1042/The Last Soldier

The Last Soldier
Date of Scene:	19 June 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Ares, Superwoman

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Ares has posed:
    The Veterans Memorial in Manhattan used to be a small park off of the river, in a plaza between several skyscrapers. It had always been a place of solemnity and introspection with the small touches of living green and the fountain that fills the central area. But when the city council decided to formalize it as a place of reflection in honor of the veterans lost in the vietnam war, most of the residents of the area seemed to agree and felt it most likely always had been there for those who took up arms for their country.
    During the day people will come out and spend some time there, sit down at one of the benches, reflect... Conversations are rare there and when they are held they are with hushed voices. There's no actual rule or binding law that forces those quiet tones from the people there. But it's a strong feeling, the source unknowable.
    Today, John Aaron is there. Usually this part of his day is taken up with Alexander. Picking him up from school, making sure he is fed, well, does his homework. But the Camp of Summer is where he is now, and that has left the tall broad-shouldered man to his own thoughts. And at times those thoughts turn dark, grim... and when such a mood comes upon him he finds himself at a place like here.
    At the moment he is seated upon a bench close to the fountain, his gaze on nothing in particular though he does watch the people who come and go. For the last hour he's been there, and looks unlikely to leave anytime soon.

Superwoman has posed:
    Superwoman didn't typically stop in a number of places during her day. Today, however, seemed to be different- she took a moment, a long moment, to descend from the sky like some kind of Goddess of Justice to fall quietly in this place of reverence. She's silent as she stands before the wall of names, the fallen soldiers.

    Quietly, after a long moment, Faora sits. She sits in silence among the names of the fallen. She speaks quietly to herself, almost reverent- it sounds almost like a prayer.

Ares has posed:
    There's a small ripple of reaction by the handful of men and women who are there in that small memorial. Their eyes go to the angelic figure and her descent from on high. Some may well recognize her, others do not, yet in the city of Manhattan a flying being is not entirely as rare as it one was. Yet with her senses she can hear the heartbeats of them all rise, can hear the rush of blood through them as that fear takes them, even if it's just for a moment at witnessing her divine descent. Two of them move away quickly, but not breaking into a run... still respectful of the place, the moment curiously enough. Others take longer. Yet amongst those human hearts she can hear one that for some reason is not as affected so. His heartbeat continues apace, strong and slow.
    She pays homage to the fallen in her own way, her prayer quiet enough as to be but a murmur of soft susurrus that is barely heard in the garden. But now she has drawn the tall man's attention, his gaze upon her. Her actions cause his brow to furrow faintly. But it is her manner that lends itself to curiousity.
    For she is a soldier herself, that much is easy to tell, at least for him. The way she stood, the way she held herself. There is something martial in the woman, a feeling given that even this God of War is perhaps unable to pinpoint. Yet he watches her now, unrepentant at doing so.

Superwoman has posed:
    Its a long time, a long prayer. Words in a language not of this world- A Kryptonian prayer, perhaps? But not a prayer. Its a number of Oaths. Soldier's Oaths. First, the Oath of a Kryptonian Soldier. Second, the Oath of a Kryptonian Officer. Third, the Oath of the Kryptonian Military. All of it spoken in reverence."

    The people are largely ignored- Superwoman is not known for her kind actions like Superman is. She's... harsher than the boy in blue. At the same time, she's very efficient. She fights like a soldier. She holds herself like a soldier- like a commander. And for now, she's thinking of soldiers- she looks every bit the woman who has ordered men to die, and hated every minute of it.

Ares has posed:
    She is not interrupted, for that respect is due all who visit this place. He does not intrude with voice or presence beyond perhaps the lengthening of one shadow that might be visible to her should she glance to the side. He is respectful of her time, of her focus, allowing her what she needs of herself to reflect and recite. For he is patient, as only the truly timeless can be.
    Yet he is there, hands hooked at the small of his back. At some point having risen and taken those few steps needed to bring him to that place behind and to the side of the woman. Far enough away that the pretense is there of offering privacy, yet still making himself subtly known to her from that glanced shadow...
    Or by that subtle sense of their surroundings old soldiers carry with them.

Superwoman has posed:
    Now more than ever, Faora is aware of her surroundings. She was always aware of it, tactical thinking was part of her to an almost genetic level. Her oaths fall off to silence. She gives it silence- aware of Ares, but not yet giving him any attention. Not until she's finished here.

    And then she's finished, she turns slowly to look Ares' in the eye- shoulders back, "You need something?" She asks of the tall man.

Ares has posed:
    He's a worn and haggard looking man, with grim features. His brown eyes meet hers levelly, then he looks to the memorial, then back to her as one eyebrow lifts slightly. John then turns his head to the side and starts to walk towards the wooden boardwalk upon the river, not too far away but enough to take them away from the memorial and the silence there.
    Should she follow him, he'll lift his voice as soon as they are away from the solemn atmosphere of the place, then he says simply, quietly. "You are the last soldier of your people." A statement, a pronouncement. Then he asks he, quietly. "Yet you offer prayer for the fallen of Earth."

Superwoman has posed:
    Faora is a little curious, and so she follows quietly behind Ares. She keeps a few steps between them- enough space to react should something happen. She's quiet for a long time as Ares speaks.

    "I reaffirm my Oath." Faora states simply, "I do so before the fallen. They are the only ones who can...understand." she offers then, her tone clipped. "They deserve respect. All fallen soldiers deserve respect."

Ares has posed:
    The scent of the saltwater is heavy on the boardwalk, the breeze carrying it by as they walk with a slow measured gait. He pauses there, turning to face her, gaze looking down slightly from their height difference. This man before her is no typical earthling, her senses can assuredly tell her that. His heart still has that steady rhythm, and his stance is the calm assured stance she has seen any time she has looked in a mirror. She can tell that he is a man who has spilled blood, who has fought for the lives of those at his side.
    Yet for some reason she is a curiousity to him, a puzzle to be unwound and not sliced in twain like the Gordian knot. "You seem to carry your regret heavily. When did you set down your arms?" He asks of her such a question, his tone seeming as if he feels he is entitled to an answer.

Superwoman has posed:
    Faora looks quietly over to Ares as they walk. She's silent a long moment. Letting his words fall for a long moment. "I haven't set down my arms." she states simply. "I have never stopped fighting. I fight now as Superwoman." she continues quietly. "The war isn't over. The people involved have changed, that's all." She doesn't speak on the regret.

Ares has posed:
    "Then who... is your enemy, Superwoman?" He stops walking and leans back slightly against the wooden railing of the boardwalk. John folds his arms over his chest and cants his head to the side curiously. His brow knits then, and perhaps he realizes how this is to speak of such to her. At least without giving some small aspect of himself to her in return.
    "My name is John Aaron. And please forgive my presumption. But you seem to carry much with you. It..." His brow furrows, but then he smiles faintly, "It reminds me of how I once felt some time ago."

Superwoman has posed:
    "Criminals." Superwoman states simply. "It helps that the war doesn't end." she notes simply as she looks quietly still at Ares, watching him. Studying him as they walk. "A pleasure, Mr. Aaron." she offers next, "We'll just keep myself as Superwoman for this conversation." she continues, "And yes. I do carry much with me- as you said, I'm the last Soldier of my people. I'm all that's left of a proud, and ancient military lineage."

Superwoman has posed:
Faora pauses a moment, "Explain what you mean- how you felt."

Ares has posed:
    That tall man rubs a thumb against the stubble along the curve of his jaw, his gaze still holding Faora's. "I felt much as you do." He rests his hands upon the wooden beams behind him, palms down as he watches her. "I once was a soldier, and for the longest time the only thing I knew was war. The only thing that I exulted in was victory and personal perfection." He meets her gaze, "I will not coddle it in such gentle terms. Bloodshed. Battle."
    He turns his gaze away, then looks back at her askance with an eyebrow inclined, "But I turned my back on it. Tried to turn away from that life, and focus myself on the here, the now. What was directly in front of me."
    Again he looks her over, but not like a man ogling her, but more as a warrior gauging another. "I chose to lay down my arms. For I was worried that if I continued to fight. Even if it was for the right side... that I would come to embrace the darkness that drove me once again. I admire your strength in being able to. But would also caution you."

Superwoman has posed:
    Faora's eyes narrow, and she looks at Ares carefully, now. There's something off about him. Something unusual. He's certainly not just a man. No- there is something else about him.

    "You can't turn that off." Faora states- a woman who was genetically engineered to be a soldier. Genetically created for that specific purpose- to be a soldier. Some people, as they say, are born a soldier. Faora was created to be a soldier. "I can't turn that off." she says next, "I don't know how to turn it off." she admits, finally. "I don't know that I can."

Ares has posed:
    "I don't think it ever goes away... not entirely." John Aaron meets her eyes, "What you can do is limit your exposure. To keep yourself away from the... temptation." He flares a hand to the side as if disregarding his own words as nonsense. But then he says simply, "Barring that, it can help to speak with another who has passed the same gates you seek to go through."
    As he says that he looks around, as if seeking something. He reaches a hand into his pocket and finds a small receipt, and an eraserless pencil, the type often used on construction sites. He sets the paper on the railing and scribbles something on it, then offers it to her.
    "If matters take a turn for the ill, then contact me." He pockets the pencil and then adds, "If you never need to, then just as well."

Superwoman has posed:
    Faora takes the piece of paper from Ares. She looks at it quietly. That's all it takes, she's memorized it now. "Thank you." she offers simply, as she puts the paper in a pocket- who knew that outfit had pickets. "I'll keep it in mind." she states simply. "I, of course, will take it under advisement."

    Superwoman looks up at that. She looks over to Ares. "There is trouble." She states simply. "I am needed. Is there anything else?"

Ares has posed:
    The tall man merely shakes his head and gestures a hint of a wave to her, "Til another time."