Nico di Angelo (theghostking) wrote in somerealityrpg, @ 2019-08-03 23:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | active: nico di angelo |
WHO: Nico di Angelo
WHERE: Random abandoned interaction across town from the apartment building.
WHEN: Morning of August 3. Creature Encounter. During/right after Vanya shakes the building.
WARNINGS: Mentions of death/implied suicidal thoughts.
SPOILERS? None I don't think.
SPECIAL NOTES: Nico has very strong geokinetic abilities, and he used them in conjunction with his umbrakinesis (though he showed restraint). If anyone would have been within at least a few blocks of him early this morning, they could have experienced the ground shaking, the sound of the earth splitting, and a shadow blocking out whatever light was left with the sun not out (but it was gone quickly). (I figure I'll leave it as a player's discretion thing.) Anyone stumbling across the intersection once he's gone would see large, deep fissures in the ground spoking out from a central point. He may or may not come back to fix it at a later time.
The building shook, pulling Nico di Angelo from whatever attempt at sleep he’d been trying to make.
The building shook, and Nico grabbed his sword, out of bed, on his feet, heart racing, eyes darting for the threat.
The building shook, and the room was a cage, the walls closing in, the air growing thin.
The building shook, and Nico fled, into the shadows as fast as he could, one moment in a room that had somehow become his, the next at an intersection on the other side of town.
There was no sun, he noticed. The air was cold, but it wasn’t his fault this time. He could not see any immediate threat, but some instinct, some hardwired piece of his brain warned him that he was not alone. Even the ghosts fled, though form what, he did not know.
A tingling sensation crept along his scalp, down his spine, and Nico spun around, looking for the source. It reminded him, just a little of Akhlys, of Tartarus and its horrors. Sword held in a ready position, his eyes darted around the dark, empty streets. Slowly he turned in a circle, his nerves on fire with anticipation.
Movement from the left had him spinning again, black Falcata sword already moving, slashing through the air. It met no resistance as he came face to face with a tall, darkly robed creature. It was not dead, he knew that without needing to think about it, but it also had taken no damage from his sword. How it was impervious to the infernal metal, he wasn’t entirely sure.
And then there was laughter, the sound of whispers, of people all around him.
When he turned, he found himself surrounded. Blurry faces stared back at him, some pointing, some laughing. “What a disgusting deviant,” one blurred person said, loathing in her voice. Another sneered (though how he knew that, he couldn’t say). The whispers rose and fell, a wave of sound filling his ears.
“Freak,” they said.
“Pervert,” they hissed.
“Monster,” they spat.
His heart quickened, and he shook his head. This was not real, he told himself, turning around, trying to find a way out of the circle, a path away from their hate filled eyes.
“She’s dead because of you,” a familiar voice said.
“You deserve to be alone,” another said.
“You’re not good enough. You deserve to be dead,” a third voice joined in, and his heart ached with the memory of the last time he’d heard it.
Anguish on his face, Nico turned, trying to drag it out. But all too quickly they came into view, all too clearly he saw them; Hazel on the left, Bianca on the right, and himself in the middle.
“It’s your fault she died,” his other self repeated, contempt on his face.
“You brought me back so you wouldn’t be alone,” said the vision of Hazel. “Because you’re selfish. And everyone hates you.”
At her words, more familiar figures appeared behind the images of himself and his sisters; Percy and Annabeth, Piper and Jason, Leo and Frank. And in the middle of them all, towering at least ten feet tall, a pale figure with black hair and black eyes glared down at him, flowing black robes with the souls of evil threaded into the cloth, stood Hades, hatred emanating off him in waves.
“I was the one he loved,” said Bianca, her lip curled. “Not you. It was never you. You shouldn’t have been born. You were a mistake.”
“You’re disgusting.” His dark eyes shifted to Percy, Annabeth leaning against his side.
“You’re pathetic.” His gaze shifted to Leo, to Frank.
“You don’t belong anywhere.” Jason, Piper nodding in agreement.
“You’re a monster.” Freddy, walking out from behind all the rest, shaking his head before turning away, turning toward Klaus, a look of disappointment on his face.
And then all of them, those he could make out and those blurry faced people in orange shirts, in purple shirts -- even his father -- all of them chanted, one word, again and again.
“Monster,” they said.
“Monster,” they jeered.
“Monster,” they screamed.
Monster, he thought, bowing his head.
Monster, he thought, pulling into himself.
Monster, he thought, gripping his sword.
“I AM A MONSTER,” he bellowed, throwing his head back. His sword hand twisted, blade pointing down.
“I AM A MONSTER, AND YOU WILL FEAR ME,” he roared, holding the grip with both hands.
In one quick motion he thrust the blade down, dropping to one knee. The ground shook and splintered, webbing from the point where his sword met the asphalt. A shadow, black and solid, expanded from around him, shoving the creature back, stunning it long enough for all the figures -- both clear and blurry -- to vanish.
Panting, Nico looked up to find himself alone in the middle of the intersection, no spectres in sight. He pushed himself up, and, on shaky knees, he ran, slipping into the nearest shadow, leaving nothing but wide, deep fissures radiating out form the center of the intersection in his wake.