Jason smirked, knowing fully well that he wouldn't get caught again. He doesn't ever get caught. The excited whoops of his best friends caught his ears and with the whistling in the wind, he couldn't have made the world better. A small explosion, and Piper clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.

"Seriously Leo? A bomb?"

"But only a small one. And it's halfway across the town," he defended. The blonde laughed, his little scar seemingly dancing.

"C'mon guys. Let's hit the road. We can hang out on the red roof, and I successfully got us dinner." Moments later, the trio was on the said roof, and Jason had given Leo and Piper their share of the bread; he turned his head when he heard a whimper. Scared, brown eyes widened further when their gazes met, and the young girl scampered away, slightly whimpering in fear.

"Hey, it's okay," Jason's voice was soft and almost pleading. "Here, have some food." The girl hesitantly took it into her smaller, paler hands before she bashfully looked up at him while taking a bite. He smiled at her kindly; she briefly returned it and quickly fled from the scene. Leo groaned. "Man, this is why we have to keep stealing more, with you and your hero complex."

"I don't have a hero complex," Jason defended. "I was just helping someone in need."

The Hispanic made a frantic arm movement. "You mean, other than us?" Piper giggled as Jason rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.

"I think your hero complex is cute." Jason huffed at this.

"I am most certainly not cute."

"Ittle wittle Jason just got called a cutie-pie. Does he need a hug?"

"Shut the hell up," his features a slight pink. "I'm not the one that hugs things when I'm asleep."

"H-hey. It's a natural tendency to cuddle when you're cold. Perfectly normal."

"Aww, does Leo need a warm hug?" The blonde replied in a teasing voice. "Fuck off," came the reply. The three friends laughed it off, the warmth of the sunset on their backs.

Meanwhile, a lithe figure clad in black silk paced his room in frustration and anger. But frustration, mostly. He started to mutter to himself: "Perché proprio a me, mi sento come se fossi in una prigione. Questo non è colpa mia, perché era mio padre Sultan? Cazzo segretario e sorella morta e la madre morta, perché sono ancora qui, ho ÉNED lasciare."

"Cazzo, I need to get out of here," he spoke to himself in an undertone, "I'm in a literal prison: high walls, no safe exits, watch day and night swarming over the place. Yes, much like a prince. With the joys of being practically chained to his room." There was a knock on the door and Nico di Angelo swiftly jumped onto his bed, pretending to not be planning to escape. Once again.

"Yes?"

"The Sultan asks for you to come and join him and Miss Persephone for dinner." A servant called behind the doors.

"Tell them I'm not hungry!" The teen yelled back. He shook his head before his thoughts got even more gloomy, depressed and nostalgic. He really wasn't in the mood to eat comfortably with his almost nonexistent father and soon-to-be stepmother.

"Yes, sir."

As the footsteps down the halls scurried away until they were nothing but silence, the son of Hades soon paced his floor again. "Now, how am I going to escape these walls? I can't climb without being caught, and it's not like I can fly or dig my way out of he-" he stopped mid-sentence. "I can shadowtravel out of here. Why was I such an idiot?" The pale teen mentally smacked himself and wondered why the thought hadn't come to him earlier; well, this was the first time that he really wanted to flee the walls for another place, and the only time he took himself seriously.

He hastily looked around the room or thing that he might need for his ongoing journey. He needed a weapon, and a disguise, not his normal clothes. He looked at his toga-like clothes. He smirked. "Goodbye dresses, my gods."

He quickly changed into a thin shirt, trousers, and took off his shoes, walking around barefooted. He was use to walking around the palace barefooted sometimes as a mean of defiance. He nearly jumped out of his skin when another knock came from the door.

"Your father clearly wants you to join him at the dinner table. Why don't you?" Nico could almost hear the sneer in the voice.

"I thought I already conveyed the message," he growled lowly, "I'm not hungry."

"Nico, you can't shut yourself inside your room all day. You need some company."

"Just watch me, Octavian! If you really have nothing else to do, join your kin, the pigs!" The offender huffed indignantly and Nico's thin lips curved into a grin with the satisfaction. Now where was he?

Disguise. Something to hide his face and, obviously, his weapon on choice. A black cloak would suffice. He grabbed the material and draped it over his shoulders, then attaching the belt to his loose trousers and attaching his sword to his belt. He looked at himself through the mirror. He couldn't see his normal self; no stick-skinny limbs or flowing black toga which made him trip with it's size. Oh and one more thing; he quickly cut a strip from his cloth shirt and made a little ring with it. He pulled his shoulder-length hair up and pulled it into a small, messy ponytail. Done.

He closed his eyes and thought of the gates outside, viewed perfectly in his mind as they were seen daily outside of his only window. Which, naturally, had wire over it to keep him from 'falling out' (aka leaving). He felt a whoosh over his body as he found himself right outside the gates, his back to the fancily bent metal of intricate loops and designs.

Pulling the cloak's hood over his head and being certain that his face was mainly concealed with shadow, he took off, the setting sun warming his back in compliment of his jailbreak. Now all he had to do was stay missing forever.

Jason woke up to shouting. Well, it was more of chatter that consisted of everyone on the street talking to one another but when you grow up in the street as a thief, you can't help but think that everything related to opening your mouth with sound coming out of it was screaming. Especially a stall owner's voice.

He cautiously edged down the roof and peered over the edge, running a hand through his blonde hair. Something seemed to be up. A brunette ran to his mother and excitedly jumped up and down, waving energetically with his hands. Those kind of family scenes always made Jason frown; he himself couldn't remember anything about his childhood, but he usually laughed it off. The frown slipped off his face to make way to a curious 'O'.

"Mommy! Is it true? Is it true that the Sultan's son went missing? The creepy dude?" The mother shushed him, but Jason couldn't help but see the playful glint in her dark-colored eyes.

"Shh! What if someone hears? You're going to be in big trouble," the mother explained and continued to hang the still-wet clothes. The boy frowned.

"But it's true. And you always tell me, 'no matter how much the truth hurts, it's best to tell it'! Mommy," he shook clung to her leg to get her attention. Jason sneezed and quickly left the scene to avoid any unwanted attention. The blonde wondered if there was a time in his lifetime like that- he couldn't dwell too much on that fact because he had to juggle his friendships, survival methods, and amnesia.

He looked at the newly risen sun and squinted as he remember the conversation from the night before. Piper had said that she was going to visit her father, a wealthy man from another country, and Leo had went to the mechanic shop to look for a decent job. He's bound to get it, Jason thought dismissively, he builds his own bombs. Now he only needed to get a stall to grab some food from...

Nico grinned. He was quite enjoying the free time and lost burden from his shoulders of being Sultan's son. Out in the streets, he was a nobody, just a slightly ominous nobody in a cloak. He strolled past several dark alleys and immediately decided that this was the not-so-well part of the neighborhood; cracked walls over time, dust and sand blowing aimlessly through the streets and people who were looking for an opportunity to live. In other words, money. He doubled his pace, not wanting to get caught with a gang of tough-looking men, towering over him and with the strength to break his arm like a toothpick, probably. Shadowtraveling would instantly give him away, if his appearance didn't, so that was a big no-no. His weapon was off limits unless he was in dire need of it- not that he did most of the time.

He turned the corner when a strong grip held his forearm, pulled it out of his cloak, and swung him over so he faced the ringleader. His breath smelled of foul alcohol as he bent down to jeeringly talk next to Nico's hood.

"My, what have we got here?"

"Looks like a chick, if I'm correct," another taunting voice called out from the other half-dozen. There were seven, and all crowded to one side, and three who aren't concentrated on this. So he could distract one while fighting off two, max, and hope he'd get lucky on the fourth one. He cursed under his breath. "What'd you say?" The pale teen tried to deepen and strengthen his voice into an adult's when he replied; a trick that he learned when watching his father confer with ambassadors from the neighboring regions.

"I'm not a chick, if you can clearly think." Suddenly, his cloak was pulled back and a meaty hand pulled his chin up to stare into one of their eyes. He set his jaw defiantly.

"Well, certainly not a chick, but we could do with you."

"Let's see if he has some -" silence and tension was high in the air as Nico spit into the gang leader's face. The effect was instantaneous.

"Why you little-" Using the gang leader's anger to his advantage, he put all his weight into the thrust and punched him as hard as he could in the gut. In a split second, the Sultan's son slammed the side of his hand onto the man's ear. The tall man staggered a bit before coming to realize what had happened. However, that gave Nico enough time to dodge the rest of them and quickly flee to a nearby staircase leading to the roof of a building.

"Red snake!" And without looking back, the teen could tell that everyone had come tumbling after him, eager to beat him up. A quick check made sure that his sword was there, but for now, he could stick to running away. His nimble footsteps gave way to heaving pounding almost equivalent to a stampede. His eyes scanned the nearby roofs and walls for an escape route: there!

An open window with a supporting beam next to it with a wire that probably held his weight. If done right, he could use the cloak to slide down the wire, kick the pole, and slide into the window. Inspecting the surrounding buildings, he could guess that it wasn't a house. Oh well, luck of the draw. He quickly but efficiently slid down the wire. He looked down and swallowed. The height made him dizzy and he saw two teen girls look up at the racket. He simply hoped that he wouldn't be recognized.

Nico almost slammed into the pole when he kicked with all of his weight and easily slid his thin frame into the open space. A gang member cursed as he quickly started to make his way down the building and up and onto the next building, where the forge was located.

Two figure stood gaping at the newcomer. Some customers held grand entrances, but this was like none seen before. Looking around the room and hearing the heavy footsteps of the gang members. The pleading look in his eyes made a short Hispanic open a closet door and waved impatiently with his hand. He rolled his large eyes while his brown curls bounced around his elvish ears.

"Well, you getting in or not?"

With a nod of gratitude, Nico snuck inside the forge's closet, forcing himself to become nothing more than a small, tight bundle of nerves, ready to bolt. The other girl who he saw brandishing a hammer, who was hardly older than himself, was heard through the closet door. Nico closed his eyes and imagined her cocoa-colored skin and large lips pursed in annoyance.

"This is a business, and we are a forge, which is a place dealing with weapons and metals and fire. If you're not going to be careful, I'll be more than glad to knock your head on properly with a hammer." Nico gulped and grinned. The hammer that had briefly passed over his view looked extremely heavy and fatal. "Now git, before I have to convince you to do it!" Whistling was heard, and the Sultan's son was pretty sure that it came from the Latino.

When the footsteps were clearly gone, the Sultan's heir sighed and tried to open the door, but it was opened as it leaned forward so he tumbled on top of the Latino that had helped conceal him. They gracelessly crashed onto the hard wooden floor and looked like they played a hopeless game of Twister. The girl chuckled in amusement, and helped the two up which almost sent the two sprawling again.

"Yea, now you can be on your way. Those gangs annoy the hell out of me, but soon, I'll have to kick you out soon." Nico lifted his head from the ground and thanked them earnestly, nodding his head slightly with the words. But her next words almost made Nico's heart stop. "Hey, you look familiar."

"I was thinking the same thing," Leo nodded his head and thought for a bit. "Are you from these areas?" The prince's heart pounded.

"Uh, not so far out, but pretty far from here, but I don't think I've met you two before. Anyways, bye," and he fled the scene, quickly submerging himself into the crowd a couple streets down. The different stall owners shouted objects and prices, projects and sales. The bright lights and loud yelling and constant chatter of the street gave him a pounding headache, but he had to get through this section to earn some peace and quiet, and Nico believed that he deserved that mu- Something wrapped around his legs on accident, and he looked down at his bare feet.

Brown eyes identical to his met his and his breath escaped him. There was no way that this small, skinny girl was Bianca, but the features were the same: pale face slightly tanned with freckles splashed against her cheeks and nose, pale red lips and large, brown eyes. Those eyes looked as if they belonged to an adult, not a simply child. Nico crouched down on one knee and gently faced the girl.

"Hey, what's your name?" Bianca- no, not your sister, he corrected himself- shrugged and her cheeks grew red when her stomach growled. Not-Bianca looked away but he whispered to her. "I'll get you some bread," as he had spied a stall on the other side of the street. "Just keep out of sight."

Nico knew that if he shadowtraveled, then his disguise would not be effective and those around him would immediately know. So he would have to do with stealth. Using the crowd as an advantage, he waiting until he was immediately adjacent to the bread cart, and pretended to be interested in some scarves in the stall next to it.

Nico eyed the bread pile with his peripheral vision, and reached his hand for one to give the little girl. Her wide, chocolate-brown eyes called for help, silent pleas that could only make him think, 'Was that how Bianca looked when she died?' He picked up the loaf, but felt another force tug it the other way. His eyes shot up in surprise, and deep, dark almost-black brown eyes met electric sky-blue ones.