Owner	Pose
Lois Lane	Security. One day it'll be the death of Lois Lane. She's not the most patient person at times and with security her temper only seems to grow shorter. Either way, once Lois Lane turned her visitors badge in, had her purse quickly searched and given a stern warning, she was finally allowed to leave. Not that she went /far/. No, instead the woman made her way outside and then to her car, but that's where she stopped. It was for two reasons - one, to begin to commit everything she could remember to her smartphone for later review and two, she wanted to see if she could possibly catch a familiar figure leaving. And while it's a gamble to wait outside of SHIELD HQ, it's a gamble she felt she needed to take. So, that's where Lois Lane is. Standing casually near her car, her fingers flying quickly over the keyboard upon screen, even as her gaze flicks to the doors every time it opens. "Dammit. I know that's how you spell it." Mutters the woman as she angrily stabs at the screen of her phone, "And how do you get nettles from that? It's necessities you stupid phone." Which might say something about how badly she misspelled whatever is on the screen.
Ares	It will be a few hours of wrestling and wrangling with her phone before her patience will be rewarded. Lois Lane is left outside and assuredly the SHIELD security services know that she is still out there, and awaiting. But no effort is taken to displace her. It's just long enough into the late hours that the sun is creeping its way to the edge of the horizon, casting the lot with its tall orange hue, making those shadows around them deep and long.     But persistence is often rewarded if only by the universe heaving over to the stubborn and giving in. Maybe she'll pay a karmic debt in the future for this flow of events, or maybe it'll ask of her more in the future.     Whatever the case may be, she's still there when she sees the tall man escorted to the doors. She'll even see the moment when the cuffs are removed and the two SHIELD agents who had accompanied him before step away warily. For a time he stands there, rubbing his wrists and looking sidelong towards the men, but then he steps back and plants a hand upon the glass door that leads outside. The next moment he's out on the street and starts moving down the sidewalk with a steady stride.
Lois Lane	Stubborn. That's a good way to describe Lois Lane. Stubborn and patient only in this particular type of waiting. Security no, but waiting for the potential of a story to appear, yes. It's what has allowed her to unravel the complexities of a cover-up, to tease out the root of the real issue at play and yes, to even watch people when needed. They don't call it stalking at the Planet. So, as the wait drags onward Lois does several things - she works upon her smartphone (wonderful thing that it is) and moves from waiting inside her car, to outside, depending on her mood. She's also quite aware that security is likely keeping a close eye on her; that's definitely /not unexpected/. If she were them she too would keep an eye on herself. Reporters. They're far too nosey for their own good. As the hours stretch towards dusk, Lois will find herself back outside her car. She's giving her sore back a stretch, even as she checks her e-mail again. A message from Clark, Cat, Perry - nothing too important, though she does read Perry's e-mail on the off chance it is, but no. Just a confirmation upon another article she wrote. A weary sigh will come form the woman now, even as she finally tucks her cellphone into one of the pockets upon her blazer. Blue-eyes raise upward to take a peek at the doorway and at just the time she looks at the doorway John Aaron emerges. A brief note of triumph enters Lois' eyes upon seeing the tall man and with the wait now over, the reporter moves. Stepping away from her car, Lois moves to match stride with Ares, though she'll have to double-time it thanks to the disparity of height. And whether calling out his name helps or hinders, Lois does add for good measure, "Mr. Aaron."
Ares	The tall man levels those brown eyes on her, his attention falling upon her with such an air of judgement she might almost feel inclined to consult a lawyer. At first there's an edge there, something flirting with anger but not having the legs to carry it through the job. Instead she can almost see the workings of his thoughts as the reality of the matter lets his mood slip from the kneejerk of annoyance or anger, to something akin to acceptance.     "Ms. Lane," John Aaron looks to her and then those brown eyes slip past her, drifting to the distance as if he were considering where their paths might lie. Brow furrowing, he looks back to her and slides his hands out of his pockets. "Very well, take me somewhere and feed me and I'll tell you what you wish."     His ire's shifted with the slight smile given. He's a man who has come to grips with the inevitable, and the form it takes in her is at the least one that has not done him ill. So far.
Lois Lane	Judgement. Something she's dealt with before, though perhaps not quite on this level. While it might cause a frisson of unease to cause her belly to twist, it doesn't stop the slight chin raise upward. It's only as that thoughtfulness enters his gaze that Lois Lane's stance relaxes somewhat. Consideration rarely leads to an actual fight. Well, in most cases. At her name, Lois will nod, even as she continues to watch and wait, to see just how Ares is going to react to her presence. Thankfully, when his intentions are made clear the rest of that tension leaves Lois' frame. His mention of food earns a faint crooked smile from the woman, even as she tilts her head back the way the two came. Towards her car. "Sure, I can feed you." She quips lightly, even as she considers just where they are and what they're closest too. After that moment of thought Lois makes her decision and then it's a short hop, skip and jump away from the Triskelion. Or in reality a little bit of a walk away, down the street, down three more, before the two are at a Deli. It's both a sit-down deli and a carry-out, for this, Lois opts for sit-down. Once inside the wait is very brief, as the waitress slash sever immediately approaches the two. "Afternoon." Lois says politely enough, then, "Two, please." Then the server leads Ares and Lois back to a table. The business inside the deli is brisk and half of the tables are full, but there's still enough room between those nearest to afford some privacy. Heavy menus are placed upon the tabletop alongside upside down coffee cups, as well as napkin wrapped silverware.
Ares	Mr. Aaron settles into his seat and takes up a menu to peruse its contents. He lifts his voice, the rumbling growl of his words sounding darker than their intent. "No alcohol, smart move." His lip curls into a ghost of a smile as he then sets the menu aside and then his gaze meets hers.     With some measure of solemnity, the erstwhile god rests his hands upon the tabletop, fingertips interlacing while his eyes find hers. "Ms. Lane, before we begin I wish you to know that I will answer you, and I will not dissemble. However, I do not wish you to go to print. What you have is damaging enough, and will harm my life and the life of my family. But I feel that it is better for you to have all the facts at hand, as opposed to going to press with only a partial picture."     There's a moment of hesitation as he looks to the side out the window of the deli. He worries at the inside of his mouth, then looks back to her. "I value my anonymity. I do not try to tread amongst the heroes nor the villains. I wish to live my life and affect nothing beyond my job and my family."     Then he spreads his hands as if having gotten past that, he then says. "Now to important matters." He smiles slightly, "I'll have the pastrami on rye."
Lois Lane	The reporter listens to what the man has to say. And while there are moments where she'd like to interrupt with a question, or two, she doesn't. Instead, her expression will turn to something more amused, when he offers that last line of his. Important stuff, indeed. That does cause her to turn her attention to her own menu for a quick minute, only taking a moment or two to make a decision. Just in time too, as the waitress slides up. She has a coffee pot in her hand as she looks between the two. Lois turns her cup over to allow the woman to pour some in. Should Ares turn his own cup over the waitress will likewise fill his cup. "Pastrami on rye for the gentleman and I'll take the corned beef. Half sandwich only for me, please." The waitress writes down their orders with a friendly smile, before she disappears. "Won't take long." Now it's back to Lois, as she turns a considering gaze upon Ares. "You'll likely be relieve to know I wasn't planning on publishing this story." And if Perry could hear those words right now he'd probably have a heart attack. "I may love exposing the truth for people to see, but even I know there are /some/ things that could hurt the world. I think telling your story would be one of those." Her head tilts slightly then, "Or at least, telling your story right this moment. Perhaps when the world accepts the fantastical a bit more, we could." The we stressed there.
Ares	The man's first thought is so often wariness, with what he has seen in life and what has passed, it is what comes to the fore when dealing with another. Yet what reason would she have to lie about this? Several actually. But it changes the matter little in some ways, for he had intended to be truthful with her, and to answer her questions. At the most... if she is not speaking for true then it will be but a bad reflection upon her. So he gives a nod.     His hands remain upon the tabletop, his gaze level with hers. "I will trust to your judgement then as to the day to break the story, and if matters change and I am forced to the forefront of the world in some manner, I shall not think it ill of you to offer your words and your insights."     Once his cup of coffee is filled, he accepts it without augmenting the flavor. Instead he simply takes a sip and glances aside towards the closest possible individual who might overhear them. None too close, and with the white noise in the room chances are their voices at such subdued tones will carry naught at all.     "At your leisure, then, Ms. Lane. I await you."
Lois Lane	Fingers itch to bring her smartphone out, for the recording function of it, but Lois Lane ignores that crutch just this moment. She'd rather not bring any attention to their table or conversation. His words bring a nod from the woman, even a flash of humor now, "That sounds like a promise to do an exclusive at the Planet when the time comes." Implied there that the time will eventually present itself for him to reveal himself and his story. It's at his last words that Lois will take a sip of her own coffee, a stalling technique if ever one, as she considers just which question to ask first. There are so many. So. Many. Finally when her cup meets saucer a decision on what question to ask first is made. "Why?" And while she could leave it at that one word, she doesn't, "Why give everything up to live life as a mortal?"
Ares	The haggard looking man scrunches up one eye as he looks at her askance, "What exactly does exclusive mean in this context, I have never been entirely clear. I can speak to no others save you? Or insure you gain the 'scoop' as it were?" He crinkles his nose lightly, even as the handful of people and other customers around them continue to chat lazily.     Then he waves a hand to the side, "No matter."     It's at her question asked that he gives a nod and murmurs, "To understand that it would perhaps require framing, to understand what my past has been and why I came to such a decision." He settles back in his chair, the seat complaining with a wooden creak. "But answer me this, Ms. Lane. What is your first memory? The first moment that you perceive that formed you into this self that you hold as your identity."
Lois Lane	Even as he waves aside the question Lois still answers. "Either let us run the story before you speak to other people, or only speak to the Planet on all matters. Your choice." She adds, which is rare for her, since Lois usually pushes for Planet only, but then these circumstances are a little ... odd. Adjustments must be made. Then she's considering her answer to his question. It's enough that she sits there for several minutes, trying to figure out how best to answer it. "If you mean to the woman I am today, that's difficult. How about a realization versus memory." Her fingers will encircle her warm cup of coffee as she continues to speak, "I'd say it was the day I realized that terrible things happen in the world and that sometimes there's no one to stop them. That sometimes they aren't even brought to the light of day. That whatever happened would never be brought to justice and those people who did it would be allowed to do it over and over again." Then there's a tilt of her head and a quirk of a smile, "Otherwise if you mean my true first memory, I have to tell you it's not very interesting." "Your turn." She'll say, her cup lifted upward again for a sip.
Ares	His attention is total, for there is no fidgeting from him, there is no deference paid to what passes around them. Her words have him and his eyes follow hers as she speaks. To some it is often disconcerting, for people are by nature creatures of their environment, if only having been a prey species so many many years ago.     But John seems utterly in command of the moment, and he is not truly there for any reason save for this exchange of ideas and thoughts with this mortal woman who dared to pursue him. Bear the end of her confession his lip twists slightly, but a gleam of amusement as she turns the tables to him.     "I remembered anger. I felt angry for being ill-used somehow, and I had not the words to understand it at the time. I wanted revenge. For what I had no idea. I was young, for I remember looking up at all those around me. But this feeling came to me as I stood before a mountain. I knew that I had to climb to its pinnacle and that there were those who would oppose me."     Those brown eyes narrow as he looks to her, the man's attention unwavering and intense. "I had something in my hand, and I held it aloft as I pointed towards the mountain. A great noise rose up behind me and I turned to see an army of men who all charged forth with blood in their hearts."     He takes a moment to take up his coffee and takes another sip, moistening his throat before he tells her, "I led those men to put Olympus to the sword. And before the gates were breached it was then that my father spoke to me. That was my first memory, Ms. Lane. To me it was that moment that I was born, at the head of an army, with a blade of onyx in my hand, knowing only hatred and rage."
Lois Lane	Perhaps surprisingly Lois doesn't necessarily twitch when Ares' gaze is focused upon her. It's part of being a reporter; all eyes and sometimes cameras are on you, and it's something that one gets used to. Necessity and all of that. And she often does the same thing to others, especially when they tell their story. Much like Ares is doing. What he says causes Lois to frown ever-so-slightly, not in anger, or frustration, but in concentration. Both to remember how he phrases things, but also to try and parse out all the context within the story. While most mortals would likely already be shellshocked by knowing the man across from her is a god, it's only with his story or memory, that Lois' expression turns to something akin to astonishment. That astonishment stays upon expression for a minute; far longer than she'd like, but even she can be surprised. /Finally/, Lois can't quite help the deep breath that leaves her, "That's a terrible first memory to have." She begins, the words possibly sounding light-hearted, even if her tone is quite serious and so not. "Is that what caused you to leave?" Are her last words, sounding as normal as can be, as if the two were chatting about everyday things versus not.
Ares	There is a small shake of his head and he tells her, "That was..." John sits up slowly as he takes a deep breath, as if trying to encompass the entirety of memory, the whole of experience. He pushes a rough calloused hand over his stubbly scalp, scritching momentarily before his hand returns to the other, fingers interlacing once again. "Several thousand years ago. It was my first moment as the God of War."     The man's brow knits together and he worries at the inside of his cheek, then he murmurs. "When I turned my back on my home was two hundred and five years ago." His head cants slightly as his thoughts shift inwards, seeking the moment to best begin with, to signify the reason for his departure. He looks to her and tries to set the scene as best he can, "When I speak to you of Olympus you most likely imagine... great clouds, beautiful people looking beautiful with each other, sitting in a lap of luxury eating grapes and laughing at the poor mortals below." He lifts a hand to the side of his jaw and frowns. "And in some ways that is partially accurate. There are gatherings, there are scenes of utter hedonistic madness, and the most vicious indulgences enjoyed by beings who have an inability to empathize with anything beyond what provides them their next moment of amusement. It is a place of great halls, and illusionary finery maintained by beings whose main concern is getting one up on their peers in what they call the Great Game. It is all cheap. And tawdry. And small."     He flares his hands from his cup of coffee, "I was no exception in many ways. Though amongst my peers... I was never quite the same. I... represented carnage, and bloodlust, and the wild abandon of pure conflict. To them I was an animal. In many ways I still am."
Lois Lane	His first memory of being the God of War. That seems to make it even worse in Lois' eyes, as her mouth crimps downward slightly. Her expression clearly reads 'that's /still/ a terrible' memory. And it is. Again, the journalist turns quiet as she digests everything that he tells her. Thank god she deals with the more fantastical world of super-heroes versus the mundane, otherwise she likely wouldn't be able to keep up with this conversation. And even so, she still feels a vague note of unreality here. That doesn't stop her from focusing on the conversation at hand, however, as Ares describes life on Mount Olympus. A murmur will be quietly interjected as he speaks, "Good to know the movies got it somewhat right.", because how can you not say that? Especially Lois Lane. A little sarcastic humor is what keeps her anchored in a conversation that like this. "I can't say I'm unfamiliar with being the black sheep of the family -" She says, her coffee cup suspended half-way between the table and her mouth, as she speaks. "- But I'd imagine that feeling would be far worse in a place like that." She shakes her head and her next question pauses as the food arrives, one plate set in front of Ares and the second in front of Lois. For now Lois doesn't reach for the food, instead offering the waitress a quick smile in thanks, before her gaze is back upon Ares. "What changed? Let me rephrase that, what changed you that you didn't find that life fulfilling any longer?" She'll finally ask, that question a hazard of a guess, but one that's hopefully in the right ballpark.
Ares	The man smiles a bit, a brief exhalation as something close to a short laugh. But then he straightens up as the food arrives and he pushes his coffee cup out of the way. A nod is given to the waitress before he returns his attention towards Lois. "Ah,"     His brow knits together as he takes one of the triangular sections of his sandwich and tears off a small piece of it. "Well, those two hundred and five years ago, Olympus was besieged by beings of... chaos." He takes a bite of the sandwich and then sets it down upon its plate, leaving it mostly untouched. A small drink of coffee to wash it down and then he pushes that out of the way as well. There's almost something ritualistic about those movements, as if having done so they are now bound by certain tenets.     "Even at that time I was feeling... disaffected. At first the war went well, and they crowed that they did not need me. Athena, Herakles, they were able to stand victorious while I was banished." He meets her eyes and murmurs, "But the war took a turn. Their efforts faltered, and slowly they were turned back. It wasn't until the gates of Olympus were under the ram that they eventually called for me. I considered not heeding them. Yet I did."     He waves a hand to the side as he passes time with his words, "The situation was dire, and I was able to turn the battle against them. But to do so..." He stops talking for a moment. The silence between them stretching long even as the room around them continues to flow with the movement of the humanity around them.     Just as it may be reaching the point of discomfort he continues, "To do so I had to take such steps that men and gods both would find profane, horrible. It was not enough to slay them. They and their people had to be destroyed. And I did so. And I did not stop until there was not a single one left. It was a grand sacrifice in blood that I laid upon the altar of Olympus, no small part of my... soul." His lip curls slightly, sardonic as if the idea of him having a soul amused him sourly. "Joined that offering. And when I returned to the grand hall. When I advanced before Zeus, bloodied from head to toe. They looked on me with horror. They turned away from me, for I had become something... something else entirely."
Lois Lane	He may take a bit of his food, but Lois doesn't. No, she's too involved with listening to what the man across from her has to say. "A being of chaos." States the reporter, an eyebrow raising upward. "Does the being have a name?" She asks curiously, though that question is more rhetorical than actual. There's more story to be told and for Lois to listen to. And when that silence stretches on for so long, Lois will shift slightly in her seat, not uncomfortable per se, but ready to allow a small noise of questioning to prompt a response. Or perhaps bring the man back to the present. Thankfully, before she does that his attention returns and so continues the story. At his explanation of just how the battle went and then the aftermath, Lois once again falls silent. Truly, this is probably the only 'interview' where she's been more quiet than questioning, but it is what it is. When her brain can finally go beyond the fantastical (yet again), Lois says quite slowly. "That sounds terrible. I'm sorry you had to go through that." And while that might not be the correct thing to say to a god, Lois still says it. It's something she's heard other soldiers say after telling a story that forever scarred them. The type of psychological wound that never leaves a person. Now she considers her next question, gaze looking faintly troubled. Still, the question remains and so, Lois asks, "What had you become?"
Ares	"Some of them did," He answers her first question, "Creatures born from other realms, other dimensions. They are antithetical to our kind, who seek to wipe out our existence to get to the realms beyond." John looks up for a moment, brow furrowing as he ponders, then he points at her as he murmurs, "There was a creature several years ago? That was found in the Great Lakes, I believe several heroes faced and defeated it. I believe that was a similar creature."     But then he dismisses her words of consolation, shaking his head as if his own feelings were immaterial at the time. He instead looks back to her at that last question as he frowns. "I became an animal. A thing without thought who did naught save kill. I held to myself some... feeling of identity. The God of War, of Battle. I would exult and glorify acts of skill and valor. But this... there was neither. If this was what I was to become I would be nothing more than the spirit of murder."     He shakes his head, "I did not wish it to be so. I left. No word to any of them. I think they preferred it that way as it had been a long time since they sought me."
Lois Lane	The Great Lakes. There's a definite mental note for Lois to look into that. To see the specifics of what happened there. But that'll be later, much later, for now it's all about the here and the now. Again, there's a quietness from Lois Lane as the reporter digests all that has been said. "Had." She says finally, as her gaze re-focuses upon Ares. "Had sought you out. They've decided to speak to you again?" She asks, even as she pulls her plate a bit closer, just in case she gets a chance to eat. "To ask you to return home?" She hazards, though that doesn't necessarily feel right to her, so she adds, "Or do they need help?" That's still not exactly the right question and it's enough to cause Lois to add a final one. "But would you leave? I'd say no, not with your son here." And there's a question there about the son, but that's not asked for now. Children are different in Lois' mind. You don't drag them through the mud.
Ares	In answer to her question he responds, "After a fashion." Ares looks askance towards his drink and lightly rests a hand at the base, toying with a small beadlet of condensation before taking another drink. His brow knits together as he tries to consider the proper way to order events that they will at the least make sense to her. "In my absence, perhaps as a way to save face... or perhaps merely to prevent showing weakness, he raised my eldest son Phobos to be the new God of War."     A certain weight seems to prey heavily upon John's brow as he looks to the side and after a moment he nods. "In any case, roughly two hundred years passed. I walked the earth." He looks back to her and tries to give a small smile, making light of the time. "I tried my hand at different professions. I was a soldier at various times, of course. I laid miles of railroad. I was a carpenter. I even tried my hand at being a farmer, and failed. But the learning of such was good."     He spreads his hands gently, "And then I met Alexander's mother."
Lois Lane	Phobos. If Lois were anyone else all the name dropping would make her head spin. Though truth be told, it does, she just has her reporter face on. It shows very little, beyond interest and an attentiveness to the conversation at hand. "And is your eldest son still the god of War?" She asks, even at the 'hand-wave' of time passing. That's enough to earns a twist of Lois Lane's lips into something like a smirk, though not quite as harsh. "Yes, two hundred years just like that." She'll offer, her voice holding a note of amusement within it. When he confirms he was a soldier, which is now not quite so surprising, she'll nod. At last her instincts were right, though perhaps not for the right year, era, something. The next appropriate pause, Lois will lean forward slightly to interject another curious question, "What caused your farm to fail?" Of course, when Ares' brings up the mother if his child, the reporter's gaze will sharpen. She hadn't expected Ares to bring this particular history point up. At least, not on his own. And really, Lois is hard pressed to say if she'd ask. Perhaps if it were a normal interview she would have, but this is anything but normal. So, instead she'll say, "And it was love at first sight?" A little bit of humor to deflect some of the heaviness that this conversation potentially brings forth.
Ares	"No," Ares answers her as he looks at her sidelong, "He... is not." He perhaps shifts that question away, and her reporter's instincts can tell he's diverting, but not for the reason of dissembling. Perhaps merely delaying the answer in some token nod towards the path of telling a story. "But ah, my farm. I still have it, and it's being tended to. California, after the second war with Germany. It was..."     He takes another drink of his water and then adds, "There was a drought a few years, and the soil wasn't the best. Also I could not swallow my pride enough to take on help. I didn't make money with it, but... I enjoyed the work."     That having been said though he looks at her as she speaks of Alexanders mother. "Oh no." He gives a small laugh, "Far from it. She was a police officer, do you recall the flooding in Texas some time back?"
Lois Lane	He isn't. Oh yes, that definitely has her instincts sitting up and taking notice. And while she doesn't outright say anything, there is a promise held within her eyes. They'll be returning to that one as soon as she can. After all, Lois can appreciate good story-telling, that's part of why she does what she does. To one, tell it smartly and two, to let the world know what's going on. "Huh." Begins the woman with a crimp of a smile, "Color me /not/ surprised that you find it hard accepting help." Not that Lois can say anything to that, but she's not the one being questioned. His question about flooding earns a thoughtful look from Lois and with a nod, she'll say, "I'm sure I do, but without a little more information I can think of several floods that happened -" She'll offer a wave of her hand, "- Not that it matters. I'm sure I can figure it out later. Continue, please." "And then we can circle back around to your eldest son and his lack of a current job." There, he's been warned now that she intends to hear that story, as well.
Ares	"I... often have a difficulty tracking the passage of time. But while I was living on Earth, I would hold back my presence. Exert few if any of my abilities."     Ares waves off her curiousity about Phobos, for truly he intends to tell that tale. "But she was a strong woman, she kept placing herself in harm's way during the flooding. And she shamed me for not doing what I could."     A small smirk touches his features but then he settles to the side in his chair, causing it to complain with a wooden creak. "So I did. And our mutual anger turned to affection and..." He waves a hand. His brow knits and he takes a breath, "But she passed in child birth. I feared it had something to do with my heritage... but apparently it was simply..." He shakes his head and does not go into details.     Instead he turns back to her, "But what has changed things of late was that the Olympians found me. My sister, Athena, came to earth and attempted to reconcile matters."
Lois Lane	His description of Alexander's mother earns a more natural smile from Lois Lane. "Sounds like my kind of woman." Says the reporter, her gaze still holding that note of humor. Though that quiet amusement shifts to something else when Ares reveals how the office died. Expression turning apologetic, the reporter says quietly, "All of our technology and child birth can still kill so indiscriminately. I'm sorry for and for your son. That has to be hard for you both." She'll offer to the man, even as she leans back against her chair. Her seat quiet with her slight shift, versus his own. And while she could ask more questions Lois waits a moment, she waits for him to speak again, allowing Ares to pull back from those particular memories of his. Of course, the mention of Athena causes the reporter's eyebrows to rise upward again. "I don't know why I let that surprise me. Not after all you've said today." There's a vague shake of her head, more at herself than Ares, before she continues with. "And how did that reconciliation go? Wait let me guess, not well." Because siblings. It never goes well. Lois understands this.
Ares	A hand is held up to accept her offer of condolences but also to dismiss the obligation such implies. "It actually went passingly well but she can be a touch... flighty." His lip curls as he looks towards Lois, his face lighting up a little to speak on this about his sister. "She thought to follow my example in a way, live life as a mortal. She even tried to become an author..."     He shakes his head, "And she will be terribly displeased if I tell you her pen name. So I shall not." He smiles but it's a smile that is chased off after a moment as he continues with the tale. "Unfortunately it led to others of our kind finding that I still lived. I began to be set upon at times. Creatures of shadow and myth. I was able to fend them off, but the attacks became more frequent."     She can perhaps sense how he is passing over events, perhaps thinking they might be of no interest or serve no purpose to the narrative, each pause assuredly passing over a moment that has no need to be related. "It came to a head, however. And I found that the Olympian who had been seeking my death was Phobos."     He smiles faintly, sadly as he looks across the table to her, holding her gaze. "And that is why I was being questioned at the Triskelion. We battled." His smile fades, "We fought across worlds and time, and it was there in New York that we fell. I had been trying to get him to yield, but he threatened Alexander and forced a choice on me."     That weighs heavy, his eyes turned to the side as his brow wrinkles with the distant focus that holds his attention, as if seeing the moment all over again. "I took his life. And for now... there is peace. But with his passing the mantle has fallen to me again."
Lois Lane	An author. That earns a second look from Lois Lane. Again, with that surprise. Oh well. Surely even The Planet's best reporter can allow to be surprised every now and then. It's only when Ares forestalls her next question that Lois will laugh out loud. "Not fair. You can't just dangle that carrot and then take it away so quickly." Still, that amusement fades as Ares moves onto more serious matters. While she doesn't necessarily interrupt Ares' tale, she will allow a faint nod to be given. She's not necessarily surprised when he drops Phobos' name. There was enough foreshadowing for Lois to begin to see how this particular story was beginning to shape up. It's, however, the mention of Ares' taking his son's life that causes the reporter to lean back again. A sigh leaves the dark-haired woman as she considers the man across from her. Man. God. Father. Whatever the best label might be used at this time. Again, she'll say, "I'm sorry for your loss." What else can she say? It's only natural for humans to empathize with one another over a death of a family member. Even if the relationship might not have been the best. She'll reach for her coffee cup now, biding her time for a few seconds with that drink. The contents are mostly lukewarm, but it'll still be drunk. It's only after the cup has been placed back upon the saucer, that the questions will start. "So, what does this mean for you? You left because of a disagreement. A philosophical disagreement, in my opinion, what happens if that occurs again? Would you be so willing to give up the mantle again? And what would happen if no one held that title? Chaos?" She hazards a guess, before one last question is added, "And your other son - what does this mean for him?"
Ares	"There are..." Ares looks across the table and flares his hands slightly, as for now this is in the realm of the future, considering what may or may not happen. "There are a few possibilities. Zeus has lost face, one way or the other. So he will be displeased." Ares rubs at his chin and then shakes his head, "He is within rights to redress matters. I am now a kinslayer. I am also the God of War and there is little he can do to change that beyond taking my life as well."     He looks to the side, "But with matters as they are now for Olympus... he would not so weaken the Pantheon so visibly. And so I will most likely be ostracized on some level. Perhaps 'exiled', which would be amusing for several reasons."     Frowning, Ares looks back to her and then says levelly, "However, he is also within his rights to seek a successor as the God of Fear has passed. I worry he may turn to Alexander."
Lois Lane	"Yes, that would be ironic, wouldn't it." Lois Lane agrees when he mentions the possibility of being 'exiled'. Especially after the 'self-imposed' exile he just completed. And while Ares mentions Zeus and the Pantheon, Lois' expression stays relatively flat. The extraordinary becoming a tinge more acceptable and mundane to her mind, simply from their conversation at hand. "I can see why you're worried." Says the reporter, her own expression holding some degree of concern as well. She may not know Ares or his son in any true way, but a child shouldn't be given the responsibilities of a god. Especially with the title of 'God of Fear'. "He couldn't refuse?" She'll ask, even as she continues with, "Or put the mantle down like you did? Or is it something more; you worry if he obtains the mantle he might not see reason with it? Be overwhelmed by it - because of his age?" Guesses again on Lois' part, but hopefully good ones.
Ares	A grimace marks his features, "The last child of a god to be granted abilities beyond their ken turned out ultimately..." He pauses before uttering a compliment about Hercules, so instead he says, "Not entirely horrible. But while he was growing up, his arrogance, his temper tantrums. They were horrible to behold. Alexander is a good child, but he is still a child. I would fear for what would pass."     "It is not something he could refuse, and for him to turn away... it takes a great effort of will and no small danger to remove that part from yourself. Even when I felt myself no longer a part of the Pantheon, there is still a... presence that you feel. A connection, and my abilities while lessened were still formidable."     Shaking his head then he looks up and perhaps realizes where he is... who he is with, and his brow knits. "But there, Ms. Lane. You have caught up on my life, such as it is."
Lois Lane	Consideration is written all over Lois' features as she listens to the rest of what Ares' has to say. It's enough to cause the woman to say in all seriousness, "If Alexander were my child I'd feel the same worry you do and I would do everything within my power to make sure he stayed a child." Versus a god. That last statement of his earns a faintly crooked smile from Lois again, even as she finally shifts her gaze away from the man and to the other diners around them. She'll scan the area around them, making little observations with that quick sweep of her eyes, but it's clear to her that no one really picked up on their conversation. Which is likely a good thing in the end. When her gaze returns to the man across the table from her, she'll murmur, "Such as it is." A shake of her head now, "I wouldn't call what you have normal, Mr. Aaron." A slight emphasis on his more mortal name there. "What will be your next steps?" She asks, her words sounding as normal as a friend asking what plans they have scheduled for tomorrow.
Ares	"At this point?" John pushes a rough and calloused hand over his short stubbly hair, frowning as he looks across the room and the inattentive humanity that surrounds them. He looks back and says, "I intend to live my life as I can. To go see Alexander's play at the Camp of Summer, then bring him home. I will have to explain much to him, though I feel he knows some of it already."     That said he leans over and almost formally takes another piece of his sandwich, just a bite's worth and tosses it in his mouth. After he swallows he looks back to her, "But are you satisfied? Have I discharged my debt to you for your conditional silence?"
Lois Lane	The nonchalance about parenting and summer camp earns another faint head shake from Lois Lane. Tomorrow this conversation will seem much more sane. Or perhaps less fantastical? Whatever the case may be, it'll just seem less. "You have." Comes her answer to his last two questions, "Thank you for telling me your story." She'll add at the end of that, even as she catches the waitress' eyes for the check. She could probably say something about not speaking with other news agencies, but she doesn't. Likely other agencies wouldn't touch this particular story quite so eagerly as The Planet. And while their food is barely touched, she'll also offer, "When you're done eating is there any place I can drop you off at?" After all, she has a car. She's quite unsure about him.
Ares	"I can find my own path, Ms. Lane." His smile is given to her and with all her reporter's senses trained on him, she can at the least detect the sincerity in that smile. A nod is given then he rises from his chair. "Until another time."     With that having been said he steps away from the table, slipping around the edge of it and moving towards the door through the crowd. It only takes a few moments, for on some instinctual level people tend to slip out of the way of the tall man. Then the bell on the door jangles and he is outside. A few more moments later and he's in the crowd and gone.