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Oh No! Angst!

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Percy strolled through the underworld casually, almost as though he hadn’t been violently rejected by the majority of his friends and family less than two weeks ago. His new all-black wardrobe looked absolutely amazing on him(if he said so himself). Who knew that hiding out with Hades and Nico in the underworld would lead to a new appreciation of the emo things in life?

Anywho, Percy was planning his exciting, awesome revenge and brooding about his now-hated former loved ones when he casually, completely by chance, 100% accidentally fell into Tartarus. Or was pushed. Who knows? Definitely not the author, who is in complete and total control of the story and is just needlessly baiting the readers into screaming at me.

... ok it was Percy’s evil lookalike who stole all his friends and got him punished by the gods because of plot conveniences and the like despite the fact that that would never actually occur.

“Damn you Darren!” Percy screamed as he fell down into Tartarus. As he fell, Percy began to tthink of ways to kill Darren, which though wildly out of character for Percy is somewhat understandable in this situation.

After falling for a while, Percy got bored and fell asleep, dreaming about his plans to kill Darren, which grew more and more graphic by the minute. The one he had decided on for now was an elaborate plot involving waiting for Darren to grow a mustache and then choking him with it.

Wow, the reader may wonder, when did Percy get like this? The writer would like to inform you that in the two weeks that Percy had been banished, he managed to consume every form of emo media available in a giant binge. He went through all of Homestuck, bought all of MCR’s albums, and has wrote six fan fictions for creepypasta. He also purchased a new wardrobe consisting of all-black emo and punk clothing, dyed his hair, and his shoe selection now consists of only vans, combat boots, and converse All-Stars. He is the most emo-est emo teenager ever, and of course the perfect matchup for the potential self-insert angst teenage love interest coming up in later chapters(!). Or maybe I’ll just plop him together with Nico.

Percy miraculously managed to survive the fall into Tartarus, which would kill him normally. Thankfully his fall was broken by a river of fire, and although he definitely should have ended up horribly burnt, he came away from the potential deadly encounter with only some mild, well-placed scars on his arms and legs. His hair, of course, was perfect as always with no visible signs of damage.

In a strange twist of fate, the majority of Percy’s shirt and pants burned off, exposing the seventeen-year-old’s strangely rock hard abs and delicious(? Ew) thighs. And collarbones sharp enough to cut rock. His cheekbones were as ummm lovely as ever, and in the two weeks he stayed in the underworld he managed to completely lose the tan he had for his entire life and became pale as death, a look that totally suited him. Why? Because I said so. His eyes, once a beautiful sea green were now pitch black and held only sadness and hatred when they once sparkled with life. Oh no. What tragedies have befallen this tragic hero. Or.... as he now is, an anti-hero!!!

Of course, Percy managed to keep his sword on him despite the majority of his clothing burning off, which is yet another convenient twist of fate. Of course, Percy’s sword is no longer Riptide. Darren the evil lookalike/twin took that from him. Naturally.

Percy’s new sword, forged in the hottest hellfire in the underworld and made out of Stygian iron(6lb, pure) mixed with monster blood(2 cups,whisked well), murderers’ bones(3 tablespoons, powdered), two sticks from a cursed tree( 2 inches), and the souls of the damned( 5 souls, puréed) was much, much stronger than Riptide and also way cooler. Totally.

“Oh no!” Percy exclaimed as he surveyed the fiery landscape of Tartarus, “I’ve fallen into Tartarus after my family and friends abandoned me and I lost all will to live and became a scene kid! What a tragic, horrible tragedy! Whatever shall I do?” As he gazed across the desolate landscape, Percy saw a figure in the distance. It was a hellhound, bounding straight towards him. Percy hid behind a conveniently placed rock formation, praying that the hellhound wouldn’t see him. His hopes, of course, were in vain because it only did hellhounds have a keen sense of smell, but Percy smelled strongly of burnt clothes and Demi-godliness. You’d think that Percy would get that monsters can smell him by now but apparently he just keeps forgetting.

The hellhound sniffed its way over to Percy, and although it was a literal monster at the bottom of a put full of monsters it didn’t even try to kill him, but instead only licked him and rolled over onto its back and begged for belly rubs, obviously completely domesticated.

“Wow!” Percy cried with glee “ Out of all the hell-hounds in this gods-forsaken place, I’ve managed to run into Mrs. O’Leary! How wonderfully convenient!” However, he realized something and in a split second his eyes filled with sadness. “Poor girl... I guess this means that they killed you at camp then. I’m going to get my revenge on that Darren guy for what he’s done to us, mark my words!”

Mrs. O’Leary had in fact died in a tragic accident, in which she thought the campers were playing fetch with her when they were actually in the middle of practicing their knife throwing. Mrs. O’Leary still has no idea what happened and could not correct Percy even if she did, as she could not understand what he was saying, being a dog.

And so, Percy climbed onto Mrs. O’Leary’s back and rode off into Tartarus with no destination in mind except revenge and no objective except to escape.

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