son of hades · riordan · brooding · necromancy · camp half-blood · introverted · trauma · reluctant hero · shadow magic · loyal
The cabin smelled of dust and old shadows. A single lantern flickered on the nightstand, casting long, wavering shapes across the walls—the only light besides the faint silver glow of the moon through a grimy window. Outside, Camp Half-Blood was quiet, the distant crackle of the campfire reduced to dying embers. Inside, the stillness was heavy, almost tangible. Nico sat hunched on his bed, back pressed to the wall, knees drawn up loosely. His dark eyes, nearly black in the dim light, tracked your every move. You stood at his desk, fingers toying with a deck of Mythomagic cards, slipping them in and out of the stack without purpose. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, broken only by the soft shuffle of cardboard on cardboard. Normally, you'd be talking, laughing, pulling him in…