Summary:It seems even a demi-goddess can't escape the fantastical in her daily routine. Diana has the luck (fate?) of meeting none other than Alexander, son of Ares. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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With the sweltering heat of August descending on New York City as an extra, unwanted blanket of mugginess, many folks plan their excursion to be indoors rather than outdoors. Diana herself is currently leading a small tourist group around the first of many corridors of ancient Greecian art in the new wing, pride of the MMoA.
She finishes explaining the history of a particularly well-preserved clay pot, painstakingly decorated in black ink and detailing the leaping dance of bull-jumpers. "And if there are further questions, do not hesitate to ask." Her smile is warm and welcoming, her lipstick neutral today. The well-built woman wears a cream-colored pants-suit, her hair left to fall about her shoulders in lustrous dark waves. At her lapel, a name tag with "Diana" beneath the MMoA's insignia.
As the group disperses, one grey-haired matron snags her elbow to ask more about the bronze statue of a horse down the way. Diana is very set to answer when…
…what is this? To her senses, there is a presence — something different — something both novel and old — ancient power in a paler swipe. Her dark-hazel eyes scan the crowd as her smile melts away to a thoughtful watchfulness.
The world to Alexander is a many layered and tiered thing. He is aware of powers and the subtle shift of the fates that can affect the lives of so many, aware that at times such things are weak to the fickle nature of flighty creatures of fancy. Yet he is still ignorant of the depth entire. He is aware of the way the strand of his fate can affect another's, but ignorant of how some beings… can sense the powers of creatures similar to themselves. That magical affinity between some of like nature.
To him it's just a subtle brush of breath upon the back of his neck, a spared glance to see naught is there. Then nothing. Back to the smiling features of his two roommates who are walking along the museum with him.
"The first time I came here, I was twelve, and I told my dad I had a book report." Justin, a tall thin kid with a pony tail, a backpack, and skinny jeans, chats amiably as they walk along. "When I sorta just wanted to see that hall of the topless women thing they had?"
Tanner, much shorter than the other two boys pipes up, "You mean the Polynesian exhibit?"
"Yeah that! Anti-climactic though."
"You know the internet is a thing, right?"
"My dad wouldn't let me use it, man! We were practically Amish it was so bad."
But Alexander sort of grins, adjusting the hang of his backpack as he walks, "Even back then you were…"
Tanner hopes in and finishes Alex's sentence for him, "Way super thirsty." Then he takes a hit on his asthma inhaler as the roommates laugh. They look like a picture of the utterly ordinary as they walk along. Normal.
Diana, having at least arrived at the conclusion of this tingling sensation being present within the current room, turns back to the museum guest. "Yes, the horse does contain elements of Phoenician artistry," she confirms to the matron. With her question having been answered, the museum-goer then rejoins her family farther down the long rectangular hallway. Brilliantly lit and deliberately mirroring nuances of ancient architecture in its breadth and ceiling height, it leaves no one mysterious by dint of shadow.
The Amazon princess quietly moves off to one side, all the better to see if she can hone in on this source of dissonance — not precisely dissonance, but difference — both akin and opposition to her own magical fingerprints upon her person.
Her eyes fall upon the trio of young men and narrow thoughtfully. Quietly, with her heels making soft sounds of impact, she approaches them with her clipboard tucked against her ribs. "If there are any questions, you are welcome to ask," she offers in a mellow tone alongside a small smile.
Ah-hah. Him. The woman's eyes linger on Alex in particular.
As she draws near she can hear them chatting, though the two on either side of the one in the middle seem to be hovering around him. It's an easy thing for her to discern, or anyone who has watched people for a fair length of time. How some orbit another, seek their attention. Yet the youth in the middle, he's barely talking, more just smiling. Laughing. Going along with the joke of the moment.
"I'm amazed the Greeks could conquer anything really. I mean for a people who take hundreds of years and still don't know how to invent pants and shoes…" Justin is on a tear, grinning as he pauses to look at a particular vase.
Tanner pipes up, "You do realize they lived kinda near the equator, right? Different climate?"
"Still, how can you fight another army if you're afraid of them stepping on your toes?"
But then Alexander smiles a bit, looking down and then up, "I imagine they're not so bad."
"Sure sure…"
Of course then Justin hushes up when Diana steps over and as quick as that, the cat's got his tongue. Tanner takes another hit from his inhaler, falling silent at the beautiful woman before them. And she's talking to them. That's insane!
Alex, however, smiles a bit as he meets her blue eyes with his own. "Yes ma'am. Thank you." His lips part as if he were about to say something, but doesn't.
"Of course." The moment of circumspection passes and once more, Diana is the epitome of the composed museum curator, brimming with a quiet pride and perpetual offering to share the wealth of knowledge around them spanning centuries. "It is wonderful to see the youth of this era taking the time to learn of the past. So often it escapes through the fingers of those living in the now." Her smile deepens a touch even if her darkly-lashes eyes hold a watchful light, still particularly in Alex's direction.
"Is it that you are visiting for school work? A term paper to write?" Her gaze travels throughout the small group now, taking in both Tanner and Justin as well.
"I uh," Justin sort of looks in her eyes and seems to get lost for a bit, then he shakes his head and looks at Tanner with an expression of a drowning man seeking help.
Tanner, to his credit, doesn't leave him to drown. "We sort of pass through here sometimes. Because it's… air conditioned." Ok that didn't help.
Alexander, though, he looks between the two of them and says, "Hey guys, you mind if I catch up with you in a bit?" His voice is warm, a small half-smile offering a silent apology.
"Oh hey, sure, we'll see you back at the place. After we… go work out, yeah." Justin finally recovers somewhat, perhaps with the prospect of retreat before him. Only for Tanner to start pushing him, "Seeya, man."
The blond youth waves to them as they move off, each sneaking a glance behind them. But Alexander's attention has shifted as he says, "I… know a bit of history. Kinda." Then his brow knits a little, "Do I know you?" He asks sincerely.
Diana's lips curve in a small, knowing smile. Ah, the mercurial state of the young. She nods to the departing Justin and Tanner, adding, "Thank you for visiting today. We look forward to seeing you in the future." Once the other two men are beyond earshot, she glances back to Alexander. Her countenance remains relatively open as she considers the answer to his question.
"I do not know if you do, but you are different." There is no judgment, not yet, in her word choice. "Somehow, I know of you in another matter entirely, beyond the simple senses of the world. I am Diana Prince." No hand is offered for Alex to shake by the Amazonian warrior. She leaves her introduction at this for now as a test, to see if this unusual young man is aware of her modern nom-de-guerre.
"S'good to meet you, Ms. Prince." His features light up when he smiles, the expression given freely, a trait of youth that he still holds. Yet a subtle shadow drifts over his features. The lack of a handshake doesn't put him off, many cultures do not offer such though it might be strange since she seems to… fit in.
For a moment he moistens his lips and there's a hint of confusion there, as if not quite understanding the situation. Which he doesn't. So he looks to the side, then back at her, shifting his grip on the backpack that hangs over one shoulder. "I umm." He starts to try and find the words, then instead of trying to pick the right ones and be clever…
He just blurts out his thoughts directly in the question that preys, "Why do I feel like we should speak somewhere else at length?"
He shifts his weight to the other foot and looks away, smiling ruefully, then back. "I feel like I should know you. And only thing I can think to say is, 'hey let's go get some coffee?' Or something? And that sounds like. Rude."
In quiet patience, Diana stands and observes the young man. She marks the flickering of thoughts over his face without contributing commentary of her own and when the potential invite is off-handedly extended, her lips quirk against a smile. The sense of being on the cusp of mildly-charmed laughter is a very real misting about her.
"There is nothing wrong with speaking over a cup at the bistro. Though…" A lift and turn of her wrist showcases the glint of a watch-face. "If you will meet me there, we may speak at length either there or elsewhere, because yes, I am of the same thought. Very few people on this planet speak to me as you do." Her dark eyes rove over his face again. "I did not get a name from you. How should I address you?"
"Ah," Alexander says as he opens his mouth for an instant just before giving her his name. "Alex. Or Alexander. Alexander Aaron." He says them each in succession, likely coming upon various reasons to offer them in his train of thought.
But then he seems to come to a decision and just tells her with a small half-smile and a sigh, "Alex." He reiterates, since yeah that's the best choice. He stuffs his hands into his somewhat baggy jeans, shifting his weight again to the other foot.
"I didn't have any plans, so sure." But then his eyes widen subtly, "I mean, unless you take like four hours or so, then I kinda do have an obligation." It's so curious the way he speaks, this steadiness of offerings given without guile.
Eventually he asks, "Is that alright, Ms. Prince?"
Diana shifts her weight too as if to break into motion, but pauses in a long line of graceful poise. "Of course, Alexander — Alex," she amends kindly. "I do not expect us to be speaking for such a prolonged period of time unless need necessitates. If you will meet me at the bistro near to the front desk? I need to return paperwork to its filings and gather my belongings." As she then takes her first step to walk by Alex, she adds, "And please, call me Diana, if we are to remain on a first-name basis." Another warm smile and the curator walks briskly towards the offices.
Not but a handful of minutes pass before Diana appears again, her strides bringing her towards the collection of chairs tucked out of the way of the main walking path. With her small clutch tucked over her shoulder, she espies Alex and walks towards him. "Have you a preference as to where we speak? They do make a fine cup of coffee here, though there is also the Wheatcrest Bakery not a block down, if you would rather enjoy a freshly-baked muffin as well. The muffins here do come wrapped in plastic," she informs him with a mild discontent in this.
He had taken a seat, at first settling in on the edge of it, leaning forwards with his forearms resting upon his thighs, fingers interlaced. He seemed pensive, a touch on edge. Yet the passage of time slowly let him transition from such tension to being a little more at ease.
Yet when she arrives he gains his feet smoothly, reaching down to lift his backpack from at his feet and slings it over his shoulder easily enough. It's a brief moment she can observe him from afar, catch the subtle grace as he rises and turns. Just there a moment before he returns to the norm.
"I umm," He looks to her, then gestures to the side, "To be honest, I don't really, like… eat. That often."
And then he says casually, and with such sincerity that it might take her aback. "So wherever you're comfortable. Just if you… sort of plan to try and murder me. I'd ask you to please don't? You seem so nice."
And with that she has crossed that subtle line between his normal life, and the fantastic.