Wavy shoulder length raven hair. Tall and muscular body frame with tanned skin. Dark blue eyes under grim brows and a proud masculine jaw now lined with thick black beard. Wears a gray toga with a broad maroon stripe on its border.
Casted down to live in the Underworld with Persephone by order of the Thundergod, Zeus; Ares have lost all contact with the world above since the moment he was punished and forced to take an Oath. Thus, he became the new Ruler's personal bodyguard or some might've called him the Queen's slave even. But most would've definitely gotten used to calling him a dog.
Cornered and leashed under the endless ceiling of night, the God of War was starting to lose himself. He'd spent most of the time standing by the balcony and have been staring either over the distant horizon or at the gloomy clouds above, cursing at the King of Gods. The pillars there have been on the recieving end of his rage although the impact have suddenly been getting softer and softer as of late. Something seemed to change, something rare but had happened once before.
Ares soon realized that no matter how much he'd retaliated, struggled and even roared in demand for freedom; there was simply no way for him to gain them. It was just like how hopeless he'd felt before he began to humble himself as a captive then, trapped in that bronze urn and chained after some persisted screamings and howlings. So he suppressed everything within himself, hiding nothing from his companions.
Standing tall while wearing a stolid expression and with a quiet attitude, Ares faced a day after another seemingly as dead as most residents, empty and without a soul or spirit. Utterly brokened. Defeated. Simply a wandering vessel on the Queen's courtyard.