Michael
*Summoned by Ares to the Skyline District, Hermes arrives promptly not knowing who he would be meeting.*
Nancy
One step after the other. His talaria worked overtime as he stormed through the streets of Olympian kicking up a trail of dust as he went. Mortals likely seeing this speed demon as nothing but a freak gust of wind. Hermes was the confident type but even this was a bit too much trust placed in his half-brother for him. He knew Ares, he had saved him from the giants in the past wars and the two had worked together on the Sisyphus case; but he also knew that his half-brother lived for conflict. Ares couldn't help it, it was his nature as a god just like Hermes was impatient and cunning. Thankfully it was that cunning that was working over-time on his trip down these streets to 5361 Skyline District.

The god of messengers had no clue who he was meeting but could hazard a few guesses. Perhaps Ares had finally seen reason and was looking to turncloak, it would be a good way to get himself into the good graces of their father; but once again, Hermes knew Ares and that seemed unlikely. Perhaps Ares was simply looking to extend the conflict further; there had not been many major battles as of yet, getting the god of messengers to deliver some misinformation or simply a goading message to Zeus would likely cause at least something to occur. Or perhaps, it was the option that Hermes was both excited and fearful for. Perhaps the god of the sea had brokered this deal through an intermediary he knew Hermes would trust; it was a scary thought, he'd be running into danger if that was the case. But maybe he was overthinking it, surely family would outweigh this violence before too long; and Hermes would be the god to broker peace.

Hermes preferred that thought.

The idea that all could be won with just a few words. It made it all simple for him.
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Making sure that he was stopping his journey in an alleyway just a few blocks away from the meeting place; and especially out of mortal view, Hermes came to a screeching halt. Stabbing his talaria's heels into the ground sparks would come up from these disguised winged trainers as he came to a stop. Their wings furled up again hiding into the fabric of the black trainers he was wearing. A hand combed through his wavy hair as he checked his appearance in a puddle. Looking good he thought, grinning to himself with childish excitement.

Shifting his head from side to side he cracked his neck whilst adjusting his brown leather aviator jacket. Unzipping the jacket so that the inside of black sheepskin wool was easily visible he pulled his airpod case from an inside pocket taking the earphones from his ears intruding on the quiet silence of the alley with the faint sounds of 'Money Money Money' before the brilliant devices were carefully stored back into his jacket. Hermes made a mental note to thank Apollo again for that gift. To be fair he could go thank him now. He didn't have to go to this meeting. Of course it would be a blow on his word but... Hermes groaned, rolling his eyes as he checked the time on his phone. 7:58 am. It was time. He couldn't go back now.

Sighing to himself, Hermes began to walk onto the street blending in with the street of mortals as he made his way to the building that he would be meeting the enemy at. Keeping his confidence and positivity up, Hermes began to quietly hum a song to himself, "Money, money, money... Must be funny..." Continuing through the beautiful lyrics of ABBA as he walked up to the door.
Florence
"Mr Ares, Sir. Hermes is outside."
"I'm aware." Ares responded from behind a glass desk, leg crossed over his knee, cigar burning in a bronze ashtray in front of him. His leather chair had been spun to stare out the window at those who crumbled underfoot. At the festering masses that clamored for approval and recognition. A disease called mortality. There, keen eyes watched the messenger walk from his alleyway. He stood, picking up the cigar and placing it in his lips, looking to his PA with a small smile. "Prepare everything for a visitor. No need to hide anything."
"Yes, sir."

The PA removed himself from the office, and Ares followed, parting ways immediately to take the lift to the ground floor. Stepping inside, he watched himself in the reflection of the mirrored doors. Taking the cigar from his mouth, he placed it in a small steel cylinder and closed it, shoving it in a pocket. A black suit with a red tie and pocket square. A briefcase in his left hand. He never went anywhere without it, after all.

The doors opened, and he stepped out into the lobby, passing the staff members and the customers alike. Each long stride taking him closer to the entrance, where he now spotted Hermes' approach. Was he... *Singing*? Of course he was. As he got close to the automatic doors, they slid open. Like everything in the building, it did what it was told, and without question. He liked these doors. 

"In a rich mans world, brother." He finished the lyric, standing in the entryway and looking him up and down. Was that Orpheus' jacket? It looked like it. He hadn't realised the two had grown close again. Ares chose not to comment on it, instead gesturing for Hermes to follow him as he headed back inside. Through the hallway he'd left and to the lift. Not a word exchanged until they were inside, and the doors were shut. This wasn't a conversation for others ears.

"Welcome to the Capital. The headquarters of Industry Standard." IS for short, Industry Standard was an online-only bank. It facilitated purely digital transactions, which is why it was the perfect vessel for money laundering. It was almost too easy to hide the illegal transactions amongst the legal ones. All taxed. Not a single crumb of evidence left for any nosy mortals. 

"So, brother. It should be of no news to you that I'll be preparing for the way. As will IS. We plan to support the war effort like good patriots of Olympus." The doors opened and revealed another featureless hall, this time however, the light above the door told them they were 5 stories below ground. Walking through it, he stopped by a large window that overlooked a factory floor. 

On that floor, the mass amounts of weapons were being packed into incognito crates and boxes by several dozen employees. "And, our services will be at your disposal. Now, from Zeus' perspective it is wise not to tell Poseidon I plan on selling to your side. Poseidon finds out, the arms stop. But I know you, and your soft heart, so it's also worth noting that if you tell someone you shouldn't, Zeus finds out you prevented his side getting armed. Not only that, but... Well, we need not go there."
Nancy
The building was pretty unsuspecting for what Hermes was expecting; but in all fairness, that's what Ares was all about nowadays. Gone were the days when conflict began with whispers spoken into the ears of ambitious men; now all you needed was enough resources pumped into one side. Divisions were all over the mortal world now, it wasn't too difficult to start a war; the real trick was keeping it going, a trick that Ares appeared to have perfected in recent years. Continuing with the lyrics as he approached those front doors Hermes sang to himself, "Must be funny, in a rich-" Just as the doors he walked towards slip open revealing his brother finishing the lyric.

Hermes grinned a cheerful smile at the pair finishing the lyrics together. Ares looked good, war definitely paid well considering how good that suit looked on the man. The style choices were enough for the young god to contemplate his own choices... Perhaps he should try out wearing suits more? Owning his own fair of auctions and banks definitely warranted it. But after seeing Orpheus dressed in leather; obviously not approaching him, that was too much of a... Whole thing. Orpheus likely wouldn't appreciate the mimicry but Hermes definitely enjoyed his look in leather.

Opening his mouth to begin their conversation with the usual pleasantries that Hermes expected; he was sorely mistaken as the divine messenger was simply gestured inside by a now silent Ares. His mouth hung open for a moment as the god stalled not knowing precisely how to approach his relationship with the god of war. But eventually, he closed it and jogged forwards to follow his brother with hands in jacket pockets. Even if Ares was unwilling for idle conversation; Hermes made the effort, "How've you been doing?" The man swiftly asked following with a, "Business looks good!" As he looked around at customer and staff alike shooting smiles everywhere he glanced.
.

It was likely Ares would not answer but Hermes still spoke giving his idle remarks and questions to fill the gap in silence. It made him uncomfortable that lack of speaking and he was determined to fill it.

Finally they traversed through the lobby and entered into the welcoming arms of the lift. Hermes coughed, clearing his throat as he shifted on his feet in the lift. The nervousness was getting to him, he wasn't used to not knowing why he was called to somewhere; and the whole situation with the god war was definitely a hive for that type of business. "Nice business, heard a bit about it" Hermes commented on the mention of IS before giving his unsolicited comments, "You know I've got plenty of banks in Hermopolis you could have used..." He mentioned quietly as he put his hands up as if to say that he didn't want to mention it; but he most definitely wanted to. He didn't understand the need for Ares to do his own thing, especially when he was so willing to help. The entire thought of a criminal organisation wanting to use their own system didn't matter to Hermes who just wanted to help out.

And then came the Ares bombshell.

Of course he would want to perpetuate this war. Patriots, thats what they would call themselves as all of them were tearing each other apart. Hermes groaned as his positivity immediately declined. A hand went to his brow as he thought what he was hearing over. Why couldn't Ares see further that his own needs? Hermes loved his siblings but the fact that Ares was trying to extort him to continue this mess... It was just short sighted.

"Right..." Hermes muttered as he glanced over the weapons being packaged and prepared for war; shaking his head as he attempted to counter with, "Can't you focus this amount of effort into a different war? You surely understand the devastation this will cause? It will harm you as well brother".
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Hermes, attempting to remain calm and collected, pacing his way down the featureless hall; his eyes locked onto the production line as he thought on how to approach this mess he had gotten himself into. Ares really had trapped him. He had read him like a book, locked him in a trap of duty and loyalty. Shaking his head as he walked his way back down towards Ares again he continued to speak, "And I'm sure you will be providing support still to your master? Poseidon wouldn't be too pleased to hear you were trading arms to our side, you're right. What I can't understand is if that is all you really care about? You want only this? Only war?". Hermes was dumbfounded, he couldn't deal with this on top of all his extra-curricular efforts of aiding Zeus and attempting to halt the conflict.

"Surely we can work out something. You're a smart man Ares. Send these weapons to some stupid mortal war elsewhere, leave our business to us" Hermes pleaded waving his right hand to the weapons and employees past the glass to emphasise his point, "Don't force me to do something stupid for your own hunger".
Florence
Ares chuckled darkly, looking to his brother and regarding his softhearted response with a raised brow and a tilt of the head. A smile grew, a devilish smirk. How godlike, to request the death of mortals en masse rather than face the risk of warfare themselves. Even attempting to draw out some deep sense of self preservation from the god of war. Yet, ironic. Because though he spoke as a god, and held the narcissistic sensibilities of a god, he grovelled like a serf. He pleaded like a man. That sort of power, that soul-wrenching power that brought gods to his knees, that's what he coveted. That's what he craved more than any war. It had already begun, and he hadn't fired a single shot.

"Harm me? Hermes, the war progresses with or without us. The fires rage, I do not need to fuel them. I simply decide to be the god who fuels the fire, rather than the god consumed by it." 

A tranquil gaze as he regarded the death of millions and the deaths of gods alike. What were more corpses? What were more dead gods? Zeus, Poseidon, even the disgustingly neutral Hades had a stake in the battle. All gods, regardless of the neutrality or peace they preach would be affected by the outcome. Battle was inevitable, a byproduct of ego and power that had been brewing for eons. The only way war stopped waging was when a single victor stood atop the pile of bodies built as a temple to their might. Ares did not intend to be among the pile. 

His gaze snapped in an instant, all peace evaporated in burning fury as Hermes questioned him. He took it as a threat, though an implied one, and his hand shot out. 

He grasped Hermes' throat and smashed him through the glass before them, dangling him above the drop to the factory floor, above the mangling machines and the vicious jaws of mechanical cutters and gears.

"You will remember your place, courier, or you will become the message." He growled through gritted teeth. Pondering the frailty of a throat for a minute, considering how much force it would take to snap his spinal column and wrench his head free from his blubbering neck.

Finally, he pulled him back with a back-handed throw down the hallway.

"The war of gods will go on, their battles will continue, and most of them will die. Don't be a sheep, messenger. Peace was never a word spoke amongst gods."
Nancy
Hermes, the normally light-hearted Olympian, regarded the situation as serious as it truly was. Ares was a threat to his goals, hell, he was a threat to his own life with how he worshipped the perpetuation of this war. His deathly serious glare to his brother hopefully conveyed this as Hermes watched the god of war laugh at his attempt to make Ares see reason. What was the deaths of a couple million mortals compared to the death of gods and swathes of the world in their wake? Hermes saw his predicament with a fortunately rare coldness; it was simple maths, the pair were playing with lives with this simple conversation.

Ares saw the world with a disappointing smallness to Hermes' openness. He saw the deaths of millions whilst Ares only saw the war as an object to be coveted. Hermes looked down in sadness, he had hoped for better from this meeting, at least some form of civil discussion.

And as Hermes spoke he seemed to realise his mistake just as he spoke it; even unintentionally, the god of messengers had threatened the god of war. Now came the reckoning. Hermes had done comments making fun of his brothers before, but this was a veiled threat and Ares had not taken it well. Hermes felt the glass bounce off his divine skin before he understood what was happening. His eyes went wide as he gasped for breath, now held above a churning mass of crushing gears and slashing blades; the machines of war.

Hermes' hands swiftly moved to his brother's arms; he was near confident that Ares would not attempt to kill him. This was just a show of force. Something they had done even in their youths. Ares wouldn't kill him. Or would he? The doubt clouded his mind, they were enemies now; his master was against Zeus, he was actively attempting to fuel conflict.
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A divine death would only add coal to flame.

A spark of fear came from that fire to Hermes' positive demeanour and as he hung there he held on tightly for his godly life. He would not die, his life was too dear to him. The next moment would find the god saved, albeit bruised as he skidded down the hallway. Coughing the god of traders slowly got to his feet once more, glaring at his brother in a rare sign of hate from the god that quickly faded. Straightening up his jacket from the jostling, Hermes took a careful amount of time to choose his next words. "My place is by Zeus, our father" Hermes spat out as he began to close the distance between the pair.

"You would hope for the deaths of your own kin?" Hermes questioned with venom as the god rubbed his sore neck; looking into Ares' eyes for any sign that this was not true. "A sheep would obey orders without question, I agreed to a meeting with an enemy out of hope. I am worse than a sheep, I'm a fool of a god for believing you would want anything but war" The young god spoke with an audible sigh of disappointment and despair; it had been a long shot to hope for a peaceful Ares.

"But my place is by Zeus" Hermes continued with a wave of a hand hoping to dissuade any further attempts at violent persuasion, "And he would be disappointed to hear he had lost out on more instruments of destruction". 
.

"I will take your weapons, in return I only ask for you remember our war against the giants" Hermes further spoke; a pastime he enjoyed as he attempted to make Ares understand that what he was doing was a massive risk. "Once I stole you from captivity by giants, this war is that brazen jar held in the hands of the Aloadae. Let me save you from doom again; you will be welcomed back to Olympus with open arms by our father" Hermes attempted to reason with his brother attempting desperately to call back to times during the Gigantomachy.

But then he sighed as he knew these attempts were futile. "But if you do not wish to return I will gladly take your weapons; and I will use them to kill the rebels of Poseidon's lot just as Hippolytus fell" Hermes spoke with a final, small threat; quickly putting up his hands in surrender as he added to the end, "But, I do not wish for us to fight. If we have to fight at least let it be somewhere with an audience."

A smirk fell across the cunning god's face as he gave a brief shrug finishing up with, "Just so that someone can sing about my death; I'm sure Orpheus will respect an old friend with that."