2278/The House Special

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The House Special
Date of Scene: 30 June 2020
Location: Angelo's Pizza
Synopsis: Sara comes to the realization with the help of Angelo that a decision regarding the Witchblade must be made.
Cast of Characters: Achilles, Sara Pezzini

Achilles has posed:
    The basic idea of pizza had Angelo's mouth watering. It's not that he -knew- Sara was at home. He was just assuming she -might- be there. So he picked up a carry-out special and wandered on over to her loft. But he has a cute idea. He ordered some extra garlic sauce, and breadsticks to go with the pizza. Plus some of those Jalapeno bite thingees.
    Either way, he gently sets down the food by the door. He opened the to-go of the garlic sauce and set it down at the base of the door, by that little crack under it. Then he used his hand to waft some of the garlic smell in to the loft because.. why not, right?
    But only after he gave that a couple minutes to work, did he pick it up, pick up the rest of the order, and then knock on the door.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
The shower is far enough away from the front door for Sara not to hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Steam rolls out the door scented with the old fashioned lavender Castille soap that she uses. Unaccountably, a cool draft of air redolent with garlic roils into the room. She sniffs and sticks her head out of the curtained stall. Puzzled she finished rinsing off, hearing his knock as she is drying herself. Wrapped in a large towel, bare feet leaving prints behind her, she goes to the door and peers out into the hall through the peephole. Reassured to see Angelo, she unlocks the door but doesn't open it.

"Wait. Give me a sec. I'm unlocking it but don't open the door right away," she says loudly, waits a moment for his response and then walks quickly back to the bathroom to grab her terrycloth robe.

Achilles has posed:
    "As you wish." calls Angelo. "Though, don't make me wait -too- long or I might eat all of this delicious food myself!" he calls out with a smile on his face, evident in his voice. But he's not a letch. He's not a total perv. He's just waiting there for you to say it is okay because... hey, he is a nice guy, right?

Sara Pezzini has posed:
The door opens wide, Sara standing in her oversized robe, chestnut hair curling from the damp in disarray over her shoulders. Holding out her hands, smiling and making an exaggerated sniff, "Can I take something? And, you shouldn't have but you're a genius. Thanks. Come in. Put everything on the kitchen table while I grab something to put on." She turns and gives him a brilliant smile over her shoulder, her slender form softened by the robe that emphasizes her roundness in all the right places.

Achilles has posed:
    "Put something on?" asks Angelo with just the mildlest gleam in his eye, "Don't put yourself out on my account." he offers as he walks past and just heads for the kitchen... setting down the food and all that. But he opens the pizza up and drizzles just a little bit of the garlic sauce around the crust of the pizza, before he searches for plates and sets them out, preparing each with two slices and four of the jalapeno thingamagoobers before moving to sit down and wait.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara pads back into the room, still barefoot, in cut-offs and an old t-shirt from the NYPD softball team, faded and soft. Even with air conditioning the apartment is just cool enough to not be uncomfortable but it is the fifth floor and the building dates from the fifties. Sara has promised herself to retrofit when her salary allows it.

"You really know how to treat a girl. You know? Thanks. What would you like to drink? I have soda water, wine, beer and wooo, a bottle of coke."

Achilles has posed:
    Shrugging his shoulders, Angelo glances your way, "Very comfortable looking." he admits, "But I preferred the robe." Sure, he can tease. He's good at teasing. "But since... I provided the food, you provide the drink. I decided on the food. You decide on the drink." he adds with a smirk as he reaches for a jalapeno thing and pops it into his mouth.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"I can't not drink wine with this pizza. Though, I always drank coke with it as a kid. Funny, that. Mmmmmm." She bites a jalapeno in half. The other half poised between two fingers, "Do you miss some foods? I don't know. What is a comfort food for you? I know habits change but do you ever have nostalgia for some things."

She pops the rest of the jalapeno into her mouth, grabs a napkin from the holder on the table and wipes her fingers before cradling her wrist with the Witchblade in her other hand. It reacts to Angelo oddly at times, giving her flashes of his face but in unfamiliar settings, and a warmth of feeling that puzzles her and makes her shy around him.

Achilles has posed:
    Laughing, Angelo shrugs, "As many different foods as I have had, there are -many- comfort foods. But... I always did enjoy lamb with gravy and fresh baked bread." He inclines his head, "But my usual snacks were something akin to goat cheese and olives. However... I discovered in later years upon returning to Greece that... oh, Baclava. That must be the closest thing the modern world has to Ambrosia."
    But he inclines his head and nods, "Wine will do nicely though. By all means, something simple but dark red to go with this meal."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"Good baklava is like all the sunlight of a warm summer's day distilled into crunch and sweetness in your throat. I love how light the crust is and I have a thing for pistachios. Yeah. I love a good roast leg of lamb, too. We have to do that sometime. Make all of our favorite foods. But buy the baklava."

Something in the conversation disarms her caution and she smiles at him with the ease of childhood friend. A corkscrew, a bottle of California Zinfandel, young and robust, is pulled from her little wine fridge and glasses are laid on the table. After uncorking the bottle and pouring for them both she seats herself, gesturing to the chair next to her. Flipping open the pizza box, "What a feast! What did you bring us?"

Achilles has posed:
    "I can definitely agree with that sentiment, the dinner of real old world food. From back before all of these modern shortcuts existed. But... I won't ask you to go and -hunt- for a meal." He adds with a pause, "The best invention of the modern age... grocery stores."
    he adds as he picks up the wine glass and says, "I thought you would like pepperoni and bacon plus mushrooms. And before you ask.. because bacon makes -everything- better."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Mouth too full to answer coherently, Sara nods enthusiastically about old world food and grocery stores.

When she can speak, "We'll go the farmer's market. Get good small farm lamb, organic vegetables. Want to grill it? Would that be more like home for you, too?"

Achilles has posed:
    Inclining his head, Angelo shrugs, "In all honesty, it has been so many centuries that it is difficult to recall details of things such as that without taking time to recall. But.. when I was a child, I was a prince and lived with servants." A pause, "Until my mother dressed me as a girl and sent me to live with a cousin to hide me from a prophecy."
    He smirks, "Greece was weird."
    But he does take a large bite of the pizza. "Pizza. Another fantastic modern invention." he declares.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
She makes a face at him, eyes crossed, lips pooched comically as she chews, finishing her slice of pizza. "Yep, Greeks are very weird. Oh, you said Greece was weird. Did you have fun dressed as a girl or was it an insult?"

After a good sip of wine, she piles more questions on him, giving him no time to answer the first, "Where did you live when you met the Witchblade the first time, Angelo? Or the second time? You told me a little about that but not where."

Achilles has posed:
    "Well, there was a prophecy that my mother's son would kill his father. So my mother hid me there to prevent my father from finding me to have me killed. It ended when..." begins Angelo with a slow shake of his head, "I could not contain myself, and acted to defend the daughter of my host. It was then that I realized my natural talent for warfare. I was twelve, and killed two fully trained soldiers with my spear." He adds as if now seeing it all in incredible detail, "It was my first kill, and I remember the stickiness of the spear shaft. The sweat on my palms. The feel of my bare feet slapping the stones of the floor as we maneuvered.."
    But then he snaps out of that memory when you ask your next question. "The first time?" he asks. "I was in Normandy. This was seventy or so years before William the Conqueror." he adds, "It was just a chance meeting really. But the second time, I was in Windsor England."
    He inclines his head and smiles, "We spent two centuries together... in the end, she told me that she had found someone worthy to give it to. Someone fighting for her people. We never did agree with Britain's war with France back then. But I believe that she passed it on to Jean D'Arc."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara stops eating, troubled by what Angelo is telling her despite her experience with inner city children in gangs, "I can't imagine what it would be like to kill so young. We would consider a child traumatized by that kind of experience. Send them to therapy, you know."

Fortyfying herself with a good sip of wine, she looks down thoughtfully, twice now he has described things beyond her ken. "Two centuries. How? Oh, Angelo." Shyly, she reaches across the table to touch the back of his hand trying to convey her sympathy for his pain.

Achilles has posed:
    "They were two good centuries. I did explain that the witchblade... once fully joined, will make its bearer effectively ageless. Or close to it." He shakes his head, "I believe that we would have been together still today had she not met.. him." He grins a bit and shrugs, "Clarence was actually a friend of mine. I introduced them."
    He shrugs and continues eating, "I could not begrudge them. I was going to live long enough that Clarence at least would be long dead. They did nothing dishonorable, and she and I were never -wed-. So.. when she came to me and told me of her love for him, and her desire to become mortal once more, not only did I understand.... I helped her do it. How could I deny her the happiness that she was so obviously seeking for herself?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Head bowed, hair falling to curtain her expression, clutching her hand bearing the Witchblade, Sara clenches her eyes shut. Without looking up, "Still not everyone does. It leaves them or they leave it. Don't they, doesn't it? The burden of it is too much. She must have been extraordinary to bear it for so long."

Raising her eyes, her expression brightens under the weight of the questions she has for herself, "And you a remarkable man to understand what she needed. She wanted to bear a child. Have you had children, Angelo?"

Achilles has posed:
    "I... I do not know. If I did have children, it was when I was young and stupid." admits Angelo as he shakes his head, "When I desired naught but glory, I sought the company of men and women and it is not as if they had all of the.... precautions that the world possesses today."
    Then he laughs and shakes his head, "For all I know, a quarter of Greece may be descended from my line. Women sought -me- out because of my reputation." A pause and he shakes his head, "My reputation as a warrior, not... well you know." he adds with a sheepish smile, "I hope you -wanted- honest answers here." he adds.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Laughing, she nods, 'Yes, I asked for it, didn't I? I love your honesty. And, I'm surprised that there are not more blonde Greeks considering your reputation as a, ah, warrior." Grinning, she nabs another piece of pizza.

"What a life you've led. I'm glad we met even if I feel like I'm on some crazy roller coaster recently with this," she holds out her arm.

"It helps talking with you, thank you for telling me about yourself and about what you know about the Witchblade. I'm going to need help against Irons. You know who I'm talking about, right?"

Achilles has posed:
    "Apparently, my hair is a recessive gene." offers Angelo with a mirrored grin. He shrugs and takes another bite of his, finishing the slice and turning to dip the crust into that garlic butter sauce as he continues speaking.
    "Roller coaster. That is a good term for it. But I have one question..."
    He falls silent as you ask about Irons, and then he nods, "Yes. I do know who you are talking about. My question is... are you willing to become -one- with the blade? To accept it as a part of you? Or do you want to still try to somehow keep yourself separate from it, thus weakening both it and you?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"This is no casual deal. It's not like I can ask it out on a date to see if we'd get along. It decided and then glommed on me."

Sara holds her wrist as if it's sore and sighs then looks intently up at Angelo.

"It's life changing. It's a commitment that...yeah. I don't know if I'm ready to make this. It's more than taking on a partner because we never get time off from each other."

The protests are the internal dialogue Sara has been living with, the bumps in the night that interrupt her sleep, making dark rings under her eyes and causing her to drift off in mid-conversation.

Softly, she adds, "I know I have to make a decision."

Achilles has posed:
    "Yes. The blade is needed. But more importantly, -you- are. If you decide that the blade is not for you, then that is fine." suggests Angelo as he reaches a hand to grasp your hand and wrist gently.
    "But more importantly... are you willing to let it ... how did you say.. glomm on to someone else? It -will- choose another host, and they may not be the amazing woman that you are."
    With a cringe, he shakes his head, "Forgive me. I did not intend to offer such a guilt trip. But..." he shrugs, "We need to make sure that whomever ends up with it, they do not become merely an extension of Irons."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Ruefully shaking her head, she snorts a laugh, "Go ahead. Make it worse!" Her New York bravado making her accent more pronounced.

"Listen, thank you for the compliment. You really have a storybook picture of me."

Tracing the red stone with a finger, she contemplates the Witchblade, eyebrows drawn in thought. "Am I willing to give myself to it, is the question?" Unconsciously, she is nodding yes, her face, unknown to her, resolute as a warrior preparing for a coming battle.

Achilles has posed:
    Well, this is something deeply personal. Something Angelo can't help with. Guide? Sure. Advise? Absolutely. Do for you? Nope. Decide do to? HELL NO. He just quietly observes you, ready to respond to questions. "Indeed." he says finally. "Take your time and think it through. This is not something to decide hastily." he suggests.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
As though the young detective has forgotten that Angelo is in the room, she stares into space. Minutes pass before Sara gulps a breath, shaking her head, oxygen starved. She had been far away communing with images that the Witchblade sent her. At times they don't seem to be connected to the present but this time, transfixed she watched the Witchblade bond with a succession of women in the past.

"I don't think there is more time. It is now or never. Like a lover that has to know whether I will commit or not." Sara's voice has lost its natural confidence, her voice soft, still under the shock of what she had just been subjected to.

Achilles has posed:
    "And yet, you need to -be- ready, not just decide you are. Saying it does not make it true." says Angelo in his soft and understanding.. infuriatingly calm tone of voice.
    He reaches a hand for your shoulder and leans just a bit closer, "If you -are- ready... then I will have your back. I will not abandon you no matter what happens."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Covering his hand with her own, Sara chews her upper lip, nodding abstractedly. "Thank you. Yes, I do. There is no pretending with the Witchblade. It's inside of me and can't be fooled, Angelo. It knows the truth."