Ȏṅċє Ȗƿȏṅ Ѧ Ṭıṃє

Nico

The island streets were bustling and full of people dressed in a mix of rags and worn leather, all most likely pre-owned by someone on the mainland since the islanders received next to nothing new. Old and used things were things they were used to on the island. It was all anyone who was part of the newer generations had ever known, so there was nothing else they were ever accustomed to anyway.

Nico hid in the shadows and nabbed anything he thought useful out of the baskets and pockets of unsuspecting passers-by, thinking it was easier, and cheaper, than actually going up to one of the market stands and buying something from the dingy salesperson. Plus, this way he wouldn't have to talk to anybody.

Nico had always prided himself on his thievery and pickpocketing skills. Never before has he ever been caught. Sure, he'd been caught in the act before, but he'd never actually been caught caught, like legitimately grabbed and forced to give the item back after a quick hit and before being thrown to the floor. While Nico was a well-known thief on the island, he knew he'd never be quite as good as the son of the sea-witch. Percy Jackson always had a knack for swiping things right from under people's noses without them even noticing, so everyone knew to watch their pockets around him. But Percy always found a way anyway. He'd even managed to steal Nico's heart, which was no easy task to fulfill.

Nico tried to keep Percy out of his mind at all costs, however. Percy was a distraction, he told himself. It was wrong and a distraction from what truly mattered: being the baddest person he could be. Being evil ran in the family. His mother was the biggest, baddest, most evil villain who ever lived, after all. Maleficent was a hard example to live up to. It didn't help that he had an older sister, who was praised even more than Nico could ever hope to be. That made two shadows that he was stuck standing in, but no matter. Nico didn't care anyway. He had a reputation with the people already, so who cared if his mother was impressed? Who cared if Bianca got more attention from Mother? Who cared? Certainly not Nico, if that's what you were thinking. He was feared by most, and that was good enough, right?

The island was filled to the brim with villains and their children, and sometimes even their children's children. The island was called the Island of the Forgotten, because that's just what the villains were, forgotten. They were banished there by the mainlanders so they wouldn't have to deal with them anymore. So they could forget about them and the problems they've caused. To ensure this the island was surrounded by a huge magic sphere, dome, bubble thing, the only magic the island would ever see.

"Hey!" a girl yelled as Nico snagged a bag of stale bagels from her. He took off down the street, ignoring the girl shout after him using some pretty colorful language. That was enough for today, anyway, he thought, noticing his full pockets.

He kept running until he reached his house, or rather castle, since it technically was a castle.

Ignoring his sister's quick hello, he went straight to the kitchen to put away the stuff he'd scored from the market.

"It's nice to see you, too," Bianca called from the other room. "What'd you get from the market?"

"Food," Nico replied, not really in the mood for interactions today.

"Please, Nico," Bianca chided, "I know you grabbed some things other than food. Now tell me what you got."

Nico rolled his eyes, even though he knew she couldn't see them. "Fine," he huffed, turning around to face her. Her hair was in a braid today, the green streaks standing out against the dark almost-black purple of most of her hair. The style of her purple and black plaid skirt clashed with the black leather jacket she was wearing, but she never really cared. She put a hand on her hip, waiting for Nico to spill.

He sighed and pulled the box of colored pencils he'd stolen from the hands of a child out of the inside pocket of his bomber jacket, mostly in good condition and already sharpened. Bianca raised a questioning eyebrow at him. Nico rolled his eyes once more, taking a small notebook from his other pocket.

"These are in almost new condition," Bianca said, picking up the box of pencils. "I, uh, I bet you'll draw a pretty picture with these." She tossed them back to Nico, who fumbled a little before gripping them in his hands.

"Thanks," he said before heading up to his room. He knew Bianca was trying not to be too nice. He didn't take it personally. Being nice just wasn't a villainly thing to do. He also knew she was trying not to show him too much affection, for fear that their mother might have been listening in or something. Love was also not a very villainly thing either. Another reason Nico always pushed Percy Jackson out if his mind. Villains don't love anyone. They can't love anyone.

But sometimes, Nico liked to think that somewhere, deep in her pit of a heart, Mother really did care for him, even just the slightest bit.

Rushed ending, I know, and I'm sorry. I'm becoming a lazy writer QmQ