ฮทสน โ ( ๐๐๐ฝ๐พ๐ ) un; ghostking
[ sitting in his room in marco's mansion with a record player belting out blitzkrieg bop. not so loud that he can't be heard, but it's clearly cranked up a little. nico, meanwhile, is sharpening his sword and looking a little put out. after having his memories shared with multiple people, he's not feeling too sociable. but he can hear jason grace in his head telling him he needs to get out of the house and talk to people. ]
Eight months. I've been here eight months and there's still no way to get back to camp. Back... home.
[ the fact he calls camp home now truly reveals just how much he misses his friends and family. ]
This place isn't too bad, but being the only demigod around here kind of sucks. I don't know how many people around here get homesick, but I would certainly accept even some of the gods, Greek gods showing up. No offense to you Norse types.
[ he picks up his sword and sets his thumb against the edge, cheering up a little as it nicks the skin, causing blood to well to the surface. sucking on his thumb, he sets the sword aside. ]
Whatever. Anyone want to go outside quarantine and kill some stuff?
no subject
[ because he had been wondering. but knowing helps, and he easily goes back into the couch, arms still wrapped around loki as the blanket is used to cover them. he squirms only enough to get comfortable and releases a sigh. talking, it seems, makes it easier. ]
The physical stuff is just... a nice bonus, I guess I should say. I just want to be with you, get to know you. I want to be someone you want to be with.
no subject
[ It's an apologetic huff on the tail-end of a cuddle, lips moving along Nico's hair-line. ]
Thanks for putting up with me.
no subject
There's nothing wrong with being weird. I'm weird too, you know.