Hello again :) Anyways, this chapter was really only included because I needed to spend a set amount of time on this project and needed someting more to research and write about, so here it is. It's somewhat interesting, but I wouldn't blame anyone who decided to skip it.

~Cissa So, I know this chapter isn't abut a certain myth that makes me look bad, rather this is another chapter that goes and tries to explain why, on those rare occasions, I might appear just a little cranky. Let me explain.

So, you know how the Greeks would worship all of us Gods through sacrifices, prayers, and other various means right? Well, let's just say that in my mind I didn't get the worshiping I deserve and that, along with the whole being swallowed by my father thing, is why I might lose my temper a little too quickly every once and a while.

First of all, they wouldn't even say my name! They thought is "frightening" or some such nonsense like that. Instead they had various names they used instead such as:

Pluto: Of wealth

Zeus Chthonius: Zeus of the underworld

Theon Chthonius: God of the underworld

Polysemantor: Ruler of many

Polydegmon: Host of many

Polyxenus: Host of many

Necrodegmon: Receiver of the dead

Necron Sotor: Savior of the dead

They also thought it would make me happier to be Pluton, the God of wealth (because all the precious metals come from under the earth) and so usually I was referred to by that name instead of who I really am. They also called me the God of Earth's fertility. It really bugged me that they were basically taking away my identity for their own purposes. I mean, yes I don't like being God of the underworld, but it's who I am, and I'd appreciate it if they didn't try and gloss over the fact.

Also, lots of the Gods had hymns sung to them, but did I? No! Well, that's not entirely true. I did have a hymn sung to me as Pluton. It went like this: "To Plouton [Haides]. Plouton, magnanimous, whose realms profound are fixed beneath the firm and solid ground, in the Tartarean plains remote from sight, and wrapt for ever in the depths of night. Zeus Khthonios (of the Underworld), thy sacred ear incline, and pleased accept these sacred rites divine. Earth's keys to thee, illustrious king, belong, its secret gates unlocking, deep and strong. 'Tis thine abundant annual fruits to bear, for needy mortals are thy constant care. To thee, great king, all sovereign earth assigned, the seat of gods and basis of mankind. Thy throne is fixed in Haides' dismal plains, distant, unknown to the rest, where darkness reigns; where, destitute of breath, pale spectres dwell, in endless, dire, inexorable hell; and in dread Akheron, whose depths obscure, earth's stable roots eternally secure. O mighty Daimon, whose decision dread, the future fate determines of the dead, with Demeter's girl [Persephone] captive, through grassy plains, drawn in a four-yoked car with loosened reins, rapt over the deep, impelled by love, you flew till Eleusinia's city rose to view: there, in a wondrous cave obscure and deep, the sacred maid secure from search you keep, the cave of Atthis, whose wide gates display an entrance to the kingdoms void of day. Of works unseen and seen thy power alone to be the great dispending source is known. All-ruling, holy God, with glory bright, thee sacred poets and their hymns delight, propitious to thy mystics' works incline, rejoicing come, for holy rites are thine."

I admit, it's not bad, but it's not technically to me. I mean, I don't even know who this Plouton guy is and here they are singing hymns to him.

Along with having basically no hymns to me, they also had very few images of me. Now you can find a lot of pictures of me on the internet and whatnot, but they are modern drawings, and they weren't around when the Greeks were. There are a few pictures on some vases and whatnot, but not many.

As far as sacrifices go, they would sacrifice any black animal, usually sheep, to me. All the other Gods got to have white sacrifices; I got stuck with the oddball out black sheep. It's totally not fair! They would let the blood from the sacrifice drip into pits that were in the ground so that it could get to me way down there under the earth. Oh, and get this, the person actually doing the sacrifice would turn away his face.

Also, whenever they actually did pray to me, they would bang their heads on the ground so they would be heard by me, again, being way under the ground and all.

They did hold these "secular games" in my honor, but they were only every hundred years. I mean, come on people, can't ya show me some love here!?