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[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/00/9e/04/009e04ebfaeb8971d3c2fe7da2711378.gif[/img]
[b][center][color=black]𝐹𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎 𝒮𝓆𝓊𝒶𝒷𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈 [/color]
[color=#6e7f80] 𝐹𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎 𝒮𝓆𝓊𝒶𝒷𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈 [/color][/center][/b][/center][/h1][/sup]
[right][sub][b]location:[/b] The Olympic Club
[b]interactions:[/b] [color=#ED1C24]Ares[/color] and the Cult
[b]mentions:[/b] [color=#00CC99]Tlaz[/color], [color=#40004D]Deimos[/color], [color=#FACADE]Anteros[/color], [color=#9E1B31]Phobos[/color], [color=a187be]Isabel[/color], [s][color=#A17A74]Macaria[/color], [color=#8FBC8F]Zagreus[/color],[/s] [color=#C08290]Pothos[/color], [color=#295751]Hati[/color], [color=#008080]Thor[/color], [color=#5A7B7B]Sekhmet[/color]
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The sun was rising.

The Olympus Club was empty. Police tap sealed it. Ares knew that the techs had already left the place. Athena would’ve used her clout to get every bit of forensic evidence as quickly as possible. That was more than a murder after all. It was family.

Ares crossed the police tape without a second thought. The low heel of his foot clocked on the tiled floor as he made his way slowly through the building. There had to be a thing that he missed. A splatter of blood, a sign, a lingering clue. Deicide was committed here. That could not have been done without a trail.

Just like in the morning he pushed through the two doors leading to the main hall. He remembered where everyone was sitting. Hati, Thor, Sekhmet. They were innocent of the deed for sure. Yet there was growing proof of a conspiracy. Were they really all innocent?

It wasn’t logic that made him walk towards the gardens though. It was the lingering memory of a smell. His feet carried him outside to the exact place where he spoke with Tlaz for the first time in far too long. That conversation had been far too short.  A part of him, a very familiar part, did not want to be in the gardens right then. He wanted to be with Tlaz. Even if he knew he had so many wrongs to right first. An older Ares would’ve selfishly chased her. He could not be that man again. Duty had to come first. But after tonight he would return to her and tell her everything. That much she deserved at least.

With Tlaz still on his mind, he made his way back inside.

This time, he wasn’t alone. Just through the door, in what had been an empty chair only minutes ago, a man was seated, waiting for the god of war. His legs were crossed, his suit was pressed, and one of his lapels was missing. Calmly, with a voice warm as the flames he stoked, he said, [color=#cd9575]“Brother. It’s been sometime.”[/color] Finally, Hephaestus had revealed himself. [color=#cd9575]“I heard you were looking for me. Now, I am found.”[/color]

Something primal rose up from Ares. A heat he was all too familiar with. He felt that rage pushing to yell and shout, to break something and threaten Hephaestus until the Smithgod gave up his daughter.

Instead, he took a calming breath.

This would start as a war of wits and words. That always fell under Athena’s purview. Fell. Perhaps mortality could free them from the cages they lived in as gods. Ares had played with that idea some two decades now. The god of war kept his distance though. It was a trap, obviously.

[color=ed1c24]“You have spun yourself a dangerous and extraordinarily messy web, brother.”[/color] Ares’ hand went to his pocket. He pressed a tiny button swimming freely there, and then pulled out a carton of cigarettes. [color=ed1c24]“So what happens now? Where are your specters hidden?”[/color] [i]What are you hoping to achieve?[/i] Ares’ eyes were trained on the forge-god, searching for anything. Any tell that might give away a glimpse of reason behind the madness he plunged the Heavens into. 

Hephaestus could only chuckle wearily before pushing himself to his feet, clasping heat worn hands together, [color=#cd9575]“All in due time brother. They have been so eager to meet with you. I thought it best we have our chat first,”[/color] there was a way about him as he walked forwards that seemed agile, almost serpentine. A presence about him that reeked of a higher divinity. That wayward smile of his only stretching further across his face, [color=#cd9575]“Family issues must be discussed after all.”[/color]

Ares returned a forced smile. [color=ed1c24]“Family? You want to talk about family?”[/color] There was an air of arrogance about Hephaestus. It stank. Everything stank right then. [color=ed1c24]“Tell me, what role did you play in the tragedy of Macaria and Zagreus?”[/color] As he spoke, Ares’ hand lowered until it touched the handle of his pistol. It wouldn’t kill Hepheastus. It would at most slow him down. The lead wasn’t meant for him though. The Forge-God could never stand against Ares on his own.

[color=#cd9575]“Don’t get all sanctimonious on me now, Ares,”[/color] Hephaestus said, slowly circling his brother. [color=#cd9575]“You are, after all, the same brother who stole my wife away. Tell me, what has my family ever done for me?”[/color] The smith cocked his head. Despite his harsh words, the mask of calm he wore did not slip.  [color=#cd9575]“This plan was set in motion long ago. Knowing you, brother, you will kick and scream and rage against the infernal machine, like the petulant child mother raised you to be. You have not changed. You storm in here like you know something, but you are just a toddler, throwing a tantrum because he has lost a game.”[/color] Hephaestus looked at his brother and chuckled. It was clear that he felt no fear, standing across from the god of war. [color=#cd9575]“What a wonder, it is, that she chose you.”[/color]

The war god’s expression darkened. It wasn’t the accusations or the insults that did this. In fact, that told Ares that his brother hadn’t been looking too closely at him. Ares had changed. Perhaps not enough to be worthy of Tlaz just yet, but he knew he had changed in the last three decades. What darkened him was something else. [color=ed1c24]“Visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children?”[/color] He said, quoting the bible. [color=ed1c24]“Is that why you took Pothos?”[/color] As he said the words he felt that ravenous beast that was his rage claw and trash at its cage.

[color=#cd9575]“Oh no, dear brother, that’s not what is happening here at all. Your iniquity will be paid back unto you and you alone.”[/color] The brothers’ eyes met and Hephaestus’ crooked grin only grew. [color=#cd9575]“You want to kill me right now, don’t you? You think you’ve changed, but deep down, the monster you were will always linger. It will always want back out. You are dangerous, a rabid dog that harms everything that comes near.”[/color] The dark eyes of the smith seemed to glow, lit with the fires of hate. His voice had grown sharper, crueler. Hephaestus had waited centuries to say these words.

[color=ed1c24]“And you seem almost desperate to keep it that way.”[/color] Something snapped within Ares. The first chain broke. [color=ed1c24]“Yet you’re wrong already. I don’t want to be here!”[/color] He wanted to be holding the woman he loved. [color=ed1c24]“And I don’t want to kill you, my own brother!”[/color] He wanted to sit at a table, feasting with the children he was loving more every day now. Right now though, he just wanted Hephaestus to confess to his sins. Ares was no judge. There were other divines more suited for that.

[color=ed1c24]“But you need me as you remember me. So you can stay what you think you are: the victim. The helpless sod. So whatever you do next is justified.”[/color] Ares pulled the gun from his pocket but kept it down, pointing at the ground. His finger hovered over the trigger guard. [color=ed1c24]“So make your move.”[/color] The gun was a distraction. He had his other hand in his pocket still, holding his phone.

[color=#cd9575]“Wrong again. Though what can be expected from a brute such as yourself.”[/color] Hephaestus eyed the gun, and turned his back to Ares in spite of it, calling out into the shadows of the Olympic Club, [color=#cd9575]“Come get your toy, before he makes an even bigger mess of my face.”[/color]

Hephaestus’ call was answered with a low grunt, the rustle of movement, and the sound of footsteps. Two pairs belonging to two figures, moving closer to the pair until they were standing behind Hephaestus. The first, presumably the one behind the grunt, was a hulking figure, bigger than both brothers, and wrapped in muscle. His sneer was cruel, his eyes crueler, and his hair was streaked with grey. He looked cleaner than the last time he’d met Ares, but the strength he walked with was unmistakable. This was the titan who had held the sky; this was the great general, Atlas.

On Hephaestus’ other side, a slender woman slithered into place. She carried herself with the knowledge that she was quite beautiful, and with the poise of one who knows danger. Dark hair fell from her head in silken tendrils, and she eyed Ares with a predator’s intent. [color=#87a96b]“You talk too much, Hephaestus,”[/color] the woman said.

[color=#bcd4e6]“I was growing bored, listening to you children bicker,”[/color] Atlas said, eyeing Ares’ gun with vague, unenthused, interest. This was busywork for him. 

Hephaestus scowled. [color=#cd9575]“Take him, Atlas. I’m sure he will give you some entertainment.”[/color]

[center][h3][i]𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠! 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠! [/i][/h3][/center]

Two bullets left Ares’ gun. They were aimed at Atlas’ legs. Ares’ heart started sprinting. He squeezed the trigger again. Two more times. His blood started to boil. Bullets would at most slow a god down. More bullets flew out. Ares stopped aiming after the fifth. Fifteen cases fell to the ground. Then Ares’ tossed his empty pistol and pulled the knife on his belt.

Atlas flinched from the impact but otherwise returned to a standing position as if only accosted by a fly. An annoying, stinging fly. Rolling his shoulders back he cocked his head to the side and with a wide manic grin he charged towards the god of war.

The ensuing fight erupted. Atlas was unstoppable. Ares was relentless. Both took more blows than they dodged. The god had learned to be slippery in fights. He snuck around the titan again and again. When he took a hit, it mattered little. His blood burned. It wouldn’t allow him to stop. The furniture in the club shattered during the fight. Splinters of wood and broken pieces of plastic were thrown around the floor. Neither looked like they were about to give up.

Atlas kept up the pressure. Glass shattered and bloody wounds were drawn. Ares landed his own hits but the titan refused to yield any ground.

When the titan had thrown the god against the wall so hard it cracked a little, Ares considered running. He could make it out of the club probably. Though it was risky. Atlas was getting closer again. The god of war weighed his options.

Old him would’ve ran. He had done so before. Despite being the patron god of soldiers, he had never been one for self-sacrifice. When it came down to it he was a craven. His eyes met Atlas. The titan wouldn’t stop. That’s all he could read from him. If he ran now, the titan wouldn’t stop chasing him. Tlaz, Deimos, Anteros, none of them would be safe. He had to buy them and the rest of his family time.

So he rose up again. His ribs hurt. They were broken for sure and pushing into his lung. Forcing him to breathe ragged breaths through the pain. Most of his face was swollen as burning blood ran over his numbed skin. His left arm couldn’t move anymore. The bone was probably broken in a few places. It was a miracle he could stand even. Yet he still raised one fist.

Rolling her eyes the woman muttered under her breath for Atlas to, [color=#87a96b]“Hurry up and finish the job,”[/color] it really was taking too long for her liking. But this was Atlas. He liked to play with his prey before dominating them. An eternity spent alone would do that to someone with divinity.

Atlas shrugged and stepped forward. He swung, Ares blocked. He swung with his other hand. Ares took the hit straight on his jaw. His mortal body was sundered. It couldn’t hold together, even if his spirit wasn’t broken yet. Time flowed slowly as he dropped. Darkness encroached from the edges of his sight.

And as he fell he felt regret. He left Tlaz alone again. Isabel wouldn’t be kind to her. Especially not now. He had failed her too. Then there was Deimos and Phobos. He wouldn’t see his daughter’s smile or his son embrace his love. And what would Anteros do other than despair?

Those were his last thoughts before the darkness took him.

The three other beings in the club stood over the body of the God of War. [color=#87a96b]”What’s there to do with him next?”[/color] she asked, eyes flicking up towards the God of the forge. If he didn’t know any better he would have believed her eyes to glow with a golden sheen with pupils like slits, watching him. Always watching.

Before Hephaestus could respond however, Atlas kicked at Ares’ arm just to be on the safe side before bending down to hoist him over his shoulder, [color=#cd9575]“He is needed elsewhere. Come, we mustn’t keep him waiting.”[/color]

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