4419/Oh hai!

Oh hai!
Date of Scene:	16 December 2020
Location:	Greenwich Village
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Ares, Johanna Mitchell, Thor

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Ares has posed:
Their meeting had been by chance but when two gods met up after a few centuries, it required catching up. And alcohol. Extreme amounts of alcohol.

Thor and John Aaron had agreed to meet at a local place which was one known to John, though not one he frequented a lot. He didn't want his work friends showing up and having a bit of a moment over their foreman having a beer with /the/ God of Thunder.

John was standing on the corner, a bomber style jacket on. The leather was old, cracked, showing it was something he likely had all his life. Or perhaps longer for those in the know. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets. Jeans covering his legs, heavy steel-toed work boots since they were what he was used to. Beneath that jacket was a simple blue t-shirt.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    Brrrr.
    It's chilly time!
    The majority of people know to dress for the elements around this time. There's the stray teen or kid that makes the unfortunate and masochistic choice to forgo jeans in favor of something like shorts, but those days for Johanna were far, far away. She's bundled up when she steps into the out doors with a padded winter coat, knit mittens and a matching hat. There's a poof ball on the top and everything. Sturdy leggings wrap her legs and her feet are comfortably wrapped in boots trimmed with faux fur.
    Her plan is simple. Go about the Village. Fetch presents for loved ones. Acquire things to wrap with. Maybe enjoy some holiday lights. It wasn't necessarily a trip she wanted to make alone, but it made things more simple in the long run. Besides. It meant she could mosey and take her time without hassle.
    And it's in thinking about which places she'll hit up first that she comes upon the very corner that John is standing at. To her, he's just a broad-fitted man in a jacket waiting about. Possibly for cross-walk lights. But when she's abreast of him, she double-takes, glancing up the height of him with furrowed brow, and her lips perched on the verge of saying something... To thinking better of it, because starting off with, 'Hey Mister Aaron,' is just lame... And then to saying something again as she raises a mittened hand beckoningly. "Sooo. I take it that flight just doesn't run in certain families?" She offers him a familiar, toothy grin after.

Ares has posed:
At the voice, John looks over and down to the familiar face with the bright smile. "Johanna." The voice isn't the imposing one she heard when he first spoke at the apartment. Less gravitas. It is simply a deep baritone that could befit any man, particularly one of his size. He's human, after all. Right?

"I suspect flight runs in all families. Some simply are better equipped and don't have to rely on airplanes and the like to carry them aloft," he returns. Then his grin turns a bit wicked, mischief in his eyes. "Have you begun to relax again? Or still checking every cabinet in case cousins appear?"

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    "That's me," the darker-skinned woman beams a grin up at John. Even in the light her eyes are dark. Coal-like. But they glisten slightly in the cold, the sudden snap from being in a warm place and then abruptly not a dramatic one for the human body to endure.
    And she's all warm grins, to the counter-point and all, until he mentions her checking the cabinets. It dissolves to a flat look and moodily she jams her mittened hands into the pockets of her jacket, but in such a manner that keeps the jacket stretched with tension across the front panels. "The joke is on them if they reappear," she murmurs after a moment, twisting her chin away as her dark eyes focus out on the street ahead of them distantly. "They won't get past the baby locks I'm installing.
    "So, what's in store for you at the Village today? Or... wait, I guess you probably have a place nearby in the area, huh?" She glances once direction and then the other. Idle movement but one might imagine she's trying to scope out exactly which one of these buildings that John might have set up shop in.

Thor has posed:
    The place that Thor stood before had been designated and the meet had been arranged. It took some effort, to be fair, for the Asgardian to commit the place to memory for so many of the bars and pubs of Manhattan have so much similar between them. Not that that is a complaint nor a drawback, for the things they have in common are quite agreeable with the Thunderer. It's just recalling their so many names can be a hassle.
    But here, on the stoop of Mickey's in Greenwich, /here/ assuredly was the place he had been called to share some time with an old ally and at points adversary. At least he thinks it was here.
    For when we join the Strongest Avenger he does seem to fit well and fit in with the Midgardians. Garbed in a similar way as John at least passingly so. The two if taken in at a glance might well be considered co-workers for they both have those work boots, sturdy blue jeans, a t-shirt. But Thor does not have a bomber jacket, nor really much of a jacket at all. He wears a blue over-shirt with a red flannel lining that hangs loose upon his broad chest, unbuttoned as if daring the might of Winter to do something to inconvenience him. Though at the moment what he most markedly wears is a look of mild confusion on his brow as he stands in front of the door to Mickey's, eyes lifted to the sign that puzzlement clear on his brow. With his blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail he could pass easily for just about anyone in New York's crowd. If only he weren't so tall. And that physique, to be fair.
    After a moment he steps to the side and withdraws a cellphone from his pocket, trying to swipe it to life with the brush of a thumb... twice... three times. Until finally he activates it and starts to gingerly page through some of its features looking likely for the note he wrote himself.

Ares has posed:
"Baby locks. I should have thought of that centuries ago. I am sure it will prove effective against our family." He says it so dryly, he has to be serious. Can't be kidding, teasing, making another joke. Because this is her dealing with the crazy of their family. The crazy life she accepted upon accepting Alexander as what he is. It was a lot for people to deal with. It took a phenomenally strong person to do so.

Of course if she was going to last in their family, she'd have to get used to it. Or she might run for the hills screaming at the top of her lungs with arms flailing above her head like that alien in that movie with the kid and bicycle.

"I do not have a place here. I am actually meeting a friend. Speaking of." He raises his voice and his hand in the air. "Thor! Over here!" He is two doors down at Mikey's. Sooooo close.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    "Don't worry, big man, they were only recently made in like the last fifty years or something," Johanna cheeks back, getting back some of her pep now that it's had a chance to sink in what sort of betrayal went on. "And it was rotten of Alex to tell you about me searching the cupboards. But he'll get his."
    Is she worried about being apart of the crazy family? Probably. But at least she hasn't taken off running yet.
    While John calls to his friend, a hand removes itself from her pocket, lessening some of the tension within her jacket. The other soon follows suit and she readjusts the cozy little hat that sits atop her head. Some inky bangs are shifted more so to one side than the other across her eyes as she does. And it's about at that time that the crosswalk lights up, indicating a clear path through traffic.
    "Have fun, Mr. Aaron," Johanna calls over her shoulder as she starts to walk out onto the street. "And throw one back for me. See you!"
    Unseen and unheard by either of them, and almost immediately as Johanna crosses in front of an avenue of braked cars waiting for her and others to finish passing in front, the brunette immediately begins replaying the conversation in her head. Multiple times! Only to go on about her day occupied with what would have been a better comeback.

Thor has posed:
    Perhaps John meant to have the impact he did, or perhaps it was an innocent mistake. Whatever it was, however, the consequences are the same. For when the tall man lifts his voice and waves and calls out 'Thor!' it causes no small handful of people to look first to the caller, then to who he is waving towards, and then for a series of double takes to be made.
    For really there is only one Thor of some prominence in the current zeitgeist of Mortaldom. And the deal is sealed when the tall blond man waves back and lifts his voice. Then when instead of hi he says, "Greetings!"
    That's when all the cellphones come out. Videos are taken, photos snapped, and people start to murmur that low level murmur crowds make when something has occurred and drawn their attention. And that just gets Thor to smile and nod with greetings to those who wave at him even as he starts to make his way over to Mikey's. Only now there's suddenly a crowd between him and Ares, though he does a good job of wending his way through.

Ares has posed:
Sadly, while John did have his own secret identity, others did not follow suit. Thor was the prime example. He simply was. Perhaps another time he may have had another name he used but John wasn't aware of it to use.

Thus, the circus started. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. Not that Thor wouldn't be recognized inside the pub. He most certainly would be.

"You seem to have a few fans," John murmured with a smile as his old friend approached.

Thor has posed:
    Having navigated through the crowd he pauses to slap an hand upon the other man's shoulder and Thor smiles with a nod. "A few, perhaps. Though, could merely be the time of the season for much of this world still honors mine father with their holiday of the solstice." Which might be a small misunderstanding, but also might not be as well.
    Another slap to the big man's shoulder then he rounds, sparing a smile for this person or that, even as he makes his way gesturing for clearance, stepping past people and giving waves and even a single thumbs up to one given to him by a child. It does slow their approach to the bar, until finally...
    They're through the door and inside, free of the brisk chill in the air though it likely did not bother either of the two of them. Yet Thor does stomp his boots a bit to loosen some of the snow from the grooves of the sole. "Ah, I do enjoy this time of year. Come. What will you be drinking?" As he asks this he moves down the aisle between tables in Mikey's bar, which is fairly busy with its very New York sports flavor of decor, luckily within nobody really has noticed Thor. At least unless some people from without wander in after them.

Ares has posed:
Perhaps those fans outside got their fill. Or caught on that Thor was doing something. Or perhaps they just had their own things to focus on. It was the holidays after all, with 10 days left before the big day for many of those people. Thus, they remained outside and didn't follow, giving the pair privacy.

John followed suit, stomping his boots on the mat at the entrance for just that reason. Then he worked his way through the crowd to find an empty booth. After all, the booths were sturdier than some of the chairs. After all, those tables might not support the weight of the more dense Asgardian and Olympian anatomy.

"Something strong. Whiskey. Bourbon. A few kegs. It has been too long since we have shared a drink. I doubt they have mead up to our standards."

Thor has posed:
    "'Tis perhaps good that they do not," Thor says as he slides into the booth, easing into place with his hands curled around the table's edge even as he looks off across the room, then smiles openly as he catches the eye of the server, giving them a nod just to let them know they are there. As if anyone could miss the two large men taking that place of some prominence in the first of the booths.
    Turning back to the man Thor lifts his chin, "For in times past when we have clashed it has been due to too much drink." His lip twists.
    Letting a breath go in something almost a sigh he adds, "Though e'er it has been for the Greeks, unable to hold their liquor assuredly. So much so they granted one of their own brethren the office of God of Wine if only so they would have someone to pray to while in their cups."

Ares has posed:
That earns the arching of a brow from John Aaron. "Here I believed our conflicts were based on you being like your hammer -- large in size but dense." He tapped the side of his temple with a large forefinger to be sure Thor knew where such denseness lay. But he was grinning so there was no offense in his manner.

Thor was likely right they should avoid drinking too much. The neighborhood didn't need that sort of destruction.

"We do not pray to him while drinking. He simply makes sure we don't run out and have to go pillaging every other country in the quest for something worth drinking, such as the Norse seemed wont to do."

The server arrived, a petite woman probably in her thirties that worked too hard and didn't get enough tips but liked her job and the variety of people she got to meet. No notepad in her hand. She was far beyond that at his point. "What'll you ha--You're. You're Thor. I..." She stared a moment, looking at John as though wondering if he was an Avenger too. Seeing no one she knew, he was dismissed and her eyes went back to Thor.

"What can I get you?" And somehow the way she said made 'you' singular instead of plural.

Thor has posed:
    "Ah, so he is your... sommelier," And in that moment there's a pride in Thor's bearing, pleased with himself at using such a rather precise word for such a thing as is unknown in the lands of Asgard. For wine is not of such prominence, and one who focuses so on wine... well a profession unheard of.
    "Or barkeep. I see!"
    But then the server wandered her way over and stood there beside the table, then answered her declaration of his identity with one of his own. "Indeed, I am." Said with such pride and aplomb, as if the natural state of the universe this was.
    "We would have..." A quick look toward Ares as Thor raises his eyebrows. "Your best whiskey, and some of your... chicken..." Leaning over he looks at the small appetizer menu that stands straight up in the air held by a small twisted bit of wire, "Chicken planks." There, he nods at that.

Ares has posed:
"Planks?" John actually leans over to look at the menu, brow furrowed in consternation. "They actually call them that." He seems shocked as he looks from the menu to the server, as though she might explain this.

She doesn't bother. "Whiskey and planks. Got it." She tries to get back to professionalism and not fangirl right there on the spot. She gives a nod then glances over to John.

"Whiskey as well. And the ...what does that have to do with being a burger?" he askes in confusion, pointing to the One-Eyed Willy that was listed. "And why is your chicken served in planks?"

"Mikey's place. He loved the Goonies."

That gets a blank stare from John then a shake of his head. "Cheeseburger. Loaded."

She nods, gives a last glance at Thor, then is off to the kitchen.

Leaving John to focus back on his companion. No one is close enough to overhear so they can talk openly. "I have wondered often why you chose to join a team of heroes here on Midgard?"

Thor has posed:
    "Ah, well as to that." Thor straightens in his seat a little and then leans in. "I did not 'choose' them, you approach the matter from the wrong direction to start." The Asgardian so lectures the Greek even as he shakes his head a little. "More I am fortunate enough to have them wish for me to be of what aid I can to them. Though, to be fair, it is quite a large amount of aid. Very large."
    A nod is given.
    "Yet I have e'er been taken with the people of Midgard. Since the days of my youth, and now to see how far they have come, what has preyed upon them and what they have endured, they are a singular people."
    The blond deity lifts a hand to push fingers through his hair as he can then adjusts the small leather strip that has his hair bound back. "During the war I considered many of them my friends. But that was a hard time." So hard perhaps explaining why he had left at the conclusion of it. And had not been back save until recently.

Ares has posed:
"Very large. Without you, they would be reliant upon others far less worthy for their strength. Though I do not speak ill of the Hulk, he is not on your level." At least John seems to get who is the strongest Avenger, even if others do not! "Though you do choose to remain," he adds for his rebuttal or defense, if it could be seen as such. "You could have allied with them and moved on to other things."

The admission of Thor's being taken with Midgard gets a nod from the other man. "I have learned move of this in my time living among them. I have always known their strength and resiliance. But over the decades, I have learned they have far more depth of character than I realized."

He watches as Thor tames his mane a bit. It makes him self consciously rub at his head which has just a touch of stubble atop it, preferring to keep it cut short. At least he has moved out of his mohawk stage. Unless he opts to adopt it when going into battle but that brings them to talk of war. "It often is. But those we lose should be celebrated, not mourned. They died in the glory that is battle, giving themselves to save others. There is nothing more worthy of admiration." Spoken by the god of such things.