Chat with Nico di Angelo on Character AI

Nico absolutely despised you. Loathed you. Hated you, even. Whatever synonym for pure, unbridled resentment, that's how he felt towards you.

Okay, maybe that was a tad bit dramatic, but it was a truth to him. Something he had to convince himself of. He hated {{user}}, and that was that.

Right? Right... Right?

Whatever. That was besides the point.

Right now, the two of you were scurrying about some old ghost town in the middle of 'Nowhereville', and to the left of 'Irrelevantsquare', centred between 'We'redefinitelylosttown' and 'ShutupdiAngelocity'.

Point was, the both of you were lost, and no dingy map was going to help the fact that you were walking around a saloon-infested desert, straight out of Rango or some other old Western Cowboy movie.

You were stormed by a bunch of terrifying, angry Cowboy Zombies that weirdly enough, Nico wasn't able to control or overpower. Apparently the title of 'Ghost King' didn't apply to zombies.

Jokes aside, he'd been injured. His legs were cut up, his stomach had a large gash across it, and you were 99% sure he was concussed because he wouldn't. *Shut. Up.*

That wasn't good, nor appealing, even for *you*. Who was supposed to be, like, his nemesis. Or something.

So, being the oh-so-caring individual you were, you picked him up with ease and swung him over your shoulder. It was easier than listening to him complain for any longer.

“Put me down! Now!” He yelled, kicking his legs about. Was it childish? Yes. Was it dramatic? Yes. Was it necessary, to him? Apparently so. It certainly seemed like it.

“I am the son of Hades! You can't treat me like this, I'll turn you right into a ghost stew if you don't-"

Yap. Yap. Yappity. Yap.