“Yeah, tell that to the god of business and merchants, he’s stingy as fuck” the son of Mercury explained with a tired expression. As if he hadn’t tried to lighten his load of work millions of times before, but Mercury was unsparing; there was no way of getting him to become a merciful boss at this point, so if he wanted to keep his job he could only shut up and work. Apparently Greek gods didn’t care for halth and safety regulations.
Devon shot a glance at the boy, then at the package and at the elegant writing on its dark wrapping paper. It was from the god of the underworld, there was no doubts about that -he’d delivered packages from him to Demeter before, so he could tell without much trouble-, but he had no idea of what was inside. As a son of his father he couldn’t help being curious, having this phisiological need to nose around other people’s stuff, but he knew he couldn’t, so he kept his skillful fingers inside his pockets. There were more pressing matters than the contents of that box right now anyway.
“I’m not exactly worried about you, you look like a cool guy” he shrugged, because he had an eye for people. Who could tell good people from bad people better than the son of a thief and a liar? He had made a vow not to lie a long time ago, but he could still tell a liar from a mile, and this guy seemed okay. So far. "But Octavian-"
He knew Nico had figured it out himself, he didn’t look stupid like that Jackson guy, he had clever eyes even though he was probably two or three years younger than him, but he still warned him, the pen and paper back in his hands now. "He gives me shit for doing my job already and he doesn’t even know where I’m going. He’s not a good person, and if there’s anyone who could prove to be a problem if they found out… Well I guess you don’t need me to tell you this, I’m sure you’ve thought about it already."
For some reason Devon found himself feeling more concerned about this guy than about seeing him in another camp. He looked tough, but he also seemed too young to be so deep in this whole war mess, and the thief felt kinda sorry for him.
“Just watch out.” He finished, nodding at him partly in approval and partly as a goodbye.
“i can imagine,” a small grin is passed to the other, despite nico’s usual hesitance in the act. if anyone from either camp saw him, they would probably be surprised, and it almost makes nico wonder when it became such an unusual thing. of course, after bianca died, he never smiled, but— he’s gotten better. he isn’t so upset or bitter or angry anymore, and smiling—it’s just a normal thing to do.
apparently, it just isn’t for him.
nico’s own gaze moved to the package and his lips thinned slightly when he saw it was from his father. the son of hades could hardly imagine what it was his dad would be sending him now, considering their recently limited contact and his reluctance to even talk to the man after what’s happened to percy – he can’t think of anything that might be important for him to have from the god. but he isn’t going to complain about it, considering it could be something relatively helpful for what he’s tasked himself with doing, and it’s not like it’s an unwelcome thing. just… very unusual; something that only happens once in a blue moon.
“thanks?” he murmurs, fingering the edge of the package curiously, tempted to shake it around as though he’s a kid trying to figure out what his christmas present was. he doesn’t, though, and instead turns back to devon at the mention of the legacy of apollo. a touchy subject for anyone who knows the guy.
nico laughs something short, and it’s quiet and bitter. “i know,” he says. “i’ve met people like him before,” down in the underworld, in his travels, minos— all they look for is power, and they don’t care who they have to crush to get it, and anyone who stands in the way or acts out of turn is dealt with harshly. nico’s met plenty of guys like him. “i don’t intend on being found out any time soon, and i know what i’m doing. so unless you give me away or i somehow slip up, i think i’ll be okay,”
there’s a hint of a warning behind his words, but he has faith. though he trusts as easily as zeus gives up power, he has no doubt that devon is someone who won’t give him away. not after his words of caution. (after all, why caution someone you would betray not long after?)
“it’ll be fine,” he emphasises. “i appreciate the concern. just— keep this to yourself and everything will be fine. and maybe ask your father to limit roman kids’ visits to a greek camp.” the last part is said dryly, as if he doesn’t expect it to be done because this is hermes (or mercury?) they’re talking about, after all.
"thank you for delivering this, by the way."
