Come Into My Parlor (Tag: Enyo)
Ares didn't actually need a reason to stay away from Olympus. If someone couldn't figure out why he'd prefer a blood-soaked battlefield or a treacherous sandbox to a bright, shining pedestal on which Zeus could plant his smug, obnoxious ass, well, it wasn't like Ares was going to explain himself. The pieces weren't too difficult to put together. Unless the Underworld decided to rise up and storm Olympus, the glorious mountain just wasn't as fun as Ares preferred. He hadn't been back in a while. Years, possibly longer. It was hard to tell. Time was such a dull thing to keep track of.
It wasn't like Ares was difficult to track down if he was truly needed. One need only follow the blood trails and the turmoil.
Even so, there were a few reasons Olympus could make it onto his list of destinations. Ares didn't need to check in on anyone, he wasn't too painfully concerned with the pedestrian affairs of his fellow Olympians. But since he was already there, dropping in on a few individuals seemed like a reasonable opportunity to pass some time. If all went well, he'd stir up some trouble and smirk all the way back to the Middle East.
Enyo was his first stop, though there was no particular reason for that. It was just where his feet led him. Her attendants hated it whenever he showed up, and that added a bit of appeal to the whole idea. Without knocking, Ares entered his sister's temple, tracking in blood and sand with every step. "Where is she?" he asked. To a lowly attendant, it would sound like a growl. That always amused Ares. The girl winced and her lips parted, but Ares didn't wait for her reply. "I'll find her myself. Rest assured, she will be hearing about this."
Once he stepped past the girl, Ares smirked. She was likely pissing herself as he walked by. Ah, the simple pleasures in life.
The first stop Ares made was Enyo's private bath. When he saw she wasn't there, he approached her doll sanctuary instead. Once again forgetting the pleasantry of a knock, Ares pushed the door open, arching an eyebrow immediately as all the lace and pristine finery assaulted his eyes. His sister was in the middle of it all, darkness smothered on all sides by a creepy marshmallow of lightness. This room never made any sense to him.
"A baseball bat would do wonders for this room. I could grab one, if you'd like," he said cheerfully, leaning in the doorway with practiced nonchalance. Limiting his exposure to The Dolls was always for the best. Besides, Ares had the decency to shake the sand out of his hair outside of her little doll palace. He was a good brother like that.