The Ballad of AtaRak

Born in Neopia, taken above
To Virtupets, to be nursery-grown.
Before he could know any parents' love,
He knew machinery down to the bone.
And so the technical skills he would hone.
In growing to teen he became loyal,
Kneeling to the virtues of dear Sloth's throne,
Deeply suppressing a hidden roil.

Atarak, Green Hissi of Virtupets
Tech-talented and so station loyal
Into his internship with no regrets
And at his post he'll happily toil

Atarak worked hard. "It was good," he said.
He worked hard at, near, and far from his home.
He served his role well for his daily bread,
Cheerfully denying joys on his roam.
One day at work in his steel biome,
He pursued intruders to Sloth's workshop.
They came to sabotage Sloth's old ray dome.
He just knew that he had to make them stop.

The meddlers were tricky, but he had wit.
He stopped them with software and called for aid.
Help came and pointed a ray at the pit
To mutate those who had come to the raid.
But Atarak paused, for he talked and played
with his enemies. And his conscience cried.
He charged and shooed them away, but he paid.
With a blast of the ray, he met his Hyde.

Atarak, Mutant Hissi in repose,
Split into twain and newly conflicted.
Outward has become his internal throes.
But at Virtupets he was convicted.

Having shown mercy, he woke in the brig.
He froze, hearing a new voice in his ear:
"You could repent and work each little gig,
But we could leave here and be free with cheer.
Let's blow this joint, get ourselves back in gear.
You really have no choice but to agree.
Let's jailbreak, to our world we will steer,
And feel the desires you denied me."

This was Atar's home; he couldn't just leave!
But his other head's words in his ears rang true.
There was no more a traitor could achieve.
He followed Raki's lead, still feeling blue.
Into the cell the inquisitor flew,
A fast panel access, out came the two.
They knew the escape, and they followed through.
On a stolen ship, the two made a crew.

Atar, Raki, Mutant Hissi duo
Split into twain, to each other loyal
Still learning what to each other they owe
Same in their root, yet each other's foil.

Atar cried, "I should have just been lawful.
I'd have my home, I'd have my self-respect."
Raki chastised, "It would've been awful,
you'd be their machine, and us you'd neglect.
I'm not a stranger; we have a connect,
I'm all the feelings you sought to deflect.
I'll take the lead to correct this defect,
Let's have the fun you preferred to reject."

Acting on its own, Atar's right arm steered
the ship direct towards Neopia's sphere.
Into atmosphere, the outer ship seared,
but past thermosphere, Raki shifted gear.
"Aren't you glad I have your pilot skills here?
But there is no plan, we'll land where we land!
I have a spot now, you don't need to fear,
In the Haunted Woods we'll have a time grand!"

They landed the ship, Atar was a mess,
How could they go to a place with no plan?!
And a fugitive, there was much to stress,
It was Raki who gave the place a scan.
"Follow my lead, up to the caravan.
You'll feel my thoughts if it's the last I do."
Reluctant Atar gave in to his plan.
"Just you remember, it's my body too."

Atar, Raki, Mutant Hissi unit,
Out collecting emotional spoil,
Following the whims of Raki's sharp wit,
Out to find what of Atar to spoil.

Caravan, Carnival, little bogs all,
Games to each try, their likes to discover.
Pranks, jibs, dances, laughter, having a ball,
And past ignored joys they'd rediscover.
In the corners of the Woods they'd hover,
Till they lost sense and fell into full joy.
In many moons 'fore sense could recover,
For the first time, Atar felt like a boy.

"You've shown your feelings, but we've become frayed."
"Ragged and off-kilt is how joy is made."
"I don't think that's true, I think we have strayed
From firmness, purpose, that can't just be played.
I see now, of living, I was afraid
To live my joys, so I followed their path.
But there's more to joy than making good grade,
And more than that of our off-kilt warpath.

"I do love our games, but we need grounding.
I want to do more than just play and roam.
We can make the most of this surrounding,
But I want to rest. Let's make us a home."
Raki argued, but he too felt the gloam,
Of Atar's purposelessness over time.
"You can't just work hard, and I can't just roam.
Alright, let's make us a home that's sublime!"

They found a lair and set up their new place.
A station for each, the rest a strange blend.
Planning space for Raki, joy-seeking ace.
Working space for Atar, to project tend.
In their shared space they grew each daily trend,
Unlikely companions, to themselves true.
All or each issue they learned how to mend.
Their own joy, life journey, and path, they grew.

Atar, Raki, Mutant Hissi out there
Inseparable, each with different roles
They have found their place, they have their own lair
They're content to understand their two souls.