#goldsmithed

“Hey, Nico.” He says after a bit, not looking at her, eyes glued to his mechanical hand draped on the arm of the sofa, “...serious question. Do you...” he trails off, hesitant. “See me more as a human, or a demon?”

It’s been a while since any familiar faces have shown up when he makes his rounds of the hole during the eclipse. But he would know that voice anywhere. Nero perks and turns to the source, approaching without hesitation, no smile on his face, but a spirit that soars when he spots her.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he says, sliding over the hood of the taxi that came to collect her, spreading his arms wide in a gesture that might be mistaken as an invitation for a hug to anyone else. “Welcome to hell, Nico.”

TO: Nico ( @goldsmithed​ ) FROM: Nero

As he finishes the sentence, a window breaks from a building overhead, and Nero leaps from above-- but this time, he’s not hurtling himself out with no game plan. He jumps, landing on the rooftop that she’s been waiting for him on with a stumble and a snarl, rising back to his feet to turn back to the shattered window frame as an ugly, shapeless creature struggles to wriggle its way out. Nero gives Nico a side glance, gripping Red Queen tight, and speaks between his gasps for breath: “You can knock ‘em around, but nothing... nothing seems to work ‘cept to slow ‘em down. Any bright ideas? You-- you’re the idea girl.”