When: Post Helluva Episode 6 Where: Hell - Ash’s Place With: Ash @theashen-fox​

Well, it was hardly the kind of place one would expect to find a successful assassin, but there was no accounting for taste. The tea was dreadful, the aesthetic less than engaging and the furniture? His tail feathers had begun to cramp after five minutes of sitting in a chair. Still, at least he’d found cookies and in the grand scheme of the circles it was hard to get a cookie wrong. 

So he nibbled at the treat and continued to look around, opening most cupboards, snooping in the bedroom, the living room and not caring if he left something of a mess in his wake. He was bored and, frankly, it was this little assassin’s fault he’d had to come here and he’d had the gall to keep him waiting. 

Granted said assassin didn’t know he was waiting but Stolas was choosing not to acknowledge that. 

When the door finally opened he plucked another cookie from the packet and heaved a dramatic sigh, “Well about time. Honestly I’ve missed no less then two dozen galaxy implosions waiting for you to get home.” he pointed at him with a cookie, “Ash it is? A very unimaginative name.”

Hey, stop looking at me like that– my outfit wasn’t that extra is it? A dress and heels is totally normal for strolling around the village. Or at least it should be! 

@asher-mccarthy​

@ashcrgcines​

He was not a messenger, by any means. Since Emre had become a reaper, more souls than he cared to count had asked him to pass a message along to this loved one or that. There was one exception, a man, a good one, who had died well before his time, taken from this city in a cruel act of senseless violence. Emre had refused him at first, but his incessant pleading had pulled on the reaper over the past month. At times it kept him awake at night, and so when he spied the man’s brother in the crowd on Agia Paraskevi Street, Emre approached. “Asher Gaines?”

@ashcrgcines​

“Hey, Chief.”Atlas said easily as he approached the Chief of Police on the street, it was late, and with the Mati lifted the fury was free to carry out his missive as set forth by Alecto. By himself. Justice. He had little room in his heart for vampires, genasi, cubi - but humans were different, as much as Atlas wanted to, he couldn’t just rip the heart of a human out and call it justice. There were established systems in place for that sort of thing, but at the very least, Atlas’s new set of abilities made him particularly apt at hunting down some of the worst criminals that they city had to offer. And Atlas had done just that. Asher looked like he was doing better than when they had last spoken, to say the least, the fury’s fist tensed reflexively at the haunted memory of Asher receiving the news that his brother had been murdered. At the time Atlas did not know how to even comprehend what the man was feeling, but Ajax was the closest thing to a brother that the fury had ever known. His grief, at least, had melted to rage. “Theres someone I want you to meet.” 

@damcge

wally had been walking around the fraternity house with a joint in his hand, wearing nothing but his boxers. he had control of the fraternity speaker system, and decided to pester whoever had been sitting inside the living room watching the television.

he quickly decided to play the song ‘old time rock and roll.’ imitating the famous dance that he even decided to take a pair of plastic ‘rush zte’ sunglasses the recruitment chairmen had purchased a couple years ago. wally slid into the room just like the video, and played off the entire part wearing nothing but his boxers and long pair of green songs.

when he was finished, he took a bit hit of the joint in his hand. he took off his sunglasses to reveal just how high he was. “oh shit, hey asher. how’d you like the show?”

@ashcrgcines​

Apparently Xander had no desire to go back into the police station after being trapped within for so long, so he waited outside as Atlas headed in. The man had not left the witch’s side for longer than an hour since they were reunited, the oracle might have been upset about it... Were he not so appreciative. Because neither did Atlas want to leave the other man alone, there was a very real fear that had overtaken the witch while he was in Dionysus Bar: what if he never saw him again? Maybe to some it would seem irrational, but the curse that had claimed the bulk of Atlas’ body had thankfully only left a scar on the back of his hand. He never wanted to be brought so low again, and he swore on everything he was that the people he loved would never be taken from him. It was why he was still here in Corinth. To make a difference, to help the people who had helped him, to do some good with what was left of his life. To make amends. 

“Hey Chief,” Atlas smiled, he had knocked and waited for the voice within to direct him inside, an easy smile on his face when he saw Asher’s familiar face. The state of the building was... Bad, but the institution remained, and Atlas had heard the Chief barking out orders from down the hall, but still, that hadn’t stopped him. “no mystery cases this time. No missing people popping up in my dreams. I wanted to give you something, is now a good time?”

@ashcrgcines

Atlas entered the police station and recognized a few faces, he came here occasionally to see Asher, the nice lady at the front desk greeted him by name and told him to wait a few moments while she checked to see if the Chief was still in a meeting. He was busy, so Atlas had to wait before he could go in. While he did he stood in front of the Missing Person’s board, the witch had come here for a reason, while Atlas frequently checked in on his friends, Asher was perhaps the exception. The man was busy and could absolutely take care of himself, it was Atlas that the Chief tended to check in on, the man was one of the few people who knew how quickly the oracle could be triggered. While that hadn’t gone away, most of his magic had, but the witch and his desire to help those that came to him in his visions had not faltered. 

There was one face he saw on the board that Atlas immediately recognized, a seven year old girl, daughter of a big family, human, she’d been missing for weeks. Her face was unmistakable, however, she’d stared at the witch from across his dreams, her eyes cold and fixed as the environment she was in sent chills down his spine. Atlas had tasted copper in his mouth, like blood, smelled the smoke as if it had burned through his own home. When he awoke, Atlas knew what he needed to do, knew who he needed to seek out. 

“The Chief will see you now,” Atlas heard the receptionist say and Atlas turned to her with a smile, he took the young girl’s photo off the wall and moved to enter Asher’s office. Atlas had gone through a period of self doubt after the murder of Scylla at the Temple of Apollo, but it was Xander who had renewed the oracle’s faith in himself. He did not know what for he was given the visions that he was, but they were a tool that could be used for good, and Atlas was intent on honoring that. 

Asher appeared grave, Atlas didn’t come to the station for no reason. The oracle slid the picture across the desk and met Asher’s azure eyes with his own hazel hues, he needed the Chief to trust him once again. “I’ve got a hunch, wanna go for a drive?”

@ashcrgcines​

Atlas awoke in a cold sweat, the taste of grave dirt on his tongue; his heart racing as he sped through the whirring, screaming images flashing before his mind’s eye. The saw a stone angel, a man standing in the distance, Atlas reached up and touched his face and rubbed where he’d felt the force of the shovel hit whomever must have been the victim. Then the darkness and the deafening sound of... something. Like something falling.

Atlas closed his eyes and chased the flashes down, there were glimpses of mutilation, violence and tearing as skin was split open. A man’s laugh in the distance, cold and chilling before he whispered in Atlas’ ear, close enough that the oracle could feel the greasy man’s hot breath against the shell of his ear: you’re going in the dirt tonight.

Then the sound of tumbling earth once again as the realization struck Atlas and his eyes shot open: this man’s victim was still alive, though he might very well be in the ground already. The witch’s phone was in his hand as he shoved himself into clothing and pushed his way outside and disappeared into the night; he called the Chief himself and left a voicemail. Atlas told the man what he’d seen: a man who mutilated his victims and then buried them alive, then he told Asher where to find him: the cemetery. 

The witch headed in that direction, his home disappeared behind him as he left familiar streets behind for less favorable ones. It was late. He checked his phone now and saw it was just after two in the morning, a chill ran up his spine, an intuitive notion that Atlas was willfully walking towards danger, but he continued to do so anyways. 

“Chief.”