bodyache. [ lora + ali train!blitz ]

arx
Retired Staff

2,429 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen May 12, 2024 22:02:56 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

bodyache. [ lora + ali train!blitz ] Oct 5, 2020 21:26:34 GMT -5

Post by arx on Oct 5, 2020 21:26:34 GMT -5

vallora seth.

After an hour of chasing a single, stolen breath of air through the train cars, I finally catch it at the bottom of bottle. "Wow." The bottle hums as I breathe against its lips, screams as my grip tightens around its neck. 'It's just an eye for an eye,' as my uncle would say. And then my sister and I would sew each other back together; she always pulled too tight. I'm going to miss that.

"Another?" I point the empty bottle at my district partner and answer my own question without hesitation—"Another."—hopping over the bar like I own the place.

Everything was normal if I didn't spend too much time thinking about it. I was nursing my hangover with a drink far too fucking expensive for a worthless urchin like me, ignoring aches, cuts, and bruises that made my freckles look like misty galaxies and connect-the-dot constellations across my skin, demanding the attention of everyone and anyone who was within earshot to keep my mind from convincing me I was invisible. Or dead. Which I mean- ha, see, now I most certainly am.

I'm laughing to trick the endorphins, smiling to trick the serotonin. Hard to tell, but I don't think those bitches are falling for it.

I'm nearly half way through my second bottle by the time I notice Mr. Volunteer hasn't even cracked the top off of his beer yet.

"Loosen up," I say, wiping foam off my upper lip as I lean over the bar and crack it open for him. "And good god, get out of that suit-" I reach and shake out his tie a little, pulling away just as quick to keep my wrist from getting snapped.

I finish off my bottle, reach for another.

"You look like a depressed two-by-four."

"and you feared a lonely death, like a lake leaves you alone in her depths."

♪

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

ᴥ
Head RP Tutor

4,552 POSTS

Pronouns: he/him
last seen May 12, 2024 18:33:47 GMT -5

oof

bodyache. [ lora + ali train!blitz ] Oct 6, 2020 1:33:51 GMT -5

Post by ᴥ on Oct 6, 2020 1:33:51 GMT -5

alistair gale.

I'm sitting beside a stormfront, staring out the window while my thoughts struggle through burnt-out fog. The clock strikes some time past dawn as the sun sets itself against my eyes, a brutal assault that has me grimacing against the pain. I prefer it, I guess, to having to look at her. The bitter fragrance of a lesser man's mistakes is familiar, though I know nothing of her taste. They act like her lips are the sweetest they've ever seen, only to curse her name the very next day. I've always been jealous of how she makes them smile.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. My grip tightens around my thigh, baggy fabric bunched between my fingers and all I can think of is how much I hate the color blue. Like a stuffy mid-afternoon, stifled by humidity and indignant heartbeats. God, I hate crowds even as I insisted on losing myself within them. Empty praise was good as gold, strong enough to excuse all my suffering.

At least, that's what I tell myself.

Impulsive euphoria has given way to the usual apathy. Did my parents come say goodbye to me? I can't really remember now. It's a blur of happy faces and loud congratulations, overwhelming in their unconcealed greed. I was a pretty thing you could steal a piece of and hang on your mantel, all to remind people I existed at all.

I always thought I'd enjoy that kind of fame. Seems I'm wrong about most things.

I sink into a seat too soft to be comfortable, pointedly looking away from my companion as she guzzles down another beer. "Loosen up." I wince at the accusation, almost pressing my lips to the neck of the bottle and pretending to drink on instinct.

Only to realize that's what I've been doing for the last ten minutes. It's going to be a lot harder to hide things from her, isn't it?

That is, unless I don't even bother trying.

I look at Vallora Seth, really look at her, for the first time since I volunteered. She's everything my parents would have killed me for being, the forgotten bits of ink that insists on bleeding through thin pages. Defined by imperfection and the sloppy words she throws my way. It's somewhat captivating to watch her dance her way out of painted lines.

I'm not one for genuine smiles, but my lips twitch just a bit in reluctant admiration. "Alright, alright!" I set the bottle down, still hesitant to know what part of me might be hiding halfway through the amber liquid, and start fumbling with my tie. When she reaches out to touch it, I think I hold my breath. I can't really remember.

Shrugging off my jacket I finally lose every excuse to keep lying, inspecting the glass bottle with no-so-feigned interest. "What's it like? I've never been drunk before."

"hanging in rooms full of silence, bleeding colors from pain and violence"

♪

Last Edit: Oct 6, 2020 1:49:21 GMT -5 by ᴥ

the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n

arx
Retired Staff

2,429 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen May 12, 2024 22:02:56 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

bodyache. [ lora + ali train!blitz ] Oct 13, 2020 2:58:36 GMT -5

Post by arx on Oct 13, 2020 2:58:36 GMT -5

vallora seth.

I'm rushing across the train car as he shrugs out of his jacket, beer foam sloshing, sticking, and drying within my fingers as I struggle against shaking knees and expensive rugs to drag a loveseat in front of the door we'd walked in through. 'To keep them all out,' I tell myself. 'To be alone.' But looking up at my reflection in a barred window pane reminds me only of a caged animal—trapped and angry, but too damn scared of the monster on the otherside of the bars to do anything but curl up in the corner with wide, fear-filled eyes and quick, shallow breaths.

I turn away with a nod, kicking off my shoes with a smile and flourish of my now empty bottle. "And now," I slide behind the bar again. "We don't have to worry sharing."

I don't care when I cut my finger twisting a bottle cap meant to be cracked off. I just curse under my breath, let blood and booze mix like a metallic, bitter cocktail between my teeth. If I'm being honest, it tastes like home. But in the lie I'm spinning it tastes like happiness.

"What's it like?"

I raise a brow and hum the question at him between sips.

"I've never been drunk before."

I choke on the bubbles, the burn rising in my throat as I struggle for a moment to swallow the amber liquid. I gasp as laughter escapes my lips, wiping away spilled disbelief with the back of my hand.

"Didn't take you for a comedian, damn," I shake my head at him, brush a hand through my hair to reset the pieces that had fallen in my face. I'm chuckling as I drag my gaze away from his lips and back to the bottle's. "Got me good."

Except- "Wait."

I've met his type before. Straight-laced, silver-tongued and, well- two-by-four blocks of wood painted pretty, dusted in glitter and gold, and so fucking concerned with a crown they've lost all semblance of a personality—like, beyond being entirely, enticingly tantalizing as a one night stand.

Which, if I'm being honest-

"Stop," I say, setting my bottle down with a smirk on my lips. "Do not fuck with me."

But even if it isn't obvious to be that he isn't, I find myself falling for it.

I snatch the bottle out of his hands. "You can't! Start with that!" I blame the heat rising in my cheeks for how close I am when I lean in, how easy it is for the corners of my lips to bend into a smile.

I pull his beer to my lips and turn away to grab at something that looked far stronger and far cheaper than what I'd originally offered. "Here," I don't know where or when I found and filled the crystal shot glasses, but- "Excited to be your first."

I smile and offer the clink of a glass.

"and you feared a lonely death, like a lake leaves you alone in her depths."

♪

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

ᴥ
Head RP Tutor

4,552 POSTS

Pronouns: he/him
last seen May 12, 2024 18:33:47 GMT -5

oof

bodyache. [ lora + ali train!blitz ] Oct 17, 2020 8:46:39 GMT -5

Post by ᴥ on Oct 17, 2020 8:46:39 GMT -5

alistair gale.

I never knew what swallowed smiles tasted like until this moment. It's a near impossible task, really, as I watch her tangle herself up in golden threads darting across the carriage like this. What's it like to be in that skull of hers? Though she carries herself with no grace it's like it's embedded in her every movement, leaking out in between vulgarities. We're night and day, different as they come. But I guess it helps to remember that even the moon basks in the sun's glow.

So I let myself bask, for just a moment.

I've always felt observed, eyes catching on my every imperfection because that's all that's worth seeing in a boy as utterly unremarkable as me. But here? Alone together? I finally know what it is to have nothing left to lose.

She leans in, golden string pulled taught as it strains to separate us and I lose it. I fucking smile. It hurts a bit, it's wide and too sloppy to be attractive but I revel in the pain. I can't blame my drink now burning in her belly for the way I lose myself in the amusement that lights up her eyes but I do it anyway. Alistair Gale, a liar to the last. I can be proud of my consistency. "You never actually answered my question."

She turns away and I suddenly remember that I'm meant to be breathing.

My fingers brush hers as I accept the glass, swirling it around as an excuse to keep from looking at her. My mouths gone a bit dry from anticipation or anxiety and that's probably why my ears start burning right after she speaks too.

Excited to be your first.

If I were back home, I'd probably have some witty reply to fire back at her. I'd adopt the same old cocky grin and lean into her as I knock back my drink without so much as flinching. If I was playing pretend with her I'm sure I'd look cool as hell right now.

Instead I laugh nervously and worry my lip between my teeth. A nervous habit I hate to let slip. "Be gentle with me, then." It's a question as much as an answer.

But I decide to trust her, I throw back my drink.

And start choking the minute it hits my throat.

"No. No! No?" It's bitter in all the wrong ways, my face pinching as I near cringe out of my skin. I can hardly see Vallora's reaction through the tears swimming in my vision, "That's terrible! That's so bad! Why would anyone subject themselves to this!"

I'm so outraged I don't notice how hard I'm laughing.

"hanging in rooms full of silence, bleeding colors from pain and violence"

♪

the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n