Summary:When you have eternity, what's sixty years? Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
  |
It's been a few days since the would-be robber came in, pursued by a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Of course, the blip on the local news did lead to a small surge in business, and Angela managed to sell a couple of the broadswords she used to clobber the criminal in question.
Currently, on this quiet Sunday afternoon, Angela's just standing on a stepstool, dusting off some of the shields on display above reach. Sure, she could spread her wings, but someone could still wander in… plus, she likes this shirt.
Well, it certainly didn't take Ares long to realize that Athanasia was in New York after that moment. Taking a walk to her Studio, he was wearing a black jacket with blue jeans, some combat boots, and some sunglasses. With a closed fist, but - gently - he raps his knuckles against the door with a two-knock greeting.
"Anybody home?"
That voice sounds…familiar, most definitely, to Angela. Ares would've called her by name, but he didn't want to ruin her cover. After all, he knew her by two names.
When you're existed for as long as language, you don't exactly recognize voices off the bat. She does say, distractedly, "Come in! I'll be down in a moment. Feel free to look around." She doesn't look back at Ares just yet, as she currently wears a pair of snug denim jeans and a light blue silk blouse. Her hair is tied back at the moment, a pair of sticks keeping them back and from spiraling out of control.
He does indeed enter when she calls upon him. After walking in, Ares takes off his Sunglasses and hooks it into the crook of his shirt. He takes a look around. He remembers some of these weapons. She used to wield them.
But what was she doing here? Isn't she supposed to be fighting a battle somewhere? But then again…the same could be said for the War God. So instead, he looks over at her. "Take your time, I'm in no hurry." and he does start to look around.
Especially at the weapons on display. He didn't care much for armor.
Angela says, "If you're interested in a commission, well, the weapons don't have functional edges, city ordinance. But, I can do that if necessary." She comes down from her perch, then turns around and stops, her lips suddenly quirking in a wry smile, "I suspect that if I was making something for you… you wouldn't want it otherwise."
Ares grins at her lightly. "Hey Athanasia. Its good to see you." he shamelessly gives her a flirtatious once-over. "You look good. And you know full well I could make even a rusted knife into a lethal weapon." and he knows just how, too.
"How are you? Its been too long. World War Two, I think?"
Angela smiles, "Yes, your idea of a romantic evening, killing Nazis in Paris under the moonlight." She chuckles softly, tilting her head, "But yes, it has been about that long." Her own eyes wander over Ares a bit, and she arches a brow, "I'm good. Just been here for the past… well, with the studio, for about sixty years now, give or take."
If she lets him, Ares will cup her cheek for a little bit, before he lets it drop. "What could be more romantic than killing Nazis?" it was an honest question! He looks at her genuinely though. She looked good! Last time they were even romantic was decades ago though. Did anything change between them? After all, she could have found countless suitors since then.
and…oh, he realizes he has to update her on his family situation.
But he smiles. "You don't look a day over twenty-five." he humors her.
Angela snickers, allowing the touch as she smiles, "Not bad for twelve thousand and change, I suppose. Flatterer. You look good, though you seem a bit older. Not physically, but something in your eyes. You've aged." She is pretty perceptive about those things, as she makes eye contact with the God of War. One of the few that does so without flinching.
Ares smiles to her a bit, before he takes a breath. "Its been a long sixty years, Athanasia." He preferred the name Athanasia for her. Like a personal thing. He probably made some quip in their past about it befitting her duty. "I've left Olympus. Too long was I their dog of war." he looks at her, and he smiles. "and…I have a son. Alex." and who's the mother? Judging from the look in his eyes, she's probably dead. But he looks back into her eyes. He's too tough to show too much emotion.
Athanasia grins a little wider at that, "Yes, it has been a long sixty years. Though I have managed to keep myself busy… mostly with work more than anything else." She pauses at the mention of Ares being a father, and smiles a touch, "Really? How old is Alex?" Not that she could have kids, even if she wanted to, but she's curious about that, her voice warm as it always is.
Ares smiles a bit. "He's 21 now if you can believe it. He knows what he is. I haven't trained him…because I don't want him to be like me. I want him to find his own way. But, because my particular style of parenting, I believe he hates me, but respects me, more than he loves me." Ares takes a deep breath. "with his mother dying during the childbirth..I'm afraid I don't have the maternal instinct."
Athanasia actually laughs at that, "Yeah, maternal instinct is the last thing you would have, Ares. I have a bit of the nuturing side, but I was an angel of vengeance a lot longer than one of creation. Old habits die hard." She hrms, "Sounds like he could use some sort of guidance. Even if you don't want him following in your footsteps, without that he might end up down that path. Or worse."
Ares gives Athanasia a bit of a smile at her laughter. "What? Its the truth." then he hears her suggestion about having someone guide them both. "Is that an offer, Athanasia?" He asks her, and he does seem to partially close the distance between them. A subtle challenge, perhaps, but he keeps his eyes on her.
Athanasia chuckles, "Perhaps… do you need guidance?" She tilts her head up a bit, not retreating as she meets his gaze, her lips curling a bit as she murmurs, "How long were those sixty years for you, Ares?" A brow arches, very slightly, as she smiles just a bit wider.
Ares wraps his arm around Athanasia and perhaps tugs her close enough that there's no more space between them. "Not long enough to draw me fully from you." he whispers to her softly. But he still gives her the chance to back away from it all. "For you? How long were the years?"
Athanasia slips her arms around Ares' shoulders, and smiles warmly, "Very. It's rare to have someone that I've known for so long, that is not an angel." She chuckles softly, "Business is pretty slow on Sunday afternoons…" For an angel, she is pretty good with tempting offers…
Holding her close, Ares smiles. "Good. Then we won't be disturbed much." He then happily leans in to steal a passionate kiss from her lips if she allows. What can he say? Angels have been one of the most tempting creatures for him. But Athanasia? Perhaps the most tempting of all, considering their strong past together.
Athanasia mmms into the kiss, murmuring, "… should probably lock up first." Her lips curve into a grin, as she reluctantly breaks the kiss, giving Ares a wry expression as, well, angels of Fire tend to be the most passionate angels of all.