Owner	Pose
Alexander Aaron	That's him.     That's the one. The tall blond in the loose grey hoodie. Alexander Aaron. Olympian. Son of Ares. God of Fear. On SHIELD's watch list since he was ten years old along with his father. Good behaviour for the most part. Except that one incident...     It had been some time since she'd seen him. Over a year. Almost two. He was taller. A handful of inches. His hair is scruffier, longer. There's that slacker hint of a beard or a few days growth of such. His shoulders had also filled out, broadening. Something about him definitely seemed older than the time that had passed. Though hard to tell from afar. Still.     As for Alexander it was the first weekend of Summer. Finals had come and gone, the demands on his time were still strong from not just family but also training. Yet there was more of a sense of freedom in the air as the young Olympian stood in line for the Falafel truck. It was later in the evening, the sun still sneaking down along the horizon. A good hour before it fully set, but enough that it illuminated the Manhattan skyline so nicely. While over the East River night time was almost there.     He looked up, brow furrowing as the line shuffled forward. Hands in the pockets of his jeans... he looked like any given twenty-something so close to Empire State. Though he did have a small half-smile on his lips as if thinking of some old joke.
Bobbi Morse	"Care to share the joke with the rest of the class?" It's been a while since he heard Bobbi's voice, with that sardonic amusement at the world around her. She'd been on assignment, you see. Deep cover in some organized crime circle that prevented her from staying in touch even if Alexander hadn't dropped off the face of the earth himself as far as SHIELD was concerned. Bobbi is not in uniform, wearing jeans and a Georgia Tech tee, and appears unarmed and harmless as she moves to stand beside Alexander with a tread that makes less noise than a mouse farting. "Been a while, hasn't it?"
Alexander Aaron	That voice, now that is a voice he'd remember. Since it had harangued him more than once. But always with a positive tilt to it, even when sharpest.     Alexander turned and his eyes narrowed slightly, that half-smirk still there even as he shot a quick glance at the next person in line, making sure it wasn't his turn and that he was holding things up. Once he realizes he's good for now he tells her, "Barbara."     Knowing that that might well tweak her a little.     But then the smile slides a little wider as he can't hide the amusement and says, "It's good to see you. Been... a dog's age." He lifts a hand to pat her lightly on the shoulder then give a small companionable push, not mean or anything, just a way of saying hello as if to say, 'This gal.'     Before they had almost been on eye level, now... he was a good few inches taller and he tells her, "You have gotten smol." Then holds up thumb and forefinger as if showing she was super tiny. But as a peace offering he says as he gestures to the food truck, "Can I get you something?"
Bobbi Morse	The use of her full name does indeed make one of her eyelids twitch in annoyance, but she quickly pushes that aside with a roll of her eyes as she settles in beside him. If the people in line behind him are annoyed at her skipping line, they don't speak up. I mean, New Yorkers are famous for their willingness to overlook stuff like that, right? Right! "I've been on assignment, and couldn't get away until now." She tells him, regarding the dog's age. The push makes her skip slightly to keep her balance, but keep it she does, giving him an push back. "I haven't shrunk, you're the one that's exploded." She tells him dryly, adding, "And smol I may be, but I'll still gnaw your ankles off, Alexander."
Alexander Aaron	A wry laugh comes from him and that smile broadens into something warm even as he shakes his head a little. Crinkling his nose at her he says, "Whatcha want? My treat." Even as they then shuffle forward and advance in line so that it's now their turn.     Which has Alexander turning and lifting his eyes upwards, "Number seven and an iced tea, please." Which takes care of his order, then he steps to the side to let her place hers.     It's then, in the interim as they now stand in the 'waiting for their stuff!' line that he turns to focus fully on her, "I checked in with... Age- with Daisy. So I should be all good. You here to hassle me for work or pleasure?"     Then he adds without even letting her answer the first question, "And was it a cool assignment, or a nerd assignment?" Knowing she full well can handle both.
Bobbi Morse	"Iced tea? Really?" Bobbi squints at him, and shakes her head in mock judgement of his drink order before she addresses the food vendor, "Number four, no onions and a coke to drink. And thanks, Alexander." The SHIELD Agent then grins over at him, and taps the side of her nose at his question regarding her assignment. "Classified. If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Yes, kill the demigod. Insert laugh track. "And it's always a pleasure to hassle you, even when it's for work."
Alexander Aaron	"Mmmhmm," Is the casual response to the suggestiong of deicide. But now once they get their food he's already starting to step away, turning and walking a little sideways as he waits for her to get her own food. Then he's strolling along slow enough that their gait matches, his speed casual and at ease.     "That's kind of you to say," In response to it being a pleasure. Which has him eyeballing her, "Where did you bury the real Bobbeh?" Saying her name like Hank Hill.     But he looks back down the road, "Sidenote though, you're looking good. Kinda... rested in some ways. And you seem to be in a good mood."
Bobbi Morse	"Good clean living, my friend." Says the girl that shot up a meth house blend of two different super soldier serums, as she collects her own food. The coke is given a slurp as she makes sure they actually gave her the right beverage. When he asks where she buried the real Bobbi, she snorts. "She's buried under her ex's front step so he can walk all over her for the rest of eternity." She teases, and then snorts, glancing around to make sure they aren't easily overheard. "I read Daisy's reports, but I figured I'd come check on you in person. How are you?"
Alexander Aaron	It's different when Bobbi asks him how he's doing.     Mainly because she usually isn't asking it to just be polite. She's taken reports on him, been his point of contact with SHIELD, and actually knows some of what he's dealt with in the past considering the war, the island, and now...     "Mmm, alright." A tilt of his head as he looks to her, "There was that gathering on Olympus. Scions. A competition of sorts. It was interesting, rough in some ways. One of the contestants didn't make it." He shakes his head as he walks along, eyes distanced in reflection.     "Came back after a time, got back into ESU." He then looks at her, "Been training, focusing on that since it helps maintain readiness." She's seen him train before, martial arts, swordplay. Though they've never sparred. Then his brow furrows, "Finally started dating Thea, don't know if you remember her. But we broke up a few months back."
Bobbi Morse	Hey, Bobbi cares! There's a heart under all that sarcasm and logic. Somewhere. Maybe. Unless you ask her exes. Her eyes are at least sympathetic when Alexander talks about dating and then breaking up with a girl, and she forestalls having to comment by taking a bite of the gyros Alexander bought her. Finally, when she surfaces from the street vendor food: "Sorry to hear, Kid. Breakups suck, no matter how old you get." Voice of experience there. "At least you've got training and school to keep you busy. And demigod cage matches, apparently." She looks broodingly at the crowd even as she says that, considering the implications. "I'm sure your pops was proud of the carnage. So what are you majoring in? Classical studies?"
Alexander Aaron	"Ehn," Alexander says sidelong, "It's not as bad as it sounds," The stroll is casual, easy-going as they walk. The general direction seems to be in that corner dog park that sits so close to ESU itself, a few benches, a few trees, decent enough of a place to sit down and get away from potential eavesdroppers.     "The whole inability to feel fear thing makes relationships... a lil tough." Which has him giving a slight nod as he takes a bite of his own falafel. Then he pauses near the waist-high wrought-iron gate to that park, pulling it open so she can precede him.     As to what he's majoring in he smirks a little and says sidelong, "Don't laugh, sports medicine." Considering it was between that and indeed Classical studies... well might not be super surprising.
Bobbi Morse	"From other people like you I've talked to, sports medicine is probably a safer bet. I hear Homer took a lot of creative liberties and you people tend to destroy records or lie to protect yourselves from notice." Like from world wide espionage organizations? "Relationships are tough period. But I admit I don't know if I could date anyone I couldn't put the fear of God... err... Gods into." She says with a smirk, and gives him a little mocking curtsy when he opens the gate for her. But she does walk in, still munching away at her gyros.
Alexander Aaron	A laugh as he follows, "It's not like that it's..." Alexander walks with her, closing the gate behind. Now with some cover between them and the street, and only an older gentleman ahead walking his Labrador Retriever, it at least feels like they're less likely to be overheard, so his manner eases.     "If you aren't afraid to lose someone, can you really cherish them? You know? I think that is what gets to people who look for that from me." Though as he says that he makes a face, "Not to ramble at you about gurl stuff, since you barely qualify as one." His lips twist in that half-smirk he'd have whenever he'd give her the business.     "And you?" He takes another bite of falafel as he walks, lifting it a bit so the juice doesn't trickle onto his hand. "Still crushing the romantic hopes and dreams of the men and women of SHIELD?"
Bobbi Morse	"I'm taking a break to focus more on me." Bobbi replies with a snort when he asks her about her romantic options, "Lance and I split up, amiably enough since I let him keep the dogs and the house. And I've been so busy with work that even just a one night stand has been out of the question." The joys of being one of the best undercover operatives SHIELD employs, yo. She also relaxes somewhat when they are off the streets, keeping pace with him despite the height difference. She gives his arm a punch when he calls her barely a girl, adding, "I figure it has to also be hard knowing you're immortal, that you'll outlive any relationship you do find." She grimaces, and takes a sip of her drink with an distinctly unladylike slurp. "Although you're probably right. I've done enough relationship counseling to know people get freaked out by emotional unavailability be it trained or innate from being unable to feel fear."
Alexander Aaron	A moment's feigned pain at the slug in his arm is given back to her, though he knows it won't stop her from further evil violence. Yet he just half-smirks some more and takes another bite of his lamb. Though the path they walk is a nice one, leading slowly wending through the park toward the fountain that stands sentinel in the middle.     "It's..." Alex looks sidelong at her, "Something I've thought about. I still have echoes in my mind at times, from the other beings that were Phobos. And that can be strange to sometimes have this ancient perspective on things..."     He shakes his head and pauses once they draw near the fountain, then wipes a hand on the marble edge of it to make sure it's at least clean for them to sit down. "And still be 'myself'. If that makes sense." That said he takes a seat and settles in, leaning forward. His forearms rest on his knees and the remains of his food are held easily enough.     "Though I imagine you hit similar situations. Since you're a trained agent. Part of you always has to be held apart."
Bobbi Morse	"I think people get more disturbed by the trained agent thing than anything else; there's a certain attitude that you develop after a certain point where you constantly analyze everyone and everything." Bobbi pops a squat on the edge of the fountain, trusting Alexander's hand swipe to guarantee she isn't going to get a soggy bottom. Mary Berry would be scandalized if she did! "I had an ex tell me one time I looked at him like I was trying to figure out the best way to kill him." She wrinkles her nose. "He was right, but it was still hurtful to point out." She doesn't mention the fact her research has indicated that the meth house cocktail she shot up has frozen the aging process, making her functionally immortal too. Classified. "Echoes of other Phobos, eh? That's probably bittersweet. All that second-hand experience, and I'm sure it's freaky not knowing if it's your memory or an echo from someone else."
Alexander Aaron	"It was worse before," Alexander says, "Now I can tell a little easier."     Yet those weren't the words that arrest his thoughts, for when she had mentioned when a boy of hers mentioned that way she had of looking at him... that gets him to smile a little and lower his eyes. Then he shakes his head and murmurs, "Growing up as I did, with my father."     He gestures toward Bobbi, one hand uncurling slowly as if offering for her to take the words from him. "I sort of developed a similar... aspect. Got hassled by one of my best friends in school that sometimes I look like..."     He shakes his head and doesn't elaborate, then murmurs. "And you're like, how do you tell this person that you can't help but imagine what you'd do if they suddenly flipped out and tried to kill you. Or that you knew seven different ways to break their neck from a standing position?"     Another bite of the falafel is taken, he chews as his eyes distance.
Bobbi Morse	"If I knew the answers, I'd actually have a love life worth gossiping about." Bobbi tells Alex dryly, with a shrug and a slurp of soda. "As is? I take what I can get with agents that understand the necessity of that mindset and aren't intimidated by my reputation and rank." Her expression is faintly sympathetic, though. Especially when he mentions his father. Being raised by an overprotective God of War is definitely something worth seeking therapy over. She changes the topic, though, by commenting, "Only seven ways? You're slacking, kid. I know twelve, six of them not requiring the use of hands."
Alexander Aaron	That has him giving her an eyeballing sideways, nose crinkling as if not believing her, but then he turns his head away and she likely can see his gaze distancing as he lifts his chin a little...     And he mentally goes through the possible techniques. Which has him nibbling on his lower lip for an instant and then smirking as if realizing something. Which is when he turns back to her and replies with an answer that few other fighters on this green Earth might be able to come back to her with, "You're counting the flying triangle twice, once for each dominant leg?"     Since he could see that with Bobbi Morse, being sneaky like that.     But then he says, "You get my point though."
Bobbi Morse	"I mean, it is two different legs, so yeah" Bobbi replies with a grin, "But I'm also counting a few things the Calvary taught me she picked up from some aliens." Interstellar martial arts? Sounds kind of like cheating. She nods to him, though, and after a few moments spent noshing on the last of the gyros says, "But I do get your point."
Alexander Aaron	"You realize that now I'm curious." Alexander says sidelong, frowning most dour as she reveals she has some insight he's not privy to. Which simply cannot stand. He nudges her absently with his shoulder, not rough, just affectionately even as he finishes the last of his falafel and then starts to wad up the wrapper, washing down the last of his food with a drink from his newly opened iced tea.     "We'll have to train some time if you're not too afraid to get yer butt whupped." A solemn nod is given, as if that were the predestined outcome and he had no part of it, just a fact for the world.
Bobbi Morse	"I'd be down to train some." Bobbi replies easily with a grin, nudging him back as she finishes her soda. "As long as you aren't afraid to get your butt kicked by a girl. I can take some shmuck that doesn't even have to shave every day." The agent then gets to her feet, looking around for a trash can. "Granted, unless you have a dojo or something in your back pocket, it means coming to the Triskelion on a guest pass. Possibly getting a medical check up, although I can probably ensure that I'm the one that handles the labwork." She grins, "Hope you aren't afraid of god-piercing needles."
Alexander Aaron	Rolling his eyes, "Are you kidding?" Alexander waves a hand to the side as if brushing her words out of the way. "Half of my apartment is set aside for a fencing run, exercise equipment, and sparring mats." A small dismissive sound is made as if she were a crazy person.     "And my father is a silent partner at Oyama's dojo if you're familiar." He makes a face, "We are likely drowning in options. The Triskelion is for amateurs." Which has him smirking a little.     But then his eyes hood a little as he follows her rising up and wandering for the trash can. Which isn't too far off toward the trees away from the fountain. He rises as well and follows after.     "So," He starts, head tilting slightly as he walks up and then tosses his trash in the bin. "You're not my case agent anymore." He folds his arms over his chest and shifts his weight to the other foot, head tilting curiously. "That means there's no conflict of interest if I should do something insane, like..."     He shakes his head and looks to the side, then back again. "Asked you to coffee?" And for once there's that gleam in those pale ethereal eyes.
Bobbi Morse	Into the trash can Bobbi throws her drink and the wrapper for her gyros, after a quick glance to check for recycling... After all, saving the world means more than beating up on HYDRA and AIM! "Oh, be nice." Bobbi tells him with a rolling of her eyes. "Triskelion has facilities reinforced to handle people at heightened strength levels. Even mythological nerds like you." And then, he's doing something insane, and asking her out. Bobbi's face goes utterly expressionless at that, eyelids half lidding as she considers. "I mean, I'm old enough to be your mom." She temporizes, pacing back towards the fountain slowly without looking to see if Alexander is following her. She sits down slowly, and eyes him with half a grin, "Tell you what. Let's get all Trojan about this... You beat me, and we do coffee and a night out on Coney Island." Pause. "I beat you, and you have to do a full round of labs with me. Blood work, urine sample, cough to the side, the whole nine yards."
Alexander Aaron	"Mythological nerds," Alexander repeats when she uses that rather choice phrase, hands settling on the his hips as he tilts his head to the side. There's a crooked half-smirk on his features as his gaze follows her with her wandering back. Then a moment behind he walks along with.     Then she points out the difference in age and his eyebrows rise slightly. That small half-smile seems to add a silent, 'and?' to the conversation. Perhaps due to the multiplicity of having those old souls connected to his own.     Then his lips part as he mirrors, "Trojan." As if that amused him on some level. He sits back down at the fountain, sprrawwling out with his hands flat on the fountain's edge, his legs out before him with ankles crossed. "How about winner chooses for the night? Since Coney Island is crummy this time of year?" Tourists after all.
Bobbi Morse	"Winner chooses? Sure." Bobbi nods, and then brushes blonde hair out of her face from her perch on the side of the fountain. "Just be aware I'm a lady and I don't put out on the first date." There's a moment of awkward silence, broken only by the gurgling of the fountain, before Bobbi speaks up again. "I've told you about the serum I got dosed with, didn't I?" She asks slowly, "And the side effects of it? I don't talk about it much, but if there's going to be strenuous physical exertion..."
Alexander Aaron	Shaking his head, Alexander seems to accept the answer. But then she makes that comment about first dates and his eyes hood a little much in the way she looked at him when she mentioned his age. Only now there's an awkward silence that lingers after it. Which has his half-smile sloooowly growing into a smirk, as if he knew he could put an end to that silence with but a word. Yet instead he lets it go on... purely to torture her.     The Jerk.     Then she raises her voice and he shakes his head, "You haven't, actually. I heard once that something had happened a time ago. But we never talked about it."
Bobbi Morse	"I don't talk about it much." Bobbi repeats, and rolls her eyes at him as she lets her hand go back and fingers trail through the water of the fountain. "You're aware of the super soldier serum, right? Captain America, all that jazz? I was injected with a modified version mixed with some other stuff that didn't require activating radiation.. Kind of like a meth house version." She lifts her hand and flicks him with water lingering on it. "I can punch through steel, function at peak human capacity, and am effectively immortal. But because of the nerd that made the meth house serum, I also get micro-heart attacks when I over-exert." She spreads her hands, "If we do go at it.." and there's a smirk at her choice of words, "I could very well have a seizure."
Alexander Aaron	"I am," He answers that first question then he tilts his head to the side curiously. Listening to her as she speaks he shifts and leans to the side, resting his weight on the arm closest to her. There's a small furrow to his brow as he considers what she tells him.     Punching through steel, peak human. Immortal. That has him sitting up a little straighter, since... he knows a little of what it means to be a soul traveling through life, experiencing what mortality really is. Only to be given that particular blessing and to know what sort of a number it can play on a mind.     Yet when she confides about the mirco heart-attacks he tilts his head the other way, quizzical. One hand lifts to push through his bedhead-like hair, fingers resting on the back of his neck as he looks at her.     "Then maybe we shouldn't attach some sort of test to whether or not we hang out, Bobbi." Using that name for the first time, the tone tinged with something gentle. "Unless you're totally dying to try and kick my ass."     At that last his smile broadens a little, and then nudges her again gently with his shoulder.
Bobbi Morse	"See, the kid gloves is why I don't tell people." Bobbi complains, leaning over and scooping a handful of water to splash Alexander with this time. But her body language for all the playful splashing is still a little closed in and guarded. She is, after all, a super spy discussing her greatest physical weakness. "I mean, I should be fine." She tells him when he suggests cancelling, "I admit part of me wants to completely destroy you just for shits and giggles. But honestly, I also need the practice with someone in your weight class." She spreads her hands, "Suddenly going from a baseline human to punching through steel sounds nice, but... One of the eggheads in psych called it capacity dysphoria. My calibration is off with speed and strength. Sometimes I'm too quick, sometimes not quick enough, and I broke my favorite coffee mug the other day by gripping it too hard."
Alexander Aaron	Nose crinkling by the sudden sploosh! The young Olympian crinkles his nose at her and thumps her shoe with his own. She goes high, he goes low with his reprisal! But it's all casual and barely any oomph to it, playful, though with a hint of amusement that's there. Almost like back in school when a gal and a guy like each other.     "Well," Alexander says as he listens to her, mindful of any further perfidy. Though when she says 'destroy him' he gives her a /look/ that might remind her of her own smirk when she said 'over-exert'. It's like she's doing it /deliberately/. "I should warn you I do train hard. So if you tell me to go full out, well. That's what yer gettin'. But good news, if you're wanting to help get a handle on things.."     He snorts before adding, "Well, I heal fast at least."
Bobbi Morse	"Maybe not /full/ out." Bobbi temporizes quickly, raising one eyebrow at him. "I'm tougher than I was, but not full on 'tank a punch from an god' tough." She considers him, before adding, "Still, you look kind of scrawny. I might be able to handle it." Whether or not she's doing it deliberately is up for debate... This *is* the Mockingbird, after all, who has made a career out of leaving even the highest echelons of SHIELD wondering at her motives and if she's being sarcastic or serious. "I'm kind of curious if SHIELD training is a match for Olympian God of War training, to be honest." She admits, after a pause while she dries her hand on her jeans, "Besides, I figure it'll be a good addition to your dossier to have an idea of your combat capacities." No comment on the possibility of a date, or where she'd force him to go if she wins. Probably Coney Island since he seemed so adverse to that idea and she takes perverse pleasure in that sort of practical joke.
Alexander Aaron	"Well," Alexander tilts his head toward her as he listens to her, but it's at the scrawny crack that he interjects, "You know you're not making it easier for yourself." He bites his lower lip and cocks one eyebrow as he nods at her, as if she was in some serious trouble for that rudeness. Yet the way those ethereal eyes glimmer with amusement might give some insight into it not being /thaaaat/ much.     "But here, take my hand." He uncurls a hand toward her, palm upwards. He has the hands of a fencer, that much is clear. The small callous between thumb and forefinger, the mark of repeated pressure in the grip. It's there with the marked strength in the wrist and forearm. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me." About what she must deal with.     "I'm... a demi-god. And well, I'm not immortal. Not yet. I haven't died yet. I likely will at some point down the line. Since the Fates are... often cruel." His eyes lift to meet hers, "But what that means is that I'm a good bit human. If you'll see."     And he waits should she accept that hand.
Bobbi Morse	"I've never taken the easy path, Alex." Bobbi snorts, eloquently, as he calls her out on her borderline rude, mocking comment, "If I had, I'd be in a lab somewhere hunched over a microscope squinting at people that dare disturb me." And then there's a hand offered to her, and she accepts with her own. Her own hand shows the signs of her violent past, with knuckles running straight instead of curved due to repeated impact, calluses from her batons, and a roughness no amount of manicures can quite get rid of. "Guess I'm a little ahead of you, then." She says wryly regarding immortality, "The serum perfected cellular turnover to the point that there's no further degradation of the cells.. One of the eggheads in medical even thought I might eventually heal all the calluses and scars I already have, as well as having the aging process frozen at my current age."
Alexander Aaron	"That could be," That she's ahead of him a little. He tilts his head, "People read my file though and are all, 'ooh super strength super durable' and all that, right?"     His hand is warm, a few degrees warmer than is normal, and indeed if she's read his file she'd know it's due to whatever mystical furnace churns within each Olympian that heightens their metabolism. They appear brighter on thermographic scans, they recover from injuries quickly, and in part due to that heightened level of activity.     "But since I've not crossed over yet, I'm still mostly human. Push down." That hand starts to lift against hers and likely with her own increased strength she can hold his arm down fairly easily.     "For me, things tend to have to be given focus and effort. I heal well, I can recover quickly but my strength..." His arm tenses, then the bicep tightens, growing. Though he wears fairly baggy clothes, perhaps to hide some of his physique, she can tell with the subtle swell in that hoodie's arm as the muscle tightens. "Takes effort to focus."     And sloooowly she'll feel him raising his arm, becoming stronger and stronger against the grip. Just enough to give the point. "It helps in some ways, since I can be more gentle. But I've also had to train a lot so I don't overdo and break things."     A tilt of his head, "Sort of what you're going through I imagine."     Then just as quick his hand eases free, but only after a small squeeze given as he rises. "C'mon, you can walk me back and you can come by later and we'll go a few rounds. Alright?"