The gods are attempting to get up to date on their gods. With all of these new groups of people... these social medias and... this thing they call highschool? They soon realize that some new gods will have to be appointed. Who will they be? What group will they stand for? What's wrong with everybody?!

Yeah, I got this idea. So far, I think it's hilarious, but I'll leave the final verdict up to you. Anyway, go ahead and read!

p.s: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. In case you didn't know.

"Rage. Was there ever a time without such a title? When it was an undefinable and abstract thought like others of today. When a person was driven to the brink of madness, coated with dark thoughts and a roar on their lips, challenging anyone to stop them and just feel."

Poseidon raised an eyebrow at the boy before him, sharing a look with Zeus.

"Maybe that is why it was defined. Made different from lesser words like fury or turmoil."

Zeus looked back, almost a mirror to his brother. The boy who stood before the council was still steaming, wisps of smoke trailing off his red body.

"Rage is the purest form of anger, Surpassing fury, hate, and fear. I thought I knew rage."

The boy began to pace around, his face still unrecognizable, though all gods present were hesitant to find out what they'd done.

"When I went to school, I learned the definition. I thought it was rage I felt when my stepfather spoke to my mom like he did."

The mother present put her hand up to her mouth, fear and shock in her eyes.

"I thought it was rage I felt when I nearly lost her in the underworld."

What had her son become?"

"I thought I knew it. Passed it into my everyday vocabulary, and so childishly misused it, believing that I knew."

He stopped in front of Ares's throne, staring at the God of war. He was smoking less, but still the ghosts of flame danced on his shoulders.

"I had never known Rage for what it truly was. Never considered that I didn't."

He was gaining solidarity, skin wrapping around the pure light.

" I think of the old days, the time before rage as my time of bliss. When all was right with the world."

Ares watched the figure with a mix of awe and horror, leaning back into his throne as though trying to get far away from him.

"I 'played hero' with my friends," The boy's head turned to stare accusingly at Apollo, causing the sun god to raise his eyebrows, "running errands for the gods and 'training' with Chiron. Always escaping to my Mother when I couldn't handle it anymore."

Poseidon looked to the mother, worry now in both their eyes.

"I grew up thinking my life was unfair, that I had the raw end of the bargain. Because inconsequential problems with school, the new Greek world, and being the son of Poseidon were new to me."

He began pacing again, his hands clasped behind his back and head held tall as the skin finished wrapping itself around him, growing and melding around his form.

"I was coddled, undisciplined, impulsive… But happy."

The mother went to go toward her son, but a satyr's strong arms held her back.

"Those memories are a long distant past now."

He slashed through the air with his hand, a wave of black following in his wake like a ripple.

"Now, all I feel is rage."

"Boy… what are you…" The wine god started, but was cut off by a look in his direction.

"If this me were to meet my past self, I'd be labeled a monster. A bloodthirsty creature of lore, incapable of higher thinking and mercy. Someone that lives to see others die. A plague on the world."

"Now, I don't think you quite understand…" He tried to say, but was once again cut off as the boy began stalking toward the coke drinking god.

"Percy Jackson wouldn't understand. I know that." He said, not breaking stride as he grabbed hold of the god's coller, going face to face with the ancient man.

"The boy filled with such hope and loyalty, giving up everything for the sake of others. How disappointed he'd be to see what he would become."

He let him go, the god left with a red face and growl in his throat, fixing his clothes as they singed. The figure held his arms out as the black he released earlier started to coat his body, leaving dark clothes behind.

"I am no longer Percy Jackson. That boy died when I was born. Willingly sacrificed himself, of course. Sent out by the ones he thought might protect him, help him, care about him. Instead they let him die."

The room was silent.

"I am a god, but I'm am far from holy."

The beings in the room shifted uncomfortably, looking at each other as the boy pulled up a hood to cover his sea green eyes and dark unkempt hair.

"I am Percy, God of emo."

And? What'd you think? Bet you didn't expect that! Any predictions for what I'm going to do with the rest of the gang? ;P