#atticus: 01

[rowanxaubri]

ridiculous | atticus & rowan

What a gods damn day.  Rowan had never really been punished since coming back to the Institute as a slave.  Hells, she hadn’t even as a Mistress, wise enough to steer as far clear of stuff like this as possible.  But no beuno today.  At the very least it was nice to be wearing clothes again; she never thought she’d be grateful to see the cells.  But she was.  The human would have guessed the whole song and dance was done if she didn’t still see some Masters and Mistresses in the basement in similar predicaments.  They weren’t done with this show, awesome.

The last thing she wanted to do was focus on that, however.  So when she noticed Atticus nearby, she had no issues whatsoever with sliding down the wall and sitting next to him.  If there was one thing they had in common other than their friends, it was their propensity of deflecting with humor.  “Shocking, right?  The school punishing people for nothing.  Next thing you know they’ll bring slavery back - oh wait.”

@voulez-vousatticus​

[percival-templeton]

Location: The Riverlands, The Crossing Set during the four-month time jump Closed starter for @crossingfreys​​

“I’m indisposed,” Alerie called out after hearing a knock on her bedroom door. It was well after midday and the Lady of the Crossing had run out every maidservant out of her room when they came to help her get dressed, do her hair and fetch her for breakfast. Her leg throbbed and it felt cramped. How she’d danced at that fucking Reach wedding last week, playing her role of a perfect and gracious lady. Now her body paid for the pretense, for the unnecessary exertion. One single day of enjoyment paid for in several days of pain. She’d more easily throw herself into the deepest of rivers than let foreign courts see any frailty, any vulnerability in her. It was known she’d been born this way... with a fucking bad leg, but the Frey lady had enough pride to ever concede to anyone getting a glimpse of even the slightest weakness in her.

Her father called her a cripple once when she was but a girl of eight. And he had been right... His words didn’t cut in the way he might have expected, instead lighting a dangerous fire in her. That exchange was the most vivid memory she had of her father for a reason. Her father helped build her strength in a weird way, as Alerie vowed that no one would ever call her that again, to do what she had to in order to conceal every crack in her broken porcelain body. Make others see ivory, see steel.

Alerie poured more than a few drops of her tonic in a cup of water and swallowed it all in one desperate gulp. The bitter taste nearly made her gag when she was younger, but she was so used to the nasty flavor of the remedy. Another knock came and the lady set her empty cup down with annoyance. “I said I’m indisposed!”. Her flare of anger easily subsided as her brother announced himself on the other side of the door. The Frey lady reached out for her cane, her faithful companion for the days of pain, and limped her way to the door to unlock it.

[doctor-crowe]

February 2nd, 1998- late evening

@atticus-bellefield​

The little card flipped between her fingers, causing the quickly scratched message on it to spin. The message was simple: a phone number and a name. It had been given to her by a now former patient earlier that day- a patient who’d had a broken wing for the last two weeks, but came in today for a check up with no signs that any injury had ever existed. It’d taken some coaxing, and enough promises of anonymity that she nearly had to swear on her pinky- but eventually the mutant had told her they’d been to see a specialist; one that offered their services to a select clientele. 

It had both piqued her interest and, more concerningly, perplexed Stevie. Someone was out there healing mutants that needed it.. in secret? Why? And why hadn’t she heard about them before now? 

Her mind made, she picked up her telephone and dialed the number; resisting the urge to count the seconds as she waited for the ringing to stop. Her breath stilled as a voice cut off the tones, then, carefully, “..this Belle? I uh, got this number from a.. let’s just say a mutual friend. Said you might be able to help me.”

[heyxmissxjude]

catch up | jude & atticus

There were a good number of slaves in the cells that Jude fully intended to check in with, as was her wont any time she visited the island.  But apparently two of them had been claimed, which meant those reunions would have to wait until she had a chance to peruse the rules and figure out precisely what would be allowed.  The djinn would never forgive herself if, in her eagerness to catch up and spread the news of her permanent return, she’d bring punishment down on their heads.  But there were a few that she could still safely visit, which was what found her in the basement and perusing the cell occupants, heels clicking against the hard cement of the floor as she latched on to one train of thought in particular.

Grinning as she was greeted with a mess of curly hair, she gestured to a guard to open the door to Atticus’ cell as she casually leaned against the wall.  “Still haven’t been snatched up yet, my darling?  Do the Masters and Mistresses not yet realize what they’re missing by this point?”

@voulez-vousatticus​

[guadalupexperez]

@thercnncr​:

Atticus did not do “fancy”. He was more the “drink a beer and have a slice of pizza in two day old sweatpants” type of person, but he was halfway through the semester and he figured why not. He zipped around a few bars, peering in the windows to see what was crowded and what wasn't, before settling at a dive and, after taking out his ID with a bit of an eyeroll at the comment of how young he was, and the extra scrutiny. He was ready to settle on his normal Malibu Sunset - fruity gets the job done, he believes - when he felt a stool push out into the side of his thigh. Atticus looked down at it, then to the shoe, then to the owner of it all with a slight quirk of an eyebrow. “Do I have to pay for it?” he asked, pulling the stool out farther and taking a seat on it. “I’m a college student, frugal is my favorite word in the dictionary.” 

“No, you don’t.”  If Lupe hadn’t been in such a good mood, she might have called the stranger a fetus - especially once he admitted to being a college student.  Fuck knew he looked young enough.  But she’d been there once, drinking Natty Light in some dingy apartment with her classmates, everyone chipping in their pocket change in hopes of being able to afford another case.  Thankfully success had been her friend even after her original restaurant had been destroyed in the War, and well, she was in a good mood.  “Well my word of the day is celebration.  You can keep being frugal, I’ll pay.”  And at that she poured a second glass of champagne and pushed it across the bar towards the kid.