Tartaros

The boy was coming close to the entrance. Very close, to close in fact. Tartaros eyed the boy, or rather his something-something Grandson, from the shadows of the cavern, watching interestedly as the young, foolish boy crept closer down the slope, going toward the entrance of Tartarus. The Primordial was the guardian of Tartarus and therefore had been alert to Nico's presence as soon as he stepped foot into the cave, and the God had half a mind to let him be foolishly dragged down into the pit, at the very least to teach him a lesson.

The boy was the very picture of a Hades son. Dark hair, pale skin, dark eyes and a random T Shirt with baggy jeans. Minus the modern clothing he was the very picture of a Hades Hero if such a thing existed. A black sword was gripped in a white knuckled grip, as if the boy expected a Titan to jump out of the Pit and attack at him. Really though, that didn't happen TO often.

Still though, if the boy came any closer he would be inevitably sucked into the prison and it would be far to much of an effort to deal with Hades' anger and also claw the boy from the grips of the monsters and Titans deep inside the pit. On the other hand, it would be kind of funny to just watch him be sucked in, and Hades was funny when he got mad. Really, what was the worst that could happen? Slight insanity wasn't that bad a symptom, in fact if Tartaros pulled him out in time it might not even have a terrible effect. Some hallucinations here and there and maybe a deeply ingrained sense of paranoia that the boy was being watched, but that's what the boy deserved for prodding around where he wasn't wanted.

In the end Tartaros did nothing, simply crossed his arms and watched carefully. If and when the boy got sucked in he'd be sure not to leave him in there forever of course, just a little bit. He wasn't that cruel of a person, well not usually anyway.

Suddenly the cavern shook, and rocks the size of crumbs drizzled down and landed on the young boy's head. Nico paused, fearful, eyes darting about as if afraid he had been caught by somebody. He kept absolutely still, seeming to blend into the inky blackness but Tartaros could see him perfectly well with his Godly sight. The Primordial's mouth stretched back into a feral smile, now understanding. The boy had been forbidden to come here by his Father but he had done so anyway in a juvenile act of teenage rebellion, and was now scared to death (He had to remember to write that pun down later) that his Father had discovered him.

Tartaros knew the truth of course. The Fates were stopping the boy from going any further so as to not mess with the timeline they had created. A slightly, or more than slightly at this point, insane Nico might just mess with the little story they were creating up there. Personally the Primordial saw it as a big overreaction and an even bigger ruining of his fun, but decided he might as well step in since the Fates apparently wanted him too.

Phasing out of the darkness directly behind the boy, Tartaros touched his shoulder with his finger. Tightened up and obviously jumpy, the young man whirled about and swung his sword powerfully, aiming to kill whatever it was behind him. The black Stygian blade would have severed the neck of any other monster easily, but in this case the tip of the blade simply warped through the God's neck and didn't actually hit anything. Seeing no harm had been done, Nico's eyes widened when he realized he had just tried to kill a God and backed away fearfully. Rolling his eyes, the Primordial snapped his arm forward and caught the boy by the wrist, pulling him away from being sucked into the prison. Tartaros whipped him around and shoved him back up the slope a step, glaring down at the boy with his far superior height.

"Just what do you think you're doing, Boy?" Tartaros growled.

Nico, realizing he wasn't about to be turned into an animal or zapped to dust, swallowed hard and straightened his posture, "Exploring," He paused then decided to add, "Sir."

The ancient God's eyes narrowed minutely, "You should know better than to come down here, Boy. Tartarus is not the place for exploring and I doubt your Father would let you come down here, so turn around and go back to wherever you came from."

The boy, to his credit, did well to hide his embarrassment at being discovered but didn't budge, "I know who you are, I read about you."

Scowling in annoyance, the Primordial rolled his eyes, "Shouldn't you be gone by now?"

"You're Tartaros," The boy continued nonetheless, blatantly ignoring his question, "God of Nothing and Guardian of Tartarus."

"Listen Boy, a history lesson isn't necessary. Just turn around and walk up the slope. Consider yourself lucky, if the Fates weren't stopping me I'd have obliterated you to ashes and spread them around France by now, so turn around and leave."

The boy arrogantly stood up straighter and stared him right in his Godly eyes. It obviously took the boy physical effort to just look the Primordial in the eyes, right into the heart of the God's primal power, "You're the God of Nothing, why should I be scared of you?"

Oh for Chaos' sake, the impertinence of the youth got worse every generation. Sizing up to his full height of eight feet, at this point almost double the size of the boy, The God of Nothing finally saw a glint of fear in the boy's eyes. Tartaros couldn't lie and say he wasn't annoyed by the boy's claim to quite possibly the most arrogant Hero he had met in the past millennium, but with that came a certain level of respect. Not many would be brave enough to talk back to a Primordial God. Of course the God couldn't say that.

"Watch your mouth, Boy," Tartaros hissed, "Your Father is a pebble compared to me, and I could very easily destroy you. Your impertinence will get you killed if you continue to act like your Father, as if you own the place because you're a son of the big three."

Nico blinked, appearing shaken but doing his best to hide it. Not that their was any real point to such a thing because Tartaros could sense the waves of uncertainty and hesitation pouring out of the boy in waves. Behind those feelings though was a steely determination and the God realized that the boy wouldn't be easy to peacefully remove. Peacefully being the key word. Otherwise the Primordial would splatter him against the wall.

Nico, meanwhile, seemed to have regained his composure and craned his neck to look Tartaros in his face, "I don't have to strut around like I own the place, because my Dad does own the place. King of the Underworld obviously."

"You seem to have an interest in the obvious, even if you aren't that smart," The Primordial leered at the young boy, "But I forget, you're the Ghost King correct? A title stolen from that fool Minos."

"No," Nico replied steadily, "I didn't steal it, the title's mine."

"Good for you," Tartaros flippantly and just as sarcastically grunted, "It's a small title boy, don't let it get to your head. Now if you wouldn't mind, turn your tiny self around and leave. I can tell you came to this place against your Father's wishes, so unless you want me to call him here I suggest you turn around and have fun in the Styx or whatever it is you kids are doing these days."

"I want to see Tartarus."

"No, you don't you stupid child. You might as well turn around now unless you have an interest in being rendered insane for eternity, because I'm not allowed to let you enter."

"But . . ."

Tartaros rolled his eyes and snatched the boy up by the collar of his shirt and brought the boy truly face to face with him. Ah, now Nico looked truly afraid. His face was stricken with fear, but he couldn't look the God directly in the eyes as he had before. Now the Primordial's eyes were glowing with a golden light, with wispy tentacles of smoke drawing up out of his sockets. Staring into his eyes now could lead to blindness, "Listen you stupid Half-blood, you don't understand what you're asking for. Down there is a prison so terrible and incomprehensible that simply staring into it's abyss will drive your pathetic mortal mind to madness. I have humored your arrogance, but now I'm almost ready to ignore the Fates and turn you to an amputee," The cave rumbled warningly, and Tartaros scowled, "But luck is on your side boy, so the worst I'll do is throw you out."

Nico made to look at the cavern floor, "What are you going to do?"

The God's lips pulled back in a shark like smile filled with a cruel joy. Nico's world spun and his eyes, suddenly heavy, were forced to blink. He was suddenly in a different place, a different but also familiar place. Obsidian walls, blazing torches and a vague smell of the undead mixed with cooked food. He had been transported back to his father's palace . . .

"What in Tartarus is going on here?!" A voice roared.

. . . Directly inside his Father's bedroom.

Tartaros dropped Nico to the cold, black floor and crossed his arms unflinchingly. Hades was sitting up in his bed, with his wife Persephone next to him gripping his arm confusedly. Eyes alight with power the 'Olympian' jumped out of bed and stormed up to the Primordial, "Just what are you doing with my son Primordial?"

Tartaros held his gaze flatly, "Keep your boy out of my territory and out of my sight. You're lucky the Fates saved him from being sucked into Tartarus and I didn't blast him into dust for his impertinence."

Hades glared at his son who was still on the floor, face stricken with shame, "I'll be sure he doesn't go anywhere for a long time, trust me."

"Good enough for me," Tartaros grunted, "The youth of today are a wreck."

He disappeared from sight, back to his home in the shadows of Tartarus. Meanwhile Hades stared down at his son, VERY sternly, and grimaced, "I swear if I weren't already King of the Dead and you weren't my son I would kill you right now."