<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v252/HlySd/HotMenChart_Michael_Churchill_11-1-1-1.jpg)</div><strong>Name/Alias</strong>: John Aaron / Ares<br/><strong>Origin</strong>: Olympus<br/><strong>Location</strong>: John’s bedroom<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: No one<br/><hr/><br/>His eyes opened in the pitch darkness of his bed chamber, and his nostrils breathed in the soft and sweet perfume of…roses? John was face down within his bed; the beast pelts he used for cover were bunched at the end of it though he could feel a light sheet of some sort covering his back. He rolled onto his side to feel the sheet break into what felt like numerous velvet pieces.<br/><br/><em>What the…</em>John thought as he sat up in his bed and stared into the dark, fearing what the light would unveil. He snapped his fingers and the hearth roared to life, bathing his room in a brilliant gold. It was everywhere…rose petals. John’s brows hiked up his forehead in shock and he glanced down at his bed to see that rose petals adorned the mattress as well. Glinting to his left, he noticed was another scroll. He grasped it and urgently parted it to see a blank page—a voice mail. As Aphrodite’s voice purred from the scroll, her words were recorded on the paper in gold text.<br/><br/><em>Sleep well? Of course you did after last night. I had such a wonderful visit. John is excellent with his hands. He gave me a foot and back massage. It was heavenly, and he enjoyed every moment. We both did. Oh, Ares love, I redecorated your room. There was danger at every turn. You had your nasty weapons lying everywhere, and torture devices? How barbaric. I hope you love the changes though I’m sure you’re on the verge of having another one of your fits. Well, goodbye, the husband summons. And oh yes, don’t compare me to a mortal ever again.<br/><br/>Love,<br/><br/>Aphrodite ♥</em><br/><br/>John’s eyes were so wide he felt the air drying them out. He gazed passed the scroll at the carpet of rose petals and rose from his bed to desperately begin searching for any weapons that might have survived Aphrodite’s butchery. He swept piles of petals left and right to find first a pink stuffed bear. John lifted the fluffy creature and stared at it in horror. He knew well of Aphrodite’s powers, but he was wondering if this was his ax or perhaps one of his swords. Lowering the bear, he regarded the rest of the room, taking in the giant monkeys, bunnies, and bears scattered about. It sapped the energy right out of him.<br/><br/>John dropped to his knees at the realization that all his trophies, his entire collection was gone. A fit? Is that what she called it? He was seconds away from snapping.<br/><br/><em>I am going to kill you…</em><br/><br/><em>Tear her head from her shoulders…</em><br/><br/><em>Mar the beauty from her skull…</em><br/><br/>The threats entered his mind in waves and the anger that ran through his veins was hot. His rage numbed his entire being and all he needed to do was lash out, to become Ares and wage war with his bedroom, the tower, anywhere where he could vent, but what good would that do? His anger instantly extinguished at the question, a question that only John could have comprised. He couldn’t kill. The very thing that made him the God of War was now obsolete and not even Aphrodite feared him. Like a muzzled dog, he was no longer a danger to anyone.<br/><br/>John stared down at the bear in his hands for a whole minute before he tossed it aside and stared into the back of his mind, searching for an answer to his new question. What now? He was trapped in a place worse than his uncle’s realm. Hades wouldn’t have taken away his ability to murder. What was a war god that couldn’t take lives?<br/><br/><br/>John sat in the far corner of his empty bed chamber. Everything but the bed at the far end had been cast into the flames to burn. His room was now as empty as a cavern that the popping of the kindle was heard clearly across the room. John’s arms were resting upon his knees as his eyes stared tiredly across the room at his bath. He was lost in a defeated meditation, reflecting upon the memories that brought him here, and some that he felt should have never happened. He wasn’t a mortal, and he was no longer a God of War. He was nearly drowned by a mortal, and was now a pawn in the gods’ games—games he himself used to challenge and play. He wasn’t going to be a part of it. Though his stomach pleaded for sustenance, John was in no mood to leave his bed chamber. The empty and silent chamber was the closest thing to what he had once had than the accursed world that existed just beyond its walls.<br/><br/>School…it had nothing to do with him. He had perhaps slept through it or it might have been lunch. He didn’t know. The cheerleaders would gossip about the party the football team had thrown and how they had gotten drunk and performed filthy acts that would keep them popular until college. His posse would search for him but not find that Greek exchanged student, what was his name again? Oh yes, John. And where was he? Sitting up in his room, waiting for his life to go back to the way it was. Even as John, he couldn’t say he regretted the war he waged against his father and that had gotten him sentenced to Earth. He had loved it, and if he had known its outcome, he probably would have still waged it just for the sheer joy. He had slain so many of his father’s pets. No one could stop him, not even Athena and all her clever stratagems. He was unstoppable until Hercules got in the mix. John frowned at the thought of him: glory hog and favorite of the family. The<em>Incredible</em>Hercules…