[John F. Kennedy International Airport] Fortunate Son

James only managed to reply,"Frankincense, wine, blood were his preferred offerings. Anything high in trans fat or stimulants might be acceptable offerings in the modern time." He was going explain why those might be acceptable offerings or the fact the anything associated with violence and war would also be acceptable, but Ares noticed them first. Perhaps that was not the best way to put it. Ares had known of their presence for a long time. Ares was as connected to James as James was to Ares. Knowledge of the ancient rituals and customs associated with Ares flowed into James's mind through that connection. James walked forward, listening to Ares's words. He felt the subtle manipulation of reality and noticed the flat white with vanilla on the table designating his place to sit. Before he sat down James motioned toward Ares and said,"Anwir, I have the honor of formally introducing you to Ánax Ares, Teikhæsiplítis, Skiptoukhos. God of war, violence, bloodlust, bloodshed, murder, and conflict." The ancient Greek epithets for Ares flowed off his tongue with ease. There were many more, but James believed going overboard would only serve to annoy Ares rather than endear him to the God. James felt confident Ares couldn't kill him, at least not without suffering consequences. That wouldn't stop him from slaughtering everyone in New York city, or finding another way to make his life miserable. He gestured to Theresa and said,"I would also like to introduce you to Doctor Theresa Brooks, my aunt." James didn't bother to hide the connection between him and his aunt. He knew full well if Ares wanted too, he could look through all of James's life and find the connection. James shouldn't have been surprised that his aunt was here, because of course she would be here. She had this habit of being at the location of important events. James always thought it had something to do with her skill with divinatory magic, but perhaps there was something else there. Something to look into in the future, when he would inevitably not have time to do so. James sat down giving Ares a polite smile and said,"Forgive the formality. As Hierophant and Prophet of the Gods I am bound by certain mystical laws and traditions." He took a sip of his drink to mask the annoyance he knew that would come to his face after speaking those words. It annoyed him that he didn't fully understand or know those laws and traditions until they came up. It made navigating the world and doing his job more difficult than it needed to be. He continued and said,"She is doing good. In her wisdom she has been preparing me to assist the Sorcerer Supreme with a coming threat." He left out that she was being deliberately vague. For all he knew, Stephen Strange could be the very threat she was preparing him to deal with. As if that would get him any good will within the Community. He only cared because it would only serve to make his life more difficult if he was considered to have gone rogue by the Community. It was also not a particularly kind thing to force upon his new apprentice. He just hoped Anwir kept his magic under control. James did not need him accidentally blowing up a Starbucks and injuring everyone here. While Ares might find it hilarious, it could also be the final spark to set him off.

Admittedly, Theresa had not made that offer out of the kindness of her heart. The less mundanes roped into his nonsense the better, even if it is for something as simple as lodging... "As you wish," she says, face ever devoid of emotion. Something to keep an eye on... or let her nephew handle. She isn't sure if he has what it takes to stand up to a God when they hold his purse strings, so to speak. Worst comes to worst, she can drop a line to Constantine. But it would have to be world endingly worst. The man is... indelicate, she supposes is the kindest way to describe the bastard. Strange as the middle ground, then? 

She has so much tea for Salem. This will be absolutely decadent later.

Theresa never did like that James was so beholden to the Gods like this... The golden thread that connects him to Ares, for all its power it granted him, was nothing more than a leash. Her hand goes to her forearm, covered in a thick dark cloth of modest clothing, pressing into her burns. No. James doesn't deserve a noose like hers. 

Whatever smile she had before is gone, her countenance aloof and distant as it usually is. When she speaks now, there is no emotion, or at least she seems to be utterly impartial and calm, perhaps like a well seasoned therapist. "James, darling, very good to see you. Ares found me like a lamb, made sure to get a warm cuppa in me," she says, shifting her attention from him to the young man with him. "Anwir," she says, testing the name, flicking her eyes to James. Was it wise to bring someone so new to magic to Ares? Of course she knows he is fresh, might as well be hanging a sign from his neck. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Anwir, though I prefer Doctor," she says, extending her hand to him. He can take it as rudeness, especially because of her now rather stern demeanor, or a reasonable request from a woman used to being demeaned. 

Theresa makes a move to stand, then pauses, the smell of smoke emanating from her. She cannot move, it seems, and is bound to this location. No, her work here is not yet done, not as she feels the the invisible ropes around her body tighten and pull her back down.

"... I was just answering a question of Ares'. You arrived with perfect timing, James and Anwir," Theresa says, not even a hint of the pain she is feeling in her tone or face. "That is what I do, Anwir, I am an observer of history, and occasionally I shed light on what is to come. While the easiest way to describe what I am is Seer, much of my knowledge is rooted firmly in the past. As long as there have been humans, I know of their suffering."

James gave a polite smile to Ares saying the titles were unnecessary. Except for James they were. The backlash of breaking those rules would not be kind to him. He gained power from his connection to the gods and other cosmic entities, but in return for that power there were constraints. Not acknowledging an entity in its entirety could be dangerous. To understand a thing you needed to know its true names. Something in James suspected Ares was just a fragment of a much larger entity. Did the gods even truly understand what they were, or did they lie to themselves just like the mortals did? James had seen the lies the gods told themselves. It seemed they weren't above their own delusions. James's eyes went to Anwir for a moment, appreciating the amount of respect and decorum he was showing. James did not know the gods to be so introspective, but if Destruction of the Endless could have an existential crisis about his purpose than perhaps so could a god. James replied,"We are who we are. Even if we, or others, don't always understand who that is."  He gave a pause before continuing,"As for Athena. You are not the threat. She couldn't direct me against you even if she wanted to. Confronting you would have to be entirely my choice with no strings being pulled. I have made many poor choices in my life, but I'm not about to pick a fight with a god. I'm good at what I do, but picking a fight with a you, or any other god, is a one way trip to an audience with Death." He gave a wry smile at the mention of the Fates. He had met Destiny once. Calling the meeting incredibly enlightening and incredibly perplexing was an understatement. He paused for a moment considering his words,"I'm here because you're here. It's my job to enact your will and be your voice. It's been a while since any of you have come to physical reality. It peaked my curiosity."

"While we have familial ties, we are not truly related," Theresa says, taking a sip of her tea, rather unbothered. Her eyes move to James. "We share no blood. I am adopted," she clarifies. Something crosses her eyes, eyebrows twitching. "James, you didn't know," she says, turning to him. "I am not even Homo Magi," she continues, thinking on this, following that line of thought. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to reveal something so..." she starts,  then sighs very slightly. "Personal," she settles on. James essentially grew up with her- the amount of times she blurted out an inconvenient or unwanted truth is staggering.

While Ares and James caught up, Theresa turns her attention to the young man next to her. He is so fresh, she can almost smell the blood spilled by his mother to birth him clinging to his hair. Her screams settle instead on her ears, the grunts of the pushes- 

"It is okay. I am not angry, I do not think less of you. If you continue despite my wishes... well, then we shall reevaluate," Theresa says, voice distant as she watches his mother hold him for the first time. So much love. So much hope. Enough to protect him from his father, enough to know when someone else would do a better job, enough to give him up. A leap of faith. She looks into her teacup, it overflowing from the tears his mother shed for him, for her love, for what could have been, for what will never be.

"Mm?" Theresa says, pulling herself out of her reverie. "Oh. I know all things, all history, all arcana. I am afraid that so much of our history is written in the ink of blood, sweat, and tears. It is sometimes clear, sometimes obscured, sometimes fully hidden. Having stimuli helps, like meeting you. Before, you were not at the forefront of my thoughts, now you are, and you have been laid bare before me like a story I cannot stop reading. It is best if I distance myself, keep my emotions my own, as if I do not, then it is overwhelming. Childhood was difficult, but adulthood has been far more forgiving," Theresa answers him freely. She doesn't seem to mind answering questions at all. "Most simply ignore me. It is a part of who I am. Allows me in places I shouldn't be," she continues.

"The world is what it is, Anwir. Though we do magic and can impress our perspectives on the world, I am not delusional like most people. Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away," Theresa says, thinking on Phillip K Dick... "It is a rather constant stream. I have found it easier to be in a place like New York City, as it will become white noise," she explains to him. 

Ah... a question she has not been asked before. "Yes and no. My knowledge does not affect it, but rather my place in the world does. It is like I am merely an observer, you see. Sometimes the glass between me and the world is rather thick, and other times it is a mesh net. If I am very lucky, I will be noticed. If the Fates are kind, they allow me moments like these. If I am truly blessed, perhaps I will even be touched," she says, lifting her tea to her lips. It tastes of salt. Her thoughts drift to Strange, his hand on hers, the warmth she had forgotten...

"What of you, child? You have only met my nephew, and you are here. Do you feel safe? Is he taking care of you?" she asks. "I am jumping ahead. I will ask again soon. Instead- why did you quit school? You have such a bright mind, you were almost there. Do you need help? I am a professor at Columbia."

James gave Theresa a curious look at her mention of reality. His aunt had always had a unique talent of saying things that caught his attention. He wasn't sure if she was making a sly reference to his hallucinations or his knack for warping reality through illusions. While others ignored her, James always knew when she was in the room. Some part of him was eager to hear what words of wisdom she might impart. Now was not the time for another lesson. His apprentice was getting the lesson. He was glad Theresa had taken up giving the new mage some basic wisdom. He had bigger fish to fry. He sighed and said absently to himself,"It seems the Prodigal's disheartenment is spreading." James glanced to Theresa at her question. This was an incredibly dangerous situation for everyone involved, but what was life if you didn't take risks. James was gambling on the fact that Ares would not destroy him because of the ancient compacts and laws that connected him to the gods. He was also gambling that Ares wouldn't risk angering Baldr and Höðr by killing someone that they were invested in. He took a long sip of his drink before replying to Ares,"Whether or not you're on vacation. As Hierophant to the gods, I must make myself available for your needs. Mind you, I have free will so I can tell you no if you request something of me that I don't like, but I will not be protected by my status if I do so. Great cosmic loopholes and all that nonsense." He paused for a brief moment, drawing on his connection to Ares and said,"There are currently one hundred and ten armed conflicts happening on the world. Twenty one of which are labeled as wars by conflict data analysts. We haven't nuked ourselves into oblivion yet, and honesty with the existence of people like Superman and the Flash nukes are obsolete. Continue to vacation if that is what you wish to do, but say the word and I'll work on getting rid of nukes if you want them gone. I can't guarantee that some asshole like Tony Stark or Reed Richards won't invent something worse though."

Part of Theresa's attention lies with Ares and James, though she doesn't show it. By allowing the two a conversation of their own and sidebaring with Anwir, it might make things easier in the long run. Everything she has seen of Ares has been contradictory from what she knows of him, which means she might be surprised. Best to mitigate such things. If James wants to get rid of nuclear arms, by all means. In her way, she fears the pendulum swinging back to rectify itself. Dr. Reed has certainly made far worse weapons, but he isn't in the Arms business. Others, however... 

Time will tell.

"That is very kind of you," Theresa says, voice flat. She is touched, inwardly. So few try to reassure her like this. "That is not how it works, however. James is rather special, working for the Gods I think helps," she says, giving him her thoughts on the matter. She isn't sure why everyone's eyes just pass over her... nor why sometimes they simply don't. "I am, perhaps, the most boring professor in Columbia. I believe they keep me around because of my research," Theresa says, something almost like humor sparkling in her eyes. 

"Have I asked something untoward?" Theresa asks, glancing at his cheeks. "Forgive me. I pry," she says, a simple explanation for something, quite frankly, rather complicated.

"I see..." Theresa says, mulling his answer over. "Do you want to finish your degree? It matters little in the world we inhabit, but it means more in the world we are actually in," she says, shrugging. "It has made my life easier to bend into what I am able to do, get degrees and doctorates in applicable fields, and work within the mundane world. Is that something that might help you, too?" Theresa asks, hoping to get him to simply think about it, about his future. "Feeling best does not always mean being your best."