1112/Intergalactic Peace Negotiations

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Intergalactic Peace Negotiations
Date of Scene: 23 June 2017
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: 194, Ares




Bel Canto (194) has posed:
She took the advice and gift almost literally.

Sitting on a public bench under a street light, the rays of dawn just barely tinting the horizon, a young woman waits, seated under the fullness of its beam. The city is quiet just before the dawn, the humming of the light and the rustle of a light breeze between buildings offsetting the fluttering of moths beating themselves against the surface of the light.

She waits, hands folded in her lap, sabatons lightly gleaming under the edges of her bodice and petticoat. Over this, the fullness over her armor, and over this... the oversized flannel shirt she'd been gifted with.

Shhh. She's blending in.

Ares has posed:
    The young being of such music is easy to spot despite such efforts to the subtle having been made. Oh she may stick out or draw a second glance from those passing by, those very few people at this time of hour. Yet it is, indeed, a more low key appearance that she makes than before when John Aaron espied her striding towards him with such purpose in that immaculate armor.
    The designated hour passed, the clock in that small park area giving a faint musical chime tolling the hour with soft bells that barely intrude into the reverie of the park. It was going to be a warm day and the faint brush of a warm breeze grants just a small teaser to that heat. Another few minutes would pass, but then should she shift her gaze towards where they walked from before she will see him.
    He is much as he was that other day, dressed down with little of the warrior to him beyond his bearing and his gaze. Brown work boots, blue jeans, a black t-shirt... and a /new/ jacket of brown leather adorns him. His stride is calm and even, and then when he catches sight of her he'll offer distant greeting at first with a nod. Then once closer he'll grant words, "Bel Canto," His smile is there, in his eyes if barely upon his lips. "You look... well."

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
She looks up at 'John' and smiles politely in greeting, rising to meet him. "My thanks. You look equally well." Polite formalities are all the rage in noble circles.

"I've returned as requested. I hope my previous interruption was not troublesome to you," she offers simply.

Ares has posed:
    "Not at all," The tall man murmurs as he gestures her back to her seat and then takes up one catty corner to hers. He leans forwards, dark brown eyes meeting her gaze as he smiles a bit. "I see you are making use of the gift. Perhaps you will be able to acquire the aid of a tailor and have them grant you further garb to aid your integration into this society."
    He tilts his head as he considers her ensemble, but then he meets her eyes levelly. "I have given some thought to your situation and have an individual that would wish to help you get your message passed along. She is prominent in the intelligence community and will be able to grant your message the urgency it requites."
    As he speaks he unzips his own jacket and from within draws forth a small wood stained box and extends it towards her. "This is the artifact as agreed, I have the name of a dealer who has wished to purchase it for some time. Sell it on the behalf of you and your people and you should have enough funds to see to your needs."

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
Having sat and listened to John, Bel looks at the item drawn from inside the jacket. Her brows furrow in a look of concern as her eyes fall on that box. "I'm not certain I can accept this. It is not your duty or responsibility to aid me." She looks back up at him. "Should you not use this to the benefit of your own family and people? Harmonia has more than enough, and it was my own foolhardiness that put me in the position I am in now."

Ares has posed:
    "Bel Canto," John tilts his head towards her and meets her gaze levelly. His features are calm, controlled, but should she look deep enough she might see the hint of something primal that is held at bay. But for now simply looks to her and says in that deep baritone of his, "Myself and mine are in a sufficient place. It is but myself and my son, in truth. And we have enough to insure we live well for a good long time."
    He presents the box to her, holding it with one hand on each end, "Consider this an investment with your people. Perhaps in times to come you and yours will take up a place of prominence and allies with this world's people. And even if not then, perhaps you will look on me fondly remembering the aid that was given."
    Should she take it in hand he'll withdraw his own to leave her holding it, "To me this is an object of beauty that I would look on from time to time. For you it may well be the key to your success. It fulfills and honors its maker by being put to such use in your hands."

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
She considers these words carefully, and her expression softens. "Very well then. I receive it with the spirit in which it was given, and I will strive to make the best possible use of it I can. Harmonia will remember your generosity and support, on this, I swear." She takes the box, and looking for a latch, opens it.

Ares has posed:
    There's just a small brass latch on the front that has no lock for the moment, it flips up easily. Should she open it further she'll see a small dagger with some damage to the sheathe and looking rather roughly forged, the hammer blows visible on the sides of the metal. It's old, a few thousand years assuredly and it has only a single gem in the pommel that is a faint red. At a glance it does not look like a usable or strong blade, but the dealer whose name and information is on a small slip of paper inside, well they would care for it.
    "The man who wishes to purchase this weapon knows you are to be my agent in this regard and so knows he shall be accountable to me. You need not fear that you will have to negotiate. The matter is already settled."
    Then he nods, "Now tell me what has passed since we spoke."

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
She runs her fingers gently over the dagger, sheath to hilt. "This blade has a song," she says quietly, respectfully, over the aged weapon. "It has seen many of this world's days. Times of joy, times of sorrow. I would almost sing to it, to bring it back to its former glory, but then, of what worth would it be to a dealer of antiques? Such is the choice we sometimes make, to stay our hand in respect to the sacrifices of others, rather than to blithely attempt to do what we think is good."

She's thoughtful and quiet as she pauses, paying silent homage to the weapon - almost prayerfully so - magenta eyes held to it and its enclosure. "Nothing has passed," she answers. "I've spent time immersed in resonance to sustain me, singing to creation for life. I had thought that the trouble on this little world would be quickly ascertained, quickly met. I was wrong. As such, I am having to reconsider my efforts."

Ares has posed:
    For a time John simply watches her in silence as she holds the old blade in her hand. In some ways he can empathize with her feelings over such, for there have been times he has felt that a blade would rather be used to spill blood one last time even if it would not survive the battle... rather than be retired away.
    But then he shakes his head and returns to the here and now, listening to her and giving a small nod. "The individual I would have you speak with is a Natalia Romanova," He reaches into his front jacket pocket and withdraws a card with SHIELD clearly depicted on the front and her information on the back. "She is an individual of some prominence and has agreed to aid you in you efforts. At the least she will make it that those who need to hear of your message shall do so."
    A small smile touches the corner of his mouth, "Beyond that, Bel Canto, I do not know what further efforts I can make on your behalf."

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
She takes the card, turning it over, looking at the inscribed insignia, the name, the cardstock itself, before placing it into the front pocket of the gifted jacket. "If you would humor me, I have questions to ask about this world, that time has not permitted me to enquire of others."

She looks back up at him. "Does this world know war?"

Ares has posed:
    At her question, John eyes her sidelong. She can see the faint hint of consternation touch his brow as he looks aside. His gaze distances a touch as he lifts a finger to scritch at the stubble along his chin. But with a furrowed gaze he looks to her and says quietly, "You do not ask an easy question, Bel Canto."
    Leaning forwards and resting his elbows upon his knees, he contemplates the toe of his boot, then tells her. "Does this world know war? Yes, Bel Canto. It is... a focal point of war. It has known war as long as it has had one ape able to lift a rock against its brother ape."
    He looks to her and tries to convey the depth of his thoughts by relating to her, "Amongst the worlds we have known, it has been said that the people of Earth are some of the most warlike that have existed. At war with themselves, their neighbors, and at times with the other species that have come upon us. There have been wars for land, for technology, for resources. There has been war because of genetic differences so terribly small it would confound you to understand why."
    Eventually he looks away. "Before I turned my back on such conflict... I played a prominent role in... conflict."

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
    "I asked not to condemn you, but to understand if Earth and Harmonia suffered the same tragedy," the small woman says. "If you had your hand in conflict here - if Earth is truly as threatened and disharmonius as you say - then I find no fault in you, John. You have done as this people and planet have needed you to do."
    "... Earth, then was not taken off-guard as we were."
    Bel looks over to the horizon, as the light slowly grows, the sky turns purples, reds, pinks. "Until my great-grandsire's generation, Harmonia had never known war or conflict of any kind. We were uniform, unified, under one king, under one government, with one song and one law. Resources were plentiful. We by nature lived to provide for one another rather than ourselves, and as such, we usually found a way make all needs be met. Even in matters of winning mates, we selected according to best matches of family and spirit," Bel Canto explains. "And so it was that, when war came to us, we could not comprehend it."
    "My people once numbered in hundreds of billions. When the invaders came, they reduced us to a tithe of what we once were. They ate our children before the eyes of their parents. They crushed us to dust, and we had nothing but farm implements and cooking tools to defend with."

Ares has posed:
    As Bel speaks, Ares watches her with those grim eyes. His countenance is held in check, barely a few hints escaping him as she speaks and he gives a slow nod as she relates the trials her people faced. When she reaches near the end of her words he straightens slightly, hands resting on his knees as he watches each subtle shift of her expression as she offers her tale before him.
    "How did your people survive, Bel Canto?" He asks lifting his chin slightly as he adds, "How is it you are able to come before me?"

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
    "We were forced to turn our greatest gifts - the generation of resonance - from implements of healing and peace, into implements of war. In desperation, the mastersingers among us combined three harmonies into the Song of Uncreation."
    "In that moment, when the harmony spread through the atmosphere, the invaders - a race we did not even know the name of - ceased to be. We sang to the multiverse and undid their very existence."

Ares has posed:
    "Ah," John looks to her and nods, "You and yours did what had to be done then. Defended your existence and ended theirs. The right of all beings." He gains his feet and offers her his hand should she wish to rise as well even as he meets her gaze. "I regret your people suffered so, but it speaks well that they had the strength to endure."
    His brow furrows, "And it speaks well of you that you wish to come to us and insure we do not suffer a similar fate. Come, Bel Canto. Walk with me if you would, and you will tell me at length of your people and what has passed. You will find that those of Earth, once taking your message, will be strong enough to resist in no small thanks to yourself."

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
    Bel takes the offered hand, standing, the other hand still holding onto the box, now closed. "The thought has cross my mind that I am to do penance here for the sins of my people of using resonance in the way that we did. If that is the case, so be it."
    "This tiny, chaotic, fractuous, conflict-mad world... I cannot think of a better place to begin our recompense."