[Atlas has work to do. He said he'd stay until Jack falls asleep and he does, oddly enough, drinking and thinking of his next steps. People need to be moved, Ryan's offices need to be ransacked, someone has to go clear out whatever's left in Suchong's lab that's programmed to shoot Frank Fontaine on sight... There's just so much to do.
But he stays there for the time it takes Jack to fall asleep, all the same. But he doesn't loiter, taking his leave to start mobilizing as soon as his half-whisper of Jack's name doesn't make him stir and get up. Just checking - at least he's not hissing "boyo" at him in the dark.
Atlas is energized for the next day, while Jack it out cold. He doesn't check on him and doesn't let anyone else check on him, either; the boy can sleep, he's earned it. Sooner or later he'll have to stand in front of a crowd of Atlas' people and nod while Atlas speaks for him about heroism and taking back Rapture, but not yet. Things have to be more stable in this god-forsaken city, first. Someone has to find where Tenenbaum's holed herself up with the rest of those Little Sisters, actually— this is what he's focused on when Jack finally gets up. Atlas isn't in the apartment, but the door to the one next door is ajar and voices, Atlas' among them, are coming from inside.
He's got a kitchen table turned into a strategy table already, covered in papers and cigarette stubs and a plan of Rapture with a few places circled where that woman might be. The few other people in the room look up when they hear noise outside, and Atlas hastily tells them not to fucking move and moves to pop his head out into the hall, gun in hand.
no subject
But he stays there for the time it takes Jack to fall asleep, all the same. But he doesn't loiter, taking his leave to start mobilizing as soon as his half-whisper of Jack's name doesn't make him stir and get up. Just checking - at least he's not hissing "boyo" at him in the dark.
Atlas is energized for the next day, while Jack it out cold. He doesn't check on him and doesn't let anyone else check on him, either; the boy can sleep, he's earned it. Sooner or later he'll have to stand in front of a crowd of Atlas' people and nod while Atlas speaks for him about heroism and taking back Rapture, but not yet. Things have to be more stable in this god-forsaken city, first. Someone has to find where Tenenbaum's holed herself up with the rest of those Little Sisters, actually— this is what he's focused on when Jack finally gets up. Atlas isn't in the apartment, but the door to the one next door is ajar and voices, Atlas' among them, are coming from inside.
He's got a kitchen table turned into a strategy table already, covered in papers and cigarette stubs and a plan of Rapture with a few places circled where that woman might be. The few other people in the room look up when they hear noise outside, and Atlas hastily tells them not to fucking move and moves to pop his head out into the hall, gun in hand.
Oh, it's just the boy. He sighs.]
Top o' the mornin', boyo. Over here.
[real irish people don't even say this]