Mary
At the heart of Ares Heights, overlooking the city, stands the Warrior's Plaza - a grand arena where gods in disguise, demigods, and the bravest of humans engage in martial competitions and combat demonstrations. The arena, surrounded by statues of Ares in various battle poses, serves as both a training ground and venue for epic duels that showcase combat prowess. Spectators gather to witness displays of martial skill and pay homage to the god of war.
Carmen
"If I'm Gay, Why Aren't You?" 

It shouldn't have been surprising that Arsenio would find something or someone to do. 
Dating apps and good genes did the work for him while he corralled a little lamb into the side of some building, shrouded in shadow, but not enough to be completely concealed. A little blonde thing, small and fit just right for the size difference. He'd apologize to Andros later. Surely that Eros guy would be content with knowing that even Pan's demigod wasn't above making out with a cute little twink. Hailing from France, he was just indulging the culture, right? 
Flicking his gaze up, his eyes caught someone staring. At first, that excited him, but then the longer he had to lock eyes, the longer Arsenio had to realize that he was looking at someone he'd been warned about. 
Maybe he would... Go away?

The makeout session didn't take very long, and Arsenio had gotten increasingly bored with the lack of action. The denial was cute to a point, but not enough to keep his attention. Plus, he was originally on his way to do something more productive with his time. 

As soon as he parted from the blonde, the demigod rounded the corner to head down the path and out of Ares' heights, when he stopped. Right there was that same guy, who was staring at him before.

**"Can I help you? Cause if you're looking for directions, you got the wrong guy."** 
His gaze slid over Douglas' form and back up to his face, in a full body scan; sizing him up. 
The sun was out and beat down hot against his neck, though Arsenio wasn't entirely convinced that it was just the sun and he wasn't already irritated. 

The other man was not small, but neither was Arsenio. He barely cared for a polite introduction, much less for the fact that word had gotten around pretty fast that the Ares boys were nothing but trouble. 
But they didn't know who the fuck they just stepped up to. His stance said "If you got a problem, it's best you don't." It was the only warning Douglas was going to get.
Betsy
It had been a fairly typical morning for Douglas- hours on the nearby training field working through some of his favorite weapons. He had worked up quite a sweat and was ready for a well-deserved break. The weapons and gear had been left behind on the field. One of his father's peons would be around to gather everything up and take anything that needed repair or clearing to the forge.

It was on his way back from the field that Douglas caught sight of the one person he had been looking for but also hoping he wouldn't find. He had heard rumors that a couple of Pan's sons had come to town. His curiosity had been piqued he had wondered where they were and where they would show their faces. Douglas hadn't expected to find one of them in his father's area, snogging some twink like a whore. But here he was, standing in front of him once more, acting like he was some big shot or something, obviously not aware of the price of crossing a son of Ares.

"Not lost. Quite the contrary, I believe you are the one lost as it seems you have wandered into my turf accidentally." Douglas looked Arsenio over up and down again, lip curling into a smug sneer. "You're one of Pan's kids aren't ya? Funny. I would have thought the kids of the fucking satyr would have had hooves or horns too."

The sneer grew at the look on Arsenio's face and he knew he had hit a nerve. Douglas wasn't going to back down easily that was for sure. He stood his ground, squaring his shoulders and clenching his fists at his sides, daring Arsenio to try anything funny. He could see the challenge in those blazing eyes as they met his own, but he refused to give anything away as he also sized up the man before him. 

"Best run back to your woods. This area is reserved for warriors, not whatever you call yourself," Douglas scoffed. This was his turf; he wouldn't be intimidated by some half-blood who thought he could just waltz in and act like this place was his personal playground.

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Carmen
Arsenio's gaze finally landed on the other male's face, noting how round his face was. He didn't look like a fighter. A bit thin, yet soft in the same way men who didn't work with their hands were soft. His eyes held little conviction, yet burned in an intensity that made his irritation look fake. 
Yet it still pissed the twin off.

He didn't know what this guy's problem really was, but just being on someone's turf was nearly gang-like. Yet it wasn't so serious that Arsenio took any stock in it. He must have been a God's kid also, by the association; like being Pan's kid was his name. 
It wasn't.

**"So, what? You're in a street gang? You?"** The rate his eyes flicked from head to toe said that Arsenio didn't believe a word of that. Who the hell used the word "Turf" Anymore? 
Either way, whoever this was had one chance to step off before he was put on his ass. He wasn't some mortal who didn't know how to fight. 

There wasn't a whole lot of offense taken for being one of Pan's kids, even as it was thrown in his face like they were about to hit record for an episode of "Yo Mama".

People walked by them, soldiers, civilians, all passed by, and the pressure of being in public only heated that coil. This guy had one chance to get it right and let him by before it became a problem.
It was true that Arsenio had a short fuse, but he'd been working on it.

**"I don't know you. I don't know your name, what you stand for, or any of that. But here's some advice: don't step up on strangers when you don't know what they can do. So you can get that Ralph Polo wearing, "My daddy is a lawyer" Shit out of my face."** 
That was his only warning.
Betsy
A torrent of hot rage surged through Douglas as Arsenio's insults towards him, and by association his father as well, continued to fly from his lips. His hands clenched into tight fists as he struggled to hold back the urge to strike out at this half-blood who dared to disrespect him. "You will regret the day you chose to challenge Ares' Champion," He snarled, his eyes narrowing with determination. He could feel the adrenaline and the power that came with it coursing through his body, muscles rippling and straining under the shirt he wore as he prepared to launch himself at his opponent. With a guttural growl, he charged forward, every fiber of his being focused on taking down Arsenio in a display of raw strength and fury.

The sounds of boots against asphalt mixed with gravel and sand blended with the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. The smell of sweat and hot tempers were almost palpable in the air as Douglas closed the distance between them. To his credit, Arsenio stood his ground, determined to defend himself in this challenge. Douglas could feel the tension mounting within him, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he faced off against his younger brother. He was tired of these petty helmetless fights - he wanted something real, something that would truly test his strength and resolve. And it seemed that today, he would finally get what he desired.

If Arsenio was paying attention he would see Douglas's fists clenched tightly at his sides, flexing slightly as it they were attempting to grasp a weapon that was not there. There was no more talking; it was purely action now. Tension filled the air as Douglas lunged forward and tried to tackle Arsenio to the ground. They both were demigods, Douglas knew this, blessed by the gods. But Douglas was no ordinary demigod - he was Ares' champion, blessed with unparalleled speed, strength, and stamina. As they circled each other, every movement calculated and precise, it was clear that this was no longer a battle of words but one of pure action. With a fierce determination in his eyes, Douglas lunged forward and attempted to tackle Arsenio to the ground, his focus solely on claiming victory in this divine clash of wills and there was only going to be one left standing when the dust settled. 

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Carmen
Douglas wasn't the only one fighting to fill some primal need. One of out necessity that would ensure that neither him nor his brother got hurt. It wasn't an ego-fueled venture, and he got rarely very little enjoyment from it, but his passion for it kept him coming back. It kept him working out and test that next level of where he thought he should be. Against regular mortals, he was god tier. 
Against another demi god? 
Well, he atleast needed some wit about him, otherwise this was just a normal street fight.

The tackle caused Arsenio to lean, pressing his arm up into Douglas' neck when he tried to get his arms around him. 
The other hand was still holding his helmet from his motorcycle. He'd left to go meet that boy originally, and attempted to go back to the forge. He just so happened to hold onto the protection.

This wasn't going to be a fair fight. 
But that wasn't really Arsenio's problem. It was Douglas'. 

A shove put some space between them and the helmet came flying down from above, blotting out the sun moments like a black boulder before it splintered against the corner of Douglas' head and face. 
Arsenio dropped the helmet, and he clattered away from them. A fist - now free- wrapped around Douglas' shirt and he wailed on his face with his right.
Arsenio was a powerhouse compared to most, so how Douglas sized up to his power and what damage he could cause alone would be interesting. 
Either way, it was bound to teach him a lesson.
Betsy
Everything seemed to slow down as his shoulder collided with Arsenio and the two began to struggle against each other.He didn't want to hurt Arsenio, not really, not at least at the start. But he couldn't let him win either. This was a test of strength and skill, a test of who was better, who was the better man of them. Douglas need to win this fight, he had to prove himself worthy of the title of Son and Champion of Ares. The air was filled with the grunts and growls of two powerful beings exchanging blows, feet scrambling to get upright and bodies being thrown against each other. 

The dust around them rose up in a cloud, swirling like a whirlwind before settling back down again as they exchanged shoves and punches, grabbing at each other like wild animals. All bets were off, there was no holding back anymore. If this guy wanted to fight the Champion of Ares then he was going to get just that. Douglas got his feet under him sure enough and attempted to connect with an uppercut that would hopefully send Arsenio flying backwards. But Arsenio was too quick - he ducked under it just in time and shoved the other demigod back.

An instant later it seemed Douglas was launching himself back at his target. Only instead of Arsenio's fist it was the heavy helmet that came swinging at his face. It connected with a sickening crack as the white hot pain exploded behind his eyes. Douglas didn't know how long it lasted but he had blacked out for at least a few seconds because the next thing he was aware of was Arsenio leaning over him wailing away. It took just a few seconds, though enough for a few blows to land, and then Douglas' hand shot out with the super-human speed of a demigod and grabbed his fist before it landed again. 

"You fucking bastard! You're going to regret that!" He snared, his eyes burning with anger. His hand gripping tightly around Arsenio's Douglas kicked up aiming at the other demigod's stomach, trying to knock him back and knock the wind out of him.
Carmen
Arsenio had been in plenty of fights to know when someone wants room to make a move, so when he noticed that Douglas was bringing his leg up, he simply moved. 
No doubt he'd extend his leg and roll an ankle or hurt himself. 

That was the difference between a hotheaded fighter and someone who had experience. 
Granted, Arsenio could have a temper. His fuse was silent, however, and it wasn't until someone's jaw was sideways that it was obvious that the twin was looking to break teeth. 

Like a malicious slinky, Arsenio came back to him. His left fist collided just right underneath Douglas' jaw, laying him out after hitting such a sensitive spot. No doubt the hit had his teeth clattering. 

The demigod looked arpund his helmet, and the realized it was shattered in the face plate. Goddamnit. 
He really could only be mad at himself for that, as he was the one who used it as a weapon. 

**"The next time you want to fucking judge somebody for being who they are, you can come find me at the fucking forge. I'll kick your ass for them."** 
He tossed his broken motorcycle helmet to the stone below, and it rolled pathetically with how mishapen it was. 

Sadly, Arsenio had to dip. He knew better than anyone that cops would come, and he wasn't about to be around to have pretty silver bands put on him again. 

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Wesley
Douglas did his best to watch Arsenio's movements, to try and calculate where he was going and avoid his fist. He managed for a bit but fighting hand-to-hand was a lot different than fighting with his weapons, any of his weapons... Douglas would never have admitted it out loud, especially to the likes of Arsenio, but he was surprised. Surprised at how good the other demigod was and how quickly the tides seemed to turn... Against him.

It all came to a head when Arsenio decided to cheat. And yes, Douglas would say it was cheating without hesitation. He braced himself for impact as Arsenio charged towards him with the full force of his weight behind the helmet. The instant the helmet connected with the side of his head, Douglas went down in a daze. His vision blurred and swirled as white hot pain exploded in his head, drowning out all other senses. 

Everything then faded into blackness as he lost consciousness, the clamor around him fading into a dull hum. When he finally came to, the dust still lingered in the air around him and he could hear Arsenio's voice talking to him... But it was all muffled and distant, drowned out by the persistent ringing in his ears

The first thing he was really aware of once the lights stopped dancing behind his eyes and the dizziness lessened enough for him to lift his head was that he was laying in the street alone. Arsenio was gone, the busted helmet lying a little ways away and his throbbing face the only evidence of their fight. 

Staggering to his feet, Douglas heard shouting and knew it was time to get out of dodge. He headed off down the street, hand to his face, a string of curses falling from his lips as he went, directed at Arsenio... And at himself.