5545/Meanwhile, at the hospital .... memory issues pop up.

Meanwhile, at the hospital .... memory issues pop up.
Date of Scene:	11 March 2021
Location:	Angelo's Carriage House
Synopsis:	Reunited with memory gaps. Fun, but still a pseudo-homecoming!
Cast of Characters:	Sara Pezzini, Achilles

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Sara Pezzini has posed:
The doctor's never fully explained what happened, only that Sara had been with them for a few weeks. In the beginning she barely remembered anything, but over time most things came back. She knew her name, occupation, about the bracelet around her wrist and what it meant. She could remember the faces of her co-workers, and put names to those faces, recall cases years old with relative ease, but there were still massive gaps. Looking at Angelo, she knew his face and his demeanor, she could call up images of his smile and voice, who he really was, and that there was a bond there, a very close one. Try as she might however, nothing else came to her.

Released from the hospital the only address she knew to go to was his. She told the cab where to take her, and like all New York city cab drivers, the insanity of traffic ensued. The entire ride she wracked her brain, looking for more hints as to what had happened, but the doctors had said she might never remember. That was unacceptable. She had to remember, just had to.

Paying the cab driver, and giving a tip, she looked at the carriage house for a moment, then walked to the front door and knocked. It just felt right to knock.

Achilles has posed:
    Having checked in on Sara when she was in the hospital, Angelo was assured that she was getting the best care available. In fact, he assisted with the cost of the treatment. We all know that New York City Employees don't get enough insurance to cover more than the most basic care. He didn't help to get some sense of power over her.
    To clarify, there was a bit of pain in his eyes when it was revealed that she did not remember the intimacy and total connection that the two of them shared... but Angelo has seen strange things. Lots of them. He also knows how to play the long game. So, he knew better than to try to push. He just made inquiries softly about the blade and when he left, he made arrangements for a 'charity organization' to help donate money to the medical care of several of New York's Finest who were currently receiving medical care. No sense in making her feel obligated or whatnot.
    Either way, he went home and cleaned up. And by that, I mean he removed signs that she had been more than just a friend who visited from time to time. All of that evidence is boxed up in storage. Again, no sense making her uncomfortable when she shows up to visit.
    But the knock at the door catches him off guard. He was trying his hand at painting again. He's trying to get better at things that don't involve combat and killing. But... Bob Ross he is not. A half-finished (and terrible) painting of a bowl of fruit on his table rests on the easel, and he has paint on his hands as he steps over and opens the door. At least he's dressed, right?
    Okay, so cargo shorts and a tie-dyed teeshirt count, don't they?
    When he opens the door, his eyes light up for just a moment, before he tamps that down internally. Out loud, he says, "I believe you should still have a key to the front door." in that voice of his that sounds like it is almost completely over the Queen's English accent he's been overcoming for some time. That sort of thing happens when you spend six centuries living in England.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
A smile touches Sara's face, that shows in her eyes as well. She was happy to see a familiar face, because it meant she /remembered/ that face. "I do?" She offers with a hint of confusion, then reaches into her pocket to pull out the keyring to hold up and examine. "There are three keys on here, I remember none of them fully. I think I have a car some place, this one," she reveals one of the three, clearly a car key. "Indicates I do. I wasn't certain of the other..."

Stopping mid-sentence she looks back up at him, the smile phasing to concern. "I, didn't know where else to go." She finally admits bluntly. "I should have called, you look... painted." Okay, so perhaps not all the words that pass through her head need to be verbalized. "Should I come back?"

Achilles has posed:
    Smirking, Angelo shakes his head and gets out of the way, "No, please come in. If you have a key, that means that you are -always- welcome here. I know that you do not recall, but I gave you that key and told you that this was a safe place that you could come to whenever the need arose." A pause and he adds, "I presume your apartment is now rented to someone else."
    But he gestures inside and says, "The guest room, as always, is ready and waiting for you. Please... coffee? Beer?" he asks as he steps back from the door and walks past that horrible painting he was butchering. He pauses to look at it and cringes, "Please be gentle." he says with a gesture to it, "No matter how much I try, I can't seem to get this down. Battle? Easy. Painting? Impossible." he says as he shakes his head and moves towards the kitchen.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
With a hint of nervousness, Sara follows him into the house and closes the door behind her. Things feel familiar, some even look familiar, but in her mind it is like reaching through thick pea soup to grasp at the knowledge of why things are like that. The keys go back into the pocket of the suit jacket she is wearing, the same clothing she was found in and the only reason they knew who she was. A plain suit coat, a white button front shirt, grey slacks and sensible shoes.

Taking a small moment to collect herself, she moves after him to look at the painting. It was bad. It was supposed to be fruit, or so she thought, but it did not look like fruit. "Um..." she muses, trying to find words that weren't too insulting to describe what she was looking at. "Perhaps finer lines?" No, even she did not know what that meant. "Coffee would be great, thank you. I think I'll stay away from alcohol for a while, I've had enough mind altering for a life time."

Without truly meaning to, she moved from the painting to start looking around the room. Eyes searching over the various items, trying to find purpose to them and still trying to remember them. "Guest room? Do I happen to have any clothing there? How insane it is that I can't remember something as simple as that?"

Achilles has posed:
    "Finer lines. I will try that." offers Angelo as he steps into the kitchen. He has one of those Keurig machines, so a cup of Sara's favorite rich dark blend is whipped up. Prepared from habit the precise way he did it so many times in the morning for her. He doesn't even think about that as he sets it up -juuuust- right. (Cream or sugar is up to you! But I think cops are required to drink it black!)
    But he gives her space and time to acclimate herself. When she asks about clothes, his voice comes back from the kitchen. Good thing he rearranged things. Most of those had been in his closet, but are now in the guest bedroom. "Absolutely!" he calls out. "Several changes of clothes. Even have copies of all your favorite shampoos and body washes and such in the shower just in case."
    And then he comes out with a steaming cup to hand over, "I figured that it would make more sense if you needed a place for a night or a weekend, that you should have it prepped for you. You even put a holster on the bedframe so you could hang your firearm up within reach while you slept. I thought it a touch paranoid but..." he shrugs helplessly.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Finishing her slow circuit of the living room, Sara finds herself back at the painting. It was just so bad. "Have you considered trying sculpting?" She calls while he's still in the kitchen, because that was nicer than what she really wanted to say. This hobby was a waste of paint and canvas and some poor starving artist needed those things.

As he appears from the kitchen, she turns to look at him with a smile. Even the way he moved sparked familiarity in her, which was just so comforting after weeks of feeling lost in the dark. "It makes sense to keep your sidearm in reach, you never know who'll come through the door after all."

She accepts the cup from him, lifting it to take a sniff of the rich aroma and the smile on her face blossoms into a broad grin. "Oh that is just lovely, thank you." It's too hot to sip, but the aroma alone will hold her for now. "I'll look into the status of my apartment when I get back to work, but you're probably right that it's rented out. Obviously I didn't need anything there, except perhaps the clothing. I do remember how hard this thing is on clothing."

Achilles has posed:
    Shaking his head, Angelo can't help but give a brief smirk. I mean.. he kinda likes how hard the blade is on her clothing. But he dismisses that and nods, "Perhaps you could ask it about learning some subtlty?" he asks. "I mean, if it grew armor -under- your outfit, much the way bobbies... I mean patrol officers tend to wear a vest under their uniform?" he asks.
    But he looks to the painting once more. Having stepped away from it for a few minutes and returned, he sees how truly horrid it is. "Okay. Maybe sculpting. Or perhaps I should just set up a forge in the back yard and stick to what I am best with." he suggests as he reaches his hand out away from either of the two of you, and the bronze xiphos sword made for him by Hephaestus just kind of -appears- in his hand. In reality, it unfolded from its compact storage size on his bracer... the oversized bronze bracelets he wears all the time. How familiar is the memory of -that-? This is something of a shock test in a way that does not imply intimacy or other uncomfortable things. Magic swords just might stand out. I mean his is no engine of creation. But it is cool!

Sara Pezzini has posed:
It is completely reactionary to the surprise, because Sara is in fact surprised, but the bracelet on her right wrist goes to gauntlet, and a dagger forms in her hand, even as she is taking a step back and preparing for... well that was all so much over kill right there.

Clearing her throat, a sheepish expression crossing her face, the knife and gauntlet disappear just as quickly as they appeared. "Sorry about that," she half coughs, trying to act all cool and calm over it. "Wasn't expecting that."

The real talent here wasn't how quickly she reacted, no, the real talent was the left hand never spilling or dropping the coffee cup.

Achilles has posed:
    Nodding, Angelo dismisses the blade once more, "I understand. I was hoping that its suddenness might spark something of a memory of having seen it before. Please forgive my attempt please." he offers with a more solemn tone of voice. "Do you recall trying out my bow in the back yard?"
    "But suppose you get washed up, and I'll put this monstrosity somewhere it belongs... like the fireplace." he suggests as he turns to the painting, shaking his head again.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara Pezzini shakes her head slowly and lays her right hand on his shoulder, "No, no need to be sorry at all Angelo. I should be thanking you a hundred times over for your help and your patience. You have nothing to apologize for." A osft smile touches her lips, she is genuine with this statement and it shows in her eyes.

"At the moment I recall a bow, the way it looks..." she pauses a moment, canting her head. "I think I sort of remember, because I recall holding it." She takes just a bit longer to think on it, to see if anythinge lse returns then shakes her head.

"I'll go change into something less, worky while you do that, then we can talk. Everything is so familiar and yet not, which probably sounds like a crazy person speaking." Turning, heading toward the guest room like she's done a million times before, though playing in her mind is the realization that she knows where it is without thinking.

Achilles has posed:
    "By all means. Do whatever is necessary to feel comfortable. This -is- your home too now after all." he states as he turns to look at the terribad painting. He grimaces and shakes his head, "Maybe I should set up a forge out back, but.. I couldn't do anything to match Hephaestus's skill." he mutters to himself.
    But by the time Sara comes back out, the whole painting setup has been removed, and a plate of snacks has been set out. Just some cheese and crackers in case Sara has the munchies. Also, a wine cooler sweating as cold as the drink is. And Angelo is sitting on the sofa holding the remote to the TV.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
It doesn't take Sara too long to clean up, wash her face, change into something less work like. A simple t-shirt and pair of jeans, feet left bare. She also removes the headband of gauze, it has been driving her insane and it's only purpose was to conceal a large bruise on her forehead.

Wandering back into the living room, feeling much more comfortable, she spies the cheese and crackers, and with her coffee back in hand, make a b-line toward them and the couch.

"This has to be difficult for you," she offers as she sits herself down, stealing a piece of cheese. "Me not remembering things."

Achilles has posed:
    "I admit, it would be harder were it -me- forgetting things." offers Angelo, "But.. I have had so much time that I -did- forget details of a few things down the centuries."
    He grins and shrugs his shoulders, "My friend is here with me. She is healthy and hale. Recovering, and interacting with me. I prefer to look at life along the lines of treasuring what I do have, and not lamenting what I don't have." But he pats the sofa and says, "Why don't you sit down. Tell me about anything you -do- remember? Maybe about what I have told you about myself and my life?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
With cheese in hand, Sara settles herself on the couch to nibble little at it and think. That's all she's been doing since waking up... thinking.

"I know your full name, including the fact that your last name is a tongue twister," she laughs. "I don't remember how we met. I remember sparring with you? Sort of. I know you're Achilles." It seems difficult for her to pull up the various things, like she fighting her way through something in her own head. "When you drew that sword, that's when I remembered the sparring, but it could have just been me imaging it."

Achilles has posed:
    Chuckling softly, Angelo shakes his head, "Which full name? My modern Greek name? Or my -real- full name?"
    That said, he stands up and performs a courtly bow, "It is my honor to remake your acquaintance. I am Achilles, son of Peleus. I -was- the Prince of Thessaly. My mother was Thetis, a goddess of the sea. My father was the Grandson of Zeus. I have killed more men than I can count, and that was before I..." and he makes fingerquotes, "Died. Or rather faked my death. Little known fact, my foot? My heel? Not really a weak spot." he shrugs, "If I'd known it was going to become a term everyone in the world used, I might not have let folks think it killed me."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara chuckles softly and extends her now empty hand toward him, the cheese having been consumed, to shake. "An honor to remeet you Achilles, or as I remember Angelo Tampamulos," phew, she said it.

"I didn't remember all of that. I knew you were the real Achilles, but sadly I didn't recall that your heel is not your weakness. I am horrified, I thought I had you dead to rights." She grins, clearly teasing with him.

Achilles has posed:
    "Now... I regret all of the lives I took in my youth." Angelo says, his voice a bit more somber as he takes Sara's hand. But then he moves and sits back down.
    Noting that she kept her coffee, he reaches for the wine cooler... needing a drink right now. He opens it and takes a swig. His green eyes looking into the distance for a moment. "I was such a prick. Such a vain man who killed hundreds of men who had no chance against me. I knew that I could not die. I know they could not win and I fought them like they were my worst enemy. Like I wanted everyone in the world to know that I had killed them."
    A pause and he sighs, taking another sip. "Even now, three thousand years later, I find them in my dreams. Accusing me. Hector, priests of the gods, kings, soldiers..." someone is starting to get lost in the regrets of his past.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
A frown touches Sara's features, and she sets the coffee down so she can take his hand in both of hers. "I can't begin to understand or empathize with that level of emotional pain, but I can tell you this, though I may have already told you this..." She pauses, keeping that hold on his hand then continues. "Everything in life happens for a reason. I'm not talking some unearthly God over seeing things and making them happen, or some intricate woven tapestry of fate that concludes we must do the things we do. I'm talking the flow of the universe itself, and how we are all presented with choices in our existence."

She offers him a soft smile, looking up to his eyes. "You know the mistakes you made, the choices you made. For you, being immortal, you get to learn from those mistakes and not repeat them. Which apparently you have done or you wouldn't be here right now, with a brain rattled New York cop. Don't be so hard on yourself."

Achilles has posed:
    Her voice brings him back to himself. Back to the present. And Angelo shakes his head like a boxer trying to shake off a blow. Then he smiles sadly, "Yes. But I don't think you know -why- I am immortal. It is not my blood. There is enough power there for that to have been the case if I came into the blood... which I did not. But there my mother fed me the food of the gods, and then after eating godly food... used the waters of the Styx... which is what makes the gods immortal by the way... to make me just the same. I had no say in it. But I loved it back then. Now..."
    He shrugs and shakes his head, "I would love to spend a single lifetime being just a man. Having a family. Growing old alongside someone."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara's smile brightens as he seems to come out of his funk, grateful she could help him not sink into depression. "It can't be easy to go on and on, watching everything constantly changing and the people you know passing, but you need to realize something.

Moving her hand to his shoulder, the other still holding his hand. "Every life that you touch, no matter show long or short those lives may be, means something now. You make their lives better, or least you've made mine better. Maybe there is some way to give you just one life time and a family, who knows what kind of magical powers exist out there? Never give up hope."

Achilles has posed:
    "There is a saying. Nothing lasts forever. And I have a feeling that I will find that out eventually for myself...about myself. But.." Angelo shrugs, "Until that time, I think I'll just try to continue making up for my past."
    A pause and he smirks a bit, "Something that I did not tell you before... you are familiar with the Justice League member, Diana Prince? Or Wonder Woman? She is of the Amazons. Her mother rules them. Well, her mother inherited the rulership when Diana's aunt was killed in battle."
    A dark cloud passes over his eyes for a long moment. "Penthesilea. The first woman I ever loved." He shakes his head, "I fell in love with her as she lay dying by my own hand. But... Diana formally forgave me for her Aunt's death. One of these days, I may forgive myself even."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara keeps a hold of his hand, the other now collecting her coffee to sip as she listens. A part of her ached, she had no idea why it ached but it did. She wanted to fix this, to make it better some how but she had no idea how to do so other than being there, listening, offering tidbits of a twenty-four years olds wisdom.
    "Why did Diana have to forgive you? Did you kill her aunt in battle?" She asks softly.

Achilles has posed:
    "Indeed. In the war. Ten years of war. War when it was blade and spear, armor and shield. No firearms." Angelo shakes his head, "A war like none before or since. A war that even the gods took sides in. Penthesilea was queen of the Amazons, and they fought in defense of Troy. On the side of some of the gods. But not all. I struck her down and it is entirely true that fighting a person for real, when the stakes are for death.. you can learn whom they really are at that time. But yes, I killed her in battle, when all I wanted was to be remembered forever. Now I wish folks would forget me." he mutters with a smirk, "At least the old me."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
    Sara cocks her head slightly to the right, one brow lifting as she says, "The old you is history, there is no changing that, but history learned from never repeats. You need to stop worrying so much about what was, and worry about what is and what will be." Talk about some wisdom on this kid.
    "If you spend all your time lamenting the past, you forget the present. You've already said you regret what happened, so you've learned from it and now you move on Angelo, be who you are /now/."

Achilles has posed:
    "For everyone, their past is a part of them. What has happened has made them whom they are. I ..." Angelo shakes his head and looks to her hand, to their point of contact. There is both a light in his eyes, and a shadow that casts over said light. He is not going to push things. Not going to tell her that they've gone so much farther than 'holding hands'. He turns his own hand over and closes it to grip hers. "Thank you. Far too many times, I seem to get lost in Achilles, and stop trying to be Angelo."
    But he shakes his head as if clearing it once more. "So, maybe we should go get a bite to celebrate your release from the hospital?"