Owner	Pose
Jane Foster	What an arresting sight, a slender spire punctuates the endless starry climes through which Attilan perpetually endures. The Tower of Vision marks a departure from anything that Jane knows, though the many visits to world capitals and great metropolises gives her a better grounding than some might have. The great blue globe floating over the horizon certain provides a staggeringly pretty backdrop. She cranes her head to better see the proud, alien contours of the building. A place of wonders and mysteries from a long-ago era lies tantalizingly within reach, and absolutely off-limits. <<It leads me to ask. Was this already here and your people had a homecoming to Attilan, or did they construct this?>> The notion of someone raising the tower in the shadows of the Great War leaves her mildly bemused, still trying to wrap her head around the divergences from a known history to the secret tales of a hidden people embodied best in Blackagar. <<Truly, it's a lovely thing. I can imagine you as a child being told stories of what lay inside, if in a hushed voice, rich with respect and reverence. Or was it treated as more of a treasury only suited for those visionaries among the Inhumans?>>
Blackagar Boltagon	Blackagar is also looking towards the spires of his city, the home of his people. Blue eyes are contemplative, perhaps even a little bit on the side of sentimental. Who does not have such inklings when faced with their home? <<Attilan existed before the Inhumans. We /believe/ it may have been constructed by ancient species who visited Earth, perhaps even the Kree. Legend says the first Inhumans lived here until a schism broke the people. Some went out into the world, where they mated with humans and this is where the genetics that we see in people such as Daisy originate. Others remained in the city. Over time we have mastered the technology of the city, added to it and evolved it, but much of it was here before we were. So it is difficult to know where we begin with the city and others end.>> There's a long moment of considering before he smirks, <<It is a bit of both. The truth is if one considers seeing the future is less appealing then you would believe. There are many stories of those going in coming out mad from what they have seen, unable to bear the burden of visions and possibilities. To see the past, the present, the future all at once and knowing that all could be possibilities and not certainties is a burden heavy enough to shatter a mind.>>
Jane Foster	<<Mated. Is that how you perceive it, or how the tales tell? I don't often hear us speak of mating with the Spanish, but then I'm certain one of my ancestors complained the French had tails. Five centuries ago, that is.>> Jane likely teases about that, but an easy prospect to imagine. Her name inevitably comes from the British Isles or Ireland, and their views of France hardly advanced beyond Inhuman views of Alpha-Primitives until the last couple years. Relatively speaking, that is. <<Fascinating. I wondered how such a place could be built, especially given certain technological restrictions. Though for all I know, that man we saw when the terrigen mists were supposed to be released in New York could have built it, with the odd powers he had.>> That ghost still haunts the greater world, a terrible shadow staining them all. She holds her breath not one bit to await his return, a vicious king deprived of ruling. Far different from Blackagar himself. She approaches him, hand reaching for his. <<I am content knowing what I do, for the most part. My work already looks into the far past, and we extrapolate the future all the time. Astronomy is the study of might-be and once-was, and I need no alien crystal ball to show me glimpses. Don't our minds do that for us enough? Fantasizing all day long, and perhaps prospects more possible than not bloom with ease.>>
Blackagar Boltagon	<<No, he was not the one. The construction from our estimates is tens of thousands of years ago. This location, here on the moon, is actually a former Kree research facility. The city was relocated here since it had an atmosphere, the shield which conceals it and provides access to some artifacts although after the years anything of use has been gathered. Now the children use it as a playground.>> Humor lifts softly in him as he shares that thought. Kids playing with technology that is considered antiquated. Her hand is taken, when she reaches, he receives it. <<And which prospects fill your thoughts?>>
Jane Foster	She tilts her head up to admire the shield that provides the artificial atmosphere keeping at least Daisy and Jemma breathing. Her own body is unaffected by such things, either in suspended animation or other forms. Not to say that she cannot inhale to indulge the pleasure of breathing the lunar air, or marvelling it's possible at all. <<How an ancient people might have constructed this? I imagine you have plenty of archaeo-engineers and paleo-technologists eager to learn more?>> The question is laid there with the light touch hidden between their thoughts, an assurance to Blackagar he does not have to answer. Their boundaries prove plentiful and respected, after all. Some matters do not need to be touched upon. <<Children using such artifacts for their forts and castles has been happening as long as there were children. Our parents did it, and ours will crawl all over the devices we remembered as possibly modern, thinking them hopelessly out of date while earning amused smiles.>> His arm draws her in, though she negotiates her way to stand at Blackagar's side and admire the celestial harmonies of alien landscape and lunar fantasy together. <<All manner of prospects. I believe there's the matter of moon dust and its pernicious ability to get everywhere to be discussed, isn't there?>> Her smile widens. <<I wonder at the view from the top of that tower. Do you ever find yourself wandering through Attilan as you do New York or Paris, hunting for a different perspective? We are here, I would know what /your/ view of /your/ city is. However we choose it to be. Kree artifacts of course are fascinating, but if you have a favourite corner or some place you wish to walk with me, and it's appropriate, I would like to see things through your eyes.>> Or thoughts.
Blackagar Boltagon	The question does give him pause, certainly to ponder but more to truly give it weight. Finally when the response comes it is less than light, but rather a heavy one. <<I spent most of my life never in the city, but rather in a chamber, as you know. My first time to walk these streets was to run to try and stop the attempt to kill my parents. I was lost. Yet somehow I knew where to go, but I was lost in the city itself. I had seen maps, studied of course, but there is a gap between knowledge and experience.>> He looks a bit, almost as if seeing a younger Blackagar scrambling through the streets. In his mind it can be seen, a teen running with abandon attempting to get to the port. <<A week after finally leaving the chamber I ran the streets and went to desperately do something. Destruction. Death. Those things that followed, I went back to my chamber, back into reclusion with the heavy blame I felt. Since then it? This city is both a home, but also a grave. A constant reminder of failure in many ways. I do not really walk the streets in that way. I do not wander. When I am here it is with purpose, intent.>>
Jane Foster	<<I know you were not free to walk it how you would. But I wonder if you ever came back to walk among Attilan's avenues or know it high to low. I feel though I have given insult and sorrow without meaning to. I am sorry to turn over a stone that revealed unhappy things beneath.>> Her hand squeezes his, fingers curling around his and mirroring the length of each digit, the shape of his palm in a softer scale. <<I understand why you should be reluctant. I am here, either way. Content if we were never to leave our chamber, if you preferred. Your hospitality is leaving nothing amiss..>> Her mouth turns down slightly, reprocessing what he has said, reframing it all. <<I'm sorry, love.>>
Blackagar Boltagon	Blackagar blinks, looking at Jane with an expression that conveys what he feels as well. Skepticism, humor, and dismissal. Not of her words but perhaps of the sentiment. A soft shake of his head follows, <<You did none of those things. There are many things that can be thought of as unhappy, this is part of life. Avoiding them does not alleviate them. There were times perhaps that I did want to know the ins and outs of the city, and I do believe I have a firm grasp of her. But it is not quite the same.>> His hand squeezes back tightly to reassure. <<Sometimes what is familiar becomes ordinary. New is different and enticing. Much like how you feel looking at the Attilan is how I feel on the Earth Cities. And I recognize that it is the opposite. You are gazing on something that /no human/ has ever seen before, at least not in hundreds of years.>> He smiles, <<There is no need to apologize. And there is no hiding in a chamber to take place. You are here to see something, to experience, I am not going to limit that because of the occassional recollection that stirs a memory. However, this is my home, but also my place of work. Being a monarch is not just about living, but also as you said, knowing the ins and outs, but doing what can be done within it.>>
Jane Foster	Her expression carries that deep curiosity and a wellspring of patience and openness to him. Whatever the Midnight King would read of her, she offers up to him without preamble. The soft brush of a sigh leaves her lips, coloured by the weighty affection that lingers as strongly as gravity pulls on Moon and Earth. Her thumb strokes over his knuckles, painting a crescent moon in cool movements. She brushes her arm to his, then settles into his side, daring to brave a general display of lingering affection. <<The familiar can be turned on its head when witnessed by another. Or through another. I like discoveries and new things as much as anything but when it comes down to my life, I crave something a little different. The enticing is what I know, what reflects values I share.>> A laugh ripples around them both, soaring warmth lifting them up. <<I don't know what I have done to earn your affection and good counsel, Blackagar, but I am grateful. /This/ is worth a lifetime. I'm on the /Moon/! By your grace, I am so very lucky.>> Face it, he's getting a hug, and she kisses his cheek. <<How very much do I love you. If the prospect of war comes, I will be glad for this.>>