For some odd reason, you can't die. You've been hit by a car several times, always getting up without a scratch. You've been in burning buildings, you've drowned, you've been shot. And yet.. you're never hurt. Alive and well every time. So you walk over to the Hades table, at lunch– because for some reason each God's kids have formed a clique with each other– and demand them to tell their father to stop letting you be alive all the time, because sure, you appreciate it, but your godly parent will not like this if it were found out. "What are you talking about?" The kid with black hair and crazy sharp cheekbones asks– Mike, you think his name is.