of spirit he associated only with Polyhymnia. How many months had it been since he’d visited her? Too many, he concluded. His sense of time had still not adjusted to the fast pace of his current life.
Resolving to visit Wisdom more regularly in the future, Atlas knocked on the front door.
Perhaps Atlas’ calmness of spirit was why the muse of such peaceful concepts as mediation, prayer and eloquence was anything but calm. Perhaps there was only so much calmness in the world and his spirit being infused with it, prevented her from her normal calmness. In truth, Polyhymnia was fuming because Adam was not home. That wasn’t the cause but Adam’s absence allowed her the opportunity of being so awash in rage that it burnt inside her divine chest.
She had become infuriated when she wrote her term paper and rereading it only heightened her fury. Her knuckles would have turned white with the strength of her grip upon the side of her laptop if they weren’t already from her albinism. “... was assassinated November of the same year...” she read and her sweet voice dripped with venom with each and every word but she couldn’t keep reading passed the semi-colon she had typed...
Someone had knocked and her attention snapped to the door.
She hoped it was a Jehovah’s Witness or a Mormon witnessing door-to-door. Pulling her long, dramatic saffron veil over her hair and draping the one end over her shoulder, she approached the door after pushing the laptop to the edge of the couch. It would be good to just utterly break some well-to-do on her doorstep... be an outlet for her frustrated, helpless rage before her beloved mortal returned to her...
But as she opened the door, her fury was put on pause. This wasn’t a door-to-door well-to-do. “Natal?”
“Wisdom,” Atlas said with an acknowledging nod.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in Polyhymnia’s demeanor. The quickness with which she opened the door, the tightness around her eyes and mouth, the strain in her voice, Atlas recognized all these signs. Polyhymnia was seething with barely restrained fury.
As her fury was not apparently focused on him, Atlas was pleased at the Muse’s violence in potential. As a Titan, it was nearly irresistible to him.
“Is this a bad time?” he asked, eyebrow raised questioningly. He supposed briefly that he should have called, but he had simply forgotten all about mankind’s little device over the course of his busy day.
“I can come back another time,” Atlas offered, “or I can help you vent your rage.” Atlas was smiling by the time he finished speaking. It was obvious which option he preferred.
A small smile spread across her face at his suggestion. If she remembered correctly and she was certain she did, then the Titan at the door may just have been a better outlet to transform her rage from futile to productive... much better than breaking some human's mental well-being on her front porch.
That would have just numbed her fury anyway.
Still, she didn't move to let him in. Instead, she looked around him. "Is it okay that you are here? I really, really, really cannot be arrested right now... More than even before and I saw your photo in the paper."
Atlas waved a hand dismissively and wondered how often he was going to be asked that.
“It’s okay,” he replied, trying to sound convincing. “The police are searching the swamps while Freyra busily tries to settle this whole situation. This will pass and soon be nothing but a memory.” Atlas wasn’t sure that all made sense, but it sounded good in his head.
“Wait,” Atlas said, brows furrowing, “why would you be arrested? The police weren’t looking for you when we checked. Did you destroy a camera disguised as a big bug, too?”
Big bug? The drone he destroyed was disguised as a big bug? The US Military had too much time on their hands, she decided. But then again, she had had that thought previously. "No, I was just worried about being an accessory after the fact or being hit with harboring a fugitive... but if she is handling it, then I will trust this will not get me into trouble."
She then stepped aside from her doorway to let him in, "And if it does, bug her for me to fix it for me, too?"
Humans had too many laws, Atlas decided as he stepped into Polyhymnia’s house.
“If my visit brings you any harm,” Atlas vowed, “I will move heaven and earth to fix it.” He couldn’t help but grin at his own cleverness.
Polyhymnia giggled a little at the words the Titan had chosen. If anyone would be likely to be able to move the heavens and the earth, it would be fitting to be Atlas. Even if she would settle for her green card... Now she had the image of it being shaken out of the heavens.
"Thank you, Natal," she replied, "Come on in and I can go back to being furious... unless you came here for me to help you... did you come here for help?"
Atlas looked askance at Polyhymnia for a moment. Myriad affirmative responses to her question came to mind, but he already knew she would not help him that way.
“I came to visit because it has been too long since I have seen you, Wisdom,” He answered instead. “Don’t let me stop you from being furious.”
I greatly enjoy it, he thought.
“Maybe I can help,” he said.
"Maybe you can..." she said as she closed the door and locked it behind him. As she turned from him and returned to where she had been sitting on her couch in the nearby living room, with each step her fury returned to her in its entity... By the time she actually sat back down and glanced to her laptop, it might as well have been something tangible, draping around her in the same way her saffron veil did,
She snapped her attention away from the black text on white background of the laptop screen and return it to the Titan, "I have been betrayed and people have to pay for it."
Atlas cracked his knuckles, his grin widening. Polyhymnia was speaking his language. He moved over the couch and sat closely beside the pale, furious woman. He let the fiery aura of her anger wash over him as he felt the heat radiating from her skin.
“Tell me their names and show me their faces, “Atlas said earnestly, glaring at the laptop screen as if her enemies were within, “and I swear you will be avenged.”
The walls of her cute little shared home rarely caught sight of expressions like the malicious smile that had appeared upon her face, encouraged by his grin. She was certain the walls could keep it to themselves as well as the words she was about to speak. She simply didn't want to explain all of this to Adam.
While she was certain he understood she had not always been as she was with him... at the same time, the overlap of events of her life occurring while he was actually alive made it far too weird. Made her feel guilt...
The fact that she wanted vengeance through destruction wasn't helping. She justified it as at least she wanted those Adam would likely consider deplorable destroyed. He was an American. He had no choice but to do so.
And he would be right to do so. She was in agreement with the phrase "deplorable".
Glancing to her computer again, she realized could actually show Atlas her main target of frustration's face. Saving her work, she brought wikipedia up on her screen and then when the page loaded, turned the image to Atlas, "His name is Ayman al-Zawahiri and he destroyed what made me happy, stole what I could have used to help myself and ensured the sanctuary that I sought was transformed into a hell I could not even escape for years."
Atlas’ vicious grin slowly evaporated as he burned the man’s face into his memory, and a frown began to grow as he read the text on the screen Polyhymnia was showing him. Her words confirmed his suspicion. This was not something Atlas could solve with his incredible strength. This human was far beyond the reach of his arms.
Atlas’ grin returned. His strength was no longer the only resource he had.
“I think I can help,” Atlas said confidently. “I think I can bring you this man.”
"You need not bring him to me. Just rip his life from his chest and dash his broken body to the ground. If you do kill him, make sure no one can find his body, I do not want his death to be able to be used by others to continue his work. I do not want him to taunt me in death," she explained in a normal sing-song cadence for her but its melody was just so cruel.
She placed the laptop on the coffee table. "And I have information that could help bring down his legacy, the house of cards he built on the back of my pains. I can give it to you... Then you, others, whomever can break them, too."
Atlas watched Polyhymnia as she spelled out her hatred for this man. The cruelty in her voice, the tension in her features and her posture. The depth of her hatred was familiar to Atlas. It was a hatred that could only be extinguished by death. It was the same kind of hatred Atlas had held for Zeus. The comparison brought warmth to Atlas’ smile, even as Polyhymnia correctly guessed that Atlas would not be the sole operator in her revenge.
“Give me the information,” Atlas commanded gently, “And I swear I will not rest until this man has disappeared into death, even if I have to swim the seas to find him. Or, worse, beg the elf witch for her and her family’s help.”
Her thoughts were suddenly split. Part of her tried to remember when was the last time she had a meeting with an assassin, because that’s what this all felt like now. She wanted to say a few centuries ago and Italy but she was uncertain. She supposed it would depend on the definition of “assassin”. The part of her was reminded that the “elf-witch” as Atlas called her was technically her family by marriage. And not even though extended bonds -- this elf-witch’s twin had married her octupulet. That was a kind of novel and direct considering how her family normally worked.
She’d consider it later when she was more in the mood for pleasant, light-hearted thoughts.
Now was not the time.
He may have gently commanded her but she needed clarification to oblige him, “Right now?” Because she certainly didn’t keep that kind of information on her computer. Digital copies in this day and age was asking for a form of trouble she wasn’t keen about making.
The question caught Atlas off guard. He was so wrapped up in the pillow talk of revenge that he hadn’t even begun to think of the practicalities beyond the distasteful grovelling he may have to do in the near future. He took a moment to regain his balance before answering.
“It’s your revenge,” Atlas offered. “You don’t need me to tell you what to do and when to do it. I am helping you, not the other way around.” Atlas was backing down from his overbearing exuberance and came just short of actually apologizing for it.
"No, no, no..." Polyhymnia was quick to reply, nearly leaping to her feet at her own words. The dampening of his exuberance threw her to her feet and ignited the urgency of her words. There was a sudden flash of fear that maybe the next sentence out of his mouth would be about how he would come back... As if by standing, she would be able to prevent him from leaving if he had actually wanted to. "That is not what I meant... Some people just have a way they go about doing things like this. I did not want to break whatever murder rituals you have..."
Atlas burst into laughter. He wasn’t sure if it was relief or Polyhymnia’s mention of murder rituals that caused it. He did not think on it too hard.
“I’m from a more primitive side of the family, little one,” he said, his smile returning. “Murder is my ritual.” Atlas once again found himself wrapped in the thoughts and atmosphere of revenge.
“If you have the information now, give it to me now,” Atlas said in answer to the question he had misunderstood. “Freyra is gracing me with her undivided attention right now, so it is a good time for me to bring things to her attention. And her family and their soldiers are campaigning heavily in that part of the world, I think. I’m sure they would gladly repay your gift of information with the gift of vengeance.”
In fact, Atlas was pretty sure he had heard Freyra say exactly that when he had visited Ridgekeep last, but he had heard only snippets of that conversation.
Polyhymnia nodded with the glee of a maleficent child. Revenge was back on schedule. Revenge not just for the deaths of her last beloved mortal and her children, but for the years she was trapped and tormented in Kabul without means or resource to escape. She was certain it was all al-Zawahiri's fault and if she was wrong?
She didn't especially care.
Turning to her fireplace, she moved the screen from the front and dusted off the notebook that she had flung into it. In her frustrations of being unable to act and her fears of being caught with such information, she had flung the notebook there, determined to burn it a little later, almost immediately after she had written it all down.
Bringing it to Atlas, she offered it to him with the same air one may have handed over a brand new sword forged just for this mission in the days of yesteryear. "The safe houses may be dated but the code key is not."
The words “safe houses” and “code keys” meant little to Atlas, but he recognized the gravity with which Polyhymnia handed him the notebook. His brother Prometheus had once told him that the pen was mightier than the sword, but Atlas had ignored him, as he used neither pen nor sword. Seeing the reverence with which Polyhymnia treated the notebook, however, Atlas was almost ready to believe his traitorous brother.
“I will get this to Freyra as soon as I can,” Atlas promised, “within the day, if possible.”
As soon as the notebook left the Muse's hands an immediate sense of relief washed through and over her. Her wicked smile and malice didn't leave her but her frustration of being unable to seek revenge and her fury at being betrayed three times in succession unknowingly until now left her.
Her revenge had begun.
Now it was matter of time.
She took a deep breath as if she could breathe the moment in and savor it, "Thank you."
Atlas took a moment to savour the look on Polyhymnia’s face before responding.
“You’re very welcome,” he said simply.
The atmosphere was suddenly disrupted by a persistent chirping from Atlas’ pocket. Frowning, Atlas pulled out his cell phone and glared at it. Suddenly, he barked a single laugh.
“Speaking of the elf witch, this is her,” Atlas explained. “Maybe I can get her started on your revenge already.” Slowly, Atlas typed out a response to Freyra’s message. He growled in frustration as a second message interrupted him, but he was soon finished.
Polyhymnia couldn't help herself. Excitement had consumed the intensity of her previous fury as she leapt back to the couch. She knelt on the cushion beside him, looming over the phone as if she could read the little screen's text upside down as she was. She could certainly hear the little alert sounds. "Why is she texting you?"
“She’s telling me that the human police are no longer looking for me,” Atlas replied absently. He was glad. He didn’t want to have to murder or injure any of them that tried to apprehend him. He could only imagine how much Freyra would yell. The phone chirped again, and Atlas read Freyra’s message. It left a sardonic smile on his face.
“What can I tell her about the information that will interest her without giving too much away?” Atlas asked Polyhymnia. “And is also short enough to type easily.” He figured Polyhymnia, a goddess of eloquence, would know how to set the hook in Freyra’s mouth.
Hmmm, something that would interest her, not give too much away but also be easy to type. Polyhymnia closed her eyes in thought. She remembered the times she had actually met and spoken with the Elf-Goddess. When they met at dinner, at the wedding, when Valentine was pregnant and she had stayed at Ridgekeep with her... How to interest her sister-in-law but at the same time make it easy to type and more importantly sound like Natal... “Tell her that you can tell her information much of the world would pay fortunes for.” Opening her eyes once more, she knew it would be important to emphasise that Atlas could hand over something to Freyra that the rest of the world would want.
Atlas typed in Polyhymnia’s response, more or less word-for-word.
“That’s good,” Atlas said approvingly. It gave less away than what he was thinking. Stringing the elf witch along pleased him. It was like a game. Atlas’ phone chirped again, and as Atlas read the message, Freyra’s dubious attitude poured out of the little device in waves.
“I get the feeling she doesn’t believe me,” Atlas said, amused, “But I have her attention.”
Atlas looked to Polyhymnia. Though he felt odd constantly questioning her about the next step, this was her revenge. He wanted her to be as involved in the process as possible, so that she could derive the most possible satisfaction from the utter destruction of her target.
“Where do you want to go from here?” he asked, turning the tiny phone more fully to the not-as-tiny woman. “I can’t give her this information over the phone, nor would I. Do you want to meet with her? Do you want me to go in your stead?” Atlas placed his hand gently on the side of Polyhymnia’s face. “This is your vengeance. I want it to be good for you.”
Polyhymnia carefully took the phone from him to read the reply herself. He was right. It did sound like she didn't believe him . Another time she would have been distracted that the keyboard on his phone managed to be smaller than hers, even though her phone was smaller. But between the typed reply, his words and the touch along her cheek, she couldn't be distracted by such novelties.
This was real.
This was actually happening.
Her inner fury was rapidly being mixed with her inner coward. She wanted revenge but she didn't want to be caught...
She shook her head lightly in his hand, "You bring it to her. I do not want to have to answer her questions or anyone's questions about why I have this. I just want him to pay for what he did to me..."
Atlas gently stroked his thumb along Polyhymnia’s cheek. In another time, Atlas may have pressed the situation to see just how thankful Polyhymnia would be. However, Atlas felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time, not since his brother Menoetius had been crippled and imprisoned. For once, Atlas wasn’t thinking about his own desires, but those of another.
It actually felt... good.
“Don’t worry, Wisdom,” Atlas said fondly, “I promise you he will pay. I’ll bring this to Freyra. Her warriors will make sure this ‘Ayman’ dies afraid and alone. The only people who will know he has died are Freyra, her men, myself, and you. All the while, only I will know that you were the start of it.”
Afraid and alone. It was almost too good for him, Polyhymnia considered, but Atlas’ promise made her wicked, malicious smile returned to her face along with the fiery excitement that had been momentarily subdued by her inner-cowardice. No, everything would be fine. This would never get back to her. She handed him back his phone and touched the notebook again, “Others will die because of this notebook. Let her and hers decide what to do with their deaths but ‘Ayman’s’ death,” she spoke the name, mimicking the way Atlas had said it, “would do better to remain as quiet as possible.”
“There are others?” Atlas asked in surprise. “Well, no matter. Because of you, they will die. You will be avenged.” Atlas let his hand linger on her face a moment longer as he looked into her eyes, drinking in her aura of violence and malice that he found so intoxicating. Then, regretfully, he withdrew his hand.
“I’ll let Freyra know that I need a meeting,” he said briskly. “I doubt she’ll give me one without complaining, but she’ll do it. And, no matter what she says, I will not disclose you as the source. I am Atlas. I can endure whatever she can throw at me.” He gave Polyhymnia another smile before turning back to his phone.
"Once she sees what it is, I doubt she will complain very much." Polyhymnia had caught only the barest glimpses of the mercenary nature of Ridgekeep Worldwide Contractors but that was more than enough for her to know that what was in the notebook was a goldmine.
She kept eye contact with him until he turned away to his phone. Only then did she shift. Moving from her knelt perching, she settled more comfortably on the couch, another moment of great relief washing through her divine being.
"But yes, there are others. They are of no true importance to me. I was not hurt by anyone else. It was all his doing..." She was certain of it the more she thought about it. It didn't matter to her if it was actually true anymore. It was true enough. The pieces all fit together for her. She knew where to put the blame for her hellish time in Kabul and all the years that had lead up to her needing to be there...
But resting a hand upon Atlas' shoulder, she scooted over and whispered, "Thank you for this, Natal."
Again, Atlas was struck with an odd sense of cognitive dissonance that he could neither name or fully describe. Part of him wanted to surge forward, seeking instant gratification. Atlas would have thought nothing of following that urge in his old life. Even after being born anew in this strange, modern world, he would have reached for it. However, this baser urge was now subdued by one even stronger and, perhaps, more noble. He wondered briefly when he had changed, but he knew. Maybe he would thank Freyra one of these days.
Maybe.
“You’re welcome, Wisdom,” Atlas replied, his whisper a deep rumbling in his chest. He covered her tiny hand with his much larger one. “When you need me, I will always be there for you. Always.” Atlas opened his mouth, as if to say something more, but he didn’t have the words. Instead, he leaned n a bit closer to Polyhymnia and gave her hand a supportive squeeze.
Glancing down at how her hand effectively disappeared within his, her malicious smirk softened into one of simple warmth. Just as her hand had disappeared, her fury did the same at his promise. Rage was replaced by a return of her normal light-hearted calm. Venom-dripped melodies were replaced by a gentle, peaceful giggle as she tried to hide his hand with her other pale and how her inability to do so amused her. The complexities of her previous helpless frustration, the unfinished and unresolved pains of her previous lifetime and the resentment of nearly the first seven years of this lifetime disappeared from her.
At least for now,
She was wholly in the present once more,
Lifting her eyes to meet his again, she said in the most pleasant of melodies, "It is very good that you came to visit me today."
Wordlessly, Atlas nodded, his eyes never leaving Polyhymnia’s. He couldn’t agree more.
Summary: Atlas stops by Polyhymnia’s house for a simple visit. However, by the time it is over, Polyhymnia has started down the road to closure for her past life and Atlas has grown as a person.