3955/Branches And The Strongman

Branches And The Strongman
Date of Scene:	27 October 2020
Location:	Alley Pond Park
Synopsis:	Viola meets up with Hercules, post saving, for a talk in the park.
Cast of Characters:	Viola Fiore, Hercules

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Viola Fiore has posed:
Hercules had rescued Viola from being flatted by a falling monument. The whole incident precipitated by a pair of cars, one pushing her from behind to make her accelerate while the other then drove in from the side to try to steer her into a parked truck when she was going a high rate of speed.

She was driving the car of Carlos Manfredi at the time, and suspects that the attack was more likely meant for he than for she. Maggia do not normally go after family.

But none of those details were shared with Hercules, Viola's sense of loyalty to the Family tearing at her though she'd longed to tell him. But she had managed to set an appointment with the famous historical hero, to meet up another day, at a local park.

Today is that day. It's cool out, and Viola is wearing black denim pants with a red and black sweater. She has on a light jacket overtop, and gloves as she waits in the park at the start of some of the walking trails.

Hercules has posed:
Hercules - Prince of Power! - had not expected his day of talking about himself, his exploits and lessons that he supposedly learned along the way to shift into the daring and terribly dramatic tale of how he met, and rescued none other than The Magnificent Viola Fiore.

As ages would pass, the tale would grow and change in the telling but it would yet be remembered as a shared legend unto the day he dies, however many of those he may have!

The date was set, and kept in person... The Lion of Olympus was considered lacking in very few matters. One of the few would be his lack of a cellular phone.

As he pledge, so he did! The hour of his arrival came and so did Hercules! Gladiator sandals slapped along the walking path, the thick, leather straps reaching nearly to his skirt, the thin, green thing and its gold trim flapping dangerously in the chill breeze! He wore little else, a green and gold sash across his chest that tucked into his belt, the mask that did little more than protect his brow and frame his handsome, smiling face... and a paper food cup that yet held many, bite-size churro nibbles. Their warmth caused a thin layer of steam to drift up from the cup.

"Hail, Fair Fiore!" he boomed, his voice a warm thing against the chill, autumn wind, "So Hercules did vow, so Hercules has done! It is good to see you again!" the rest was delivered without the verve of his salutation, no less warm but more of a inside-voice as he approached, arms flung wide in invitation!

Viola Fiore has posed:
Viola's eyes scan about the park. She's been here a few times before, but those were mostly before she started college. High schoolers killing time on the paths, riding bikes along trails or just enjoying the bit of greenery amidst the concrete of the city.

She is just looking back towards the path when she hears Hercules' booming voice. The young woman's face lights up and she rushes over to him, letting herself sink into the offered hug from the man who had interposed herself in the way of danger to save her life from the toppling monument.

"I'm glad you made it," she tells him warmly. "I've been looking forward to this all week," she admits with a little roll of her eyes as if thinking herself silly for it.

She glances around the park. "There are all sorts of trails and paths, statues and, well there's great flowerbeds but I don't know that they are blooming in this weather," she says of the Autumn day. "The oldest tree in the city is here as well. Not that, ah, that's probably that exciting given it's more than a thousand years younger than you," she says with a soft laugh.

Hercules has posed:
"As am I, as have I!" he answers, his arms having coiled around her. Warm, as if the air did not dare try to sap the heat from him, as if he had just stepped from a summers day. A minor perk of being who he was. The again, he would look just as nice in a pair of khakis and a turtle-neck sweater. Dadcules!

He didn't think her corny or cheesey. He squeezed, arms tightening around her with gentle strength! Thousands of years of friends with bruised ribs has allowed him to hone his might to the almost perfect hug!

He practiced, for a few years, on grizzlies! True Story! As true as any of his stories, at least.

He uncoiled her from his arms and offered her his elbow with a smile as she laid out the features and wonders of the park. "Never the less, that it would be quite the thing to see!" he agreed, "Perhaps it is the home of a dryad! That would be quite the discovery... but if she has not made herself known, I doubt she would deign to entertain the likes of Hercules!"

Viola Fiore has posed:
The young woman of Italian descent is happy to bury herself in that hug. "I don't know how you stay warm like this, but I sure wish I could. Though does that mean a nice warm fire at the end of the day isn't as perfectly amazing as it would be for those of us who get cold?" she asks the Olympian.

Viola takes his arm as they start to walk along one of the paths. There are some fitness stations for a stretch, but then they give way to nothing but beautiful views with some sculptures and other interesting things where the paths meet, sometimes opening up into larger areas with benches, playground equipment for kids, or grills for those out for a picnic.

The girl's hands are closed about his elbow as they walk along. "So are you here, in New York for the foreseeable future? Or... I really don't know how this works for you, Hercules. Do you go back to Mount Olympus in the evening somehow? Or do you have to get a dwelling as we do here?" she asks.

Hercules has posed:
"I pity any Man, God, Demon, or Monster that could not relish the warmth of a crackling fire amidst the chill of a northern fall and winter." he confides. He's spoiled, its unfair... but he is a God and there is little that can be done about it. Not nothing, mind you, but little still! His free hand gestured idly as he spoke, attention turning towards her here and there, his eyes wandering to the world around them but always returning before long.

He seemed at ease here, his ready smile seeming to rest more easily on his lips, broad shoulders slacking just so. She probed him with a question once more and as he spoke, he started to realize something.

"You needn't worry. I'll not be disappearing so quickly that you might think me a dream in years to come. Now is an age of Heroes and great deeds. I'll not be returning to Olympus for some time... nor leaving here. I have found myself a place to make home, old friends that afford me warm hospitality." What he came to realize as they walked and spoke... was that he fell too comfortably into an old habit. So well did he love himself that he neglected to share it with her.

"I will invite you there sometime, we shall have dinner!" it was meant as an invitation... but it seemed he had decided that it was already set in stone. "I recall you telling me of Columbia... I admit that I know not what you meant but I do know the shape of the thing that lays before you, a life to be made. What is it you want to do, Dear Viola? What dreams lay out there waiting for you to come and claim them?"

Viola Fiore has posed:
Viola Fiore walks along at Hercules' side, quite caught up in the conversation. The cool October winds blow with determination, swirling leaves of red and orange and yellow about their feet, sending them skittering down the paved paths and rolling across the yellowing grass.

"I would love to see it," she tells him, beaming a smile up at the immense man. "And I'm glad that you are not leaving soon. I can't say that our world is a better one, a kinder one, than yours might have been. But I hope that you find here some things that make it worth your while," she tells him. "If only saving damsels in crashing cars?"

A little grin is flashed up at him as they continue to meander through the walkways. The wind blows her hair about her, forcing her to tuck it back behind an ear to keep it from her face. "Columbia is a University, a place of education. We have schools until our 18th year, and then some go on to study at a college or university. Normally you choose a major, a field of study that you intend to go work in after. Which I did. Sociology, which is about becoming skilled in working with people, helping them deal with the troubles in their lives," she tells him. "I'm just not really sure how I want to apply it though."

Hercules has posed:
The Prince of Power fixed her with a smile, peering down at her as they walked. He listened and when she refered to their meeting, he laughed warmly. "It seems it was as much my good fortune as yours!" he confesses as they continue along.

University struck the proper cord! The son of an accomplished general, Hercules' education did not lack. Understanding flashes in his eyes, brows lofting as he nods along to her words, letting them take root, his gaze drifting forward along their path. "Sociology..." he echos. Were there a more worthy study, he had not heard of it. Should he ever hear of gastronomy or mixology, they may come into close contention, however.

"I can see well your plight. Having the desire to help but not yet knowing where to best apply yourself is a daunting position to be in." he empathizes as they go along. His arm flexes... this is meant as some kind of hug or comforting gesture but his muscles bulging with even a slight of exertion of their titanic power will always be a Flex. "Forgive me if these seem like platitudes but you will find it. Something will happen and you will feel as a fish taken to water. Every part of you will feel at ease and things will fall into place. That is not to say that it will be easy... A calling is rarely something that does not involve rigor or trial but you will know when it comes."

Viola Fiore has posed:
Viola slowly nods as if agreeing with Hercules' sentiment. "I sort of feel that way. Like... I'll know when the right thing is there," she says. "Admittedly, I'm a bit torn between the desire to help people and... well. I grew up in a fairly above average setting compared to many. And if I'm honestly with myself, I like that life. And sociologists don't usually make that kind of living either. So I find myself torn between a desire to help people, and wanting certain things in my life."

She looks up at Hercules as his arms give that little flex. Her hand slides just a bit higher from his elbow as if to sneak a bit of a feel of those corded muscles stretching. "I suppose you were pretty much set on a course? Or... does it just look that way in hindsight? I suppose I could be bound for all sort of things that would make it seem I was fated for something, when in the present... I'm just uncertain," she says as they walk along.

The wind continues blowing, A gust blows through the park, rattling the colorful leaves still on the trees, and over to the side someone's lost a hat which is blowing across the grass.

Hercules has posed:
The allure of comfort, Hercules knew it well. He sobered momentarily, nodding his understanding. How many choices had he made simply because it kept him in soft sheets and comely companions?

Her hands search and find what feels like steel cables wound together beneath his skin. Impossibly strong. Much of it might come from the blood of gods that courses through his veins but not all of it!

She posed a question and... it drew him short Was he on a set path...? Maybe a time will come when this idea is thought of with a more bitter mind... But now with a cold autumn that knifes through him, the chill sending a shivering thrill across his back that causes his shoulders to tremble. Branches rattle and leaves rustle and a hat flies from someone's head.

A small calamity if a calamity at all. A spilled drink or a dropped ice cream... But he felt the slightest pull, as if it were a string attached to his heart. A barely perceptible tug!

"Hold that thought..." like a dog that had spotted a squirrel, his eyes followed it.

His arm disentwined from hers and his large hand clapped her on the back. "A race!" he challenged.

He was off, long, powerful legs sped him along... after a hat in the wind... Because he is a hero.

Viola Fiore has posed:
The park has only a few people out today, scatter about enough that one might only see a few people around, or even none for some stretches of paths and walking trails. Up ahead the paved walkway they have been traveling most recently intersects another, creating a paved round area, ringed with benches around a statue of a man gesturing with one outstretched arm as if offering an opinion or perhaps more to someone else.

As Hercules races after the hat, the wind picks up, not just bouncing the hat across the ground, but causing it to lift into the air a foot or two at times before hitting back to the ground.

As Hercules moves to intersect it, the hat reaches the paved area. A strong gust hits it, the hat bouncing off a park bench and really catching the blowing wind then. It sails up into the air and hits the statue in the head. But rather than bounce off, the hat rolls around the statue's head three times, like a basketball reluctant to go into the hoop.

Rather than come to a stop on the statue's head, the hat blows off, falling to his arm and then rolling on edge along the outstretched arm, all the way to the statue's hand. There it stops as the wind flags, the hat coming to a stop on the statue's hand just as Hercules gets there to it.

Viola grins and walks over towards him. "That looked kind of cool," she tells him as she catches up to him.