`helpful. truly helpful,`
he sizes up ares (literally) and decides, as far as father’s go… he’s probably got a little work to do. phobos and deimos were STRANGERS to him. they existed in terrifying tales, and myths that passed before he even existed. after that much time, you’d think ares would know…
ah well. he can’t judge. with all of his own knowledge, he should be able to decide the freaking decor on his own–and yet, here he is. confused. and a little irate. especially at the all leaders are war-mongerers.
`–not all of them,` he interrupts, without thinking. `most of them have stirred something nasty up, i’ll own up to that. but many others have opposed this decision. it just… depends on your definition of LEADER. right?` stand your ground, jason. the point was, unfortunately, quite personal to him. especially with their father being the king, the LEADER of the pantheon. `is a leader the one who calls the shots, or the one who is respected and followed? they’re not the same kind of person. and the real leaders… they don’t order wars that’ll hurt their people. they just… don’t.` no nation without war… damn. no good men surface without war, either, it seems. there always has to be SOMETHING to define the lines.
“Glad to be of fuckin’ service,” he says with a snort. “Look—me ‘n m'boys, we don’t really give a rat’s ass about…” He waves his hand in a vague gesture as to encompass… the whole damn camp, honestly, and all the pomp and circumstance that went into state-sanctioned worship. “... aesthetics ‘n shit. Just look at my kids’ cabins in Camp Half-Blood---we ain’t picky.”
As long as no one got the idea to wrap chains around the idols, they would all get along like a house on fire. It had happened before, the chains. Hated and distrusted for his nature, but desired for his strength---it made a twisted sort of sense to try and control him that way. Mars could deal with it better than Ares could, but Mars was little more than a soft echo now, a whisper in the brazen god’s ear.
“Lotta wars’ just an excuse for rich men to get more of what they already have: land, money, resources. They send poor boys to fight and die for ‘em, sellin’ ‘em pretty lies of how they’re fightin’ for god ‘n country, but it’s all a bunch of horse shit.” See, he’s talking about statesmen, mostly. About leaders of nations. People so removed from the average citizen---and non-citizen---that they might as well be ants.
There were popular leaders and leaders who---popular and unpopular alike---had the law at their back, supporting their claim. Civil law or martial didn’t matter much, not ‘less you concerned yourself with the difference. Ares sure as hell didn’t.
“The people will rise up to defend themselves---that’s human nature. And even that kinda war isn’t without a price. Soldiers die, bodies and minds break. Right or wrong, good or bad, righteous or not. War is war.”
areudirty
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
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