We sat in the belly or the shadows of our Atlantean gods. Their stories had been lost to time, yet we knew we could still uncover them. Using surrational methods we channeled their myths, we collected and synthesized them. What follows is the result of our search.
PEACHTREE CENTER STATION
Before the gods was a time of blackest void. And all was of the primal heart rock then, and all was of the gneiss. And an unborn alien cry broke out upon all this orbiting solidity, and a first cracking was at once observed, and thy wheel-incrusted dragon “M” cut far through it. Ever softening us on this, the coldest of all stones. Thus was the path opened for all little walkers, all riders. Ejaculated from this, from this very first dividing were we. And an upper ladder was soon ascended. And a vertigo soon traversed. Risen were we then, there at the beginning of all history, into a new Atlantean dawn.
THE WESTIN BUILDING
There was a time when this sky-child was carefree, wandering the high mountains and clouds at will. One day when the sky-child was at play, it tripped on a great ravine and fell lengthwise across a broad continent. Like a splinter cast from the sun, scream-laughing light molecules shot forth from her fiery mouth; a beginning of all brightness. With First Fall, that overwhelming heaviness called “gravity” was born into this world. So shocked was the sky-child by this first pain that soon it cried its first tear. And where this tear fell, there rose from the granite a great citadel, one which lifted the sky-child back to its feet. It provided support and guidance for the child, and other attendant spirits helped in her formations. By her, the black was soon separated from the white, she became a god of differentiations–of definitions. All 14 stars were said to have aligned to mark her birth.
TRUIST BUILDING
He is a giant ice worm breaking sky from sky. He is a portal to the 7th dimension, and a catalyst for all destruction. Yes, this is the very god in charge of deciding when to sink the land back into the waters. His name is Arthros. He acts as a mechanism for reversed becomings, squeezed in the blue that is not blue. Arthros is mere severance from time and time’s axis, he is Movement’s betrayals beneath a fog bank in the corridors of eternity. Penetrating the self with the self, in order to become as one Unknown. Arthros’ two beloved daughters dance at his feet, pleading with him to delay the destruction. Every day they plead, and every day Arthros waits.
BANK OF AMERICA BUILDING
Her name is Lanternos, and she is both beacon and lighthouse. She invites travelers from the stars to come down and pass through her grand gate. Her light is a scent of great beauty that she uses to attract fine and bright spirits, who move softly like fabric floating gently in water. Passing her gate, they soon impregnate her. For Lanternos is a vast metallic womb, also. Spinning and birthing millions of fleshy platonic solids. Each geometric cast from her is a seed which, when planted, grows some new skyscraper demigod. Yes, this is her treasured brood, her golden children. But there is a dark one nearby who devours in secret many of these floating seedsforms before they have the chance to reach the ground, to blossom…And it is to him we now turn…
TS BUILDING
Lanternos’ dark twin, her twin with the thousand eyes. He is called Actis, and he is an open mouth which devours, and he is hunger without end. Blue electricity arcs from him like arms, tending and sorting all the things that he touches. He makes all his decisions using mysterious rules and standards, known only to himself.
– HC & SC
