―twenty-three. satyr x wind spirit (an unlikely love story) ((not a lemon))

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◤                                                       ◥
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔
𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐊𝐄,
𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐒?
◣                                                        ◢

ONCE AGAIN, LEO WAS VERY AMUSED. Sure, the random lady who had appeared out of no where had scared them all, most of them had only flinched, with the bonus of Jason's hand enwrapping around the hilt of his store. Charlie's reaction, however, was, well animated. As all her actions often were. Her hand was on his shoulder as she bent down slightly, taking deep breaths, her other hand holding her clothes tightly just above her chest, where her heart was sure to be beating a thousand miles a minute.

Raccoon Leo was copying her actions — genuinely or mockingly, it was hard to tell. His little paw clutching his fur and the other leaning on the side of Jason's head head, from where he had decided to ride on his shoulder, panting.

The woman didn't seem to mind, perhaps she got this reaction often. She floated up to them. Literally floated. She was pretty in that elfish way Leo had learned to associate with the nature spirits at Camp Half-Blood — petite, slightly pointy ears, and an ageless face that could've been sixteen or thirty. Her brown eyes twinkled cheerfully. Even though there was no wind, her dark hair blew in slow motion, shampoo-commercial style. Her white gown billowed around her like parachute material. They couldn't tell if she had feet, but if so, they didn't touch the floor. She had a white tablet in her hand. ''Are you from Lord Zeus?'' She asked. ''We've been expecting you.''

Jason tried to respond, but it was a little too hard to think straight, because he'd realised the woman was see-through. Her shape faded in and out like she was made of fog.

''Are you a ghost?'' He asked.

Right away, he knew he'd insulted her. The raccoon on his shoulder squeaked, as though he was talking, and lightly hit the side of Jason's head with his paw, as though a mother scolding his child as he crossed his arms.

Mellie's smile turned into a pout. ''I'm an aura, sir. A wind nymph, as you might expect, working for the lord of the winds. My name is Mellie. We don't have ghosts.''

Piper came to the rescue. ''No, of course you don't! My friend simply mistook you for Helen of Troy, the most beautiful mortal of all time. It's an easy mistake.''

Wow, she was good. The compliment seemed a little over the top, but Mellie the aura blushed. ''Oh... well then, so are you from Zeus?''

''Er,'' Jason said, side-eyeing his friends. ''I'm the son of Zeus, yeah.''

''Excellent! Please, right this way.'' She led them through some security doors into another lobby, consulting her tablet as she floated. She didn't look where she was going, but apparently it didn't matter as she drifted straight through a marble column with no problem. ''We're out of prime time now, so that's good,'' she mused. ''I can fit you in right before his 11:12 spot.''

''Um, okay,'' Jason said. ''Thank you?''

The lobby was a pretty distracting place. Winds blasted around them, so Charlie felt like she was pushing through an invisible crowd. Doors blew open and slammed by themselves.

The things Charlie could see were just as bizzare. Paper airplanes all different sizes and shapes sped around, and other wind nymphs, aurai, would occasionally pluck them out of the air, unfold and read them, then toss them back into the air where the planes would refold themselves and keep flying.

Charlie slowed her pace, moving to the back of their small group, where she, too, took one out of the sky — almost as elegantly as the aurai. She unfolded it, frowning when she saw the chicken-scratch handwriting. She reached forwards, tugging on the back of Leo's sleeve, who turned almost instantly. ''Hey, Leo, your handwriting's pretty shit, can you decipher this?''

Leo, whilst insulted, understood that she had a point, so, also side-eyeing the rest of the group to avoid getting caught and in trouble, moved to hide it from their sight whilst also going to read it. ''Uh, yeah, no. I got nothing.''

Charlie stretched the paper out, being careful not to rip it, and brought it closer to her face. ''I think that says Caleb.''

''Oh, right, I was thinking that too but I wasn't sure why names would be on it.'' He gently reached to her arm, pulling it so he could have his turn in moving his face closer. ''Right, so that bit's also a name... Raceal? Yeah, that's right... And that there, is an 'F'... so, what could that be?''

The temples of their foreheads brushed together, strands of hair loosely knotting together as she moved to look again. ''I'm not sure, but that's definitely 'boiler room' — weird, I didn't think a place as strange as this would have one.''

''Okay, so if we fill in the gaps... Uh, Charlie?'' Leo caught onto it before she did, eyes widening in realisation as Charlie stuck her tongue out, still decoding it.

'''I caught, Caleb and Raceal f-something, in the boiler room'? What could— Oh my gods, Leo, some dirty-ass air spirits were shagging in the—'' She looked up to share her late discovery, but Leo slammed his hand over her mouth, turning his head away as he winced.

''Do not say it out loud, I'm trying to erase the image from my mind.''

''But, they're like, invisible and the timing's not synced up, so—''

''Stop!'' He pressed his hand tighter on her mouth, so all he could hear was the muffling. Not daring to look at the paper, as if that would make a difference, he swatted at it, finally grasping it, and chucked it over his shoulder, where it resumed its original shape and joined the others in the air. He shuddered, hand finally leaving Charlie's mouth, who pulled a weird frown as she tried not to laugh at him.

An ugly creature fluttered past. She looked like a mix between an old lady and a chicken on steroids. She had a wrinkled face with black hair ties in a hairnet, arms like human plus wings like a chicken, and a fat, feathered body with talons for feet. It was amazing she could fly at all. She kept drifting around and bumping into things like a parade balloon.

''Not an aura?'' Charlie joked as the creature wobbled by.

Mellie laughed. ''That's a harpy, of course. Our, ah, ugly stepsisters, I suppose you would say. Don't you have harpies on Olympus? They're spirits of violent gusts, unlike us aurai. We're all gentle breezes.''

She batted her eyes.

'''Course you are,'' Charlie smiled.

Leo rolled his eyes, knocking Piper's elbow with his as the other three led the way, chuckling slightly. ''Doesn't she take a break? She flirts with anything that breathes.''

''You're just jealous,'' Piper snickered. Leo furrowed his eyebrows— what? He didn't get to ask, as she turned towards Mellie. ''So, you were taking us to see Aeolus?''

Mellie led them through a set of doors like an airlock. Above the interior door, a green light blinked. ''We have a few minutes before he starts,'' she said cheerfully. ''He probably won't kill you if we go in now. Come along!''

''Probably?'' Leo said, eyebrows raising as he seemed to be the only one picking up on the giant red flag.

Charlie turned and winked. ''Don't worry, Curls, I'll save ya!''

He was chuckling, until he caught sight of Piper's stare, and then he felt his ears turn red. Why was she suddenly studying his every move? She was wrong, he wasn't jealous, so why was she winking at him so subtly as Charlie turned back around?

The central section of Aeolus's fortress was as big as a cathedral, with soaring domed roofs covered in silver. Television equipment floated randomly through the air — cameras, spotlights, set pieces, potted plants. And there was no floor. Charlie nearly fell into the chasm, before Jason pulled her back, extending his arms out so Piper and Leo didn't continue walking too. Raccoon Leo, who was perfectly safe on Jason's shoulder, gasped and clung to the side of his face, making a few marks across his nose as he squaled dramatically.

An enormous circular put plunged into the heart of the mountain. It was probably half a mile deep, honeycombed with caves. Some of the tunnels probably led straight outside. Charlie remembered seeing winds blast out of them when they'd been on Pikes Peak. Other caves were sealed with some glistening material like glass or wax. The whole cavern bustled with harpies, aurai, and paper airplanes, but for someone who couldn't fly, it would be a very fatal flall.

''Holy—! Hey, Mellie. A little warning next time!''

''Oh, my,'' Mellie gasped. ''I'm so sorry.'' She unclipped a walkie-talkie from somewhere inside her robes and spoke into it. ''Hello, sets? Is that Nuggets? Hi, Nuggets. Could we get a floor in the main studio, please? Yes, a solid one. Thank you.''

Jason moved his hands down, one coming up to his face where he grabbed Leo's back and pulled him away from his face, causing the marks on his nose to become scratches. He turned and dumped him on Piper's head. ''Okay, your turn.''

Piper grinned, taking the Raccoon down to cradle him as if he was a baby. Jason stared in disbelief.

''You're on the raccoon's side? Really?''

''There are no sides, Jason, it's a raccoon,'' she said, subtly looking up from where her head was tilted down, adding on what she new would annoy him, ''But if there were sides, then yes, I'd be on little R-L's.''

Jason was interrupted as a few harpies flew past him, coming from all sorts of directions, but the majority came from inside the pit — three dozen or so demon-chicken ladies, all carrying squares of various building material. They went to work hammering and gluing — and using large quantities of duct tape, which held no reassurance at all. In no time, there was a makeshift floor snaking out over the chasm. It was made of plywood, marble blocks, carpet squares, wedges of grassed sod — just about anything.

''That's can't be safe.''

''Oh, it is!'' Mellie assured them. ''The harpies are very good.

Easy for her to say. She just drifted across without touching the floor, but Jason decided he had the best chance at surviving, since he could fly, so he stepped out first. Amazingly the floor held.

Piper gripped his hand and followed him. ''If I fall, you're catching me.''

''Uh, sure.'' Jason hoped he wasn't blushing.

Leo stepped out. ''You're catching me, too, Superman. But I ain't holding your hand.''

''Speak for yourself, scooch over,'' Charlie wafted Leo to the side, grabbing hold of Jason's other spare hand — affectively snapping him out of whatever trance Piper had him under for a few seconds, he turned to her, unamused.

If Charlie new she had interrupted a moment between the two of them, she didn't care. She reached out for Leo.

''You sure you wanna be a pancake, Curls?''

He bit his lip, staring at it, and then at the floor. Begrudgingly, he took it, receiving a sub-conscious squeeze from Charlie as they began to walk, causing the ends of his lips beginning to lift up.

Because they all had their own walking paces, they formed a sort of uneven '︵' shape, meaning that when Leo absently looked to his right, he could easily see Piper staring at his and Charlie's hand with raised eyebrows, eyes filtering up to look at him.

''I just don't want to be a pancake,'' he said, in a 'duh' sort of voice.

Charlie turned to glance at him, a single eyebrow raised as she hummed. ''Uh huh, sure Curls.''

His ears went red when he realised the others had no context to why he had said that. He glared at Piper, who was beginning to smile, looking forwards again as she whistled innocently. Raccoon Leo — who had migrated onto the top of her head again — face-palmed, shaking his head.

Great, Leo thought, now I'm being judged by a rodent.

Mellie led them towards the middle of the chamber, where a loose sphere of flat-panel video screens floated around a kind of control centre. A man hovered inside, checking monitors and reading paper airplane messages.

Charlie and Leo simultaneously winced.

The man paid them no attention as Mellie brought them forward. She pushed a forty-two inch Sony out of their way and led them into the control area.

Leo whistled. ''I got to get a room like this.''

The floating screens showed all sorts of television programs. Some Charlie recognised — news broadcasts, mostly, and the occasional police report channel — but some programs looked a little strange: gladiators fighting, demigods battling monsters. Maybe they were movies, but they looked more like reality shows.

At the far end of the sphere was a silky blue backdrop, like a cinema screen, with cameras and studio lights floating around it.

The man in the centre was talking into an earpiece phone. He had a remote control in each hand and was pointing them at various screens, seemingly at random.

He wore a business suit that looked like the sky — blue mostly, but dappled with clouds that changed and darkened and moved across the fabric. He looked like he was in his sixties, with a shock of white hair, but he had a ton of stage make-up on, and that smooth plastic-surgery look to his face, so he appeared not really young, not really old, just wrong — like a Ken doll someone had halfway melted in a microwave. His eyes darted back and forth from screen to screen, like he was trying to absorb everything at once. He muttered things into his phone, and his mouth kept twitching.

He was either amused, or crazy, or both.

Mellie floated towards him. ''Ah, Sir, Mr. Aeolus, these demigods—''

''Hold it!'' He held up a hand to silence her, then pointed at one of the screens. ''Watch!''

It was one of those storm-chaser programs, where insane thrill-seekers drive after tornados. Charlie smiled fondly, she had been one during the time where she was 'dead' — an odd phase to go through. As she watched, a Jeep plowed straight into a funnel cloud and got tossed into the sky.

Aeolus shrieked with delight. ''The Disaster Channel. People do that on purpose!'' He turned towards Jason with a mad grin. ''Isn't that amazing? Let's watch again.''

''Um, sir,'' Mellie said, ''This is Jason, son of—''

''Yes, yes, I remember,'' Aeolus said. ''You're back. How did it go?''

Jason hesitated. ''Sorry? I think you've mistaken me—''

''No, no, Jason Grace, aren't you? It was — what — last year? You were on your way to fight a Sea Monster, I believe.''

"I—I don't remember."

Aelous laughed. "Must not have been a very good sea monster! No, I remember every hero who's ever come to me for aid. Odysseus — gods, he docked at my island for a month! At least you only stayed a few days. Now, watch this video. These ducks get sucked straight into—"

"Sir," Mellie interrupted. "Two minutes to air."

"Air!" Aeolus exclaimed. "I love air. How do I look? Makeup!"

Immediately a small tornado of brushes, blotters, and cotton balls descended on Aeolus. They blurred across his face in a cloud of flesh-tone smoke until his coloration was even more gruesome than before. Wind swirled through his hair and left it sticking up like a frosted Christmas tree.

"Mr. Aeolus." Jason slipped off the golden backpack. "We brought you these rogue storm spirits."

"Did you!" Aeolus looked at the bag like it was a gift from a fan — something he really didn't want. "Well, how nice."

Leo nudged him, and Jason offered the bag. "Boreas sent us to capture them for you. We hope you'll accept them and stop — you know — ordering demigods to be killed."

Aeolus laughed, and looked incredulously at Mellie. "Demigods be killed — did I order that?"

Mellie checked her computer tablet. "Yes, sir, fifteenth of September. 'Storm spirits released by the death of Typhon, demigods to be held responsible,' etc... yes, a general order for them all to be killed."

"Oh, pish," Aeolus said. "I was just grumpy. Rescind that order, Mellie, and um, who's on guard duty — Teriyaki? — Teri, take these storm spirits down to cell block Fourteen E, will you?"

A harpy swooped out of nowhere, snatched the golden bag, and spiralled into the abyss.

Aeolus grinned at Jason. "Now, sorry about that kill-on-sight business. But gods, I really was mad, wasn't I?" His face suddenly darkened, and his suit did the same, the lapels flashing with lightning. "You know... I remember now. Almost seemed like a voice was telling me to give that order. A little cold tingle on the back of my neck."

Just like that, all sense of security left. Charlie physically tightened up, one hand releasing Jason's to curl behind her back, reaching for her dagger, just in case.

''A... Um, voice in your head, sir?'' Jason asked, picking up on it too, as the hand Charlie had just released was casually used to gesture at Aeolus, making it less obvious when it came back to rest on the hilt of his sword.

''Yes. How odd. Mellie, should we kill them?''

''No, sir,'' she said patiently. ''They just brought us the storm spirits, which makes everything all right.''

''Of course,'' Aeolus laughed. ''Sorry, Mellie, Let's send the demigods something nice. A box of chocolates, perhaps.''

''A box of chocolates to every demigod in the world, sir?''

''No, too expensive. Nevermind.''

''Well,'' Charlie said, ''I'm sure just a box of chocolates for us would suffice—''

''Wait, it's time, I'm on!'' Aeolus flew off toward the blue screen as newscast music started to play.

Jason looked at the others, who seemed just as confused as he was. ''Mellie,'' he said. ''Is he, always like that?''

She smiled sheepishly. ''Well, you know what they say. If you don't like his mood, wait five minutes. That expression, 'whichever way the wind blows', that was based on him.''

''And that thing about the sea monster,'' Jason said. ''Was I here before?''

Mellie blushed. ''I'm sorry, I don't remember. I'm Mr. Aeolus's new assistant. I've been with him longer than most, but still — not that long.''

''How long do his assistants usually last?'' PIper asked.

''Oh...'' Mellie thought for a moment. ''I've been doing this for... twelve hours?''

A voice blared from the floating speakers. ''And now, weather every twelve minutes! Here's your forecaster for Olympian Weather — the OW! Channel — Aeolus!''

Lights blazed on Aeolus, who was now standing in front of the blue screen. His smile was unnaturally white, and he looked like he'd had so much caffeine, his face was about to explode.

''Hello, Olympus! Aeolus, master of the winds, here, with weather every twelve minutes! We'll have a low-pressure system moving over Florida today, so expect milder temperatures since Demeter wishes to spare the citrus farmers!''

He gestured at the blue screen, but when Charlie checked the monitors, she saw that a digital image was being projected behind Aeolus, so it looked like he was standing in front of the US map, with animated smiley suns and frowny rain clouds.

''Along the eastern seaboard — oh, hold on.'' He tapped his earpiece. ''Sorry folks! Poseidon is angry with Miami today, so it looks like that Florida freeze is back on! Sorry, Demeter. Over in the Midwest, I'm not sure what St. Louis did to offend Zeus, but you can expect winter storms! Boreas himself is being called down to punish the area with ice. Bad news, Missouri! No, wait. Hephaestus feels sorry for central Missouri, so you all will have much more moderate temperatures and sunny skies.''

Aeolus kept going like that — forecasting each area of the country and changing his prediction two or three times as he got messages over his earpiece — the gods

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