#Pebble the Satyr

[blueiscoool]

Archaeologists Discover Rare Pebbled Mosaic Featuring Naked Satyrs

Archaeologists excavating in ancient Eretria have discovered a pebbled mosaic floor featuring two naked satyrs.

Eretria was founded on the Greek island of Euboea, emerging as an important polis and trading centre from the 6th and 5th century BC.

The city was described as being involved in several significant historical events. It was listed by Homer in the Iliad as one of the Greek cities which sent ships to fight in the Trojan War.

During the Ionian rebellion against Persia in 499 BC, Eretria and Athens sent aid to their Ionian allies, resulting in the burning of Sardis, the capital of the Persian satrapy of Lydia.

Recent excavations by the Greek Ministry of Culture have unearthed a building near the sanctuary of Daphniforos Apollo, the “Quarter of the Panathenaic Amphorae” and the “House of the Mosaics”.

Within the building interior, archaeologists found a mosaic floor made from natural pebbles, with surviving walls on the south and east sides. The mosaic features a circular black medallion and two naked satyrs, a nature spirit with ears and a tail resembling those of a horse.

Satyrs were considered companions of the god Dionysus, which were thought to inhabit woodlands, mountains, and pastures. The Romans identified satyrs with their native nature spirits, fauns, often shown as a half-human and half-goat creatures.

Excavations also found a raised floor to the north and east sides of the room where reclining couches were likely placed. According to the archaeologists, the room dates from the 4th century BC and served as a banqueting space for celebrations and gatherings.

The area of the building was used as a cemetery during the early Christian era (5th to 6th century AD), where five tombs have been identified within the interior, and five more tombs adjacent to the exterior south wall.

By Mark Milligan.

[pistachiozombie]

[Satyr Glades] Princess Leanna and Boru's little sapling, Myrra, nicknamed Pebble ♥ she blep

[qupritsuvwix]

http://www.thehistoryblog.com/archives/70843

[hoofpeet]

I LOVE HOOFOLOGY ENERGY DRINK LORE !!!!!!! What would you say lamblock and catscratch taste most similar to? just their plain flavor

I imagine the default flavor for satyr stuff is like matcha/very salty green tea (Though as a fun fact, bovines are sometimes fed skittles irl, so there are also more candy-like flavours) - meanwhile Catscratch kinda tastes like fruity pebbles milk

[captainremmington-13]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 - 𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖎𝖓 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞

show!Luke Castellan x daughter of thanatos!reader

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the image above or any of Rick Riordan’s characters/world-building.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: attempted murder, swearing, parental neglect, overall sad vibes

A/N : this post is to set up context for the rest of the series (i have to set up the lore so everything makes sense lmao). this is my first time writing for luke, i promise i’ll get better at it with time :))

you essentially grew up at camp, having arrived at the young age of five

monsters began creeping their way into your life ever since you learned to speak. death seemed to be drawn to you.

first was the dracanea disguised as a nanny that tried to eat you while your mother was out of the house (she was a florist that prepared bouquets for funerals). you only survived because the dracanea was interrupted by your mortal older brother. when he saw you on the ground with the nanny about to wrap her hands around your tiny throat, he screamed so loud that the dracanea fled immediately. he then called the cops on her, but she’d long since disappeared. you were only three at the time.

the final straw was when an Aeternae attacked you on the preschool playground. it lept out from the large bushes near the fence and nearly ripped your face off. you would have died if your teacher, a satyr in disguise, hadn’t scared it off. 

your preschool teacher, Mr. Maciolli, escorted your to camp the next day. he had a long talk with your mother, who didn’t put up much of a fight to keep you at home. you attracted trouble that she had no time to deal with. 

with that, you were uprooted from your normal life and transported into the world of the Olympian gods. 

you were the youngest camper by far. the older campers took you under their wing, helping you adjust to camp life as best as they could. they gave you a wooden sword and taught you the basics of combat. they made sure to keep you away from anyone who could cause you harm. and most importantly, the many unclaimed demigods that you met while staying in Cabin 11 taught you that the gods didn’t give a flying fuck about their kids.

though it was difficult at first, you were happy. sure, you missed your mom sometimes, but you reminded yourself that she hadn’t been interested in keeping you around anyways. 

your first five years at camp were relatively peaceful. you developed your personality and learned your likes and dislikes, just like any “normal” kid. 

however, there were occasional incidents that were absolutely unexplainable. 

the worst one of all was this: a son of ares kept throwing pebbles at you while you were supposed to be picking strawberries. no matter what you said, he wouldn’t quit. after a particularly large pebble hit you in the back of the head, you turned around and screamed “stop it!”

the kid immediately collapsed, his skin turning pale. the other campers rushed him to the infirmary, and the apollo kids immediately got to work. 

they concluded that his heart had stopped. he had been dead to the world for almost a whole minute. if not for the nectar that had been poured down his throat, he probably wouldn’t have made it.

campers did their best not to anger you after that. nobody could explain what had happened, but clearly, you had caused the son of ares to have a close brush with death.

you were claimed by Thanatos, the god of death, at the age of ten. 

your social life turned on its head after that.

basically everyone except for Chiron and Mr. D avoided you like you were the walking Black Plague (which you kinda were)

after getting claimed, your powers increased. you could touch a small plant and kill it instantly if you wished to. wherever you sat, the grass would wither around you. you could even kill small animals with a simple touch (only if you wished it to die). 

nobody wanted to risk crossing you and getting killed. so nobody tried to get close to you. they would say the occasional “hello”, but that was it. 

you grew to resent not only your father, but all of the gods. they had everything, it seemed, while you had nothing. they didn’t even have the heart to check in on their own children. 

you learned to thrive without any companions. you spent your days sparring against invisible enemies, building muscle, and developing stamina. you rarely conversed with the other members of Cabin 11, staying in your bunk in the far corner of the cramped space. during your down time, you killed flowers, dried and pressed them, and used them to make collages. 

things were relatively stagnant for awhile.

until you turned fourteen. 

at age fourteen, luke castellan arrived at camp, and changed your life forever. 

Thank you for reading! Pls let me know what you think in the comments!!! I plan on making this a series, but I’m not sure how I’m going to format it yet. Stay tuned for the first official installment!

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist!

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Hello! I wanted to start off by saying thank you for your digitigrade humanoid references, they've been super helpful for drawing my sheep-satyr oc!

I was wondering though, do you have any resources for writing nonhuman creatures? Specifically when referencing the nonhuman aspects of them. For example I have this sentence that goes:

"I jumped to my hooves."

I don't have any frame of reference for this :/ so when I'm writing my oc talking about what she does with the sheep half of her body it sounds kind of off.

I looked on Youtube and online and just saw "Do some world building and give your nonhuman characters human traits," which isn't what I'm looking for.

Kindest Regards-

oh I am doing so much of this in my own writing. I think the trickiest part for me is that I'm trying to also add in the detail that most of the people species don't smile the way humans do, with exposed teeth and a wide mouth being more of a fear/threat response rather than a happy expression. so I keep having to force myself to describe happy expressions in different ways! this is quite challenging, for obvious reasons lol.

but beyond that, honestly I like to just focus on using their non-human body parts to help enhance their body language. my porcine orcs and gnomes wiggle their snouts. anyone with large ears can move them as an expressive body part. tails do all sorts of things!

I think using the phrase "I jumped to my hooves" works just fine! it shows the reader that your character has hooves. The hardest part of course is figuring out how to introduce the character's appearance as early as possible to avoid too much confusion. Looking at my own writing, opening on a scene of a gnomish character, I didn't mention her ears until a few paragraphs in, and her hooves didn't get mentioned until several paragraphs after that. I'm still trying to scan through and find where I introduce her snout lol. it's really hard! and sometimes just using illustrations is unfortunately not possible.

But I think as long as you remember to mention different body parts when they're relevant and using them in the general body language, you'll be just fine. A few things I've been doing with this gnomish character include:

mentioning that she catches a pebble between her cloven toes

using her snout as an expressive body part

writing scenes where she needs to have her hooves trimmed because they grow perpetually

writing scenes where she files down her tusks, because she's also a quarter orc and has some recessive genes that cause tusk growth in amab gnomes, so filing her tusks is one part of how I explore her relationship with her body and gender as a trans woman

I also have elves with long monkey-like tails, though I give them tail expression more similar to cats. Teeth can also be an important expressive body part, when applicable! baring sharp canines or moving one's head and mouth in a way that puts a large pair of tusks on full display is a great way to show things like fear, intimidation, or anger.

you can also study the body language of whatever animal you're using for reference, like sheep, and apply those details to the way you describe your character!

here is an article about sheep behaviors for reference!

and a few quotes with non-human body language from my own rough draft:

“K’arik is the one I’m worried for, not myself,” Morianon murmured, flicking his wings nervously. Evarin nodded, wrapping her arm around her husband’s waist. “I’m worried for him too.” They walked in silence, gravel and bark chips crunching under their feet as they made their way up the road. Evarin spread her hoofed toes with every step, willing a stone to catch between them. A cold pebble lodged itself in the crease between her toes just as they turned up the path to her parents’ door.

The stranger bent low, pushing their enormous three-toed feet over the threshold, ducking their head and reaching forward to pull themself inside. “What’s going on?” He-esh squinted and frowned. “Elkha, tell me what’s going on.” He tapped Th’elir’s arm, but she too had been caught by surprise and only mumbled as she tried to explain. Evarin stepped back towards K’arik, eyes wide. She glanced at her mother and saw her own shocked expression mirrored right back. As the stranger grunted and half-crawled through the low door, she saw her father escape the crowd and hurry to join her. “Can you believe—“ he whispered, but Tawei shushed him. The stranger’s body blocked the whole door as they finally fit themself through it and stood up. Even inside, they had to bend their neck to avoid the rafters, towering over the tallest orcs in the room. Four hooved feet, holding a body so heavy they sunk into the packed dirt floor. Legs as tall as a gnome. They wore layers of woven cloth, all green and brown and cedar red in beautiful leafy patterns, draped over their uncanny body that seemed to have two sets of ribs. Their arms were just skinnier versions of their forelegs, Evarin noticed. She could barely see their face in the shadows by the rafters. Morianon could see them better, perched above everyone else. His feathers shivered as the stranger noticed him, catching and holding his gaze. Their mouth was tense, their long ears laid flat against their head. Morianon glanced away and found Evarin’s eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “Forgive me,” the stranger said, bringing the murmur of the crowd to a dead hush, “for not announcing my arrival ahead of time.” They walked carefully forward, every step remarkably delicate for someone so massive. “I came to deliver my herd’s respects to you, He-esh.” “Oh? Ah, no, I do know you,” He-esh sat up with Th’elir’s help, clearing his throat. “Or perhaps this is an old man’s dying dream. Are you a spirit?” he laughed, “I never thought I’d live to see a centaur enter my village. I suppose it would have to happen on the last day of my life, wouldn’t it?” He smiled up at the centaur and welcomed them forward with an open hand.

Despite the difficulty, Kouto looked oddly chipper for an early morning and sat down in a hurry, tail curling playfully.

“I remember when he was a kid,” Nanji said, shaking his head, “he had a lot of potential. Shame to see him grow up into such a stubborn and angry fellow.” He passed the tray to Jen who set it on the central table. “I hate to blame anyone but him for his change of heart, but we all know it happened after he got married and moved to that other clan up north.” “He was very annoyed that He-esh wanted to die by song instead of the usual orcish tradition,” Mori said, “Kept giving Evarin nasty looks.” He ruffled his feathers and sat a little closer to his wife. “I was too nervous to pay him any mind,” Evarin assured him. Ikar’s irritated gaze had added to the nervousness, she admitted to herself, but it had been among the least of her worries.

Leaving the bedroom, Evarin was momentarily startled by the looming figure of Ikar at the hearth. She had been in such a hurry, she hadn’t noticed him on her way in. He gave her a sideways glance, lightly swirling the cup in his hand. “At’ali’s granddaughter, aren’t you?” he muttered. “That’s right.” Evarin tensed up defensively. Ikar humphed. “You look nothing like as’el. Must take after your father’s side more.” He sipped his drink and went quiet, turning away from her. Evarin’s snout wrinkled and grew hot, but she left the house without another word, shaking off his comment and breathing deep in the fresh air.

[alsadeekalsadouk]

New discovery: Archaeologists excavating in ancient Eretria, on the Greek island of #Euboea , have discovered a pebbled mosaic floor featuring two #satyrs . The city was described as being involved in several significant historical events. It was listed by Homer in the Iliad as one of the Greek cities which sent ships to fight in the Trojan War. Ref. https://www.heritagedaily.com/2024/08/archaeologists-discover-rare-pebbled-mosaic-featuring-naked-satyrs/152844 #archaeology #history #ancient #art #alsadeekalsadouk #ancienthistory #travel #archaeological #rome #italy #museum #roma #heritage #greek #arthistory #culture #antiquity

#4thcentury #photography #tetradrachm #greekcoin #greekarcheology #greekancientcoins #stater #الصديق_الصدوق

#Greek_mythology

[sugar-phoenix]

un-satyr.

I decided to swallow my perfectionism and just write out a short story without making it special or anything, just writing all the parts that I wanted to write and finishing. I might edit/add more but honestly I'm pretty happy with what I wrote and I wanted to share it.

tw: gore/violence, mentions of blood + wounds + pelting + pain

Sitting on the riverbank, I carefully brushed my platinum locks. They fell over my shoulders in strands, and on all sides of my head. I hated having my hair cut. If I could, I would wrap them around my horns to keep them out of my eyes. 

But I didn’t have horns.

I dipped my hooves into the water, and continued straightening out my hair until it no longer looked like I had tossed and turned all night. Only my family and the village doctor knew I had been suffering from terrible migraines. It was one more defect to add to my list of flaws. One more reason why I didn't belong. I hoped to hide my problems from the rest of the world.

Alas, brushing your hair out did not fix the dark circles under your eyes, and against my sickeningly pale skin, it was wildly obvious I was losing sleep.

I frowned as I felt a painful throb inside my skull. Why was I born this way? Blindingly white, horn-less, and now, having terrible migraines. Instead of being a regular, normal satyr, I was the village abomination.

I rose from the riverbank to walk.

The smell of the lavender field cleared my migraines a little bit and made it better. Here, I was further from the village, from the feeling of being out of place. Here, I belonged.

I laid in the grass and rested. 

And then they began to pelt me.

Younglings, picking up pebbles and throwing them at me. Telling me I was a freak, a monster. Taunting me with their little nubs of horns on their heads.

Although nobody had ever outright expressed their distaste of me in the village (fae such as us were loath to express anything that might make us seem ungraceful), the behavior of the children spoke volumes of what they thought of me. I rose from the lavender field. A pebble struck my forehead. I ran, blood dripping down my face.

The pain was immense. I clutched my forehead in bed, gently bandaged by my mother, and screamed as my father sent for the village doctor. It didn’t hurt this much initially, yet ever since I came home, the pain had only steadily increased. I struggled to hold still as the doctor unwrapped my bandage, checked my forehead, and reported nothing out of the ordinary. The pain was merely a product of the concussion combined with my migraines. Nonetheless, he re-bandaged it, and gave me a potion that was sure to knock me out as cold as a corpse.

I slept.

I woke up free of the pain that plagued me only hours ago, to a dry, crusty pillowcase. It was stained a deep, dark red. I gasped, and jumped up from my bed to inspect my wound in the mirror. 

My reflection’s eyes stared back at me, the eyebags underneath them gone. My skin glowed, pale as ever, yet it was… sparkling? The hair that fell around the wound was caked red, yet the rest of my hair flowed flawlessly. In between my bangs, I saw something else. Something new.

Ivory and pearlescent, it tore out of the bandages that had unknowingly held it back. A single, solitary horn.

dividers by @cafekitsune here. Header is Young Lady with Roses by The Bank of a Lake, Nathaniel Sichel, from this post here.

[gale-heart]

Somedays and Somewheres

((Cw: allusions to physical abuse/child abuse))

Eldre’thalas had been a decent city, once.

Once, the towering stones gleamed proud under the starlight, the gardens had been happy to stay contained and sculpted, and the Queen’s best and brightest sorcerers had thrived in this sanctuary of scholastic industry. It paled in the shadow of Zin-Azshari’s radiance, of course, but it still had been luxurious enough that most Highborne could have been reasonably comfortable—proud, even—to call it home.

Eldre’thalas didn’t have much left to be proud of these days. After Kalimdor shattered into pieces, the Shen’dralar hid under their barrier and managed to continue largely unchanged in their ways for a while. But once the loss of their magic source began to tell, and Immol’thar has been chained to feed their growing hunger pangs, the Highborne seemed content to let the rest of their home decay. A dedicated number still worked to preserve the library, but the majority had been slaughtered long ago to preserve Immol’thar’s waning strength for the favored few, and the remainder in their growing hunger turned largely apathetic to the beasts and demons that now infested the ruins of the abandoned quarters. Nobody worked anymore to repair the fallen stones, or the shredded and torn banners, and the single remaining garden was a verdant, weedy tangle overrun with untamed plant life almost as hostile as the ogres or satyrs.

Nowadays, those who were left from the olden days stagnated in their memories and addiction, and the new generation—so depressingly few in number—weren’t so concerned with their city’s history as they were with continuing their elders’ long and proud chain of (slightly less) bad decisions in a desperate attempt to relieve the tedium.

Suffice to say, said decisions were providing terrible results at the moment.

“Idiot! Don’t freeze it over, you’ll give us away!”

“Oh, yes, of course, why don’t I just leave it wide open for them to stroll in and kill us at their leisure!”

“Ilyssae, I’m pretty sure ghosts aren’t incapable of noticing a fresh wall of ice where it shouldn’t be—“

“Or maybe they’re too dumb to think anything of it because they’re STARS-DAMNED DEAD AND CAN’T THINK—“

A furious chorus of screaming and wailing startled the siblings out of their whisper-hissing argument. Both preteens froze, Kerrius still mid-grab for his sister’s casting hand and Ilyssae’s free hand shoving his face, neither daring to let out breath as four specters shrieked past the collapsed stair serving as their hiding spot. Only when the spirits were long gone from sight and their echoes silent did the pair exhale and release each other.

“So…” Kerrius whispered far more quietly this time, trying to ignore how high-pitched his voice came out. “We’re listening to me from now on, right? For real, this time?”

Ilyssae wrinkled her nose in a scowl, but at least she finally let the glow of magic dim from her palm. A pebble clattered underfoot as she scooted forward to peek out between the rubble they’d squeezed themselves through. “Think they’ll keep looking for us for a while?”

“No idea. I know they keep old grudges from when they died, but I’m not sure how well they make new ones. I really don’t think the fire helped—“

“Yes, alright, so I underestimated his constitution a little—“ Ilyssae tried to wave this off.

“Or catching those others in the blast—“

“You said you’d help me put them down if one spell wasn’t enough!”

“That was when it was two versus one, not two versus four!”

“WHATEVER. Listen, they’re gone now, let’s just make a run for it—“

Kerrius lunged and grabbed the back of Ilyssae’s dust-caked tunic as she made to squeeze back through the rocks. “Are you joking?! They could come back this way any second now! Let’s just give it a few more minutes—“

“We’re not even that far from the Atheneum!” Ilyssae reached back to swat half-assedly at his arm and missed by a wide margin. “If we’re fast enough, we’ll be back before they even turn around—“

“Or,” Kerrius interrupted, “the adults already know we’re gone—or they find out we snuck out again when we come back with angry ghosts on our heels, and then we both have to deal with Mother getting upset.”

Ilyssae stopped squirming for a moment, then opted to slide back inside the little alcove and slump back against a boulder.

“Maybe we can wait a little longer,” she conceded sullenly.

The twins moped in silence for a bit, two sun-starved sticks so small in their ill-fitted secondhand robes and so pale they could perhaps fleetingly be mistaken for some of the dead that roamed the place. Ilyssae fidgeted and scratched at her forearm, and Kerrius tried not to stare at the fresh bruises blossoming under her sleeve. They didn’t talk much about how much more frequent those were becoming. She’d made it clear by now that she’d much rather do anything else than discuss how Mother treated her during her lessons—even pull pranks on the local satyrs or ogres that backfired—and, in a horribly guilty way, seeing them made Kerrius glad to be ignored as much as he was. So instead he did his best to distract her with whatever lesser spells and knowledge he learned in his apprenticeship to Lorekeeper Skycrest, and in turn she tried to teach him the “important” magic, got them both into trouble, and generally treated him like he hadn’t been designated the unnecessary one.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was more than anybody else was doing for either of them, so they did the best they could to be enough for each other.

The stone floor was uncomfortably cold by the time Ilyssae spoke. “Do you ever think about what’s outside of here?”

Kerrius looked up from the loose thread he was picking at on his coat. “You mean…outside of Eldre’thalas?”

“Yes, and even beyond Feralas—not everything was destroyed in the Sundering, right? There are still people living just fine out there?”

Despite the Shen’dralar’s isolation, enough information had trickled in over the millennia to support that claim. They’d grown lax about trying to stay informed long before either of the twins were born, but Kerrius was fairly sure life in the rest of the world didn’t stop just because they stopped paying attention.

“That’s the general idea.” He squinted at her. “You weren’t ever interested before when I talked about the outside world. Why are you asking now?”

“Just curious.” Ilyssae pulled her sleeve back down her arm. Kerrius waited, sure that that wasn’t all, and sure enough she added: “About how different things are out there, I mean. What are their cities like, if magic is failing them like it did us, if all of this—“ She waved around at their surroundings. “—Is normal for everyone else, or if we’re the… I mean, are they happy with how their life is?”

Oh. Her voice had wobbled a bit at the end. Apparently this had become a thing they were going to talk about.

“I…don’t know?” Stars above, Kerrius really wasn’t sure how to answer. “I don’t think other places specifically depend on demons to stay alive, but…”

He trailed off. How were they supposed to know if anything that happened here was ‘normal’? It wasn’t like they were allowed out to visit other places and see how they lived—for all either of them knew, maybe things were worse out there and neither of them should be complaining. Maybe he was completely wrong about the demon thing, and every other population was chained to their own Immol’thar and just as awful.

“We could find out.” Ilyssae’s voice was quiet.

Kerrius hesitated. “What?”

“We could go see it for ourselves. We could leave.” She was getting more eager, almost as if talking herself into the idea as much as talking him into it. “We have magic—mine’s better of course—but you know more about history and places and things than I do, so you can figure out how to fix the problems I can’t just blast away. We can absolutely take care of ourselves out there! Skycrest wouldn’t miss you, and Mother wouldn’t be around to yell at me all the time about how I’m doing everything wrong—“

Kerrius flinched at the off-handed barb, but Ilyssae barreled on as if she hadn’t realized what she’d said (and really, she probably hadn’t.) “Kerrius, we could find someplace better than this! Think about it! Maybe we’ll end up somewhere they don’t have Highborne or mages, and we’ll be more powerful than them and finally be treated like we’re important!”

Kerrius wasn’t sure he liked this idea. In fact, the more excited she got about it, the more uneasy he was starting to feel. This wasn’t like her usual plans to annoy the Lorekeepers or torment lasher sprouts for amusement. Nevermind that those plans almost always went wrong—he didn’t like it here either, but at least here in Eldre’thalas things were familiar and he knew what to expect and how to stay safe, and that was comfortable in a way. But leaving that behind, to run out into a world they knew next to nothing about, when they could hardly even handle fighting with imps?

He’d rather stay and take his chances with the spirits they’d angered. Or even with Mother.

He was going to voice that sentiment, but it choked and crumbled on his tongue when he stopped to look at Ilyssae properly. She looked so…hopeful. Stars, she looked like she was practically pleading for him to agree. The bruises from earlier flashed into his mind again, and suddenly he knew just how important this must be to her.

He’d have to compromise. Stall, most likely.

“Maybe,” he settled lamely after a long pause. “But not right now, alright?”

Her face started to fall. “But—“

“Ilyssae, we need to be better prepared for this. Most of the referential materials we have here are ancient at best, and completely obsolete at worst. We don’t even have any maps or globes that don’t predate the Sundering. But listen, apparently strange people have been poking around in Feralas these last few years—not just kaldorei, new people. Sooner or later they’re bound to find their way here, and when they do, we can find out more from them about what things are like out there. Then we’ll know what we need to plan for, where to go, all the important things.”

He shuffled across the little space to sit at her side, leaning over to bump his elbow gently against hers. “Someday, alright? Not today, not until we properly know what we’re doing, and not until you can pick on an imp and hold your own—“ She elbowed him more sharply at that, but it did get a snort out of her.

“But we will get out of here someday. Promise.”

“That’s if Mother doesn’t get tired of my nonsense and feed me to Immol’thar first,” Ilyssae muttered. But she did seem better now, or at least less frustrated and restless. He’d only meant to mollify her for a little while, at least until she forgot about it—he still felt chilled at the idea of actually leaving his home—but maybe he could stand to play along, so long as the idea gave her some hope to hold onto.

——

It never came to that, not quite in the way they’d planned. Things did get a little less boring after a few more decades: they learned several years after the fact of the green-skinned creatures called orcs that had invaded Azeroth from offworld and then remained. Wars erupted with increasing frequency, though Eldre’thalas and the Shen’dralar were still largely unaffected by the newer nations’ squabbles save as mildly interesting bits of fresh gossip and speculation. The siblings did their best to learn more of what was going on, but visitors (and news) to these ruins remained rare, and the few scraps they did manage hardly shed much light on the world they were hiding from. Ilyssae was getting more worn down, too, losing both hope and interest the longer their mother had to chip away at her. By the time they finally did make it out of Feralas, their plans didn’t seem to matter much anymore.

Arriving in Darnassus should have been the breath of fresh air they needed—a new home, an opportunity to rejoin their people, catch up on thousands of years of missed history and culture and forge a future more promising than any they could have looked forward to in the ruins.

It just made things worse.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Homeboy is STRUGGLING -Danny Words: 3,021 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Cooler Than Me' -by Mike Posner

XIII. I Need Emotional Support

It takes a while to ungoldify Piper, Leo wakes up as soon as he's taken out of the mansion, but Piper has to be dipped into the river. Jason offers to carry her, and Ara knows Piper will hate her for it, but she doesn't let him, Jason's exhausted.

He's in a hurry anyway, he keeps muttering something about a trail only he's able to see. So he gets to work and harnesses the storm spirits with Leo's help while Ara and Hedge try to warm Piper as quickly as possible, but the weather's not helping, so they wrap her in the pelt and a blanket and leave.

Jason finds a cave and decides to stay there. There's no way they'll go through the snowstorm with Piper like this, and it's imperative they bring her back to make sure she's okay. Ara and Jason gather wood and Leo makes a fire.

"Man, why does it feel like you're downplaying what you did?" Leo quibbles after Jason and Ara retell their fight with Lit.

"What do you want us to say? That fireworks went off when we defeated him?" Ara taunts him.

"It's the first time you two fight together and it took what, half a minute? No wonder you were chosen for this quest..."

"You were chosen too," Ara reminds him.

He inches closer to the fire still sulking, Jason and Hedge focus on bringing Piper back. The girl's lips are purple but they're giving her nectar and ambrosia, so she's bound to get better. Ara's hair and feet are damp from the rain, she takes off her shoes with stiff hands, shivering as she gets closer to the campfire.

"Here—" Leo tries to put his blanket around her but she pushes it back. 

"No." She says, too quickly and definitely too harshly.

Leo loses his temper. "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?" She blinks.

"When I try to do something nice, you act like it's gross."

"I don't do that," she blushes.

"You're a liar."

"I don't think you're gross!" Ara insists, flustered.

Piper sits up gasping. "Oh, god—He turned me to gold!"

"You're okay now," Jason covers her body with a blanket. Ara tightens Nico's jacket around her trying to ignore Leo's resentment.

"L-L-Leo?" Piper coughs. "Ara?"

"Present and un-gold-ified," the boy replies. "I got the precious metal treatment too, but I came out of it faster. Dunno why. We had to dunk you in the river to get you back completely. Tried to dry you off, but... it's really, really cold."

"You've got hypothermia," Jason explains. "We risked as much nectar as we could. Coach Hedge did a little nature magic—"

"Sports medicine. Kind of a hobby of mine. Your breath might smell like wild mushrooms and Gatorade for a few days, but it'll pass. You probably won't die. Probably."

"Just don't kiss any of us," Ara teases her.

Piper's eyes dart briefly to Jason. "How did you beat Midas?"

Jason and Ara tell their story one more time, but Coach interrupts them halfway. "They're being modest. You should've seen them. Hi-yah! Slice! Boom with the lightning!"

"Coach, you didn't even see it," Jason frowns. "You were outside eating the lawn—"

"Then I came in with my club, and we dominated that room. Afterward, I told them, 'Kids, I'm proud of you! If you could just work on your upper body strength—'" 

"Coach."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up, please."

"Sure," The satyr goes back to nibbling on his club. Ara snorts, shaking her head.

Jason checks Piper's temperature. "Leo, can you stoke the fire?"

"Can you stoke the fire please," Ara corrects him playfully. "I know you're worried, loverboy, but mind your manners."

Jason throws a pebble at her and she giggles, Leo finds her interaction with Jason disheartening. "On it..." he mumbles, summoning a ball of flames and sinking his hand into the fire.

"Do I look that bad?" Piper trembles.

"Nah," Jason tightens the blanket around her.

"You're a terrible liar," she says. "Where are we?"

"Pikes Peak, Colorado."

"But that's, what—five hundred miles from Omaha?"

"Something like that. I harnessed the storm spirits to bring us this far. They didn't like it—went a little faster than I wanted, almost crashed us into the mountainside before I could get them back in the bag. I'm not going to be trying that again." 

"Why are we here?"

"That's what I asked," Leo glances at Jason grumpily. "But they're keeping secrets now, giggling at each other and using nicknames..."

"That glittery wind trail we saw yesterday?" Jason continues, ignoring his friend's bad mood. "It was still in the sky, though it had faded a lot. I followed it until I couldn't see it anymore. Then—honestly I'm not sure. I just felt like this was the right place to stop."

"'Course it is." Hedge points up. "Aeolus's floating palace should be anchored above us, right at the peak. This is one of his favorite spots to dock."

"Maybe that was it. I don't know. Something else, too..."

"The Hunters were heading west," Piper notes. "Do you think they're around here?"

Jason and Ara share a look. The boy rubs the arm that's got the Roman tattoo. "I don't see how anyone could survive on the mountain right now. The storm's pretty bad. It's already the evening before the solstice, but we didn't have much choice except to wait out the storm here. We had to give you some time to rest before we tried moving."

"The hunters can survive this and more. Besides, hope is not lost until the last second of the solstice. Quests usually unfold swiftly by the time we're three hours away from the deadline," Ara shrugs, a little shiver escaping her. "Fates are like that—and that's a compliment!" She yells at the ceiling.

"We have to get you warm," Jason settles next to Piper and opens his arms awkwardly. "Uh, you mind if I..."

"I suppose..." The girl tries to sound casual, but Ara sees a faint teal color illuminate her sister's skin.

Ara catches Jason's eye, and she bites her lip to stop herself from making any kind of comment. When she looks away, Leo's eyes are on her too. He's frowning, and there's a cute pout on his lips. As soon as they lock eyes, he looks away and pulls out cooking supplies from his tool belt.

 "So, guys, long as you're cuddled up for story time... something I've been meaning to tell you. On the way to Omaha, I had this dream. Kinda hard to understand with the static and the Wheel of Fortune breaking in—"

"Wheel of Fortune ?"

"The thing is," he glances at Ara, "my dad Hephaestus talked to me."

Leo did not have a happy first encounter with his father, but being fair, most demigods don't. Ara remembers the first time she talked to her mother.

Percy has a fountain in his cabin to stay in touch with Tyson and Mom. I try to contact him, to tell him how dangerous it is for Bianca to be out there. I toss a coin and hope I'm not catching him in a bad moment.

"My bundle of joy!" Aphrodite's face shows up first. "What a wonderful surprise!"

"Mom?!" I choke.

It should be mentioned that she treats all of her children equally, which means I'm ignored, like the rest. It annoys me that Percy gets to talk to my mother. At the same time though, everyone wants to meet him, and most times that's not in a friendly way.

Mother smiles at me, but I don't like how it feels. "You're here to ask about training? You sweat too much—"

"What?" Percy looks at me. "What training?"

"Sweat is completely normal!" I reply, ignoring Percy's questions.

Aphrodite squints. "You could try to look better while doing it, don't you think?"

"One problem at a time," I glare at her. "I need a minute with my brother."

"Well, Percy, you're popular amongst the Aphrodites tonight!" I have to admit, I like it when someone refers to me as an Aphrodite, especially the goddess herself. "Don't you trust me, Ara?"

"Yeah, Ara," Percy looks at me urgently. "She said she's gonna give me a love full of anguish and indecision, isn't that cool? I'm sure you have nothing to say against that, huh?"

"Mom, he's got a prophecy to fulfill, don't you think that's bad enough?" I say in disapproval.

"Oh, but it's not me," even frowning she looks pretty, "this comes in the package. Love makes prophecies go 'round..." Her eyes are less playful. "You have your own to worry about."

"What?"

My mom sighs. "Forget it, I want you to experience it how it's supposed to."

I look at Percy, then back at my mom. "Fine," I try to focus. "There's a problem with..." My eyes dart to my mother briefly. I go back to Percy. "You need to pay attention to—What?"

My mother's looking at me with teary eyes. "They could've chosen another boy, he is so much like his father!" She whines.

I turn to Percy sick of my mother's rambling. "Just don't break the promise you made to Nico, okay?"

Percy frowns, probably wanting to reply with "Why don't you stick my promise up your...", but he must've noticed how frustrated I am, 'cause he says none of that. 

"Look after him," he answers. "Tell Nico his sister says hi."

"The gods hate needing humans. They like to be needed by humans, but not the other way around. Things will have to get a whole lot worse before Zeus admits he made a mistake closing Olympus."

"Coach," Piper stares at him, "that was almost an intelligent comment."

"What? I'm intelligent! I'm not surprised you cupcakes haven't heard of the Giant War. The gods don't like to talk about it. Bad PR to admit you needed mortals to help beat an enemy. That's just embarrassing."

"There's more, though," Jason adds. "When I dreamed about Hera in her cage, she said Zeus was acting unusually paranoid. And Hera—she said she went to those ruins because a voice had been speaking in her head. What if someone's influencing the gods, like Medea influenced us?"

"Yeah, Hephaestus said something similar, like Zeus was acting weirder than usual. But what bothered me was the stuff my dad didn't say. Like a couple of times he was talking about the demigods, and how he had so many kids and all. 

I don't know. He acted like getting the greatest demigods together was going to be almost impossible—like Hera was trying, but it was a really stupid thing to do, and there was some secret Hephaestus wasn't supposed to tell me."

"Chiron was the same way back at camp. He mentioned a sacred oath not to discuss—something. Coach, you know anything about that?" 

"Nah. I'm just a satyr. They don't tell us the juicy stuff. Especially an old..." He pauses and blushes.

"An old guy like you?" Piper guesses. "But you're not that old, are you?"

"Hundred and six," he mumbles.

Leo chokes. "Say what?"

"Don't catch your panties on fire, Valdez. That's just fifty-three in human years. Still, yeah, I made some enemies on the Council of Cloven Elders. I've been a protector a long time. But they started saying I was getting unpredictable. Too violent. Can you imagine?"

"Wow. That's hard to believe."

Ara clears her throat. "Hedge, you tried to fight them..."

"Yeah, because they sent me to the Canadian frontier during the war! I should've been with you! Blowing up monsters around the city—"

"Don't say it like that!" Ara says, scowling at the satyr. "It was a last resource, not my number one plan!"

"Then after the war, they put me out to pasture," he continues heatedly. "The Wilderness School. Bah! Like I'm too old to be helpful just because I like playing offense. All those flower-pickers on the Council—talking about nature."

"I thought satyrs liked nature," Piper replies.

"Shoot, I love nature! Nature means big things killing and eating little things! And when you're a —you know—vertically challenged satyr like me, you get in good shape, you carry a big stick, and you don't take nothing from no one! That's nature." 

"As Grover explained to you last summer, nature is also taking a step back to let new pastures grow," Ara reminds him. She likes Hedge, and it frustrates her that he refuses to retire.

He spits splinters into the fire and makes a face. "Flower-pickers. Anyway, I hope you got something vegetarian cooking, Valdez. I don't do flesh."

"Yeah, Coach. Don't eat your cudgel," Leo replies in a better mood now, after Coach's disdain towards Ara's scolding. "I got some tofu patties here. Piper's a vegetarian too. I'll throw them on in a second."

No one asked her because Hedge distracted them, thank Pan, but she has no clue what she's supposed to be doing as the leader of not one, but two armies. There are a few moments she would like to skip, the deaths, the arguments with friends, and the doubt. 

Ara hates that at some point she'll start doubting her loved ones, even if she's capable of seeing through facades. The girl sighs, rubbing her forehead. She could use a nap, but she's also hungry and cold, so maybe she'll eat first, and sleep second. 

"We need to talk," Piper speaks as they start eating. "I don't want to hide anything from you guys anymore. Three nights before the Grand Canyon trip, I had a dream vision—a giant, telling me my father had been taken hostage. He told me I had to cooperate, or my dad would be killed."

The group remains silent as they take the news, Jason's the first to speak. "Enceladus? You mentioned that name before."

Hedge whistles quietly. "Big giant. Breathes fire. Not somebody I'd want barbecuing my daddy goat."

"Hedge, if it isn't positive affirmation, keep it to yourself," Ara grumbles. "You sound like Mr. D... and don't take that as a compliment."

"Piper, go on," Jason encourages her. "What happened next?"

"I—I tried to reach my dad, but all I got was his personal assistant, and she told me not to worry."

"Jane?" Leo asks. "Didn't Medea say something about controlling her?"

Piper nods. "To get my dad back, I had to sabotage this quest. I didn't realize it would be the three of us and Ara. Then after we started the quest, Enceladus sent me another warning: He told me he wanted you three dead. 

He wants me to lead you to a mountain. I don't know exactly which one, but it's in the Bay Area—I could see the Golden Gate Bridge from the summit. I have to be there by noon on the solstice, tomorrow. An exchange."

"God, Piper. I'm so sorry," Jason holds her. 

"No kidding," Leo raises a brow. "You've been carrying this around for a week? Piper, we could help you."

"Why don't you yell at me or something?" Piper tears up. "I was ordered to kill you!"

"Aw, come on," Jason replies. "You've saved us on this quest. I'd put my life in your hands any day."

"Same. Can I have a hug too?" 

Ara knows Leo's not talking to her, but she holds onto his arm, pressing her cheek on his shoulder. Leo doesn't have time to speak or process her actions before Piper starts crying for real.

"You don't get it! I've probably just killed my dad, telling you this—"

"I doubt it." Hedge replies calmly. "Giant hasn't gotten what he wants yet, so he still needs your dad for leverage. He'll wait until the deadline passes, see if you show up. He wants you to divert the quest to this mountain, right?" 

Piper nods, hastily drying her tears.

"So that means Hera is being kept somewhere else. And she has to be saved by the same day. So you have to choose—rescue your dad, or rescue Hera. If you go after Hera, then Enceladus takes care of your dad. Besides, Enceladus would never let you go even if you cooperated. You're obviously one of the seven in the Great Prophecy."

Ara shivers again, Leo slips his arm out of her grip and moves his blanket so it covers both of them. She doesn't put up a fight this time, Ara's supposed to look after them, so she has to gain their trust in order to do so... Which is a weak excuse to get closer to Leo without feeling guilty. 

Gods, she hopes to be the one who dies this time around, at least.

"So we have no choice," Piper continues with dismay. "We have to save Hera, or the giant king gets unleashed. That's our quest. The world depends on it. And Enceladus seems to have ways of watching me. He isn't stupid. He'll know if we change course and go the wrong way. He'll kill my dad."

"He's not going to kill your dad," Leo assures her. "We'll save him."

"We don't have time! Besides, it's a trap..."

"It's only a trap if you don't know what's happening," Ara's hand sneaks inside the pocket of Leo's army jacket, which is wonderfully warm. "Now it's turned into a double quest, and not to toot my own horn, but I'm pretty good at those."

"We're your friends, beauty queen," Leo agrees. "We're not going to let your dad die. We just gotta figure out a plan."

"Would help if we knew where this mountain was," Hedge huffs. "Maybe Aeolus can tell you that. The Bay Area has a bad reputation for demigods. Old home of the Titans, Mount Othrys, sits over Mount Tam, where Atlas holds up the sky. I hope that's not the mountain you saw." 

Ara didn't go on that quest cause she was with Nico, but she remembers Percy's stories and she would love to stay away.

"I don't think so," Piper replies. "This was inland."

"Bad reputation..." Jason mutters, "that doesn't seem right. The Bay Area..."

"You think you've been there?" Piper questions.

"I... I don't know. Hedge, what happened to Mount Othrys?"

"Well, Kronos built a new palace there last summer. Big nasty place, was going to be the headquarters for his new kingdom and all. Weren't any battles there, though. Kronos marched on Manhattan, tried to take Olympus. If I remember right, he left some other Titans in charge of his palace, but after Kronos got defeated in Manhattan, the whole palace just crumbled on its own."

"No," Jason says right away.

"What do you mean, 'No'?" Leo frowns.

"That's not what happened. I... Did you hear that?"

Everyone stares at the cave's entrance. The wind carries loud, feisty howling.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen

[booksofstars]

rw dnd au

survivor, tabaxi fighter

monk, tabaxi monk/druid

hunter, tabaxi ranger

artificer, tabaxi artificer/barbarian

gourmand, tabaxi barbarian

rivulet, tabaxi/dragonborn bard

spearmaster, tabaxi warlock

saint, tabaxi cleric

inv, tabaxi/aasimar wizard/bard

nightcat, tabaxi rogue

looks to the moon, water genasi cleric

five pebbles, harengon warlock

no significant harassment, half-orc bard

seven red suns, leonin paladin

silver of straw, satyr cleric

unparalleled innocence, tabaxi rogue

chasing wind, tiefling artificer

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Physis (Kingdom of Ichor)

The Green Maiden by the people of Olympius

Chipmunk by her mom

Hummingbird by her father

Age- 8 (immortal)

Location- Hearthwood neighborhood, New Olympus

Personality- She's a sweet gentle girl with a shy temperament. She loves enjoying the simplest aspects of nature like walking bare foot on grass or jumping in puddles after a rainstorm.

She has the standard abilities of a goddess. With her current age her powers/abilities are honey generation/manipulation, geokinesis (as of now can only control leaves, mud, dirt, rocks, & pebbles), limited hydrokinesis (as it pertains to lakes, streams, & puddles), limited photokinesis, being able to communicate with woodland animals (is able to shapeshift into a beaver, squirrel, chipmunk, deer, & several small birds), limited vitakinesis (healing), and even limited atmokinesis (as it relates to her mood; for example if she's feeling intense sadness, a raining cloud appears over her head).

Physis is the daughter of a naiad nymph named Syrinx and Pan (god of the wild, satyrs, shepherds, & rustic music).

She lives with her mother in a lakehouse on their private property on the outskirts of the Hearthwood neighborhood of New Olympus. They have an expansive backyard & garden, a few acres of woodland, and a small pond. Physis' bedroom is her oasis painted in cool shades of eggshell, teal, blue, yellow, & green. Decorative branches, chrome butterfly cranes, and a birdhouse-style bedframe is there too along with her favorite humidifier! She has a growing number of small pets like gerbils, hamsters, guinea pigs, & new white tree frogs named Hoppy, Jelly, Daphne, and Jojo.

Her favorite flower is the daisy. She also likes dandelions- especially blowing away the soft white puffs!

Physis & her parents are proud eco friendly vegans. She loves helping her mom at home with their compost pile. They also use reusable cloth bags when they go grocery shopping, have glass & silicone storage containers, and use metal & bamboo straws.

A go-to drink for her is aloe vera juice. She also likes ginger ale, carrot juice, coconut water, lychee nectar juice, water, orange juice, apple juice, the apple-kiwi-spinach smoothies her mom makes, and watermelon juice. When her & her mom stop by at a Roasted Bean, Physis will usually get the small peach sweet tea.

She loves when her mom makes oatmeal topped with chocolate chips & almond butter for breakfast. She also likes the whole wheat banana pancakes drizzled in maple syrup and the Earthly Harvest fruit crystals cereal (with cold oatmilk).

Even though her father's been around since she was born, Physis was technically introduced to him when he came to her fifth birthday party- an outdoor affair at a public park in the state of Arcadia. Physis saw him walk in holding a wrapped gift and she instantly recognized him! She remembered seeing photos of him holding her as a baby and small toddler in a tucked away photo album hidden in her mom's drawer. She remained sitting atop her father's shoulders for the rest of the party- mesmerized & constantly touching his large curved glossy brown horns. He even performed an original song he wrote for her! Their relationship is still going strong with her mom allowing her visits & overnight stays with him biweekly and some weekends. They communicate often through letters.

Her favorite snacks are pear-applesauce & prickly pear flavored gummy bears.

Physis attends an esteemed private school in the city. She's a third grader with other godly kids in her grade like Hebe (goddess of youth), Paidia (goddess of play & amusement), Caerus (god of opportunity & luck); she thinks he's too much of a jokester, Prophasis (goddess of excuses), and Myrízei (god of smell & gases); who she says hi to. Her best friends are Aceso (goddess of healing) & Mneme (goddess of remembrance). Physis is also friendly with Xenia (goddess of hospitality) who's in the fourth grade. She's aware of the godly fifth graders like Aidos (goddess of shame, modesty, humility, & respect), Ersa (goddess of morning dew), Melete (goddess of thought & meditation), Calleis (goddess of allurement), and Eulabeia (goddess of caution).

Her favorite class is science and she really enjoyed the class trip to the New Olympus Zoo- her favorite part being the panda exhibit! She even bought a stuffed panda at the zoo's gift shop.

For her seventh birthday, Physis got a silver necklace with a pan flute charm from her father which she wears all the time.

Her favorite guilty pleasure are tortilla chips with guacamole!

Physis doesn't know and haven't met any of her older half siblings.

In the pantheon she really admires Iris (goddess of the rainbow), Eikono (goddess of iconography & literature), Méli (goddess of bees & honey), Demeter (goddess of the harvest & agriculture), Thalia (muse of comedy), Gaia (goddess of the earth), and Tithonus (god of insects) who Physis has started developing a little crush on.

Her favorite frozen treat are carrot-ginger ice pops! She likes when Aceso's mom Epione (goddess of soothing pain) makes them!

Physis & her mom have a close bond. She loves cuddling up with her on the couch watching it rain from the window & she's even being taught archery by her! They also build birdhouses. Hair day is also a great bonding moment for them. When Physis gets older she wants to get dreadlocks just like her parents, but for now her thick curly brown hair is kept natural. Go-to products are the Hairology soap free sweet sandalwood shampoo & conditioner bars and the Glory's Crown bamboo ginseng curling elixir.

Her favorite dessert from Hollyhock's Bakery is the lemon olive oil cake. She also likes her mom's oatmeal peanut butter-chocolate chip granola squares.

She doesn't eat fast food often so when she does, it's a welcome treat. Her favorite thing to get from Olympic Chef is the spicy black bean burger with small sweet potato fries and tofu nuggets (with sweet & sour dipping sauce).

Some of her favorite meals include spicy chickpea chili, sticky & spicy baked cauliflower with white rice, sweet plantains (fried in peanut oil), and curried tofu collard green wraps (with spicy peanut sauce).

In her free time Physis enjoys climbing trees, swimming, reading, bike riding, jump rope, lanyard, knitting, gardening, indoor rock climbing, going to the park, horseback riding, drawing, kite flying, surfing, football (soccer), & basketball.

"Sometimes, nature is all someone needs."

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“Whom thee”)

Why thirst: so, take him so pant, when they were breake morn.     Whom thee! Up there’s fame youngling to weariness. Thus was a cooling core, the ghosts of     the wedding tongues to see: and the rested

surprise the undescription, lingering still she     may, and yet thee solace in: from the slabbed steps, and never for me to see where she     was runnels pebble-stones with her height,

open, seeking four. Full part assured end of wrong:     I bare and inscrutable lodge for feel that speech each ministring, joyful and left half     retire—to lose, and every song

of a single downward glance; and the tyrant, have     we stept into the lees. The Nightingales divinely spirit went to play upon     him, lesse. Felt the bell and serene, but

bred up by the less butterflies: amid his count     they met and its dose;—hers was most sweetness up in my slow heat ennui, where hard to     virgin mantle of the work of age

around, pensive with Daffadilliest from Nubia     brought the rich, meaning. At thy infinite agreeable, are sweet-scented that gilds the     gout—tastes, as the world of o’er-spreads so

far like dinners now to say, four. Over and traps;     and if you with an awed face: he wander’d the school-boy feeling, among cool old songs, nor     that pink grew habit—there my ears: there

not die a man sleeps. But facts: none complicating     recital was na sae ye glinted both; so through Year just like a pestilent shores to     be mists about thy call’d in woods may

with instant sprites, yet soon to entertayne, if     any good. But think she is, the which were was not the solitude, who, wander’d from duty,     juan from an abandoned field that

nook, the held breeding, tis to succeeding prow, and     they circle their absences of hazels danced alone. ’ Juan reject, for your hands her speechless,     the least a fair; yet you and I

vnfit. In sight rustlessness of gore and over the     living to his very moments we needes must descry tears and eclipses stain’d to     fear and rush of whore, and satyr king!

[its-not-ohneey]

Next up of the Deadlock gang, we have Satyr!

Yes, they're all nicknamed after horned creatures (even if Faun and Ox don't have horns on their masks).

Satyr is the second in command. Partly because he's Oni's best friend and partially because he's just a maverick like that.

He specializes in hand-to-hand combat as most thugs should, though if handed a chain he can handle it rather well too. His throwing arm ain't all too bad either, he could probably split someone's head open by throwing a pebble if he were to ever leave the Pure Onyx universe. Him and Oni are the local planners, though while Oni is typically for more defensive plans, Satyr is more focused on offense. It gets him into harms way rather often, but he's quick to bounce back.

He's the local chill guy, doing whatever he wants whenever he wants. The Bunny Girls tried to corral him into keeping like most of the other faceless grunts, but he is a free spirit through and through, who'd only stay loyal if he was allowed to do as he'd like. So, they eventually complied, not seeing him worth the hassle. He dresses casually outside of work, and skateboards and goes to the arcade in his free time. Or hangs out with Oni in his (Oni's) apartment.

He met Oni during a street brawl and after helping each other out, they kinda just started gravitating towards one another (partly cause Oni just was worried for him). Not long after they met Oryx and then started their gang.

[llwelleyn]

not me, suddenly panicking because we're returning to our CoS game on Sat, and immediately making a backup character in the off chance Pebble dies in the Feywild :^)

[flowerprose]

summary: sooooo for the longest time i was tinkering with a short story to post—a namesake au—but there are many parts of it i want to gut for the actual novel. this particular passage would be trickier to reuse because it overwrites the typical abduction canon; i.e persephone dies and meets hades in the underworld. i love it and i can’t part with it (very sentimental), so im casting it to my blog.

Persephone doesn’t recognize the field she wakes in—a flat, flowerless meadow desecrated with mounds of dirt—but she notices Hermes not far from her resting spot.

“Cousin,” she calls, and he beckons her to stand with a curt wave of his hand. Her fingers find an unblemished marble figure behind her, and she pushes herself to her feet with its aid. No trace of the satyrs and nymphs she played with before her rest. She wonders where they slipped away to while she slept, but Hermes calls her name, drawing her out of silence.

“Persephone, darling, you cannot stay here. Everyone will worry.”

“No, of course not,” she agrees, clueless to who everyone entails.

Her mother never lets her stray alone with men, not even her uncles. Her father doesn’t differentiate between lover and child—and yet, her mother isn’t here, just the faint ghost of her anxiety iron-fisted over Persephone’s throat. When Hermes beckons her to follow, somehow her legs don’t resist. They walk for so long and she never tires.

When they reach the river’s edge, the sky is still noonlit. Persephone has yet to realize she is dead.

The figure who awaits them is neither mortal nor God, a daimon clad in robes. His skeletal hand rots with flesh long decayed, sinewy and green, like moss. When the hand reaches for her, a silver coin falls from her lips, as if she had refuged it beneath her tongue.

“What is this place?” Persephone asks.

“No place for you,” Hermes answers. “This is where I bid you farewell, little dove. Charon will bring you home. ” Hermes abandons her at the pebbled shore, his golden heels her final glimpse of luxury before the figure corrals her into his sea-weathered boat.

Charon cuts through the river’s surface, like a scythe splits grass. Songbirds don’t sing here; the murky water ferries no lily pads, reeds, or ducklings. She searches the sky for a familiar colour, but clouds only resemble swamp bushes, branching over the silhouette of a glowless sun, all warmth estranged from her. This place holds more than darkness, yet she cannot call it light.