Author's note: I'M BACK! to the PJO fandom at least. This is an idea that has been bugging me for ages, so I decided to post my half-assed prologue to get my ass into gear to write this. It's basically kind of Nico's story, where he came from, where he went, where he 'will' go. Also an excuse for me to make as many 'will' jokes as I can.
Warning: Implied! Solangelo. Like very very 'implied'. And implied! unrequited Perico. I understand that Nico being is gay is part of character and influences a lot of his history, but the poor babe is literally in denial the whole fucking time and by time he gets his head of his ass he has to deal with the shitshow that is about appear in the horizon. Hint, it's about his maternal family ;) Also, if I treat this subject insensitively in anyway, please let me know.
Warning 2: This is literally partially prose and partially diary form. It's weird, I'm experimenting, and Nico is my unwilling participant.
Warning 3: Nico curses. A lot. Like a whole fucking lot. And he will eventually start speaking Italian. (mind you it'll be from google translate and y'all will hate me.)
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own PJO. If I did, I would adopt Nico di Angelo and give him the happiness he deserves. Hell I adopt all of them, 'cause my poor babies suffer so much. Like damn Rick you're harsh.
Prologue
He watched as the cars passed by. The lights reflected off his face.
Green. Yellow. Red.
Standing in the dark alley, he was invisible to the others.
But they were visible to him.
The poor woman who was dragged down the sidewalk by her dog, who was busy curiously sniffing the fire hydrant. Her hair threatened to slip out of her ponytail as she continued to tug the leash in attempt to calm the dog, who now distracted by the loud barking in the nearby park.
The dog started barking loudly back at the other dogs, tugging against the leash even harder as the lady nearly fell over trying to stop him. Cars honked as she ran quickly to catch up when the dog decided to sprint across the lanes, too excited to wait for his owner.
The commotion went unnoticed by the harried man carrying a briefcase, who was urgently talking through the phone, clearly in dispute with whoever was on the other side of line. At one point he started yelling at the phone, as thumped his suitcase onto his car roof, fishing through his pockets for his keys.
He suddenly stilled, pausing his yelling, and then mumbled back into the phone.
Finally pulling out his keys, he puts the phone in the nook between the shoulder and neck, still talking but in a much more measured tone. He fumbled through opening the car door, picking up the suitcase and throwing it onto the back seat as he hastily got into the car, still deep in conversation with whoever was on the phone with him.
A group of teenagers rode by on their cheap skateboards, goofing off and whooping every time one of them did some elaborate skateboard trick. They looked like they came straight out of the nearest Hot Topic, probably believing that it made them oh so cool.
They mock-fighted each other, pushing and pulling each other in the form of some messed up teasing. Some of them just coasted nearby, laughing at the show.
But none of them spared a glance at him.
They were all busy with their own lives, homes to go to, responsibilities to fulfill.
They all had their own problems to take care of.
Albeit it wasn't as if he was conspicuous enough, he was hiding in the alley anyway. Wearing all black was certainly helping, and his pallid coloring made him resemble more ghost than human.
But that didn't matter, because one of the teens nearly fell off his skateboard when trying some stupid trick that involved flying off the curb, his friends quickly lunging to grab him before the cars started to move again.
The incident caught the attention of the whole group, who all huddled around him. The aforementioned teen just laughed and waved their attention away, making false promises of never doing that again.
He tore his gaze from the street, looking upwards at the evening sky. He took a deep breath, and closed his eyelids.
After a moment, he opened his eyes, staring up at the heavens, as if he were questioning it.
But the heavens gave no answer.
Looking down, he fishes through the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a cigarette and a lighter. It was a bad habit he needed to kick, but at times like these he could not help but fall back into the embrace of nicotine.
After a few flicks of the lighter, he manages to light the end of his cigarette, slowly inhaling the harsh chemicals.
Releasing a smoky breath, he watched as the airy chemicals puffed out of his mouth, curling into grey swirls that twirled up until it dissolved with the cold air.
He looked back at the busy street, dragging the cigarette a few more times.
The lady and the dog were still in the park judging by the sounds of the barks, the man's car was long gone with another car parked in that spot, and the teens' laughter was long faded away.
His body stilled for a moment, as if debating whether he should stay and watch or leave. But another glance at the sky told him that it was time to go back.
It was his turn to get back to his own life.
He sighed, throwing the cigarette butt down, crushing it with the heel of his boot. He shoved his shaking hands into his jeans pockets, and then turned around, vanishing into the shadows.
...
Well that was dramatic. And I'm not even a child of Apollo. I'm glad I'm not. It's already enough that Will- never mind.
I should probably introduce myself.
Hello bitches, name's Nico Di' Angelo.
Residential asshole speaking right here.
I was given this stupid-ass diary by a certain daughter of Athena, who thought it would "beneficial" for me to write down all my thoughts and memories. And then a stupid ray sunshine refused to shut the fuck up when he caught wind of this, doubled teamed with my sister, so I ended up having to write in this.
I've always been alone.
My mother and older sister died, my relationship with my father is problematic at best, no comment about my 'step-mother', and my maternal family could probably give no fucks about me. I do have Hazel, but she lives all the way across the country. I have friends, I guess, but they have their own lives that they're busy with.
But they occasionally barge into my life and drag me around. They call it an intervention from becoming too "emo".
And apparently their form of intervention involved 2 am trips to Walmart for ice cream as a makeup gift to his PMS-ing girlfriend, only to end up being chased by a not-so-friendly harpy who was stalking the parking lot.
And after all that trouble, the dumbass somehow manages to get the very flavour she's allergic to.
Or waking up to your cabin on fire in the name of science. Apparently he was experimenting on organic beings now, and decided he should test my reaction time my cabin 'catching' on fire.
Or being forced to play dress up for the Aphrodite cabin. Ugh. Founded my deep hatred for all things neon. They thought I need some color in my life.
They thought wrong.
I don't even want to think about our residential ray of sunshine. Asshole gets me into way to me awkward situations than I can count.
Gods know what's wrong with all of them. Must be 'cause of all that the inbreeding.
Anyway, back on track. What was I doing again? Oh yeah, introducing myself. Oh hell, why don't I just start from the begin again.
So hi, I'm Nico and this my story.
(...and I sound like one of those pre-teen girls.. Which I am not. I am just an angsty fellow with a lot of angst. You know, like Harry Potteresque angst. Angst. Damnit Annabeth, now I'm making references to pop culture.)
Author's note: And that's a wrap! Well not really, I'm pretty sure I'll come back two years later and re-write all of this.
Smoking is bad y'all, avoid it like the plague and don't follow bad boy Nico's example. Lucky he has that doctor of his ;)
If you find any errors please tell me! And please go ahead an criticize the shit out of this 'cause I am! But please constructive criticism, because no matter what Leo says, flames are bad!
Please Fav/Follow/Review :3
~acrazyfangirl4