10898/War and Peace - Prologue

War and Peace - Prologue
Date of Scene:	27 January 2020
Location:	Bryant Park, Midtown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Ares, Scarlet Witch

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Ares has posed:
Bryant Park has always been a favorite spot for most people of the borough of Manhattan to just kinda sit down, enjoy the day, and most importantly: enjoy the view. The large lawn not so busy as to be almost suffocating, but about the average amount of people are present. Children play tag and other physical activities while older generations kick back on a picnic blanket and have a glass of wine.

But if it was too peaceful, then there wouldn't be balance. Thankfully, War incarnated is here to make that balance. Not to apply violence, but simply to apply his very presence. He wears all black today, a black coat to stave against the cold that rides on the wind, a black longsleeve shirt, some dark-colored cargo pants and combat boots.

This must be Ares, or Mars if you prefer, the God of War as worshipped by the Greeks and the Romans.

He sits on a bench, watching the festivities. He seems to be enjoying the sight of mortals just being....well, mortals.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
For War, peace. But Pax isn't nearly so famous a goddess, or even her Greek counterpart. War has two faces, too, and the feminine is probably off busy plotting to use the Internet to bring back weaving in popularity. Violence can be found in small ways, the battle of Japanese monsters played on cellphones or the quarrel between a pair of irked lovers. The dog gnawing on his rope with growls and thrills, being spun around by his human best friend, they all have their place. It's cold outside, enough to bite into the air. That siege on the senses is hardly welcome.

Wanda comes along from the library, toting a few books in a pretty bag slung over her side. The weight bumps against her hip in a steady staccato beat. Loose hair spills from under her scarf wrapped around her face just once, chic French style, because it's relatively chilly out. Golden skin tells to that.

"Marietta, I don't know when he will be home. I never do, our schedules are just like that." A phone is next to her ear, her tone soft. "He is my brother, and I am not his keeper. Or assistant. Ask Jarvis if you absolutely must know. Yes, I /know/."

The plaintive sigh follows, spilling out. She kills the call and frowns at the screen, tucking it away. Back to the path, which she has departed after a matter of moments. She reorients, gliding back towards the right route and not trudging through snow. Ares is just a face in the crowd at that point, her gaze distant. Tired; that's undeniable.

Ares has posed:
The thing with war is: everybody feeds into it, they just don't know it. Where there is war, there is conflict. Conflict of the heart, for example. Its ironic how people may say that they do not believe in Ares or consider him a work of fiction....when they give him all he needs to endure. It is perhaps why to this day, he is among the strongest of the Olympians, who feed on worship to earn their power. But of course, where Athena is strategy, Ares is the battle itself. He's chaotic war, as it were. He couldn't give a damn how many bullets are in the chamber, as long as he has the gun.

But while Ares enjoys the scenery as it were for all of the above reasons, imagine his surprise when he notices Wanda Maximoff emerge from the Library looking like a proper educated Frenchwoman. He didn't know why, but there was something about Wanda and himself that always seemed to draw them to each other. Call it coincidence or simply of a mind where they are two halves of the same coin. He knows she is a mistress of magic, an epicenter of chaos...and after all, what is war without chaos?

He doesn't eavesdrop on her conversation -- too much -- but he does watch her as she trudges along. He waits until she's close enough, then he speaks. "New books today, Wanda? Or are you simply trying to stave off the desire of sleep?" he offers to her with a smile, his voice deep.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
A heart of chaos, perhaps, though it's not entirely the truth. Wanda just happens to be the heart of reality in this dimension, and where she goes, whatever follows in her path represents that strange collision of possibilities and lives. A fact that flies under the radar of the average person, few of whom even recognize her despite a reasonably public profile of other members of the family.

So no one bothers her under the grey leaden sky. None run up for an autograph or curse the existence of Genosha. They don't call for her to end her involvement with this or that, but if anyone looks for long, it just skims right along. She tucks her hands in her pockets, the bag a weight at her hip threatening to thud in regular, bouncing notes upon her side. Until she halts, called for by Ares.

Any child of the gods can recognize at least a fairly familiar face. "John?" The safe choice. "Always. Today's the best day, when they bring out the new ones." Her sleepy smile, just slightly arced, lifts the higher. "Enjoying the snow, if it threatens to fall?"

Ares has posed:
Perhaps it is in one of those many such possibilites that has allowed Wanda and John to be in the same area at the same time. How intrinsically valuable such chaos is to one who knows how to wield it properly. John dare not try to take it for himself, believing that there is an order to such things, but it was rather interesting to think about.

When he notices that Wanda had heard his call, he smiles and gives a bow of his head. "The very same. I apologize I have not visited for a time, but certain matters called me elsewhere for a long moment." Of course, Ares is the kind of person who believes that a few years is a blink in the life of an Olympian.

"I am. I did not quite expect to enjoy it today, but I do. In Mt. Olympus, it only falls in celebration." He gestures to the seat beside him. "Would you sit with me?"

Scarlet Witch has posed:
"What manner of celebrations would bring about snowfall? I would think that high into the clouds, storms would set it more frequently." Wanda's question has a lightness to it, anticipating being blown as necessity decrees. The lift and slow fall kindle a look of light curiosity in green-gold eyes. She swivels to sit on the bench, giving a margin of space. When it comes down to it, very little is needed for her, even with the bag of books shifted into her lap.

"You have been well? I imagine that sort of business can be rather thrilling." Her gaze shifts, looking out over the grass, to the many people there. "Had you heard that Captain Rogers, Captain Danvers, and Mr. Stark were abducted? Back, for the most part, but not all."

Ares has posed:
"They were the celebrations of Zeus. The weather is his purview, perhaps equal to that of Thor's own, or even greater. He could do what he wished. Typically when a great hero died in battle, we would celebrate the entry of their souls into Elysium." Ares retorts rather kindly, but he watches as she comes to sit down beside him. He turns his full attention to the woman beside him.

"I have been. Its a business that not many enjoy, but it is my purview. My very nature. That is why I am happy that for once, I am fighting for the right things." When he hears about the abductions, he narrows his eyes.

"Abducted by whom?"

Scarlet Witch has posed:
Happy as Wanda is to learn about foreign celebrations and customs, she doesn't interrupt with questions. Ares speaks of his own people and pantheonic arrangements, one she is given a brief glimpse into. After that, it's a brave and challenging walk to understanding from a mortal perspective. They who are doomed to die, after all.

His narrowed eyes turned on her brings another even look; it might suggest why she's so tired. "Curious, that. It was made to look like one interstellar empire. But then they used weapons and admour from two others. Dominion, it's suggested. But I think that is a front. A woman calling herself Mikonia was responsible, but she served another. We went in search of Stark and Rogers; Janet, Jessica, Natasha and I. The Asgardians offered assistance, as much as you can trust a Trickster. Their war goddess, on the other hand, played the part. We found a... I'd call it a pyre. It is no coliseum. The buildings were nearly ruined and the lives spent there immense. A tribute to death without honour, a ravaged wasteland of bloody murder that scorched the sky and made the wind scream, the earth sob. I don't believe they were held there in a charnelhouse, but we have to find them."

Ares has posed:
Regardless of such, it displays Ares's trust in Wanda to share such things with her. It is not information that is easily granted, the world of the Gods is traditionally one of manipulation and distrust, after all.

Regardless, he nods softly to her. "Mikonia? Interesting. Do we know of anything about whom this so called master she serves is/"

He seems pleased though that she has this kind of information that she's sharing with him. "Do we know where the trickster is now? or the War goddees?

Scarlet Witch has posed:
"Loki? He stays nowhere long. Sif? She is likely more resident in the city. I could find her more easily than him, but either is a possibility," Wanda says, her tone less uncertain than thoughtful. "They have reasons for helping us. Their motives are unclear. But I think we are at war. The world simply doesn't know this yet. Masquerading to cause interstellar friction, to use the cover of another flag to earn our wrath? It speaks as such."

She rises from the bench, stifling a yawn. "I desperately need to sleep. Speak with Janet; she can get you up to speed sooner. Or ask Carol; they claimed her but took her elsewhere."