3886/For old time's sake

For old time's sake
Date of Scene:	21 October 2020
Location:	Angelo's Carriage House
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Ares, Achilles

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Ares has posed:
Ares, as his human guise of John Aaron, had just gotten off work from his construction job. He had just gotten paid, so he's thinking that he'll be able to get something nice for dinner tonight. Though as he walks, he crosses upon a particular house and he pauses in his step.

His attention shifts to an essence he hasn't felt in a very long time, not since the Trojan War.

He smirks a little bit to himself. "Achilles." The name whispered under his breath as he turns on his heel to approach said house. He just had to be certain. With a single fist raised, he knocks upon the door.

Achilles has posed:
    The man has been hiding out. Everyone, even the gods (well not Hades) thought Achilles had died from that silly heel thingee. As if the waters of the River Styx wouldn't seep into his flesh at every part of him. Especially with the Ambrosia his mother had fed him first.
    Anyway, he pretended to be dead. The Trojan War was horrible, and ten years long. So much death. So much pettiness, and -he- was such a dick of a glory hound. He couldn't stand the person he had been, and fled that to live his life in exile and secrecy. Turns out, the Ambrosia and River water combined to make him truly immortal. Unable to die... period.
    All in all, he's been lurking for thirty-two hundred years, give or take a decade here and there. These days, he owns a personal security company... ironically named: Myrmidon Personal Security. But he gave up day to day operation of the company when he was invited to join SHIELD.
    I mean what super secret spy organization wouldn't want an unkillable warrior with three millennia of experience at both fighting, and hiding his identity?
    Tonight, the BBQ grill is smoking in the back yard. Angelo Tampambulos has a couple of steaks cooking out there... the smell of cooking beef and charcoal liberally laced with hickrory woodsmoke emanating from the back yard as the god of war gets closer.

Ares has posed:
Ares smells the scent of barbecue coming from the backyard, but all the same, he moves around the house and towards the backyard. To anybody else, it would look like Ares is staking out a house for a possible robbery. No such thing, but rather Ares is looking for him. He knows he's -there-, more than likely he's the one behind the grill.

So, with a leap over the fence, he lands on the ground and lands silently. Though a man with a warrior's sense like Achilles may yet take notice. He approaches the grill, still dressed in his construction outfit, though lets be honest...Achilles may recognize Ares immediately.

...and treat him accordingly.

Achilles has posed:
    Yes, changes in the environment -do- get caught by a man with instincts. Angelo can't sense the divine. He is -barely- divine in any way. I mean... he's three generations removed from Zeus, and two from Poseidon. The blend of those is weird sure.
    "Fence jumping always makes -me- hungry." he says in a voice that is laced with just the barest hint of an English accent. But he -has- spent six centuries living there, until the late 1800's, near the turn of the twentieth century.
    His head comes up, and those green eyes of his show recognition after just a moment of uncertainty. What? It's been a -long- time. "Well, to quote Bogart, of all the gin joints in all the world, you had to walk into mine." he says. "Would you like a steak? You are not quite the company I had been expecting."

Ares has posed:
Ares straightens out after the jump and he looks at Angelo for a moment, his head tilting a bit. Heh, Achilles hasn't aged a single day since last they met. "Hunger makes me hungry." He retorts simply, though he does hear the English accent that Achilles seems to casually be speaking.

Ares approaches him. "I'll take mine medium-rare." seems he has adopted some of the eating habits of those around him. He used to take his steak rare and bleeding.

All the same, he smiles to Angelo. "How have you been, old friend? We all expected that you would long since have passed."

Achilles has posed:
    "You know, I really have gotten that a lot." suggests Achilles as he nods and uses tongs to flip the steaks over. His green eyes flicker up and he snorts, "Old friend." he says with a shake of his head. "You say that like you like the man I used to be. If so, that makes one of us."
    Then he steps back and reaches to the table behind him. He picks up two bottles, and uses his palm to pop the caps off of them before handing one over. It's simply a couple of high end craft beers he had on hand.
    "As for how I've been.... I've had good centuries and bad centuries. But of late, not bad. I am fighting less wars though. Sorry."

Ares has posed:
Ares smirks. "Understandably. Something about you getting shot multiple times with arrows by Paris seems to have given away such an impression." he tells Achilles, even as he moves to take a seat. "Liked? No, you were an ass. The only thing I liked about you was that you fought well and you fought hard." Ares tells Achilles.

He accepts one of the bottles. "I too have been fighting less wars, so I won't hold it against you. Been trying this mortal life that these humans seem to so adore. So far...it is perhaps worth the envy they get." Ares shrugs though.

"So what of you, Achilles? Have you finally decided to have a family?"