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The God of the Underworld rarely ventured out of his domain. Preferring to keep to himself, Hades could count on one finger how often he visited Olympus, and only then when his brother insisted he had to attend a meeting that all the twelve pantheons would be in attendance for. No matter how much Hades tried to argue otherwise, his elder brother always had to put his foot down, so the dark god always attended with much reluctance.
This visit however, seemed different. Hades had intentionally picked a time when he knew he would have little no chance of running into Aphrodite or Apollo, or even the pesky Hermes, as he practically danced his way into the temple of Ares, and smirked as he saw the God of War.
He never did found the architecture of Ares's domain very pleasing. A monument to the garishness that was war, it held many dented shields and helms, with what Hades thought of as far too man guards and women lingering around. All in all, it wasn't too far away from Dionysus and his garish displays of indulgement and women - but he'll make an exception. Afterall, he had very pleasing news to tell Ares.
Grinning as he settled on his haunches, Hades waited till his nephew noticed his arrival, before speaking in what could almost be thought of as a joyful tone for the God of Lost Souls. "I heard there was a war, nephew. You must be glad!" he paused, making a show of being surprised, before continuing. "Oh, I forgot. You weren't going to be there, you poor injured soul." he finally finished with a deep-baritone of a laugh, as he finally ventured closer to Ares with a baiting grin.
While his own mortal body technically had no reason to be anywhere near the war, Hades had crafted a fake letter of complaint from a customer in Egypt, and hastened his way back across the seas with the ship owned by his mortal form. There, all he had to do was pretend he had inadvertently happened upon the war with no suspicion at all. Quite unlike Ares's own mortal form, which had the misfortune of being still far too injured to travel such distances. "You can enjoy your time with my plaything I guess." he smirked finally, amused at the fact that the God of War wasn't going to be at a war he had instigated.
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The God of the Underworld rarely ventured out of his domain. Preferring to keep to himself, Hades could count on one finger how often he visited Olympus, and only then when his brother insisted he had to attend a meeting that all the twelve pantheons would be in attendance for. No matter how much Hades tried to argue otherwise, his elder brother always had to put his foot down, so the dark god always attended with much reluctance.
This visit however, seemed different. Hades had intentionally picked a time when he knew he would have little no chance of running into Aphrodite or Apollo, or even the pesky Hermes, as he practically danced his way into the temple of Ares, and smirked as he saw the God of War.
He never did found the architecture of Ares's domain very pleasing. A monument to the garishness that was war, it held many dented shields and helms, with what Hades thought of as far too man guards and women lingering around. All in all, it wasn't too far away from Dionysus and his garish displays of indulgement and women - but he'll make an exception. Afterall, he had very pleasing news to tell Ares.
Grinning as he settled on his haunches, Hades waited till his nephew noticed his arrival, before speaking in what could almost be thought of as a joyful tone for the God of Lost Souls. "I heard there was a war, nephew. You must be glad!" he paused, making a show of being surprised, before continuing. "Oh, I forgot. You weren't going to be there, you poor injured soul." he finally finished with a deep-baritone of a laugh, as he finally ventured closer to Ares with a baiting grin.
While his own mortal body technically had no reason to be anywhere near the war, Hades had crafted a fake letter of complaint from a customer in Egypt, and hastened his way back across the seas with the ship owned by his mortal form. There, all he had to do was pretend he had inadvertently happened upon the war with no suspicion at all. Quite unlike Ares's own mortal form, which had the misfortune of being still far too injured to travel such distances. "You can enjoy your time with my plaything I guess." he smirked finally, amused at the fact that the God of War wasn't going to be at a war he had instigated.
The God of the Underworld rarely ventured out of his domain. Preferring to keep to himself, Hades could count on one finger how often he visited Olympus, and only then when his brother insisted he had to attend a meeting that all the twelve pantheons would be in attendance for. No matter how much Hades tried to argue otherwise, his elder brother always had to put his foot down, so the dark god always attended with much reluctance.
This visit however, seemed different. Hades had intentionally picked a time when he knew he would have little no chance of running into Aphrodite or Apollo, or even the pesky Hermes, as he practically danced his way into the temple of Ares, and smirked as he saw the God of War.
He never did found the architecture of Ares's domain very pleasing. A monument to the garishness that was war, it held many dented shields and helms, with what Hades thought of as far too man guards and women lingering around. All in all, it wasn't too far away from Dionysus and his garish displays of indulgement and women - but he'll make an exception. Afterall, he had very pleasing news to tell Ares.
Grinning as he settled on his haunches, Hades waited till his nephew noticed his arrival, before speaking in what could almost be thought of as a joyful tone for the God of Lost Souls. "I heard there was a war, nephew. You must be glad!" he paused, making a show of being surprised, before continuing. "Oh, I forgot. You weren't going to be there, you poor injured soul." he finally finished with a deep-baritone of a laugh, as he finally ventured closer to Ares with a baiting grin.
While his own mortal body technically had no reason to be anywhere near the war, Hades had crafted a fake letter of complaint from a customer in Egypt, and hastened his way back across the seas with the ship owned by his mortal form. There, all he had to do was pretend he had inadvertently happened upon the war with no suspicion at all. Quite unlike Ares's own mortal form, which had the misfortune of being still far too injured to travel such distances. "You can enjoy your time with my plaything I guess." he smirked finally, amused at the fact that the God of War wasn't going to be at a war he had instigated.
With Terror lounging on one side of him and Panic curled up at his back, Ares sat on the floor, a huge, round shield in his lap, polishing it. He didn’t look up at the random nymphs or other beings in his temple. None of them were worth his attention unless he was bored with his own company, which, while fixating on the vast array of weaponry in his Tomea, was unlikely to happen any time soon. Could he have snapped his fingers and made this bronze shield gleam like the sun? Yes. But where was the satisfaction in that? He liked to work with his own to hands, most of the time. At least, when it came to his own interests; weapons, woman, battle lust. Washing the dogs. Whatever he chose to fill his eternal time with.
The last person he expected to see when he finally did look up, was Hades bouncing through the door. Even smiling, Hades still brought with him an overpowering feeling of gloom, but Ares didn’t so much mind that aspect. He did not get up and did not set aside the shield, but he did raise his eyebrows in bemusement, waiting to see what it was that the God of the Underworld wanted. And to come up to Olympus, no less, to tell him. This had to be important. And if it wasn’t? The polish was still on the rag and the rest of the shield still needed done.
“Hades.” Ares greeted dryly.
”I heard there was a war, nephew. You must be glad!"
At this, Ares’s blue eyes lit up and he grinned, gesturing to the shield. “Happy enough to start polishing my weapons.” And then he twisted a little bit to gesture at the display of helm, bracers, greves, chest plate, sword, spear, and battle ax, already done. His eyes returned to Hades. He didn’t need to ask why war would excite the god of the underworld. War meant souls. Souls meant Hades was in zero danger of having nothing to do. A fate worse than death; boredom.
"Oh, I forgot. You weren't going to be there, you poor injured soul."
Ares gave a wry twist of his mouth.
“Not in the pirate’s body,” he agreed. “No. But I’ll be watching from here and I might overtake a man or two, and I will most definitely be there in spirit. How can I leave those poor mortals to fight alone?” He was trying to ignore Hades’s most pressing point; that no, he would not be there to enjoy the prebattle campfires, the commaradere that happened just before and after a battle, that moment in the very middle when you’re spinning from side to side, not caring who or what your sword sinks into. That, he would miss.
"You can enjoy your time with my plaything I guess."
Ares snorted in derision. “From what she tells me, she’ll be my plaything before she’s ever been yours.” And here it was his turn to smirk at Hades. “You’re too slow.”
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With Terror lounging on one side of him and Panic curled up at his back, Ares sat on the floor, a huge, round shield in his lap, polishing it. He didn’t look up at the random nymphs or other beings in his temple. None of them were worth his attention unless he was bored with his own company, which, while fixating on the vast array of weaponry in his Tomea, was unlikely to happen any time soon. Could he have snapped his fingers and made this bronze shield gleam like the sun? Yes. But where was the satisfaction in that? He liked to work with his own to hands, most of the time. At least, when it came to his own interests; weapons, woman, battle lust. Washing the dogs. Whatever he chose to fill his eternal time with.
The last person he expected to see when he finally did look up, was Hades bouncing through the door. Even smiling, Hades still brought with him an overpowering feeling of gloom, but Ares didn’t so much mind that aspect. He did not get up and did not set aside the shield, but he did raise his eyebrows in bemusement, waiting to see what it was that the God of the Underworld wanted. And to come up to Olympus, no less, to tell him. This had to be important. And if it wasn’t? The polish was still on the rag and the rest of the shield still needed done.
“Hades.” Ares greeted dryly.
”I heard there was a war, nephew. You must be glad!"
At this, Ares’s blue eyes lit up and he grinned, gesturing to the shield. “Happy enough to start polishing my weapons.” And then he twisted a little bit to gesture at the display of helm, bracers, greves, chest plate, sword, spear, and battle ax, already done. His eyes returned to Hades. He didn’t need to ask why war would excite the god of the underworld. War meant souls. Souls meant Hades was in zero danger of having nothing to do. A fate worse than death; boredom.
"Oh, I forgot. You weren't going to be there, you poor injured soul."
Ares gave a wry twist of his mouth.
“Not in the pirate’s body,” he agreed. “No. But I’ll be watching from here and I might overtake a man or two, and I will most definitely be there in spirit. How can I leave those poor mortals to fight alone?” He was trying to ignore Hades’s most pressing point; that no, he would not be there to enjoy the prebattle campfires, the commaradere that happened just before and after a battle, that moment in the very middle when you’re spinning from side to side, not caring who or what your sword sinks into. That, he would miss.
"You can enjoy your time with my plaything I guess."
Ares snorted in derision. “From what she tells me, she’ll be my plaything before she’s ever been yours.” And here it was his turn to smirk at Hades. “You’re too slow.”
With Terror lounging on one side of him and Panic curled up at his back, Ares sat on the floor, a huge, round shield in his lap, polishing it. He didn’t look up at the random nymphs or other beings in his temple. None of them were worth his attention unless he was bored with his own company, which, while fixating on the vast array of weaponry in his Tomea, was unlikely to happen any time soon. Could he have snapped his fingers and made this bronze shield gleam like the sun? Yes. But where was the satisfaction in that? He liked to work with his own to hands, most of the time. At least, when it came to his own interests; weapons, woman, battle lust. Washing the dogs. Whatever he chose to fill his eternal time with.
The last person he expected to see when he finally did look up, was Hades bouncing through the door. Even smiling, Hades still brought with him an overpowering feeling of gloom, but Ares didn’t so much mind that aspect. He did not get up and did not set aside the shield, but he did raise his eyebrows in bemusement, waiting to see what it was that the God of the Underworld wanted. And to come up to Olympus, no less, to tell him. This had to be important. And if it wasn’t? The polish was still on the rag and the rest of the shield still needed done.
“Hades.” Ares greeted dryly.
”I heard there was a war, nephew. You must be glad!"
At this, Ares’s blue eyes lit up and he grinned, gesturing to the shield. “Happy enough to start polishing my weapons.” And then he twisted a little bit to gesture at the display of helm, bracers, greves, chest plate, sword, spear, and battle ax, already done. His eyes returned to Hades. He didn’t need to ask why war would excite the god of the underworld. War meant souls. Souls meant Hades was in zero danger of having nothing to do. A fate worse than death; boredom.
"Oh, I forgot. You weren't going to be there, you poor injured soul."
Ares gave a wry twist of his mouth.
“Not in the pirate’s body,” he agreed. “No. But I’ll be watching from here and I might overtake a man or two, and I will most definitely be there in spirit. How can I leave those poor mortals to fight alone?” He was trying to ignore Hades’s most pressing point; that no, he would not be there to enjoy the prebattle campfires, the commaradere that happened just before and after a battle, that moment in the very middle when you’re spinning from side to side, not caring who or what your sword sinks into. That, he would miss.
"You can enjoy your time with my plaything I guess."
Ares snorted in derision. “From what she tells me, she’ll be my plaything before she’s ever been yours.” And here it was his turn to smirk at Hades. “You’re too slow.”
It was like he oozed the aura of his own realm, and the souls and spirits working within his nephew's temple shied away from him. Perhaps long ago, when he had newly taken over the Underworld, Hades would've scowled at how people automatically feared and avoided his presence, but the eons he had spent now meant he liked it when he could easily walk through a crowd and no one would intentionally try and come in his way. It gave him ease of passage, and really, sometimes he liked watching them flinch when he waved his bident in their direction.
The God of Souls raised a brow at the dry greeting of his nephew. What happened to the impossible energy the god of war always had when he visited and caused havoc in his realm? Oh, so he couldn't come and visit in return. Tsk tsk, his nephew really needed some lessons in manners.
Smirking as he watched the young god polishing his weapons, and lifted a hand. A quick snap of his fingers, and the shield he was halfway done with suddenly gleamed as if it has already been polished and done, and Hades grinned at the young god, a sight rarely seen. "You can thank me later." the elder god smirked. Picking up his black chiton's that floated as if he had his own field of wind around him, Hades took up a seat on a nearby table which had previously been piled with newly shined chest plates and braces. The shined items had instead, been moved to the floor with a flick of his wrist, and now the God of Souls perched upon the platform as he observed the wry twist of the other's mouth.
He raised a brow, and gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "Not that I care. Haven't you learned what happens when you rush things, nephew? I much prefer slow enjoyment." he drawled in response, smirking. Whether or not he'd continue with his plaything picked up from Egypt was a decision Hades had yet to make, but he had other things to busy his thoughts with these days. "So I'll be seeing you on the battlefield?" Hades asked in return, another brow raised. "Sad though. You're just going to be fighting. No strategizing, no chatting about what had just occured... maybe Athena was right." he jabbed, insinuating how Athena often called Ares all brawn and no brain, or many other variances of the same accusation.
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It was like he oozed the aura of his own realm, and the souls and spirits working within his nephew's temple shied away from him. Perhaps long ago, when he had newly taken over the Underworld, Hades would've scowled at how people automatically feared and avoided his presence, but the eons he had spent now meant he liked it when he could easily walk through a crowd and no one would intentionally try and come in his way. It gave him ease of passage, and really, sometimes he liked watching them flinch when he waved his bident in their direction.
The God of Souls raised a brow at the dry greeting of his nephew. What happened to the impossible energy the god of war always had when he visited and caused havoc in his realm? Oh, so he couldn't come and visit in return. Tsk tsk, his nephew really needed some lessons in manners.
Smirking as he watched the young god polishing his weapons, and lifted a hand. A quick snap of his fingers, and the shield he was halfway done with suddenly gleamed as if it has already been polished and done, and Hades grinned at the young god, a sight rarely seen. "You can thank me later." the elder god smirked. Picking up his black chiton's that floated as if he had his own field of wind around him, Hades took up a seat on a nearby table which had previously been piled with newly shined chest plates and braces. The shined items had instead, been moved to the floor with a flick of his wrist, and now the God of Souls perched upon the platform as he observed the wry twist of the other's mouth.
He raised a brow, and gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "Not that I care. Haven't you learned what happens when you rush things, nephew? I much prefer slow enjoyment." he drawled in response, smirking. Whether or not he'd continue with his plaything picked up from Egypt was a decision Hades had yet to make, but he had other things to busy his thoughts with these days. "So I'll be seeing you on the battlefield?" Hades asked in return, another brow raised. "Sad though. You're just going to be fighting. No strategizing, no chatting about what had just occured... maybe Athena was right." he jabbed, insinuating how Athena often called Ares all brawn and no brain, or many other variances of the same accusation.
It was like he oozed the aura of his own realm, and the souls and spirits working within his nephew's temple shied away from him. Perhaps long ago, when he had newly taken over the Underworld, Hades would've scowled at how people automatically feared and avoided his presence, but the eons he had spent now meant he liked it when he could easily walk through a crowd and no one would intentionally try and come in his way. It gave him ease of passage, and really, sometimes he liked watching them flinch when he waved his bident in their direction.
The God of Souls raised a brow at the dry greeting of his nephew. What happened to the impossible energy the god of war always had when he visited and caused havoc in his realm? Oh, so he couldn't come and visit in return. Tsk tsk, his nephew really needed some lessons in manners.
Smirking as he watched the young god polishing his weapons, and lifted a hand. A quick snap of his fingers, and the shield he was halfway done with suddenly gleamed as if it has already been polished and done, and Hades grinned at the young god, a sight rarely seen. "You can thank me later." the elder god smirked. Picking up his black chiton's that floated as if he had his own field of wind around him, Hades took up a seat on a nearby table which had previously been piled with newly shined chest plates and braces. The shined items had instead, been moved to the floor with a flick of his wrist, and now the God of Souls perched upon the platform as he observed the wry twist of the other's mouth.
He raised a brow, and gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "Not that I care. Haven't you learned what happens when you rush things, nephew? I much prefer slow enjoyment." he drawled in response, smirking. Whether or not he'd continue with his plaything picked up from Egypt was a decision Hades had yet to make, but he had other things to busy his thoughts with these days. "So I'll be seeing you on the battlefield?" Hades asked in return, another brow raised. "Sad though. You're just going to be fighting. No strategizing, no chatting about what had just occured... maybe Athena was right." he jabbed, insinuating how Athena often called Ares all brawn and no brain, or many other variances of the same accusation.
Ares’s eyes had drifted back down to the shield and he watched the rag’s progress over the bronze expanse of metal. Wide swaths of grease marred the surface but once rubbed away, the shield would gleam, boasting the exertion of his efforts. Except, all at once, the grease was gone, the shield was nearly blinding, and Ares stared down into his own irate reflection. His eyes zipped up to Hades whose leering face betrayed the source of the unwanted help. “You can thank me later.” His tone was snide to Ares’s ears. Hades sauntered around, displacing any number of Ares’s careful piles, smirking as he did so.
The god of war shoved the shield off his lap and surged to his feet. “You cur,” he hissed, snatching up shield and breastplate, flinging them this way and that to be caught by nymphs or satyrs who whoever happened to be flitting around them at the time. Each one was caught as the inhabitants of this tomae knew full well that to drop a favorite item of Ares’ meant they might be incinerated that very instant.
“Not that I care. Haven't you learned what happens when you rush things, nephew? I much prefer slow enjoyment.” Hades continued, talking now of the Bedoan girl. Ares clenched and unclenched his jaw. It didn’t matter that he caused havoc in the underworld. Hades rather deserved it, he felt and this was further proof.
Panic, in pure immortal doggy betrayal, yawned and stretched. His black tail wagged slowly as he padded up to the god of souls, sniffing first at the hem of Hades’s garments, working his nose up the god’s leg, tail wagging harder when he scented Cerberus. “Panic!” Ares had half a mind to grab the dog by the collar and jerk him back to his side. He did not, however, because Terror had joined his brother and was climbing up into Hades’s lap to try to lick his face. Neither dog was as giant as Cerberus but they weren’t small, either. Each was about the size of a man if they stood on their hindlegs, so it was quite something to have one or both the dogs trying to worm their way into your lap.
“So I'll be seeing you on the battlefield?”
“Ah, intermittently,” Ares didn’t like to be made out as a coward. “I have other plans.”
“Sad though. You're just going to be fighting. No strategizing, no chatting about what had just occurred... maybe Athena was right.”
“Maybe Athenia can mind her own business,” Ares snapped. “What do you and Miss Perfect have to talk about anyway?” he snapped his fingers at his dogs but they came only reluctantly, not quite done sniffing and snuffling Hades. “Terror. Come.” The dog finally pushed away from Hades and trotted back to the kline, settling on it with a doggy groan, resting his head on his paws.
“I’m surprised you’ll be there,” Ares noted. “I’d have assumed you had better things to do.”
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Ares’s eyes had drifted back down to the shield and he watched the rag’s progress over the bronze expanse of metal. Wide swaths of grease marred the surface but once rubbed away, the shield would gleam, boasting the exertion of his efforts. Except, all at once, the grease was gone, the shield was nearly blinding, and Ares stared down into his own irate reflection. His eyes zipped up to Hades whose leering face betrayed the source of the unwanted help. “You can thank me later.” His tone was snide to Ares’s ears. Hades sauntered around, displacing any number of Ares’s careful piles, smirking as he did so.
The god of war shoved the shield off his lap and surged to his feet. “You cur,” he hissed, snatching up shield and breastplate, flinging them this way and that to be caught by nymphs or satyrs who whoever happened to be flitting around them at the time. Each one was caught as the inhabitants of this tomae knew full well that to drop a favorite item of Ares’ meant they might be incinerated that very instant.
“Not that I care. Haven't you learned what happens when you rush things, nephew? I much prefer slow enjoyment.” Hades continued, talking now of the Bedoan girl. Ares clenched and unclenched his jaw. It didn’t matter that he caused havoc in the underworld. Hades rather deserved it, he felt and this was further proof.
Panic, in pure immortal doggy betrayal, yawned and stretched. His black tail wagged slowly as he padded up to the god of souls, sniffing first at the hem of Hades’s garments, working his nose up the god’s leg, tail wagging harder when he scented Cerberus. “Panic!” Ares had half a mind to grab the dog by the collar and jerk him back to his side. He did not, however, because Terror had joined his brother and was climbing up into Hades’s lap to try to lick his face. Neither dog was as giant as Cerberus but they weren’t small, either. Each was about the size of a man if they stood on their hindlegs, so it was quite something to have one or both the dogs trying to worm their way into your lap.
“So I'll be seeing you on the battlefield?”
“Ah, intermittently,” Ares didn’t like to be made out as a coward. “I have other plans.”
“Sad though. You're just going to be fighting. No strategizing, no chatting about what had just occurred... maybe Athena was right.”
“Maybe Athenia can mind her own business,” Ares snapped. “What do you and Miss Perfect have to talk about anyway?” he snapped his fingers at his dogs but they came only reluctantly, not quite done sniffing and snuffling Hades. “Terror. Come.” The dog finally pushed away from Hades and trotted back to the kline, settling on it with a doggy groan, resting his head on his paws.
“I’m surprised you’ll be there,” Ares noted. “I’d have assumed you had better things to do.”
Ares’s eyes had drifted back down to the shield and he watched the rag’s progress over the bronze expanse of metal. Wide swaths of grease marred the surface but once rubbed away, the shield would gleam, boasting the exertion of his efforts. Except, all at once, the grease was gone, the shield was nearly blinding, and Ares stared down into his own irate reflection. His eyes zipped up to Hades whose leering face betrayed the source of the unwanted help. “You can thank me later.” His tone was snide to Ares’s ears. Hades sauntered around, displacing any number of Ares’s careful piles, smirking as he did so.
The god of war shoved the shield off his lap and surged to his feet. “You cur,” he hissed, snatching up shield and breastplate, flinging them this way and that to be caught by nymphs or satyrs who whoever happened to be flitting around them at the time. Each one was caught as the inhabitants of this tomae knew full well that to drop a favorite item of Ares’ meant they might be incinerated that very instant.
“Not that I care. Haven't you learned what happens when you rush things, nephew? I much prefer slow enjoyment.” Hades continued, talking now of the Bedoan girl. Ares clenched and unclenched his jaw. It didn’t matter that he caused havoc in the underworld. Hades rather deserved it, he felt and this was further proof.
Panic, in pure immortal doggy betrayal, yawned and stretched. His black tail wagged slowly as he padded up to the god of souls, sniffing first at the hem of Hades’s garments, working his nose up the god’s leg, tail wagging harder when he scented Cerberus. “Panic!” Ares had half a mind to grab the dog by the collar and jerk him back to his side. He did not, however, because Terror had joined his brother and was climbing up into Hades’s lap to try to lick his face. Neither dog was as giant as Cerberus but they weren’t small, either. Each was about the size of a man if they stood on their hindlegs, so it was quite something to have one or both the dogs trying to worm their way into your lap.
“So I'll be seeing you on the battlefield?”
“Ah, intermittently,” Ares didn’t like to be made out as a coward. “I have other plans.”
“Sad though. You're just going to be fighting. No strategizing, no chatting about what had just occurred... maybe Athena was right.”
“Maybe Athenia can mind her own business,” Ares snapped. “What do you and Miss Perfect have to talk about anyway?” he snapped his fingers at his dogs but they came only reluctantly, not quite done sniffing and snuffling Hades. “Terror. Come.” The dog finally pushed away from Hades and trotted back to the kline, settling on it with a doggy groan, resting his head on his paws.
“I’m surprised you’ll be there,” Ares noted. “I’d have assumed you had better things to do.”
He lifted a hand, pausing the flying shield and breastplate midair much to the thank of the scrambling nymphs, keeping them afloat as he turned to smirk at his young nephew. "Ah ah ah. Watch how you throw these - you know you'll regret it. I was only helping you, didn't you know?" he murmured with a slow drawl, too eager to draw the ire of Ares. Not that it was a hard task - Ares was far too easy to bring to anger's door. Of course, he was also asking for trouble and there was no doubt Ares would come and mess up the pristine order he's got going in the Underworld, but he'll deal with it when it occurred.
Swinging his hands back, he slowly let the two floating armor drift down to the ground, just as Panic padded up to him. A canine lover himself (have you seen his three-headed dog?), Hades reached out to pat the hound's head, kneeling to allow Terror to lick even as he scratched them both under their chins, just the way they liked it. Used to handling the size of Cerberus, the two war hounds of Ares barely phased the God, giving them the attention they liked.
"Other plans?" he echoed, looking up at his nephew as he straightened once Ares summoned his hounds. As far as Hades knew Ares, he'd never allow 'other plans' interfere with him joining a war, so the dark God raised a brow at the younger one even as he pulled out two bloody steaks to try and lure the two hounds back to his side.
Smirking as the dogs obviously perked up at the smell of food, Hades waved it enticingly at them as he looked at Ares over the top of his eyes. "We speak passingly. I can't avoid all of you. But no, I don't have better things to do, actually. Besides, it's interesting to watch, don't you think? Smell of death in the air. Just your thing, no?"
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He lifted a hand, pausing the flying shield and breastplate midair much to the thank of the scrambling nymphs, keeping them afloat as he turned to smirk at his young nephew. "Ah ah ah. Watch how you throw these - you know you'll regret it. I was only helping you, didn't you know?" he murmured with a slow drawl, too eager to draw the ire of Ares. Not that it was a hard task - Ares was far too easy to bring to anger's door. Of course, he was also asking for trouble and there was no doubt Ares would come and mess up the pristine order he's got going in the Underworld, but he'll deal with it when it occurred.
Swinging his hands back, he slowly let the two floating armor drift down to the ground, just as Panic padded up to him. A canine lover himself (have you seen his three-headed dog?), Hades reached out to pat the hound's head, kneeling to allow Terror to lick even as he scratched them both under their chins, just the way they liked it. Used to handling the size of Cerberus, the two war hounds of Ares barely phased the God, giving them the attention they liked.
"Other plans?" he echoed, looking up at his nephew as he straightened once Ares summoned his hounds. As far as Hades knew Ares, he'd never allow 'other plans' interfere with him joining a war, so the dark God raised a brow at the younger one even as he pulled out two bloody steaks to try and lure the two hounds back to his side.
Smirking as the dogs obviously perked up at the smell of food, Hades waved it enticingly at them as he looked at Ares over the top of his eyes. "We speak passingly. I can't avoid all of you. But no, I don't have better things to do, actually. Besides, it's interesting to watch, don't you think? Smell of death in the air. Just your thing, no?"
He lifted a hand, pausing the flying shield and breastplate midair much to the thank of the scrambling nymphs, keeping them afloat as he turned to smirk at his young nephew. "Ah ah ah. Watch how you throw these - you know you'll regret it. I was only helping you, didn't you know?" he murmured with a slow drawl, too eager to draw the ire of Ares. Not that it was a hard task - Ares was far too easy to bring to anger's door. Of course, he was also asking for trouble and there was no doubt Ares would come and mess up the pristine order he's got going in the Underworld, but he'll deal with it when it occurred.
Swinging his hands back, he slowly let the two floating armor drift down to the ground, just as Panic padded up to him. A canine lover himself (have you seen his three-headed dog?), Hades reached out to pat the hound's head, kneeling to allow Terror to lick even as he scratched them both under their chins, just the way they liked it. Used to handling the size of Cerberus, the two war hounds of Ares barely phased the God, giving them the attention they liked.
"Other plans?" he echoed, looking up at his nephew as he straightened once Ares summoned his hounds. As far as Hades knew Ares, he'd never allow 'other plans' interfere with him joining a war, so the dark God raised a brow at the younger one even as he pulled out two bloody steaks to try and lure the two hounds back to his side.
Smirking as the dogs obviously perked up at the smell of food, Hades waved it enticingly at them as he looked at Ares over the top of his eyes. "We speak passingly. I can't avoid all of you. But no, I don't have better things to do, actually. Besides, it's interesting to watch, don't you think? Smell of death in the air. Just your thing, no?"