[color=gray][center][url=https://fontmeme.com/calligraphy-fonts/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220722/b2fdf5b114c1ccb45cebc8ebb3b94c58.png[/img][/url]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/qO9Dkj2.jpg[/img]
[sub]Location: The Olympic Club Bathroom
Interactions: [color=facade]Anteros[/color] and [color=ed1c24]Ares[/color]
Mentions: [color=ea7e5d]Athena[/color]
A [@smarty0114] and [@Legion020] collab[/sub][/center][/color]
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Zagreus and Macaria lay atop shattered glass, blood leaking from wounds that would not heal, and all that Anteros could think about was his sister. He looked up from the bodies, expecting to meet her gaze, and when their eyes did not lock his stomach sank. Where was she? He pushed through the crowd, gently at first, then rougher. With every moment that passed he felt his desperation grow. She was not in the crowd, but why? She would not have hid, that was not Pothos at all. 

He burst forth from the throng of people and began moving towards the other rooms of the first floor. The kitchen was filled with frightened and confused mortals, unprepared for the chaos that had erupted in the ballroom. The lounge was empty, barely touched. The bathroom felt like a last resort. 

Until his foot landed upon the golden apple he’d watched Hera hang around his sister’s neck. He knelt down and picked up the pendant, closing his fist around it and closing his eyes. On any other day, at any other party, he might’ve been able to calm the sea of emotions that began to churn inside him, but now? After two bodies had fallen from the ceiling? He feared the worst.

Anteros’ desperation was replaced by purpose, as his strides carried him back into the ballroom. Athena and Hera had tried their best to calm the gathered gods, to mixed results. The man he was looking for was not scared though. Ares did not get scared, Anteros knew that well. His father would solve this, he would have to. Whatever his thoughts might be about his children, Anteros knew how seriously he took his honor. This was more than a move against Pothos, it was a move against Ares and Aphrodite both. 

Like the Minotaur raging through the Labyrinth, Anteros intercepted Ares as he moved towards Athena, placing his slender hand firmly against his father’s chest, and letting the pendant hang between them. [color=facade]“This,”[/color] Anteros said, [color=facade]“is Pothos’. Grandmother gave it to her earlier. She is missing, and you need to find her.”[/color] Anteros had imagined their reunion to be filled with clever jabs on his part, but he did not have the time. His sister was missing, and he would not endanger her to prove something to his father. Even as his hands trembled with rage and the red hot anger inside threatened to spill out, he grit his teeth and pushed through. For Pothos.

Ares looked his son in the eyes. Probably for the first time in decades. His eyes darted towards the pendant that Anteros was holding up, then towards Hera, then back to Anteros himself. The situation became clear in an instant. He looked towards Hades. [i]I’m sorry uncle.[/i] He thought to himself. [i]I have my own child to save.[/i] It was a harsh thought, but a necessary one. In truth Ares could do nothing for Hades right now but he could save his own daughter. All his focus – which was spread out in the entire room to mark off who was there and thus couldn’t have slain the two Greek deities – narrowed down. All of it fell upon Anteros.

He took the pendant with one hand, then put the other on his son’s shaking hand. It was gently, but it was firmly. [color=ed1c24]“Calm down.”[/color] Ares said. His tone was flat and constant. It conveyed no rage. Poor Anteros, in the end he really was his father’s son. [color=ed1c24]“Show me where you found it.”[/color]

Anteros nodded, removing his now still hand and silently moving towards the bathroom. When they arrived, Ant propped open the door, and pointed at the spot just near the entrance where he’d found the pendant. [color=facade]“It was just here, on the floor. I don’t-[/color] His words fell off as he took in the scene with new eyes, ones not clouded with desperation. 

The bathroom had seen a fight, that much was clear. The mirror had been shattered, and a painting on one wall had been knocked askew. He could see drops of blood on the ivory tile, and he turned his gaze on his father, his eyes renewed with fear. [color=facade]“I didn’t even see her come in here. I don’t–I don’t know where she is.”[/color] He had never had to truly fear for Pothos. His stomach flipped over itself. He could not fathom his life without his sister.

Ares, meanwhile, took a deep breath. Shock and confusion were the enemy in a situation like this. He unbuttoned his vest as he looked over the scene. His eyes went from the broken mirror to the blood drops on the ground. Ares had been in his own fair share of bathroom fights. There were telltale signs showing him the flow of the battle. Pothos was attacked, probably from behind. For a second the god of war felt a sense of short-lived pride. Most of his children took after their mother so much. Yet Pothos fought.

He crouched down to look at the blood droplets. They were still liquid and fresh. Whatever happened here, it happened recently. He hoped that Athena was as pragmatic as she so often claimed to be. The blood would have to be analyzed.

The scene spoke of a fight but Ares wanted more. He ignored the lamentions of his son behind him. The boy was already losing himself to panic. He wouldn’t be of much more help now. It was an old, mortal trick he used now to observe the scene. When you’re expecting nothing, that which doesn’t belong easily jumps out. Like the glint of a metallic object a bit further away. He reached for it. It was a cufflink shaped like an anvil. There was really only one god who wore those. [color=ed1c24]“What have you been up to, brother?”[/color] He put the cufflink and Pothos’ necklace in his pocket.

Then he turned toward Antheros and looked him straight in the eyes. He took the boy by his arms, firmly yet not painfully. [color=ed1c24]“Listen to me boy. You will walk out of here and tell Athena to look at this. She needs to examine the blood. Tell her that I will talk to her this night. Do you understand?”[/color]

Anteros nodded, the shock not yet faded from his face. [color=facade]“What are you going to do?”[/color] These words at least, came out calmer than they might once have. He’d always been averse to his father’s bloodlust, the ease with which he embraced violence. Now though, he wished he had more of that animalistic nature inside him. If his father was a boar then he was a dove, and doves were not suited for war. Whoever had taken his sister needed to pay though. He wondered for a moment if a dove could survive the coming days. He thought not.

[color=ed1c24]“I’m going to pay my dear brother a visit.”[/color] Athena would probably quickly realize where he would be going to. At least, if Anteros would be able to keep himself together for long enough to relay the message. He wasn’t the man for this. Few of his children were. He would need more. After that he prayed someone would catch him.

[color=ed1c24]“Anteros.”[/color] He said, holding his boy firmly by the arms still. [color=ed1c24]“Look at me. I will find her, I will find Pothos.”[/color] Alive or dead. And if he found her dead, then the world would have another enraged Greek god to handle. [color=ed1c24]“Now go.”[/color] He released his son and motioned towards the door. Just to make sure the boy wouldn’t stay frozen in the bathroom.
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