12255/When Old Soldiers Meet

When Old Soldiers Meet
Date of Scene:	28 September 2020
Location:	Upper West Side, Manhattan
Synopsis:	Cap learns his old friend from the past is still around, then learns who that friend really was.
Cast of Characters:	Captain America, Ares

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Captain America has posed:
    Some of the Avengers can get out and about incognito better than others. Get Stark out on the streets and his own natural self sort of draws attention to him. Get Thor out there and he soaks up the adoration unconsciously and draws the eye even when in 'disguise'. Get Banner running around and he draws looks just because he's so jittery. But Cap? He can, with the proper focus, actually pass for a civilian for a good bit of time. So long as he has his baseball cap and his glasses on. Everyone knows Captain America doesn't wear glasses. Can't be him.
    Though sometimes he does draw a second glance or so but for unrelated reasons.
    Yet today, a few blocks from the mansion and settled at an open-air table out on the sidewalk, Steve Rogers is taking some me-time. And it's doubtful with his work schedule anyone would fault him. So he sips his morning orange juice and watches the world pass him by for once.
    It's a nice feeling.

Ares has posed:
John Aaron had been out and about, working on some errands. He was one who tended to draw the eye. Not for any reason other than he was much taller and larger of frame than many people on the streets. Or perhaps there was just something there which drew the eye. And for those who had practiced the art of war? Perhaps an edge, an aura, that showed he understood such things. It was something soldiers often recognized upon first meeting one of their kind.

He paused to glance at the restaurant, considering whether he was actually hungry or not. A grumble at his stomach answered that. He moved to enter and paused as something drew his eye to the unassuming figure at the nearby table. A narrowing of his eyes as he considered then it came to him.

There was a smile on his face as he approached the table. "It has been quite some time," he said in that deep rumble of a voice. "You look just as I remember you."

Captain America has posed:
    Someone made him? Already? But then Cap looks up... and up to the tall man with the broad shoulders and the stern visage that has a rare smile upon it. His eyebrows raise and he shifts the small notepad he had on his knee, then the pencil he'd been scribbling with down beside it. Puzzlement marred his features as he looked on the man and then said, "Antonio?"
    The name he perhaps remembered him by. "Antonio Vargas?" One of the resistance fighters in...
    "Greece?" He sort of looks to the side a little, smiles, then adds, "'43?"
    Then he laughs a little and asks, "Good to see you." As he pushes himself to his feet and extends a hand for a shake as he adds, "Don't take this the wrong way, fella. But why aren't you dead?"

Ares has posed:
The hand is taken, giving a firm grip and the required two pumps but nothing more. There were rules. "You're memory is perfect. As expected." A slight chuckle. "And I could say the same to you. But you're story is public, unlike mine."

He motions to the chair opposite where Steve had been sitting. "I was going to order something to go. May I join you while waiting for it?"

He doesn't really wait for the answer, since he's quite sure he knows what it is. Instead he settles there, taking a moment to be certain the chair would hold his weight. It made a little noise but then seemed to accept it's fate, remaining in one piece. "I can spin a tale for you about my lack of aging, if you wish."

Captain America has posed:
    A sidelong glance is given, wary, but he's heard stranger things and encountered curious stories many times in the past. There was a time years ago when he would have looked on dubiously at the idea of a man in a metal suit and a Jekyll and Hyde equivalent made manifest. Not even to mention the Asgardian. So at this point in his life he's perhaps more amenable to hearing out the wild and the strange.
    "It's a free country." He says, then nods to the seat opposite him as he settles back down into his own. Though he does reach over to take up his notepad and slip it into he pocket of his brown leather jacket, the pencil disappearing there as well.
    "I'll be here once you place your order."

Ares has posed:
"No need for me to go."

And a moment later, the server was there. She'd seen the new person sit down and figured he was joining her original guest. "Good morning. May I take your order?"

"Two breakfast omelets and a large coffee. All to go. Seperate checks please." He gave her a smile as she wandered off then looked back over to Steve.

"The short version. I don't age. Theres's a lot more to it but that's the simplest explanation. I've been around far longer than you could guess and will be around far longer than most people." He gives a half shrug, thinking that more isn't really needed.

Captain America has posed:
    "Hnh," He says at first, just accepting that at face value. Then he nods and murmurs, "Any particular reason or just a sort of happy coincidence?" He asks that as he leans forward and lifts his cup of coffee, taking a sip. His lip twists.
    "I mean, last time I saw you, Antonio. You were running into a burning bunker. That blew up." A pause then he adds, "Twice." That said he looks a little curious, but there's still that wariness, which makes only sense in the situation.
    "Dugan had a small service. Said a few words. It was tasteful, but there wasn't much time." Since there was a war to be won.

Ares has posed:
"Good genetic stock." Not really the best of explanations. While at the same time it was the truth. His lack of aging was another gift of his genetics. Yet, for most people, his genetics would be human. Perhaps mutant. The truth was more complicated and far more difficult for people to believe. However, this man might. He was a teammate with someone from the Norse Pantheon after all.

Mention of Dugan makes him wince slightly. "I do not usually do goodbyes. When it is time to move on, easier to erase myself from existance and start over somewhere new. Exploding bunkers are helpful for such moments."

He leans his arms on the table, considering the man across from him for a long moment then taking that leap. "You are a soldier." Not were, as many people would say. He still was. In mind and spirit. It was part of who Steve was. Even now, he was fighting the good fight though under different circumstances. "You understand what is required in battle. What is needed. And that there is something more to it than just the brutality." He tilts his head slightly and leans back again. "I have had a part in most conflicts that have raged over this world. In some small part or large. It is my nature. You have a teammate who is like myself in some ways. Though I am not Asgardian. Instead, I am Olympian." A moment to be sure no one is in earshot. "Few know my true name but I was mostly known as Ares."

Captain America has posed:
    Steve follows along with the tale and the explanation, eyes meeting Ares' but at times letting his gaze drift to the man's hands on the occasional gesture. Not exactly sure what he's looking for or why, but something that might give him some revelation or hint to the tale before it's fully revealed to him.
    Then when it comes his lips part and his head rises, "Ah, that..." He pauses a moment then nods, "That would make sense. I've met..." He seems about to say something, but remembers other aspects of the pantheon and luckily cuts himself off before mentioning the hated brother, "I've met... other Olympians. So interesting. The god of War."
    There's a pause as his smile grows a little. "Fitting. I suppose." And if Ares had insight into the man himself and the thoughts he was having, he'd likely realize that Steve is going over the incidents shared in the past, the times spent, the battles fought, trying to see if there were any hints in that direction.
    But then he smiles a little, "So what are you doing in New York?"

Ares has posed:
"I..." He tries to think how to explain it. The concept is somewhat foreign to him but he understands it. "Have some what retired from my life calling. Cut ties with my family." Not just the unmentioned brother. "For various reasons." They were assholes. And for the God of War to consider someone to be an asshole, that took a bit of doing on their part.

"I've been in New York for a few years now. Have a job to pay the bills." That gets a little smirk from him. Not like he needed the work. He just liked to be doing something. It also helped with his son. "I have a son. Wanted him to have a normal life." A slight shifting of his hands as he shrugs once more. "I am not sure I succeeded."

Captain America has posed:
    That causes a touch of pleased confusion to light on Cap's features even as he tries to puzzle that out himself, but then seems to settle on one particular course of action. "Well, I didn't entirely expect that. But..." There's another pause as his eyes unfocus and he recalls what he knows of what tales he's heard and been told. "I could understand wanting a life of your own."
    But he doesn't elaborate on that, then instead latches on the last. "A son though, that has to be a good thing. I bet he's a little terror if he takes after his old man." So strange to be talking to this man, this representation of a societal construct. And yet to have the war-time memories of him when he seemed... exactly what he was pretending to be.
    "But... you seem to be doing well with it." He gestures a hand as if the man's presence was entirely self-evident of success.

Ares has posed:
"Funny." The way John says it makes it sound anything but. But there is a lot to his story that he isn't going to share. The fact that the name Phobos was a mantle that had passed from one son to the other.

He focuses on the topic at hand. Alexander. "He was a good boy. Despite being raised by me. I am not accustomed to this world outside of war. I did not raise him completely as I should have for him to fit well in your world. More in the one I was leaving behind."

It was that moment the server came with his bagged lunch and to-go coffee cup. He passed over the money and a bit extra, insisting she keep it as the tip though it was quite generous. Gathering his things, he stood.

"We must meet again. Discuss the old days, as the saying goes." He pulled a card out of his pocket, which had his assumed name of John Aaron along with his position with his Union. There was a phone number. It was very 1990s but then, he did not have a love of new technology and this was much easier than trying to dig out his phone and share numbers.