Ian and Nico
"Nico," he replied as he took a drink of the beer. Nico's accent was mostly American, although there was a slight Italian lilt to it. He had been born and spent the first years of his life in Venice, after all. He'd only left when Mussolini had threatened and his mother had moved them to America.
"Nah," he said. "Most people don't go camping very much. Magnus is the son of Frey, so he loves the out doors and stuff." Nico shrugged. "I spend quite a bit of time outside, but usually in graveyards."
He said that like it was the most normal thing ever, which to him it was. He hoped that he was controlling his aura enough that the darkness he'd inherited from his father wouldn't freak the guy out. It was nice to have someone talk to him and not run screaming in the other direction.