Peter and Mark lead the group towards the back of TFU’s frat house. The back yard was lined with tall privacy bushes, but there were a few large gaps if you knew where to look. Mark was never sure if the gaps had been planted there intentionally, or if someone had just fallen through while playing a game of catch one too many times. Come to think of it, it might have been because of sneaking around like this.
“Wait…!” Peter whispered at the group, signaling form them to stop.
“What’s wrong?” Gabe poked his head around. “Oh hell…!” He quickly jumped back behind the bush.
The rest of the group poked their head around the shrubbery. Standing in the back yard were about eight different satyrs. Two of them were tossing a frisbee around, and then there were two smaller groups of satyrs chatting. The gang could hear their laughter from the other side of the back yard. They seemed to be having a good time, and everyone had a wine glass in their hand.
“Baah? Seems fine to me?” Freetail wagged curiously, “I think I recognize one of them from my conjuring class.”
Peter looked sheepish the group stared at him, “Sorry, I just… this leaf looked really good.” He stuck his muzzle into the bush and gave it a quick chomp.
Everyone got a good laugh out of it. Mark and Merlin hung back and studied the scene a bit longer. “I expected more fucking,” Mark whispered.
Freetail furrowed his brow at Mark. “Hey, we’re not always hooking up.”
“Just most of the time?” Merlin laughed. “What’s the big deal Gabe?”
The group turned around just in time to watch the soccer player shed his shorts. He had turned around and was in the process of quickly sliding his legs into his goat pants.
"That's... a lot of satyrs!" Gabe tugged the pants up hastily, “I’m- Baah! -not planning on showing up to class on Monday with hooves, thank you very much.” Gabe grinned, sliding his horn headband on. “They can’t make me a satyr if I already am one.”
His legs shimmered a bit as they once again took on a satyric appearance. He looked at his soccer shorts for a moment before sliding them on over his furry legs. They didn’t have a tail hole on them, and didn’t look particularly comfortable.
“Baah, oh come on, I know you like ‘em.” Freetail bumped one of his horns against Gabe’s. “You’re seriously wearing pants over your pants?”
Gabe nodded, “They said it was a costume party after all.” He bounced his soccer ball off his horns, “If anyone asks I’m David Baahham.”
He reached out to catch the ball, but it went bouncing off into the shrubs instead. Gabe stumbled through and popped out on the other side after it.
“Well, no time like the present.” Freetail turned and followed after him.
Peter plucked a stem out of his teeth, quickly following them in pursuit.
Merlin started to try and figure out how to walk through the bush without getting his robe tangled on something. He glanced back at Mark, “Remember, we’re here to figure out how to…” His voice trailed off as he looked up at the frat house.
“…turn everyone back?” Mark offered, sliding through behind him.
“Clean up this mess one way or another.” He patted the pledge on the back, “Why don’t you help me find this punch bowl of yours? Or maybe the head of the frat…” The wizard looked up at the building again, “Does this place feel… especially magical to you?”
Mark blinked, “I wouldn’t know?”
“Come on.” He gestured for Mark to follow him, “We can try to keep each other human.”
Merlin finished the statement with a laugh, but Mark wasn’t sure he was joking. They crossed the back yard without any issues. No one seemed to be on the lookout for people sneaking in. Gabe’s errant soccer ball had turned into an impromptu game of keep away with the two frisbee satyrs.
Mark saw Freetail and Peter chatting with one of the groups outside. He could catch a few snippets of their conversation, but was still trying to get a hang of bleated accents.
“Baah! There you are Peter! You missed initiation!” One of the satyrs was offering him a glass of wine.
“I’d say someone initiated the hell out of him.” Another satyr laughed.
Freetail wagged eagerly, “Are you still taking new members?”
Merlin doubled back, tugging Mark along, “Come on, they’ll catch up.”
He lead Mark in through a sliding glass door into the kitchen, “I’m not sure how much help they’ll be tonight.” He gave Mark a slightly curious look as he stepped inside. “Did you all knock over a liquor store or something?” He glanced around the frat’s large kitchen.
Nearly every surface seemed to have a wine bottle sitting on it. Someone had clearly tried sorting the room by style at some point, but the reds and whites were already starting to get intermixed.
“Huh.” Mark glanced around the room. “I don’t ever think I’ve see wine at our parties before. We usually rent a keg.” He reached down to one of the bottles curiously.
Merlin swatted his hand and shook his head, “Not a good idea.”
The wizard turned and made his way through the kitchen. There were more mingling satyrs here, but overall he was just getting your typical house party vibes.
Merlin let out a small hmm as he made his way out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Mark quickly followed suit, and then stopped in his tracks.
There were four satyrs in the corner rubbing their sheaths. They were all gathered around a pent up centaur, and it was clear from their posture that they were in the early stages of a dick measuring contest. The centaur’s shirt had long been discarded on the table. Mark was pretty sure it was a different horse man from Gabe’s goalie friend?
“This is a bit more of what I expected,” Mark nudged Merlin.
Instead of staring at the satyr, the wizard simply looked at… everything. This wasn’t the dining room he expected from a bunch of college kids. It had a much more rustic-yet-classy feel to it, with a surprising amount of carved wood touches.
“Is this… new?” Merlin whispered.
“For our parties? Yes.” Mark nodded, noticing more discarded clothing piled up in the corner of the room, “Well maybe there was that one time…”
It was Merlin’s turn to nudge Mark, “Just don’t stare and you’ll be fine.” He pointed around the room, “No, I mean the frat house.”
Merlin pointed at few places around the room. There was a massive wooden banquet table, plush upholstered chairs, and a low key goat vibe in some of the decorations. The doorway to the room features a pair of ram horns (partially obscured by a dangling pair of boxers), and there were a few hooves carved into the table legs. All of the chairs had notably open backs for a tail to wag freely.
“Umm…” Mark spun around, trying to look for something out of place, “I’m pretty sure this is how I remember it?” He scanned the room, then looked back at Merlin, “More magic stuff?”
“I just would have expected your standard plastic table and metal chairs setup.” He ran his fingers along the back of one of the dining room’s wooden chairs. “This looks like a banquet hall for satyrs.”
Mark nodded, “Well yeah, TFU’s a-“ Mark suddenly caught himself. “Umm…”
“No, go ahead.” Merlin looked at him, “Finish the sentence.”
Mark looked a little flush, “TFU’s a satyr frat.”
“You’re rushing a satyr frat?” Merlin raised an eyebrow.
The pledge nodded slowly, “I think so? TFU’s a nice group of guys.” He blushed, “A little over-egger sometimes, but they’re always welcoming new guys to their herd.” He rubbed the back of his head, “That’s new too huh?”
“Like I said… There’s a lot of magic here. I’m not surprised it’s effecting you.” He cocked his head, looking around. “Usually this sort of reality shift is my doing.”
“You were thinking of doing this anyways, right? Maybe someone beat you to the punch.” Mark kept walking towards the common area.
Merlin followed after him, but came to another stop. “Hold up.” He waved Mark closer.
Mark hadn’t paid attention to one of the room’s larger decorations. Standing by the door was a massive suit of rusty metal armor. The collection of steel plates had long oxidized and taken on a teal hue, but it was still an impressive example of medieval armor. The wizard was giving it a rather close inspection.
“Oh!” Mark laughed, “That’s Sir Silver.” He patted the armor’s shoulder, “He’s the house’s snack guardian.” He gestured up at the armor, “He’s said to haunt anyone who tries to do a late night pantry raid.”
Merlin looked the display over curiously. The suit of armor was supported by a sturdy frame, and had a small museum-style placard sitting in front of it.
“The Personal Armor of Sir Dogoud Silver, England, 16th Century. Donated By Nick Fargo.”
Mark pointed into the next room, “The dining room’s a little small, we usually keep our appetizers out in the common area during parties.”
“This has always been here too?” Merlin pointed at the suit.
Mark nodded, “Long as I can remember.”
“Hmm…” Merlin ran his fingers through his hair, “Maybe this is my doing after all.”
Mark tilted his head, “What do you mean?”
Before Merlin could respond, Mark heard someone in the next room call out to him, “Baah, hey pledge, you made it!”
The wizard glanced over his shoulder, “Go on. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“But- You sure?“ Mark started. He heard someone else bleat his name. “Alright, don’t take too long.”
Merlin watched Mark run off into the next room. He then focused his full attention back on the imposing suit of armor.
“How you holding up there Nick?” Merlin grinned, tapping the suit’s chest piece.