Appearance
Anatolios may be a Harvard professor, but you wouldn’t know it from looking at him; his tacky, over-the-top suits, wild hair, and cheesy grin rather call to mind a used car salesman. Unusual attire aside, he’s actually quite attractive, a fine example of the “tall, dark, and handsome” character. He has a rich olive complexion and strong, sharp features framed by mid-length wavy black hair (he claims that it is painstakingly styled every morning, but it looks suspiciously like he just rolls out of bed and parts it to the side). Faint laugh lines are the only hint at his age; he has the looks and energy of a man twenty years younger. In terms of build, he’s about average at 5’10” and 180 pounds, though a good look at him will tell you he gives his brain a lot more exercise than his body.
For his trip to Aster City, he’s forsaken his beloved suits for the ultimate tourist getup, complete with Aloha shirt, unflattering cargo shorts, and digital camera with neck strap (“go big or go home,” he reportedly told his visibly disappointed family).
History
As the son of a marine biologist and an anthropologist, Anatolios developed a love for learning at an early age. He often accompanied his parents on the job, and although he eventually drew away from his mother’s anthropology work (sharks and whales were much cooler than people), it left him with a lasting admiration for the astonishing variation in human culture. He was particularly interested in that of ancient Greece - the powerful deities and awesome creatures found in its mythology fascinated him, and he spent countless hours after school (and sometimes during, unbeknownst to his parents) researching the field that he would later dedicate his career to.
His father’s studies took him to many different parts of the world, and Anatolios traveled with him whenever he could. While his old man tagged sharks and tested waters, he dedicated his time on the ocean to finding the coolest creature of all: the ever-elusive mermaid. He had some knowledge of his family’s magical ancestry, but his parents far from embraced it - his father had suppressed his own powers for so long that he was completely unable to use them. He firmly believed that there was no place for magic in the age of science and technology, and he hoped that his son would discover the same. Anatolios longed to meet other magical beings and learn about their abilities, hoping that they might even be able to teach him how to control his. Merfolk, he reasoned, would be the perfect supernatural study buddies - he had easy access to the ocean from his home in Fira, so he could contact them whenever he wanted, and they could teach him vital skills like seduction and breathing underwater. Determined though he was - he even attempted to teach himself whale song to reach them - he was never able to find a mermaid. That doesn’t mean he’s given up, though; thirty years older and five thousand miles from Greece, he’s still on the hunt for one. It’s never once crossed his mind that they might be well aware of him and intentionally staying far, far away.
Though he was by no means a responsible student, often shirking his work to hunt mythical creatures or attempt to teach himself homemade spells, he was an exceptionally sharp one, graduating with exceptional marks. And though his study habits seemed to indicate otherwise, he had by then come to view teaching as the most important profession of all - learning had given him the drive to pursue his passions and opened his eyes to things he might never have seen otherwise. He wanted to give those invaluable gifts to students of his own, so he decided to become a professor of the field he loved most: mythology. He was accepted to Harvard University, his mother’s alma mater and an institution he had admired all his life, and, in the summer of 1988, made the journey to the United States to begin his new life.
Anatolios was fascinated by the unfamiliar country. The sights and sounds of Massachusetts were nothing like he’d ever experienced back in his quaint seaside hometown, and he immediately set out to explore every inch of the sprawling city of Cambridge. He loved its blend of majestic colonial and modern architecture, the life and energy it exuded, and, of course, its status as one of the foremost academic and intellectual centers in the world, but what he came to admire most about it was its rich cultural scene. Cambridge and its neighboring cities were home to thousands of people from dozens of countries who had built them into lively and harmonious cultural centers. Anatolios delighted in learning about and experiencing them, and he especially enjoyed hanging around the Greek parts of Boston. Shortly before his classes started, he took a job at a Greek corner store, prompted in equal parts by a desire to connect with others like him and a quickly depleting bank account (he enjoyed the edible parts of other cultures perhaps a bit too much).
University life brought him the intellectual stimulation and power to learn he sought after, but it also demanded he put more time into his academics than he probably had in the past thirteen years combined. He found out quickly (and painfully, in terms of his grades) that he couldn’t pour all his time into magical studies like he’d done back home - at least, not if he wanted to graduate. For the sake of his future career, he forced himself to get it in gear - although not before an ill-fated attempt to show the Classics board the merits of his “independent research,” in which all he succeeded in summoning was the Cambridge Fire Department. Eventually he settled into an effective routine that both allowed him to stay afloat academically and left him enough time for the supernatural shenanigans he so loved.
He also had to make time for his job, of course, and in the spring of his senior year, it was in that little Greek corner store that he met his wife Eleana. An Irish teacher-in-training visiting family in Boston, Eleana had stopped by to pick up ingredients for dinner at her Greek-loving grandmother’s request. She hadn’t been told what to get, though, so, unfamiliar with all the signs and labels that were very literally Greek to her, she turned to the man working the counter for recommendations. And for Anatolios, it was love at first sight - everything about her, from her face to her accent to the way she asked him what the hell he was staring at, was perfect. Eager to impress, he gave her the ingredients to his mother’s easy pork gyros and, cool as the cucumbers in the store’s tzatziki sauce, slipped his phone number into the recipe he’d written on the back of her receipt. After bashfully accepting her thanks, he saw her out and spent the rest of the evening absentmindedly mislabeling cold cuts, daydreaming about when she might call and all the romantic things he could say to win her heart.
The call came earlier than even he’d expected, though, and as he excitedly picked up his cell phone on the walk home from locking up the shop, he was met not by words of passion but by a furious “what in God’s name is this, I can’t read half the words on this page.” It had turned out that, head over heels as he was, he’d lapsed partway through into writing the recipe in its native Greek - his handwriting was so nightmarish, Eleana told him, that she hadn’t even noticed at first glance. But here she was now, with a family waiting to be fed, a recipe that was half illegible and half in the wrong language, and a deli employee who had some serious explaining to do. It took some talking to convince her that no, it wasn’t a ploy to get her to call him, he really was just that stupid, but ultimately he was able to talk her through the process, putting every bit of pride into it as his mother had when she taught it to him.
When they finally hung up, Anatolios didn’t really expect to ever hear from her again (except, maybe, in the form of a bad Yelp review for the store); they’d gotten off on the wrong foot for sure, and from what she’d told him at the counter, she might not even be in the States for that much longer. Needless to say he was surprised when, as he was giving his exam notes a gloomy look-over later that night, he heard his phone ring and saw it was the same number. Unsure of what was coming, he picked it up. And to his delight, she’d actually just called him back to say thank you - and apologize for being so short with him. Her family had been thrilled with the gyros, she told him, and her grandmother, a Boston resident of nearly 70 years now, had gone so far as to say they were the best she’d ever had. Apparently so good, in fact, that when Eleana told her the story of the dreamy deli man and his indecipherable recipe, she’d practically begged her granddaughter to give him another ring - “when you find a man who can cook that well, you never let him go.” Eleana herself wasn’t opposed to the idea - he wasn’t bad-looking, and he was definitely nice, if a little eccentric - so, politely, she asked him if he’d like to go out to dinner with her as thanks for his help. And though he’d been kicking himself for not having any Casanovan lines at the ready, this was an arrangement Anatolios was quite happy with - food, as it happened, was a language he knew very well.
And before either of them knew it, their one late-night date at Boston’s best pub had blossomed into another and another, and their troubled chance meeting at the deli had turned out to be nothing short of a miracle. Eleana found herself falling for this strange man and all his idiosyncrasies - who else out there had such an elaborate repertoire of mermaid-themed pickup lines? - and Anatolios, as if he needed any more proof in the first place, was sure she was his one and only. Even though they soon had to part with heavy hearts - Eleana’s vacation in the States was over, and she had to return to Ireland for schooling of her own - they promised to always keep close in touch over the phone. And they did just that: while it was often difficult to coordinate their schedules, neither long hours nor the ocean between them could keep them apart. Anatolios happily spent late nights and early mornings chatting with her about work, academic achievements (or failures, as there so often were), his new favorite sea creature of the day - anything and everything he could think of made him happy as long as it was with her. So when he got his first big international phone bill in the mail, he quietly began picking up more shifts to pay the premium each month… not before promptly spitting coffee all over said bill, though.
They stayed together for the next couple years, spending every break they could together in Boston, visiting all of Anatolios’ favorite places and discovering new ones, whiling away the time making memories in the vast beautiful city that had brought them together - and, of course, stopping in with Eleana’s grandmother every once in a while, who had been quite happy to adopt Anatolios as a part-time caterer. In spite of any physical distance, time only brought them closer together. School was going exceptionally well for both of them, too - so well, in fact, that before Anatolios knew it, he was on the last year of his Master’s degree, with numerous accolades under his belt and an offer to begin teaching at Harvard as an assistant professor. It was nearly everything he had dreamed of - money in the bank, a prestigious teaching job, respect and acknowledgment of his research (the fire department sure owed him an apology now, he thought) - all he had left to do was to bring home the final and most important piece of them all.
He proposed to Eleana on their third anniversary, as they were looking out over Boston Harbor, with a ring he’d had specially fashioned from a bright green piece of seaglass he’d found in Fira many summers ago. And after some tears and a good few times calling him a jackass for making her so sappy in public, she said yes - it was a huge change for her, no doubt, but anywhere with him was just the place she wanted to be. They wed in Santorini that summer and moved together to Waban, a quieter part of Newton that was both close enough to work and far enough away from the great hustle and bustle of the city. Anatolios began the Harvard teaching job he’d coveted for so long and became fast friends with fellow instructor Toby Hooker, to the despair of quite possibly every other member of the faculty; Eleana found work at a local elementary school, where her accent and humor quickly made her the delight of the staff and students alike.
After a few years of living and working together as educators, they came to realize they wanted children of their own – and not long after, they became the proud parents of twin sons: Frederick and Theodore. For Anatolios, this was one of the happiest moments of his life - and a chance to rectify the mistakes his own father had made in his childhood. Though Anatolios and his old man had a close working relationship all throughout his school years, that, ultimately, was all it was: work. Anatolios had always felt like his father saw him more as an intern than a son (and a rather annoying one, at that). So, with sons of his own now, he resolved to be the best father he possibly could; a father who loved his kids and supported them in everything they did, who embraced all their weirdness and creativity rather than shutting it down as unsightly, who taught them and shared the world with them without making it a chore. And, of course, he would make an effort to actually teach them how to wield their magic rather than hide it from them – because it wouldn’t be a day with Professor G without some good old-fashioned recreational arson.
Unfortunately, his determination to be the raddest dad he could ironically led to him being more than a little overbearing. His efforts to teach them the wonders of magic were met with failure far sooner than even he was used to; it seemed time and disuse had at last completely diminished his bloodline’s innate magical abilities, as his sons, even in their teen years, were incapable of manifesting even the tiny spark Anatolios could. Eleana, personally, considered this a blessing – temper tantrums mixed with literal flaming blades of light was not something she had particularly been looking forward to – but Anatolios was disappointed he hadn’t been able to pass on something so vitally important to his identity and his path in life. To his great surprise, they even found his academic work dreary (Gods and magic! Boring! What’s gotten into kids these days!?). He was determined, though, to find something they could bond over as a family – and the result of this was a solid 17 years of well-intentioned but infuriating helicoptering. Frederick and Theodore did pick up a bit of a rebellious streak, but they were good students, excellent friends, and all-around respectable young men – and for that, at least, Anatolios was proud.
So, when their high school’s homecoming festival rolled around in the fall of their junior year, Anatolios was more than willing to let them go to the pre-game tailgate party they’d been hyping up. They’d been studying hard all semester and were very near the top of their class; of course they deserved a bit of fun. Stuck doing meetings and grant hearings all that evening, he’d texted them at the end of the school day, wishing them a good time and reminding them to be home before 10, as always – and, as always, they’d obliged. The rest of his day proceeded uneventfully; board meetings were bored meetings as usual, and this year’s grant proposals had been nothing out of the ordinary thus far. Late that evening, he ducked into his office for a few minutes to gather some papers for an upcoming presentation. And then he got the call no parent ever wanted to receive.
Theodore had been hit by a driver who’d jumped the curb just behind the school’s stadium, and from Frederick’s hysterical voice on the other end of the phone, it looked bad. His son, who had been buying something for them from the concessions stand, told him that he’d heard screams and skidding tires and looked over just in time to see an explosion of violet light – and the vehicle crashing into a streetlamp, with his brother thrown into a fence beside it. He’d called for an ambulance immediately and was on the way to the hospital with his unconscious twin, beaten up but, thus far, in stable condition. With his heart in his throat, Anatolios assured Frederick it would be okay, called Eleana, and rushed off to the hospital to meet the rest of his family.
After examination, Theodore’s condition, miraculously, was better than anyone could have hoped; indeed, doctors were astonished that he’d received so few injuries from a direct motor vehicle hit like that. All the wounds he’d sustained inexplicably appeared to have been cauterized before anyone even touched him – which, Anatolios realized in disbelief, must have been the doing of his magic. Anatolios cried when he learned his son was only suffering from a few odd burns and a minor concussion – relief, for the most part, but mixed with regret, despair, disappointment in himself. He was a father. It was his job to protect his children. And yet, here he was, powerless to do anything but weep for the life of his son, who could very well have died were it not for the power he’d never even been able to teach him how to control. It was a side of him the happy-go-lucky Professor Giannakopoulos had never shown any one – hell, he didn’t even know he had it himself – and he didn’t know how to handle it. For once he’d run into something no amount of research or experimentation could give him the answer to. Failure in academia was something he was very well accustomed to, but failure as a father? Unbearable.
And when Theo was discharged a few short weeks later, that lingering feeling of failure didn’t disappear with him – if anything, it worsened, now that he was able to look his boy in the eyes again. The grief followed Anatolios everywhere he went; when he’d come back to Harvard from a brief emergency leave, his students knew immediately that something was wrong. His thoughts always seemed to be elsewhere, and the light had gone from his eyes; he’d forget what he’d taught two days before, lose his place in lectures, slip out of the classroom without a word once the period ended. The sadness he didn’t know he was capable of had all but consumed him, and it seemed impossible to pull him out of it.
Until, not long after, his own father flew in from Greece for a visit. Eleana, it turned out, had called his parents one night at wits’ end, at a loss for what to do to help her husband. They were aware of the situation with their grandson, of course, but because Anatolios himself shied away from talking to them, they didn’t know just how deeply it was affecting him. After hearing all that Eleana could tell him, Anatolios’ father decided he would try to address his son in person – because whether Anatolios realized it or not, fears over being a bad father were something even his own dad dealt with.
Even the sadness couldn’t stop Anatolios from being surprised when he saw his old man come in during his office hours at Harvard. They’d only seen each other in person a handful of times the past two or so decades – they were both busy men, after all, and Anatolios had to balance out spending time with Eleana’s family too – and not once had his father come to visit him. But this wasn’t just some random surprise visit; it was the father-son heart-to-heart Anatolios so desperately needed to get back on his feet again. Anatolios talked over his fear and guilt with his father, and it both lifted the weight of his self-imposed blame and helped him reconnect with the parent he long worried thought him just a nuisance. It was a long time coming, but in that moment he was more grateful for it than anything.
And with the light and heart finally back in his life, Anatolios rekindled his relationship with his family – Eleana, who had been worried sick about him, and his sons, who assured him they’d never seen their dad as anything but a lovable bother – and jumped emphatically back into teaching and research. His sons themselves soon graduated high school and followed their own paths; Frederick, moved by the EMTs who’d come to his brother’s rescue after the accident, decided to pursue firefighting as his own way of helping people in need, and Theodore, searching for a means of channeling the awesome power he’d so briefly been able to harness, began a pharmacology degree at MIT. Anatolios and Eleana were sad to see the nest empty, as any parents would be, but all the same, they were prouder than ever and eager to see what sort of heights their sons would reach on their own.
An empty nest has afforded him one thing he didn’t have much of before, though – free time. As Harvard University’s resident maniacal magical manchild, Anatolios has heard of Aster City before – known of it for quite a while, actually – but hasn’t had the chance to get away and see it for himself. This year, though, he’s finally managed to convince the Classics board of the merits of a personal field trip: where else in the country, or the world, even, can you find so many magics gathered all in one place?
It’s a research trip! Promise!