do you feel like a young god? | calypso + ithaca [blitz]

я𝑜𝓈𝑒
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do you feel like a young god? | calypso + ithaca [blitz] Dec 30, 2015 1:19:05 GMT -5

Post by я𝑜𝓈𝑒 on Dec 30, 2015 1:19:05 GMT -5

"perhaps this - what i can only recognize as desire - was sparked from the clashing of the void against the rest of my crumbling structures."

{ he says "oh baby you know
we're going to be legends
i'm the king and you're the queen
and we will stumble through heaven ;

Desire is a traitor.
I cannot count how many times it has stabbed me in the back. My mind and my heart keep their word, they hold their promises under lock and key.

It will lead me to the brink of my own corruption, and I will carry out the rest.

It is not desire that beckons me to pick the lock of a closed bar and sneak inside with Ithaca - my own gang member - on arm. It is I who carries my own feet into trouble, it is I who presses my own lips against hers in some delusion that it isn't anything but wrong - aren't these kisses too sweet to be mistakes?

When my heart beats, I swear it sounds like a thunderous CRASH in my ears. And when my hand reaches out for hers to pull her along into the darkness of the bar - with the exception of a pair of neon signs on the wall - I swear (cross my heart and hope to die) that my body is made of pure sin.

"Come on," I say, "it'll be fun."

(Father always told me I'd grow up to be a sinner.)

{ if there's a light at the end
it's just the sun in your eyes
i know you want to go to heaven
but you're human tonight" ;

. . .

lyrics: "young god" by halsey.

[presto]

CALYPSO DELACROIX

[/presto]

"even stars burn out."

fox
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do you feel like a young god? | calypso + ithaca [blitz] Dec 30, 2015 2:52:47 GMT -5

Post by fox on Dec 30, 2015 2:52:47 GMT -5

Ithaca

The lock clicks open, and Calypso tugs her into bar.
The other girl’s skin glows in ghostly shades of green and red from the flashing signs, eyelashes casting evanescent shadows on her cheeks. And Ithaca knows the refined, dainty passions of gold-threaded bed sheets, of floral perfumes, and of crystal chandeliers hanging over anatomised sin. But this is different, a bit foreign – cruder. Warmer.

This is going to be a fucking party.

She’s all giddy and giggles without the help of any alcohol roaring fires in her bloodstream. But still, she runs in, trips over a thousand stools in the process, and pulls a bottle of whatever-the-fuck off the bar shelf, rotating the stopper until the booze comes spilling out.

“Here’s to…”
The new year,
the Wolfpack,
Calypso’s kiss still staining her lips.

“…Who the fuck knows,” Ithaca laughs. She tips the amber-coloured drink into her mouth, and it tastes of sweet and simple things, burning warm with the moonlit buzz of night.

But in a moment, her lips are leaving the bottle, finding their way back to Calypso’s in the darkness.

{on top of your temple}

Last Edit: Dec 30, 2015 21:31:03 GMT -5 by fox

я𝑜𝓈𝑒
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do you feel like a young god? | calypso + ithaca [blitz] Dec 30, 2015 3:50:39 GMT -5

Post by я𝑜𝓈𝑒 on Dec 30, 2015 3:50:39 GMT -5

"perhaps this - what i can only recognize as desire - was sparked from the clashing of the void against the rest of my crumbling structures."

{ he says "oh baby you know
we're going to be legends
i'm the king and you're the queen
and we will stumble through heaven ;

She says, with sun in her eyes, "Here's to . . . who the fuck knows." I grab a whiskey bottle from the counter of the bar and raise it into the air, letting my toast spill from my lips. "To who the fuck knows!" I shout at the top of my lungs - because no one can hear us, and if they can, I don't give a fuck.

I tip the bottle into my mouth, and liquid fire runs down my throat. "Though I don't need to be buzzed to kiss you." A crooked smile slinks up the side of my face, just barely illuminated by the neon light, dimmed by the distance.

I press the bottle to my lips again, and then I press them to hers.

{ if there's a light at the end
it's just the sun in your eyes
i know you want to go to heaven
but you're human tonight" ;

. . .

lyrics: "young god" by halsey.

[presto]

CALYPSO DELACROIX

[/presto]

"even stars burn out."

fox
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do you feel like a young god? | calypso + ithaca [blitz] Dec 30, 2015 21:34:10 GMT -5

Post by fox on Dec 30, 2015 21:34:10 GMT -5

Ithaca

Simple and sweet and burning turns into an inferno on Calypso’s lips, a red-tipped matchstick suddenly struck as their bodies meet. She is fire in this moment, not the immovable Mafia leader -- not the god perched upon the throne, commanding an empire that rises from the cold streets of Nine.

-- And she tastes like pleasure and pain underneath the harsh burn, like the bitterness of an ecstasy pill before it hits. There’s an incomprehensible thrill, an indiscernible line between the emotions (but Ithaca’s never been good at separating the two.) She supposes that old habits die hard, the primal hunger still lingering deep in her belly. If she could slice upon her abdomen, if she could peer inside -- then the desire would still be pulsing, bloody, starving for more.

She’s always wanted the things she could never have.
And she’s always paid dearly in the end -- too desperate, too blinded by the glittering raw glamour of her desires.

No, Ithaca doesn’t think it’s a very good idea. But with one hand, she cups Calypso’s cheek. And with the other, she starts to undo the buttons on her shirt.

Here’s to us.

{on top of your temple}

Last Edit: Dec 30, 2015 21:35:33 GMT -5 by fox

я𝑜𝓈𝑒
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do you feel like a young god? | calypso + ithaca [blitz] Dec 30, 2015 22:58:30 GMT -5

Post by я𝑜𝓈𝑒 on Dec 30, 2015 22:58:30 GMT -5

"perhaps this - what i can only recognize as desire - was sparked from the clashing of the void against the rest of my crumbling structures."

{ he says "oh baby you know
we're going to be legends
i'm the king and you're the queen
and we will stumble through heaven ;

With one hand, she meets my cheek with fire, and with the other, she begins to unbutton my shirt. We are wild tonight, but we are not wolves in a pack, we are not invincible mafia members. I feel like a teenager, for the first time in a long time. This is what they - we - do. We burn our tongues with bittersweet flames in a bottle and tip them to the skies until a blissful haze wraps around our heads. We run into the night and let our desires take our bodies.

There is a sun between Ithaca and I. It is blazing hot and scorching, but I love the way fire feels against my skin. I kiss her again, and she tastes like whiskey and warmth and happiness.

I kiss her again, and my heart morphs into a hammer in my chest as my hand drifts up to her waist and gradually slides down the curve of her hips to hook my fingers at the top of her jeans.

This feels like a dream, but no one is shaking me awake.

{fade out.}

{ if there's a light at the end
it's just the sun in your eyes
i know you want to go to heaven
but you're human tonight" ;

. . .

lyrics: "young god" by halsey.

[presto]

CALYPSO DELACROIX

[/presto]

"even stars burn out."

fox
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but a butt ?

do you feel like a young god? | calypso + ithaca [blitz] Jan 17, 2016 1:00:33 GMT -5

Post by fox on Jan 17, 2016 1:00:33 GMT -5

I T H A C A F E I

For a long time, she had only known the crawl of greed -- the way fingers felt, curling into claws as they grasped for skin, making their way up, all the way up up up her spine and to the nape of her neck, leaving a trail of tender purples behind. In their desperation, there was a vulnerability that was dangerous, a sore she knew how to prod raw without breaking blood.

(Still, she used to keep a pocket knife sewn in the hems of her dress. But she had been lucky. Her body and their hunger, their shame had been a sufficient enough weapon to keep them at bay.)

And then she'd met him, a man who was much more than just the shadows and sins she commanded under lunar light. Precise, gentle -- with him, she felt like artwork to be admired in clear sight, to be touched conscientiously, to be used with delicate deliberation. He had known how to tame greed, let it purr softly in his belly and sway it's tail in calculated contentment.

She'd mistaken this carefulness for care. And she had mistaken this indifference for carefulness. (But whose fault was it in the end? Who was to blame for what was lost?)

Leaning against the counter, half-dressed in each other's clothes, she sips from the bottle of whiskey in silence. She had thought that this would be fun, silly, a drunken story to bury when it was all over. And she had promised herself that this would be nothing more than teenage nonsense, the instinctual desire for things she could never really have -- satisfied with a kiss from Calypso Delacroix. Yet there's a bitterness Ithaca can't place, a somberness in her mood.

There's the accidental ache of finding truth in playing fools. There's the significance in finding what she had never known. And there's wanting to tell Calypso all of this, but standing up instead and saying, "Caly, where the fuck are my pants?"

THE DEVIL SPOKE SO I LEANED A LITTLE CLOSER.

Last Edit: Jan 17, 2016 1:02:49 GMT -5 by fox

я𝑜𝓈𝑒
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Pronouns: she/her/they/them
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anyway don't be a stranger

do you feel like a young god? | calypso + ithaca [blitz] Feb 6, 2016 5:27:31 GMT -5

Post by я𝑜𝓈𝑒 on Feb 6, 2016 5:27:31 GMT -5

"perhaps this - what i can only recognize as desire - was sparked from the clashing of the void against the rest of my crumbling structures."

{ he says "oh baby you know
we're going to be legends
i'm the king and you're the queen
and we will stumble through heaven ;

Bones and lips aching from the night and all of its flames, I feel as if I am slipping into a dream, but then I remember that I am already submerged in one. I would sleep if it did not mean stopping, if it did not mean surrender. The fire slowly dies, but the desire does not. She's leaning against the counter, glorified and drenched in the shadows. We've got most of our clothes on now, but we're still only half-dressed. Though, I'd prefer no clothes on at all.

When Ithaca takes a sip from her bottle, my eyes draw up to the curves of her lips- and I feel the fire again, flaring up from deep within. It touches my eyes. And my bones. And my veins. And my flesh. And everything.

There is silence that seems to drag on forever- it breaks then, at the end of eternity. Her voice carries like a knife, but it cuts sweet. "Caly, where the fuck are my pants?"

A giggle, drawn out by the remnants of the alcohol still weighing down my system, pours into the air. It is an innocent sound, but its intentions are anything but. "I was too busy ripping them off to care about where they were going," I reply with a shrug, but the words are anything but careless. They have purpose and drive, they are caustic and full of desire.

{ if there's a light at the end
it's just the sun in your eyes
i know you want to go to heaven
but you're human tonight" ;

. . .

lyrics: "young god" by halsey.

[presto]

CALYPSO DELACROIX

[/presto]

"even stars burn out."

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do you feel like a young god? | calypso + ithaca [blitz]

Post by я𝑜𝓈𝑒 on Dec 30, 2015 1:19:05 GMT -5

Post by fox on Dec 30, 2015 2:52:47 GMT -5

Post by я𝑜𝓈𝑒 on Dec 30, 2015 3:50:39 GMT -5

Post by fox on Dec 30, 2015 21:34:10 GMT -5

Post by я𝑜𝓈𝑒 on Dec 30, 2015 22:58:30 GMT -5

Post by fox on Jan 17, 2016 1:00:33 GMT -5

Post by я𝑜𝓈𝑒 on Feb 6, 2016 5:27:31 GMT -5