[Hell, as it turns out, looks a lot like a sidewalk cafe in Évora, Portugal.
Reyna sits there at a table along with a boy Souji will recognize as Nico, and a faun- no, satyr, who carries a baseball bat and a menacing look. They've got some kind of pastry in front of them, and they're in the middle of a discussion. Nico looks uncomfortable; he twists a silver skull ring on his finger.
"Nico, how can we help you?" Reyna asks.
He looks stunned for a moment or two. "I'm not sure," he admits. "You've already let me rest as much as possible. That's important. Perhaps you can lend me your strength again. This next jump will be the longest. I'll have to muster enough energy to get us across the Atlantic."
"You'll succeed," Reyna promises. "Once we're back in the U.S., we should encounter fewer monsters. I might even be able to get help from retired legionnaires along the eastern seaboard. They are obliged to aid any Roman demigod who calls on them."
The satyr grunts. "If Octavian hasn't already won them over. In which case, you might find yourself arrested for treason."
Reyna's gaze flicks to the satyr, her eyes narrowing. "Coach," Reyna scolds, "not helping."
"Hey just sayin'. Personally, I wish we could stay in Évora longer. Good food, good money, and so far no sign of those figurative wolves--"
A gold dog - Aurum - springs to his feet, along with a silver dog. Both of them let out low growls as the howling of wolves pierce the air, and before any of them can move, wolves appear from every direction - leaping across rooftops, converging on them from all sides. The largest of them saunters forward, slowly beginning to change into a tall, wiry man with a haggard face and glowing red eyes, his greasy black hair adorned with a crown made of finger bones.
"Ah, little satyr..." The man grins. "Your wish is granted! You will stay in Évora forever, because sadly for you, my figurative wolves are literally wolves."
"You're not Orion," Nico blurts out, and the man laughs.
"Indeed not. Orion has merely employed me to assist him in his hunt. I am--"
"Lycaon," Reyna interrupts. "The first werewolf."
The man looks to her and bows mockingly. "Reyna Ramírez-Arellano, praetor of Rome. One of Lupa's whelps! I'm pleased you recognize me. No doubt, I am the stuff of your nightmares."
"The stuff of my indigestion, perhaps," Reyna deadpans, pulling a foldable camping knife from the belt pouch at her waist. She flicks it open; the wolves snarl and back away. "I never travel without a silver weapon."
Lycaon bares his teeth. "Would you keep a dozen wolves and their king at bay with a pocketknife? I heard you were brave, filia Romana. I did not realize you were foolhardy."
Reyna scoffs as her dogs crouch at her side, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. She takes note of the satyr gripping his baseball bat, and of Nico reaching for the hilt of his sword, as she counts the wolves. A dozen of them and their king - Lycaon, Nico, and the werewolf exchange banter as she tries to come up with a plan.
There are so many of them. Too many of them.
Lycaon explains his plan - detain them, and spill their blood on sacred ground to make this land his own. Reyna grits her teeth.
Nico, however, comes up with a plan before she does.
"Coach," he says, "you can climb?"
The satyr scoffs. "I'm half goat. Of course I can climb!"
"Get up to the statue and secure the rigging. Make a rope ladder and drop it down for us."
"Uh, but the pack of wolves--"
"Reyna," Nico says, "you and your dogs will have to cover our retreat."
Reyna nods, her grip tightening on the hilt of her pocketknife. "Understood."
Lycaon howls with laughter. "Retreat to where, son of Hades? There is no escape. You cannot kill us!"
"Maybe not," Nico says. "But I can slow you down."
He spreads his hands, and the ground explodes - bones of all kind emerge from the earth, obscuring the wolves from their sight, trapping them where they stand. Lycaon, trapped in a cocoon of rib bones, lets out a howl.
"You worthless child!" he roars. "I will rip the flesh from your limbs!"
"Coach, go!" Nico yells.
As the satyr springs toward the temple two wolves break free from the thicket of bones. Reyna hurls her knife and impales one in the neck; her dogs pounce on the other. Aurum's fangs and claws don't do anything, but Argentum sinks his teeth into the wolf's neck; it and the other dissolve into shadows.
...and where Reyna's memory ends, Souji's begins.]
[There's something about the thrill of fights that always gets Souji's blood boiling, and something about the promise of one that sets his entire soul at ease in the strangest of ways. Like any sword would be, most likely.
He doesn't really understand much of this as it comes, but he knows that Reyna is self-sufficient, that Nico is incredibly strong despite being a year younger than Tetsunosuke. There's talk of demigods, of werewolves, all manners of mystical things he just doesn't understand. And while there's a trill of panic when the numbers are counted - of course it's always an unfair fight - there's something about this small group that he has an incredible faith in.
When the fight finally erupts, his hands twitch subconsciously at his sides, since he's always Ready For Combat. Reyna and her dogs are honestly an impressive team...
And then the memory is shifting, red tangled into red, though it's a different kind of blood this time. Blood on the sheets, blood in his hand, blood covering the crumpled handkerchiefs surrounding his pillow. From Souji's perspective, it's just this empty room and the aching of his lungs and that painful, full-bodied cough that brings up mouthful after mouthful of blood. He can see a shadow outside of his room, hear the floorboards creak - hesitation.
But his begging for the screen to remain shut isn't heeded, and it's flung open with tremendous force. Souji is left nearly face-down despite his struggle to right himself, still coughing violently, still trying to beg. His visitor's face, when he finally looks up, is twisted in a hollowed-out sort of terror, like he's looking at death itself. It's a relatively short memory that slips away in curls of copper on his tongue, panic, and the rising sounds of terror from the man in his doorway.]
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toughchoices) wrote2018-06-15 08:05 pm
no subject
Reyna sits there at a table along with a boy Souji will recognize as Nico, and a faun- no, satyr, who carries a baseball bat and a menacing look. They've got some kind of pastry in front of them, and they're in the middle of a discussion. Nico looks uncomfortable; he twists a silver skull ring on his finger.
"Nico, how can we help you?" Reyna asks.
He looks stunned for a moment or two. "I'm not sure," he admits. "You've already let me rest as much as possible. That's important. Perhaps you can lend me your strength again. This next jump will be the longest. I'll have to muster enough energy to get us across the Atlantic."
"You'll succeed," Reyna promises. "Once we're back in the U.S., we should encounter fewer monsters. I might even be able to get help from retired legionnaires along the eastern seaboard. They are obliged to aid any Roman demigod who calls on them."
The satyr grunts. "If Octavian hasn't already won them over. In which case, you might find yourself arrested for treason."
Reyna's gaze flicks to the satyr, her eyes narrowing. "Coach," Reyna scolds, "not helping."
"Hey just sayin'. Personally, I wish we could stay in Évora longer. Good food, good money, and so far no sign of those figurative wolves--"
A gold dog - Aurum - springs to his feet, along with a silver dog. Both of them let out low growls as the howling of wolves pierce the air, and before any of them can move, wolves appear from every direction - leaping across rooftops, converging on them from all sides. The largest of them saunters forward, slowly beginning to change into a tall, wiry man with a haggard face and glowing red eyes, his greasy black hair adorned with a crown made of finger bones.
"Ah, little satyr..." The man grins. "Your wish is granted! You will stay in Évora forever, because sadly for you, my figurative wolves are literally wolves."
"You're not Orion," Nico blurts out, and the man laughs.
"Indeed not. Orion has merely employed me to assist him in his hunt. I am--"
"Lycaon," Reyna interrupts. "The first werewolf."
The man looks to her and bows mockingly. "Reyna Ramírez-Arellano, praetor of Rome. One of Lupa's whelps! I'm pleased you recognize me. No doubt, I am the stuff of your nightmares."
"The stuff of my indigestion, perhaps," Reyna deadpans, pulling a foldable camping knife from the belt pouch at her waist. She flicks it open; the wolves snarl and back away. "I never travel without a silver weapon."
Lycaon bares his teeth. "Would you keep a dozen wolves and their king at bay with a pocketknife? I heard you were brave, filia Romana. I did not realize you were foolhardy."
Reyna scoffs as her dogs crouch at her side, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. She takes note of the satyr gripping his baseball bat, and of Nico reaching for the hilt of his sword, as she counts the wolves. A dozen of them and their king - Lycaon, Nico, and the werewolf exchange banter as she tries to come up with a plan.
There are so many of them. Too many of them.
Lycaon explains his plan - detain them, and spill their blood on sacred ground to make this land his own. Reyna grits her teeth.
Nico, however, comes up with a plan before she does.
"Coach," he says, "you can climb?"
The satyr scoffs. "I'm half goat. Of course I can climb!"
"Get up to the statue and secure the rigging. Make a rope ladder and drop it down for us."
"Uh, but the pack of wolves--"
"Reyna," Nico says, "you and your dogs will have to cover our retreat."
Reyna nods, her grip tightening on the hilt of her pocketknife. "Understood."
Lycaon howls with laughter. "Retreat to where, son of Hades? There is no escape. You cannot kill us!"
"Maybe not," Nico says. "But I can slow you down."
He spreads his hands, and the ground explodes - bones of all kind emerge from the earth, obscuring the wolves from their sight, trapping them where they stand. Lycaon, trapped in a cocoon of rib bones, lets out a howl.
"You worthless child!" he roars. "I will rip the flesh from your limbs!"
"Coach, go!" Nico yells.
As the satyr springs toward the temple two wolves break free from the thicket of bones. Reyna hurls her knife and impales one in the neck; her dogs pounce on the other. Aurum's fangs and claws don't do anything, but Argentum sinks his teeth into the wolf's neck; it and the other dissolve into shadows.
...and where Reyna's memory ends, Souji's begins.]
no subject
He doesn't really understand much of this as it comes, but he knows that Reyna is self-sufficient, that Nico is incredibly strong despite being a year younger than Tetsunosuke. There's talk of demigods, of werewolves, all manners of mystical things he just doesn't understand. And while there's a trill of panic when the numbers are counted - of course it's always an unfair fight - there's something about this small group that he has an incredible faith in.
When the fight finally erupts, his hands twitch subconsciously at his sides, since he's always Ready For Combat. Reyna and her dogs are honestly an impressive team...
And then the memory is shifting, red tangled into red, though it's a different kind of blood this time. Blood on the sheets, blood in his hand, blood covering the crumpled handkerchiefs surrounding his pillow. From Souji's perspective, it's just this empty room and the aching of his lungs and that painful, full-bodied cough that brings up mouthful after mouthful of blood. He can see a shadow outside of his room, hear the floorboards creak - hesitation.
But his begging for the screen to remain shut isn't heeded, and it's flung open with tremendous force. Souji is left nearly face-down despite his struggle to right himself, still coughing violently, still trying to beg. His visitor's face, when he finally looks up, is twisted in a hollowed-out sort of terror, like he's looking at death itself. It's a relatively short memory that slips away in curls of copper on his tongue, panic, and the rising sounds of terror from the man in his doorway.]