Ares had done his good deed for the century, maybe even for the next few centuries and now he was ready to have some fun and fight his uncle. The fact that on November first Hades would be even stronger didn't bother him, the adrenaline and testosterone still pumped through his veins. When he got into his car he got out his phone. Ready for some fun? Did you pick a nice battlefield? He grinned as he waited for the text telling him where the fight would take place, this would be a great ending to the day.
Hades had left his home after tucking in his sons and kissing Hestia goodbye. He had promised her would come back in one piece. More importantly it felt strangely good to kiss her goodbye before going off to battle, fun or not. However, Hades did not linger on that fact. Instead he now roamed the Carmichael ranch, choosing a battlefield. Part of him felt bad about blatantly adding layer after layer of strength to himself but he quickly reminded himself as he leaned against a staff of carved poplar wood that he was not the god of fair combat. He was actually pretty sure they didn't have one of them. Taking out his phone, he looked up to the night sky with a wicked smirk, Yes. You have a field about a ten minute walk from the last of your stables. It's clear of most obstructions. Sounds like a good place to bleed and struggle on.
The battlefield near his own home was useful, Ares knew the land was not full of the power of War like some other parts of the world but after he won it would be nice to have a bath near. He was sure he would win, he always was sure he would win. I am on my way. Was the simple text he sent in return, he then sent a text to Amanda telling her to prepare the bathroom for later that day and that he would teach her how to bathe him after battle.
He made it back to his ranch quicker then usual, that was the great thing about driving when other's were still sleeping.
Hades leaned along the staff, idly staring up to the sky as he waited. His blade of darkness was secured to his back with a simple and loose leather strap. The rest of his clothing was simple as well. Black loose pants and a plain matching t-shirt. It was not much of battle wear but beneath it was a silk tank top and either of his hands were adorned with platinum and diamond thumb rings. Really, if you are going to be filled with power, no reason to leave any stone unturned. Hades carefully put aside the phone and tucked it into his shoes so it would neither be lost nor broken in the fight and continued with his star gazing barefoot. In the distance, he could hear Ares' car approaching. This would be fun.
The moment Ares parked he jumped out of the car, ran up the stairs stripping on the way. He threw the clothes he had been wearing all night on his bed. He put on some black training pants, nothing more. This was not the old days when he would just wear his weapons and helmet into battle. He didn't like being restricted in his movements by tight clothes besides he didn't mind if those training pants got destroyed.
On his way out to the field his uncle was at he grabbed his trusted spear, the only thing left from his divine armour. There was enough blood-lust and war in this modern world to help him to stay stronger then a mere mortal and stronger then most gods, but this was not just any god he was going to fight. This was Hades and even though this was just for fun he knew that winning from his uncle would not be easy, he did know it would be very enjoyable though.
"Hello, Khalkeos." Hades addressed the younger god softly, lowering his eyes from the dark sky, and bringing them to that younger god. He wouldn't be caught off-guard. His thoughts left behind the fresh memories of the execution of Brian, and even the almost foolish thoughts about how much he liked these rings. They felt fitting to wear as they reminded him of his old gauntlets with their diamond spikes. Sure, they did not have their diamonds made into spikes, but along his divine skin it felt similar. But now his thoughts focused on Ares, "[Pants this time. Well, last time we were inside and I had just woken you from bed.]"
Ares grinned, he remembered the last time the had a nice fight. ["When they start to be restricting they will be gone."] He bowed his head respectfully to Hades for a moment. ["Are you ready, Theos Khthonios"], he stepped closer to his uncle as he spoke his only weapon, the spear, loosely in his hands.
"[And when being visible becomes too restricting to me, I will be gone from sight.]" Being seen was the only discomfort he found himself in at the start of all this, and perhaps the exact opposite problem Ares was having. Hades felt more comfortable with more clothing and weight on for battle; part of him missed the weight of his breastplate along his shoulders. Carefully, he pulled the blade of darkness so he was wooden stave in one hand and blade in the other -- the blade, however, was held backwards for safety sake. The once king of the Underworld was ready. "[Bring it.]"
Ares loved to be seen, he was probably one of the first exhibitionists in history. He knew how good he looked while fighting and he liked the feel of the blood of foes and the dirt of the battlefield on him. It was very likely that the pants would not be on at the end of all this. He moved his spear from one hand to the other as he started to move around his uncle, never taking his eyes of the older god.
There was never a chance that Hades would like to be regularly seen. His mother had decided that when she named him "Veiled" or "Unseen", depending on translation. Never had a chance. But this was, cloaked in night with the ground beneath him, it brought about a wicked, vicious grin. The younger god was circling? He would circle as well. Cautious foes were a novelty to him, but he doubted that would last long. He struck at the spear with his staff, keeping his blade ready to exploit an opening.
Ares was not usually cautious, but he was also not stupid. He would not wait much longer before throwing himself into the fight head first, courage was one of his domains and attacking Hades was courage with a capital C. He didn't move right after Hades struck his spear though, that would have been too predictable, he waited just a few more moments before quickly moving toward his uncle with his empty hand balled into a fist aiming for the other god's jaw.
Thought bled away from Hades as he felt first the short breeze created by the punch, feeling that even before seeing Ares’ move his fist. The Dark One’s hands may have been filled with weapons, but thousands of years of practice made them extensions of his limbs. The back of the blade of darkness crashed into Ares’ wrist to parry the strike away.
Even though he was not a war god, Hades had been a wartime king and the thrill of battle reflected in his coal black eyes. Perhaps it was being so close to Ares… Or maybe it was the need to release pent of aggression that had mounted from the evening earlier… From weeks earlier that had been masked by temporary joys. Either way, Hades realized that with the blow parried and the spear caught with the staff they were both open for a blow and he did not wish to be kicked.
Thus, he struck forward, to try to land a headbutt.
Ares had started the kicking motion already which did make him even more vulnerable to the headbutt, but he was not going to stand there on one leg though. He started to move out of the way moving his foot back to the ground. He could not completely move out of the way though, but luckily he had seen Hades' move in time to at least evade a little. He didn't completely loose his balance but he had not been able to get a blow in either. He grinned, it was good to have a worthy opponent.
He moved his spear to his other hand moving his now free had to make a grab for the other god's staff.
Hades made no move to defend the staff. Instead, he completely allowed Ares to grab it. But once the other’s hand was there, Hades slammed the back of his blade right across the knuckles, not only striking it but pinning it between wood and metal. With a side step, he turned the arm in some attempt to bring Ares off balance.
Ares should have known that the actually grabbing the staff was some sort of trap, the moment he felt his uncle take the side step he grinned. ["It won't be that easy."] He could feel the strength in Hades, strength he had always admired, strength that made this much more enjoyable then killing a breakable mortal. He tried to move as quick as he could with the other god trying to use the momentum to turn this in his own favour and push Hades off balance instead.
An old fashioned roundabout? Well, perhaps new fashioned considering the ages of the two gods involved in the struggle. It generally worked much better when being held, however. Hades released Ares with a shove and the momentum did take him a little off balance but he was quick to dig his bare toes and heels in the soil beneath them. He watched Ares in perfect clarity in the darkness – would the younger god have the same amount of control given the momentum?
The power Ares tried to use was now used against him and it send him backwards faster then he had hoped. He fell but he caught himself on his strong arms ending up on hands and feet. For a moment he sat there just watching Hades, but not for long, as soon as he had locked his eyes on his uncle's face he pushed himself off the ground and aimed for the knees of his opponent. He knew he had to try to get the other god off balance to get the upper hand.
Hades was very poor at defending himself against lower attacks. Almost the entirety of his practice had him in the lower position so it was not hard for Ares to strike at the elder gods’ knees. The trick was, Hades was in motion. Staff and blade had come together in his hands and he was dropping to his knees to bring them down against Ares’ shoulder. Ares’ hands certainly took him off target though…
The weapons against his shoulder was something Ares had not really expected, but the pain was not something he minded too much. He didn't dislike pain like most did, pain was something that made him fight harder and in an other setting pain could even turn him on. He tried to get up on his feet again while moving his hands up from Hades' knees to his arms. He knew he had to not just get his uncle off balance but also disarm him.
Hades had other plans. He wanted Ares on the ground, but he could see what the other wanted as well. His judging instincts were on high alert; they had carried him through many a battle before and this was not much different except Ares wasn’t as large and a loss didn’t possibly mean doom for all he loved. He wanted him disarmed? Hades feigned losing grip of the staff; he let it go in the motion. It would be unruly to use in a second anyhow.
Then, as Ares was rising, Hades rose as well, only to step one leg behind the other’s knee. Once locked, he pushed forwarded and tried to drop his weight to the ground. For once, gravity’s insistence on dragging him down to the ground faster than the laws of physics should allow and thus, increasing his seeming weight in the fall, might be of some use.
Usually Ares was good at knowing what an 'enemy' was thinking and planning but being on such a blood-lust high after the kill earlier that night his judgement was a little bit off. Instead of keeping an eye on Hades he looked at the staff and tried to grab it, that was a mistake because he was pulled down as the other god wanted. The moment he started to fall he let go of the staff again and started to move away from his uncle. As he moved he realized that his pants got caught on something, the tearing sound seemed very loud. He growled, he knew he should have gone into this fight naked.
Perhaps if Ares had been naked, Hades would have had a second thought about his next action. But then again, he was Greek, so maybe not. Seeing Ares fall, Hades lunged at the younger god and straddled his hips to pin him there. Ares’ bloodlust was feeding into the Dark One a bit or maybe it was just Hades finally being unrestrained with all the power currently radiating from him, but even though he was in the position to rain down fists upon Ares, he didn’t. Instead, he gripped his blade harder and tried to bring that down against the other’s skull. At least it was still the blunt side.
Ares tried to push up his hips to buck Hades off, naked or not, this was a fight first and even though fighting and blood-lust were like an aphrodisiac to the God of War that did not mean that he was distracted by where the other God was pinning him down. He used all his muscles in his back and legs to force his hips up to be able to throw off his uncle and use the same movement to get back on his feet. Being down on his back with a blade against his skull was not where he wanted to be, even if it was still the blunt side.
Hades was not ready to the force of the motion, he had been too focused on trying to crack open Ares’ skull instead. But when he felt his knees lift from the ground, he tried to push himself higher in the air. He came down hard to the ground once again, but he came down in a roll. Hades turned quickly in his crouch to look to the other god again.
Ares moved up onto his feet as quickly as he could, he wasn't going to stop there though. The best defence was a good offence and he was going to make sure that he would not give Hades the chance to think too much about what to do next. As soon as he was on his feet he moved with a war cry toward the crouched god, aiming with his entire body for the other god's head.
There was no time to think. The war cry blocked such thoughts and gave Hades only the vicious clarity of the moment. Ares was coming right at him... all his weight and strength prepared to steamroll over or through him. No time to move and no time to shift. Only time to defend. Instinct moved him, and he may have dropped the staff but his blade was still firmly in his grasp. Lifting it beside his ear and holding it in both hands, he readied for the charge. The dark metal blade would pierce right under the ribcage... It made him smirk.
Because Ares had put all his strength behind this move made it impossible for him to move away from the blade. The pain of a weapon like that entering ones body under the ribcage would be enough for many to faint right on the spot, but not Ares. Sure, it hurt like Hell... or Tartarus in this case, but that was not going to get the God of War down just yet. With a loud growl he grabbed at the blade trying to take it with him while he started to turn away from his uncle. He felt his own blood covering his hands on the blade which made his resolve to disarm Hades even bigger.
Two sets of instincts laid beneath Hades's skin. A merciful one where he pulled out the blade and both returned to standing as Ares turned to try to disarm him; he did not wish to lose such a dangerous weapon in this sort of fight. But a more wicked instinct also existed and screamed to let Ares have it, let him turn and then pull at his feet and ram his shoulder in the back of his knees to crash him back into the ground and possibly drive it deeper. There was only a moment to choose and with the night over head and the rich ground beneath him, the festival of the dead almost like a cloak around his shoulders, Hades lost himself to deeper, baser instincts and let go of the blade. With all his strength, he pulled at the younger god's ankles and brought his shoulders as hard as he could into the back of his knees to knock him down right to his face. Hades, at his heart, was not one who had compassion or moderation.
With a not very graceful 'oooffff' Ares landed on his face, this was the first time that he started to think about the date and of the consequences. He had know that Hades would be stronger today but his ego had not let that detail bother him. He was sure he could win from the older god like he had earlier. His brain went a mile a minute to find a way to get out of this position, there was probably nobody who would be able to pin him down like this but his uncle and he should have realized that. The earlier killing of the mortal had made him feel even more cocky then usual, he had let his guard down but he would not make that mistake again.
The pain was something he pushed away as he concentrated on getting on his hands and knees, he would need all the strength he had but it would be worth it, he had to get back up onto his feet if he wanted to win.
As Ares tried to push up to his hands and knees, Hades rushed forward, his hands finally free and all his speed focused on pinning the younger god again. He leapt forward, his only care was not catching himself on the sharp blade that peeked out the other side of the god coated in ichor. He brought all his weight down against the small of Ares' back, trying to drive him back into the ground in a brutal fury, his hands gripping Ares' shoulders far too tightly in the same desire.
Ares howled partly in pain and partly in blood-lust. This was not really what he had planned on happening, but the loss of the ichor and the weight of Hades made it hard to get onto his hands and knees. Instead he decided to try to roll over this time, he thought that once he could roll onto his back he would be able to buck up like he had done earlier in the fight.
Feeling the movement beneath him, Hades tried to dig his toes and his knees into the ground to lock Ares into place. Ares was dangerous on his back. Everyone was dangerous on their back, but on their stomach, they at best were turtles. It was a scene he had acted out many a time in his life. Bring down the taller man, get him prone and then beat him into submission... or unconsciousness. It was usually the latter and he doubted it would be anything different now. Bringing down an axe-handle blow to the middle of Ares' broad shoulders, he tried to drop him again and this time keep him there pinned between god and ground with the blade inside his body. Then he would begin to punch. The back of Ares' skull might as well have had a bulls eye on it. Perhaps Hades should have helped more with the actual killing of Brian. His pent up aggression was reaching a boiling point as he stared down at his nephew with no mercy or sympathy. Not as long as the battle raged.
Ares had tried hard, but he was not ready to give up just yet. He knew that he was getting to the end of his powers but he was going to give it one last try. He tried to move one of his hands up toward Hades' ankles. He felt that if it was not going to work this time he would not have the strength to do it again. He concentrated and used the last bit of his strength but he felt that even though he reached his uncle's ankle he had no more strength to pull.
Ares was at the end of his strength, but Hades was still in a rush of his own. His rapid breathing was misleading in that regard. And the touch to his ankle set off sirens in his mind. It was now, or he would lose his chance. Seemingly without any concern for Ares' safety, Hades began punching him as hard as he could in the back of the scull. He would stop if he went too far... He would stop if he was removed or unconsciousness. Or maybe a submission, but even in the thrill and haze of battle, the Dark One knew he would punch Ares to death before he got a submission.
Ares would never submit, he was just not that kind of god. The punching did stop his movements though, the pain combined with the loss of ichor and the position he was in made moving almost impossible. He didn't give up yet though, in one last effort he tried to get on his hands and knees, he growled but he could not get up through the punches raining down on the back of his scull. Death might come before submission if it was up to Ares, whatever happened he was not going to give in.
Hades would also stop at the brink of death. If Ares started to glow because his soul was beginning to leave him, then the punching would stop. Hades merely wished that he either had his gauntlets of old, or that Ares' skull was less hard. His knuckles were going to be sore for days from doing this.
It was clear that Ares could not win from Hades this time, his head might be hard but not that hard. He felt that he started to drift into unconsciousness, but before he was completely knocked out he promised himself that he would challenge his uncle to a rematch really soon.
And Hades probably punched him a few times more than he needed to before he realized Ares was struggling no longer. He paused, caught his breath and regained the rational section of his brain, but never dropped his guard. It could be possum after all. Carefully, he moved off the younger god and rolled him over to pull back the blade. At no gasp and not even a sound at that, Hades knew this was not possum. It was over. Victory was his this night...
After a minute's rest on the cool ground, he knelt down beside his nephew and fed a little bit of power into him. Enough to wake him up and hopefully stop the blood flow.
Ares felt the power and opened his eyes, as he looked up into his uncle's face he grinned. "That was a good fight." With any other he might not have been such a good loser, because basically he wasn't a very good loser. The pain still soared through his body but it also made him feel alive, made him feel like the warrior god he was. He tried if he could sit up, with the power Hades had fed him he could manage a slow movement, this fight would keep him aching for a few more days at least.
Hades rubbed his knuckles as he watched his nephew in his attempts. They would be sore just as long as he would be cleaning his nice thumb rings. But surprisingly, along with the pride gained from defeating a god of battle in a fight, there was a sense of peace that settled inside of him. Definitely not the happiness that had dwelt in him before Helen had been kidnapped, but peace that things had been settled. All the aggression had been released. "It was. I liked the outcome."
As Ares sat up he rubbed the back of his head, "The outcome is not one I would have chosen, but I can live with it." And strangely enough he could live with it, but just because this was Hades. "I think that one day soon I want a rematch." He looked at the ichor on his destroyed pants, even his own blood brought an evil grin to his face. Blood-lust was still in his system, but then again it usually was. He looked up at his uncle, "Next time it won't be this easy."
"You can't say I didn't warn you, Khalkeos." Hades stood and began to dust himself off. He was covered in dirt and ichor. Hestia was going to be very unpleased at this. He quickly decided he would swing by his office first and get cleaned up.
Slowly Ares got to his feet and removed the dirty ripped pants, leaving him naked and dirty. "I can't say that and I won't." He pushed the cleanest part of the pants against the wound. He knew that at the ranch Amanda would be waiting to be taught how to clean the God of War after battle.
The thought that perhaps Ares truly did belong to Aphrodite crossed Hades’ mind when the pants were ripped away and it made him shake his head. Ares certainly did love to be naked. In contrast, he ran his hands over his mostly intact clothing, pleased that the silk shirt beneath it was not overly ruined. Without another moment’s hesitation, he summoned his helm and disappeared from sight, but he was still there. “[I assume you can get to your ranch house on your own without escort.]”
["I can."] Ares' power might not be what it used to be, but with the power Hades had given him he could already feel his own return. He moved toward his spear and the moment he picked it up he could feel the way it attracted the power of Blood-lust, War, Courage and his many other domains. He would not heal in a few minutes like he could in ancient times but he would heal in a few days with the help of the many conflicts going on in the world. ["It will be good to be outside for a bit."] With his spear in his hand he would try to draw power toward him while he walked to the ranch letting the night air touch his skin.
“[Very well, Nephew Khalkeos. Take care.]” Hades spoke like he was going to leave immediately, but he felt like lingering at the site of his victory just a little longer. His shoes tucked away at the far edge of the field and the poplar staff just strewn where it had fallen were the giveaways he was still there. Besides, on such a clear night, he could see to the horizon much like a normal person could see at high noon. He could just make out the ranch house that Ares would walk to and saw little reason not to make sure he got to the door. Not like Ares would know where his dark eyes watched.
Ares nodded into the general direction he assumed his uncle to be standing, ["Good night, Theos Khthonios."] He then turned completely and started to move toward the ranch and a well deserved bath. Amanda might not be Hebe but he was sure he would have a very satisfying bath, the kind of bath that would make this night feel almost like ancient times.
Summary: Ares and Hades need to get rid of some left over adrenaline, testosterone and rage. So what do they do? The try to beat each other to a bloody pulp, read to see who the winner was.