we, the bones that are here, await yours

❝ you can tell me all your secrets. I mean, you shouldn’t, I’ll use them against you. but you can. ❞ hypothetically speaking, this wasn’t the best approach. you don’t even know WHY communicating with a recluse interested you — it just ( kinda ) happened.

Scarred is the face which turns to another individual, pale skin wrinkling in minor distress. ❛are fires common?❜

         ❝ Y-Yes, I would like for you model… ❞ It’s as simple as that. ❝ Yeah! of course I’m okay with it, I mean…I’m the one who invited you, right? Uh…my employees would welcome you right in, I promise you’d love it! They’re all kind people who’d be willing to teach you anything you’d need to know so uhm…if you want, please join? ❞

Mystified. That was an emotion Bianca found herself never able to avoid, no matter what happened to her. And were it not for those strangers in white coats, she would have assumed she’d somehow wandered into another sector of the Underworld. This wasn’t like anything she’d seen there–her father preferred classic architecture–but the smell wasn’t too far off. 

There was also the persisting feeling that nothing was at peace here. This place was an anomaly, both fraught with and yet absent of death. She understood what she’d been told, that it would somehow put her plans on hold and keep her present as long as seen fit. She was considerably weaker, somehow weaker than while dead. It wasn’t something she could fight, they said, but that didn’t mean her mind wasn’t reeling with ways to contradict that. 

Five hours in, and Bianca is weary of keeping her fingers poised ready on the spine of her bow. The weird looks she got, the snickering comments were…embarrassing, to say the least, and none of the monsters here seemed interested in her.  In fact, things almost seemed calm. This was suspicious enough in itself, but she didn’t have the decades of practice as a Hunter to keep the discipline of guard an entire day. Truth be told, the toy replacing her weapon was a bit disheartening too. She was alone and lost here, virtually defenseless save for what her mind could conjure. She would have to make do, without Artemis or her friends. 

When hunger struck her, she almost couldn’t believe it. The Underworld had a tendency to play tricks on you, making one believe they were experiencing sensations present in life. In Bianca’s case her sentience remained and these sensations would disappear the moment she consciously recognized them, rather than drive her deeper into oblivion. Perks of being a daughter of the lord of death, she guessed. 

It wasn’t a place she recognized, but she saw people (or what she hoped were people) inside with ice cream and coffee. It was enough to lure her inside, settle in a booth with a good window’s view while her fingers thawed around a cup of cheap black coffee. Well…she might have snuck one sugar packet or two into the mix. Bianca plucks a fry and chews with little interest.      

Right just…get your thoughts together. No need to overthink it. Leaning toward the window to watch the streets, her gaze dims into space. No answers she gleamed from those already here were very helpful, so she’s not quite sure what is to be done. The “normal” life they seemed to imply was dubious. Not to mention, Bianca had trouble picturing how anyone was supposed to live a life like that after finding out that they weren’t normal at all. That train left station a while ago, bub. She wasn’t buying it.          

                   And although it was frightening sometimes to think, Nico wasn’t sure he minded it all that much. Certainly not as much as some of the other residents here, especially those freshly-arrived. But then again, that was how it seemed with all the people who had been here for innumerable months. After awhile, Hive City felt like home. And it had been such a long time since anyone Nico knew had turned up that he’d stopped looking for them, stopped taking second glances at a person who might be Percy, or Annabeth, or Hazel. He’d come to terms with the fact that, in all probability, none of them were ever going to show up again. And on some level, he was okay with that. Maybe not as okay with it as he could have been, but okay with it all the same. They were home, and together, and that made the son of Hades content.

                   And he supposed if someone asked if he was content in the Hive as well, he would say yes. He was comfortable here, with enough money to get him by and a warm bed to crash into when he needed to. So, was he happy? On some level, he supposed he was. And so, swiping up the food bag and the steaming cup of coffee the counter girl left for him, Nico headed for the seating area, sticking a warm french fry in his mouth as he went, motorcycle keys swinging from one finger. His combat boots thumped against the floor as he walked, and the demigod perused the crowd of people with dark eyes with little interest.

                   Until he saw it. Saw her. Dark hair that curled at her temples, smooshed down by a old-style newsboy hat. Olive skin the shade that his own used to be, and dark almond-shaped eyes that mirrored his own. Nico’s entire body went rigid, muscles locking up even as his eyes widened, mouth half-opening as an expression almost like desperation came over his face. The coffee cup slipped from his fingers to smash onto the ground beside him, and Nico heard shouts of annoyance from around him. But he didn’t care. Not now. Not with her sitting right there, looking exactly the same as when he’d last seen here.

          Reaching forward, a firm grips comes down onto his shoulder, which makes him stop and stiffen. He must be alarmed at the sudden physical contact, though he should calm down once he sees who it is. She’s not really a face that someone could forget even if they wanted to. As he starts to turn, her hand is taken off of his shoulder and goes back to her side, ❝ You remember me, don’t you? ❞ As best as she tries to look unassuming and friendly, she can’t help it that there’s just that little bit of ‘You had better remember me.’ in her tone.

          ❝ I never did catch your name that night. ❞ Maybe because she’d like to forget it.

[ TEXT ] Is it? [ TEXT ] When you look at some of the people in this city, I’m not so sure.

Okay, so he’s cleared that up pretty quickly. There’s clearly no amiable feelings here, and you have to wonder now if it’s genuine hatred or if it’s just some normal teenage anger at everything. Well, either way.

[txt] i guess when you think about it [txt] this place is pretty weird

Nico’s relationship with Ayato, if you could even call it one, was definitely a touchy subject. He was pretty sure they never would have been friends even if they didn’t hate each other, but the fact that they did was still an annoyance. When you already had so much hate in your life, piling on more always seemed to hurt.

“Sure. He wins and people die.”