#atticus wolfram

–=--=--=--=- A mere thug couldn’t sway the man and apparently, neither could a Reaper with a terrifying reputation. Mayhap because the Hyur was new to Ul’dah and didn’t really know of the Raven, but of course, Loezais wasn’t the type to do much research when it came to anyone who slandered his business. It was honestly almost laughable how easily this man was able to outsmart Loezais to steal the documents in the first place and if it wasn’t for the fact that Atticus was getting a sizable amount of gil from this, he would’ve sat back and watched Loezais’s bad deals finally catch up to him. But alas, a job was a job, and as much as he hated to admit it, Loezais was one of his best clients; he couldn’t walk away empty-handed.

The job was easier said than done though, because despite the fact the man couldn’t hold a candle to Atticus strength wise, it was his smart-arse mouth that started to make things difficult. He was certainly annoying to say the least and it made it all the more satisfying to send him crashing to his back after they finsiehd their brawl. 

Atticus leaned over the man who was slumped against the wall, a little bit of blood leaking from his mouth as he tried to continue jeering up at the other who bested him. “I’d be careful who you steal from next time,” Atticus threatened lightly. “You try to screw over the ones who screwed you over in Ul’dah, you suffer the consequences.”  

And with that, Atticus plucked the documents from the man’s bag and straightened up. “I certainly enjoyed this meeting,” he said lightly, dusting himself off and slinging his scythe onto his back again. “I went easy on you this time since you didn’t know any better, but next time, it won’t be so pleasant–for you at least.” With one final look at the man, Atticus turned to take his leave. 

The Hyur however, didn’t seem ready to back down despite being knocked down. “So that’s it?” he spat as he struggled to stand back up on his feet. “All of that and you’re just going to walk away?”

Atticus’s eyes narrowed as he slowly turned around, ready to throw a witty remark his way but the man opened his mouth again. 

“Looks like you’re all bark and no bite,” the Hyur said smugly as he wiped the blood from his mouth. “I thought you had a reputation that should leave me ‘shakin'!’” He made a mock gesture as if he was scared but his taunting smile said otherwise.

Cocky bastard.

Atticus froze, feeling his blood boil, and while all he wanted was to continue leaving, knowing this nuisance of a man wasn’t worth anymore of his time, the Elezen knew all too well the overwhelming furry washing over him was moreso from his voidsent, not his own self. 

Curse this new-found connection they had formed. His voidsent was beginning to get bold, trying to take over more often as of late over the smallest of annoyances.

Ignore it. Atticus grit his teeth, his hands lightly curling into fists as he fought against the unwanted rage clawing to get out. He’s just trying to rally you as a defense, he’s not worth it. He had the documents Loezais requested, the job was done–he’d be a fool to try and continue his slander without any proof.

But still, what if he went missing? He’d be doing the whole city-state a favor wiping his smug face from existence, wouldn’t he? It was after all the true request of his client. He was asked to get the documents back yes, but didn’t he also state needing a real threat to silence him and his slander in the first place? He didn’t specify how it was to be done…

No. No. Atticus knew he may be many things but a killer was not one of them. 

“What, you’re just going to stand there? Is your tongue tied?” The man continued to sneer, bringing Atticus back to the fact that he was indeed just standing there having an internal war with himself. “Did I hit a nerve? Are you the type to just make empty threats and run away?”

(“So you’re just going to run away?! Gods be dammed who you leave behind?!”)

“You don’t know me,” Atticus muttered darkly, feeling his own anger begin to mount as the man’s words began to bring up old unwanted memories. Memories of home. Memories of betrayal and guilt. Memories of him. Still, the man continued his jeers and insults, making it increasingly difficult for Atticus to know who was becoming more enraged–him or his voidsent. 

“You’re a right coward,” the man laughed. “like a pup running away with his tail between his legs! I bet that’s exactly what you did before now and why you’re running around doing someone else’s dirty work! You can’t face your own problems!” 

(You’re a coward, Ven! You turn your back on the Empire, on your people! All because you cannot face your own problems!”)

Shutupshutupshutup! Atticus pressed his hands over his ears before finally, the thread holding back his voidsent snapped.

He wasn’t exactly sure if the giddy feeling in his chest belonged to him or his voidsent but either way, he felt his lips curl into a gleeful smile as he watched the man’s expression finally twist into one of pure terror, his mouth immediately snapping closed. That’s much better. 

He loomed toward the man who let out a startled yelp and took a hesitant step back. But it was much too late, and Atticus was much too fast. 

Weapon drawn, eyes gleaming blood red, he lunged. 

–-=--=--=--

“Here’s your gil,” A velvet pouch was passed to Atticus across the table but he made no move to grab it, lost deep in thought. Loezais continued to speak to him but the words didn’t register. It wasn’t until the man was snapping his fingers in front of his face that Atticus came back to reality, blinking in confusion. 

“Pardon?” he asked slowly.

“You sure are out of it today,” his client chuckled, crossing his arms as he sat back in his chair. “I asked how ya did it? What exactly did you do to get him to stop? I haven’t heard a single word outta him whenever I’m at the Quicksand…haven’t seen him around much of late either now that I think about it.” he added in quiet bemusement. 

Atticus’s expression remained stoic though his heart sank to his stomach. Truth be told, he blacked out the moment his voidsent snapped (or was it him?) When he came to his senses again, the sight before him was one of absolute carnage, and he was sure to have nightmares about it for moons on end. Thankfully no one else was around which made the clean up swift and he made sure to give the man a proper send off–it was the only way to quell the guilt mounting inside of him over the whole ordeal.

It wasn’t my intention to do that

Atticus let out a slow breath as he grabbed the pouch of gil and pocketed it. There was no way in any layer of hell he would ever tell a soul what had happened that day.  “Haven’t I told you before?” Atticus’s eyes darkened  but he kept his tone light. “It’s better if you don’t ask. The job is done and that’s all that matters, isn’t?” He turned on his heel and made for the door, not bothering to continue the conversation any further. “You know where to find me for next time.” He lazily waved his hand goodbye in the air and the door closed with a snap.