Who: Atlas What: Relaxing & destruction of police property Where: The Everglades When: Recently Warnings: None.
Atlas tapped his foot restlessly as he reclined against a tree. He had divested himself of his charges for the moment. He had set them off to make ghillie suits and then hide themselves amongst the marsh until he gave them the signal or until he found one of them. He didn’t feel like searching them out just yet and had forgotten what the signal was, so they were in for quite a wait. Atlas had hoped to use his newly-free time for leisure and relaxation, but he found he couldn’t.
He had put his students out of sight, but they were never out of mind. Atlas had to constantly watch them. Though these soldiers were reputed to be tough by human standards, but compared to the impossible standard set by Atlas, they were unforgivably soft. He felt as if he was handling glass figurines when setting out challenges for them. The threshold between life and death was impossibly narrow for the humans that it was like threading a needle to design the challenges right, and Atlas had never been known for his dexterity.
He had been set at is new task for nearly half a year. It was nothing compared to Atlas’ eternal lifespan, but the boredom and responsibility made the sun and stars drag sullenly across the sky. It galled him. He felt bound by it as surely as he had been bound between earth and sky. It was not a feeling he appreciated. His every instinct told him to rebel, to cast off his shackles. As the interminable days passed, the instinctual urge became more and more attractive.
Atlas shook his head dismissively. He had put these chains on himself. Allying with the north men certainly wasn’t as pleasant as it had once seemed, but they had welcomed him, and, more importantly, he had accepted their welcome. No. He would not betray their trust. Not because of some duty that galled him. But his frustration grew with each passing day.
Atlas grimaced. His frustration was not helped by the whining buzz that permeated the air. Perhaps it was the cause of this day’s keen annoyance. He scanned the sky, for the annoying sound seemed to have its origin there, as did most of Atlas’ annoyances. He spotted a strange bird flitting threw the sky. It had no head or wings, yet soared through the air nonetheless, buzzing as it went. Atlas figured it to be a large bug, perhaps.
What it was mattered little to Atlas, however. Picking up a fist sized rock from the ground, Atlas hurled it at the annoying insect. His throw landed true, a dull cracking noise indicating a clean hit. The bug, silent now, fell to the ground, its landing muffled by the dense vegetation. Atlas felt no need to hunt down his fresh kill. He did not eat bugs if he could avoid it. Also, with the air free of the incessant buzzing, Atlas could feel sleep calling to him. Perhaps he would find some relaxation this day, after all.
Summary: All Atlas wants is a little piece and quiet. Is that too much to ask?