Particia
Future Safe House for the Champions
Lydia
Who: Atlas, Alexios

Ever-tragic fate snaps two mortal loving gods back to the reality of their worlds.
Frank
In the bustling heart of a metropolis, nestled inconspicuously between towering edifices of shimmering glass and sleek steel, there lay a small, unassuming structure composed of weathered bricks and ancient wooden panels. This was Jin Xuan, an enchanting hybrid of a restaurant and antique shop, almost like a Chinese Cracker Barrel, minus the shitty food and overwhelmingly shameless horse aesthetic. 
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Due to its modest size and unpretentious nature, someone might deem it barely noticeable. In actuality, this establishment was a cherished favorite among both tourists and locals. Its charm didn't necessarily reside in grandeur but in the rich, immersive experience it offered, a hidden gem amidst the urban sprawl.
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In the same realm of judgment, someone might also expect the staff of such a quaint establishment to consist of several regular-sized individuals as opposed to one giant. Well, whoever "Someone" Was, would be wrong in that assumption also. Emerging from a doorway with an excessive load of flour bags cradled in his massive arms, a near seven-foot-tall titan moved with surprising agility through the narrow halls.
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His towering presence was a stark contrast to the establishment's ancient Chinese aesthetic. None of the uniforms fit his frame and none of the sites carried his size. The titan gently kicked open another door, depositing half the bags of flour inside, before redistributing the remaining sacks evenly between his enormous hands.
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With a casual flip of his overgrown hair to clear his vision, he took a left turn, exiting the U-shaped hallway into the bustling dining area. " 'Scuse me, 'scuse me," The titan muttered about as he deftly navigated between the tables, unknowingly pulling someone's chair slightly out from underneath their table. Atlas was making his way toward the alternate storeroom when he was halted by a diminutive, elderly Chinese man. Ping, Jin Xuan's owner.
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Remarkably brave, Ping positioned himself directly in the titan's path, showing no fear of being accidentally trampled. Ping was the epitome of fearlessness. "No, no! Other one! Go to the other one!" The elderly man exclaimed, his voice thick with a heavy accent as he gestured emphatically toward the direction the titan had just come from.
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"You said put half 'n half over here and there!" Atlas replied, halting in his tracks and looking down at the old man with a mixture of confusion and mild exasperation.
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"Change of mind, new shipment coming in! Need plenty of room for the rice! Go! Go!"The old man insisted while weakly pushing Atlas on his leg, his aged voice rising in volume to reach the titan's ears.
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"Alright, alright, I'm goin'!" Atlas responded, turning on his heel and hauling the giant bags back to the room he had just left. "Make way for the rice..." He muttered sarcastically under his breath. "Pardon me, 'scuse me," Atlas repeated to the dining customers as he maneuvered back through the dining area once more. Accidentally pulling another chair from a table when walking past. Contrary to what his imposing appearance might suggest, Atlas wasn't Jin Xuan's only employee because he alone was enough; he was Jin Xuan's only employee because his boss was a notorious cheapskate.
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In Ping's eyes, Atlas was a bodyguard, laborer, janitor and waiter all wrapped up in one. 
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Ping refused to hire cooks who didn't share his passion for Chinese cuisine and saw no need for a cashier due to his paranoia of being shorted. Atlas had been there so long that the establishment became like a home to him, its familiar walls and routines providing a sense of belonging that he cherished deeply. Quite literally, he lived on the top floor of the shop and dine, free of charge—an added bonus that Ping pitched in to secure his loyalty.
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Little did Ping know, Atlas cared deeply for him and had no intention of leaving even without the added living space. Ping was like a defenseless, grouchy little grandfather who, in no way, shape, or form, could manage all of this by himself.
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So this was the current state of Atlas, the once-mighty titan. Brought down to earth by the successor of his kind to win the love and affections of mortals, he now worked full-time as the sole employee of a small restaurant. What would Zeus say if he saw him now? Who cares? After all, he was never told precisely HOW he was supposed to win mortal love. As he carefully set the remaining bags of flour into the storeroom, he adjusted them to ensure they wouldn't tip over. Atlas puffed out a large sigh while resting his hands over his hips.
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A brief moment of silence was abruptly cut short by the growing sound of indistinct chatter, originating from the front. Immediately suspicious of the sudden increase in chatter, Atlas returned to the dining area with a wary look on his face. Soft murmurs of worry grew louder. All of the seats were abandoned as customers crowded around the windows, peering out of them. "The hell is everybody lookin' at?" He whispered to himself, stepping toward the front doors.
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Heading outside, he was met face to face with the cause of the commotion. About twenty feet away, aligned with the fences forming the entrance, stood a figure just as tall and broad as Atlas himself. The term 'figure' was used loosely, as it had the shape of a man, but features that were distinctly otherworldly. Its skin was a rugged expanse of dark, volcanic rock, each fissure and crevice pulsating with glowing streams of molten lava.
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This searing liquid fire oozed forth, hissing and sizzling as it slid down the body and disintegrated the concrete beneath its feet, leaving a trail of scorched earth in its wake. When Ping, the shop owner, came out and thought it wise to throw a bottle at the figure in defense, Atlas quickly intercepted the projectile and urged the old man back inside as he shouted profanities in Chinese.
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"Hey, no! We're not doing that. You don't just throw things at people. Or- non-people. No, yeah I know, just go back inside. I'll handle it. Stay in here, please." He said, pushing Ping inside and closing the door.
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After checking over his shoulder to ensure the figure hadn't advanced, Atlas turned around, cleared his throat, and cautiously approached the entity with a wary expression. "Sup?! Uhhh... Cool suit! Is this one of those hidden camera prank things? If so, I mean, that's awesome and all, but you're, uh, you're sorta dripping onto the concrete there and it's burning holes into the-" Atlas was abruptly cut from his speech as he pointed to the ground where the lava sizzled into the concrete.
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"Atlas, son of Lapetus and Clymene, Bearer of Heavens," The figure intoned in a deep, brash voice. Although he hadn't heard those last two names in a long time, Atlas wasn't surprised that whatever this being was, it knew about him. It certainly seemed like something from his side of the world.
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"Eyup, 'ts me. Bearer of Heavens, huh? That's new, I think I like that ... Is that like my official titl-"
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"While you squander your talents in the dwellings of a mortal eatery, a great conflict brews unnoticed. The Ocean and the Land are at war, and you are so preoccupied with menial tasks that you remain oblivious to it."
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"What?" Atlas said, furrowing his brows in concentration. At war? Nobody told him anything about a war.
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"Olympus has descended into the shadows of towering skyscrapers and glowing neon lights, the gods concealed beneath human guises. The spark of this divine strife lies in a power struggle among the deities. Zeus, once the unchallenged ruler of Olympus, now faces rebellion from a faction led by Poseidon, the formidable god of the sea. The mortal realm trembles under the weight of the gods' war, with governments struggling to comprehend the supernatural threat infiltrating their reality."
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"Zeus freed you because he feared Poseidon might do so first. He expects that you'll choose his side as a way to repay your freedom. But you know where your true allegiance resides, Atlas. You have grown not only in strength but in wisdom. Here lies an opportunity to rise from the failures of your brethren and reignite the Titanomachy. Exploit their conflict, for an adversary is always most vulnerable when they are preying upon another." 
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Atlas stared, dumbfounded, his eyes occasionally flicking to the floor that continued to melt from the lava seeping from the figure's chest. It was as if it possessed a heart made entirely of molten lava, pulsating with intense heat and fiery energy, yet devoid of any blood vessels to contain or direct the searing flow. Gruff tone, Gaia-esque persuasion, monstrous form—within the first few moments of the figure's speech, Atlas realized who this was. Typhon, titan god of monsters. 
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He must have found a way to breathe fragments of life into the volcano that he was imprisoned under, forming whatever this was as a result. 
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"It's nice to see you too, Ty. Look, I've got a great thing going on here. I know you might not think much of it, but it sure beats deadlifting the heavens for millennia. The Titanomachy was over before it even began, a lost cause. They were pathetic, but you know what that makes us? Even more pathetic, because we lost. Even if I believed there was a chance, what would you have me do? You and I lead my infantry of loyal humans into the underworld and demand everyone's release?"

"Whatever you did to make this happen, you wasted your time, buddy. I'm not interested in sovereign disputes anymore. Now, unless you're here to buy something, I'm gonna have to ask you to get lost." Atlas said, stepping to the god of monsters in protection of their surroundings.

"You... You would turn your back on your own kind... For mud sculptures of Prometheus?!" Typhon roared, his voice reverberating with fury as he launched himself at Atlas. The impact sent Atlas hurtling through the air, crashing into the side of Jin Xuan and demolishing the back wall. He landed amidst the debris in a neighboring building, the force of the collision creating a crater in the floor. Rising from the rubble, the titan god sighed and rolled his neck, the bones cracking loudly in the silence.
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"Okay, so that's where this is going," Atlas muttered to himself, his voice a mixture of resignation and determination.
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"Animals that we breathe life into, manifestations made to honor us, and you serve them!" Typhon bellowed, lunging at Atlas once more. The colossal force propelled Atlas through the neighboring apartment complex, tearing through walls and floors, until he emerged on the other side, crashing into a bustling street. 
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"I know, right? What kind of idiot doesn't keep doing the same pointless shit over and over again?" Atlas retorted sarcastically, seizing Typhon by the shoulder and hurling him with all his might. "Fuck!" He cursed, examining his hand as it seared from the fiery touch, skin stinging like it had grasped burning coals. Typhon wasn't going to relent, that much was clear. Saying no to a god was like stomping on their pet puppy and spitting on their mother. Likewise, Atlas wasn't prepared to let innocent people bear the brunt of this. It simply wasn't an option.
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Their titanic clash continued unabated and went on for hours. Buildings crumbled and streets fissured under the sheer force of their blows. The once bustling metropolis transformed into a war zone, skyscrapers reduced to twisted metal and shattered glass, while fires raged unchecked through entire blocks. Cars were flung like toys, their metal frames crumpled and smoldering. The ground itself seemed to tremble in fear, quaking beneath the weight of their ferocious conflict.
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Leaping into the air, Atlas followed Typhon's ascending trajectory, meeting him mid-air with a powerful uppercut that sent the god of monsters soaring higher. Landing atop a nearby building, Atlas launched himself again, intercepting Typhon's descent and propelling him backward with a series of rapid punches. His objective was clear: he had to drive Typhon away from the city. Typhon, realizing this, transformed his form into a deadweight, plummeting towards the buildings below like a meteor.
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Seeing the imminent threat, Atlas scanned the ground, calculating where Typhon might land. Directly above a bridge laden with cars. The titan sped to the scene, intercepting Typhon just ten feet before impact, and pulled him into the street before slamming him downward. Ignoring the searing pain in his hands, Atlas rained punches on Typhon, each strike driving them deeper into the earth. 
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"A subservient brute, granted freedom, only to serve even lesser beings. You are even more of an idiot now than you were before!" Typhon taunted. "You didn't even exist before" Atlas said in response. As they descended, his body absorbed the rubble around them, growing heavier and more resilient with each punch. It was as if the earth itself was healing him, regenerating his form at the same speed that Atlas could break it.
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Suddenly, Typhon's lava-filled veins began to glow brightly. He encased Atlas in a molten hold, but Atlas shattered it with a powerful burst of strength, though not quickly enough to avoid the subsequent explosion. The detonation caused a chain reaction, creating a massive ravine beneath the city that swallowed buildings into the abyss below.
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Atlas leaped to the surface, straining to push the toppling buildings back from the ravine's edge. He succeeded, but only just before Typhon reemerged, seizing Atlas's face in a burning grip. Atlas groaned in pain before swatting the arm away, breaking it with a resounding snap. Balancing his mounting fury with the need to protect the city was the hardest challenge he had ever faced. Had anyone already died? He couldn't afford to think about that now. Typhon's relentless onslaught demanded his full attention.
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They continued their brutal exchange, each clash leveling structures and causing devastation. Amidst the chaos, Atlas started to notice that Typhon was protecting a particular spot on his body, expending most of his power to regenerate the barriers around it. That must have been his core. As they were shooting over the water again, with a well-timed knee to Typhon's midsection, Atlas sent them plummeting into the depths below. He tore at Typhon's core, severing ligaments that regenerated more slowly each time. As they hit the ocean's surface, Atlas delivered a final, devastating punch to the exposed core.
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The explosion sent a torrent of lava into the air, propelling Atlas back to the surface, where he landed heavily in the street, creating another crater.
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Breathless and soaked, Atlas stood, his hair matted over his face. He couldn't savor his victory, the fear in the eyes of the onlookers cutting deeper than any wound. Police cars surrounded him, officers aiming their weapons and shouting for him to freeze. Atlas leapt into the air, surveying the destruction and chaos wrought by his battle with Typhon. 
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Had he done the right thing? Was all of this the result of his pride? It wasn't even the actual god, it was one of his creations. Didn't that mean he could just send another one? Hell, even multiple? 
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Atlas panted in silence, his eyes locked on the devastation. He didn't feel as though he'd won anything at all . . 
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Moments following, the titan returned to Jin Xuan where thankfully, nobody was injured. Relief washed over him seeing everyone safe, especially Ping, who greeted him with a mixture of concern and gratitude. Atlas knew well that he would now be pursued by the law and blamed for the destruction. But nothing they could do would make him feel worse than he already did. Though not the path the titans might have wanted for him, Typhon had definitely forced Atlas away from the life he had built. This couldn't happen again. Whatever it took to prevent something like this happening again, he would have to commit to it. 
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After leaving Jin Xuan, Atlas went and assisted firefighters and EMTs, lifting debris, moving structures and rescuing victims. The police, knowing they couldn't detain him, reluctantly allowed him to help. Meanwhile, the military were in the process of surrounding the city, but in silence. They viewed Atlas as a threat rather than an ally. To them, he was no savior. To himself, he was no savior. Typhon never would've come here if Atlas wasn't already there . .
Richard
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 ⚡︎ Characters | Alexios & Atlas
 ⚡︎ Players | Behemoth & Wingman
 ⚡︎ Theme | [Sorrow](

*Boom.*

Thunder outside. 

*Boom.*

Louder, closer. 

Conner was going sixty miles per hour in a thirty and slowly accelerating even more once he actually saw the battle in the distance. The news spread fast about two gods fighting each other using downtown as their own personal battleground, and the moment he heard the areas affected, he was jumping in his car to get there as fast as possible. 

Not to fight or try to stop the destruction, but because his fiancé, Jessie, worked in the hospital close to the action, and he was worried.

His foot slammed on the brakes as a flash of lightning struck a tree on the side of the road, setting it aflame. His back straightened in his seat, jaw clenching as he watched the old oak ignite under the vicious flames. A downpour of rain seemingly came out of nowhere to combat the fire, but quickly turned into a storm that had the entire area shaking and quaking under its strength. The battle had shifted and godly powers were at work. 

Sparks danced around his fingers as static filled the air. Blue eyes searched the sky for a visual on the gods. Just as he spotted the two figures locked in a violent dance, there was another strike of lightning. Another deafening boom too close for comfort. Buildings cracked and crumbled, glass shattered on impact, fires climbed toward the skyline.

A block away, Conner could already see the hospital in ruins. 

"No . . ." He gasped, and immediately slammed on the accelerator. Tires screeched. Black tracks scarred the streets. Conner slid the car to a stop in front of the hospital and barely put it in park before jumping out. 

Victims of the gods' wrath were everywhere - dead, wounded or fleeing for their lives. Some remained to pull out survivors since the battle was moving away from the area, but that still left plenty of danger to work through. 

Conner snagged a paramedic by the arm and shouted over the commotion. "Have you seen Jessie?!"

"Sh-she was at the nurse's station! But it's—" 

He didn't wait to hear the rest of the explanation. He rushed toward the first opening he saw - into the main entrance which was somehow still standing while most of the building was crushed. He ran through ankle-deep water, following the familiar path to the nurse's station until his way was blocked by huge pieces of debris. Gritting his teeth, he crouched down to grip the concrete slab with both hands, grunting as he lifted it, straining every muscle in his body to move it aside so he could pass under it. He let it drop behind him as he ran forward, but stopped suddenly when he saw the nurse's station.

The whole area behind the desk, the place where his fiancé sat for a good chunk of her day, was buried under rubble. He rushed forward to pull rubble off of the pile, digging through with the hope that he would find absolutely no one underneath.

She got out . . . She had to get out . . . He told himself over and over again until he pulled a large piece of concrete away and uncovered a hand. He froze, heart stopping as he traced the familiar slender fingers all the way to her ring finger where he knew the engagement ring would be - a thin silver band with a modest diamond.

"Please . . ." He breathed as he quickly dug through more of the rubble to uncover the rest of her body - limp and lifeless but still beautiful, as if she were just sleeping among the destruction. He knew she was dead before he held her in his arms, tears filling his eyes as he hugged her close. 

First, the gods had taken his adopted father. But that wasn't enough. The war had to claim the woman he loved.

Was it his fault? Was this the consequence for rejecting his godly blood, for changing his name to hide among mortals so that Zeus would never find him? 

Or was it a punishment for not doing enough for his fellow man? For trying to stay out of a growing conflict between beings more powerful than him? 

He reached up and brushed Jessie's hair out of her face, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb before his fist clenched, shaking from the pain that sank into his very bones. He gritted his teeth against crying out before he took a deep breath and stood up, lifting Jessie into his arms to carry her out. Holding her close, he ignored everyone who passed by him, even the ones who asked him if he needed help. His movements were mechanical, each step feeling alien to him as he stared forward, taking her body outside. He only stopped moving when he heard the noise in the distance, and then his blank eyes turned toward the commotion, toward the battle raging on a few blocks away.

Each godly strike was an earthquake that shook the city, crumbled buildings. They fought on without regards to the mortals below them; there was no attempt to hold back, to keep the destruction to a minimum. They fought as if the people below them meant nothing - a terrible pattern both Conner and Jessie had begun to see all too often in the wars between gods. 

Conner was able to close his eyes to it before, but no longer. His eyes were wide open, forced to look upon his dead fiancé while she was limp in his arms. Forced to choose a side or let this terrible thing happen to other people. Forced to decide right then and there that he could no longer remain in hiding; he needed to do something - something that Jessie had been trying to get him to do for so long. 

But he couldn't focus. Couldn't think beyond his pain. Couldn't see past the tears that finally formed in his eyes. Knees finally going weak, he dropped to his knees, all of his strength forced into his arms so he could cling to Jessie's body. He held her close, sobbing into her, too weak to lift himself back up, let alone her. 

*Broken.*

The tears flowed freely then. 

*Broken.*

Suddenly just a shell of a man.
Frank
Two and a half weeks later. 
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A massive red fire truck is firmly lodged into the corner of the old brick building. Its front end has smashed through the wall, creating a jagged, gaping hole surrounded by a pile of red bricks and debris. Its sirens are still flashing. Dust hangs thickly in the air, hidden by the downpour of rain that in a way, ties the whole scene together. The building's walls are cracked and buckling around the truck. Cracks radiate outward from the point of impact, running up the side of the building and splitting the façade. The windows above the crash site are shattered, their glass shards scattered across the sidewalk.
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The structure seems to lean precariously, held up only by the fire truck wedged within it. If it were to back out, the whole building would come tumbling down. A conclusion quickly met by the firefighters and engineers alike after they'd successfully evacuated everyone from the wreckage. Inside, beams and supports are splintered, and the floor is littered with broken furniture and rubble. Outside, the streets are packed with ambulance trucks from neighboring cities. The air is filled with the smell of diesel and dust, and the only sounds, besides the sirens, are the creaking of the building and the murmurs of the first responders. Atlas approached the scene carefully.
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It doesn't take long at all for him to put two and two together. Shimmying through the tight-packed collection of hospital vans, the titan walks the pavement slowly, not wanting to startle the first responders. Rightfully, they're startled anyway by his sudden appearance. "This is an active crash-site, get back, now!" Demanded one of the firefighters, presumably the chief. "Heard, totally." Atlas responded without adhering to the demands. With his hands raised in the air, he points to the problem at hand, "Look, I'm gonna go over there and push that truck back over here, so you guys may wanna clear out some space. After that, I'll hold the building up until someone comes along with something big enough to keep it in place." He explained. 
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Atlas' words were said with caution in his tone. Hardly any energy left in his voice. His movement mirrored that cautiousness as he took careful steps towards the firetruck, hands still raised in the air to further emphasize the fact that he truly meant no harm. "Are we just gonna let him do that?!" One of the firefighters said to another. "Do we really have a choice?. . ." Replied the other. Atlas proceeded towards the scene. The chief firefighter directed everyone to clear the area. Walking around to the other side of the truck, Atlas peeked out at both sides to make sure the path ahead was clear. 
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He took a deep breath and raised his foot against the firetruck before giving it a heavily suppressed kick that sent it backwards into the street. Within a second of its removal, Atlas was already prepared to grab the building before it could plummet. His palms flattened against the busted concrete before he clenched it into a grip, allowing him to hold it up with ease. This granted the firefighters access to a path that was previously obscured. Quickly, the chief sent his men inside to rescue any of the remaining survivors. Atlas didn't say a word. The saviors briefly searched his eyes as they paced by, looking for some kind of trust sign that he wouldn't drop the building on them once they went in. 
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The titan didn't care to give them that, he merely continued holding the structure up. As void of motion as an actual pillar. His eyes remained glued to the rubble beneath his feet as his mind continued to drown in dark, dark thoughts.