11652/Odyssey to Ithaca

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Odyssey to Ithaca
Date of Scene: 23 June 2022
Location: Ithaca
Synopsis: A gathering happens on ancient Ithaca. Old items are found. Memories are shared over dinner. And the first step along a trail remembering an Odyssey.. Are taken.
Cast of Characters: Circe, Hercules, Greer Grant, John Constantine, Donna Troy, Diana Prince, Meggan Puceanu, Achilles, Jennifer Walters




Circe has posed:
Ancient Ithaca. A city state of ancient Greece. Known for it's heroes and their part in the Trojan War. Explored and at least partially catalogued by archaeologists in the nineteen thirties and left to it's own since, remembered by the sea.
    And what rough memories the sea had. Loathed by Poseidon, in the years since it had been occasionally scourged by the waves, but had still stood.. If not in the state that it had once been in so long ago.
    Stories since then of writings of Odysseus, musings and schemings, memories for his son to pass along his thoughts of cunning had been coming forth. Enough at least to get those curious, those that remembered.. And those whom had their own interest in such old things to come by.

Hercules has posed:
    HERCULES, Prince of Power, Scion of Zeus, Lion of Olympus, First Among Heroes, yadda yadda yadda, he's here... and doing his best to lay somewhat low.

His mother in law still has a temper and a hair trigger on the old godly misfortune gun. He looks every bit a vacationer, khaki shorts, a white polo, and a pair of cheap sun glasses all do their best to make the God of Might look inconspicuous.

Drawn by a hunch and rumor, Hercules has ventured from his modern stomping grounds, his every step upon the soil of his home land sounding off with the flip, flop, flip, of his gift-shop bought sandals.

Greer Grant has posed:
Ithaca. The Trojan War. Poseidon. Odysseus. It's all Greek to Tigra. That is to say, she knows it's Greece, and she's somewhat familiar with the Trojan War, mostly from school days, but she does have a connection to people of history, and a curiosity streak a mile wide. Thus, she finds herself in Ithaca. For her part, she's not trying to be inconspicuous, walking along in feline form, though with a light fabric wrap about her hips and legs as a vague nod to modesty and wearing something other than a bikini while here.

John Constantine has posed:
Synchronicity means that a vacation, no matter how innocuous, is never just _a vacation_. John and Meggan finally got someone to babysit Cici, and decided to come to Ithaca for a nice little, you know, _relaxation_.

But John knows what his life is like, and Meggan didn't oath herself to him because she's ignorant. Still, at the moment, they're just walking along, hand-in-hand, trying to enjoy the climate.

"Ah, bollocks, is that bloody Heracles? He dresses like a bro no matter what fashion he picks."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Remembered by the sea? Perhaps a little unfair. It is now almost seventy years since Poseidon last visited his wrath on Ithaki, and the small capital of the island, Vathi, spreads picturesquely down the slopes of rolling hills to the sea, is a sleepy but pleasant tourist destination with a few thousand permanent inhabitants.

    A mere half millennium old, founded by the Venetian masters of trade, Vathi itself does not harbor much that is truly ancient, though it is filled with buildings with red tile and plastered white wall in the Mediterranean style that have stood a few centuries.

    It is across the bay, on mount Aetos, where stands the ruins of Alalkomenes, once a bustling settlement. First dug by Schleimann, the discoverer of Troy, the town reached its heights in the classical era, but amongst the ruins are the remains of a circular temple far older, dating to the time of Odysseus himself. Records in Themyscira confirm that it was once a sanctuary to Apollo of great importance.

    Further north a few more miles stand the ruins of Pilikata, the ancient capital, and the palace of Odysseus, close by a museum to Homer and the tiny town of Stavros.

    It is however the modern town of Vathi where Diana and Donna, the two princesses of Themyscira have arrived, travelling here somewhat incognito. And why here, why to this sleepy tourist town? It comes down to a broken arrow of silver. Not the best material for making an arrow, it had remained a curiosity in the museum of Themyscira, little attention paid to it. Yet in recent days a Themysciran scholar studying ancient scrolls has found reference to an /arrow of Telemachus/ made of silver. The reference is vague, but implies it was once, when complete, an item of power.

    Perhaps to Diana and Donna, this is merely an excuse for a brief vacation, but one with a minor ulterior motive that drove them to select this particular island -- the possibility that somewhere here, quite likely in that ancient circular precinct to Apollo, may be found the other half of the arrow.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana, dressed in a blue wrapped robe with a dark crimson shawl over her head. She has a pair of designer sunglasses over her eyes, and her dark hair is poking back out of her headdwrap, dangling down behind her shoulders.

The Princess is walking to catch upo with her sister... "Donna." Diana says softly with a smile on her red hued lips.

"I spoke with Hector, and he says that we can meet him and his family tonight at their villa for dinner." Diana tells Troia, speaking of an old friend she's wanted her sister to meet for some time.

She draws in a soft breath then, in a clearly good mood. "This was a good idea to come here for a little while... I feel that you may need it even more than I do." She states with a soft grin for the other.

Circe has posed:
The place is ancient. With memory and story. Of tales and epics. Things fondly put down. For better or ill. Places from myth woven to modern day. For some reason or other, those traveling are going down the same pathway. Towards that of a long, long since quiet home. What might have been called a mansion by the standards of the day translated to the ancient world. Where the ruler of Ithaca had his palace.
    Long since buried but not forgotten. But still not accessible. But on this day.. Wanderings by those explorings might take them in that direction. A.. Quiet pull.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Hordes of British tourists love to descend on the Greek isles for a stag party, a hen-do, or a cheap getaway of booze, waves, and sunshine. SPF 300 is probably necessary for the sunglasses-wearing blonde next to rapscallion and general con man, John Constantine, not to burn a particularly lobster red shade. A net bag in hand shows the benefits of beachcombing and a bit of shopping in Vathy Square. The weight of the figs and honey-soaked baklava gives it a particular swing.

"You reckon on going to Afales Beach afterward? The white sand looked awfully good," she cheerfully notes. Blonde yes; perfect Ithakan accent? That too. Don't ask. Her gaze slants after John's when he announces none-too-quietly that someone is in town. "Ooh! Really? Mum would love to know how--"

The murmur of what that promise in fades into a whisper, "He is and whatnot, but we don't have to." Her fingertips scoot up against her bangs, shaking them up a bit to loosen them. "That nice fisherman told me about a grotto around the west coast, too, if you want a spot of privacy. Best to avoid all the big crowds, you know? We might spot my niece's locket down there too and she was pretty put out when it got lost. You can go drop it off, she glares at you and you get a bit of credit, right?"

The bright smile from the Celtic goddess isn't remotely the least bit worried about what her 'niece' would think, or who or what might have lost it. Those ancient stories weave up, feeding her in silent abandon, setting her and John on a path out of the current capital and around the olive-shrouded paths into the hills. "This is probably quicker than a moped, anyhow."

Hercules has posed:
    Hercules does not dress like a Bro.

He is the original from which the bro-mold was cast! The Proto-Bro, if you would.

In the absence of rumbling thunder or the prophetic cry of a peacock, Hercules feels as if things are going pretty well. Never before had he tried to be subtle but now he discovers that he has quite the knack fot it! Perhaps he now discover himself quite capable in the clandestine capers.

He took a moment to nonchalantly pause , tipping his glasses low along his nose and survaying his surroundings... Yup! Nothing but normal people, going about their lives untroubled by such adventure as would call to a gods very heart! None the wiser, Hercules Prince of Stealth, follows the pull to what fate would have in store for him!

John Constantine has posed:
John seems a little distracted as Meggan starts to suggest things they can do. It's not that he isn't paying attention -- or rather, that he doesn't want to -- but when you see one Greek demigod, you start casting your magical senses out like a net just in case there's... one, two... more, and is that a _golden-furred woman_ with feline grace?

Then, of course, there's the tug. While Meggan talks, John has already begun to slowly pull her in the direction of that gentle mystical nudge, his hand squeezing hers and his feet leading them.

This is what she gets for pledging herself to the black sheep of magic: not a minute of normal vacation.

Greer Grant has posed:
Greer pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. Her tail flicks back and forth gently as she considers something, not aware of what it is she's even pondering. There's a tug, a pull, a sense that she ought to go...that way. Her curiosity continues to be tickled, and she follows the pull, looking about cautiously but not fearfully. She sees others, none that she recognizes, herself, thanks to the power of various pairs of sunglasses.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Hector?" Donna repeats with a brief snort of laughter. "How very... unsuitable." There were few Greeks more hated by the Trojans than Odysseus, and while Hector of Troy had more reason to hate Achilles in the end than he ever did Odysseus, this Hector is of course not that same one. The passage of more than three millennia doesn't prove much in these cases, but Hector was killed during the siege. Before indeed the Ithakans constructed a siege tower of Assyrian design that helped the Greeks to finally breach the gates, an event remembered by Greeks unfamiliar to siege towers as the wooden horse of Odysseus.

    Donna turns to stare inland, where up on the slopes a number of larger houses enjoy spectacular views of the bay -- one of which, presumably, must be the villa of this 'Hector' Diana knows. Diana knows everyone. "Sure," she says. "That sounds fine. Yeeah. I can't deny a short break seems like a good idea." She turns from the slopes to flash her sister a smile before her gaze goes back to the road along the bay on which they walk. "I have strong doubts we'll find any bits of silver arrow, Di. The chances of it being here are remote. The chances of it being anywhere are remote. It's a miracle the half we had survived -- the rear half of the arrow would be less interesting. Just a rod of silver, really. I'm sure it was melted down long ago. But this is a pleasant place to vis..."

    Donna interrupts herself, putting a hand on Diana's arm, and pointing to a figure in the Distance. "Di? Isn't that Tigra? I mean... it /is/ Tigra." Donna has not in fact seen Greer since she was hosting the Super Match Game TV Show which Donna was a guest on a couple of years previously, but Greer is distinctive. When you probably know most of the felinoid humans on the planet, it makes identification easier.

    Thus it happens that while the mighty power Greer's sunglasses make easy identification of anyone she knows hard she'll soon see a pair of familiar Amazons in the distance, waving and calling her name.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana is turning around to look over her shoulder as she listens to Donna speak on what brought them here. She spots what she knows to be John Constantine, and his wife Meggan. It makes her smile softly, thought also piques her curiosity some too...

When she looks back to Donna, she shows a soft smile to her sister. "Well, you know the addage that it is about the journey, more than the 'treasure' itself." She retorts with a glint of a little grin.

Diana is stepping around to the other side of Donna when Greer is mentioned, spotted (punny if she were a Cheetah right?)

"Yes... it would appear it is..." Diana says in response, trying to catch Greer's eyes, and offer her a wave in greeting while reaching up to pull her sunglasses from her face...

"Seems it is a popular tourist day here..." Diana notes quietly.

Circe has posed:
There are smells coming along off from the island. Of shepherds plying flocks, of places for tourists.. And some of the things of modern life, for better or ill that had taken them. For Greer.. If she is paying attention to it, to her senses there is, in fact, a faint smell of silver if she were to identify it and track it. Something distant, yet nearby if she were to almost taste it.

Achilles has posed:
    Ithaca, aka Ithaka, aka the home of one of the few men that Angelo, aka Achilles of Pthia called friend during his original lifetime. And the man is in the area, dressed in civilian clothing. A lightweight short sleeved button down shirt of white and light blue vertical stripes, along with a simple pair of khaki pants.

    He felt the pull here, but he's felt pulls to places many MANY times over the centuries. However, today he arrives just in time to scowl. The first words he heard spoken as he approached were Donna's, speaking of the memory he regrets the most out of all of those he has. It is enough to make the man stop in his tracks and reconsider moving forward to join the others. So it is that the tall, jade green eyed blonde man stands there, the wind catching his hair... it being the only motion of him for a long moment.

    A long three count passes before he takes a deep breath and approaches without saying a word. He is usually charming and outgoing. Today, he is suddenly melancholy.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
John's weight lags on her arm a bit if he gets too distracted so Meggan avoids dragging him any further. She simply comes to a complete stop hovering on the worn path trod by countless feet; Turkish, Venetian, Aeolian, Mycenaean. While he spots different faces of some familiarity, she spots one in particular.

Her smile brightens a whole lot and she rests her chin on John's shoulder, the better to make a really obvious whisper just one nick smaller. "Look, that's Ms. Prince." Nope, not a first name basis there, being polite instead. "She was incredible with that sword business a couple months ago. She's with that lovely friend of Terry's too." Sunshine traces after her, the shadows recoiling back under the bushes and behind the plastered houses overlooking the Adriatic. For all John foretells certain doom in a scrappy, hangdog coat, Meggan is the absolute opposite, trying not to bounce on her toes.

"Should we wait or something else?" Her thumb flicks a circle over the bag she carries. A small adjustment slings it over her shoulder, scented richly by acacia honey, figs, and citrus. "You feel it, right? Or this just me catching echoes again?" Speaking of echoes, Angelo might be a living one under another name. Just a matter of time before he slews into view from their vantage on the path leading deeper, and the master of the grill gets a wave.

Jennifer Walters has posed:
    It's been a while since Jennifer has be on anything even remotely like a vacation, so when the Themyscirans invited her to join them on a trip to Ithaca she jumped at the chance. Arriving with Donna and Diana she looks absolutely radiant, grinning from ear to ear.

    "Thank you for asking me to come," she tells them. "I think I really needed this. You know how much I needed a break." When Greer's name is mention her face lights up even more, and she waves furiously to catch her attention. "Greer! Over here!"

John Constantine has posed:
"Oh, for the love of -- is that bloody _She-Hulk_?" John just turns to look at Meggan, then around. "Is it just a convention and nobody told me? For fuck's sake." Meggan's question just gets a shrug and a hand tossed up. "Might as bloody well. Come on, then. "OY, YOU LOT," he tells the group of women who ... probably all out-tall him, to be frank, "you want to split a table somewhere?" He has Meggan with him, she'll protect him, right?

Then his demigod radar, still going, pings again. "Wait, is that Angelo? Oh, for the love of... I'm lobbying a complaint to the Presence. I wanted ONE vacation."

Greer Grant has posed:
those who know how to read a cat's tail can tell Tigra's interest is increasing by the increased flicking and twitching of hers. She tilts her head one way and then another, nostrils flaring as she scents the hair. Huh, silver. That's interesting. Her attention is drawn away from musing about the scent by the sight of someone waving at her, and then she recognizes the Amazons, one of them green, and offers them a broad grin and a wave. "Oh man, fancy meeting you all here. I'd say something about a small world but I don't want to cue the song to start up." And then something that was said catches up to her. "Treasure? Wouldn't be silver, would it?" And then a cautious look towards the Constantines as John calls out.

Donna Troy has posed:
"Probably?" Donna replies to Greer, her expression slightly dubious. "But then this is Greece." She gestures towards the water. "I bet I could find a half dozen silver drachma down in the bay if I spent a morning swimming. Honestly we're mostly here to get away from things for a while. Jen's not the only one who needed a break!"

    "Though..." Donna sighs slightly. "I get the feeling this is turning into one of /those/ occasions, and a nice quiet getaway may not be on the cards." There's a loud British voice 'oying' at them, and Donna gestures in that direction. "Unless I miss the mark," she says at a conspiratorial whisper, "That's Gloriana and Constantine. I mean I /hope/ it is, but I hear there has been a rash of fake Constantines lately. Maaaybe only one. I wasn't paying that close attention and the explanation was very convoluted." She breaks into a grin. "Do we go over and greet them, or do we run in case it gets even more convoluted?"

    Dropping the whispered voice and arching an eyebrow, Donna asks Di "Sister... is this your doing? Did you invite half of the American superhero community here without telling me?"

Achilles has posed:
    When Zeus is your great grandfather and Thetis is your mother, you get dragged into things that you'd never choose to do on your own. So as Angelo approaches the rest of the group, his eyes traverse over the gathered people present. He gives a half-hearted smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

    Then he slowly lowers himself to crouch before reaching to pick up a small handful of local dirt from the ground. In the ancient Greek tongue, which... a good number of folks present can understand and / or speak pretty much at will, he says softly, "I am sorry it has taken me so long to visit your home old friend. As the people of today have said... it is better to be late than to never arrive at all. A rule that you proved true in your day." And yes, his eyes have a faraway look to them before he stands back up and brushes his hands clean of most of the dirt.

    Looking towards Hercules, he says, "Great Uncle. It is good to see you again." And then his eyes pick out Donna for the briefest of moments before they shift to Diana. He nods a greeting to her, "Great Aunt." he says in greeting to her. And then he lets his eyes take in the others, Meggan receiving a smile of greeting that -does- reach his eyes, and then John... well, John is John. He just nods to the man because hey, once you have cooked barbecue for another man, you are practically family, right? And his eyes cannot help but notice Jennifer and Greer. Both of which are... ahem... difficult to miss. But he has never actually -met- them. So there is a polite upnod of greeting before he turns to look to Donna once more. "Forgive me, but I could not help but overhear the name you spoke earlier." He pauses before forcing the name through his lips. "Hector. I am hoping that you are referring to someone nearby of that name as opposed to the historical and mythical figure by the same name."

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana had been purposefully concealing her identity with the scarf and the dark blue robe, but she'd removed her sunglasses now, which made her face quite visible. A smile is shown to Greer, and a glance given to Donna before she looks back to the Avenger with the tail. "Silver on your mind, Tigra?" Diana asks in a happy tone.

Her eyes drift next toward where John and Meggan are, she smiles at Donna's words, before nodding once. "It is him, the real McCoy, as they say... Or so it would seem." She brightly smiles to the two also before shaking her head gently. "This seems to be an unusual coincidence. But... far from the most I have experienced."

Of course, about a second after that and Angelo speaking in ancient Greek has Diana's gaze dropping upon him, while he thusly there-after approaches them.

"Or... maybe not." Diana relents then at seeing both Angelo, then Hercules.

"Something is ... unlikely about this." She says then, releasing a faint laugh. "Hello, Angelo..." She quietly tells him, before her eyes go to Herc, and she dips her pointed chin in a single nod for him. "Hercules." She greets him nextly, before looking back to Angelo and shaking her head. "Hector... as in a old friend, but not that old..."

Circe has posed:
For thsoe sensitive to it, particularly now that it has been pointed out.. There is a light prodding of it. A gift? A direction? Guidance? All of those things? None of them? But now that such a thing has been pointed out it is rather difficult to not be aware of. Definitely there.. But without the immediate pressing of necessity. Without the immediate pressing of 'it must be done'.
    Apparently for once the guidance is, perhaps, less than fickle and more out of offering. The scent is there, the sense is there.. Of light magic..
    But also memory. Perhaps very much so for the veteran of the Trojan War. A sense of memory and direction. Something wielded by a friend.

Jennifer Walters has posed:
    The strange man who is totally /not/ wearing anything even closely appropriate to the current weather conditions catches Jennifer's attention. She leans close to Diana and Donna and asks, in a low voice, "Who is Constantine, and why would /anybody/ want to fake him?"

    When Greer approaches she grins at her and opens her arms for a hug. "It's good to see you here!" she says. "What's this about silver?"

    The continued gathering of people of note isn't lost on the jade giantess. "Yeah," she says to Diana. "There's certainly a /lot/ of people here." She may not be sensitive to magics, but she certainly can feel that /something/ is going on.

Greer Grant has posed:
    "I think it might be appropriate to that sort of occasion," Tigra says to Donna, regarding the silver. "I noticed the scent of it, but look, I catch all kinds of scents, all the time, and things that aren't dangers, or friends or just strange, they don't always grab my attention if I'm not looking for them. Silver's not something I have any reason to be looking for, being neither Lone Ranger nor Werewoof, so if it caught my attention, along with everyone being here..." she trails off with an almost audible "dot dot dot." Her fur ripples, briefly, slightly, in sympathy to the magic.
    Angelo's Greek is as Greek to her as Greece. She's used to getting the sort of attention she receives from him, though, all the more so when partnered with Jen, for whom Tigra rises up on tip toes to give a firm hug. "Always good to see you," she says with a grin.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Meggan shakes her head to the question that probably wasn't intended literally in the first place. She just takes it that way. "Athens and Thessaloniki hold the hero cons and entertainment conventions." A bright smile meets that question. "Not Ithaka." The pinned smile fades a fraction and she makes the ancient hand gesture to ward off the evil eye, almost something from habit and not a conscious gesture. "Love, the last time you lodged a complaint, we ended up on holiday the hard way so maybe..."

Bright grin for everyone, forcibly yanked back to the moment before her face picks up something more unnerved than not. The demigod meter for her is cranked up past fifty and unlike more seasoned mystics it won't be turned down easily. "We've got baklava and olive oil, if anyone has bread to break." Too late to hold, as her head turns and she goes onto her tiptoes. Greer has the lovely lashing of her feline tail. The golden-haired girl starts to float just a bit. A trace of a feverish brilliance gleams in her far too bright green eyes, a shade no cat or human has ever possessed.

"Something's saying that way. I don't think it's the amulet, 'cos that would be hooting at us. You figure we go look?" Not touch. Look. Let that calm Diana and Donna, as it should matter. "Oh, right. Angelo's family to me too. Mum says hi."

Hercules has posed:
    "Nephew!" booms the burly vacationer who absolutely wasn't Hercules a moment ago but now allows his clever facade fall away to reveal himself as-

                                     HERCULES                                    
                                PRINCE OF POWER                                  

He zeros in on his kin, arms spread wide in dire threat of a hug. When he spots Dian and she spots him, that threat is rescended. His jubilation dims to a somewhat awkward smile. He lifts his hand, clearing his throat into his hand, "Diana." he all but bows. The heroes gather and Hercules takes their number, heartening for the company. "Quite a coterie indeed." he opines, one fist poised at his hip while the other clasps his own chin.

"Truly, this is not chance nor idle fate. No... This has the markings of..." He pauses, looking from one to the next and the next. Dramatic effect builds as he fixes an accusatory eye upon John... and then a wink to Meggan"

"Sorcery!"

With this revealed, hercules RENDS his shirt from his breath and turns, shouting to the heavens and hells above, "Come forth, Wizard! Reveal yourself!" He was taking a shot in the dark here but you will not believe how many times this works.

Donna Troy has posed:
    It's not going to escape the notice of a sharp-eared Amazon when someone in her vicinity starts muttering in a form of Greek that hasn't been widely-spoken since long before the time of Homer even, with those characteristic vowels of the Mycenean form. Donna is eyeing Angelo even before his greeting names Diana his great Aunt, and that other guy as a great uncle, revealing that what is going on here is clearly in the realms of what Cassie likes to call 'god nonsense', a phrase Donna embraces wholeheartedly, especially in recent days.

    And then names are spoken, not that 'Angelo' means anything to Donna, though 'Hercules' certainly does. Donna's headstrong, but fortunately not /that/ headstrong and is aware that over the millennia a certain detente has been reached, so while she regards the pair somewhat warily, there's no sudden Amazon Attacks. Even if Hercules is behaving in a dramatic and excitable fashion. This may be normal for Hercules.

    "He's a wizard," Donna replies to Jen, matching her low tone. "A /British/ wizard," she adds, as if this were something to make one additionally wary of wizards. "He speaks funny."

    In answer to Greer, Donna pulls out a slender rod of silver, the front molded into an arrow head -- the surviving half of what may or may not be Telemachus' arrow. "Maybe you're just smelling this?" she suggests. To those with a sensitivity to these things, particularly Meggan and Jon, the broken arrow tweaks the magical senses in just the faintest of ways. Perhaps it was once magical, but there's not much magic left in it if so -- at least in this incomplete form. The sense of it could very easily get lost in the noise of such significant amounts of Olympian magic that appears to be just sloshing around here today.

Achilles has posed:
    "I've a feeling that this has more to do with Clotho, Lachesis or Atropos." says Angelo as he steps closer to Hercules. "And.. I -have- been telling you this for a long time, but.. you need not use every event as an excuse to destroy your tunic." he says as he moves past the Prince of Power.

    His eyes rest upon Donna for a moment before he turns towards John and Meggan, "I've a feeling that the sorcerer and fae goddess are, while powerful in magic, not responsible for this. It feels more like the strands of fate are weaving us into it."

    And then he looks to Diana, "I have already made formal apologies to you for my actions in the past. Do you think that I should do the same for your protige' here?" he asks with a gesture to Donna. "I would hate for anyone to think that I am trying to deceive them."

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana reaches a hand up to push her red hood back down off the top of her head, to let it bunch up around the back of her neck. She shows Meggan, and John, a smile, and is about to speak to Meggan when she notes Hercules reaction. A light tilt of her head is given to him before she just shakes her head softly. "I'm unsure of how such a random association of us could all end up at the same place at the same time, but we should make good of it, should we not?" She asks, as Donna pulls that broken arrow out. Diana looks back to John, and Meggan then. "Jennifer, Donna, and I were going to a friend's house for dinner this evening, the pair of you would be welcome to come as well. He is a very... energetic host." Diana says of her friend with a small grin, before she looks to Angelo, and... even Herc. "You two as well... should it sound appealing."

Circe has posed:
There's still a bit more of a nudge. Likely mostly given to the direction of Angelo. This is the island of an old friend and comrade, old as it has been. So for him there's something more of focus given and drive. As the previous talk of silver, and an arrowhead taken in partiality..
    Those two things would if one were to have a sort of sense of them have association. Towards where the old palace that the ruling families of the city state in the past had ruled from, thousands of years ago.

Jennifer Walters has posed:
    Jennifer nods to Donna at her explanation of who John is. "British wizard. Funny accent. Got it."

    She looks like she's about to say something else when Hercules announces his presence like thunder. "Herc!" she says, greeting him with a grin. "It's good to-" and now he's ripping his shirt of and shouting to the heavens. Oh dear. There's a brief moment where she starts to reach out to touch his very /manly/ pecs, but somehow restrains herself. "I don't think that's necessary, Herc."

    Her attention is taken by Diana at the mention of dinner. "Of /course/ I'd love to come with you, Diana. Dinner it is."

John Constantine has posed:
John seems nonplussed regarding everything going on. When it comes to where they should be going, he looks at Meggan and then says, "We're actually out here trying to have a bit of r-an'-r, yeah? But magical pulls don't just happen, so what say we all go have a look-see and then be on our merry bloody way, hey?"

He starts walking more purposefully, because if there's one thing John Constantine does it's take the lead.

No one asked him to.

Some people may have reservations or straight up objections.

Doesn't seem to matter to him, though!

Greer Grant has posed:
    Tigra's tail does not stand out stiff as a bottlebrush when Hercules booms, but it does stop its twitching for a moment, before resuming with an air of pretending it never stopped. And when his shirt comes off as fast as Quincy Taggart's, she has an impulse very much like She-Hulk's. Refocusing on the matters that are at hand, she looks at the arrow, purses her lips and shakes her head. "No, that's not it. There's something else silver. It wasn't as noticeable until you brought that out, though, and now it's real hard for me to miss. Had to guess, I'd say they were connected. Oh, this John Constantine certainly seems...interesting.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Hercules' impressive display of torn shirt and rank causes Meggan to takes a deeper breath. Trying not to laugh, maybe. But that's her ride moving. Telling that with her hand in John's, he can take her along the path without any effort. When you levitate and forget that walking bit, being voluntarily pushed or pulled becomes a lot easier.

"That could be," she replies to Donna without touching the arrow or doing more than looking at it. "It's very pretty. Did it break or get snapped?" she asks. The smile widens as Diana reveals herself in full. Who can't love having such company along with Jennifer?

The bag is swung, lifted. "Like Angelo said, we aren't projecting too much noise unless baklava is that enchanting. I'd be glad to share with everyone. We have plenty. But we can help find whatever's making all the racket. 'Cause the island is talking, sort of, and trying to push us along. Gently! It's not mad or anything."

If they have any doubts where John is going, follow the slightly luminous gold trail of her hair as she flits after him. Or Tigra's spectacular colours. "You act like you don't love the mysteries."

Hercules has posed:
    Glowered powerfuly up at the sky and clouds, challenging each in turn for a fight... When none accepted this opportunity to hit the Zeus-son in the face, he seemed to deflate, crossing his arms over his chest quite pensively. "You know, that usually works." he muttered defensively to Jennifer when she ventured her suggestion. He sulked for but a moment before giving up the matter as the past!

"Ah, that sounds lovely!" he replies to Diana, "Need I bring anything. Drink, dessert?" he chatters on idly as he takes up step.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna tilts her head curiously at Angelo, regarding him thoughtfully for a few moments before responding. "I'm not her protege, I'm her adopted sister. Troia of Themyscira," she says. Her lips curl into a smirk and she gives Diana a wink. "Actually I founded my own super-team five years before Diana came into the public eye, if anything she's /my/ protege," she jokes.

    "Silver is very soft," she replies to Meggan. "It wouldn't really just snap. I'd guess it was cut in half intentionally. The break is clean. However we don't really know -- it has been gathering dust in a store-room on Themyscira for thirty-four centuries or so. Just a curio, really."

    With a shrug, she puts the arrow away. "If we're inviting the whole crowd along, Di -- you should probably phone Hector and warn him. He was only expecting three. And we should bring wine." She eyes Hercules. "Probably quite a lot." He's got that look about him.

Diana Prince has posed:
"You are fine, Angelo. Worry not." Diana says back to him before she cataches the last of what Donna says about proteges. This causes her to grin. "Careful." She warns her sister slightly. "Or I'll start telling them embarrassing stories about you tonight..." She teases back before she steps around to follow after Meggan, and Constantine.

She grins toward Hercules. "Yes. Wine... And a new shirt?" She asks, arching a brow at him as she walks past him, putting her sunglasses back on over her eyes now...

Circe has posed:
As the group makes a decision on food and dinner, the light pulling seesm to fade. If a divining rod, they were clearly going in the right direction. Nothing seems hostile, belligerent, or aggressive. As if conveniently things are in the right direction and the group itself is welcomed, intended or not.

Achilles has posed:
    "Stories? You know that stories -are- a tradition at a meal. I would love to hear tales of you sisters." he says collectively to Donna and Diana. "And I would be happy to accept the invitation to a meal. It is... only mildly unfortunate that his name be such a recognizable regret of mine, but I am capable of adapting."

    However, he turns to regard Donna and adds, "As you and the Avengers.." he says, gesturing to Jennifer and Greer... "are likely the only ones who do not know my real name, allow me to introduce myself and explain why I felt compelled to apologize to your sister for past transgressions."

    He takes a breath and steels himself before saying, "Long ago... something like three thousand, two hundred years ago, give or take a few decades... I was known as Achilles, prince of Pthia. And... back then, I was what I have heard Americans refer to as... a total prick." One more breath taken before he adds, "And despite your sister saying that I am fine, I felt that you deserved the same apology that I gave her, for ... well for everything that I did back then."

Jennifer Walters has posed:
    /Now/ Meggan has her attention. "Baklava? I think you might be my most favorite person right now," Jen says, as she picks up the pace. All this talk of magic has her worried though. "I'm not that experienced with magical things," she says. "I really only have two modes. Hulk Smash, and Hulk Litigate. Well, and Hulk Party, too. But that's besides the point. I don't know if I can do either of those with magical things."

    She chuckles at Herc and gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll get a chance to wrestle /something/ before the night is through." She gives him a grin, and a squeeze and falls back with to the side with the other Themyscirans.

    "It's good to meet you, Achilles," she says, holding out a hand for him to shake. "I'm Jennifer Walters, otherwise known as She-Hulk. As you could probably tell." She leans forward and mock whispers, "I kind of stick out, you know."

Hercules has posed:
     Hercules belts a boisterous laugh with Donna and Diana's agreement, "Excellent, all that we might carry!" cheers. He visibly puzzles at Diana's amendment, lips absently pursing, "A bit odd, what size do they wear?" yes, the tattered remnants of his shirt yet still hung off of his arms and shoulders. His burly breast exposed to the greecian air!

With Jennifer helping soothe his slightly dinged ego he cannot help but smile a bit brighter. "If not I'll hold you personally responsible." he retorted after her. He was only half-flirting. It had been a minute since his arm wrestling match with juggernaut and he was starting to feel antsy.

John Constantine has posed:
John kind of stands there for a long bit, quietly trying to figure out what's going on. He takes in the sights; listens to the essence of the world; takes in the rather delicious aromas of Greece...

... and then he claps his hands and turns to everyone else.

"ALL RIGHT, YOU LOT, listen up. I know you're all used to everything stopping and revolving around you because you're superheroes or demigods or whatnot, but I don't fancy repeating meself, so."

John rubs his hands together. "These items are designed to cue us on coming quests of personal natures. This doesn't feel like the Fates; though it's definitely Greek magic of divine nature." He adds, in a mutter, "Been dealing with a lot of that lately."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Angelo is a fantastic chap. You like roasted or grilled meats, he's just fab at it." Meggan puts in a good word for Angelo's abilities at barbecuing and other assorted American arts of preparing food. Trust a Brit. Nothing on her lonely isle compares to the plethora of barbecued variations that an ancient Greek exposed to Near East techniques and American styles knows. "Anything we can do to make it easier for Hector?" Hospitality counts for something.

Donna's explanation certainly helps with the clipped arrow and how the relic comes to be in its current state. She eagerly gives a nod, making a soft sound of agreement. But she gives a bell-bright laugh. "Oh, I like you!" Who doesn't like She-Hulk? "Litigation and baklava. For a while I worked with Matt Murdock. Hulk litigate is funnier though. You can have as much of the baklava as you like. Pretty sure John can't put away a whole tray himself." Why does she have a whole tray? John reasons. "I'm Meggan, and that's John Constantine. I get called Gloriana sometimes. He's called bossy and a conman, but he knows what he's talking about. So we must be standing on something pretty darn big to interrupt dinner plans."

A hopeful note blooms over her features, cultivating a faintly radiant glimmer when light bends to find her. It's just a thing. "This is exciting!"

Jennifer Walters has posed:
    "Matt? He's good folk," Jennifer says brightly. "I've worked with him on a couple of occasions. Thought about offering him a position in my firm, but he seems pretty happy where he is and he's doing good work, so I let him be."

    As they walk to dinner and converse, they come across a bow and a map that seems out of place. "Um," she ventures. "Is this normal? do people leave bows out to greet guests as a kind of Greek thing?" Her eyes glance at John. He's the 'expert' on magic stuff here, and according to him, magic is afoot. He should know.

Hercules has posed:
    "Aye, Constantine but whatever nefarious foe has laid this snare for us is wily enough of a foe to not fall for my masterful baiting." because what respectable mage could resist the desire to zap Hercules? None, hence Hercules surprise and mild sourness. "I have obviously angered enough evil wizards as of late." he muttered idly. "So until our adversary deigns fit to pull tight their trap, we shall enjoy a repast with friend and stranger alike! "These things do usually work out as such, you know that."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna nods her head to Angelo, her response amiable enough. "I am only twenty-seven," she explains. "Though I was raised on Themyscira, I never met my aunt. So I do not take it personally, /Akirewu wanax/." That's a way to say 'prince Achilles' that was ancient even in Homer's time -- she may be born in the era of the cellphone, but Donna has clearly not skipped her Themysciran education. "It was a time when many men were total pricks. That's why the Amazons came to be, after all. If you have come to recognize that and regret your acts, I have no argument with you."

    As for Diana's threat: "Do not forget, sister. Before you returned to the island, I was the only child there and the only /other/ child anyone remembered was you. I was raised on /your/ embarrassing childhood stories, and there were quite a few. I shall start off gently. Perhaps the tale of the time you attempted to short-cut the kneading of dough. Do not challenge me, sister!" This is the way that Amazons fight.

    "You'd be surprised, Jen. There are whole classes of magic where litigation is a powerful thing. The fae, for example, are famous for their contracts. There is a rumor that the reason they closed off so many of the old pathways between Earth and the Fae realms was the invention of lawyers. Too much competition."

    As the group reaches the pathway to the villa where Diana's friend Hector lives, the buildings thin out, becoming more widely spread between stands of trees, and fields. A small shop, a little beyond the turning, promises locally made wines, but the source of some of those wines can be seen here in a small vinyard, perhaps even attached to Hector's Villa close by. It's resting across an old barrel that the items Jen locates are found.

    Donna inspects the bow first. The millennia have dried the wood out and bent it from true, but it still retains the distinctive shape. "No," she replies to Jen. "Even in Greece, this stuff should be in a museum." She very delicately stretches out the ancient papyrus bark as far as it will go without breaking, enough to reveal some details of the faded ink lines on it. "A map," she declares. "Crude. None of the Phoenician innovations. So either a very ignorant map-maker, or pre 6th-century BC. These really ancient maps are almost impossible to read. They're more a symbolic expression of the relationship between places than an accurate conveyer of distance or direction. An inch can be a mile in one part of the map, and a thousand miles in another point. Kind of like a portolan where none of the lines are to scale, and someone invented all the bits in between."

Achilles has posed:
    Nodding to Donna, Angelo accepts her statements without correcting her one bit. He just breathes a bit easier now. Then he is turning towards the building and giving John the stink-eye just a wee bit. He shakes his head. "John. There is no reason to rush forward blindly. And there is no reason to not be civil to one another. Perhaps you should deflate just a bit. Whatever it is has waited a long time. It can afford to wait a little bit longer." he suggests.

    But then he -does- move into the building, and into the dining room. His eyes fall upon the bow... and he responds to Jennifer's query. "No. This is no Greek tradition. And this is not -a- bow... this is -THE- bow. The bow of Odysseus himself. I have seen this bow in his hands before. Strange that it was never enchanted. How it survives to this day, I do not understand."

    he takes a step closer and looks at the weapon, "My only real question about it is.. are we here to take possession of it, or to earn some sort of worthiness by drawing it properly?"

Circe has posed:
The map showcases islands that names familiar. Telepylos. Scylla. Charbydis. One marked almost with tears. Ogygia. Aeaea. Others.

Diana Prince has posed:
"I regret nothing." Diana fires back to her sister with a sparkling smile as they walk onward. Moments later and she has her phone out to call ahead, to tell their dinner party hosts about additional guests. She spends a few minutes on the phone before ending the call, and then explaining some to those within ear shot. "Hector is an antiques dealer here in the region. He was one of my primary contacts toward the recovery of many Amazonian artifacts after I established myself within the rest of the world. He is getting on in years, of course, but he still holds all the exuberant personality that he has ever had...." She says this with a smile prior to the bow being examined.

While it is examined, Diana continues on ahead toward the villa to meet with Hector, his wife Vilja and their two Great Dane dogs named Mortimer and Sanji.

The villa is a lovely affair with a two story home upon a grassy property lined by a fence along the outer street way covered in vines and statuary of Greek historic figures. It is a serene location, and one that seems quite immersed in the history of this richly old part of Greece.

Jennifer Walters has posed:
    Jen looks surprised at Angelo's declaration. "/The/ bow?" She lets out a low, appreciative whistle. "That's quite an artifact you have there. If I remember correctly, the bow was super-hard to bend and only Odysseus himself was able to string it." She shakes her head, "Classical Greek history wasn't one of my strong suits, in college, though, I have to admit."

    She nods to Donna, "Fae. Got it. Would you say that they're better or worse at negotiating contracts than demons? I've had to deal with demons before. They always think themselves so clever, but they've got nothing on Atlantean zoning laws."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Careful with that bow," warns Meggan. John might be itching to move on or get to the part of dinner that potentially doesn't end up with him tossed in the sea for putting his loafer in his mouth. Holiday time for him is rare, rarer still where it doesn't end up with a bill or violence.

Her eyes thin a bit. "Kinda depends on the story but Odysseus' bow and its arrows are stained in loss and death. Um. I figure you and Hercules probably know about the whole bit with Iphitos, but I'm more talking about Telegonos. The death was basically an accident, like he Steve Irwined it against his dad, and pretty bloody sad. One of the tales from Apollodoros says he shot Odysseus with his own arrows instead of using a spear made by the gods after he hopped off Aeaea. The old tales don't exactly agree, they get funny like that," she gives by way of apology. They don't agree on the weapon but do say it had a lot to do with the cattle-raiding and the fulfilment of a prophecy that the king would die by his son. Totally a better and saner prophecy than the one Tiresias. Anyway, just saying it could be a dangerous bow or arrow, or symbolic and carrying a family curse or something. I usually sense those straight up but you never know."

She breaks into that dreamy little smile in Jennifer's direction. "Oh. Sometimes they say we were punished 'cos we didn't pick a side with the Presence in the War, so we got cursed to hold to our promises after the Morningstar fell. Doesn't quite seem that way. Depends on who. Mab could convince half the archdemons to sign away their fiefdoms cause she's just that slick, Titania tends not to do that bit. Some like Brigid don't /do/ pacts. I've outnegotiated Hell, sorta. But if it was between us, the contract's got to be agreed by both parties, so."

Hercules has posed:
    Hercules confessed, "I cannot say. By the time Odysseus, I was no longer mortal. I remember talk of him, certainly. For a decade or two he always seemed to be in the thick of someone's ire." It had almost made him jealous for a time. But less attention from that side of the family can never be too bad. "So we stand with bow, arrow, and yet now even a map. Clearly bread crumbs lain for us." he muses aloud.

Achilles has posed:
    "Not merely -a- map." says Angelo, his voice reverent. "If I am not mistaken, this is a map of the... Odyssey. The roundabout voyage Odysseus was forced to take in order to try to return home after the war." A pause. "Some of the gods were definitely jealous of his cunning and his fame." he states.

    Then he shakes his head, "Perhaps this is telling us that we need to recreate that journey for some reason."

Jennifer Walters has posed:
    Jennifer grins at Meggan. "Part of me wants nothing to do with them, and the other part wants to try my hand against them." She shakes her head with a wry chuckle, "I think I might be insane."

    The talk of all things Greek has her shaking her head and mumbling, "I am /so/ over my head here."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna listens with faint amusement to the half-Fae's account to the lawyer. "Demons are definitely worse," she adds. "They're sneaky, but they kind of don't really /care/. Fae take contracts personally in a way that demons don't, so they make very sure of them."

    The bow's the real curiosity though. "It's a /palintonos/," she explains to Jen. "A kind of reflex recurve. If it wasn't so ancient that the sinew had dried out and straightened the shaft, you probably wouldn't even recognize it as a bow. The design probably made its way from the Iranian steppes -- via the people who would later be called Thracians or Cimmerians, perhaps. Not many Greeks would have even seen a bow of that design at the time, and one built to the size of a large Greek bow would have been challenging to string. This kind of bow, a lot of the energy is in the string tension. I'm quite sure several of us here could have strung the thing without a thought, but after three thousand years there's no way it could survive a fraction of its own string tension, so don't try."

    "...unless it actually is enchanted to survive the tension that is," she says. "In which case, also don't try. Never string a magic bow without determining the nature of the magic first. Everyone knows that."