Right, so this is just a fic that I randomly started way back in February. I don't know how consistently it'll be updated, but that'll be a bridge I cross later. Just in case anyone missed it, this is a 2nd generation fic, meaning there are a LOT of OCs. Canon characters will show up in a while, I promise, but not for a bit yet. I was going to hold off on posting this story for a while, but since I've done so little recently, I figured I'd start it up and see what happens.
Sorry for the cruddy summary, but I'm tired. I'll come up with a better one later

This is the first time I've worked with Atin for about two years, as he was forbidden to me by my fellow author D26. (Best not get into it, you're here for the story, not my comments - I hope.) Long story short though, he's always been a favourite character of mine, but I let him suffer a lot at the hands of D26 (again, not getting into it) and I suppose, in a way, I'm making it up to him here.

Almost all characters even mentioned in this chapter are mine, except Rayn and Mizo, they are Naughty Dog's.

Atin inhaled sharply as he stepped off the boat and onto the docks of Kras. Sure, he'd heard all about the place, but nothing had prepared him for the real thing. He sucked on his lip ring and readjusted his backpack over one shoulder.

He grinned and walked further up the dock. This place was so different from home. There weren't Freedom League guards all over the streets; it was both reassuring and completely terrifying.

He knew he was gawking horribly, but it was just so...foreign. Perfect. Kras was already everything he'd hoped it would be. Excitement burned in his chest and, shooting a last look at the boat he'd come from, he set off down the dock.

After going a short way, Atin stopped and rummaged around in the pockets of his cargo pants. He pulled out a piece of paper and smoothed the wrinkles from it. The lettering was faded and hard to read, as though it had gone through the wash at least once. He squinted at the words before pocketing it again. Now he knew where he was going. How was he supposed to get there? The idea of taking a cab – provided he could find one – was unappealing after spending so long on the boat. It seemed like walking was his best bet. How far away could it be?

As things turned out, it could be very far, further than walking from the bazaar to the slums and down to the port back in Haven. It almost made him regret going on foot, but at the same time he got a better feel for the city than any other mode of transport would have allowed.

He'd lost count of the number of bars he'd passed, not that it bothered him in the slightest. He arrived at a street corner and consulted the piece of paper again. Atin looked up at the street sign, squinting at the weathered words. Right. He smirked and set off, wondering what reaction he'd get to showing up, hopefully it'd be good.

Moments later he stood in front of the door and referred to his paper again. It wasn't that he couldn't charm himself out of any awkward situation, but he'd rather not have to resort to it. Trying to look self assured, Atin rang the doorbell.

The door creaked as it was opened by a girl a few years younger than him. She peered at him without recognition. "Yes?"

He couldn't stop the grin that came at the sight of a girl, "Rodas here?" he asked.

"Sure, just a second." She turned away and called back into the house, "Rodas! Door!"

There was a clatter that sounded suspiciously like something was getting put hastily away and moments later a boy had appeared, pushing the girl out of the way. His face split into a grin the moment he laid eyes on Atin. "Hey, dude. Long time no see." He glanced over his shoulder, "Lise, shoo."

The girl stuck her tongue out at him and stalked away, nose in the air.

Rodas gave Atin a friendly punch on the arm and opened the door wider to admit him. "I know I told you to drop by anytime you were in town, but I figured, you know, you'd tell me first."

Atin laughed. "I didn't know. It was kinda a spur of the moment, you know?"

The darker skinned of the two teenagers looked confused. "No, actually."

"Oh." Atin shrugged, "Whatever." He flicked his head in the direction the girl had gone, "Was that your sister?"

If Rodas was confused by the sudden change of topic, it didn't show. "Lise? Yeah, why?"

"Just wondering. She's hot."

"Sick, dude, sick," Rodas said, shaking his head.

Atin shrugged again.

"So, what brings you to Kras?"

Atin's expression fell slightly, as though he'd been hoping that particular question wasn't about to be asked. "Honestly? I got kicked out."

"I thought you were getting along better with your parents."

Atin snorted. "Yeah right. Dad eased up for a bit, but he's still a total hard-ass. Figured I'd stay away for a while. Out of city, you know?"

Again Rodas shook his head, "Still don't know the feeling, but hey, things are different for me."

Atin grinned. "Well, I'm glad you can understand. Or try to. That's more than anyone in Haven does." He looked around the house for a few moments. It was nice. Homey, like it had some sort of welcoming factor that his home in Haven was severely lacking in.

"Nice place," he said at last.

Rodas shrugged. "It's not much, but it's home." There was a moment where Rodas appeared to wrestle with himself before asking, "You wanna crash here for a while?"

"Sure. If I'm not going to be a pain or anything," Atin said, trying not to let his relief show. He hadn't actually planned what he was going to do if Rodas had turned him away. His friend's hesitation, however, had not been lost on him.

"Nah, you won't be. Don't worry about it. Just..." he bit his lip, looking suddenly nervous.

"Just?"

"Look, your rep's made it out here before you, so... If you're going to stay here, keep your hands off my sister, and don't bring girls back with you. Mom will kill both of us."

Atin couldn't help looking a little taken aback at this comment.

"Don't try playing innocent, everyone here has heard about your little nightly escapades. So I'm just giving you the heads up, if you're staying here, there's none of that going on."

Atin put his hands up defensively, "God, I haven't even done anything yet. Let me at least screw up before you start harassing me." He sighed and wrapped one of the chains hanging from his belt loops around his fingers.

"Alright, alright, sorry."

"Don't bother." He sighed. He should've known that his behaviour would be known here. It was pretty well impossible, being who he was. He shot a quick, dark look at Rodas and another tense moment passed between the pair of them.

"Do your parents know you're here?"

Atin snorted. "That would be rather counterproductive to the action of running away, wouldn't you say? The whole point is so my parents don't know where I am." He looked around the interior of the house again. "Course I don't think it'll take a lot of brain power for Dad to figure out where I've gone." His following grin was sheepish and looked quite out of place. "He knows I can't stay away from cars."

"Or girls..." Rodas muttered.

Atin glared and punched him in the shoulder. Hard. "Next time it's your face. If I've got to play the 'good boy' while I'm here, you cannot say stuff like that." His blue eyes narrowed and glared in to Rodas's grey ones.

Rodas massaged his shoulder, looking displeased. "If it bugs you that much, why the hell do you do it in the first place?"

Atin shrugged. "Lets me forget about stuff. They don't complain either. Let's stop discussing it, shall we?"

"Whatever you say, tackle box."

"What did you just call me?"

"Tackle box," Rodas said, reaching out and tugging Atin's right ear for emphasis, "Looks like you fell headfirst into one."

Atin shoved him playfully. "Come off it."

"No, I don't think I will," Rodas said, grinning. "C'mon. I'll show you the guest room." He turned, and without checking that his friend was following, headed to the stairs.

Atin shrugged and followed him. Guest room, huh? He'd been expecting the couch, if anything.

Rodas waited by the door while Atin unpacked – unpacked being the loose term applied to the upending of his backpack over the bed. "So what do you think of Kras so far?"

The pale teen shrugged. "Different. Not like home. Seems a load easier to get away with stuff here."

Rodas cocked his head, asking, "How so?"

"There's not guards all over the place."

"What'd you expect? It's a gang town, which, while you're here, you'll want to be careful of."

Atin waved him off. "I'm not stupid – contrary to popular belief." He shrugged. "I've heard the horror stories from my dad, he's visited."

Rodas appeared to consider this statement. "Back when Mizo was dethroned... He helped that, didn't he?"

Atin shrugged nonchalantly. "You could say that."

"Dude... What are the odds that your dad would have a hand in shaping the history of my home city?"

"Pretty good, I guess. It's not that amazing, he did a lot back home too," Atin said, zipping up his backpack and throwing it to the side with a great deal more force than was necessary. "That's all past stuff though, right? What matters is the now."

Rodas looked at Atin quizzically. "You okay?"

"What? Oh yeah, sure. Fine. Why?"

"Cause you look pissed."

"Well, I'm fine. F-I-N-E." Atin smoothed out his shirt and sat on the bed. He shot a look at Rodas, plainly daring him to try and continue the thread of conversation.

A tense moment passed between them before Rodas shrugged and said, "So, you're here, you probably want to see some of the sights, huh?"

Atin grinned at him. "Dude, it's like you read my mind."

Rodas seemed on edge almost the moment they'd walked out the door, but as to why, Atin wasn't quite sure. He decided to push the matter from his mind and soon found other things to dwell on – like the fact that he was getting stared at by people on the street. They weren't even particularly subtle about it.

"Hey, Rod?" Atin asked after his annoyance about the funny looks was getting too hard to ignore.

"Mm?"

"What's up with everyone?"

It was another moment where Rodas appeared to grapple with conflicting feelings before he managed to answer. "Give me your hand," he said, extending one of his.

Atin recoiled slightly. "Why?" he demanded.

"Just do it, okay?"

His pierced eyebrow raised sceptically, Atin placed his hand gingerly in Rodas's as though afraid it was some form of complex trap. The other boy raised their linked hands to Atin's eye level.

"Tell me what the difference is."

"What?"

He gave Atin's arm a little shake for emphasis. "What's the main difference here?"

Atin blinked, looking at him without comprehension. "Um... Is this a trick question?"

"No. Just tell me. What's the difference?"

Looking more dumbfounded than ever, Atin ventured a tentative guess. "You...have cleaner fingernails than I do?"

"No! Skin tone. I'm tanned. You are like a walking corpse. You're pure white."

"How the hell does that make a difference?"

Rodas sighed and released Atin's hand. "In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't. But it makes you stick out. All it takes is one look to tell that you're not from around here."

"And that's a problem?"

The Kras teenager shrugged. "It could be."

"How so?"

Rodas shrugged again. "Dunno. Just...Keep it in mind. You stick out."

Atin nodded slowly. "Consider it noted. Is there any particular reason for it?"

Again, Rodas shrugged. "Let's just say, foreigners aren't exactly...welcome...around here. Haveners in particular. No offense, but the last time your lot stuck your noses in our business, things got messed up bad."

Atin cocked his head to the side. "And that will somehow come back around to be my fault? Way to hold a grudge, dude."

Rodas ran a hand back through his floppy strip of hair. "It's not me; it's just Kras in general. Throwing Mizo out of power was, well, rough on us – apparently." For a fleeting moment, he looked like there was something else he was going to say, but thought better of it.

"So, let me get this straight. I'm potentially in trouble because of something that happened nearly two and a half decades ago?"

"Pretty much."

Atin gave his head a shake of dismay. "That's nuts."

Rodas shrugged. "It is what it is. How long has Spargus had problems with Haven?"

The paler boy blinked, cocked his head slightly and said, "No idea."

"You see my point."

"No, not really. But for the sake of you shutting up about it, I'll pretend I do."

Rodas cuffed him lightly on the back of the head. "You're an idiot."

"What else is new?"

The shorter boy laughed and punched Atin lightly on the shoulder. "You're so weird sometimes." He glanced at his watch. "C'mon, we should get back. Mom'll have dinner ready soon. Hope you like spicy stuff."

Atin's eyes lit up in an instant. "Are yakows fat and lazy? I love hot food!"

Rodas slung an arm around his friend's shoulders, grinning broadly. "What d'ya know? There's hope for you yet."

BTW: If at ANY point a 'J' mysteriously makes it's way into Atin's name, please mention it. Seriously.

And his parentage is remaining...undisclosed...for the moment. Any guesses as to whose brat he is are most welcome though. ;P