Silly humans.
Ares walked through the streets of New York, an economic hub in the United States of America and indeed, the world, turning his nose up at every human he passed by...which happened to be a lot.
Of course, as he walked, most of them had the sense to give way for him. He stood at a commanding height of 6ft.6', he was heavily built; his biceps bulged and his broad chest threatened to tear open the shirt he had on, his ink black hair was tied up in a messy bun behind his head, exposing a sharp jaw-line, thin lips, a roman nose, intense, dark eyes and full, finely-arched brows. He would have passed for handsome, if a thin scar didn't run down his cheek from the arch of his brow. He knew he made an intimidating form whenever he was on earth, but he honestly couldn't help it. he was the god of war for a reason. He wasn't supposed to fit in with these people. He saw the way they stared at him when they walked by, it was one of the reasons why he had a permanent scowl on, so that nobody thought he was approachable.
He had been on earth for about two days now, and he was damn near sick of it. If he didn't have some business here, he would have long returned to Olympus, his home. However, he was drawn to New York City. Being the god of war meant that Ares was to blame for so many human wars over the years. He had had many he was proud of, but he had particularly found delight in the first and second world wars. They had been different from the others, humans had become technologically savvy, they had fought with bombs and guns. Nothing made his heart swell with pride more than thoughts of the chaos and destruction that had trailed those wars...since then though, he hadn't had the kind of wars he wished for. There were small invasions of countries here and there, but those were no wars...still, he was drawn to violence. That was what had brought him to New York.
See, not only was New York an economic hub, it also had more than its own fair share of crime, and it created a breeding ground for all forms of violent activities...things which brought a smile upon Ares' otherwise frowning face. Crime meant guns, crime meant killings, crime meant blood. There were turf wars, power plays, betrayals. No other part of the world served it hotter than New York did, and it was the reason Ares had found himself here.
He planned to stay for as long as the tensions remained at the present tempo. It had increased drastically in the last year, the City was pretty much under siege, but there were no formal declarations of such. The war was being fought underground. It was no World War, but it certainly sufficed.
He found himself standing in front of a restaurant in downtown New York. It was no ordinary restaurant though, no, he could feel the animosity from within- the tension. Promises of violence covered the entire place. It was just what he needed.
He opened the door and stepped into the fancy restaurant, almost snickering at how fancy it was, as opposed to the level of rot within. Typical. Humans always shrouded their evil actions with aesthetic beauty.
The restaurant was almost empty, which was quite odd considering the time of day. He walked to the closest chair, his eyes scanning the area. The people who soiled this place were nowhere in plain sight. Of course, they usually performed their business within the establishments. They had secret rooms for these things.
He took a seat, paying no attention to the staff, who all regarded him with apprehension. He was at a table for almost five minutes, waiting to be attended to by staff who were far too cowardly to approach. While he admitted that he looked intimidating, surely, it wasn't so bad that these people wouldn't approach him. Wasn't it their job to do so? Weren't there humans who had similar appearance to him?
By the time someone finally took up the difficult task of belling the cat, he had lost interest with them...even worse, the sacrificial lamb was as gutless as ever. He was a boy. He looked no older than what they referred to as a teenager, a lanky thing indeed. Ares watched him, with barely held in contempt, as he stuttered a greeting to him. What sort of humans existed these days? How had such a cowardly soul gotten any form of employment? Nothing disgusted him more than the rank smell of fear oozing from a human.
He regarded the boy briefly before speaking in a deep baritone, "I want to see your manager." There was no way he would be dealing with this boy. He wanted to see whoever ran this place, he expected that it would be one of the men who exuded the strength that had drawn him to this place.
"S...sir, I don't...I don't believe that will be possible, sir."
Ares turned his gaze toward him, "And why not?" he asked in a hard voice.
The boy seemed to swallow, shaky eyes looked toward what Ares assumed was the staff area, perhaps for some form of encouragement from his colleagues, "The manager is busy, sir."
Getting increasingly irritated at the mere presence of the boy, Ares said coldly, "I would suggest, you go into your backroom, and get me your manager, before I give you something to really shake you to your bones."
The boy's eyes widened dramatically; it looked like his eyes were going to fall out their sockets and Ares, for the first time, seized some seconds of comic relief, although, his face gave away no such thing. In a flash, the boy scurried off and Ares leaned into the chair, waiting for the real boss. There was dynamite in this place and he planned to set it off before he left.
About a minute after he sent the boy scurrying off, his ears picked up the sound of an approaching person. His gaze looked toward the direction it came from. Those didn't sound like a man's movement. They were different. The clicking was unlike a man's, there was a rush to the movement. Before he caught sight of the person coming, he knew it was no man, and then he caught sight of her...
Unconsciously, Ares found himself sitting up as the most gorgeous human he had ever laid eyes on, approached him, a scowl planted upon her beautiful face. She walked with a confidence that could only be possessed by a man, the click came from a pair of five-inch heels upon graceful feet and powerful legs which were fully exposed in a blue skirt that barely scraped her knees. Full breasts jutted out from a chiffon top, loosely tucked into the skirt. Her auburn hair lay in waves upon her shoulders. Hard blue eyes were trained on him as she made her approach, his eyes took in her angelic face; that upturned nose, pout lips, high cheek-bones, and damn, those eyes, all wrapped in smooth, creamy skin. Zeus help him, such a specimen did not belong on such an unworthy plane.
She stopped in front of his table, her aura almost knocking him off with sheer strength. She had to be the first human who hadn't cowered at the sight of him since he got here. She had the balls of four men this one, which made her even more alluring to him, "Good day, sir." She began, her voice hard and unyielding, "Might you be the reason my staff came into my office like he had been harassed?"
Ares had to applaud his aloofness. Being a god had its advantages, and one of them was that he could control his expressions, even when he was totally floored by a person, "Are you the manager?" he sent back at her
"Yes, and who are you to ask for me?"
Ares couldn't believe her guts. He regarded her form, without those heels, she was barely 5ft.4', even in this chair, he was three times her size. Did she not notice that or she was just courage-filled? "Well, when I asked for the manager, I didn't have one such as you in mind." he responded pointedly.
