Ares had just received the fresh beer from the blond, deciding that tonight he'd take her and see if she was anything at all like his long lost lover, when someone came up to him and started talking. Babbling, really. He was hard to hear over the music and the crowd, but Ares was used to listening to his warband over the voice of Battle Din, so it wasn't impossible for the god. Merely taxing. Particularly since he had half a mind to throw this scrawny, disheveled, smelly thing out. Honestly. Who went clubbing in a beater with greasy hair?
And that was when it hit him, when the words sank in. Mentioning Eros clenched it. He remembered well who his son's preferred carousing companions were, back in the day. Or maybe it was the distinctly goat-like musky scent emanating from this man poking at him with the remains of an egg roll.
He motioned the blond back, noticing that her tits did indeed seem to be real. "Another beer." Simple, direct. Better not to try and use too many words on the humans, especially the women. Dismissing her to follow his order, he raised an eyebrow at his nephew. "And have you seen my son lately?" he asked, his voice barely audible of the growling music and the roar as one of the fighters stepped into the cage.