3785/=The Glory of War and Faith

=The Glory of War and Faith
Date of Scene:	12 October 2020
Location:	Cloisters - Metropolitan Museum of Art
Synopsis:	The unflinching Alexander divines Namorita's heritage and a pact is made for him to visit Atlantis if he introduces Nita to an uncle.
Cast of Characters:	Alexander Aaron, Nita Prentiss

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Alexander Aaron has posed:
    There are many reasons to visit the Cloisters in Manhattan. From the studious and scholastic, wandering the many exhibits in the medieval hallways, looking upon the collections... to wishing to surround oneself with a measure of peace and solemnity. It's a place for quiet reflection, cognition, and a broadening of the self to accept the beauty of the world and the works of man.
    It is also a place to go that some need to do so if they wish to get the extra credit in their history class, which is important for certain GPAs of various individuals. And one of those individuals is in attendance.
    Alexander Aaron is settled on one of the bench seats, backpack settled at his feet and leaning forward his elbows on his knees, fingers entwined. Thoughtful as he looks sidelong to his distraught friend and smiling a little consoling.
    "S'ok, Tanner. It's not a big deal."
    "I dunno man, she gave me the harshness." Tanner Robinson, college Freshman and fraternity pledge sits on the stone bench outside while on the edges there some other visitors wander that open courtyard.
    "Still, kind of silly. Like I mean it's not even a bad word. It's like, so you looked at one of the greatest masterpieces known to man and you said 'nipple'." He lifts his shoulders, "Big deal, there are worse crimes."
    "Yeah, but I just know it's gonna get back to Professor Carlton's desk or something. Probably all mad."
    Another shrug, "Still. Just a word, stupid to get all stressed about it. I mean they're just sounds and you say them enough they sorta cease to have any real meaning. I mean think about it. Nipple. Nipplenipplenipplenipple. Sort of splits into its components. Pull. Ni. Pullni. Pullnipullnipullnipull. See, pointless."
    Their tone is low enough for the prohibited word to not really carry too much, but it's not impossible, considering the way Tanner starts to snicker, then laugh.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
If she had not been called to protect her homeland, the young woman muses, as she rounds the corner of the arched walkway, she would have majored in art history. Well, fat chance considering her origins. Nita's footfall is barely discernible as she walks behind the two boys seated on the bench, snickering at some joke between them.

Nita indulges herself with time in the museum when the politics at work and with the government become overwhelming. The quiet gardens take her back to Europe, the red tiled roof recall sunlight and vineyards surrounding the meditative silence of chapels.

Dressed for the office that she just escaped from,she settle into next vacant arch, shoulder bag next to her, able to see the two murmuring and laughing over a word. Once, she is sure, she hears the word nipple and throws a quick disbelieving look at them. Leaning against the column of the arch she is content to be idle for once. No saving the world or the ocean. She casts another sideways glance at the two next to her before pulling out a well worn book that she opens up to its middle.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    This close now she might hear enough to listen to Alexander's voice as he confides, "See, it's not that big of a deal. You can finagle something if it becomes a thing."
    Tanner though, he looks a touch doubtful even as he smirks and stifles another chuckle, shaking his head as he pushes himself to his feet and grabs his own backpack from the area near the bench. "Sure thing, whatever man. All well and good for you to say."
    Which causes the young Olympian to lift a hand and gesture sidelong as if brushing the other young man's concerns away. "Anyways, don't worry about it. Uptight people are uptight." That said he waves, "Seeya back at the quad."
    The wave is returned as the taller college student starts to wander off, leaving the museum now and upon catching the sight of a still annoyed tour guide, he shuffles past her quickly while hiding his eyes with a downcast gaze. After a few more moments it leaves the remaining college student there with the eavesdropping Namorita near at hand.
    Which has him turning his head to consider her, head tilted slightly and such an openness and comfortable ease to the kid that he doesn't seem to mind making eye contact if it occurs. He even gives a small wave with one hand just to be friendly before he reaches for his own backpack and pulls it into his lap with the sound of its contents shuffling in transition.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Nita smiles down into her book despite herself, the smile tugging hard at one side of her mouth as she presses her lips together, trying to make it go away. The self-assured wave gets a tiny shoulder shrug. The wings hidden under her wide-legged pants flutter with a suppressed laugh.

Reaching behind her, she pulls her long platinum hair, tied back from her face, over her shoulder to twirl the end of it as she attempts to read. It lasts all of two lines before she lifts her eyes and turns her head to look at Alex.

"You here for school?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Now it's his turn to be preoccupied as he unzips the backpack, the metal whirring a bit as the zipper slides undone. Within he reaches for a notebook and plops it out on the seat beside him so recently vacated by Tanner. Then the front pocket pouch is unzipped as well and from within he grabs a pencil. Once that's done, however, he seems inclined to answer.
    "Yesh," He says, pronouncing it that way for some reason as he pushes the backpack down to his feet once again, then eases to the side a little on the bench, drawing a knee up on the seat beside him so he's sitting partially askew, but lazing to one side. Bad posture, but comfy.
    "You too?" He asks as he looks back over at her, then eyes drift down and back up before he adds. "Or are you off into the private sector now?" And all graduated.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
"A big girl now. Finished school," she replies with a sigh that implies that being a big girl and graduated is not as much fun as it is expected to be. He slouches and she straightens, finger holding her place in the book as she squints into the bright sunlight of the courtyard.

"Art studies?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Kinda, not really." He lifts his pencil and gestures toward the large central medieval complex and murmurs, "Professor Carlton's history studies and whatnot, at ESU." In case she might know of it or attended, easy way to get that out there and avoiding her needing to ask follow up questions. Such a waste of time.
    His lip curls, "Yeah, private sector is rough. They expect results." His head bobs a little as if saying that amused him, which it did. He motions to the notebook with his pencil and murmurs, "I was just gonna. I dunno..." He nods his head in the way of that building again without actually providing an explanation. But chances are he's meaning either take some notes. Or draw the thing. Probably the latter.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
"So history? Are you going to go to grad school?" She veers away from the comment on the private sector but then can't resist.

"I'm more into lobbying right now. Or the scientific studies behind the lobbying, the environment. You know. So bottom line results are not what irks me. Politics do. Right now, at least. I'd rather be at the beach if I had my say in it."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Sorta a thing I grew up with." History. Weird thing to say maybe. But he watches her with... hazel eyes? Or just pale blue? Hard to tell without looking too closely. Or staring. He gives a nod, however, as she starts to speak about lobbying and politics.
    "Ah, lobbying. Organized bribery. I see." As he says that at the end he nibbles at his lower lip and then starts to sweep his pencil over the notebook in his hand, sketching a gentle outline of the medieval castle-like structure they're seated just outside of.
    But then he tilts his head as she states she'd rather be at the beach which causes him to look at her anew in that new light of offered information and he says, "I can totally see that. You do look like a surfer gal or... scuba maybe." He offers with another nod, then sketches a bit more.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
"Organized bribery," she repeats flatly, not denying their implications. Anything to protect her homeland. She drops her sea blue eyes from his hazel eyes. Or are they blue? She isn't sure. Slipping her finger from the book she loses her place. Straightening her shoulders, she says with bravado, "Yep. That's me or the corporation I work for," she shrugs, unwilling to engage in a debate with a complete stranger.

"I'm totally a water girl. Surfing and deep diving under water. Snorkeling, too. I need to submerse myself everyday, if I can manage it." She pitches her voice to sound spoiled and indulgent, not needing to be underwater for her health but out of some rich girl's whim.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "That's cool," He says as he continues to scritch at the pad of paper, though while he does so he looks at it and grimaces, and to be fair he's not very good at sketching. He's getting the lines and the likeness in the right angles but there's no art there. Just at most semi-replication.
    Lifting his head up his brow furrows as he considers, "I don't go swimming very often." Which for some reason seems to puzzle him. "I suppose I should. But..." It just hasn't been on his agenda. He shakes his head a little.
    "Pools are fun, but oceans. Skeery." He says with a nod, "Giant critters and bugs, and sea food I swear must've been discovered mainly as a dare at first. 'Here eat this sharp nasty thing with dozens of legs.' 'Okay!'" He says, adopting slightly different voices for the fictional speakers in his narrative.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
"I would be in the ocean everyday if given a chance. When I go home, I swim all the time." She underlines the words, all the time, still playing the overly indulged child. "And, I eat those sharp pointy things for lunch and dinner." She smiles broadly at a memory of tridents and nets which she doesn't share with him.

"Better than beef. Or milk from mammalian nipples," Nita grimaces at the idea of drinking fluid produced by the teets of land animals. "I don't get people who don't love seafood," she waves a dismissive hand at the idea.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A small snort comes from him, then a snerk as he shakes his head at the word-choice of Ms. Prentiss. He laughs a little, but stifles it down to a mild 'hee' to himself as he glances over at her and seems to ponder saying something about it. But it would take too much explaining so he just lets it lie there.
    "I like /some/ seafood." He says, forcing his features back to normal as he makes a face as he ponders, "Just the pointy things, the bugs of the sea, I just..." He lifts the hand that doesn't have the pencil in it to create a little claw or head with his fingers and clack-clack-clacks it together as if it were covered in chitin, "Who thought that was appetizing, right?"
    Then he looks back over at Nita and adds, "My name is Alexander." Since clearly she was dying to know.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Amused, she nods, deliberately not giving him her name. "Hello, Alexander..." the rest of the title hangs in the air, she regards him from under raised eyebrows a moment before relenting. It's not like he was asking for her phone number.

"Nita," she says with a shrug, not explaining it is the shortened form of Namorita.

"So, you're not a total loss. You like /some/ seafood. Alexander. Nice Greek name that. Are your parents Greek?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Lips parting as he seems about to say something, then seems to change to something else when she embarks on the inquiry about his name. "Yes, my dad. Very much so." He offers that, but then adds, "My mom not so much."
    He sets his pencil down on the notebook with a small fnap of the utensil smacking into the paper accidentally. "Nita. And yah, some seafood. Like shrimp, tons of shrimp so long as it's breaded and deep fried, that's good stuff." Those pale hazel eyes slip away as he seems to ponder the memories that brought about this affection for 'some' seafood. "And maybe chunks of lobster cooked in some sort of medium. That's fine. But if it has eyes at the table, that's a big no." His head bobs a bit before he says, "I mean, if I was starving or something sure I'd eat it. But if I have a choice on a menu? Heck no."
    Then for some reason he repeats, "Nita. Neeta. Ta. Nee." Breaking it down into its components as he ponders something.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
A dimple appears and disappears at the side of her mouth as she shakes her head in disapproval at his word play. "Keep that up and you will be singing. Nita nita, bo mita, fi fie foe mita, Nita." Turning to face him fully, still unable to decide what color his eyes are. "It's what my family calls me except when they are mad. Then I get the full Namorita."

She turns back to face into the courtyard, "Well, it explains the aquiline nose. Your father that is," she adds, with a little tap of her finger to her own nose.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Nay. More. Ee. Ta." He says pausing slightly at each syllable while he tilts his head to the side, "Nay More." Which has him drawing his lower lip again into his mouth where he worries at it and looks sidelong at her, his pencil still resting on his notebook. "Ocean gal. You're not any relation to..." But then his eyes meet hers, and lift a little bit upwards as his lip twitches. Then his gaze looks...
    At her eyebrows.
    He grins a little but then presses on, "The monarch of Atlantis and all?" A slow buh-link as he watches her, then adds. "Or your parents were just big fans of his?"

Nita Prentiss has posed:
All traces of amusement disappear. She outed herself. Her eyes narrow as she decides whether to own up to it or not. He doesn't give her a fan boy vibe. Pinching her bottom lip between two fingers, she regards him a moment before saying warily, "Yeah. Atlantis and all. Are people naming their kids Namorita? Don't tell me!" Self-consciously, she touches an ear then glares, daring him to be an ass about it.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Ah. Well." His head bobs a few times slowly, as if he were grooving to the idea or perhaps hearing some distant music as he ponders things, ponders that look of challenge in her blue eyes, ponders the tension she seems to have in her manner. He tries a small disarming half-smile as he rocks his head back and forth to the left and right as if weighing the sides of an argument.
    "I mean, royalty. That's cool. It also explains your..." He meets her gaze and says, "Well, I'm sure you're aware of it. Your exotic beauty. Or angular cuteness? Whichever you'd prefer."
    He gives a small shrug, then asks. "Though I always wondered about Atlantis, I sort of imagined there'd be a lot of verticality in the designs of things." Considering everyone can swim up or down as easily as forward and back.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Looking at him side long, Nita's stiffness softens somewhat when he doesn't troll her about being a member of the Atlantean royal family. Unexpected but welcome. "The ears give it away. I know. But a lot of people don't cop to it so...right."

Still not looking at him, she makes a throwaway gesture, scoffing milding. Abruptly she turns to fix him with her bright blue gaze, her angled eyebrows and sharp ears clearly marking her as something different from most humans.

"Don't think Disneyland castles. Think coral. Think places cozy places to hide, opening into towering forests of kelp that filter the sun. Think being open to the sea, the currents. It's more beautiful than you think. Softer. And wilder."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "See," Alexander says as he closes his notebook and slides the pencil into the spiral binder, leaving it there for now on his lap. "Now I can understand why you so adamantly defended the grossness of sea food." His head nods slowly as he ponders that situation, then half-smiles as he turns a little more to face her. "I have an uncle who has been to Atlantis, but he doesn't talk to me very much so no idea what he thinks of it."
    Which can go for a fair number of his family.
    "Well, if you're a member of the royal family what are you..." He starts to say but then catches himself as his mind races ahead of his mouth, perhaps providing him the answers he needs as his lips part when he remembers, "Oh. Lobbying." Another thoughtful nod, "Ah, did you go to school on the surface?" He asks with genuine curiousity.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
"We have a tendency to like it. Yes. it's not gross. Gross is processed food that never spoils. Twinkies. Wonderbread." The tip of her tongue darts out in a moue of disgust, "McDonalds. Whatever. Yes, I went to university on the surface, environmental sciences with a double minor in oceanography and politics."

One of her angular eyebrows rises higher as something he said earlier occurs to her."You have an uncle that has been to Atlantis? How?" She stands abruptly and moves to the end of her bench. Leaning closer, she scrutinizes him through the gap between the columns. "We don't allow humans into Atlantis. Only some very few would know it. Not humans. Who is your uncle?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "What you guys don't let humans visit? That's kinda crummy. And have you ever had a twinkie? They're good." But he straightens up and leeeeans forward, grabbing his backpack and sliding it out from under the bench, unzipping it just to tuck his notebook back into place in the blue ESU accessory. Then he lets it thump back down at his feet as he meets her gaze.
    "I mean, I don't talk to him much. Don't really think he's lying. You guys don't have many visitors down there?" He offers those words calmly, casually, not exactly fibbing, but wending his way down a path between truth and fabrication and hedging just so slightly closer to truth.
    "So if I asked you to take me to Atlantis you couldn't because you're a police state?"

Nita Prentiss has posed:
"No. I don't think you're lying. Or him." She had moved on Alex with a predator's sharpness and he hadn't flinched. A curious turn which makes her thoughtful.

"We don't allow many visitors. That's right but your uncle has been there." Templeing her hands, she might look like she was praying before she encloses one hand into the other. Head tilted she regards Alex, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

"Twinkies totes suck. Who is your uncle, Alexander? Poseidon?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Indeed there is no flinch nor fear in him, those calm hazel eyes meeting hers, though now she's much closer, can see the depths of them. Can likely see the subtle golden rings deep within the iris as he looks at her and seems to follow along with her train of thought. She asks her question and he makes a dismissive face as well as a gesture, a hand waving to the side. But his answer isn't to the question she asks.

    "Twinkies rule."
    Instead he looks between her irises with a hint of curiousity, flitting from one to the other then back again. "If I see him I'll introduce you to him, is that fair?" Not quite an answer, but a bargain offered. Perhaps a hint of the middle ground there.
    "But if I do, you have to take me to Atlantis."

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Holding her gaze steady with his. "Deal. Can you breath underwater?"