WHO: Nico di Angelo and Bianca di Angelo WHAT: Meeting and talking about stuff WHEN: Tuesday WHERE: Nico and Percy's room WARNINGS: Talk of death STATUS: Closed/Ongoing
Nico was pacing his room, nervous. Nervous because Bianca was coming over. It had been three years since he'd seen her, three years since they had been close. Back then, she'd been his everything, the girl he looked up to, trusted, counted on to keep him safe. Then she'd abandoned him for the Hunters of Artemis, and then she'd died. He'd spent months, years, trying to bring her back from the dead, terrified and alone. And when that had failed, he'd learned to live by himself, alone, away from everyone in the bowels of the earth, traveling in and out of the Underworld.
He'd learned a lot, there was no doubting that. He was an exceptionally strong demigod now, as the son of one of the Big Three should be. He could do big things, scary things, and he knew that some people found him to be a little creepy or scary. Probably just genetics, because he didn't really mean to be. But he was the son of Hades, and his powers didn't have to do with nice things like water or air, but with dark things deep within the earth, and with death. He'd come not to fear death as he once had, although the loss of Bianca still stung him. Especially when he'd discovered that she'd chosen to be reborn, sent back into the world to where he'd never find her, never get a chance to speak with her again. A complete, and final loss.
He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as he paced.
And so much had happened since he'd seen her. How could he explain to her what had happened to him in Tartarus? He couldn't explain it to anyone. He couldn't put words to the horrors he'd seen, or how that had killed so much of the child that remained inside him. Nobody alive was supposed to be faced with those horrors. They could kill a soul, and they would always haunt him.
But a part of him that would never die just wanted to see his sister. Wanted her to hug him, and to hear her tell him that it would be alright, like she always had before. Part of him knew that it was an entirely naive wish, something that could never be, but the other part of him swore that it could.
So he waited by the door, confused and unsure, waiting for his sister to arrive.