<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: franklin gothic demi;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Ares: His Quarters</span></span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>Love and War</em></span></span></div><br/>In the confines of his room, John had become Ares to relieve the stress of being cramped inside a mortal shell. He had shed his clothes and stood beneath the hot spout of the shower, lathering body wash like a wax across the solid contours of his skin. The god’s body was a masterpiece. He was built for only one thing: war. He was a weapon, a dog, an animal that could not be tamed once unleashed. His calloused hands were rough and hard from the many weapons he had brandished.<br/><br/>He rinsed; the steaming layers of liquid washing away the blue foam, breaking into rivers that flowed along the paths between his pectorals and abdominals and between the shapely cheeks of his buttocks. The shower had only taken him seven minutes if not roughly ten, and he walked out into the firelight of his room, the moisture making him shimmer like gold. He moved over to his bath, descending the marble steps until the water rose to his waist. Ares then sat upon the steps and gazed at the wall before him, his earthen eyes distant in thought.<br/><br/>They strayed to his reflection in the water and the golden collar that locked about his throat. He stroked it gently with his fingers, tracing over the mystic runes that gave the device its power.<br/><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><em>Hercules had his arms locked about Ares as he used his strength to harness the enraged god. They were in Zeus’s court and all the gods but Hades were regarding the God of War. Their lips were curled with amusement and some wore disgust. Ares’s face was red with anger as he tried to jerk his arms free of his brother’s grip.<br/><br/>His wild eyes were on his father, Zeus, as he sat upon his throne, scowling at his most disliked son.<br/><br/>“Release me!” Ares roared.<br/><br/>“And why should I do that? You have waged war against this court, and you rebel against your father, your king!” Zeus returned. He then stood from his throne to point a sharp finger toward him. “No! I will not release you. I should have you thrown out permanently…” He exhaled a calming breath as his anger settled. “But because you’re my son, and your sister, Athena, has insisted so, I will banish you from this court. You will reside in the Realm of Humans until you learn respect!”<br/><br/>Ares grinned humorously and then roared with laughter, “Is that all? I was afraid you’d sentence me to live with my uncle in Hades, but with the humans? HA!”<br/><br/>Zeus’s eyes crackled with electricity as his voice boomed, “Do not tempt me, Foolish Son! Hephaestus!”<br/><br/>Hephaestus rose from his seat at the table of the gods and limped toward Ares, holding in his left hand a golden device. Ares stared at the item nervously.<br/><br/>“What is this?” he questioned. “Tell me!”<br/><br/>“That is a magic seal. You will no longer be able to satisfy your bloodlust. You will fight with the intention to kill but your attacks will never be fatal. Your enemies will continue to rise and haunt you until you beg your uncle to take them!” Zeus informed.<br/><br/>Ares’s eyes widened with dread. He wouldn’t be able to kill? No. It went against what he represented. He glanced to Athena as she stood by his father’s side, smiling pleasantly. She enjoyed every minute almost as much as when the Greeks triumphed over her brother’s forces in Troy.<br/><br/>“See father? I told you that that would be a much worse punishment than Hades. Ares, if only you could see your face. I will cherish it for eternity,” Athena scoffed.<br/><br/>“I will KILL YOU!” Ares screamed as he thrust his head back. The back of his head struck Hercules in the forehead and for a brief moment his strength had let up, but just before Ares could twist his way free, his arms tightened about him. Ares struggled like a wild animal as Hephaestus stopped a foot away from him.<br/><br/>“Hold him still!” Hephaestus yelled.<br/><br/>“I’m trying!” Hercules growled. He then tried to reason with the war god. “Stop! Ease your childish tantrum for the goddess of love is watching!”<br/><br/>Ares instantly stopped. He gazed across the court to Aphrodite who watched him with such cold eyes. She was indifferent to the whole situation. Did she not care? He had spent countless times trying to win her affection, but it was that moment where the god finally realized she did not ever love him. Ares ceased his struggle and lowered his eyes to hide them from her gaze. He felt embarrassed and to see Aphrodite show no care of his exile hurt him more than any wound he could ever receive in his battles.<br/><br/>Hephaestus snapped the collar about Ares’s neck and Zeus ordered, “Now get him out of here!”<br/><br/>Just before the guards could take Ares away, Hercules whispered, “Surely you must understand, brother. There is no love in war.”</em></span></span><br/><br/><br/>Ares glowered at the memory and rose from his bath. He had wasted enough time, and it was time for John to get ready.<br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: franklin gothic demi;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">John Aaron: Outside the Tower</span></span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>Dangerous</em></span></span></div><br/>John stood out front dressed in a black, button up shirt. The top button was left undone to created a V at his neck and not obscure the gold chain that actually proved to be quite tasteful. His dark-blue jeans were held up by a black belt with a silver buckle, and black shoes adorned his feet. Black was his color. It was plain; it was solid; and he hadn’t tried much else. He wasn’t the shopper and barely had an eye for fashion.<br/><br/>There was a spicy and fresh cologne wafting gently from his person and black shades hid his eyes. John Aaron was ready.