Owner	Pose
Alexander Aaron	Greenwich Village is an eclectic assembly of business and people at its best of times. One of the known neighborhoods in the city that maintains its identity unrepentantly and adamantly. There are often corner gatherings, block parties, farmers markets, and more throughout the year. The people are often colorful and lively, and there is a feeling of togetherness and acceptance that isn't often found elsewhere in New York.     Which may be why no one takes too much of an exception to the blonde youth slouched on the edge of the park bench and apparently having a rather in depth conversation with what seems to be a trio of pigeons. Oh in other areas people might not give him a hard time, they might walk on by. But they'd ignore him out of self-preservation, worried that the pigeon-talker would talk to them. In Greenwich, they ignore the pigeon-talker because he has every right to talk to pigeons. Dammit.     "I understand what you're trying to convey. But just showing up there gives tacit approval and gives him something to crow about."     The pigeons make a fluttering noise.     "Or yes, coo about it."     The pigeons flap their wings and peck at the ground.     "The point is it gives him ammunition to get a one up on my dad."
Patsy Walker	It's that charming eclectic nature of the Village which draws Patsy to choose it as her jogging site this morning. In fitted black spandex from hip to ankle, these a flash of spitefully-bright orange socks tucked into black running shoes, her top is kept warm by a layering of a light athletic turtleneck beneath a high-collared jogging coat. The zipper pulled down exposes some of the lavender turtleneck beneath the cream-colored jacket with its reflective lines in white (all the better to not get swatted by traffic while crossing the street). Her red hair is back in a messy bun and her wireless earbuds pump in a steady stream of the local EDM station to offer a rhythm to follow. Turning the corner, the young woman keeps up the ground-traveling lope with an ease meaning she's still not towards the last third of her expected running path. When she glances up from a zen-like focus on the immediate zone in front of her, she spots Alexander and the pigeons. And is then interrupted by a sudden violent tickling of her nose. Magic? Where? Even as she slows her jog to a brisk walk, all the better to see if she can approach Alexander looking like a normal person and not winded, she remembers last night's detective's vigil atop a brownstone two blocks over where a guy with a red cloak gave her an apple that followed her around on the roof. "Hey AlexaACHHOO!" There. Sneeze out of her system. Patsy coughs once regardless and slows more as she approaches, eyeing the hell out of those pigeons. They...glow around the edges? "Hey," she tries again, smiling.
Alexander Aaron	Lifting his eyes and turning on his bench seat, Alexander quirks an eyebrow. And sure some people in a similar situation might very well offer an 'I told you so' when their prophecy comes true, this particular Olympian is perhaps above it. Or perhaps hasn't remembered his prediction yet.     A small smile settles on his features as he draws his leg up and murmurs, "Oh hey, Ms. Walker." Her name offered easily enough even as he looks at her then lightly shoos at the pigeons.     The pigeons do not take the hint.     "Good to see you out and about and keeping healthy." Smalltalk.exe engaged even as he gestures to the side at those pigeons.     The pigeons coo and seem to get the message as they then flutter away.
Patsy Walker	"It's a good habit to get into. My dad always said you're not going to leave the world alive, might as well enjoy being healthy while you can." She watches the pigeons with magic limning about their feathers take off into the sky and then gives Alexander a searching look sharp in comparison to her relaxed stance; shifting back and forth from foot to foot gives a sense of readiness, though it's more to keep her legs from cramping. "I didn't think you'd be somebody who hung out with pigeons. Did they eat all of the popcorn already?" the young woman asks, giving Alexander a cherubic little grin. The funny part is that now he too is pinging on her radar, but in the most nebulous and uncertain way, like a word on the tip of one's tongue.
Alexander Aaron	"Oh I wasn't feeding them." Alexander says almost as if offended, though his smile is a little wry, "Start feeding them they never leave you alone." Though which begs the question why they'd be giving him attention in the first place. And then, with the alley-oop topic change, Alexander tilts his head at her, "How's your registration going?"     He turns a little more, completely unaware of how he might be responding to that internal sense of hers, uncurling a hand in her direction. "They sent me this extra envelope in the mail which had all sorts of financial aid questions. I wasn't entirely too keen on some of them."     Then the youth turns his head, looking off in the direction of the pigeons, "Seems like they'd be less intrusive."
Patsy Walker	Patsy nods and, when the young man turns to look off towards the pigeons, rubs at her nose aggressively. God, the tickle just won't leave! A quick sniff and she's back to normal again, hands rested lightly on her hips. "I haven't done any registration yet. I'm still weighing options, like other schools around the city or maybe some private or small group tutoring. I'm pretty used to my freedom to do what I want, when I want, and not have to try and sneak into a lecture because I slept through my alarm." She laughs to herself, glancing back to Alexander. "Those pigeons would only be intrusive if you fed them, I guess. Maybe they're smart enough to start asking for your social security number if you withold popcorn or something."
Alexander Aaron	Around them the world continues to carry on, people walking by, chatting, down the street a man sells bootleg DVDs and hemp hand bags. And above the clouds continue to drift past, giving them spare moments of shadow interspersed with touches of light.     But then Patsy offers those words, and that causes the youth's lips to curl into a smile as he looks back at her, "Identity Thieving Pigeons?" He lets his eyes narrow a little, as if eyeballing her warily for being more of the power behind her brand than the people who worked on it. "Sounds like one of your books."     Then he looks away and scritches the back of his neck, "And ok, maybe I did Google you. A smidge."
Patsy Walker	Patsy tries not to smile harder at the admission, but her effort only goes so far. It's a pert little pursing of lips as she looks away from him briefly, as if to allow him his moment of neck scritching without the spotlight of her attention. Across the way, a store is having seasonal sales on scarves. Ooh, noted. "I'm totally Google-able, it's true," she agrees with a short sigh that barely puffs white in the mild spring morning air. "But Identity Thieving Pigeons aren't part of my current manuscript. Yet. I mean, it's an idea." A hand lifts off her hip briefly. "You find anything fun on Google? Sometimes, people come to me with the wildest gossip about they've found."
Alexander Aaron	One hand reaches out and he lightly taps there on the seat next to him as he murmurs, "Siddown yer making me nervous," Affecting a little of the New York accent, but he smiles wryly, "I found out lots of things. Apparently you're dating Ethan Hawke? I was like, really? That guy is old."     He draws his leg up a little closer, seated half-lotus in a way as he looks across the way toward the scarf sale. Completely misses it. He has no shopping fu. Then turns back toward her, "But apparently you were seen with him at a thing and he held the door for you. So I hear the wedding is in June."     As he says that he nods slowly, "I was a little hurt you didn't mention it, since I liked him in that classic Reality Bites."
Patsy Walker	Alexander's patpating of the bench seat brings the author to a pause, but he has seemed to be without harm thus far and, at this point, her heartrate has slowed enough that it won't make the rest of her run uncomfortable if she does rest for a bit. As such, she sits down, one leg still extended out against cramping of her calf muscle. Hopefully nobody decides to walk by. The current gossip offered up makes Patsy titter, a hand over her mouth. She plucks both earbuds out and pockets them, having silenced the music when she saw the young man. "Funny, I had no idea I was getting married either. If Ethan's around, he hasn't given me a ring yet." Her left hand is lifted and fingers rippled to display an utter lack of jewelry. "What a jerk, not telling me! And he's gone and ruined the surprise by talking to those gossip hounds. Man, I'll have to break up with him again for the third time or something," she decides with a little smirk.
Alexander Aaron	"I'm sure he'll be heart-broken." Alexander offers and then tilts his head toward her curiously. "So, I remember telling you I'd tell you the whole thing about Fate and all that next time we conveniently saw each other by coincidence, right?"     Then those pale blue and jade eyes lift up as if he were looking around, curious and surprised as his hands lift upwards palms out, that universal sign in body language that seems to say, 'Well heck!'     And so he grins and leans against the bench, arm along the back and tells her, "But it's kind of a weird story, you'll have to put on your Hollywood Ears and listen to me without judgment. Like if you believe in crystals and essential oils, it's sorta hippyish like that. Ok?"     Then he nods again, "Ok."
Patsy Walker	"Yeah, I remember you telling me this." Patsy's voice and smile go quieter both. She watches his hand gestures and giggles to herself again. Her own hands end up rested in her lap, ankles crossed at their showings of safety-orange socks against black leggings and shoes, and she tilts her head slightly, silently indicating how she's listening. "Okay. I mean, I like citrus oils, if that counts for anything," she adds, smiling to one side of her mouth.
Alexander Aaron	"So, reason I believe that stuff." Alexander starts, but then stops himself, "I mean, not the crystals and oils." He takes a breath then seems to realize something, "I mean, some crystals and oils are magical, just not... you know, the normal ones. Anyways."     "My belief in Fate is rooted in magic, but more like. My family is kind of magical, and we have this history. And this connection to the Fates." Capital F.     "For me, I sort of have this tendency to meet people and at this point in my life I can sort of get a feeling for who is going to play a part in it. Who is going to come back into my life, who might be a friend, or an enemy. Things like that. Since, the Fates..."     He takes a deep breath, "They're really these petty annoying creatures that like to sometimes tweak people and throw things at them just to see the craziness they can create. Right?"
Patsy Walker	Her steel-blue eyes continue to rest upon Alexander as he speaks. Slowly, her brows knit, but she keeps her peace. Her attention meanders from his face and to his hands, back to his face once more, attempting to mark tells here and there as a gauge to his fervor in his belief. "Right," Patsy echoes, and despite her efforts, she can't keep a shadow of dubiousness from her tone. "I mean, I understand where you're coming from as a base concept. It's a little crazy that I ran into you again so soon after talking with you over by the campus. The world is a small place and even if this city's a big one, it's small sometimes too. You really think I've got a part to play in your life though?" she asks, honestly interested in the answer.
Alexander Aaron	"Yah," Alexander says, "And I know it's a bit to swallow. But it also comes with another edge." The youth grimaces a little as he looks to the side and seems to be weighing something, as if full confession would be better, or partial, or small insight. He takes a deep breath and holds it, then turns to look back at her.     "So those pigeons were magical. Spirits, really. I sometimes meet with a fair amount of them because they like to talk to people like me. Petition things, speak about scuttlebutt, that sort of thing." And he can tell he might well be losing her so he crinkles his nose. "But also sometimes they're not as nice and they often go after people who hang out with me."     He points at her, "You, have more control over your fate in some ways, so you could like decide, 'This guy is a freak, and I'm going to run away now.' and it'd probably work. Since the Fates are more interested in giving me a hard time than you."     A pause, "Does that make sense?"
Patsy Walker	Patsy blinks. Her eyebrows dance up and her mouth purls into a small rounding of surprise at his words, especially at the pigeons and the revelation that those popcorn-snatching feathered city-rats are full of conniving conversations. "It...actually does make sense." Her manicured fingernails fret at a stray thread coming loose from the outer stitching of her leggings. She speaks without looking at Alexander now. "I could tell that the pigeons were magical, but now //how// they were magical. It seems like...you're kind of magical too, actually, but I can't figure out //how// either. I can see and sense things sometimes that aren't...normal, I guess. I was two blocks over last night and ran into a guy who gave me an apple that was kind of eerie," she shares, now returning her gaze to Alexander again. "He wasn't some evil witch or anything and the apple didn't follow me home. I think."
Alexander Aaron	At that some of the hesitation seems to fade, if she has some insight into that, some added perspective. It makes things easier, "Well there you go. Yeah." He uncurls a hand and gestures to the side, indicating the greater world in part as he murmurs, "I mean there's not a lot of them running around, but here and there you'll see."     Then it's back to her as he murmurs, "So basically, I think we're going to be friends, and it's always good to give people a heads up about it. Since it can be a mess down the line..."     But then his brow furrows one hand resting on his shin as he adjusts his leg a little, perhaps trying to stop it from falling asleep. "Though, I suppose you can say that about any and all relationships."     He perks, "I mean, probably not that kind of relationship. I don't want to have Ethan Hawke show up on my doorstep for seducing his fiance or something." A smirk graces his features as he looks away, chewing his lower lip with a smile at that image conjured.
Patsy Walker	Startled at the sudden boomerang back into a far less serious topic, the redhead laughs again. Shaking her head up at the sky, she stretches out her toes in a point before settling her hands interlaced across her stomach. "I'm not dating Ethan Hawke, oh my god," Patsy complains, extending out the last word appropriately in her amused disdain. "Even if I was, he would be able to handle us being friends or get kicked to the curb. I don't do overbearing men." A finger lifts and wags back and forth, tsk-tsk. "I mean, it's trippy to think about. Fated to be friends?" Alexander gets one of those measuring looks and then a squint. "I'm okay with it, since you seem harmless. You have this...wispy aura about you though that's really interesting to look at though. It's like the heat rising off the pavement in summer, you know?"
Alexander Aaron	"Ah, 'harmless', what every cool guy likes to hear." Alexander offers in rejoinder, smirking and shaking his head as he shifts his weight to the side, finally letting his foot drop from his lap and back upon the ground. His nose crinkles with feigned distaste as he looks up toward the sky.     But then he cants his head back to her, "But really you can see my aura?" He looks thoughtful as he takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment. Those irises disappear behind his eyelids as he closes them, trying to focus and steadies his breathing. Low and slow for about ten seconds... twelve. Then his lips part, "How about now?"     And likely if she were to focus intensely she might still see something there about the youth, something to stand out, but the rest of the semblance might well have faded. Leaving him looking less like a heat shimmer and more like a faint wavering of his outline.
Patsy Walker	'How about now', the blond asks of her. Patsy turns in her seat to better see him. It means bringing in her ankles, still crossed, to tuck beneath the bench and tip toes to the cement. She peers closely and then jolts back in realization that he's... "Whoa, you're transparent -- translucent -- opaque -- holy crap," the writer breathes. She dares to lean in closer now in order to attempt to better see his vague outline. "I can see where your body is, but it's only barely there. Like, my brain has to work to decide your body be there." This close, a whiff of her perfume in mandarin and rose might be caught within the ambient melange of car exhaust and the city itself.
Alexander Aaron	"Hnh," The Olympian youth ponders her for a time, letting his breathing return to normal and likely solidifying his aura for her in that moment. He taps a fingertip upon the back seat of that bench thoughtfully, gaze lifting to the side, wandering as he looks up and down the street a little.     One hand uncurls, "I'm going to try something. But I need you to promise to be strong and brave. I'm not going to hurt you, and you have nothing to be afraid of." For a time he searches her eyes, gaze flitting back and forth as if seeking some form of reassurance that she might be able to give non-verbally.     He takes a deep breath and turns to fully face her. "Just, tell me when you're feeling you're ready. Alright?"
Patsy Walker	Alexander does come back into clearer view with each breath he takes. It's fascinating to watch and those steel-blue eyes behind their dark lashes don't deviate for a moment as the young man comes fully back to visual presence. When he looks away, Patsy does too. Fingernails scratch at the mild itch of drying sweat at her scalp beneath her gathered hair as she watches a taxi turn the corner, sunlight gleaming off its chrome wheels enough to grab her attention. "Hmm?" Her brows knit for a moment as she glances back at Alex. "I'm...ready." Her nails curl up against her stomach again and she inhales, straightening her spine. Even if there was a hint of a cautious question in her tone, she does appear readied for all intents and purposes.
Alexander Aaron	As he murmured those quiet words to her, 'nothing to be afraid of,' she might have felt a subtle lessening of that tension, just enough to steal those first few moments of trepidation. It might well help her through the next few seconds as she'll see him there, in the middle of the daylight, the backdrop behind him simple and normal and without worthy remark beyond the flicker of people moving and walking as they go about their business.     "Alright ready?" There's a moment where she would have to ready...     And then there is darkness, a rush of nothingness which exists for a fraction of a second. Only for it to be torn away like a veil ripped off of reality with a furious and rage-filled claw, tearing apart that dark to present just wavering red and black heat burning in the background where for one moment there was the world and now there is just rage and hate.     But that is not the worst aspect of it. As there in front of her is a black figure in onyx armor seeming to glisten with that same burning fire, molten lava roiling underneath those plates, and upon its face is a crested helmet with a heavy stone visor pulled down into place that looks like some hideous caricature of the theatrical mask depicting Tragedy, only this Tragedy has slipped further beyond the pale, the face seeming to be utter Terror as its empty black sockets quail with such fear. Even as she'll hear a voice coming from it, that creature seeming to be in a posture to leap and rend her asunder just as the dark was torn.     << There... did it work? >> The voice echoes, hollow and filled with such roiling despair.     And then another face slashes around from the back of that great helmet, snapping into place on the front as if it had always been there, like a cackling hate-filled thing the counterpoint to Tragedy, only this isn't just Comedy, it is malicious writhing happiness take in such misery. A smiling leering stone face that does not move yet seems all the more animated for it.     << Are you alright? >> Says the voice, now seeming to be laughing.     And as quick as that it all disappears, shut down instantly.
Patsy Walker	Patsy goes white as a sheet. The visions before her are a pale mirror to what she'd seen those years back in a place she'd rather forget with all her might. Hands clap to her face and cover her eyes against it even as the entire affair disappears, reality pulled back down like a tablecloth from a grand setting. She quivers and hiccups once, palms pressed before her lips in what would look like prayer if it weren't praying in the least. "Uhhhhhhhh." It shudders out in a whispery jitter. "That's...a...singular ability," she manages, her voice still trembling as she holds herself very still on the bench. Another few seconds linger on with her eyes firmly scrunched shut and her mind rapidly anchoring herself in the present. Car engines. People talking. Those pigeons cooing nearby. The wind. Cold metal beneath her thighs. The warmth of the sun on her face. Fingernails quickly pinch at her lip and it stings: good, she's actually where she is. Relief slowly melts through her frame. Regardless, she wipes under her eyes quickly and gives Alexander a trembly smile. "I'm alright, I promise. That was just...pretty freaking scary."
Alexander Aaron	He returns to the normal, still that teen-aged youth in his MISFITS t-shirt, still with those hazel eyes seeking her own. A touch of worry is there in the way his eyebrows come together, but it's disconcerting. That curious posture of his leaning toward her so like that figure in the vision. He extends a hand, "Hey, m'sorry. Mebbe I should've given you more warning."     "But wow you really do have a way to perceive those things. That's pretty special." He seems about to touch her but then thinks better and draws his hand back.     There's a brief flicker of a cloud over his features, perhaps on some level half-expecting her to rush off now that she has more insight. He gives a nod and murmurs, "I told you my family is... well they're weird." Which is true.
Patsy Walker	"Your family is really frickin' weird if that's how your genes panned out." Patsy again wipes under her eyes and sniffles once. Her hands still cling to her upper arms and she trembles now and then, but she does appear to have a sense of composure about herself. "I'm not trying to undermine you, but I've seen scarier things than that, so...thanks for not being as scary as those things." Her laugh is weak, more a hiccough than anything else, but the young woman is trying to rally. Her steel-blue eyes find his. "Do me a favor though and don't do that again unless you need to? Or warn me again the next time? I think...I'm pretty sure I can get around it so I don't get hit by it next time."
Alexander Aaron	"Sure," Alexander nods, his head bobbing a little. Knowing that the revelation of his 'self' is scary, but in the greater things perhaps not as scary as some. "So..."     The young man tilts his head the other way, watching her though there's concern in his eyes, as if having revealed that to her he might have hurt her in some way, or perhaps even damaged their budding friendship.     "How is it you can see auras of magical people?" He asks leaning more against the bench's back and lifting his chin a little. "You're the first person that's said as much to me. And I've met a lot of strange mystical types who were never the wiser."
Patsy Walker	Her eyes rise from her hands in her lap. It brings Patsy's face to perfect profile as she looks across the street, back towards that scarf sale sign without reading it in truth; it's just some words and numbers that make soothing sense right now. Her cheeks still hold a light mottled blush of emotional reaction, but it seems to be fading with how she sits and breathes, not immediately answering Alexander. "...I don't know how to explain it without sounding crazy, so just...take me at my words that I was someplace for a while and when I came back, I was able to see things I hadn't seen before. Maybe I'm wiser too...?" Her shrug is almost more of a cringe and she huffs a weak laugh, again more hiccough than amusement. "It's hard for me to find the silver lining to it, but if I don't, it'll just make me feel like a crazy person. So! Yes. I came out of it stronger and able to see what I guess is magical stuff -- auras, yeah, things like that. If a place or person is super magical, it makes me sneeze." A short, hard sigh and she glances over at Alexander again, her expression solemn. "I'm glad you don't think I'm crazy. It took me a long time to figure out what was going on and I'm still not sure I'm right some days."
Alexander Aaron	"Well," Alexander smiles and reaches a hand out gingerly, ready to draw it back at the slightest hint of hesitation. But should he not see it he'll give her shoulder a small squeeze of reassurance. "The proof is in the pudding and all. You've shown me you're for real."     There's a moment where he nibbles on his lower lip, gaze distancing as he murmurs to her. "I sort of had a similar thing happen to me. Was taken away from my dad when I was ten. Taken by this..." His eyes lift as he tries not to sound like it's so much crazy, "God of evil. And he turned me against my family. Fought them, almost killed my dad. And it all just... sucked."     "Like really sucked." He murmurs and uncurls a hand, "And when I came through it I was one of them. My family and all. Made the transition from just a kid to more than a kid."
Patsy Walker	The gentle weight of his hand on her shoulder makes the author eye it before its owner, but she doesn't cringe away. As if proving something to herself, Patsy stays still and gives him a weak smile. "Good," she says very quietly of his reassurance. His words bring her to turn to face him a little more. Hands curled up in her lap clench tighter in sympathetic reaction. "...what the hell," she murmurs, lips a thin slash now. "That sounds like somebody with delusions of Vaudevillian grandeur got hold of you -- I'm sorry. I don't mean to make it sound trite, that's really awful. What the frick. I mean, I normally wouldn't believe you about gods and stuff, but, like..." She shrugs, meaning to encompass the last minute or so of objective reality.
Alexander Aaron	Sympathy is there in his eyes, trying to watch and gauge, hoping against hope to not having upset her too much. He does take a deep breath and then heaves a small chuckle at the last few words she offers.     "As to that," Alexander says as he draws his hand back. "So my family." He opens a hand towards her and says, "They're... Olympian gods." And as he says that he nods once, clearly biting his lip and expecting more pushback on that.     "My dad, is Ares. I'm his son, the um. God of Fear." A pause, then he adds. "So you can likely understand my reluctance."
Patsy Walker	Patsy outright stares. "Holy shit." It slips from her mouth without thought and it does take another second before she realizes it. "Mmm. Normally I'm not one to cuss," she says still distractedly, her brows quirked. "Just...okay, so..." She lifts her hands up now, palms out towards him, silently asking for a moment to consolidate what has been learned. "So, all that is...one of your...god powers. The scary stuff, I mean. And...your dad is...the God of...War, if my vague memories of history class in high school apply here. You're a god." The way her eyes fall to his arm makes it clear she's thinking of poking at him to see if he's any more or less squishy than a standard human. "Um. You...don't really...I mean...you look so...normal," the redhead decides awkwardly.
Alexander Aaron	"Well, I was normal before the whole... craziness. My dad was Ares. I was mostly mortal." Alexander tries to explain it in his own inimitable way, eyes slipping to the side as he tries to order his thoughts and then looking back to her. "And that wasn't me using my powers, more me like... letting myself be myself? Usually I try to stay somewhat hidden because," He flares his hands, "The Fates are jerks."     That said he smiles a little at her, "But yeah, I gained the mantle of Phobos by ascending in Olympus and being found acceptable. Which was a weird thing in and of itself. I've only been a God for about three years. Others have been there for ages and ages."     That said he nods, "So like I said, weird."
Patsy Walker	"Sooooooo...." Patsy ripples her fingers across her own thigh. "You're...actually Phobos, God of Fear, but you go by Alexander...and you have terrible taste in college logos." Her addendum, perfectly normal, is enough to set her to laughing. It does have a slightly hysterical tinge to it, but the deluge of relief it brings in its wake is enough to have her clutching at her stomach and with a hand over her mouth both. It doesn't last long, the affair. "Oh-ho...ohhhhhh dear." Knuckle's edge beneath her lashes removes loose mascara and then she's laughing a few more staccato times. "I've already pinched myself, I know I'm awake. This is very weird," she finally agrees.
Alexander Aaron	"Hey. I like my taste in college logos." Alexander says defensively, giving her a side-eye glower as if rethinking this whole friendship thing. But then his lips twist into a smirk as he turns and leans back against the seat of the bench, sliding one foot up to rest it on the sat and wrap his arms around the knee.     "Should I mention my magical sword too? I totally have a magical sword." He nods there a few times and then murmurs, "But yeah. I'm like, I'd say, 95% normallish." A hand uncurls, "Trying to go to school do my thing. Though I'd appreciate if you didn't run around telling folks. Some people know but not that many, and I don't exactly run around fighting crime. I mainly just hang out."
Patsy Walker	"I get it, I write books for a living. It's...not always fun having all of these amazing powers and things. I mean, you have this sword somewhere and I have my cloak that vanishes things. It's pretty fun. Kind of...kind of like a personal storage space. I've got a lot of things in there to grab, like a pen and pad if I have to take notes or...a hairbrush," she decides. "I haven't stashed anything extremely important there since sometimes I don't get stuff back." Another shift on the bench is Patsy crossing her legs at the knee. "I'm not going to go around telling people about you, don't worry. That's a stupid idea. Not only will they not believe me, but they'll give me a look like they want to thrown me into a white padded room if I try to explain how I figured it out. So...guess our secrets are safe with each other." She shrugs, hands now stuck in her coat pockets, steel-blue eyes back on Alexander.
Alexander Aaron	As Patsy can actually seem to bond with Alexander on this at least, his lips curl into a smile, a little wider than normal. "That's kinda cool." He uncurls a hand as she explains how she has a spare space in the universe, "I can just do it with my sword. It shows up when I want it to, and voila."     "And hey, thanks. I mean I don't... care hugely? Just it can make things complicated. Or people get mad. Or want me to do tricks and junk."     His nose crinkles a little at the idea. "But see..." He grins and seems to come to life a little more, "Check out all these coincidences and things." Then he nods once, "Fate." As if this finally proved his point about the whole thing.
Patsy Walker	"Fate," echoes the author almost to herself. She nods a few times and glances up at the sky, where the clouds continue scuttling over and around the sun. "It's crazy business, this Fate stuff. But hey, life's a crazy place to live, if you think about it. This city is so full of magic, I'm surprised that most people don't notice it. I mean, it's to our advantage, I guess. I have no idea what people would do if they knew you were a god of fear or I could see things beyond the pale." Patsy seems to feel something in her pocket by how she looks down -- ah, her earbuds. "Guess we're meant to be friends after all. Boy, it sucks to be you. You're going to have to deal with my Hollywood affairs all of the time." Alexander gets a smirking side-eye.
Alexander Aaron	"Shyah, and that Ethan guy getting all jealous when we hang out." Alexander nods a few times solemnly, carrying that off straight-faced for a good bit until his smirk twists his features. "I mean, I suppose I could ask him for Winona Ryder's number, she's still pretty cute and all." Omg that jerk.     But then he looks across the way at her and murmurs, "But see you're all chipper now, but wait until one of my uncles decides to try and seduce you just to get at me or my dad. And then voila, you'll be all, 'ohmigod Alex, you're such a jerk and your family are weird.'"     He rests his hand on his knee and smirks at her sidelong as well, "And I'll be all, 'Told you so.'"
Patsy Walker	"Look, if one of your relatives tries to seduce me, I'm going to have some words with them and then inform you that you're related to douchebags," comes the pert retort even as Patsy fishes out her earbuds. "That, and we both know good old Ethan Hawke isn't going to be happy OR give you Ryder's number. He'll be too mad at you and your relatives." Rising to her feet, the redhead adds, "And that's //if// I were dating him. I'm a bigger fan of James D'Arcy anyways. If he comes asking you about me, you tell him only the good things, got it, bud?" Alexander gets a grin recovered from the scare, it seems, and trusting enough with all things considered. "I need to finish my run now and get back to my manuscript. You tell those pigeons what-for, okay?" A fist is offered out for a potential bump, perhaps a bit out-dated as as gesture but well-intentioned nonetheless.
Alexander Aaron	"Yeah, to be fair," Alexander lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck thoughtfully and lets his eyes slip to the side, "My relatives are... almost like, universally, all jerks. To a man. And to a woman really. Even Athena, though she's nicer than most."     That said he looks back at her and grins, "Oh c'mon, I could totally charm the pants of Ethan." But then he blinks and ahems, "I mean, you know, not that way." Then another pause, "Well okay, maybe I could. But he'd totally dig me and we'd be buds, I like to imagine."     That having been said he grins and uncurls his hand toward her, palm up, "But alright, James D'Arcy. Who is that again?" And then his fist bumps heres with the token required 'boooj' sound effect signifying an explosion.
Patsy Walker	A faint echo of the explosion follows before Patsy chuckles once. "Oh, come on, Alexander, I know you don't live under a rock if you can name Ethan Hawke and tell me what he's in. D'Arcy's British, he's been in a lot of historical movies -- and Master and Commander. You know, Dunkirk, stuff like that. There's no accounting for taste though, I know." One earbud goes in and then the other, and the young man gets a final half-arc of a wave as the author then moves to start jogging away. "See you when Fate decides again, I guess." Off she goes, working towards the easy lope she had attained some time back, and the graceful young woman disappears off into the Village again, soothed by the music at her ears and knowledge that nothing bad had come of making a new friend.