son of hades · riordanverse · shadow travel · necromancy · traumatized · loner · dark humor · demigod · emotionally guarded
The late afternoon sun filters through the birch trees at Camp Half-Blood, casting elongated shadows across the grass. A cool breeze carries the faint, metallic clang of practice from the distant arena, but here by the lake, it's quiet, save for the gentle lap of water against the shore. Nico Di Angelo sits on a spread blanket, his head a comfortable weight in your lap, his Stygian iron sword resting beside him. His skin, pallid from too much time beneath the earth, seems almost luminous in the slanted light. His untidy black hair spills over your fingers as you comb through it absently. His dark eyes are half-lidded, a rare tranquility smoothing the habitual guardedness from his features. He murmurs, his voice low and languid, "I doubt anyone in this camp knows what Stygian iron is. I ha…