The Cathedral (Ministry of Death)

↘↘↘ Atlas was glancing over his shoulder towards Crona as he was soon approached by yet another member, he wasn't quite sure if it was the pink hair, the shy demeanor, or his curious blood that attracted all of that attention but he figured it'd be an odd experience all the same. The sounds from that side of the room were muffled, and as he started to make out a few words the polite member of the church spoke up again. Drawing his attention away from the group. Lucky? That was an odd thought, but he dismissed it as she went on to talk about how careful she must be around strangers. Like it didn't work the other way around too. "How many people does she address warmly?" Atlas inquired, raising an eyebrow with a light smirk; but it dismissed quickly. While he had jested on the youths behalf, this was her family; he couldn't go making many jokes about her while she was gone now could he? As she let the other members know that food was on the way, Atlas followed suit from her departure; feeling all kinds of eyes following them on their way out. Taking a breath, Atlas just tried to ignore the feeling that filled him at the thought of being surrounded.


↘↘↘ As they entered the kitchen and the sister managed to point out the stove, he nodded; idly opening a few cabinets on his own as she started talking about their progression. As she mentioned reheating the beans he paused however, glancing towards her to see if she was serious; he seemed almost surprised but as he imagined the amount of food they had to prepare he began to picture the situation. While he was accustomed to making food as fresh as he could, that was for paying customers; it must take a village to feed this lot. "Sounds decent," Atlas went on, managing to find a large pot through his cabinet rifling; bringing it over towards the sister who was holding the bag. "I'll start on the rice if you bring out beans to be reheated." Atlas went on, setting the pot down beside their apparent sink/faucet and approaching the sister with an outstretched hand for the bag of rice. He expected a bit of hesitation, but it was efficient for them to be doing two things at once; and it's not like he would be out of sight. As he had started to approach her though she had mentioned Blood, which while he had managed to assume who they were talking about earlier this was one of the few times the child's name had been confirmed. Atlas was hesitant to answer her question, and took a moment to reply but after a short breath he spoke up. "Westonshire. I was there for some clothing and food stock believe it or not, when a couple of soldiers came in and started rounding up civilians." Atlas began, idly rolling up his sleeves and folding the cuffs back along his elbow so he wouldn't ruin anything while cooking. "I came across both Blood and the pink haired youth out there in a small building on my way towards the food stock, it looked like your little one was protecting the kid as he cowered from the soldiers." He went on, boldly looking the sister in her eyes as he spoke without any further hesitation. "She scared off a few soldiers with that flaming chainsaw of hers, I asked for directions; was told to leave. A few dead soldiers later and a few rebels making their way out; I found the two of them again. Well, them and that white haired elder we brought with us. Come to think of it, it was apparently his soldiers that attacked in the first place." Atlas went on, thinking about the older male; and how it was apparently his soldiers that had caused the strike. "Anyway, I tried to keep the pink haired kid from coming to a place like this; figured it wasn't a good spot for someone afraid of violence. Blood didn't take to kindly to opposition, claiming him as her property; she managed to threaten the both of us into coming. Between her and the old man, there was no way I could have got out of coming here." He finished, still looking towards the bag of rice for a moment; all too willing to help cook for them. "You must find that crazy. Trying to help a cowardly boy and getting roped into coming here, as if Heroes still existed. I blame one of the rebels who managed to stick the idea that I should take care of the youths in my head, but in all honesty maybe I'm just a bit crazy. Mind if I start the rice?" He finished, clearly set on cooking; and while he wasn't opposed to talking he wasn't one to start it.

↘↘↘ Atlas tried not to think to much about the way she laughed as he explained his encounter with her, but as she started talking about Crona and handed him the bag of rice he was able to start his own portion of the meal. He idly poured out a large portion of the rice into the pot, thinking about how many mouths they were expected to feed here. "It seems that way. It doesn't look like he's broken down or started crying, which is a good thing. He did that a lot back in Westonshire." Atlas spoke, he wasn't opposed to sharing other people's personal matters. The boy was fragile, he was surprised that nothing here had managed to set him off yet. As Atlas finished pouring the rice, he set the pot down before taking a minute to wash his hands thoroughly. Once that was done, he was able to pour some hot water into the pot; stirring the rice about to get any starch, or whatever preservative they use nowadays off. After a few rinses he was content, assuring that the water was about the length of his index finger above the rice. Through the cooking he had listened to the sister, her idle conversation about how his actions were merely uncommon; and that there were more no more heroes. She said it almost like a question, to which he glanced back towards her. Her posture had changed, slumped slightly, apparently the thought was depressing; sighing to himself Atlas lifted his pot and made his way over to the stove beside her.


↘↘↘ "I didn't catch her name." Atlas remarked as he stepped up beside her, turning on another topper for the stove and setting the rice down atop of it. "But if it's that important to you, vibrant red hair, a shade lighter than my own. Carried a big gun. Not much else I could say, but it seemed like she new the old man to some degree." He finished, watching both the rice and the beans for a second. "Should we finish these two before starting the hashbrowns? Or can they be done simultaneously while these cook?"

↘↘↘ Atlas continued cooking and checking in on the rice as the sister kept speaking, even managing to glance over at the beans as she nearly finished her line of questioning. "Not much else to mention. Why do you ask? Are you familiar with local vigilantes?" Atlas jested, turning his attention towards her to gauge her reaction at that; his eyes searching for any reaction. A twitch of the lips, a burrow or crease from her forehead, something that discerned a possible reaction from her. As she mentioned the hash browns though he only nodded in understanding.


↘↘↘ That was when the mother figure returned. Her exclamation about Blood and the others immediately drew in their attention, 'Allies?' Atlas thought to himself, quickly dismissing the thought that the larger groups of super-criminals were planning things. As the sister became engrossed with the chain of command, Atlas glanced over both pots to assure both were cooking well before stepping up beside her and resting his hand on the pan she was holding. "I'll get it heated and ready, while you make sure everything is alright." Atlas offered, "If that's okay with you." He finished; waiting for approval to take the pan by her loosening her grip before returning to the stove to start the heat, possibly setting the pan down to get it ready.