Memoirs of the Young and the Old (Michael and Dante)

The onslaught had begun. Elena Vexus had made her move and has already restrained the Cabinet members and the President himself. At the moment she is waiting for her air lift to arrive to bring them back to the Genesis Vi Headquarters back in New York City. She has commissioned a handful of MetaHumans in order to help her in the assault. As time passes, the military forces will only become more forceful and though Elena is powerful, she cannot fight off an entire army. Vexus has placed all of these Metas in different key points in the D.C. area based on their skills and various abilities. They will have the responsibilities of fending off any Military advancements as well as any heroes that may be fighting against Vexus' cause.
Placed at the Reflecting Pool and partially the Lincoln Memorial as well was a recruit that Vexus handpicked. She was confident that he would be more than capable of handling this area on his own. Dante Alighieri. A name that spoke power. She was honored to have him fighting on her side, for the time being.

Once Vexus' ride arrives the services of those she had recruited will no longer be needed, and it would be in their best interest to flee the area as soon as they can. Elena tends to be unpredictable in victory, or defeat. Her chopper will be easy to spot as it will most likely be the only non military air vehicle heading away from all the conflict. Everyone here is fighting for the future. Not only for the future of this country, but the entire world as a whole.

The rather interesting occasion was something that drew the attention of the Ethereal King, or rather proved to be something that would kill a small amount of boredom. So Michael had chosen to take the form of one of the reporters, following the story that was Jessica Magic that day, dressed within a rather smart looking suit and for the most part not that flashy looking. His small crew would follow suit, all holding cameras and for the most part just acting the part, setting up and waiting for the speech that Miss Magic would give them. Wiping away a luscious black curl from his face, Michael lugged the heavy camera along with him, the equipment among the most powerful available. Ethereals dressed for the part followed behind him, all dressed as one would expect a film crew, with jeans and simple shirts; coordinated by Michael himself.

Which brought up the point of his fashion sense in general, the fact that he could not for himself could not make a decent outfit, but when everyone else was concerned, no expense was spared. ”Pick up the pace you guys.” Michael noted with a certain cheery tone, the female voice seeming to only magnify it. A small grumble followed after his statement but for the most part no one really disobeyed him, walking faster as they pushed through the throng of people gathered to watch the speech in motion. The blue eyes were widened in anticipation, as if wondering what this Jessica Magic woman would say and it whatever plan of hers would prove interesting.

Equipment was set up quickly and, all they had to do was wait, to wait for the speech to start and for everything to be ready so they could perhaps record some of it. If this had anything to do with the rebuilding of New York, that city that was so long ago destroyed, then he would also like to make sure this occasion was recorded. Granted they were not allowed to be as close as some of the more important people, Michael had enough of a view that everything was visible. This was not for the general public anyway, just for him to watch over and over. Something about Michael felt inclined to and Raziel said that he would enjoy it anyway, watching something on the plasma screen set up within his personal chambers. Miss Magic was going to create a nice show, and so he would keep it recorded to watch over and over.

When the raven haired female stepped out to the stage, his eyes widened slightly. Her presentation itself was rather interesting, garb and all seeming to show a certain sophistication. She was what many humans would call beautiful, even the  shape of her body seemingly molded to be physically appealing; yet Michael found himself uninterested. The president looked like an older male, wizened in age and overall what he expected of older humans. From this distance he could tell that he was likely wrinkled slightly, probably some grey hairs and laugh lines. If anything this leader of the country was known for his rather pleasant expression in his interviews, and that was what made him such a good leader; Charisma. Michael wished that he could have simply taken him out and maybe replaced him, seen how well he could play the part.

Yet that was not to happen, not now and maybe not ever. Ruling two realms and a country was not something that Michael would want to do, and if he knew anything about the duties of this president, he would be gaining a downgrade. This speech started off fine really, something about what she said sounding fine and the president even sounding rather charismatic. The metahumans were not to be blamed, and they would usher in a new age, a revolution it would seem that started with the reconstruction of New York City. Things then went downhill from there, the woman proclaiming her true intentions by kidnapping the people that were closest, US people of importance.

”Well, this is quite the development.” he mused as the attacks began, and Michael slowly wormed his way out from the crowd that was beginning to scatter, His destination was a rather interesting place known as The Reflective Pool, which lead to the Lincoln memorial. Purple mist rose form his female form and the true form appeared. A male of seventeen with short dark brown hair in a messy style, cigarette dangling lazily from his lips with a steady stream of smoke rising from it. He was dressed in a simple striped polo shirt and khaki colored cargo shorts, along with rather bland tennis shoes, all of which seemed unremarkable.

”So this was her plan? Siege the capitol city and then move on from there?” A stray person ran into him, causing the ethereal to growl sharply before reaching out and grabbing the person, slamming their head against the ground. One foot slammed against their throat and stayed their while they struggled to breathe. They would claws and scratch at him, wild eyes looking up upon the ethereal that simply released the hold upon them and let the poor bastard run away. ”I wonder….if any of the heroic population will be out to play.” Silver pools looked upon the reflective surface of the large pool, contemplating something for a second before looking up to the sky. A churlish smirk came upon his face, this was going to be fun.

With a single sound, Dante began to feel energy around his post. It was magical energy, one used to transport the user to a destination of their choice. Surveying his surroundings, Dante took notice to the out of place adolescent that began torturing an innocent bystander. Absolute power corrupts absolute, and Dante was seeing it first hand. The child had power, and he took it upon himself to show others that he had greater power than them. It was a sick display, and it somewhat made it easier for Dante to stomach the idea of ridding the world of such a disease. However, if possible, it would be easier to attain surrender; mortal trifles were hardly worth Dante's time. But as per his agreement, he would stall as long as possible.

"It seems that Frau Vexus would have me killing naughty children" Dante said as he entered into view from behind a column of the Lincoln Memorial. His grizzled appearance only enhanced by the sheathed broadsword he used as a cane, his movements slow but deliberate. Appearances can be deceiving, especially when one acts like they ring true.

Dante grumbled to himself as he traversed the stairs towards the one who would become his opponent; he did not enjoy the thought of having to face off against children, even those with powers. One glance was all it took for Dante to identify the great power that resided within the boy. It was an ancient power; most would not even be able to identify the power itself, let alone know its full potential. Dante had heard that Ethereals had come to Earth while he was away, though he did not expect one to appear to him so soon.

However, Dante was not afraid; with the power that the Ethereals held came arrogance, and it was clear that the boy was full of it, like every god he had come to face before. Even still, the Ethereals were nothing in comparison to the otherworldly creatures that Dante had faced in the past, and the ones he was trying to prevent the entire known universe from discovering. So Dante stood firm, completely calm and relaxed in the face of someone who held enough power to destroy towns and cities, for fear was already something lost to him in his longevity. With a single flare of his eyes, Dante showed that power did not intimidate him, and it would take more to move him.

"Child, would you not find favor in this elder and simply cease conflict? I do not enjoy the idea of slaughtering the young."

He would not keep the poor human there forever, even Michael would grow bored of the little game, and then they could run on. Perhaps telling within their scared voices of the crazed metahuman that had attacked them in the midst of the Washington attack, not that Michael really cared what the humans knew of him. It was however upon releasing the poor bastard that another interesting being drew from the shadows, an elderly looking human, skin wrinkled much like parchment and yet something about them spoke of danger. It was perhaps also the weapon that the male wielded that added a certain aura of danger about him, something that sent Michael on edge somewhat. ”Killing children?” He scoffed lightly, raising an eyebrow as the older male had proposed the most novel of jokes.

”Sounds like you’re suggesting you could actually kill me.” Hands dug deeply into his pocket, silver pools boring into the eyes of the male standing opposite of him. What was he exactly? The man spoke with an unshakable confidence, something about him was….strange. Yet he could not be intimidated, especially not by someone that looked so frail. ” And who might you be elder?” There was a subtle change within his eyes, one that seemed to exaggerate within its proportion. Seven sigils would form, three placed expertly along the iris and then one shining from within the pupil. Without even meaning to he had called upon the eyes and with them the power that came of Ultima.

However at the moment it seemed to still take the form of Dark Ethereal, a black aura that slowly radiated from him with the occasional burst of black electricity. It was the look within this man’s eyes that showed no fear, as if he could stand against the world itself and not fear what he stood again. It was intriguing, the concept that this male held no fear and perhaps part of him wanted to instill that fear within him, if at all possible. A grey flame radiated from his finger tips and within moments a red hilt would begin to form, followed by the energy that would burst from the hilt that would then solidify into something else. At the moment he did not intend to confront the male but that could change.

Dante watched as the young Ethereal embraced the dark energies within him. But regardless of his capabilities, it wasn't enough to deter Dante; he had faced many enemies in the past who had far greater power and proof to show for it; all the young Ethereal had done was show him that he was quick to bare his fangs to idle threats. The energies loomed around him like cackling specters, sending licks of energy in random directions. It was obvious that his pride had been hurt by comparing him to any other child, but to Dante that was what he was, nothing more than another child to his eternal seniority. Even now he challenges without even seeing what the opposition had to offer, it was obvious that he was used to being stronger than others. In actual fact, it was likely that the child had far greater power than Dante had. Regardless, a royal brat still needs to be disciplined, though royal he may be.

"I do not make idle threats, I have confidence that I could end your life. But I also have the hope that you would see reason in a ceasefire as opposed to a battle that could prematurely end your life." Dante said simply, his expression neutral; he wasn't one for beating around the bush. To him, the facts were as clear as day. Whether or not the Ethereal would take offense to that was none of his actual concern; though condescending as it may sound, the truth is often such, and Dante was a clear believer in telling the truth; at least half of them... "To answer your next question, I am Durante delgi Alighieri. Born 1265, but far older than what that birth date would suggest. Regardless, I am an old and tired man in this incarnation, and I would rather not see my last few years in bloodshed. So I propose tea instead."

Dante sat down on the top of the stairs of, pulling a small thermos of brown liquid which he poured into the lid cup. After taking a few sips of it himself, he made the facial expression that he was satisfied with whatever liquid was contained within. He then poured another serving of the liquid, and gestured it towards the young Ethereal. An unfamiliar smile showed across his face, and he raised it further towards the child.

"Come, join me in drink. Treat it as your own blood in a pact between to reasonable individuals."

Runic irises followed each move of the male before them, taking them in with a certain half interest that was all categorized within a mind far superior to a super computer. Nothing within his movements really suggested that he was a threat, but then again they also did not really project him as the opposite, as far as Michael knew he was an enigma. A thousand strands of information were running through his mind, yet nothing could inform him upon that which was standing before him. Something about the way he spoke however caught Michael slightly off guard, how he did not really see the ethereal as a threat within the least. He was powerful or at least though himself powerful, and this confidence Michael could respect.

He would not waste what could be an interesting experience simply because he wanted to flex his muscles; a king should know when to strike and when to talk. With a flick of his wrist the blade would dispel itself in a small display of grey fire, blowing away within a stray wind. Even the strange eyes would return to their usual silver color flecked with neon green specks. He looked upon Dante with a neutral expression, the idea of tea an interesting one indeed. He was not here to fight, no he had come here to watch Miss Magic perform and so he would; with tea. Taking a few steps forward, Michael looked upon the cup with the strange liquid contained slightly confused.

The male had never really partaken of tea before, so it would be an interesting experience indeed. Reaching forward, Michael grasped the cup and took a swig of the brown liquid, squinting lightly before finishing it. ”No need to shed blood so unnecessarily.” Michael muttered wiping away a few stray droplets upon his lips.