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|Nico Di Angelo||
Posted: Dec 17 2017, 05:47 AM
it's dark inside
it's where my demons hide
He hated everyone.
He hated Percy Jackson, he hated Camp Half-Blood, he hated his father, he hated the gods and demigods, he hated the hunter that had convinced his sister to join their sisterhood, he hated the stupid centaur, he hated the darkness, the shadows... and he hated himself. He hated himself for being weak, for not being able to save his sister, for trusting someone just because they had saved their life. He... he had put the life of his sister at the hands of a hero, thinking it would be completely impossible for Bianca to get wound, not even with a scratch. Percy was invincible, he was brave and he wasn't afraid of anything, he could overcome any obstacle that made itself present, and he would win against any evil which lodged in his way. Percy could protect her. Percy could keep her safe from the clutches of monsters.
Oh, he was wrong. Oh, he had been naive. Oh, he had been guided by his feelings.
He hated Percy Jackson, he hated the hero he had admired, he hated the hero who had saved their life at first... but for what? If then he wouldn't even bother to save his sister. He could have let them die, he could have them rot. Since after all, Bianca already lay dead, and all Nico wanted right now was to die, he wanted to accompany her in death, plunge into an eternal sleep and never wake up. He wanted to not feel a thing, he wanted to forget. The pain was too much, it was unbearable. His heart shrank, his eyes burned, due to all the tears that he had poured out... I swear that he should have stayed dry, but tears kept coming, followed by wetting his pale cheeks, still reminding him that she wouldn't return.
She wouldn't return holding a handkerchief, she would not return to dry his tears. He was alone and disconsolate. He was alone and frightened. He was alone and needy. Nico needed his sister. He needed her warm, he needed her love, he needed her kisses, he needed her sweet words, those that always made everything better... he deeply needed his sister, but he couldn't have her back, because she had slipped away, and the dead, should stay dead. He felt so empty and inconsolable. He felt like an empty shell... without her, what was the point of living? Without her nothing made sense, without her nothing would ever be the same, without her his world would come down, he was sure of it.
But Minos wasn't consistent. The ghost that he had found after escaping from Camp Half-Blood had taught him the art of revenge, and Nico planned to use it. He planned to retaliate against Percy Jackson and his friends, he planned to make them suffer as they had made him suffer. They would pay... even though Minos, who claimed to be the Ghost King, still wouldn't let him act, saying that it was too soon. Nonsense, his words and the idea of ghosts. The idea to talk with them. The idea of being the only one who could see them. Nico knew beforehand that he and his sister were children of some God, but all the time that he had been in the Camp nobody had claimed him. Now... now he didn't need explanations, because he knew very well who was his divine father.
Hades, the God of Death.
The voices had told him. The voices that began to whisper in his ears after escaping, the voices who refused to leave him alone. They were trying to convince him to join them, they whispered him threatening things and Nico... he couldn't come to understand it, he couldn't come to understand where the voices came from, who owned them. Perhaps he was going crazy, maybe the loss had been too hard to support it. But Minos believed different. He had told him that they were spirits, spirits who wished for his alive soul to join them.
The boy still didn't know what powers did he possessed, but whichever they were, they were were out of control. The grass to his around always ended up withering, the shadows seemed to cover him like a blanket, as if they wanted to protect him... the earth trembled, threatening to reopen a crack. He was scared of what he could do, he was scared of what could happen... Although all uncertainty disappeared when he heard the news. Zoë Nightshade had died. He had felt it, he always felt it when someone left the world of the living, and believe me, it wasn't a nice feeling, but she, the girl who had claimed his sister... She was dead. She was in the underworld. She was within his reach. As soon as he found out how to get to the Underworld. Minos had told him that he could travel between the shadows, shadow-travel, and Nico had thought that was utterly impossible. But being the son of a God also could have seemed impossible before.
After several failed attempts that ended up in the wrong places and in several faintings, he managed to master his skill, at least a little, and was able to travel to the Underworld, where surprisingly he didn't pass out. He was tired, and that place... it was cold and inhospitable. But what could have been expected of the Underworld? Minos had indeed decided to accompany him on the trip, and Nico was grateful for it. He was the first person after Bianca who seemed to want to help him. Seemed.
He was what felt like hours strolling around the place, feeling the eyes of the ghosts sticking in his back, many of them even starting to follow his person, perhaps guided by his aura, his kinship, or the smell of death that he exuded. The son of Hades wasn't worried if he had people following him, as the only thing that he cared about was getting to the girl who had been the cause of everything. And he did, he arrived, he found her. She was the same girl who he had seen after having been saved from a monster. The same girl. The same culprit. Nico felt the anger burn inside, it wanted to leave, he wanted to make her pay for what she had done... but he couldn't, she was dead, he couldn't do anything, although his heart wanted so. The boy was silent for a few seconds, his fists tightened, his teeth and jaw clenched, his eyes wild-eyed... his white cheeks still stained by the tears that had recently been shed. He wanted to die. "You...".
Zoë Nightshade <3 I wrote 1040 words and i feel so damn proud.
Sig made by the awesome, lovely... running out of adjectives, uhm, Bach <3
Posted: Dec 29 2017, 05:40 PM
MORTALS CAN BE MORE HORRIBLE THAN MONSTERS
There weren't any stars here.
Maybe there was a white light for some people, a tunnel that emptied into somewhere else - that one could see in that brief flicker between the threshold of life and death. For Zoë, though, it was almost instantaneous. One moment she had been in the arms of the goddess she loved, loved without restraint in the final moments of her life - the next she was lying flat on her back. Her first conscious movement was to close her fingers around her bow in a sudden first breath as her eyes shot open, staring up at...nothingness. She was up in an instant. She was dead - dead - but there was only one thing on her mind.
"Bianca?" The hunter spun on her heel. It was bizarre. Her wound may have healed, the poison from dear Ladon seeping away - but she was not as strong as she once was, not as fast. It was like walking through treacle compared to what she was used to. "Bi - " She stopped and looked down at herself, at her hands. Normal strength, normal speed. She knew what that meant, and yet the name of her sister in arms died on her lips, another woman's name on her tongue instead. "Artemis," she croaked. Her voice broke and she moistened her lips. She wasn't a Hunter anymore. She had been stripped back to being a nymph - just a nymph, no longer her lady's handmaid, her second in command. The enormity of it suddenly hit her in the face. Oh, she knew she was going to die as soon as that prophecy had been delivered to her, whispered past the lips of that dried husk of an Oracle. But the truth - the reality - hurt more than any mortal wound. Zoë's hands shook and she went to cover her mouth, staring out towards the darkness of the - of what must've been the Underworld. Oh God. She was dead. I don't care, she thought wildly. I don't care about any of that. Only Artemis. Always Artemis.
And the Hunters. And the one Hunter who she'd -
It was a distraction, a perfect distraction. The Hesperid looked around again with new vigour. The poor girl - she had to be here somewhere. And as long as she looked for Bianca she didn't have to think of the goddess she had left behind. "Bianca," she called again, weakly - her voice sounding thin and barren. It was hard to see where she was, what the Underworld really looked like. To Zoë it was just dark and cold, dim figures amid so many shadows. But it was the small shadow of a girl in hunting gear that she was looking out for. "Bian - "
Zoë stopped in her tracks. There was a shadow here, she realised - a tiny one, who almost bled into the shadows themselves. It was like they were drawn to him, as though the darkness came alive at his presence. But for a moment she stared blankly, suddenly aware that she was in the land of the dead - that she was amongst others here. And the look he was giving her, almost of pure hatred....
"You're her brother." She struggled for words. "The - the - " She gestured with one hand. It was odd for her to feel so powerless, so without words. She was a Hesperid, a Hunter, cold and proud and so very very sure of herself. Yet not now. Not now. "The boy with the cards." She made a gesture as if fanning out invisible cards, remembering now where she'd seen him before. Back then her attentions had been on the girl of the two - the only part of the di Angelo set she was interested in, one who she was sure she could lift from the fate of becoming a wretched hero into something so much more worthwhile. But the boy - she remembered the boy, too. The one with the cards, the little statues. The brother.
The one left behind.
The look on his face was that of almost pure hatred - cracked hatred, splintered with the residue of tears. Any other day Zoë would've lifted her chin, met that gaze with one of her own. But it didn't come, and she couldn't even muster the power to step forward. She stood as if frozen. I don't know what his name is, she realised. She wasn't sure if she'd ever really been aware of what his name was...because I concentrated on Bianca. But if he was here - "How?" How. How was he in the Underworld, when it was the other di Angelo sibling who had died? Was it both of them? "Where is she? Bianca?"
ADD.: Nico Di Angelo | WORDS: 800 | NOTES:
|Nico Di Angelo||
Posted: Jan 2 2018, 02:28 PM
it's dark inside
it's where my demons hide
To see her suffering, to be able to feel it and taste it would be enough revenge for many, even for him. For a child who has never wanted revenge, a child who had always lived happily and carefree, at least the little time he had really been living, and not trapped in time. He had never wanted revenge, he had never even thought about it... all he ever wanted was, he wasn't even sure. But he knew that any answer he might have given at the time would have been accompanied by his sister's name, by the name of the only person who ever cared for him, who had loved him.
The sister who had betrayed him, the sister who had left him behind without a second thought. Nico was angry with her, he was angry with Bianca. She had promised him that they would always be together and that they would face whatever adversity the world might present to them, and that no matter what would happen, as long as they remained united, the siblings together forever, until the end of days. Instead, as soon as she had been offered the offer of a new life, the offer to leave everything she had once known behind, the offer to fight and to be immortal and... he had been left behind. She had accepted, without a moment’s thought as to how he might feel.
She had broken her promise, she had abandoned him, she was going to join Artemis' huntress and he would have to stay alone in that Camp, without anyone, alone, abandoned, forgotten. But still, even with all the grudges he might have felt towards his sister, he wanted her to... at least enjoy that mission, her first quest. He didn't want her to leave, she was his sister and he wanted her to stay with him and never leave him, but deep down he knew he couldn't change her wishes either. So he decided to trust Percy, the invincible hero who had saved their lives in the first place.
Everything was going to be fine, everything was going to work, Bianca would be safe, because the greatest hero of them all would be there protecting her. It had been beautiful, the farce, the few days it had lasted. Then Percy, his hero, the person he still idolized, had told him that Bianca, the person he had promised to protect and keep alive, had died. Ironic. A daughter of Hades dead. And he, prey to his own pain and misery, had fled. He couldn't stay there, he couldn't face the lowlife liar who hadn't been able to keep his promise, he couldn't stay there, he couldn't stay there.
And now, standing there, looking at the person who had decided that having his sister on her team would be a good idea, the person who hadn't been able to save her either... well, let's just say his blood was boiling. For different reasons, of course. For his sister, but also for himself, since the hunter could only identify him as the boy with the cards. The cards. The stupid game, the figurines... the figurines for which Bianca had died, she had died because of him, she had died because he had been angry with her and she wanted to reward him somehow. And the worst part was, the worst part was that he was still angry at her... for leaving him alone, for dying and leaving him there, for everything that had happened. It was just plain unfair.
The boy nailed his dark eyes to the figure of the woman, her dead figure, he reminded himself from time to time, she was dead. And she looked exactly the same. He didn't know how she had died, he hadn't been there to see it, but he knew she had also made crumbs with his sister, or at least that's what he wanted to believe. After all, Zoë was looking for her, she was looking for Bianca, she was looking for his sister among all those diffuse faces that were gathering around them. Nico looked around, perhaps also with some simple and unrealistic hopes of finding his sister there, among all those dark figures, but none of them were her, he would know, he was sure.
"Nico" the demigod murmured, his voice sounding so tremulous, so broken... like a glass so fragile that with the most minimal contact it would shatter. It was worn out and hoarse, due to his incessant crying, due to screaming his sister's name at the top of his lungs, waiting for someone to answer, hoping that please something good would come out of it... but as expected, nothing good had happened at all. He had decided to give her his name, because he would not like to be addressed as the boy with the cards, not from her lips, not from anyone's lips. He wasn't even that boy anymore, that boy had died, he was gone and he wasn't coming back.
In response to her questions, the boy laughed humorlessly, a cold laugh without any feelings. He laughed mirthlessly. "An advantage of the children of Hades, I suppose" was all he had to say, that's all she needed to know. Now, there was a problem wit her next question. The problem was that he wasn't sure where Bianca was either. Minos had explained that it would be possible for him to invoke her spirit, but he had not yet done so, for he was not yet ready. Nonsense. "In Elysium, I hope," he muttered, slowly shrugging, tilting his head in her direction. Though, where they in Elysium? The huntress of Artemis should be there, they were all heroes, after all... Nico wasn't even familiar with the Underworld, he couldn't pretend he was.
Zoë Nightshade <3 tell me if you need more to work with! he barely speaks xd
Sig made by the awesome, lovely... running out of adjectives, uhm, Bach <3
Posted: Jan 10 2018, 01:22 PM
MORTALS CAN BE MORE HORRIBLE THAN MONSTERS
Zoë knew it was a mistake to refer to him as such as soon as the words left her lips. Apprehension crossed her face, but the outburst she was expecting never came. Nothing came; no shouting, no reaction. Just a name. His name. His correct name, if she had only been listening. "Nico," she repeated. Nico. Of course. The name came back to her now - dimly, vaguely, as if through a haze or a fog of thoughts. Little Nico. His voice was so fractured she looked to him with horror. What have I done? It was like he was broken, and it was all her fault.
She shuddered at his laugh - a tiny tremor where she stood. It was so emotionless it seemed to ring out sharper and harsher than its should have, but it was nothing compared to the news to follow. The Huntress looked to the demigod with undisguised shock. "Hades?" Of course. How else could he be here? Hades - Bianca...she groped for words. The son of Hades? "I - I wondered, but.." She'd never thought that. Hades had never crossed her mind. Athena, perhaps - Bianca had been clever, after all. Hermes, even. Or a minor demigod or goddess, someone out of the way. But him? She thought there had been a pact between the Big Three - no more children. They broke it. Obviously. She took a step backwards instinctively, without even thinking. She didn't fear Bianca, the girl who had grown to be one of her best hunters and closest friends during the quest. But Nico...
Nico was angry and upset. And Gods knew he deserved to be. And now he was a child of the Big Three.
There was one bit of good news, at least. "Elysium." Zoë pressed her lips together and nodded. "Good." She sniffed and nodded to herself. Good old Bianca, rewarded after death. It was rightly won. "I'm glad." She deserved to be there, more than she did at least. Maybe that was why they were here...wherever here was. Another part of the Underworld, far from the honour of Elysium at any rate. If Zoë had been in any way paying attention to Nico rather than contemplating Bianca she would have wondered why the boy was so hesitant about a place that was surely his back garden, to roam as he wished - surely a place he would know well, instinctively even without even a thought. He seemed nervous about where his sister was, where her soul had gone to after...after...and with that, Zoë thought only of Bianca. Out there, somewhere, hopefully safe and secure now after being led into the lions' den by people who she should have been able to trust.
Her heart wrenched at the thought. "Nico, I..." Without her circlet, without the girls around her, Zoë felt bare and exposed. "The prophecy - I should've seen it coming." One shall be lost in the land without rain. It was there for all to see, and even then she had mistaken its meaning. She had debated with Bianca itself whether it meant Camp Half Blood - technically a land without rain - so much so that a theory became fact, and after Phoebe was unable to go she'd thought that was what it meant. And besides, she had been consumed with the other part of the verse: the one who would perish by a parent's hand. Hers. Her parent. But those were excuses - just excuses - and facing the son of Hades now she didn't know what to say. She stood there. "I'm...I’m sorry," she said, though she didn't know any other way to make the words less hollow. They sounded paper-light, and just as easily torn.
ADD.: Nico Di Angelo | WORDS: 624 | NOTES: