9204/After Party Conversations

After Party Conversations
Date of Scene:	21 December 2021
Location:	The Triskelion: Courtyard
Synopsis:	After the SHIELD holiday party, when the other all had gone home, Jon, Sara and Cael talked about the events unfolding in the world and the sacrifice Jon made for others.... tempers flared, but RedFox got some cider!
Cast of Characters:	Sara Pezzini, Cael Becker, Jonathan Sims

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Sara Pezzini has posed:
Although she had not intended to stay until the end of the party, Sara had in fact done so. Once things calmed down, and the Fate had not returned, Witchblade returned to being the silver bracelet and for the most part, left Sara alone. Standing around outside had led her to get her heavier coat, and now she sat sipping coffee and watching the RedFox playing in the snow.

"Looks like people are heading out," she comments to no one specifically, then her eyes shift to Cael. "Should I make another pot of coffee?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I'm good," Cael answers.
    She'd opted out of most of the party - of interacting with many of the other agents - in favor of playing with the fox. She was calmer and more relaxed around the creature, something that anyone would admit she desperately needed right now.
    At the moment, the creature goes from mauling a stuffed toy, to carrying it back over to Cael, dropping it near her feet before it flumps down into the snow, rubbing its fur against the cold, white ground.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon sends Martin off at the end of the party with a kiss on the cheek--he has a shift at his cover job tonight, working as an EMT in Manhattan. He stands there for a long moment with his hands in his pockets, watching the man go with a look of trepidation. When the angels come, Martin will surely be part of the disaster response. What if he gets hurt? Gets killed?

    He shakes off those concerns and goes to grab the very last glass of hot buttered rum. There's a bit of cider left, too, so on a whim he decides to bring the last two glasses of that over toward Redfox's pen. He's curious about something, and now's a good a time as any to ask.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Although the chair isn't the best for curling up in, Sara is doing her best to do so. If she was wearing the armor, even as skimpy as it sometime got, she wouldn't be cold. In jeans and her coat, even with her boots and a stocking cap on her head, she was cold.

Her eyes shift as Jon heads toward the fox pen. "You enjoy the party, Jon?" She asks when he's close enough to actually be able to hear her.

Cael Becker has posed:
    It's not until Sara speaks that Cael realizes just whose steps were approaching, crunching through the thin layer of snow. She closes her eyes for a moment - then drops into a crouch, reaching down to stroke at the fox as she lets Sara and Jon talk.
    Despite her upbringing in far warmer climes, she doesn't seem cold at the moment. But maybe that's because she opted for warmer, woolen pants rather than jeans - and put on thermals under that.
    God the cold is the worst.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon offers out one of the cups of cider to Sara after a brief glance at Cael. "Yeah," he says. "I like winter... and I like a lot of the trappings of Christmas," he admits. "Where I grew up, in Bournemouth, the beach houses all get decorated for the season... little boxes all along the shore, like presents lined up for miles. There's a whole walk, the Christmas Tree Wonderland, decorations from all over the world... Haven't been there in years, though. Not since Lyra died."

    He sighs and shakes his head. Changes the subject. "I... wanted to ask, actually... how did you see through the illusion? I couldn't even tell anything was going on."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara accepts the cider because it is still hot, wrapping both her hands around the cup. There was a time she enjoyed the holidays, when her father would still pretend Santa Claus was still real, even when she knew he wasn't. Now it was just another day, a time of year to her.

"That sounds really nice," she says quietly. "I like the decorations still, though in New York you don't see too many. I like the tree at Rockefeller, and sometimes go ice skating." She takes a sip of the cider. "I didn't see through the illusion, Witchblade /felt/ through it. Something... silvery and cold... familiar, which is what I said. She still looked like a wounded kid, but the sensation of her wasn't human kid."

Cael Becker has posed:
    The fox bounces back to his feet, letting out loud and excited yips, and after a few snuffles, he picks his stuffed toy back up. He bounds one way, and then another - then trots through the snow, towards Sara and Jon, dropping the toy near them. It used to be a squirrel - now it's torn, and missing an eye, but the fox doesn't seem to mind.
    Cael follows Redfox with her gaze for a moment, then pushes herself back up to her feet, shoving her hands into her pockets.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon has his hot buttered rum and the other cider on a paper plate. He balances it carefully while he leans down to grab the little squirrel and tosses it like you might for a dog to play fetch with. "Silvery and cold, that was the aura, yes. I wonder why...?" He looks thoughtful, and then looks over at Cael.

    "Did you want some cider?" he asks the woman. Seeming to respect the distance she wants, just now.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Shifting her eyes to watch Cael for a moment, Sara notices that she is keeping a certain distance from Jon. A part of her gets it, that Cael is pissed at the man for offering himself up as a sacrifice to save his friends, the other part of Sara wants to thump Jon for doing just that, and then there was that part that realizes she would have done the exact same thing. At the root of it she knew that Cael's anger was rooted in her fear of losing her friend, but it wasn't her place to point it out or bring it up.

Looking back to Jon she offers a hint of a smile. "Silvery and cold," she repeats. "The same energies of Gaea, she who is a First God, Witchblade's mother, and one of the Fates Herself. That's why this Fate's energy was familiar, they are all connected to Her. That's also why he had to stage his little 'look at me' moment."

Cael Becker has posed:
    The fox follows the toy - tracking it by sound, and by smell, and mauling the hell out of it once it's located. The stuffing is hard to see on the snow as it loses a limb - poor little squirrel.
    The offer of a drink gets a nod, and Cael takes a step forward, accepting it with a quietly spoken, "Thanks." Once she has it in hand, she shirts around to the other side of Sara - leaning back against the fence to sip at the hot liquid.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The expression on Jon's face as he watches Cael move away is, for just a moment, guilty and pained. He's respecting the distance, but it /hurts/. But then he puts the mask right back up, and buries himself in the rum.

    "That makes sense," he says softly. "Explains... well. She hides Herself from me a great deal, it seems. I had wondered why I couldn't see through it."

    He heaves a sigh. "Just as glad it was a spirit, and not anyone actually hurt. I do worry about Mr. Karlsson, but..." But do you tell someone they're maybe fated to die? When you don't know for sure?

Sara Pezzini has posed:
The change of expression on Jon's face isn't missed, she knows that feeling as Sara had it about a week ago when Cael locked back up. She had shouldered that pain, walked away from it just like Jon was doing, and yet there was a voice in her mind, no not Witchblade, that made her wonder if that was the right thing to do. At the time, she had thought it was, but watching Jon...

"What's going on between you two?" She finally asks, looking back and forth between them. "We have a mutual enemy here, one that has marked a day on the calendar of our impending doom. We don't need to be turning on each other, in fact right now we should be rallying together, making plans on how to defeat the heavenly host and keep Jon from being taken."

Perhaps she was too blunt again, perhaps she should have kept her mouth shut, but she considered Jon a friend as well, and he was hurting and it wasn't right after the sacrifice he'd made. She didn't agree with the fact that he did it, but what is done, is done, and couldn't be taken back... so she was in support mode and plan ways to save him.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael winces, her gaze going down to the ground as she lets out a huff of frustrated air.
    Hadn't she had this conversation? This morning? //Right here//? She takes a sip of her cider, remaining silent for a few moments before she offers, "I'm not turning on anyone - and I am trying to come up with ways to save him." So far the best plan she has is 'Lucifer.' ...which is a little disconcerting, admittedly.
    "If you've got an idea for stopping that asshole before he can come to collect, and destroy reality as well, I'm open to hearing it." All of this is delivered while looking directly ahead, rather than at wither friend.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon sighs softly. "She doesn't want to lose me. She won't, but..." He shrugs. "It's still going to bother people, I get that. It's... understandable, entirely. We talked about it, and I agreed to give her time."

    Then he regards Sara quietly. "I respect your desire to try to save me. I won't stop you. But I /cannot/ participate in such plans." Maybe an odd thing to say. And a lot of why Cael's upset, at least by Jon's estimation.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara lifts a brow, head canting slightly for a moment as she studies Jon. He couldn't, in good conscious, participate in the plans to thwart the agreement he made, no matter how much he might want to. So her, that made complete and utter sense. He'd given his word, sworn the oath, pinky swore, however you wanted to put it, that he would be the one to pay the price for the others. He shouldn't have, but again, what's done is done.

"Of course you can't participate," she states bluntly, then looks over to Cael. "But I can understand why that would be upsetting. And no Cael, I don't have any specific plans at the moment on how to stop it from happening, but you can bet your sweet ass that I'll try to find a way. Witchblade may know something he's not sharing yet," she snorts at this, then takes another sip of the cider.

"It's frustrating, that he chooses when and where to tell me things," she admits. "This may be something he knows nothing about, or he could know something and be waiting for the right moment to say something. Either way, with or without him, I intend to start asking around for ways to save Jon."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I've already started," Cael replies simply. She continues to stare off into the distance she talks, looking towards neither of her friends. "...one theory is to try to talk to the other angels. See if they know what's going on and condone it, or if they'll put a stop to it. I'm, uhhh... Trying to get Luci to agree to contacting them for me, since I don't know how to do it otherwise, and I doubt yelling the names of angels in a church will work as well as I'd like."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Not without faith," Jon notes. "Caitlin Fairchild, now..." He smirks and shakes his head.

    He starts to pace a little. "I /won't/ die. I don't know how to explain... I won't die, and I swore on /ma'at/ to come back myself. I would /rather/ focus on ways to use this to our advantage. Or on ways to fight the angels. Like I said, I won't stop you--I just don't know that it's the best use of our efforts. Not least because... when the hell else will I be close enough to get his statement? And... and if I have that..." His hands flex on his cup. Why can't he seem to make anyone /see/ what he's seeing?

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"True faith is required to get the Christian Gods attention," Sara offers with a slight shrug. "The same is true of His angels, so the likes of you and I Cael, no way we can get their attention. Lucifer, now he has a chance of getting the attention of the other angels, and Gods as well, but whether they will listen to him is another matter. I mean let's face it, Michael is doing that the Morningstar did, and what got him cast to Hell in the first place. How is it that God hasn't noticed?"

She turns the cup in her hand slowly, to get a new warm spot on her hands, then looks over at Jon. "How are you intending to avoid death? We know what Michael does, we've seen first hand how he does things. Are you assuming that your own God will protect you or is there something you aren't sharing to explain how you won't die? I mean I get it, we need to focus on the coming war, because that is what it will be, and we need to make certain that people are out of New York, and those who are fighting /can/ injure angels."

Something seems to dawn on her at that moment and shudder runs up her spine. "Shiiiit... we're going to need infernal energy to defeat them," she says quietly. "For those who have no other means, and that's going to mean demons and devils."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Could it be - 'because God is a dick'?" Cael answers Sara's question in a dry tone.
    Her dry humor explodes abruptly into frustrated anger, however, as Jon speaks - and she tosses her cup in frustration starting to pace in the snow. "Who gives a shit about your //statements//, Sims?!" she asks, unable to rein in her energy at the moment, as she starts wearing a path through the snow with her back and forth tread. "Christ!"
    Redfox, meanwhile, perks his ears towards Cael's outburst, shrinking down into the snow - though in the end his interest in the spilled cider wins over his tredepidation over her outburst, and he's soon snuffling at the spill, licking up the flavored, melting snow and shoving his nose into the cup.
    "Luci's opposed to opening the gates of hell - he says the collateral damage'll be too extreme. And literally siding with the minions of hell is a PR nightmare. I dunno - those were his concerns anyways."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I'm not /intending/ to avoid death!" Jon shouts suddenly. "I don't have to! He. Won't. Kill. Me! It's part of the fucking contract we made! And who gives a fuck about the statements? /I/ do! If I get his statement I can fucking /end/ this! That's my /job/! I get a statement, and then I can /defeat/ him! We've done it before! No angel this powerful, but some pretty fucking powerful ones, and this guy's just a bigger, meaner version of the same! I am the /one/ person around here with access to /actual/ experience with fighting angels, but no, no, everyone /else/ knows better than me! Why can't any of you just... just /listen/ to me? /Trust/ me?!"

    He stands there, chest heaving, shuddering, and then his face flushes and he turns away.

    "We don't need infernal energy," he says in clipped, neutral tones. He's hunching his shoulders. "We don't treat with Hell. Fuck them. We can get all we need from Nullspace, and it'll work /better/. That's how we bound him. I suppose if we /need/ infernal energy, we get it from other sources. So don't... don't go making deals with demons needlessly."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Instinct, Sara stands and puts herself between Cael and Jon. It's not about defending or protecting in this case, but more about regaining control of the situation.

"Hey, both of you, knock it off!" She states firmly but not yelling as she looks between them. "There's no reason to start screaming at each other, so take a fucking chill and calm down."

She looks to Cael, "Jon's purpose requires he get the statements Cael, you don't have to like it or understand it, but that's what the Archivist does. It's the same as if a demon or demi-god got out of control, that's Witchblade's purpose. We cannot deny the purpose of our power, ever."

Now she looks to Jon, "I wasn't there to hear what the deal was Jon, all I was told is that you threw yourself to Michael to save the others, so I apologize for asking questions about death, but Cael /clearly/ wasn't telling me shit about it."

Now she looks back between them, "I wasn't talking about dealing with hell, but there are demonic and infernal powered individuals in the world, right now, who might be willing to assist. I'm not talking straight up demons... now please... I don't have all the information about this, and Cael's fear of losing you Jon, is controlling every emotion in her right now. Yelling doesn't help... can we please calm down?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael wheels on Jon, her jaw clenched, and her hands bunched tightly into fists at her side. She forces her hands open, then tightens them again, feeling the nails digging into her palms deeply enough to leave crescent marks. The sensation helps her to focus a little.
    "There wasn't anything to explain," she grits out. "Fucking Michael said he was going to take everyone who'd bound him. Sims said 'take me.' Michael said 'deal.' There wasn't any fucking contract, spoken, or written. That was //the whole fucking deal,//" she asserts in clipped tones. "He keeps insisting Michael won't kill him because there's 'Rules.' Bullshit. Bullfuckingshit."
    The tension and yelling is all a bit much for Redfox - who picks up his cup and trots off to the farside of his pen - only to bury his nose deeply in it, licking up every last drop of sugary liquid, while Cael continues to glare towards her friend.
    She turns away abruptly, running her fingers through her hair as she struggles for some semblence of control. God, she's a mess. She knows she's a mess. What she wants is to smoke another joint - but somehow, that feels like a bad idea on SHIELD's lawn.
    "Explain the 'statements' thing to me," she manages tensely, "in 'Captain Dummy Talk.' Tell me why the hell I should care. How does it help us?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's head snaps up and he glares at Cael. "It was a /mystical contract/," he hisses. "I can /feel/ it. The weight of it on my shoulders." He places a hand on his chest. "The twist of it in my heart. As surely as if I read every line on a page. That's how these things /work/."

    He draws in a shuddering breath. Looks away. "Statements are how my gods gather information in order to judge an entity. Like a priest taking confessional--some of my predecessors were priests, in fact--or, well... think of it, maybe, like a signed confession before a judge."

    He sighs, straightens a bit. "In the Duat, normally, Anubis takes the heart of the deceased and places it on the scales of Ma'at. If the heart is lighter than the feather of truth--if the deceased has done enough good deeds in their life--then they are judged worthy to move into the afterlife. If it is heavier, then it is taken by Ammit, the Eater of Hearts. Thoth records the result and advocates for the dead."

    Another long, deep breath. He's trying to keep his temper under control. Trying to be calm. "Statements replace the weighing of the heart. They are the way that I judge immortals, those who will not die in the normal course of matters. They will never face the judgement of /any/ god of death, and in the aftermath of magic dying out in the world, humans were left defenseless against those few powerful beings that were left. So the Great Mother, Neith, imbued my ancestors with this power. I am not the only check in the world on these beings." He looks to Sara and nods. "The Witchblade is another, I believe. There are more. I would gather them all if I could find them, but I'll take whatever we can get."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Part of that Sara has suspected but wasn't entirely sure about. She knew about magical contracts only because, at the root of her situation, that is what she and Witchblade had.... even if in the beginning she had not been willing. The Periculum had changed that, had enlightened her, shown her the path and purpose that allowed her to accept the contract. Some got choices, other like Jon and herself, did not.

"You're right about Witchblade," she says calmly, trying to exude that calm. "For certain entities he is judge, jury and executioner. At one time, it was Gods who fell to him, now it is the beings of this reality that aren't meant to be here, that no other's can remove. So yes Jon, I get it."

She glances to Cael a moment, wondering if the answer will calm her or anger her more, but then she looks back to him to add, "Thank you for explaining however, it makes it more clear to me."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Magical contracts? It sounds like bullshit to her. Something Sims tells himself to make him feel better about going to his death. He 'knows' it? He 'feels' it? What the fuck kind of proof is that. She paces in frustration, unable to believe a word of it - but knowing that Jon and Sara did.
    //Great//.
    "Fine," she grits out - the f particularly aggressive. "Don't know how you expected me to fucking know any of that without fucking telling me, though." It's not //her// fault is she can't psychically know all of his delusions.
    "How does letting him //torture// you get you any closer to getting his statement?" she asks instead, without looking towards the man.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I can't get it out of him in the normal course of matters," Jon says. "I can't compel him, and he knows what I am and what I can do, so he won't just /give/ it to me normally. But if he thinks he has me right where he wants me? Thinks I'm helpless? I can trick him into it. Hell, maybe he'll even give it to me because he thinks it'll hurt me--he thought his /name/ would hurt me. He's /arrogant/, Cael. I can use that against him."

    He sighs, and turns to start pacing. "Without it, I can /barely/ channel the Nullspace energy that will hurt him. With it...? Once I have it, if my gods judge him unworthy--and I already know they will, because of how the Great Mother spoke through me to him--then I can use it against him. Hurt him. Bind him down while Sara and Lady Death stab him. Drag his ass back to Heaven and bind him to the Gates until he promises to fucking behave. Whatever it /takes/."

    He casts about for an example. "It's... I'm like a /cop/ for these things, Cael. Statements are like a warrant. I can't act in certain ways until I get one, but once I have it? I can kick in the fucking door and haul everyone out. If I have to go into the gang leader's hideout anyway, then by the gods I'm going to wear a wire and gather evidence."

    A pause. "I already said I won't tell you not to try to save me from it. But frankly, hearing people cheerlead about how they're going to 'save me' isn't really all that helpful. It /hurts/. Like all any of you care about is how this affects /you/ and not..."

    He stops. Turns away. Shakes his head. "Forget it. Just... just... forget it. You can do what you want. I already said that. And you can be as mad at me as you want. I'll be here. But you did ask."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sitting back down, Sara rubs her hands together before picking up her cider again. At least they were talking now, instead of avoiding each other. Nothing is ever solved without communication, she learned that a long time ago. Cael's go to was /always to clam up, hide away, just be angry and sometimes throw tantrums about it. Jon she didn't know well enough to be certain, but she was pretty sure that he was also the type to walk away rather than talk it out, in case it might hurt someone to know the truth of a situation, or in the case of Cael, to let her avoid him because it made it easier for her, even if it hurt him.

"Witchblade already deems him unworthy," she says quietly, taking another sip of the cider. "But I think that's pretty obvious at this point. This reality is not Michael's to hinder, as such he has over stepped his boundaries and deserves destruction."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael continues her pacing, not looking at any of her friends - until Jon's words make her breath catch in her throat. She stops at the fence, on hand reaching out to cling to it, as she stands with her back to her friends. Her heart aches enough that it feels like a physical pain, and her mind whirls in confusion and protest. She's not be selfish! She's not. How is wanting to protect your friend selfish? How?
    "I just want to keep you from hurting like this," she answers quietly. "I just- I want to keep you safe, because you know more about all of this, and have more power than I do. And- and we need you to help us win this thing. How is any of that selfish?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Well," Jon says softly, "that's a lot of 'other people need me' and not a damn thing about what /I/ might want or need." He huffs out a breath. "Good to know I'm needed, anyway."

    He stares down at the snow. "I keep reminding myself superheroes don't do it for the thanks. For the credit. That if I /wanted/ to be... publically known, and adored, I'd join the fucking Avengers or the Justice League or something, not SHIELD and the Justice League Dark. But somehow... somehow, standing there offering to be /tortured/ by an archangel and then getting treated like some simpleton who didn't know what the fuck he was doing, couldn't /possibly/ have made that choice in earnest, no one asking what /I/ needed in the wake of that moment, getting not a /single/ word of thanks..."

    He shakes his head. "Didn't do it for that," he mutters. Stuffs his hands in his pockets. "I should let you two get home." He's not walking away yet, but he's about to be unless he's stopped.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Enough was enough. Standing up, Sara tucks her hands into her coat pockets.

"She's not wrong Jon," she states bluntly. "You know the most about all of this, other than perhaps a couple of others who are damn near impossible to get in contact with." She steps over by Cael, but looks back to Jon.

"The reason I want to keep you from being hurt has nothing to do with anything selfish, it has to do with making sure you go home to Martin, that you're there for the next PTSD Agent that needs a therapist who gets it, that you're around to offer your advice and wisdom to those who need to hear it, when they think they've fucked up so badly, there's no reason to go on. Is that selfish, Jon? To want the world to have you in it for all the good you can do?"

Giving Cael a nudge she says first, "Let's head home." Before she looks back to Jon. "I never ask for thanks, or acknowledgement, or even to be recognized. I don't call myself a superhero either. I know why you made the offer, why you made the call to sacrifice yourself, it's not about trust, because I do trust you. That doesn't change the /emotions/ behind it though, because at the root of it all Jon, it still hurts both of us to think of you being hurt. As a therapist, you should know you can't deny what people feel, that we're allowed to feel it, but that said... I support your decision."

Cael Becker has posed:
    He wants her to thank him? To thank him for this? It doesn't even compute for her, causing her to tighten her hands in frustration. "I- everything about this feels wrong. It feels //wrong//. It hurts. It terrifies me. It-" Cael doesn't have the words to describe it - and so she flounders into silence, shaking her head helplessly.
    "...yeah," she finally answers Sara quietly. "Yeah, let's go home." She doesn't make any attempt to move yet, though, her hands clinging so tightly to the fence her knuckles show white.
    She needs a few more minutes. //Then// they'll go home.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon laughs, sharply, without mirth. "Yeah, I know, Cael. It's wrong. It hurts. It terrifies me. I /get/ it. But I... have to hold together. Because everyone needs me." He says it as truth, without rancor. It's just how the world is.

    "Do you know, /I/ don't have a therapist? Haven't since Gran died. I'm looking, but nothing's worked out. No mentor, either. There's only one of me, evidently." Jon sighs. "So yeah. I know /precisely/ what the world would be like without all the good I do for other people. It's no one's fault, it's just..." He shakes his head sharply, like he's trying to dispel the thoughts.

    "Don't worry," he says, staring up at the Triskelion. "I'll live. I promised Cael I'd come back whole--promised on /ma'at/--so I will. You'll all have me for all you need me for. Alright?"

    He can't quite keep the bitterness out of his tone, but he's trying. Gods, he's trying.

    He sighs heavily. "I'm going to call a meeting some time after Christmas, to do some planning for this... impending invasion. Not sure when. I'll let you know." A pause, and then he looks over to Sara. "And I'll tell you what I told Cael--if you want me alive and whole? Keep Martin alive and whole. He knows how to bring me back from this kind of thing. He's done it before."

    With that, the turns to walk into the Triskelion.