<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Franklin Gothic Demi;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">John Aaron: In front of the School.</span></span></div><br/>John stood outside the main building, clinching a packet in his hands as his brown eyes roved briefly over his schedule. The idea of attending a school for mortals was ridiculous, and if Athena hadn’t hid behind their father, he would have backhanded the bitch to Hades…he sucked his teeth. His upper lip curled in disgust as though he held something uncouth. Folding the stack of papers, he closed his eyes as he stuffed them into his back, jean pocket. The white, button-up shirt was perhaps all he wore of the uniform he was assigned, and he left it open so as not to obscure the white skull that glared from the front of his black, t-shirt.<br/><br/>As far as John Aaron was concerned, or secretly, Ares, the God of War, Stormvalley High had bit off more than it could chew when it chose to accept his application. But what did the administration know? To mortal eyes, he was simply a handsome, young athlete. He was six-foot-one with muscles that weren’t as imposing as when he stood in his god-form.<br/><br/>John’s eyes lowered to the gold necklace about his neck. It was a thin chain that was just as deceiving to the eye as his appearance—in fact, it was underestimating. His index finger rose to curl about the item as he gave it two tugs that seemed harmless but were far from. The necklace had been sturdy—a true product of Hephaestus.<br/><br/><em>Hey!</em><br/><br/>John’s attention darted toward the voice that had hailed him. The look he offered was shrewd. His brows were knitted together and lowered over his oaken eyes. There was a group of young men wearing varsity jackets. Some of them were also wearing bandages, slings, and shiners—the products of a battle. The observation caused the corner of his mouth to curl with interest.<br/><br/>The blond leader of the gaggle raised his palms in surrender as he felt the sharpness of John’s gaze. His right hand was wrapped in bandages, his eye black and blue, and the corner of his mouth split with blood. “Wait, we’re not here to start any trouble or anything,” said the quarterback (his group couldn’t handle another fight—not even with an old hag and a hand bag). “You just look like you play a sport or something.”<br/><br/>John’s eyes narrowed and his lips parted as he was prepared to mention his past battles, but then quickly remembered that he wasn’t that man at the moment. His lips came together and he swallowed those words that would have had the mortals suspecting he was mental. “I suppose you can call it that…” he replied.<br/><br/>The quarterback lowered his hands and slid them into the pockets of his jacket. “You ever play football?”<br/><br/>John was back to frowning as he was suddenly filled with mixed feelings. “Can’t say I have.”<br/><br/>“You should come try out sometime. You look like you would make a good addition to the team.”<br/><br/>“Is that where you got your battle scars?”<br/><br/>The football players exchanged a few glances before the quarterback lied, “Yes. It’s a rough sport. It’s not for everyone, especially midgets.”<br/><br/>John hadn’t quite understood the ending comment, but football was sounding more and more interesting. “Then sure, I’ll join. Blood and sweat are my kinds of things.”<br/><br/>The quarterback smiled and approached John, offering his hand, “I’m Kevin Mason, senior, and quarterback of the Stormvalley Saints. You’ll get to know the others soon enough.”<br/><br/>John grasped Kevin’s hand in a firm hold before he gave it a single shake. “John Aaron, senior, I just transferred. I look forward to seeing this warriors’ game.”<br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Franklin Gothic Demi;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">The Football Field.</span></span></div><br/>The football players had gathered on the field to see the new rookie. There were multiple whispers being passed from ear to ear, most of which John’s acute ears had heard, and they were sometimes flattering and insulting. John simply crossed his arms over his chest as he awaited an explanation.<br/><br/>Kevin bloomed from behind the group of players that stood at a respectable distance from John. He was wearing an amused smile as though he could already see the results of the rite of passage that he would put John through. Behind him, was a large man. A black shirt with the band Mastodon was stretched over his round belly that quivered like a white tongue over his belt buckle. A varsity jacket managed to fit snuggly over his arms, which made it apparent that he was a part of Kevin’s team. The hefty student and Kevin stopped a foot from John and Kevin wasted no time to begin his explanation.<br/><br/>“This is our offensive guard, Frank ‘Big Boy’ Jacobs. We also tend to call him the brick wall because he’s not exactly a passable force.” Kevin then held his hand out to John as he introduced, “Frank; John Aaron, he’s the new guy. Go easy on him, all right?”<br/><br/>Frank’s thick lips pulled into a smile that spoke his thoughts clearly: yeah right. No hands were offered between the men as they stared each other down and sized each other up. Kevin grinned as he felt the tension beginning to build between the two men. He hadn’t even explained what was to happen, and somehow, they already had the idea.<br/><br/>“John, your job is to act as the offensive guard and Frank the defense. You must not let him pass you. If this were a real game, and he managed to get by you, then you put me, the quarterback, in danger. Understand?”<br/><br/>John smirked at Frank as he replied to Kevin, “Yeah, sure.”<em>Piece of cake.</em><br/><br/>“Great. When I say ‘go,’ you’ll both begin.”<br/><br/>Kevin briskly returned to the other players as they began snorting and laughing quietly.<br/><br/><em>I feel sorry for the new guy.</em><br/><br/><em>He’s going to get rocked.</em><br/><br/>Their assumptions made John smile.<br/><br/>Frank trudged five meters backwards and then spread his legs as he lowered into position. John took no stance as he simply observed the Big Boy and studied his bearing.<br/><br/>Kevin, grinning in excitement, glanced to both men before he finally shouted, “Go!”<br/><br/>With an exhilarated cry, Frank lunged into a sprint toward John. His muscles and girth swayed and rippled as his shoes pounded the earth, hauling all that weight into an unstoppable, battering ram. His cry had excited John. His bronze eyes shrank and the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rose. He was coming. It sent him flashing back to previous battles. The enemy was coming!<br/><br/>Frank spread his arms and slammed into John only to feel the inertia crushing him as John remained planted, having hardly budged. He was still zoned out, watching wars play out in his head, when he heard Frank’s grunt and his brows rose with realization. He glanced down to the struggling teen, and then to the other players who were staring with their mouths agape in disbelief.<br/><br/><em>I have to let up a little. I have to make this believable,</em>John thought as he allowed Frank to begin sliding him back across the grass as though he were but a tackling dummy. The grass and dirt curled beneath his soles, leaving behind two tracks as Frank’s assault dwindled. His muscles were burning and he was soon sliding down John’s front to collapse to his knees in a panting fit.<br/><br/>John stared down at Frank with indifference, and then raised his head to shoot a smile to Kevin. “It’s my turn now right?”<br/><br/>Kevin managed to slowly nod while he was still lost in awe from what he saw. No one could stop Frank, and here some transfer with a build similar to his own had stopped him as though he were but a playful child.<br/><br/>Frank rose to his feet and kept his eyes cast down as he refused to give John the pleasure of seeing his defeat. As he walked back across the field, his eyes were wide in disbelief. What the hell happened? Was he losing his edge? Once he found his position, he turned to face John and tensed a little. He didn’t know what to expect now that the tables had turned.<br/><br/>John sank to a crouch. His knees rested on the grass and the balls of his feet were set and building with potential energy. He was positioned like a sprinter and he was caught up once again in his dreams. The football field was melting around him as he stared across the battlefield at the enemy lines.<br/><br/>Kevin glanced at the two, and then cued once again, “Go!”<br/><br/>John lunged forward in the same manner Frank had. His arms swung and his white, shirt caught the breeze of his sprint. There was so much adrenaline flushing through his system. It made him grin. He flaunted his teeth almost wickedly as he became aware of the pain he would deal to the behemoth.<br/><br/>Frank’s hands shook in what he realized to be fear as the rookie charged toward him. He was so fast, and his muscles clinched tightly as they prepared for impact. The remaining seconds, he could remember like a nightmare. They had been so surreal. John’s lips rolling back to reveal a smile out for blood and his eyes seemed to disappear in a fiery blaze. He hadn’t been a man but a monster, some creature that wanted to bring him harm, and a beast that adored the idea of inflicting pain on others. His war cry flooded his mind, sending chills like ice water throughout his body.<br/><br/>John slammed into Frank. His arms locked about the teen as they both flew two meters off the ground. He felt Frank’s breath leave his lungs in a strong burst that passed over his head. Frank’s feet flew upwards as he turned onto his back and landed so heavily that his form bounced twice and slid a foot.<br/><br/>John stood off of Frank in a fit of triumphant laughter. One hand was resting on his solid stomach as he turned away from the dazed blob, rocking in his mirth. “Twas’ like tackling a mattress!” John exclaimed.<br/><br/>Kevin and the other players rushed passed John to crowd around Frank.<br/><br/>“Frank!” Kevin called.<br/><br/>Frank’s vision churned as Kevin’s cries were muffled and contorted. He didn’t even feel the slaps given to his fat cheeks. Then, suddenly to their repulsion a guttural flatulence burped from beneath the teen that sounded wet with shit, and an affronting odor wafted into the players faces, causing them to scatter with their arms drawn over their noses.<br/><br/>“Dude, sick!” a player moaned.<br/><br/>Kevin turned to face John, watching him sink to his knees in his fit. Tears dripped from his cheeks as his head hung in his weakness.<br/><br/>Kevin approached him and lowered his arm. “I’m definitely going to get you on this team. That was amazing. You must have a drink with us. Hell, we’ll party.”<br/><br/>John’s laughter slowed as he recovered to his feet and wiped the tears from his eyes with his thumbs. “I can’t. I haven’t even moved into my quarters yet.”<br/><br/>Kevin rested a friendly hand upon his shoulder. “Come on~, you can do that later. There will be booze, babes, and other crazy events.”<br/><br/>John frowned in thought as he considered the offering. He hadn’t had one in awhile. “I accept.”<br/><br/>“Awesome!” Kevin yelled. He then turned to his buddies. “He’s coming.”<br/><br/>The other players cheered as they strode over to John, leaving the unconscious Frank where he lay. Kevin slung his arm across John’s shoulders as he led him to the parking lot. “I know a guy who can get us all the drinks we need. We’ll be partying at his apartment.”<br/><br/>“Sounds good,” John replied with a smile.<br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Franklin Gothic Demi;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Off to Party.</span></span></div>