Owner	Pose
Lady Blackhawk	She's been bomb dropped, but well Zinda rolls with the punches. She'd slipped home, baked a pie, used a decidedly insane amount of rum in the process and buckled in to watch a biopic about...herself. It was vanity sure, but practical vanity. Very little if any of the books, movies, comic books and so fourth she'd seen had any relation to truth. She was always getting asked about stuff that'd never happened, like what did she name the child she'd had with Hartman. This movie, "Bird of Paradise" was as pretentious and preachy as most. Only it strangely had her fighting Nazis on the moon in a Bikini and a space helmet, which was honestly almost enough to be charming.     It was time enough to let her brain gel, and the booze loosen her up enough to bother checking "Them Wikipedios". Zinda had not paid all that much attention in history class, but now well. She'd found somone who shockingly predated her. Research was thusly necessary, before she nagged his ear off. So around nine, she snags her phone and pauses for a moment before Dialing...John.
Ares	There'd been no word from him for the last few days, as if he'd dropped off the face of the earth. Which, in all truth, he had. For the tall man who at times tends to whatever repairs the Blackhawks needs, he had been standing silent vigil over the fallen form of the God of Fear, and for a time the God of War. Phobos armored corpse had lied in repose with his armor repaired and his helm in place. The blade that had slain him was rested across his chest, both his hands holding it. For ultimately, in some ways, he was the one responsible for the loss of his life.     But such things end in their due time. His duty discharged he had returned to his home. Thankfully Alexander was still at the Camp of Summer and so was clear of the wild madness that had passed in his absence. But the house was still dark for his return... and there was still that damned hole in the roof. He spent a moment scowling at it, then stepping inside to consider his surroundings.     The phone flashed amber angrily at him reporting a number of messages. He cleared them with one button unheard. Yet as he stepped away, leaving it behind him... that was the moment it rang.     That sharp trill broke the peace of the moment, seemed almost offensive as it continued to sound throughout the house. For a time he considered letting it pass, but then he picked up the phone.     And there was his voice on the end.     "Hello?"
Lady Blackhawk	"Hey Johnny, It's Zinda. How's tricks?"She offers casually, clad in rabbit themed bath robe and bunny slippers as she slips down in the garage. "Been a few days, everything cool on your end?"She lets that hang as she pops the trunk of her mustang open, crap she did forget that thing in the trunk.
Ares	"Mmm," John's answer is just that small sound at first, then the crackle of him shifting the grip to the other hand as he answers. "No, matters have been difficult." He offers that to her, though no further explanation for now. Instead he says calmly, "I'm afraid I'll be needing some time to deal with things. If needs be I can recommend some other contractors who could complete the work I began."
Lady Blackhawk	"Well, you know I think we're a little more than contractor and contractee. I'd like to think we're buddies John, granted I get you've got a whole lot of shit you don't want me tangled up in."And a pause as she hefts the flamethrower free, before trudging back into the house. "You want me to drop by your place, or swing by mine? Dinner between friends, somone to just share some space with?"
Ares	Covering the receiver, John grimaces and mouths to himself, 'Grace' along with a few invectives. But he shakes his head and uncovers it to tell her, "Come by if you wish. I have no plans to go out for now. You have the address?" And if she agrees then he'll say, "Good, see you in a few."     And with that he'll hang up. Unless she stops him.
Ares	Kensington New York is one of the better suburbs to Manhattan. Just across the river to the East and with multiple homes that allow enough room for some wooded areas, the place that John lives is a double lot with a wooded copse and hillock for land, just enough to almost be considered an enclosed fenced in compound, but only having the one two story cape home as the sole building. Not counting the shed.     But when she pulls up the gate is open, the horseshoe driveway bringing her up towards the house that has a few lights on inside. She'll espy little tell tale marks of a child's life there. A BMX bike sitting against the side of the house, some sports equipment in the yard. But beyond that it looks like a rather typical home, and probably is more home than the man needs.     When she gets close, however, she'll see the back porch light is on and if her vehicle makes a fair bit of noise he'll be seen standing on the back deck, waving a hand towards her as he calls. "Come on back."     Then, when she gets even closer he'll hold up a bottle, "Beer?"
Lady Blackhawk	It's a rental, because screw driving all the way with that traffic. She does take a moment to, oh dear god. She brought food, can Zinda even -cook-? She's got a cooler, and well she is dressed now. Ratty Top-gun T-shirt, peasant skirt it's decidedly more laid back than the usual. Anyway, she saunters round, offering that cooler over with a grunt. "There, I fucking cooked. Now you're going to eat that, or so help me."     Not that she seems -that- upset, especially when she's gifted booze. "Nice house by the way, take it you're kid's still at camp?"
Ares	A nod is given, "Til August." He tells her as he pushes out a chair at the picnic table on the deck, then goes back to take a seat as well. He leaves the bottle of beer there for her, then smiles as he eyes her cooler. Taking the cooler he doesn't open it yet, just in case she wants to make some sort of production showing him exactly what she slaved over a hot stove for. He sets it on the table as well next to the smaller cooler that has the beer bottles. "Though, I am going to try and go up and see him next weekend. But he seems to be doing well."     A gesture with his beer is given to the seat opposite him and then he eyes her askance, curiousity in his gaze. "What is the occasion?"
Lady Blackhawk	"You were in a shit mood, and good food always helps. Seeing as you are a man, you are unable to cook. Thus only your best friend Zinda could rescue you from this endless pit of despair you have cast yourself into. Also, you're eating it."She pops the cooler open and there's a shimmer of heat, before well. Paper plates, cute little aviation themed napkins, plastic utensils. There is Sweet tea because of course there is sweet tea, and then comes the goods. Pulled pork she'd slathered with her own secret bourbon BBQ sauce, Fried catfish, baked BBQ beans, spoon bread, and pickled eggs. To top it off, there isn't just pie. There is Apple Pie, and this isn't some over sweetened bake store garbage. This is the kind of baked Americana that causes the English to burst into flame, it smells like apples and -FREEDOM-. Task complete, she slumps down into her chair with a grunt.     "So Yeah, she told me. Now, straight talk now John? I ain't gonna bust your ass, because you know what? I wouldn't have told me either, but I got questions and you got a feast."She pauses to hit that bottle for a moment. "Does Alexander know?"
Ares	A little quieter than normal she'll hear John comment, "I can cook quiet well, thank you." But he lets it go as he leans forwards to observe the items of food that she's bringing forth. The tall man gets a wry smile upon the corner of his mouth, just a little ghost of one. But he pays rapt attention, eyes following her hands as she presents each piece and he'll occasionally offer a small comment like, "Nice napkins."     But at the pulled pork he doesn't even hesitate, it's gonna get eaten. One of those plates are taken, and he gets a suitable bread for the pork, then one of those plastic forks to help him pull the pork out of the container and apply it to the bun. Once that's done he starts adding some of the sides and he lifts his chin towards her, "Want me to fix you a plate?" He offers even as he's spooning on the BBQ beans.     Takes a bit, but he's assembled himself a good meal, then drops back into his chair. For a time he sort of looks at the plate, then looks at her. And he decides to hold off on the eating for now as she's owed an answer or two and the BBQ is worth the price of admission and all. "He knows... somewhat. Not the details, not who he is or his heritage. He knows something of my past because there have been times I have had to explain it to him."     He looks back down to the food, and hmms, then back to her. "If you like, I will relate to you what has passed. And then I will eat while you ask questions." He cocks an eyebrow, "Acceptable?"
Lady Blackhawk	"You can make hot food, that isn't cooking. None of these damned yankees up here know how to cook, they fry things in vegetable oil for fuck's sake. Good BBQ sauce is made with bourbon, and if it's thin enough to go in a bottle you made it wrong."She summarizes. Zinda can, absolutely cook. That pulled pork is, like a flying saucer landing. It -melts- and the peppery, bourbony goodness has just the right amount of snap so as to compliment rather than override the essential flavor of beautifully prepared hand pulled pork. Those beans of course have their own sweeter, more savory sauce. The bread for those buns is, christ did she bake the buns?     "Anyway, if you need a safe place for him. The island is open to you, and him whenever you need it to be. Blackhawks don't forget their friends, an John you are one of the very few friends I have."She lets that, drop wherever it may. Tucking into her bottle. "Sure, give me the sitrep."
Ares	The plate of food at least will serve as incentive for the tale to be given brief, without the usual flowery turns of phrase as the Olympians are often known for. Perhaps not as many, maybe just a few. Some. But he settles in his chair with that plate in front of him, his drink in his hand and his attention upon her as he rubs the back of his neck thoughtfully. He's told this story a few times, but it is always difficult to choose the exact moment from which to start.     "I was once known as Orion, or Mars, or Ares. My father was Zeus, my mother Hela. We lived upon Olympus and life was madness, but life was good."     He takes a sip of his beer and then continues, "A little over two hundred years ago... I turned my back on my home. It was after a war. A dangerous time when the gates of Olympus were nearly breached and..." He furrows his brow, then says, "And I fought it as I could. To win. I did so. But in that victory I had earned the... disdain of the others. The hatred and fear in some ways. For to accomplish victory I had to... do terrible things."     He looks across the way towards Zinda, "So I told them all to go to Hades, that they were dead to me. I decided to walk the Earth as a mortal, and from thence on I have. As I could."     Another sip of beer and he furrows his brow, gaze distant. "I learned of this a few days ago. But in my absence, Zeus raised my son, Phobos to the mantle of God of War. It was his war you fought in." He gestures with the tip of his bottle, "Was in his war that I fought even. I did not know. I thought with my absence mankind would be free to a degree, any wars brought on would be their own through no malice of those who treat such things as games. I was wrong."     He takes a moment to swirl the bottle, "I traveled, wandered. I lived several lifetimes. I was a farmer, a fisher, a carpenter, a soldier. I had never tried to have a family, however. Until ten years ago."     He smiles a bit, eyes distancing as he looks to the side, "Alexander's mother was a good woman. A police officer, there had been..." He looks back to Zinda and gestures with the bottle, "There had been flooding in Texas. I for the longest time I would hold myself back, not allow my presence to alter matters as I could. Each time in the past I had, people had paid the price. But she... she risked herself for dozens of people all through that night. And she convinced me, for once, to be better than I was."     He waves a hand to the side, "The birth was too much for her. My fault again. I was selfish to want these things. But I swore then I would see that Alexander had the best life I cold grant him."     Another frown, another deep breath as he continues to work his way through. But then his willpower gives and he reaches forward to steal a small bit of BBQ.
Lady Blackhawk	"Alright, ok. So your eldest, is responsible for the second world war? Alexander, the Younger son who's off at summer camp? Is he, a god or a regular person or...inbetween I guess?"Zinda is, well brow furrowed seemingly far more interested than anything. She takes what she's told, and doesn't so much as flinch.     "Well, I believe soldiers are a breed apart. When people see war outside of poetry and pretty paintings, when they get some hint of the truth of it all. So yes, I understand how that works, though well."Zinda offers a faint smile. "We both bailed on the families we were born to."
Ares	"Alexander," John pauses as he looks over at the woman, "He is mortal. He may inherit, he may ascend, or he may live life as a mortal. There is no way to know. He will be gifted, to some degree. He is already a good warrior. If times were different..." He lets those words hang there, but then he shakes his head and gets back on track.     "But the reason why I would try and not... affect the world too severely is that when I manifest... the others of my family can sense it. The more I did, the more likely they would find me. It was only recently that they did."     There's a small smile on his lips, embarrassed in some way as he says. "I went to a convention for the construction workers of America. It was there that Phobos somehow found me. I did not know it was him at the time, he lashed out as he could. Monsters, creatures, foul magicks. They were sent to me and in turn endangered those around me. I fought them off. I worked with some of the defenders of that area and together we defeated his efforts."     His brow knits, "But it was then that he appeared. At first I thought my father had made a shade of me, a monster to stand as the God of War. But no. I learned it was my son, Phobos. He attacked those there, and we fought."     His eyes narrow and he looks down and away. "We grappled with each other through worlds and realms, every time it seemed we were about to finish our battle we would be moved elsewhere. We fought for... it felt like years. It was 27 hours of time that passed here, perhaps more for us. It was... hard to gauge. But then we fell from the sky..."     He looks up towards Zinda and smiles a bit, "And there was Grace. She aided me, broke his knee. And the next jump through space I was able to gain the upper hand."     Then there's a pause as he looks down at his beer. It lingers for a time, almost long enough that she might think he has no more to say. But it's then that he says, "I had been trying to make him yield, to get him to surrender. But then he threatened Alexander. Said that... I could not protect him forever. So I made the decision. I took his life. And the battle was over."     He looks back up and frowns, "I have been tending to the funerary rites, standing vigil. And it is now that they are over."
Lady Blackhawk	She sits silently for a moment, before digging around in the cooler for a moment and out it comes. It's an ugly brown dusty thing, but the label though aged is intact. It was once brilliant and colorful, but now it's all but a mottled collection of greys and browns. "Blake Bourbon Bottled with pride in Pickensville Alabama, 1926". It's worth, well more than a bottle of alcohol should ever be.     "This is the part where I think I'm supposed to tell you some sappy story about how and why I understand exactly what you're going through, and that everything is going to be alright and everything for ever is just going to be a peach. Darlin I ain't got no story bout killin my old kinfolk, nor can I sit here as your friend and lie to you. It's not going to be, "OK" for a very long time but for what it's worth. I think you made the right choice."Zinda settles back in her seat with a humm, setting out a pair of short straight walled ceramic cups and a bottle opener.     "You want me to tell you a sad story, so we can sit here and stew in our sorrow for awhile?"It's not a tease, this is Zinda. She'll tell stories as necessary, and of course she'll sit here for however long as Ares wants her to. "You shouldn't be alone though, it's not healthy."
Ares	"Zinda," John looks across the way to her, "I am at peace with my decision. I regret what had to pass. I have..." He looks to her and smiles a little, but it's not an easy smile, it's one of those smiles that one would imagine would preface someone being about to change from faux happiness into a rage. "I have killed.. and killed." He looks at her steadily for a time as he tries to somehow impart the weight of that declaration. Would numbers add? No. For Stalin was correct. A death is a tragedy. Billions... a statistic. A horrible horrible statistic, and for him it is true.     "I know what I am. You may wish to think of me as this... this..." He gestures with one hand towards the food, and the bottle. Then he corrects himself. "I may wish to think of myself as this mortal thing. As if I do have one ounce of worth or peace due to me because I have for what? Have decided to kill a little less this century?"     "So you do not need to... to try and share this with me. My shoulders are strong to carry this burden. I saw you in the bar, I do what I can in my own disguised mortal way to make sure bad things do not happen to you... because I have seen /millions/ such as you, that have been so ill used by the war. And in your case. I can tell you that it is entirely, and truly, my fault."
Lady Blackhawk	"I went to war for fun, John. Not for country, not for profit, not because I hated anyone. I thought it was going to be fun, hang out with cute guys and fly fighter planes all day you know?"She smirks at her own admission. "And because it was what my parents forbid me from doing, so no. Not your fault, if it wasn't that it would have been something else. Aces don't get made, we're born for this John. If I hadn't had my war, where would I be? Dead in a hole somewhere, another forgotten housewife. Another nameless woman who never accomplished anything really, nothing that mattered. So don't be so quick to take that from me, I know who and what I am. Anything else would have been less."     "You're not John the Mortal, or Ares the God of fucking war. Not to me. You're my friend, thats where it begins and ends for me."She offers a little sigh, before finally grabbing herself a plate of pie. "The only ill use for me, involves peacetime. Hell lets be honest about it, I loved it. I loved the mud and the blood, I loved the fighting and the whole thing. The only thing that ever fucked me up, was a fucking pirate who wasn't part of the war. So that's not you, thats life as a woman on the frontier."
Ares	"You are an impossible woman," John says simply as he shakes his head and then reaches for his plate. He settles back and starts to stab into pieces of it with his fork and grimaces to himself, then proceeds to eat. It just is a few moments of chewing, devouring... silence between them. But the quiet is nice and allow some measure of introspection. He looks aside and takes another bite and chews for a time.     "In any case."     He looks back at her and then says calmly, "It will be a bit longer for me to finish the work I started."
Lady Blackhawk	"It can wait. I have a potential contract coming up anyway, we'll be out of country."She raises a brow, before finally reaching over to snag that bottle and the opener. Working the cork slowly, letting it bite the screw as she works it deeper. "So question time. Do people pray to you, I mean if I shoot down some jackass and I do it in your name that does..what?"     She pops that cork, and you can -smell- it instantly. Hell the opened bottle lets off wisps of mist, and what she pours is nearly as clear as water. Just a light almost buttery color to it all. Goodness knows the proof of the stuff. "Also I am the most impossible woman, I make it a point to be. Blame my mother really, she was a wing walker you know? S'how she met my dad, and she was fairly...well stubborn is too nice of a word for it."
Ares	A snort is heard from him as he takes another bite of BBQ and spends some time chewing. He looks askance across the way at her, "I don't hear prayers. Not really." He furrows his brow and looks to the side, "I used to at times, when something was done in my name, when a sacrifice was made, when a battle was won." He shakes his head, "Now... it would take an act of magic. I have left many of the trappings of my office behind."     He gives another grimace then takes another bite of BBQ. "But I still have some power. My favor has some weight to it. But mainly I am just a man who has lived a long time."
Lady Blackhawk	"I would hope you have a few more years left in you. I get my way, I'll go out the way I came in. Naked, screaming and covered in blood."And a sip, followed by a soft humm. "Will need somone left to look after her, christ listen to me. Finally get something steady going, and I go straight for the bittersweet end."She swirls the glass, eyes drifting closed as she seems almost drunk on the aroma of the thing alone. "So whats the God of War's opinion of Mercenaries, seeing as you've got a somewhat unique persepctive of things. Am I doing the right thing here, getting things back together I mean?"
Ares	The man looks away, his brow knitting together heavily, uncomfortable with the question. "Zinda." He shakes his head his hands flaring to the sides as if he's trying to dismiss her question. But he looks at her, "You don't know what you are asking. Who you are asking."     He looks at her with furrowed brow, as if trying to somehow convey to her this sentiment just through the power of his will. "There are... two aspects to myself. There is the man you call a friend, and then there is the other."     The plate is pushed away and he shakes his head while biting his lower lip. "As your friend, Zinda. As the man who wants the best for you in the world. You should give it up now. Go and live your life happily with Elliot. Fly, please still fly. But then the other aspect of me..."     He pushes a hand over that short stubbly hair as his voice changes faintly... slowly the longer he speaks into a deep baritone growl. "That is the Ares who would want for you to turn away from the foolishness of this child's love. That would tell you that you are weak for such thoughts. That you must focus on becoming better. To excel, to become the greatest pilot that has ever existed and burn the very sky with your wrath. It is the side of me that would want you to burn in the sky, laughing as your skin sloughed off your body. For truly, is that not glorious? Is that not exulting in your perfection and in turn honoring me?"
Lady Blackhawk	"I already died, I'm pretty sure anyway. Twice maybe, but it didn't stick. Hell second time shot me here, so I don't know John.."She raises an eyebrow at the second asepect, Ares the God in the flesh. "I can't stop being a fighter pilot, any more than you can stop being what you are. In peacetime I'm just another blonde with a drinking problem."She shrugs there. Letting her gaze stray further afield, before inhaling slowly.     "First time, I just got unmade. Like somone pulled all the stitches out of a ragdoll, and I just fell to pieces. I was somone else for awhile, somone you wouldn't like very much. Somone who should have just been shot, but that's not the way things shook out, but like me? I wasn't pushed down, I was gone. Eight sixed, totally under somone's control. Second time, well. I saw thi-, well tarnation you know that bit."
Ares	The man nods once and then holds up his hands as if he can't handle this... this moment... this camaraderie... this mortality. He grimaces and rises, setting the food aside and he says. "Forgive me, Zinda. But," He looks around and he says, "You've come a long way. You must be tired. Let me prepare your room for you." That said he turns and starts to move towards the sliding doors that lead into the kitchen, but then he remembers the coolers and starts to pack things up. "If you would be so kind as to put this in the refridgerator." Waste not want not and all.     "I need to get the covers out of storage." And with that he pulls open the glass door and moves inside.
Lady Blackhawk	"Sure thing, I can stay the night. Just don't give me no nonsense about guns and booze not mixing, I still got most of my fingers and toes honest!"She watches Ares go, before sighing softly and looking back towards the sky above.     "Zinda Blake what in the world did you expect. If he had the answers, you'd just hate him for it."With that she rolls to her shoes, and polishes off her glass with a wince and a cough. Cough medicine indeed.