Alex
Douglas is out for an early morning training session like usual
Eric
The first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the training field. Douglas stood at the edge, his sword in hand, and took a deep breath. It was the start of a new day, and he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Douglas was a young man, no different from any other in appearance. He had a strong build, with broad shoulders and a determined jawline. But unlike most young men, he was a demigod, the son of the god of war, Ares. And not only that, he was also Ares' champion, chosen to train and fight alongside his divine father.

As he made his way to the center of the field, Douglas couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and responsibility. Being a demigod was no easy feat, and he had to constantly train and hone his skills to be worthy of his title. He started with some basic stretches, his muscles still a bit stiff from the previous day's training. But he pushed through the discomfort, knowing that it was all part of his journey to become a great warrior.

Once warmed up, Douglas grabbed a wooden sword and began his usual routine. He moved gracefully, his body honed through years of training. He went through a series of strikes and blocks, the wooden sword making a satisfying thud as it met his sparring partner- one of the training dummies. Douglas had always been quick-thinking and good with weapons, a talent that had been honed through his godly bloodline and the years of training under the stern hand of his father, Ares. But he never took his skills for granted. He knew that they needed constant refinement, and that was exactly what he did every day.

After an hour of sparring, Douglas paused to catch his breath and take a sip of water. As he stood there, he couldn't help but admire the beauty of the training field. It was a vast swath of green grass, with a few tall trees and rolling hills. In the distance, he could see the crystal blue waters of the nearby lake, and he instantly felt a sense of calm fell over him.

But he couldn't bask in the tranquility for too long. There was still much to be done. Douglas set his water bottle down and picked up a bow and arrow. Archery was one of his weaker skills, even with his champion ability taking effect, and he had been working hard to improve his skills with the weapon. He took aim at a target across the field and released the arrow. It flew through the air, hitting the bullseye with precision. Douglas couldn't help but smile at his progress. He had come a long way since the first time he picked up a bow.

But his training was far from over. Next, he moved on to hand-to-hand combat, fighting against a number of invisible foes at once. He was quick and agile, using his skills to plan attacks and . He fought with a fierce determination, his eyes never leaving his opponents' movements. As the sun began to rise higher in the sky, Douglas could feel the sweat dripping despite the cool morning breeze and his muscles starting to ache. But he pushed through it all, knowing that this was just another step towards becoming a true warrior.

After a few more hours of intense training, Douglas finally stopped to take a break. He collapsed onto the grass, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath even as a soft laugh escaped him as the adrenaline and euphoria still washed over him as he lay there.

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Garrett
*The rserved Goddess of the Hearth would chance herself upon taking a route through the training fields, as she left her sacred Hearth. The morning was still early, exactly how she liked it, though her fatigue had certainly put a stint into her plan.*

*The Goddess was on her way to the market, specifically the one in Plutus' domain, named after the great goddess of luck. A fan of her own culinary work, Hestia would be setting out to there, to gather an apocalypse-prepper's worth of supplies, in the hope that this ritualistic action wouldn't need to be repeated for a fair bit. To top that, the sheer volume she made also contributed to the vast stock she was looking for, and she was prepared to pay enough to make Plutus turn his head.*

*The fair lady was dressed no differently to how she usually was. Clad in a simple tunic, that mirrored the colour of the gentle rolling clouds above, and a pale yellow cloak that matched the sun's hue, giving her the abstract appearance of embers in a marbled hearth. Her blonde hair, that appeared orange at its roots flowed without wind behind her, in a constant waving motion on her shoulders, giving the impression of a low-burning flame. Her pale skin made her look almost ghostly, as she strode through the waving grass, looking no different to a shade at first glance, as she passed through.*

*There were more direct ways to the market. But Hestia wasn't the only one who was early to rise, and she wasn't the greatest at idle chatter at the best of times, so she often found scenic routes to get to her destination. Besides, the gentle grass of these fields was tranquil, and enjoyable.*

*However, while she was accustomed to seeing some soldiers of her nephew's influence training, and gave them little more than a respectful wave, the sound of fervent training took her eye, as it fell upon a half-familiar face.*

*Her Grandnephew, Douglas, was training like a man possessed, as he went through intense drils & routines to keep himself acti

Ve. She fondly remembered their first proper meeting, in the 'common-rooms' the various olympians & related persons got chummy in. He remembered helping him to cook, honing his skills aside from combat, and gave a small smile. Stopping in her stride, she would watch him curiously, the wind making her tunic & hair flow gently, as she observed Douglas' routine.*

*She would giggle as he worked himself ragged, falling to the ground panting, as she observed from the horizon. Deciding her usual routine could wait, she would stride over, a basket slung under her arm. Digging through it, she would pull out a bottle of lemonade, holding it in her hand as she went to stand over Douglas. She would regard him with a friendly smile* "Hello, little godling" *She would chirp, holding out the bottle to him, offering him a refreshment*

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Eric
Douglas lay sprawled out in the grass, panting heavily. The morning's training session had left him exhausted, but he felt a sense of accomplishment wash over him. He looked up at Hestia with a slight smirk, remembering how nice she had always been when they ran into each other in the common room and how she had been helping him learn to cook- among other things less combat-focused. "Hestia!" He called out to her, his voice a little hoarse from exertion. He sat up slowly, taking notice of her tunic as it danced slightly in the cool morning breeze, reminding him a bit of soft flames dancing in the wind- fitting really he thought with a small smile.

The air was crisp and cool against his skin, still damp from sweat. The scent of dew-soaked grass filled his nostrils as he took deep breaths to regain his composure. The sound of birds chirping and insects buzzing filled the otherwise silent field around them, creating a peaceful symphony. "You're up early" He said somewhat surprised as she approached him, her gentle steps causing the grass to bend and sway underfoot. She always made it look so effortless, like she was gliding across the ground. As Hestia approached, Douglas grabbed the lemonade gratefully, taking a long swig before speaking again. "Thank you," He said between gulps. "This is just what I needed." He wiped his brow with the back of his arm and looked around at the rolling hills surrounding them.

It had been a while since they had spoken properly, and he was glad to see her again. Even if it did just bring up some of those conflicting thoughts and emotions inside again as he thought back to the latest conversation he'd had with Ares. He wanted nothing more than to have someone, other than his father, to talk about things with... It had been what had fueled such a fervent and desperate training session, trying to wear himself out to the point his mind would slow down-even a little. "So, what brings you out so early?" He asked, trying to push those thoughts aside as he looked up at his aunt. "Morning market run before the crowds?" He asked with a faint smile as he gave a small nod to the spot beside him, in case she wanted to sit.

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Garrett
*She would continue to stand over Douglas as he lay sprawled out on the ground. Her form would cast down some shade for the man, as she held out the refreshment for him, as the gentle breeze rolled over them. It was a pleasant scene, to enjoy the lush billowing grass.*

*The goddess wouldn't make a claim to be a fan of nature, in general. She appreciated the beauty they held, finely sculpted by her siblings, and the primordial forces, and was definitely fond of the tranquility they often held, especially with animals. But, her workaholic mindset made her abstain from such a joy more often than not, which was more than evident upon her pale, marble-like complexion. But still, she enjoyed the feelings of warmth the sun brought, in times like this.*

*She would relent her grip as he took the beverage, crouching down beside her great-nephew, with a small smile. She remembered their time cooking together, and how he seemed to love it so. His passion was clearly evident in all he did, as even his fighting gave 110%. Yet, he seemed more confident in his martial prowess, or perhaps less certain for other tasks, despite his dedication suggesting otherwise. She half-hoped that he would divulge more unto her, so that she could shoulder his burdens, or at least aid any conflicts he had.*

"Yes, you got it exactly right, actually" *She would giggle, setting down her basket, as if to show Douglas that she wasn't leaving in a hurry. She would take his offer, sitting among the blades of grass in the idyllic training fields, and looking over to Douglas.* "The markets are quieter when it's early. Same case for the mortals. My work is needed less, so I have time to go out and shop." *She would think for a moment, wishing to distract him from whatever made him train so fervently* "How comes your cooking? Had any more attempts since we last spoke?" *She would ask softly, smoothing some hair behind her ear, giving her great-nephew a kind smile.*
Eric
Douglas took another long sip of the cool, refreshing lemonade, savoring the sweet tang on his tongue. His mind was awhirl with thoughts and emotions, stirred up by the unexpected encounter with Hestia that morning. He hadn't anticipated her asking about the cooking lessons again, and a part of him wanted to dismiss it as unimportant. Part of him wanted to brush it off, pretend it hadn't mattered much to him. But it did- it had meant more than he had expected. 

The moment he stepped into Hestia's warm and welcoming presence, all the tension and stress of combat training with his father Ares melted away. The scent of freshly baked bread and warm hearth filled the air, bringing a sense of tranquility to his troubled mind. As he looked up at Hestia's serene face, her gentle eyes seemed to hold all the understanding in the world. Here, in her sanctuary, he could speak freely without fear of judgment or reprimand from his Father. This was a place where secrets were safe and burdens were lifted.

As he spoke, Douglas' gaze shifted to the ground, the corners of his mouth turning downwards in a dejected expression. "I... Haven't had the courage to try cooking anything major again since our last lesson," He confessed. "But I did make an attempt at a few simple dishes afterwards, just to get some more practice in. I even borrowed a cookbook from the library." A wistful smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he recalled the memory. "However, Father caught me with it and his disapproving expression was impossible to ignore." With a heavy sigh, Douglas sat up and turned to face his aunt fully, his eyes reflecting both frustration and longing.

"I knew Father wouldn't like it. He wants me to focus completely on combat training. Says cooking is a distraction from my duties, that it is not something I should be wasting my time with... That that is what I have servants and an eventual wife for." As he spoke, he sat on the edge of the training field, idly picking at blades of grass as he contemplated how to pursue his passion without angering his father. His tone was both determined and hesitant, torn between his desire to learn and his fear of disobeying his father's expectations. 

"I still want to learn," He stated firmly, "But I need to find a way to do it without my father finding out." A small spark lit up in his eyes, a hint of rebellion simmering beneath his composed exterior.

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William
*She fixed Douglas with a patient smile, as he enjoyed the lemonade she happened to bring, and she sat beside the demigod. Like how her own presence was one of tranquility, and calmness, the boy's own aura of annoyance, anger & strife filled the air like a noxious gas. One that may have been mistaken by others as authority, was noticeable to Hestia, as she knew its source.*

*She noticed the air of hostility begin to melt away in her presence, as the facade of a cruel man melted away, into the man he truly was. A force to be reckoned with, for sure, but still one that had care in his heart, instead of being a mindless machine of combat, no better than the weapons he wielded.*

*She would match his saddened face, with a softer smile, to show that she wasn't upset with the boy. She would shake her head dismissively* "Don't worry your head, dear. I am sure that what you did make was amazing, nonetheless, even if it was simpler." *She would smile happily at him, as Douglas mentioned the cookbook. She would noticeably roll her eyes as the boy mentioned his father's disapproval, giving a cheeky grin to her great-nephew.*

"Honestly, dearie. I must say, that while your father is wise in the ways of combat, he is an absolute cyclops when it comes to anything else. No ability to see depth." *She would giggle at her own remark, before continuing* "While servants can certainly help, and a wife would... Traditionally, do what he claims, I can't help but wonder what he does at war. I can imagine the serfs being stretched too thin to fight, feeding an army. Or does your father choose to eat the dirt in those times? That, I can't imagine"

*She would shake her head* "Look, Ares may disapprove of many things, but he is not the God of those things. He is the God of War, and in a conflict, I would trust his judgement. But, I can't imagine the man cooking his own meals going well" *She would give him a saddened look, as he continued to profess his desire to learn.*

*Placing a hand besi

De him, as she stood up, she would raise one eyebrow* "And what have I offered you, little godling? I know it is most of what I talk about, but my quarters are more than the hearth. I have a rather nice kitchen there as well. And while it is admittedly less fanciful and 'modern' compared to what you youngsters would prefer, it still serves its purpose. You are always welcome to stop by and practice. I think I have some cookbooks there as well, if you're worried about harbouring such 'contraband' from your blood." *She would turn to face him, fuelling the fires of such a rebellion in an oddly wholesome way*
James
"You've given me something few have before... Or until now" Douglas said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "A chance to truly be myself, without the weight of expectations and standards placed upon me." He looked at Iris with gratitude in his eyes, grateful for her understanding and acceptance.

For so long, Douglas had been defined by his father's legacy as a fierce warrior and son of Ares. But here, in this peaceful moment surrounded by nature, he felt free to explore his own interests and passions. His love for cooking and reading suddenly seemed like valid pursuits, no longer pushed aside in favor of training and battle.

As he gazed out at the field scattered with weapons from his training his mind was calmer than it had been before Hestia's arrival. However, Douglas couldn't help but still feel conflicted. On one hand, he understood his father's desire for him to become a skilled warrior and honor the legacy that the God of War carried with him. But on the other hand, he loved the thrill of being his own person and craved the simplicity of just being... Without the pressure to live up to such high expectations.

"It's just... I wish I was free to choose my own path. Develop my own interests and skills, not just the ones deemed acceptable." He turned back to Hestia, a spark of determination in his eyes. 

"But I understand your wisdom. As always, words of wisdom that are simple yet honest and true, as your reputation has always set" Douglas said with a smile. "But if you are sure... About the offer to continue working with you, to hone my... Other skills... I would love to take you up on that."

A relieved smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his tense posture relaxing even more. "I can still pursue my passions, even if it must be done in secret. The hearth will be the perfect place for me to practice without judgement or expectation. With your expert guidance, maybe I can actually learn a thing or two. Father may see cooking as a frivolous pastime, but to me, it's so much more than that. I... I look forward to it. Thank you, Hestia."

Douglas looked up at the flame goddess with a smile. And actual honest smile. One that was relaxed and warm. He knew things were going to hard. The war was still raging on and he knew that as thing dragged on, the pressure of being the son of Ares, the champion of the God of War, it would eventually come for him. He knew he needed to navigate his way through the chaos, but for now, in this moment, he was satisfied with simply letting things unfold as they were. He was content to just let things be and focus on the here and the now.

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