4141/This is a Title

This is a Title
Date of Scene:	15 November 2020
Location:	3B - Alexander's Greenwich Loft
Synopsis:	Johanna asks invasive questions to Alex and learns that he is a moocher.
Cast of Characters:	Alexander Aaron, Johanna Mitchell

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Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Spraaaawled over the couch like some sort of wall walking wiggle, the plastic ones you buy from the grocery store and when you throw them against the wall they stick to it and sloooowly roll down and down until they hit the ground. Alexander lies on the couch like one of those wall wiggles, partially upside down, one leg over the back of it, his arms spread out, his head over the side of the couch so what he's watching is seen only from a rather sideways and off kilter angle.
    And what is it that he's watching in that Greenwich Apartment now shared with one Johanna Mitchell?
    It is nothing more than a POV video on a channel called SlowTV that does nothing but show point of view live streams of various vehicles throughout the world. Today it is a train traveling down the tracks on its way to Oslo in Norway. The landscape is beautiful, all brilliant visions of nature with the steady clack-clack clack-clack of the train driving down its tracks.
    Peaceful in its own way.
    Yet for a Sunday evening, it might seem fitting.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
     SLUMP!
    Something outside of the apartment hits door and slides. The metal handle begins to twist a little as a key is inserted. Then it moves fully as the locking mechanism clicks out of place. There is a moment of pause before the door swings open all the way and Johanna shifts through it with a gigantic box that is labeled Home Dept all over the sides. The sides are taped over with copious abouts of duct tape, keeping it nice and secure as she makes her way to the nearest table surface within the space to set the cumbersome container down.
    "Hey, Babe," she calls casually to the couch, running a hand through her short hair and then leaning an elbow on top of the box with an easiness. Her eyes glide toward the telly-tube and she watches for only a few seconds before her lips quirk in a way that is totally judgemental.
    "Aww, Babe, I didn't know you were going to be so bored without me or else I woulda' taken you with me."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Heeey." Alexander Aaron, God of Fear, Olympian Deity, pulls himself up into an impromptu ab crunch enough so he can look over and to the side toward Johanna's arrival and whatever bounty she has gained from her shopping trip. He cocks his head to the side and crinkles his nose at her, "This isn't boring."
    He lifts a hand and grabs the nearby remote getting it to pause the stream of the train drive. Just to make sure he doesn't miss /any/ of it.
    One leg shifts over to the back of the couch to join the first so he can sprawl to the side a litle more easily as he sees her. "It's very pretty. And relaxing." He offers, "A glimpse of peace before I return to the chaos of the city tomorrow." Because of classes assuredly.
    Then, almost with a hint of petulance he drops back down upside down and also adds the classic counter of, "You're boring!"
    Yeah. Yeah that one got her. Perfect comeback.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
     "That's the type of stuff they place in Doctor offices for people who are wigging out about getting heart palpatations or something," she counters, bemused as she stands there. She's wearing her own clothes this time, again. Nothing special. Workout clothes. A loose fitted tank-top over a sports bra and a thin fabric'd pair of shorts that barely come down an inch on her thighs, and because it's /cold/ outside, she's also wearing Alex's leather jacket on her arms. Because it looks cool. And she can.
    "Lame," she tells him about his come back. Her feet slip free of her sneakers and she abandons the box of taped goodies to walk over to the couch and lift a leg. She plants her foot square on his chest and leaaans into it, pinning his body down against the couch as she looks over the side of her knee at him. "Your comeback game is weak and you should feel bad."
    "Your uncle or whatever was on the news this morning. And your other girlfriend." Her foot wiggles, griiiiinding her heel down into his sternum. She wiggles her eyebrows at him at the same time.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    As for Alexander he's in much of what he wears /all/ the time, though inside this time of year he's still not wearing pants, still those grey sweat shorts he likes for when he's running around or working out, or in this case lazing about. Though he's changed his t-shirt from yesterday, this one is just a mustard yellow t-shirt that has an emblem of what looks like some kind of three-eyed alien rabbit on the front, no logo or text otherwise.
    And it's right there square in the middle of the alien rabbit's face that Johanna plants her foot as he liiiies there, crinkling his nose up toward her with a hint of defiance as he waves a hand, "Hercules?"
    He asks that with some hint of curiousity but then shifts back into his more normal Alexish manner. "He's not so bad. Kind of a dork, but nice. My dad /hates/ him." Which is very true, his dad does very much hate him.
    But then he moves on to the second point of contention she offers and he makes a face even as Johanna pushes her luck dangerously with the grinding footness. "She's not my girlfriend, bet you she won't even call me back." That said he gives a nod and then reeeaches over for the remote control again, grabbing it and then clicking the television back to life.
    /clack-clack clack-clack/ Is heard in the background as the train continues.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    "Hunkules," she corrects him, and she digs the heel of her foot ever more into that alien rabbit face, either blatantly ignorant of the danger or purposely trying to poke a bear.
    Whether or not he'll realize she's quoting that Disney movie at him...
    "Why would your dad hate him? Isn't he the type of guy that a god of war should love?"
    Then he moves on, and she lets her foot off of his chest. She meanders off to the kitchen, opening up the fridge to grab herself one of his bottled waters. It's quickly uncapped and she gulps down a few mouthfuls before she puts the cap back on the bottle. "I went back home to grab some things," she explains from the kitchen, calling out and over the clack-clack-clacks of a train making its way across the telly-screen. "I figured you wouldn't mind if I brought a few more things over... Least I continue to just exist in your clothing."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "That's fine," She'll hear from over on the couch, "Bring whatever. I don't have anything more than what you see here." Though there are a few odd doodads here and there. Nothing too out of the ordinary, though. The most interesting things were in his bedroom with the sword stand, a glass ball with some papers inside of it like a piggy bank, some old torn off tickets that were left in a glass ash tray. Incidental things that carry one through life. But the rest of the apartment, bare.
    Then he /rolllls/ over on the couch and crawls to the end of the sofa now able to see her in the kitchen as she digs around in there. "So long as you don't go overboard and girl up the place." His lip's already twisting as he says that, smiling at the likely reaction he's to get with his own provoking of the bear as it were.
    One elbow rests on the arm of that sofa, now propping his chin up as he lets his gaze remain on her. "But yeah. I think it stems from Hercules being the product of an affair, and an insult to Hera. And dad sort of thinks it was a shitty thing to do to her." A small shrug is given.
    "Or could be that they just don't get along."

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    "What, you don't wanna wake up to frilly pink comforters and couch pillows?" She saunters back into the living room, water acquired, bending down half-way through point a to point b to hook her finger into her socks and discard them, so that her feet are bare.
    She mounts the couch on the opposite side, walking around him to do so. Her feet slide up onto of his legs and she pushes one up to his hands with a silent command that he begin rubbing it. She's done it enough times to him by now that he should know exactly what that movement is all about, and if he dares to ignore her, she kicks his hand--lightly!--but she kicks it all the same. "What was that movie... With Matthew McConkyhay, and that realy pretty blonde chick? How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days... " Her lips take on an absolutely /wicked/ grin and she lines it up with him while her tones give a self-delighted wiggle. "I mean, I've already gotten the pet thing, the moving in early thing, bringing my stuff up to 'girly' your place so to speak. Really now I just gotta walk in on you and your friends and tell them what a great fuck buddy you are to really get things going, because I'm running behind on the checklist."
    But then it shifts from that, to talking about his family, and she snuggles her shoulders into the arm of the chair to get comfortable, all cozied up in his leather jacket. "And your dad is who you're worried I'll sleep with?? Or is Zeus everyone's freebie?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A snort is given as he rolls over to more directly face the intruder who has clearly broken into his home and who clearly no police force in the world would convict if he threw her out the window, assuredly! Yet he smirks as she pushes that foot at him and he sort of rests a hand on it, denying her that attention for now while he chats with.
    "I have not seen that movie. And now I kinda don't wanna."
    But the other things he sort of lets slide for now at least, making a face as he lounges there, instead he focuses on the thing that clearly squicks him the most. "I'm not worried, that's just super ew." And he makes a face rather sharply there, "I mean hell, would you want to sleep with someone who slept with your mom?"
    Only then does he sit up moreso like a normal human, but still with his back to the arm of the sofa.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    Johanna's nose crinkles and her eyes slide toward the wall. For just the briefest moment his words call up imagery. Imagery which her brain subjects her too. And with a shudder, she raises the back of her tongue up into the roof her mouth and makes the official 'gag' face, followed with a 'Hurk,' sound.
    "Aleeeeeex," her foot shifts against his rested hand. Making it bob. Insistency!
    "I mean. I dunno. Isn't it different for you Olympians? Practically your entire family is bottlenecked to some degree. Are there any here in town that you're not directly related to?" And then her brows furrow for a moment, as her eyes look down toward her chest and she seems to consider something quietly.
    "Is it weird to talk about meeting each others family yet?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Hands flared in a look of innocence as if she forced him to reveal that imagery, Alexander shakes his head, "Hey, not my fault. You pushed my hand, you suffer the consequences." Like when she so rudely keeps pushing her foot at him, but at least on that he acquiesces as he covers that foot and starts to dig his thumb gently into the arch, starting a casual massage to accompany their conversation.
    "And, yeah sometimes, somewhat different for Olympians in that... well we're mostly assholes. And there are some family members that think it's ok to sleep with other family members." He pushes a hand through his hair and scritches at the back of his neck, "Though it's more that that's like... a part of those people in some ways. Their idiom." A small shrug is given.
    "As for meeting family." He makes a face, nose crinkling in that way of consternation he has. "I think you'll be happy to not meet my family as long as you possibly can. Once you do things change."

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    Once he finally submits to her demands, the dark-skinned beauty gives a soft, happy little, 'Mmmmm,' that sounds more like a purr than not. The arch of her foot is warm against the circling pad of his thumb. A little hard on the heel from an active life, but that arch feels soft into his finger press. His reward? He gets a smile from his girlfriend. Not just any smile. It's one of those smiles that makes the whole room feel just a bit more home-y to exist within. She knows how to be eyecatching when she wants to be.
    "How do they change?" The question comes softly, a cajoling audial silk specifically engineered to make him more forthcoming with the deets.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A deep breath is taken as Alexander seems to consider exactly what that entails. Those hazel eyes slip to the side as he continues to lightly press gently on her foo, just taking his time and letting his thoughts drift in reflection.
    "Well," Again with the nose crinkle. "Once you get on their radar, then they'll likely start to bother you. And then they'll start to try and use you. And if you say or do something that they construe as an insult, then they'll try and 'get you back' even though they're the assholes that tend to start things."
    He slides one leg up on the couch and lifts hers over it, crinkling his nose. "Imagine the worst part of grade school politics between petulant children. Now make them immortal and give them nothing else to do for that whole time except remembering sleights and grudges from that time. That's how life is for most of them."
    He waves a hand to the side, "Like right now I wouldn't be surprised if some of them were watching this conversation and angrily scribbling notes while silently seething. Only thing that might stop them from being assholes is that they're afraid of me and my dad and what we might do in reprisal."

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    Her legs shift the extra inch or so needed to allow his leg room to extend underneath hers. It's a cozy affair. All they really need now is a blanket to share and they'd be ready to watch boring ass trains for the rest of the night. Honestly, it looks more like a screensaver for his TV than it looks like actual television. It provides that same sort of quiet backdrop for the room that, say, the babbling of a brook could provide. A stream of backnoise.
    She LOOKS like she's about to say something when he says that they're assholes that start things. She has to roll her lips in together, and curl her toes to keep from saying it, bringing about delineation of muscle up her lengthy legs. The girl's got meat on them, but there's feminine allure to them too, the way they swell together.
    "The more and more you talk about them really does remind me of that Disney movie," she grins, and then she sighs, folding her hands against her covered stomach and tilts her head back, so that she's looking at his ceiling. "I don't know. I guess I still feel a little detatched about the whole you-being-a-deity thing. For the most part. And then sometimes I look at you and I remember and it's like... Hm. Mmm. Yeah." She is quiet for a second but the tendons along her neck continue to move with the subtle movement of her jawline. "I'm kinda surprised they don't try to arrange for you who to date and all that jazz... of course, I guess in the grand scheme of things, dating mortals is like... blinking your eyes."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The youth frowns a little, his thoughts turning inwards for a moment as he shifts his attention to the side. It's clear the topic isn't something he enjoys going into, and then he murmurs quietly. "I could show you. Manifest. But being who I am, that is never a good thing, and leaves everyone who sees me as seeing something different, but horrible. Always something horrible."
    A deep breath is taken as he frowns and pushes a hand through his hair, eyes distancing as he considers. "And yah if things were different a lot of them would have more of a hand in how things were going for me. Or I wouldn't even be allowed to live my life here. But one of the conditions my father made when he agreed to fight for Olympus, was that if they won then none of them were allowed to interact in my life. Unless I asked for their aid. Still, even with that condition they still try to finagle ways around it."
    Considering some of the things that have happened in the past, their finagling can often be rather terrible.
    "Maybe eventually I'll start to feel the years blend together. But right now I feel like my perception of time is still mortalish."

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    Her chin lowers. Her dark, coal eyes seek his out and settle on him. At the same time, she slides her foot free from his hand, and stuffs both of her feet between his hip and the couch. "What does it feel like for you?" she asks. "When you manifest? Do you feel any different or is it just... natural, like flexing to feel your own muscles?" She sucks the inside of her cheek against ther teeth and she looks to the fabric of the couch, and her eyes shift a little, as though she were reading something in the fabric. "Honestly, it... "
    She pauses, mouth partially opened to speak. Something has caught her up. And then she seems to find the thread of her words again. "I wouldn't want to ask you to show me just to show me. That feels... disrespectful somehow. But... I don't know. It's kind of occurring to me about... Hm. Well, like, for training." She shrugs her shoulders to invoke an air of purposeful casualness. "You know?"
     As he considers the involvement of his family in his life, rather the lack of, a smile graces her face again and her eyes shine with it. "Good on your dad. Fuck'em. Not literally, but fuck'em. No one needs that toxicity in their life, especially when they're just trying to live and have fun."
    She sits up momentarily, her hands falling in between her thighs as she does. The distance between them is closed already by their legs, but this has her sitting up somewhere mid-way in the couch rather than leaned back all the way onto the opposite arm. "So like. How does the aging work. Am I going to have hot arm candy in my 50's?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Ah, it's..." Alexander meets her gaze, but only holds it for a moment, turning his head away as his brow knits. "It's like letting go. Like as if you'd forgotten how to breathe and took your first breath in ever." One hand lifts as he then casually pats her leg, then shifts his hand to pick at the small strands and tiny bits of debris on the couch seat. He tosses a stray bit of dust onto the floor and then looks away toward the window, eyes narrowing as if viewing far off.
    "And no, you shouldn't ever see me like that." That tone of voice, it's sharp and severe. "It's not something you can imagine you're ready for. So many people have told me that they can handle it, or they should be exposed to it so they know just in case. No. It's not a good idea ever."
    He looks back at her, frowning as he murmurs, "There was this guy. He... his family was killed. And he was out to make the killers pay. And I met him, when I was younger. And he felt truly he had nothing to fear, since he'd already lost everything. But that wasn't true. When he saw me, /really/ saw me, he fell in on himself, collapsed when he saw what he was really afraid of. And it almost killed him."
    Alexander pushes a hand through his hair, leaving his hand on the top of his head as he frowns.
    But then he says, likely still distracted as he murmurs, "We seem to stop aging when we hit our thirties, so far as I've observed. Grandpa sometimes looks older but I think it's because his hair is white-ish. Sometimes."

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    Johanna is patient, giving him the time to think. Speak. Even to pick at the couch and pull off a little dustball. Sitting up, she leans into the back of the couch, catching her forehead with her hand, and keeping her eyes on his even he diverts his attention to other spots. She only deigns to speak again after he's recounted his experience with this other person at a younger age, "Hey... It's okay. I'm not going to ask you to jump and do it on the spot." She reaches a hand forward and touches her palm. Her thumb slides over the prominence of his cheekbone, and she holds the contact there for a few moments, small offer of affection. And then in a small whisper, "I wanna' tell you how you've had such a rough life, babe, but I feel like anything I can utter in sentence or word is just going to be this massive understatement. Would break a helluva lotta people, myself included. Last thing I'm gunna ask you to do is something that will make you feel that type of way."
    She smiles as he mentions the matter of his age. Not one of 'em smiles that reaches her eyes but it turns her lips prettily enough. A return to a light subject! "Eternal hotness isn't such a bad pay off for being consigned to assholery for the end of days."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "It's nothing bad really, ultimately." Alexander does not continue the topic of said hotness, his thoughts more upon the prior topic so he addresses it. "Sure I've been through some rough things, but compared to what really? And do I have any real reason to complain?" He shakes his head as he answers his own questions.
    "Oh boohoo, my childhood sucked. Says the immortal anthropomorphic representation of the cultural zeitgeist." He scoffs a little, but smiles sidelong at her. "Anyways..."
    That last word is spoken with a broad vowel sounds, letting it linger as if he was pronouncing an end to the topic. "So yeah, when I get thirty or so I should stop aging." He lifts his shoulders, then lowers them. "Though..." The youth tilts his head to the side, "I know Hermes is often younger. But then again he also seems able to change his shape pretty easily. So who knows?"

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    "Compared to what? Baby, compared to just about anyone..." She takes her bottom lip between her teeth. And she might have left it at that before he starts doing the scoff thing, and propels her forward. Her knees bend, her legs curl off of his from their spot on the sofa, and she closes the distance between them. Her dark hands frame his face on either side and she tilts his head down so that she can brush her lips against his. It's a soft touch that ends by her nipping his bottom tier and dragging away from him a scant inch to give them room to speak.
    "It did," she tells him, spearing a look into his gold flecked hazel eyes. At this proximity, and this lighting, it's possible to make out the separation between pupil and iris of her own eyes. That they're not just completely black, but contain a honeyed, warm depth of a dark brown. "It really sucked, Alex."
    One of her hands shift from his cheeks. It strokes into his blonde hair. Soft, sweet pulls that contain just the faintest rake of nails.
    More clack-clack-clacks can be heard as the train continues to truck it on his TV. All of thrill, riveting action of watching cement set in.
    She lets him change the topic, but she doesn't have anyhting more to add. Nor does she get off of him. Rude! She remains in the same proximity, though she shifts, leaning her arm off of his shoulder rather than the couch itself. She continues to stroke his hair, because it feels nice, the texture somewhat different from her own coarse hair. "Your turn," she murmurs after a time. "To ask me the weird awkward and invasive questions."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Curled up close he seems inclined to leave himself there, just them entwined and with the SlowTV playing in the background. She touches his face, has him meet her eyes and he exhales a nother breath that might be a laugh if he gave it more of a go instead he just lets the moment hang there...
    Until she asks him to ask awkward invasive questions. "Oh right, my turn huh?" His nose crinkles again and thankful perhaps for this chance at returning to some hint of normalcy he lifts a hand to gently squeeze the nape of her neck and stroke softly while his thoughts wander.
    "Well, I don't know. I sort of feel that eventually, when you're ready, what you want me to know you'll show me, or tell me somehow."
    He looks toward the window and asks, "I don't know, would you want to travel to Norway with me and ride some trains, just to see if it's like that?" His lips twist as he motions to the television.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    "Mmm, your turn," she confirms softly.
    The back of her neck is warm beneath his fingers, and she does the girly thing, of leaning her head back into the webbing of his fingers with her shoulders all rolled and everything, grinning contently. "It's difficult," she admits. "Ya' kinda spend your whole life boring people with the same story. At some point you realize that nobody cares and that some people prefer it when you keep up the ~allure~ of mystery. So I'm never quite sure when it's appropriate or 'cool' or natural to start sharing."
    The TV is given a glance as he gestures to it, with the sort of quick snap that sends a lock of dark hair into her eyes. Alex is then given a sidelong glance that looks mighty skeptical. She shifts a hand through her bangs, drawing them free from her eyes as she considers it. In a voice that is somewhere between a tease, and a sincere question, as though both tickled and taken aback, she asks, "You wanna' take me on a date to Norway?"
    A hint of a flush starts to darken her cheeks.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "That could be fun, couldn't it?" Alexander asks as he looks back at her with a wry smile. "I mean, sometime when we have time. I just know there are..." He looks across the way at the television and motions with the remote, "Places I haven't seen or had the time to explore, and for all I know does Norway even really exist or is it just a conspiracy of cartographers?"
    At that his lip twists a little and he nods and kisses one of those darkening cheeks. "But sure. We can make plans. Take a boat or something, or a jet. I think my dad knows a guy..." Alexander's thoughts distance as he starts to consider the logistics.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    "Yeah, it could be fun," Johanna agrees, nodding with her eyes downcast thoughtfully. And then she seems to double-think her response because she bobs her eyes up to Alexander's again and widens her grin by like ten times. "Like, really fun! I'm not sure if I've ever considered Norway before as a place I'd like to go to--I'm honestly not even sure what Norway does?? Except they got all them rock metal bands, apparently. Makes me wonder exactly about the type of culture that produces that. Like, what are they doing to their kids?" The Alexander pings her with that gem of a line and she is hit with the giggles to the point of curling over, with a hand wrapped around her mouth to muffle them partially. "Yeah, and FINLAND--we gotta track to Finland while we're at it, and--"
    His lips touch her cheek, and it's like activating magic vision. Those rose colored glasses are on. She could probably sit like that for a long while and be perfectly content, even watching SlowTV. "I'd like that," she murmurs in response. "Which is funny, I guess. It's not like this already isn't some kind of... holiday in itself. Shacking up with some rich deity boy in his private suite. But telling New York to fuck itself for a few weeks would be kinda' fun... and /risque/."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "I'm not rich," Alexander warns her as he lifts a fingertip, "My dad's rich. I'm just a big moocher." Which he says with a solemn nod as he then steals another smooch to her cheek as he pushes himself to his feet, getting up a little woozily as he'd been sitting there for a /good/ chunk of time.
    "I." He announces, "Am gonna go hop in the shower. Think of where you want to go get dinner? I have his desire to go out, but not too far." He turns and starts to wander toward the hallway that least back toward the bedroom, the gym, and that large bathroom.
    "But you had better have some really good ideas or heaven help you!" He offers that casual threat as he strolls, his voice at the end taking on a stern dour tone dropping a few octaves as he threatens her with a shaken fist over his shoulder.