11809/Uninvited Guests

Uninvited Guests
Date of Scene:	21 July 2020
Location:	Alexander's Apartment, Greenwich, New York City
Synopsis:	Father and son chat about the future for the young godling
Cast of Characters:	Phobos, Ares

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Phobos has posed:
    It is only lately that the apartment in Greenwich has taken on some hint of the one that lives thee. For the longest time it had been Spartan and austere, with furnishings assuredly but few things to actually lend some insight into the man who called it home. There was the kitchen with its well-kept green and chrome utilities, the granite counter tops black and white and obviously well cared for. Most likely a cleaning service.
    Then there's the living room which has an entertainment center that has what is expected in this day and age with a large screen and speakers in prominence but the hint of its lack of use lies there in some of the plastic stripping still being in place on parts of those pieces of electronics.
    But now there are small hints. Aspects of the young man that show. In the small set of weapons that hang upon the wall. A curved axe from seventeen hundred years ago and bronze. A pair of long knives that look as if they could use a cleaning as there is still copper and decay darkening their blades. As well as a single sword that hangs above them all, which seems from the middle East considering the wicked curve to it. Things that all contain stories, and it is through those stories that we build the world around us.
    Stories such as the loose backpack that had been dropped near the sliding door that leads out onto what passes for a balcony. Several stencils are stitched on that bag primarily with an ESU logo upon it and the image of a leering skull that might have its origin in music somewhere. Yet the last thing that might draw attention, is the small piece of glassware that lies settled upon the coffee table. Just a clear sphere with a single piece of paper folded within which looks like a pamphlet for something called the Cirque Sensationnel.
    All things easily seen if one were to enter the apartment with the youth not there. For it is only now that he is returning, with the jangle of keys heard at the door.

Ares has posed:
It is a fine apartment. It's not as tiny as many would be in the city and certainly well above the means of a typical college student. Thankfully, their family has a few secrets and are not truly hurting for money. Thus, this was provided for the boy to have while he attended college. Certainly he was paying for it. Yet, it was in the name of his father. A father who happened to have a key because that is the way he was.

John Aaron had worked hard to provide this life for his son. Not physically, though working in construction fit that criteria. It was more mentally and emotionally. He had come a long way from the man, or being, he once was. Grown. Matured. Though his family might not believe it, even now after the help he had provided them in their last crisis. His back was turned on them once more after what they did to endanger his son, the one being he really cared about in a truly meaningful way.

He was sprawled on the couch, the tv already on to a sports channel which was sharing a strong man competition. There was an amused smile on John's lips as he watched. One leg was crossed over the other, his arms outstretched across the back of the couch, filling much of the space.

Phobos has posed:
    And into the room came the boy, flitting through mail and hearing the television on. But only looking up as he taps the envelopes together and leaves them there on the small table near the door which also has a jar for his keys. They're deposited there as he steps out and his lip twists up a little.
    "Oh hey dad, sure thing, come on over. Make yourself at home." He's heard to say as he walks across the room, strolling to that archway leading into the kitchen. There's the sound of the refrigerator opening and the whirrring hum of the motor as he grabs out of it a bottle. The another as he calls out, "Did you want something to drink?" A beer is already chosen, since he half-expects that already. Then he walks into the room, one of the beers tucked under his arm and the other being opened with a twist of his hand, causing the non-twistcap to twist off anyways.
    "The heck are you watching?"

Ares has posed:
At the sound of the keys, John turned his head to focus on the doorway. He watched as his son entered. His adult son. It was still something striking for him. He'd lost a few years of Alexander's life. Sometimes, he was still the ten year old boy in the mind of his father. Truth be known, that was normal for most parents. The could still see the baby in the adult. But after their forced separation, they spent a few years together in the alternate plane, so that they could get used to each other again. There had been many growing pains during that time yet they had come through it stronger. At least, in his mind.

Alexander might not agree.

"A beer. And not one of those lacking body or taste." If the boy serves him a light or American beer, John might have a tantrum. He brings an arm down from the back of the chair, motioning with his hand at the screen. "A strong man competition." The tone showed that he found the very concept of those on screen being strong men amusing. But he gave a half shrug. "Yet for what they are, they are doing well. I don't believe any would have enough stamina to last an hour in battle."

He turns to focus on Alexander, reaching up a hand to accept the offered beer. "How do you fare here? How is school?"

Phobos has posed:
    It had been a year. A year and... several months since they made the return. And matters had been much more awkward then considering the circumstances of their parting, and then their reunion. Much had changed. And much remained unspoken. Matters that neither of them brought up, and when the possibility reared its ugly head they both would quickly retreat from the sentiment.
    But they took solace in some things that others might find surprising. The normalcy. The mundane. The embrace of these... attempts at mortality. Though it took some doing and a fair amount of favors and paperwork, Alexander was able to have his records altered. To attend school. To be a sophomore at college now despite how his original birth certificate would have him as... a good bit younger.
    But all of that is neither here nor there. And there is refuge in the mundane indeed. "Here, it's Bud Light."
    He offers that answer just to see the abrupt instant of a glower before his smile slips a little wry and he hands the Sam Adams Stout to him. "Or whatever, I don't keep track." He then looks at the screen and then drops into one of over-stuffed chairs, though not on the couch beside his father. "School was school." An answer commonly given in reply, causing a slight smirk for the non-answer that it is.

Ares has posed:
Glower indeed. For a moment, the storm clouds are there on the face of his father. Brow furrowed, eyes narrowing, the pressing of his lips together with enough force to whiten them around the edges. It is like offering a juicy steak to a strict vegan is the annoyance reflected there.

When handed a more appropriate beverage, the expression lightens and John has to laugh a bit, shaking his head. "Better." He doesn't say thank you. Perhaps he should but that isn't really his way. He takes the beer. A big swig taken then he glances back over to his son, instead of at the tv.

"That is not an answer." A response he often gets back to the flippant answer he gives. "You are fitting in? Making friends?" Even gods worry about their kids making friends at school! He glanced to the paper in the bowl then back to Alexander. "Going to events together?"

Phobos has posed:
    Crinkling his nose, it's curious how Alexander is around his father. So often when out in the world he has this eerie manner, this distance to him. But before the man that raised him he might seem in those times the most... /human/ version of himself. Shared memories and learned behaviours might well be the reason for it, or perhaps something else entirely.
    "I'm still getting used to some things, but yeah." The blond youth smiles a little wryly, "I get along with people. I have some friends. I was vaguely thinking of getting a roommate." But that might not be wise considering who and what they are.
    Then a glance to the pamphlet and he shrugs a little. "Was thinking of going to Gotham for this show, there was this girl that wanted to go but..." His lip twists a little, clearly not staggeringly into this girl, "I don't have a strong reason to tell her no. But then again..." He lets the words trail off.

Ares has posed:
"Is she comely? If so, go and be sure to enjoy your time. You do not have to see her again after, if you do not wish it." John obviously doesn't mean the show. Or hanging out. He's speaking in a--excuse the term--biblical sense. It's honestly that simple in his mind. There have been a few women he has cared about in the past but often enough, it is just an arrangement for mutual enjoyment. Both parties get what they want out of it then go their ways.

He takes another swig of his beer then sets the bottle on the table beside him. Back to focusing on Alexander again as he mulls over the other thing he mentioned. "A roommate is possible but yes, problematic. They are in danger simply for being around us but we also need to live. You would have to hide so much. Like your morning regimens. Which I am certain you continue to do." A pointed pause there while staring at the boy.

"Are you needing help making ends meet?" Not offering to help but concerned that might be the reason. It could simply be he wants someone to talk to.

Phobos has posed:
    A small snort comes from him as Alexander shakes his head and sort of looks away, still holding his beer in both hands and not having tasted it yet. His eyebrows lift as he looks to the heavens as if for All-Father Zeus to offer him strength, but then he looks back to his own actual father and murmurs, "She's cute enough, yeah. But I have to socialize with her and her friends so probably not a good idea to bed her and then dump her if I want to have lab partners in the future. Right?"
    See, practicality wins the day.
    But then he looks toward the television and crinkles his nose at the further words given by the old man. "I know, the whole Fate thing. Best to keep people around the edge of things or Clotho might be a jerk." Ever since something was done to her needle, he never did find out.
    A breath is taken as he smirks, "Yes, I do. And I still sometimes look in on the instructors you told me to. I like meeting people there, finding new and interesting people to fight. But it's hard to find someone that can keep up with what we can do."
    Only then does he finally take a sip of his beer and then shakes his head in answer to the final question. But likely his dad didn't see that so he murmurs, "The trust fund is pretty good. I dunno. Maybe I should get a vehicle down the line but I don't really need one yet."

Ares has posed:
"You know driving in this city is a nightmare. Easier to use public transportation. Or walk. Most things are not that far." A glance to the pamphlet again and a twisting of his lips into a smirk. "Most, not all." As for the mention of the girl? Already moved on. The boy will do what he wants. He will learn for himself the art of being able to part in a manner that retains friendships. Sometimes. It is something that came with age. A lot of age.

"There are quite a few in this town that could help with your training. You already have learned from the best," John says, modest to the end. "But some have surprised me." That's saying something for a god of war who has lived thousands of years. "Just beware because some of them are skilled but not trustworthy. Lady Shiva is in that category. I would prefer you avoid her for now, if possible. Her associate Richard Dragon is a skilled fighter. Another named Shang-Chi. Both of them tend to wander the globe but if you get word they are near, perhaps seek them out."

Phobos has posed:
    Lip twisting a little, Alexander watches the display of Caber Tossing on the television as some of the strongest men in that competition try to toss a rather impressive looking log. But the youth chats easily enough as he lets his eyes remain on the tv. "I was uh, actually thinking of a motorcycle." Since /of course/ he wants one of those. And perhaps not a good idea, though he wouldn't die from it. But chances are it wouldn't last for long.
    Then his elder mentions some of the others he should seek out and he finally glances over, "I understand." He says quietly, no casual sass given about his training, as if those interactions come with a different set of social rules to them.
    Then at the request for him to seek them out he nods again. "If that is to be my focus maybe I should spend more time in Gotham since it seems strong martial artists congregate there at times."

Ares has posed:
At mention of the choice of transportation, John opens his mouth with an immediately negative response. Then he snaps it back shut with an audible click of his teeth. His lips are pressed tight as he tries to work through before speaking.

He is a parent. Of course he doesn't want his boy out there on a motorcycle getting run over by idiots. He wants to keep him safe. Which is very at odds with what some might think considering how he raised his son. Fighting, battle, weapons. He didn't raise him like a normal child might be. Yet, the idea of his son out there with tons of vehicles using him as a target that they might get a prize for hitting horrified him.

And honestly, it wasn't like Alexander was that easy to hurt either. He probably could walk away from a motorcycle accident without a scratch. The vehicle that hit him would fare far worse.

Yet, that instinct is there. Finally, John lets himself speak. "You're a man now and can make your own choices. Just consider the merits of a nice Humvee before making a final decision. The military level one."

Then he glances at the tv himself before addressing the other question on the table. "Gotham is a good place to train. If you elect to go there, just be sure you continue college. That is the one thing I am putting my foot down on."

Phobos has posed:
    Though the man is watching the screen, Ares might catch the certain rolling of Alexander's eyes in the reflection of the television as he looks up and away. But he doesn't disagree for the most part, instead he murmurs. "Well, you might be right." He toys with the label on his beer, pulling off a strip of it.
    "Maybe I shouldn't get a motorcycle." He offers that. Then his lip twists but he hides it as he adds. "Maybe I should get one of those little vespas. Or a ten speed?" Since yeah Ares would like those better.
    But then he looks sidelong at the man and says, "I can train in Gotham and keep going to ESU. It's just... like a thirty minute train ride." Since the train is a thing though it's doubtful Ares actually uses such a thing. Or knows how to.
    "I like ESU. They have a cool mascot." Even as he glances over at his discarded backpack and that eagle that's there.
    "So is this just a social call? Here to drink all my beer and watch my television? Or something on your mind?"

Ares has posed:
At the thought of a vespa, John frowns again. "Get a motorcycle before one of those. At least you'll have the speed to perhaps dodge the collision," he mutters before turning back to look at his son again.

At mention of the mascot, he looks to the bag then back over to Alexander. "Drink all your beer. I have only had one. I must work harder on this."

Then that sort of shrug as he picks up the beverage in question, tilting it up and finishing it off. He puts the empty back down with a little clink as it hits the hard table. "Social call. Wanted to be sure you were doing well. I do not like this texting thing you insist on using." That's about as touchy feely as the god is likely to be getting. He was worried about his baby boy being off in the big world. Or maybe he was just getting a bit of empty nest syndrome. He would never admit that.

Phobos has posed:
    A snort is given as he's told to drink his beer and he says, "You know as well as I do that beer does nothing for me." Though sometimes the taste isn't entirely horrible. But there's no buzz, no altered state that comes along with it. But even though he makes that mild protest he tilts his beer back and continues to drink. But obstinately holds off on finishing it for now.
    "Texting isn't so bad." And, to be entirely fair, he doesn't care to use it much either. His own phone is filled with people and numbers and messages, but very few outgoing. Except, perhaps, to his father to get his goat a little.
    "But I'm doing fine. Doing..." His eyes roam the room and for a moment his gaze distances, then he murmurs lightly. "Well enough. I've just been thinking. Is all."
    He'll likely wait for some sign from his father that he should continue, even if it's just a glance. And when he receives something that he can interpret as such he adds, "What I should be doing after I finish college."

Ares has posed:
The questioning pause is acknowledged with a nod of the head, a permission granted to continue. Admittedly, John had been a little unsure since there are a lot of things they avoid. It it was one of those that occupied the mind of his son, was he really ready to have it brought up?

When the question was something more mundane, he mentally relaxed that tiny bit. "Whatever you want to be doing. You have choices, things that I didn't have at your age." Was he ever Alexander's age? "You can choose to take your place amongst your family." Oh that one hurt. He got the words out, didn't choke on them or snarl like an animal at the word 'family'. He was going to let Alexander make his own choices. If that choice was to return to Olympus, Ares would beat the hell out of him then allow his son to go do as he wished.

"Or you can choose a career and live here. Could be a doctor or lawyer. Join me in construction, which really would be a waste of your education but it is a choice you can make. Anything really. What is the phrase? The world is your oyster." He frowns. "I never understood that phrase. It makes no sense. Oysters are disgusting."

Phobos has posed:
    It might please him to hear Alex's reply about his family is simply a low snort of derision. But then he looks over and waits before he hrms to himself.
    A deeply drawn breath is taken, and then a slooow exhalation of it as Alexander continues to pick at the side of Sam Adams' face, just pulling and tearing at the label thoughtfully as he watches a group of five men running down the track each carrying a gigantic keg of... something.
    "That's the thing, sir." That old reflex to speak to him in such a way. "I have no idea what I want to do. Or if I should do anything. I mean, I have no intention of... you know. Going back." To Olympus.
    He looks back at the television and frowns when one of the men falls and scrambles to try and recover. "I'm sort of torn between doing something... normal. Or trying to do something that's not. And if I should. And if I even want to."

Ares has posed:
"You have time."

That is likely the understatement of the century. "Others are limited to a single mortal lifetime. You have centuries ahead of you. While that might seem daunting on one level, it can be liberating on another. You will have the chance to try all of that, if you wish."

John considers how best to say this. "If you decide to live normal, as I have tried, you can do so. If it bores you, change. If you prefer to try something else, then you can do that and again, change if it does not hold your interest."

He rises to his feet, motioning to the beer Alexander is peeling the label off, in question of if he wants another. Once he has that response, he heads for the kitchen to grab another beer for himself and one for Alexander, should he have wanted it.

Once back, he settles back on the couch which manages not to groan under his weight. They had planned ahead when choosing furnishings. Everything was built for Olympian physiques. "Is there something specific in the 'not normal' you are considering?"

Phobos has posed:
    A lift of one hand waves off the offer as Ares heads to the kitchen. So Alexander makes a small face though more to himself than to anything or anyone. He chews for a time on his bottom lip then says, "I have had this thing bouncing around in my head for a time. And I know you will think it's nonsense. And I also know it probably is, and will just take me time to get over it."
    Uh oh, this might seem like it could possibly come close to one of those uncomfortable topics.
    But then Alexander turns in his chair to watch as his father wanders into the kitchen while the commercials are on the television. Some local ambulance chaser telling them both that they need to get the money they deserve.
    "But the thing I most like to do, is the training. Meeting the people who fight, hearing their philosophy. Finding out about their journey. Just all of those things." He seems to get a little more animated as he explains. "Thing is, and this is the part you'll probably think is foolish. But... with how..."
    He stops and his brow knits as he settles back down in his seat. "With what has passed. It is hard for me to judge how much of... my skill. My talent. Is really me. The me that exists behind my eyes. The me that I've been aware of. And how much of it is just..."
    He uncurls a hand and waves it to the side, "How much of it is circumstance. My blood. The magic that comes to me for being who I am. I had some pride when... you know before everything. Since I felt it was myself." Back when he was what... ten?
    "But now that I'm Phobos." His lip twists up a little, "It seems...like cheating to try and compete with other people who don't have this benefit. Right?"

Ares has posed:
John is a little surprised at the question. His brows rise then furrow back down, the wrinkles there showing his consternation. He takes the time to open his beer and take a long swig, setting it down by the empty after then focusing on Alexander.

"Boy, that is one of the stupidest things you have ever said."

He shakes his head negatively. "Your skill as a fighter has nothing to do with your bloodline. Aphrodite and Hermes are gods but you don't see them doing what we do. We worked hard, you and I. Trained. I taught you from the moment you could stand. You had much of your skill long before what happened last year." Technically a few years for them but in this world's time, it was shorter. "That time just grew you to your maturity earlier. You still didn't learn the fighting skills because of what you are but because you focused, worked, gained the knowledge. Yes, your powers are one thing. Genetic. But even the strongest of beings can be toppled by the smallest, in the right circumstances. You will learn as you are exposed to more that there are humans who could kill us, should they choose. Even those who can best us physically in battle, despite all our powers."

He picks up his beer again, about to take a swig but ends up motioning with it as he has a thought to point toward his son. "It isn't cheating to compete. It is human nature."

Phobos has posed:
    For a moment it seems like Alexander's eyes might roll right out of his head as his shoulders scrunch up a little and that small shiver of annoyance just overtakes him. He /sighs/ at Ares but then murmurs, "I'm just..."
    Alex crinkles his nose as he looks down at his empty beer and makes a face, but doesn't seem inclined to ask for another. "There are times I can tell when I would have lost perhaps, when my technique is very good, but if I didn't heal so quickly or I wasn't just... that much faster."
    But then he cuts himself off and doesn't complete the thought and instead just says, "You know what, you're right. Dunno what I was thinking." He slouches a little further into his seat and props up a foot on the edge of the coffee table. Ready to let the rest of the night pass in silence for now. No he's not pouting, you are!

Ares has posed:
"You haven't met the right opponents yet to teach you that your powers are only helpful against those less skilled. Maybe I should introduce you to Shiva," John mutters a bit himself. Then a shake of the head. "No, she'd just kill you when you started acting this way and then I'd have to kill her. Such a waste." If the waste was the loss of Shiva, Alexander or both isn't really clear in that statement.

No doubt in his mind that Shiva likely could take his son, yet he has utter faith in his son's abilities. Might be a hint to the boy that there are even those the god of war respects out there.

"I think you feel that you cannot be beaten because you have powers. That is what it sounds like. The most able of their kind can win. Even against a god. However, if you are wanting to learn a way to suppress yourself more, so that you can be more...fair." He makes a face. It's much like a child tasting a lemon for the first time. "Then I can teach you some techniques. They will allow you to fight more as a human and less as an Olympian. There are also objects that can be obtained which would allow for it on a greater scale, making you rely on skill alone and suppressing your gifts."

Phobos has posed:
    "Don't presume I think something I haven't uttered." Alexander says, a little sharply, but firmly. Then, belatedly he adds, "Sir." As if it excused the sharpness of his tone. But then he takes a deep breath.
    "I know I can be defeated even with my powers. It is more..."
    Alexander rubs the back of his neck thoughtfully and murmurs, "More just that I see some of the things some of them put themselves through to hone their craft. And the journey they take, and yes our journey so far has been... challenging. But I feel admiration for them."
    His hand lifts and he waves it to the side, "I'm still trying to figure out my own feelings." There's a pause then and out of curiousity he then asks quietly, with a wry smile as he murmurs, "Though I did have a question."
    And when he perhaps receives a glance to signal he should ask it he murmurs, "Is Lady Shiva cute?"

Ares has posed:
The sir doesn't excuse it at all. John is about to jump on things, give a verbal response that he likely would regret so it is good that Alexander continued to his next question. John gave a nod to allow for it, biting his lip to keep from barking out everything in his head.

That question was not expected.

It threw him off his game completely as he burst out laughing. Loud boisterous bursts of amusement from deep in his gut. "Boy, you ever use that word in her presence and she would rip your still beating heart out of your chest."

Then he grins, unable to stop himself. "She is beautiful. Not simply physically, though she is lovely to look upon. She has honed herself, become such a weapon of power and destruction. She seeks more, to be perfection in combat. In my mind, she is no longer human. She has become a force of nature itself and people can only tremble in her presence, hoping she will not notice them as she moves through her life."

He shrugs a little, then grins. "Deftly handled so I wouldn't yell at you. You've learned well."

Phobos has posed:
    "Mmm," Is all he says at first in answer, but his smile says all that's needed. He tilts his head to the side, and there's still curiousity there. It's rare to hear his father speak affectionately about someone and then he lets his smile grow a little, albeit a little softer.
    "You sound like you liked her." He says then straightens in his chair a little to tilt his head to the side and be able to look at his father more directly. "Did you... were you guys, you know. Close?" He asks with that cock of curiousity to his eyebrows. Since really on some level he feels like if his father likes someone, that is a well and truly rare thing.
    Then his lip twists, "I ask only in case I meet her so I can show her the due deference needed." Sure that's why he's asking.

Ares has posed:
There is a rumble of noise from John as he ponders if he wants to answer that or not. He usually kept relationships out of things. Rarely brought anyone home, back when Alexander was a boy. Shiva had never been one of those. He knew better.

"You should show her respect if you ever meet her. She will demand no less."

Then he continues, giving more information than he might have in the past. "I admired her. As you have found yourself admiring those who work to become more, that was my reaction to her upon our first meeting." He considers the words, picking up his beer and rolling it lightly in his fingers as he tries to express this correctly.

"We were close. Enjoyed each other's company from time to time. Perhaps friends is a term that could be used but it isn't really right either. We had a mutual admiration for skills we both possessed. We would meet and fight. That was our draw. The danger. The darkness. The pain. Sometimes we would share more. Then we would part. We both knew there would never be more than that. It was not her nature."

Phobos has posed:
    For a time Alexander just /looks/ at Ares. Just sits there turned on the side of the chair, resting both arms on the arm of it, and watching his father with these narrowed hazel eyes that look so akin to a particular meme from Futurama that his father wouldn't understand at all. But that doesn't change his expression. He just sits there and staaaares for a time, as if trying to wiggle out the truth of what little is offered there.
    But then he sniffs once slightly and settles back into his chair as he says simply. "Alright."
    And with that he looks back at the television as a large nordic man lifts a set of heavy rocks piled into his arms and /roars/ silently since the television is mostly muted. It's another minute. Perhaps two. Before he gives voice to a few more words.
    "I bet she was lousy in bed." And as he says this he ducks back and to the side slightly, expecting the outburst he is sure that is to come.

Ares has posed:
The stare is met without flinching. Though John does take the time to take a swig of his beer. Still keeping his eyes on his boy. Let him read whatever he wanted into that. Or be freaked out cause Dad talked!

When Alex looked away, John did the same. A glance at the tv and a frown at the antics there. When the words came his way, he might get something unexpected.

"She was horrible. Had no skills at all. It is why I preferred the fighting." Of course, he's lying. Because after all, he doesn't want his boy trying to follow in his footsteps if he thought otherwise!

Phobos has posed:
    A small snort is given, but Alexander keeps watching the television. And after a moment... two, his face twists up into the classic yuck face that one might well see whenever one might be caught thinking of something well and truly gross. He takes the last little bit of his beer in a sip as he murmurs to himself.
    "Blah."