#maybe he needs more yellow and reds in his skin.. satyrs do like to drink that forest wine

[dazzelmethat]

Satyr idea WIPs. Trying to put my finger on what I like about satyr folklore that I don't ever see in other satyr designs.

I know they are nature spirits in folklore and I usually see them depicted as such. But I like the 'base temptation' and unkempt kind of satyr.

[kumeko]

Memoriae

Character/Pairing: Annabeth, Thalia, Luke

A/N: I love the tragic friendship of these three. Written for the Riordan Verse Zine.

Summary: History was just a little too close in this room, a little too real. It was too easy to look and wonder about the what-ifs.

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“It’s really musty in here.” Thalia coughed as she pushed cobwebs out of the way in the dark room. Taking a cue from her, Annabeth covered her mouth with a hand before groping the grimy wall for a light switch.  It wasn’t long before she heard a soft click nearby and the room was bathed in a pale yellow light.

She wasn’t sure if that made the room more or less claustrophobic. It was a small area, with a few cardboard boxes and just enough space for three to lie down. Back when they were preteens, it might have been roomy, but now…Annabeth wasn’t the tallest adult but even she could touch the roof if she wanted to.

Yet it had been home and she found herself smiling as she scanned the room.

“It’s been ages since we we’ve been here.” Ages since anyone had been here. Judging by the dust on the floor, it had been untouched since they left it. “I can’t believe no one’s found it yet.”

“Well, you were always good at finding hiding spots.” Standing her tiptoes, Thalia rubbed Annabeth’s head affectionately. “It’s that big brain of yours.”

“You know I’m older than you now, right.” Annabeth glowered but made no move to swat Thalia’s hand away. It made her feel childlike, reminiscent of when she actually had lived here. “By several years.”

“Right, right. That’s going to take some time to get used to…” Thalia rubbed the back of her neck, considering it all.

 There were times when Annabeth wondered what it would be like to have joined the hunters, to have gained immortality and the ability to see the world change. However, it seemed she would have lost more than she gained—her growth, Percy, the ability to change. “It’s going to only get worse with each year.”

 “True but with each year, I feel you’ll probably have it more difficult than me. Grey hairs, wrinkles—” With a guffaw, she dodged Annabeth’s punch. “Anyways, Luke was always good at locking things, it would have been hard for anyone else to open the door.”

 She gave her friend a last glare before moving on. “That’s true, though he never liked using his powers,” Annabeth chuckled, remembering the face he would make when they asked him. With a grimace, a pout, and then an imploring do I have to, he’d grumpily get to it.

“The face he’d make!” Thalia rolled her eyes, shoulders still shaking from laughter. “It was like he ate something sour.”

“Remember that time he had to eat those ripe peaches?” Annabeth grinned. “I swear he would have preferred drinking spoiled milk again. Even if that meant he’d spend three days on the toilet.”

“I think he went beyond hate when it came to peaches,” the huntress guffawed, wheezing as she remembered.  “And you used to love them, so he had to keep finding them.”

“And with a smile each time.”

Sobering up quickly, Thalia frowned. “He was always good at hiding things. Except for his anger at the gods. We should have realized it sooner.”

“After he failed his quest, he was never the same. I should have noticed it.” Annabeth bit her lip, remembering just how dark his expression had been back then. Like the constellations, there were so many signs and she had ignored each one until it was too late. If she had noticed earlier, if she had left with him back in San Francisco, would he be alive now?

It was a question without an answer—it was far too late for what-ifs. There was only the present, only now, and this meant a timeline where Luke was dead.

 Scanning the floor, Annabeth crouched down to pick up a small toy. Turning over the plastic figure in her hands, she gave a fond smile. “Now this is something I didn’t expect to see again. I thought I lost it when we had to leave.”

“Leave? Chased out, more like,” Thalia scoffed before peering around her friend curiously. ���What’s that?”

“One of those happy meal toys.” Holding up the Hercules toy, Annabeth snorted. “The Disney movie was pretty inaccurate. He was nothing like this.”

“No, definitely not.” Thalia gingerly took the toy. The paint was chipped in places and it was missing an arm. Years of abandonment had not improved its condition. “We wouldn’t have half of our issues if he was anything like the movie.”

Taking back the toy, Annabeth pitched her voice lower and moved its arms. “Hello, sister. Nice seeing you again.”

“You’re spending too much time with Percy.” Thalia shook her head. However, with her cracking a grin, it was hard to gauge how serious she was. “When’d we get it? I don’t think we ever bought a happy meal.”

“We didn’t.” Annabeth turned the toy over, lifting the discoloured cape. Scrawled in red ink was the name Luke. “Luke gave it to me. It used to be his.”

“That’s unusual.” Thalia’s expression softened before she turned away. “I thought he didn’t take anything with him. And considering how much he hated Hermes…”

“Maybe.” Annabeth set the toy on a cardboard box. Unbalanced, it fell over immediately. “Maybe it gave him hope.”

“Hope.” Thalia returned to searching, opening up one of the smaller cardboard boxes. “I guess if you don’t know his personality, he is kinda…hopeful.” Pulling out a bottle from the box, she turned to Annabeth. “There’s some nectar here, along with bandages.”

“Wow.” Annabeth wiped her eyes quickly and pulled out a checklist. “We left these places pretty stocked considering how little we had.”

“Yeah, I dunno how, but we always managed to find just enough.” Thalia shrugged, closing the box once more. “Makes it easier now at least.”

“Well, satyrs have more hiding spots now.” Annabeth checked off their location on the list. “Just two more places to look at then.”

“Just two?” Thalia groaned, slumping forward. Looking haggard, she gave Annabeth the stink eye. “We’ve been at it for days now.”

It was strange. Maybe it was because Thalia was eternally a teenager or maybe it was because Annabeth hadn’t been one in so long, but she felt a bit like a parent. Gods, she hoped none of her kids were this rebellious. Forcing some cheer she didn’t entirely feel, she pumped her fist. “We’re almost done!”

“You said that last time.” Thalia grimaced, shooting daggers at her. Irritated, she sat down and leaned against a wall. “I’m taking a break.”

“…fine.” Annabeth rolled her eyes before joining Thalia. While she also wanted a breather, she questioned taking one in this dusty room. She could feel the years of grime settling on her like a second skin. They’d have to send a clean-up crew in before anyone used it.

Looking up, she spotted crayon marks on the wall, a long line labelled with their names. Luke had wanted to keep track of their heights. They had spent the longest time in this hideout and it wasn’t very hard to remember what it used to be like here. Thalia would be sitting near a door, ready to pounce. Luke would be carefully organizing their goods, dividing up their supplies so they had an emergency stock if needed. And she’d be sitting next to him, watching with adoring eyes because Luke could do no wrong back then.

He had been a father, a brother, a crush. He turned into a traitor, an enemy, a destroyer.

And now—now Annabeth had no idea what hat to give him, where to place this complicated, selfish, selfless man. Maybe they could have talked more; his ideas weren’t wrong, just his methods. If she had asked, if she had known…

“Do you think.” Annabeth leaned against Thalia. Sitting like this, she felt like a child again, nestled between her two favourite people. “Do you think we could have stopped him? Saved him?”

“They said it was fate, destiny, but!” Thalia ground her teeth, an angry grunt escaping her lips as her fist hit the ground. “I hate those words. Like we couldn’t do anything, like we can’t escape—I…” Her voice trailed off, her words almost too soft for Annabeth to hear. “I know we could have. If we had more time or if I hadn’t been a stupid tree, I know we could have helped him.”

“Yeah.” Annabeth gripped Thalia’s hand.

Do you love me? Luke had asked, his voice no more than strangled whisper. The light in his eyes had already started fading and she hadn’t been sure if he could see her, let alone hear her. Even the warmth of his hands, the warmth that had saved her a thousand times over, had already disappeared.

I do, she had answered, I always did, you’re family. He should have known the answer, he should have always known the answer. Maybe she should have said it louder, said it clearer. Had he forgotten it? There were so many reasons he had turned away from her, from them, and maybe that was one of them.

“You know,” Annabeth mumbled, closing her eyes. “I hate him. Just a little.”

Thalia snorted. “There’s no little for me. He should have known better.  I should have been around to punch his idiotic face before he thought of that moronic plan.”

Laughing, Annabeth shook her head. “As long as you didn’t break his nose.”

“Hmmm…” Thalia considered it. “Well, he did have a good nose. I suppose I’d keep it to his jaw or something.”

She wasn’t sure how long reincarnation took. Was there already a baby Luke somewhere, reborn and ready to try for the Isle of the Blessed? He would make it, she was sure.  “Maybe I’ll aim for it.” Annabeth stared up at the ceiling. It would take years but she had always been an overachiever too. “The Isle of the Blessed. If I get there, I can punch him for you.”

“Yeah.” Thalia grimaced. Immortality really did have some disadvantages. “I guess I can’t really aim for it.”

“That’s true.”  Annabeth hugged Thalia, snuggling in a bit closer. “You could always guide our reincarnations.”

“If I did that, I might as well punch him myself,” she grumbled, not quite rejecting the idea.  “But this means I have to deal with more Percy.”

“Percy?”

“Like he’d let you aim for the Isle without him.” Thalia gave her a look, as though she were an idiot. And maybe she was, because she couldn’t really argue against that. “It was such a pain convincing him to not come.”

“That’s…probably true.” Annabeth shrugged but she couldn’t stop the soft smile tugging at her lips. “I guess we’re just not going to leave you alone for a while then.”

“Not for a long time,” Thalia agreed, her arms sliding around Annabeth. “And all of your lives had better be long ones. Even Luke’s lives.”

Annabeth pressed her face in her friend’s shirt, not quite trusting her voice. Thalia said nothing, stroking her hair softly as they sat there.

Before they left, Annabeth pocketed the inaccurate Hercules. We’re a family, he had said when he gave it to her, his smile infectious. Her eyes had been the size of drachmas as she examined the toy, the only one she had seen after leaving her father. He had laughed, light and carefree, his hand ruffling her hair as she had thanked him.

We’re a family. Those words rang true, even now. In the end, despite what Kronus did, Luke never forgot that. Maybe it was his destiny to fall, to betray, to die. Maybe he couldn’t fight fate.

But there were small rebellions, things that even prophecies couldn’t touch.  The power of love, of family, the promise he had made so long ago. He died as himself, remembering just what, just who he had been fighting for.

“Coming?” Thalia asked, standing at the door.

“Yeah.” Annabeth hurried after her. In two lifetimes, when she’ll meet him again on the Isle of the Blessed, he’d probably accept her slug with an accepting smile.

They were family, after all.

[wandering-chronicler-blog]

Draecember - Prompt 6 - On a Mission

The sun was slowly crawling back under the horizon and made the snowy fields of Winterspring seemingly glow orange.  Vylia took a long drink from her canteen as she watched the two mages finished setting up the trap.  A few other Alliance soldiers stood in long thick cloaks and armor stuffed with fur or heavily enchanted.  She was glad that she still had the plate she’d worn during the campaign in Northrend and the thick hooded cloak.  She stuffed it in a bag on her back and wrapped her arms around herself as she took a breath.  White fog puffed from her lips in the cold as she heard snow crunching behind her.

 “You alright?” Vadralis asked.

 She glanced in his direction.  “Just a little cold,” she replied.  “And admittedly not sure if this is going to work.”

 “Should.  We have everything we need.”  He pulled the bandana around his nose and mouth down as she turned a bit to face him better.  “Can’t let it spread.  And with the satyrs emboldened in Felwood, we know The Legion is on the move again.”

 “How?”

 “They’re tainted. They hear their masters, they have to obey.  I get the feeling that they’re doing this as a distraction though.  All intelligence from SI:7 is pointing at something in the sea. Around where an orc warlock during the Second War raised a group of islands from the depths.”

 They both knew exactly who he was talking about, though neither said it.  Vylia swallowed a bit as she remembered hearing tales of them from her time before Draenor was shattered.  “Right,” she said, changing subjects.  “So.  How many of these things are we thinking?”

 “Probably a small group. Maybe five total.  Any more and we’d notice.  Glad an adventurer in the region spotted how that spring was starting to give off fel energies.”

 “We have any way to cleanse it?”

 “Not easily.  But if we keep them from spreading it further, we may have a chance.”

 “Commander!” one of the soldiers shouted.  Vadralis quickly looked up along with Vylia to the man standing on the top of the nearby hill.  “Sylestra’s bird spotted a pack of satyrs moving into the tunnels!  She said it was seven of them!”

 “Alright!” he shouted back. “Everyone form up!  We’re gonna go over this plan one last time!”  He waved a hand as the other soldiers and mages came over.  Vylia moved to the side so everyone could see him.  “So, we have the rune traps in place.  Satyrs like being sneaky, so that’s how we’ll know they’re here and they’ll lose the element of surprise.  They’ll go off as soon as one of them gets in the middle.  Then we just finish off the rest.  The goblins from Everlook, for a price, have agreed to keep an eye on the other ways in and out of the region so the only way they can sneak through really is going to be through here.”  

 “Trust them enough?” a night elf woman asked.

 “Trust them enough that long as we keep paying them they’ll do their job, Sylestra.  Now, we’re expecting them to come through to the pass to finish their job tainting that spring.  That happens, we’re looking at a mess and it’ll start affecting the wildlife. Might even start affecting the local populace.  And we don’t want that.”  He looked at the draenei.  “Let Vylia go in first and consecrate the earth if we have to get up close. Sylestra, you and Duron come down from behind to cut off their retreat.  Jolic, snipe any you see a chance for from the tree.”  The rifleman gave a nod as he loaded his weapon.  “Sanders, Rhe, hit it with fireballs from above.”  The two mages nodded.

 “Shouldn’t be too bad, even if they’ve got one of those little corrupted ancient with them,” Vylia added. “If they do, let me take that.”

 “Any questions?” Vadralis asked.  The group assembled shook their heads.  “Good. Positions everyone.”

They didn’t have to wait too long, even though the snow had picked up.  Vylia was behind one of the trees with a good view of the trail they’d laid the explosive runes.  Her right hand reached back over her shoulder for the sword on her back as her left slipped under the shield.  Jolic was up in the tree above, hidden among the frosty needles with his rifle while Vadralis was nowhere to be seen.  She was sure he was around though and waiting for the ambush.  Everyone else was out of sight or hidden as the moon climbed into the sky.  She worked to keep her mind from wandering.  The thoughts of having a few drinks and a couple hands of cards with the other soldiers back at the barracks was an inviting thought.  Maybe she and the warrior from Ashenvale that had been brought in could compare swords and techniques.  Of course there was also the possibility of spending the remainder of the cold night in Vadralis’ bunk with him under the thick fur covers.  A wiry smirk started to play on her lips.  The thought would…

  There was a flash of violet and fire along the road in front of her.  She spotted the sickly and twisted satyrs caught in the blast of magic. A gunshot echoed from above her and she pulled the sword and shield from her back before charging towards the chaos. Immediately she began to channel her energies into a shield around herself that flowed outward and a faint blue glow enveloped the other Alliance soldiers close enough to her.  Vylia spotted another blast and heard shouting as she neared the trail, already spotting a dead satyr in the dirt.   Looking up, she saw a couple of the satyrs turning back for the pass only to be cut off by the night elf warrior’s swords and the dwarf next to her.  Her vision was quickly blocked though as a satyr rushed for her, arms outward and claws clicking against one another.  In a swift move, she swung her blade to parry their left arm and caught the claws from their right on her shield.  A quick and forceful kick to their stomach knocked them back and opened them up for a stab.  Blood spurted from the wound and stained the snow.  She retaliated with a second stab and quickly moved towards the center of the melee.

 She twirled her sword once in her hand and thrust it into the earth.  Gold light shot out from it across the earth and began to burn the other satyrs caught in it.  One spun around on his hooves to her, swinging a scythe.  The strike scrapped across her plate and she returned the favor by slamming the sword’s pommel into their gut as she pulled it out of the ground. A quick swing of her shield into their face was all she needed to get them to back up.  Another came from the flank and jumped for her, only for a pair of knives land in its throat.  Glancing over, she saw Vadralis; a dagger in one hand and a pair of throwing knives in the other.  He swiftly swung his hand out towards her, sending the two knives into the other satyr. Both landed square in its chest and opened it up to a swing from Vylia to open its belly.

 “Hellcaller!” Vadralis shouted.

 “I see him!” she called, charging for the largest of the satyrs.  Thanks to incredible amounts of fel energies, it towered over the others with twisted and coiling horns.  Its fur was a sick yellow green and what skin she could see, was the color of dried blood. Foul magic seeped from his claws as he began to reanimate his fallen comrades.  In immediate response, she began to fill her shield with light.

 Her partner spun around as the satyr he’d just killed got back to its feet amidst a green and red glow. “Can you-“  

 She didn’t wait to respond and swung her shield-arm out.  A golden duplicate of magic shot from it and collided in the hellcaller’s jaw before ricocheting off and colliding with a satyr engaged with the dwarf. The reanimation spell was stopped and the dead collapsed once more.  Taking the opportunity, Vylia charged the hellcaller.  It swung a claw out and a magic skull shot from his palm for her, only to be blocked by the shield.  Having closed the distance, she retaliated with slamming the edge of her shield into them. The blow was followed up by a stab for their chest.  Behind her, Vadralis dueled another, catching their claws in a dagger as he threw snow in their face.  The moment of distraction was all he needed to get to their flank and drive his second dagger into their throat to open it.

 The hellcaller raised a claw to stab at Vylia, only for a bullet to strike its hand.  She thanked Jolic silently before slashing vertically down. A return swing went up, creating two deep gashes along its body.  As the hellcaller stumbled, she jumped for it, driving her sword into its chest as her hooves landed in its stomach.  It screamed furiously as it fell onto its back into the consecrated earth.  Its fur burned white as Vylia pulled the sword out and stabbed through its throat.  One more satyr fell, consumed by a fireball from one of the two mages and it was done. She caught her breath as she stepped off and into the bloodied snow.  There were going to be a few new bruises and cuts from the fight on her, but it had gone incredibly well thanks to the planning and preparations.

  Vadralis carefully knelt down and tugged at the simple rope belt the hellcaller wore.  He began to inspect the vial upon it.  The rest of the group began to gather with him.  He frowned behind the thick bandana wrapped around his face.

 “What is it?” Vylia asked, sheathing her sword and placing the shield on her back once more.  

 “I can’t be sure,” he started,” but this doesn’t look like just regular slime from felwood.”  He quickly placed it in a pouch on his belt. “We need to get it tested.”

 “If it’s The Legion at work here, it could’ve been given to them by someone,” the dwarf in the group said.

 “We need to get it to Moonglade then.”  He looked about the group.  “Good work everyone.  Let’s get back to the camp.  We’ll start for Moonglade first thing in the morning.”

Bit of a longer piece here, but what the heck?  May even continue this bit as they work to stop the satyrs from getting a foothold.  The idea of how to go about this one too was to think of one of the ‘breadcrumb’ quests that can lead to a player from zone to zone.

Almost put in a keep reading bit to keep it from just going on and on.  If it was over 2k though, I’d have put one in.  Which, well, might happen.

I’m having a lot of fun doing these prompts too.  With a little luck, another will come tonight!

Previous Pieces:  Letter, Losing Someone, Memory and Dimensional Ship, Discovery.

More to come!  Thanks for reading!