ᴋɪɴɢʟʏ

That alone is enough to land the job, but it seems Nico isn’t without proper experience. If he is to be trusted (and Sinbad is inherently trusting of those who remind him of himself at a young age), he’s hired far less qualified men to do bigger jobs than he has available here.

“I’d like to see your shadow travel firsthand, of course, so I can assign you to appropriate tasks, but I see no reason why I shouldn’t hire you on the spot.” With a smile as radiant as the sun, he ushers his newest employee further into the store. “Welcome to Sindria Trading Company. I should show you around before anything else…” But. There is hanging, unspoken but that permeates the air between them, kept silent only because Sinbad knows he is wrong before even asking.

“Wow! Um. Thank you!”

But then Sinbad is trailing off, and an acidic uncomfortable feeling pools in NIco’s gut. This is the part where Sinbad regrets hiring him and changes his mind about everything.

It turns out to be a false alarm, though, because Sinbad is asking him about someone he’s definitely never heard of before. Nico shakes his head and says, “No. I’m pretty new to Hive City so....” He trails off and hopes that’s the right answer.

“Oh!” Nico goes intelligently, remembering. “But yeah, um, I could show you. Like I said it works between sectors and far distances but....” He looks around for a shadow large enough for him to sink into. He finds one easily enough.

Shadow travel is terrible for most people. It feels like running impossibly fast down an impossibly long tunnel that threatens not to let you breathe. Nico is used to it, but those times where he has had tag-a-longs have not been fun.

Speaking of home, Nico still needs to find out where he’s supposed to be staying in this city.

Privately he thanks whatever part of the universe that didn’t throw him to the wolves today when Marshall offers to help.

“Yep. A guitar made out of the family axe, made it myself actually.” The grin returns, obviously being quite proud of himself. “It’s pretty freakin’ rad. Maybe I’ll show it to you when I get it back.”

Speaking of home, Nico still needs to find out where he’s supposed to be staying in this city.

“I worked for my father,” Nico says in the same voice he uses when he acts as ambassador of Pluto for Camp Jupiter’s senate, and not bothering to mention who his father is. He doubts this man will know the name, but years of rejection make his gut instinct to hide it.

"I delivered messages and packages for him all over the world with my ability to shadow travel. It’s exactly what it sounds like; I use the shadows to travel. My ability seems to be limited here, but it would definitely speed up the delivery process.”

Nico is pretty pleased with his answer until he realized saying he worked for his father seems childish, especially given his age. Hastily he adds, “My father’s clients were all high-profile and could be at times --” he pauses trying to figure out how to word this gently, “-- temperamental.”

This boy is not wholly unfamiliar. They’ve never met, yet there is familiarity found in the way he holds himself, as if… yes… The thoughts come unbidden with memories of a crimson-haired child hot on their heels. Both the child in his memories and the child in his store are alike in that they have seen more than they will say, and perhaps they hold more than they will show.

He approaches the counter, glancing at the various wares around the shop. Some look mundane, but some are obviously specialty items.

Awkwardly he stuffs his hands in his pockets as he realizes he didn’t really think this through. He doesn’t have a resume on him, but what would it say anyway? Nico di Angelo: Messenger for the Lord of the Underworld. Yeah. He’s sure that would go over well.

“You were gonna flippin’ pull a sword on me, kid? What the heck, man. You’re mad rude comin’ in here on me like this and then wantin’ to stab me. I was joking. I’m not gonna hurt you, promise. Well, at least I won’t if you don’t freakin’ attack me.” He’s visibly amused as he speaks and relaxes back again, sitting himself down and leaning back. “Lucky for you, a sword wouldn’t do much. Now a stake, that’s a different story. But I feel you, they took my axe guitar too.”

“Axe...guitar?” He repeats. He’s seen a lot of weapons in his time, but he’s never seen an axe guitar. He’d be a liar if he said it didn’t sound, well, cool. “Hopefully you get it back soon. It sounds awesome.”

At the mention of socializing, Nico’s face pales. He doesn’t think he’s bad at the whole “talking to people” thing, but from how people react to him, he thinks he might be wrong about that. If the point of him being here is to make friends then he might as well just call up the scientists and tell them they’ve got a failed subject. Nico won’t pass their tests.

He seems awkward, but who wouldn’t be in such a strange situation, though he doesn’t know this person at all so it could have been any number of things. He chooses to assume, however. “Psht, they ain’t my scientists. Gross. I hate those wads. My scientist is, like, more of a prince…princientist. Whatever. But he doesn’t have any affiliation with the ones who jacked our bizz.” He shrugs.

Wiping his hand on his pants, leaving behind a wet smear, he says, “So, what? Do we have to go on a quest or whatever to get them back?” He really hopes not. He’s got a war to worry about back home, never mind the gods testing him.

The guy keeps talking and Nico can’t help but peg on the fact that this guy, whoever he is, can summon skeletons too. It shouldn’t be as surprising as it is, considering the whole demigod thing is all about having weird powers, but Nico’s never met someone else who can do the same kind of stuff he can.

He opens his mouth, maybe to comment on it, when the idea of soul sucking is mentioned and years of living on the battle field make his fight or fight kick in. Nico’s whole posture changes to the defensive, and he reaches for his --

“FRICK!” An actual shock sets in as some guy just walks out of his fridge, hand setting to his chest as though he has a heart to actually jump in surprise, his guitar dropping to the floor with a thud. “Gave me a heart attack, man. Oh…wait. No you didn’t. I don’t even have a pulse.” He laughs to himself, and then laughs at the other male running into the fridge. This person looks confused, though, so he takes an educated guess and speaks up again.

Embarrassment creeps up the back of Nico’s neck and into his cheeks. He’d been hoping no one had seen that fiasco, but he should have known with his luck it was impossible for someone to have not seen it.

“Sorry,” Nico mumbles, ducking his head, but opening the freezer for a bit of ice. “And thanks. I wasn’t trying to murder your fridge. I was trying to leave, but I guess your, uh, scientists have something to do with that.” 

He presses the ice to his face gingerly and crosses his free arm uncomfortably around his middle. No one has ever seemed to be this comfortable around him before and Nico’s finding he doesn’t know how to hold a conversation while he steals ice from their fridge.

But, the kid that she was talking to the other day… month?? while, ago, was walking towards her and he was friendly enough. He looked like he was in the same boat as her, with all black and an aviators jacket on.

“Yeah,” he says, albeit a bit awkwardly. He’s been here how long and isn’t used to people talking to him, still? He needs to get out more. But that’s kind of hard to do when the first person you meet rejects you on sight. 

“Not the smartest choice I could have made today, huh?” He says gesturing vaguely to his aviator jacket. It’s too old to be worn out like this anymore, really, but what can he say? He’s attached.