Ares was not so caught up in his thoughts at the mention of Bryte's name, that he didn't notice the change in the blond as he removed his hand.
He didn't particularly want to give these humans the name he currently used. The persona was quite public in many ways, and he didn't necessarily want them hitting him up for donations or, worse, attempts at conversion. The current face was still convenient, and he wasn't at all ready to make the change to a new one. He'd only been a decade or so in this one, and he didn't have any good candidates lined up to change to. Still, the blond intrigued him. He wanted to know who he'd been. Ares couldn't care less about who he was now, but who he'd been... that could be important. Especially if he had run into others.
Ares did believe in Fate.
Very much so.
There was a reason all these familiar souls, god and mortal, were being drawn together, and the Fates certainly had something to do with it.
"Tony DeLuca," he finally said, finishing off his beer and setting the empty glass down on the table. "And perhaps I was. I may not fear your god, friend Bryte, but I do have a healthy respect for Fate. You said you felt drawn to someone, some homeless man, like you knew him. Did you speak to him like you did to me? Did he recognize you, too?"