After the disastrous episode at Sofia’s house Wendell had slunk miserably away uncertain of what to do. His cover was blown but neither were most people actually aware that he was alive. So it didn’t seem particularly prudent for him to be wandering around London’s streets, as he was still technically a fugitive. He felt that his best option was to return to Jasper’s and regroup himself before that bloody Ballantine woman stumbled across him. He turned on the spot to apparate to Diagon Alley but bewilderingly found himself still standing in Rowling Terrace.

Irritated but blaming it on a lack of concentration (his mind was after all still very much back in Sofia’s townhouse) he tried again to apparate to Jasper’s shop. Another failure had him very much concerned that he was going to be spotted by one of her neighbors. So he tried to add a hood to his jacket with a quick spell. But that didn’t work either; in fact none of his magic would work.

Hours later as other wizards were pouring into the streets bemoaning their own lack of magic he would realize that it wasn’t his fault. All the magic in London had mysteriously disappeared leaving the wizarding population very much reminiscent of their muggle neighbors. And since he couldn’t apparate he started to walk towards Diagon Alley.

It turned out to be a much longer journey than he anticipated, not simply because he had to cross a rather large portion of muggle London to reach Diagon Alley but also because of the unpleasant scene that greeted him once he arrived. Instead of being securely hidden away behind the Leaky Cauldron from the view of muggles by magic it was perfectly open for the world to see. A new block had suddenly appeared in the center of London and the muggles were understandably alarmed by its sudden appearance. It was terribly difficult to squeeze past the muggles that were now pouring through Diagon Alley with disbelieving expressions on their faces. Finally however he made it to the jewelry shop and tried to escape from the crushing crowd inside. Alas it was locked! Undoubtedly to keep the muggle interlopers at bay. Without magic it took quite a bit longer to make it inside, he resorted to picking the lock by muggle means. And safely inside he locked the door behind him before any nosey visitors could slip in.

He was terribly uncertain of most things in life at this point. The world seemed to be falling apart at its hinges and magic had evaporated into thin air. But if there was one thing he knew he could depend on (apocalypse or not) was Jasper and his infinite supply of liquor.

“Jasper!! Jasper, are you here? I need a place to stay! The potion has worn o—“

He threw open the door to the study expecting to find Jasper mixing himself a martini but he found Atlas lounging on the couch instead. His sentence accordingly died on his lips and was replaced with an appropriate “Oh Sh*t!” Instead of finding someone to help sort out the mess he had thrown himself into, he ran into yet another person who presumed him to be dead. Not that Atlas was a particularly dangerous person to find out his secret, but Wendell rightfully assumed that this was going to require a rather long explanation of how he came to be in the land of the living.

“Oh—Hullo Atlas! Feeling any better?”

It looked like the Night of the Living Dead out there as Atlas stood at the window of Jasper's study watching as muggles and wizards alike spilled onto the streets. Jasper had left sometime earlier for some sort of meeting with a man with far too many vowels in his name; he'd asked if Atlas wanted to come but he hadn't felt up to being any kind of protective detail, and he'd lost sergeis beard in the explosion. At least he thought that he had but the wreckage hadn't been properly picked over yet. The decision not to accompany had left Atlas to himself. This was after Atlas had sworn not to rearrange the furniture for better chi flows, and to not touch anything that could even be liberally labeled as a home or kitchen appliance. This had resulted in few options being left open to him and so he'd grabbed a book and settled down for a read, which had turned into a nap moment later.

He couldn't say what exactly had woken him but he opened his eyes and sat upright with a strange queasy feeling in his head and stomach. It wasn't odd for him to feel this way given the circumstance so he'd pulled himself from the couch, preparing to go in search of pain killers, that's when he had noticed the bones. Usually when Rudolph fell apart he bleated until someone came to reassemble him but there was no sound coming from the skull that Atlas discovered behind the arm chair. Wandlessly he tried to accio the head and felt nothing. He extracted his wand and tried again, nothing. Something was wrong. Bending low he scooped up the head and jumped when the jaw clacked off and fell to the floor.

There was, for lack of a better word, no life in the skeleton. Rudolph was dead. Something shattered outside and that's when he had started watching the show of muggles flooding into the streets. Something was very wrong here. He hoped Jasper had been meeting someone non magically inclined and that he'd get back alright. He'd watch for a bit, holding Rudolph's head and growing more restless, then he'd decided to lie back down. He didn't even hear the back door opening, didn't know someone was there until they were behind him.

He craned his head back, expecting to see Jasper and instead coming eye to eye with......Wendell?Oh S**t. Sentiments expressed more or less exactly Atlas continued to watch, blinking now and again.

Oh.... Said Wendell as he stood in the door with his hand still on the door knob. Atlas glanced down at the skull on his chest and then back up, Hullo Atlas! Feeling any better?

"I was, I thought." He mumbled still watching Wendell with his head propped on one of the sofa arms. "Hallucinations don't really bode all that well though. Those aren't supposed to be one of the side effects...At either rate you should come in. I'll be honest when my mind went I didn't expect I'd be seeing you but at least it explains the Muggles out on the streets."

He sat up a bit, transferring Rudolph to his lap as he blinked at the man. "This doesn't really feel like a hallucination displaying a degree of mental deterioration. In advance I'm sorry I didn't go to your funeral, no body, no point."