Everywhere, Like Oxygen :: [Nino + Calypso]

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Everywhere, Like Oxygen :: [Nino + Calypso] Oct 25, 2014 21:39:05 GMT -5

Post by L△LIA on Oct 25, 2014 21:39:05 GMT -5

a girl like you
you’re a con-artist
a criminal
who shook up my heart

It's the kind of late that's not exactly night anymore, but also isn't quite morning yet. The entire District is in bed and yet I'm just getting off from a long night of work at the club, stumbling drunkenly down the middle of a suburban street with an iron grip on a bottle of vodka I stole on my way out the door. I left a sweat-and-vomit-soaked (the kindness of boozehounds) pile of my tip money in its place ~~I don't steal from the living, okay~~, but Uma will probably scold me when I show up for my next shift anyway or at least smash a few extra glasses for me to clean up in unspoken punishment.

"Tuh wurgle isso shpin-shpinny. Ahngunnah fwall. Wuhyeh izzevysing ouddahgeht megh?!"

Translation: "The world is so spin-spinny. I'm gonna fall. Why is everything out to get me?!"

Deep in conversation with the dark, my footsteps wind from side-to-side so much that the walk to Calypso's house is literally twice as far as normal for me. On the bright side, my coordination is limited to the point that I'm incapable of walking and drinking at the same time, so I've sobered up ever so slightly by the time I finally reach my destination, which is incredibly fortunate considering that I've only completed the first part of the journey. The easy part, if you will.

The house is totally dark, curtains drawn low as if it has closed its eyes to sleep along with its residents. There's a one-sided staring contest as I glare at the second floor with determination, side-eying a tree with low hanging branches that just so happens to reach up to the window of the very room where I want to be. Whether this tree is a happenstance of convenience or inconvenience... well, that's highly debatable and presents a conundrum which requires more thought and logic than I'm currently capable of. However, as the saying goes, hindsight is twenty-twenty, so I'm sure a verdict will be reached sooner or later.

Seeing as how I am not a monkey, the climb is something less than smooth, but after some shimmying and a few graceless falls (for the record: vodka makes for quite the painless landing) and the acquisition of a fairly impressive rip in my shirt, I discover victory in the form of Caly's unlocked bedroom window. Jimmying it open is easy despite my inebriation, thanks to all those years of experience cracking open coffins — potato, potahto, I guess. She... has slept through the entirety of my harrowing journey to reach her and all I can do is stare at her in silent offense for a minute, jaw dropped with a few twigs and leaves jutting out of my hair to add an air of emphasis to my rather picturesque indignation.

I'm a hot mess, to be honest, but I've got bigger problems than that right now. Stumbling over to take a seat on the floor by her bed, I paw messily at her face like a half-blind kitten begging for attention. (Hello. Why are you not aware that it's time to love me? Wake up. Waaaaaake uuuuuuuuup. Now. Now now now. Me me me. Right now.) "Caly —" It's one of those whispers that is actually just a yell in sort-of-disguise, annoyingly breathy, but loud as hell. "Caly!" My face is warped with pathetic desperation, one cheek pressed against the sheets beside her as my stinking vodka-breath reaches out in harassment. "Wake up, okay and please? That thing in my chest-place hurts. Help! I think somebody punched me while I looking wasn't." A single hiccup echoes through the persistent silence of the room, followed by a ridiculous snicker. "Wait. Flippity-switch those last two words, backs-to-forths or y'know? Of course you do." Cue another burst of bumbling laughter.

Even in my current state, I'm still semi-aware that I shouldn't be here, but I'm sad and that's a life priority for me at the moment, so I don't want to be alone. People should care about that. Except, Jude might just go over the edge if I wail at him about my break up with Ursula one more time and everyone at work is so sick of dealing with every other drunkenly heartbroken loser in the District, that by the time they all clocked out tonight, no one had any patience left for me. Caly, however, is conveniently here for me, whether she likes it or not. Granted, it's the same kind of debatable convenience as my climbing her tree, but that's beside the point. I'm here and she's here and I am fairly certain that one plus one is probably still two, but it's a little too late to tell. My world is spinning after all and it's hard to see when it's this dark.

Last Edit: Oct 25, 2014 21:51:56 GMT -5 by L△LIA

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Everywhere, Like Oxygen :: [Nino + Calypso] Oct 25, 2014 22:30:31 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on Oct 25, 2014 22:30:31 GMT -5

. CALYPSO LETO .
because a wound to the heart
is also a wound to the mind

"Caly!"

What the fu-

I'm sleeping. Oh. That makes sense. Better not open my eyes.

"Caly!"

(It's cold. My feet are cold. Why is it cold in here?)

Someone's touching my face. Is it me? No, I don't know. My arms are... I don't know. Tired. Sleep. Maybe it's the dog. (Do we have a dog?) This is one of those times where I'm just waking up and I'm sort of caught between my dreams and reality and I"m sort of floating through a weird fuzz and my thoughts are just up and down and up and down and in and out and there we go, back to sleep, back to-

"Help! I think somebody punched me while I looking wasn't."

I'll punch you in a minute.

My head rings from the lack of sleep it's consumed. I'm one of those people who needs 8 hours of sleep at the bare minimum and God have mercy on those who try to disturb me if I don't. (God have mercy on anyone whom I don't particularly like anyway, regardless of if they're waking me up in the dead of the night.) There's about as many people as fingers on my hands that I won't roundhouse kick to the face if I open my eyes and find them standing there.

"Mhmffffmrgree" is all I manage to force out of my mouth. It's like the hours are dragging my words back down my throat and forcing my head deeper into the pillows. But there's a sad stranger who's now laughing in my room and it's god-knows what time in the morning and hands clawing at my bed-head, so sleep will have to wait until I toss them right back out the window where they came from.

"Tags if this is another joke I swear-"

Nino Ripley sits on my floor in hysterics, always the tone of surprise.

"Ripples!" I groan, sitting up in a haze. A flourry of questions fall through my head and out of my mouth and I'm too tired (and cranky) to string them into coherent sentences. "How did you... di you climb... you smell... are you drunk?"

And finally, "What the fuck is the time?"

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

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Everywhere, Like Oxygen :: [Nino + Calypso] Oct 26, 2014 0:33:12 GMT -5

Post by L△LIA on Oct 26, 2014 0:33:12 GMT -5

i have gone crazy
i can’t snap out of it
i’m getting dizzy
she killed my ego

Caly fumbles around sleepily, wrecked with clumsiness. Frankly, I am embarrassed for her. Doesn't she know that girls are supposed to wake up prettily? Like something cheesy about flowers opening up to the sun or compare thee to a winter's moonbeam or —

But isn't the moon a man? That's not —

"Tags if this is another joke I swear —"

Tags?!

"Heeeeeeey, I'm not a girl! You're the girl, you moonman... wait, that's not —"

"Ripples!"

I can't remember whether or not I ever told her about how my mom used to call all of us Ripley boys her little Ripples, but either way, the nickname still makes my heart flinch. Reaching out with a single finger, I tap at her mouth, although it's unclear even to me if I'm trying to shush her or if there's just something fascinating about that particular sound leaving her lips. A little of both, probably. She finally sits up and it's akin to swatting my hand away. Reflexively, I'm already ducking out of her grasp, just in case she decides to smack me upside the head in retribution for what I'm still one hundred and twelve percent certain is not actually a wrongdoing on my part. "How did you... di you climb... you smell... are you drunk?" People have sounded happier to see me before. "What the fuck is the time?"

"It's the time to be happy! Hello, friend, Nino is here. You can love me now. It's okay. I will let you." My angelic grin is everything her waking up was not: springtime and a dead guy's poetry, for sure. "Not drunk, noooooo. Nuh-uh. Nope. Hurmpfh —" My slurring speech devolves into a mess of nonsensical verbal contradiction and I have to pause and look her in her sleep-crusted eyes, before sheepishly backtracking. "— maybe a little ripsey. A ripsey Ripple." Quickly stuffing a fist in my mouth, I try to hide my inevitable giggles, because she doesn't look even half as amused as I am. Small spurts of sound escape past my knuckles, sounding like teeny, tiny farts and I am literally dying at the immature hilarity of it, despite doggedly attempting to shove my hand even further into my blubbering mouth.

I am five-years-old again and cannot be stopped.

"Ripsey Ripple!" I wail out, nearly choking on my hand as tears prick at my eyes. The transition of emotion that follows is epic enough that, if anyone doubted the poetry of my existence before, surely, no one could now. Tears of hilarity and sputtering laughter blur, swirl, and finally dissolve into tears and sputtering of an entirely different kind, until I'm sitting there on her floor, red faced and blubbering, with bits of tree messing up the usual compulsive perfection of my hair and my clothes torn up and my heart —

My hand falls out of my mouth and I'm clutching the bottle of vodka to my chest, wheezing silently and staring at the floor. Suddenly I'm the embarrassed one, but even though I can't look at Caly right now, I can't move away. I need to be here the same way I need her to wake up and... something. I don't know. I don't know. "I don't know what I did. She doesn't love me. My whole life and she doesn't love me." My words are a messy mumble as I take a swig of liquor and blindly reach upwards, fingers tugging at the sheets on the edge of the bed, as if that might be enough to pull Caly closer. "Am I not lovable?" My voice cracks. When I finally raise my head up, I am all watery, bloodshot puppydog eyes and quivering lips. "Look!" Plucking at the hole in my shirt with dawning realization, my level of panic is borderline comical. "Your tree doesn't love me either! It hurts! It hurts!"

If I am wrecked and unlovable, however, it's not because of the tree.

Last Edit: Oct 26, 2014 0:36:30 GMT -5 by L△LIA

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Everywhere, Like Oxygen :: [Nino + Calypso] Nov 2, 2014 4:22:02 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on Nov 2, 2014 4:22:02 GMT -5

. CALYPSO LETO .
because a wound to the heart
is also a wound to the mind

It's the middle of the night and Nino Ripley is a hot mess floundering around on my bedroom door.

"It's the time to be happy! Hello, friend, Nino is here. You can love me now. It's okay. I will let you."

(Oh. My. God.)

I know I should have expected this sooner or later. The kid is a ball of spontaneity and quirks, I'm a collection of side-eyes and sharp words, and apparently neither of us can hold a drink down to save ourselves. If I wasn't half-asleep I would probably slap away the finger at my mouth but instead all I can muster is a displeased grimace, deciding quietly that if he tries it again I might just bite it off altogether. The tree outside my window seems to have done enough damage already.

"I don't know what I did. She doesn't love me. My whole life and she doesn't love me."

There's a tiny pang of an ache at those words. I know he doesn't know it - half of the reason because he seems to be suffering from a delusional attack of alcohol - but it still hurts. (Every day. Every day it hurts. But I'm getting better.) There's nothing easy about being at the other end of the knife pointing at his heart but I'm not the one poised at the ready to hurt him. There was a time when Nino Ripley held my head up as I drowned away my sorrows and shook against porcelain as my love's leg snapped in half and I watched him slowly die. Libertine might not be dying but broken hearts are lethal and I'm not having anyone dig up this Ripley's grave but me. Not over my dead body.

"Am I not lovable?"

He pulls at my sheets and I crawl closer, bed-hair and pyjamas and all. I want to laugh at my situation right now: there's a drunken criminal who's also my friend sitting in my bedroom in the middle of the night telling me about his troubled heart. My God, if only a past version of myself could see me now.

"Still hung up over that Ursula chick, huh?"

I rest my cheek against my huddled knees and smile. He'll be getting shit about this for the rest of the week but he's too drunk to tease and the last thing I need is waterworks flooding my room. Fingers play at the corners of my duvet as I listen to his rambling and I reach out to grasp his raised arm and pull him to the surface of my attention. He won't sink and drown for some silly girl tonight. I won't let him.

"Don't be silly. How could anybody not like you? You're like a human version of a puppy, it's impossible."

Even drunk, he still reaches past my bitter exterior to bring out a Calypso who giggles at her intoxicated friends and makes fun of herself. I despise this girl but he's too irresistibly defensive for me not to prey upon for a night.

"You do know that there's nobody home but me tonight, right? You could've just knocked." He doesn't, of course, but making fun of my friends is my version of affection.

"Besides, you got me - the tattletale, siren, cold-hearted bitch, whatever they're calling me these days - to like you. And that's hard to do, Rip."

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

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Everywhere, Like Oxygen :: [Nino + Calypso] Nov 7, 2014 19:46:07 GMT -5

Post by L△LIA on Nov 7, 2014 19:46:07 GMT -5

you’re beautiful
more than the sunlight
I like you
more than the universe

There's a reason I'm here, why it has to be Caly and no one else and it's not because the rest of the world gave me the slip. I've lived enough to finally learn how there are things other people can understand and things that they can't. The way everyone reacted when Fitz and Noah were killed wasn't anything like understanding and all I had was Jude. For me, there was truly no one else who knew what the depth of that loss felt like, but this thing with Ursula... it's different and Jude doesn't really get it. To him, my sadness over her is the same as my sadness over her has always been, except that it's not. This time I actually had her. She was mine and I was hers and it was real. Before it was all just a one-sided crush born of my imagination, but this time I had it all.

I know I shouldn't compare Ursula and I to Caly and Eye, but there it is. The reason I'm here. I'm such a little shit.

Point and case: There is a part of me convinced that I have it worse. Caly can't have Eye back because Eye is gone and whether she's accepted that or not, that's the way things have to be. Me? Ursula isn't gone. She's right there and so I don't understand why I can't have her back, because she's right there and I'm right here and we don't have to be apart and so I don't understand, I don't understand, I don't fucking understand. I know I'm a terrible person for thinking that way, but Ripred help me, I can't make my mind stop whirling incessantly from the unfairness of it all.

"Still hung up over that Ursula chick, huh?" Anyone else and I might have bristled defensively. Instead my head drops forward in concession to Caly, because: obviously. A moment of silence follows, but it isn't a quiet one. This is the kind of silence in which an entire, unspoken conversation passes between us. I might (definitely) be drunk and she might be sleep-muddled, but there are levels here upon which she knows that I know that she knows every single reason as to why I'm here and why it had to be here and we both understand. These are things I don't have to say, don't want to say, and refuse to say... which is good, considering that it's probably all things she doesn't have to hear, doesn't want to hear, and would refuse to hear if ever I tried to give a voice to my awfulness.

Reaching out, she pulls me up from the wallowing ache of my sadness with a touch of my fidgeting hand. Impulsively, selfishly I grab hold of her consolation and don't let go, absently fumbling around with the reassurance of her fingers and feeling safer for it. "Don't be silly. How could anybody not like you? You're like a human version of a puppy, it's impossible." Even in my current state, it registers ever-so-slightly that I'm being placated with her giggles and kindness, but the messy quivering of my mouth twitches with the first evidence of a smile anyhow. Risking a glance at her, something about her expression is goofy enough with sincerity that I have to match it. So I bark like a dog — "Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!" — once to say thank you, twice because this is proof that she gets me in this weird way that probably no one should, and the third time because hahaha this is fun!

It's only after my ridiculous yapping that I realize LOUD, I AM SO LOUD RIGHT NOW and smack both hands over my mouth to forcibly shut myself up, glancing over at her bedroom door with paranoia and praying to Ripred that I didn't wake her parents up. Panic comes for me and my head swivels to her closet, trying to calculate how quickly I could scramble in there before dropping all the way to the ground to check under her bed instead, all my fingers and all my toes crossed that she doesn't store bins of stuff down there that will thwart my plan or at least serve as unpleasant booby traps. Also that she's as much of a clean-freak as she looks like she could be and that she's dusted recently. I've already shimmied one leg under by the time she gets around to telling me the most important thing I've heard all night. "You do know that there's nobody home but me tonight, right? You could've just knocked."

My face... well, let's just say that it has an expression. All the expressions, actually. Relief, happiness, rage, humiliation, amusement, offense, and the kind of defeat a guy only feels after he wins a battle against a tree that he also kind of lost — if he's being really super duper embarrassingly honest — only to find out that he actually didn't have to go to war to begin with. All of these feelings are released in one completely pathetic and borderline weird whine. It keens throughout the room for a solid ten or twenty seconds before I remember how to use words to convey the complexities of my innermost thoughts. "I didn't knowwwwwwww~" Oh wicked heartbreak, thee has struck me twice tonight! Grabbing dramatically at my chest as the imaginary words of that dead guy poet rattle around in my head once again, I mime being stabbed in the heart and fall to the ground, faking my death as dramatically as possible, complete with twitching and a final deathrattle gasp as my soul frees itself from my body.

Clearly I missed my calling as an actor.

"Besides, you got me - the tattletale, siren, cold-hearted bitch, whatever they're calling me these days - to like you. And that's hard to do, Rip."

It's the right thing for her to say, not because it's sappy, but because it's true. That's what I need. Ursula has a talent for making my life feel impossible — it's never been good for me and even though I know Caly would never say something like that if I were sober, it unbreaks my heart just enough that death scenes and dramatics aside, I find myself thinking that maybe I can survive this. Unfortunately for Caly, these are also the kinds of words that make me think it's a grrrrrrrrrrreat idea to pick myself up off the floor and fling myself at her for a great big bear hug of feelsy-feels. Since, obviously, this isn't annoying enough of me on it's own, I start yapping like a puppy again, barking and howling into the dark. And the wise words I choose to follow up with, to convey the complexities of my innermost thoughts once more? "Bitch is another word for dog, you know. You're a human puppy toooooo~"

With that, I pat her head. (What a good girl, says the bad boy.) I pat her head because it had to be her and thank the world for that.

Last Edit: Nov 7, 2014 20:13:50 GMT -5 by L△LIA

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Everywhere, Like Oxygen :: [Nino + Calypso] Jan 4, 2015 2:43:49 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jan 4, 2015 2:43:49 GMT -5

. CALYPSO LETO .
because a wound to the heart
is also a wound to the mind

This is why my father told me to stay away from criminals.

"Bitch is another word for dog, you know. You're a human puppy toooooo!"

I am a dog person, so I suppose he's right. But I think I'd be a pitbull, or a snappy type of dog that growls and barks at any threat it comes across. Not a puppy-dog-eyed Nino with a tendency to hug and a need for constant attention. I'm not, however, a hugging person. I can't remember the last time I was tackled by a drunken pawn shop worker in my own house (funny that), but he doesn't seem to want to let go. Nor does he want to communicate in English. There's a thudding atop of my head that follows, along with a table lamp-lit floury of emotions upon his face, settling for some sort of goofy, wide-eyed smile. I think he forgets I'm trained to kill but tonight I'll let him slide.

"Alright, boy, down!" I command, knowing that if I hadn't been asleep 5 minutes ago I would not be laughing as I am now. "So I'm a puppy, and you're a puppy. Girls love puppies. I'm sure you'll find them throwing themselves at your feet tomorrow morning."

God help him if he's still throwing himself at me by sunrise.

{b-b-b-b-blitz mode activate!}

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

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Everywhere, Like Oxygen :: [Nino + Calypso] Jan 4, 2015 3:04:12 GMT -5

Post by L△LIA on Jan 4, 2015 3:04:12 GMT -5

tonight we are young
so let's set the world on fire
we can burn brighter
than the sun
carry me home tonight

It's predictable and yet also the opposite of everything expected, but I'm obedient. "Alright, boy, down!" She commands and I follow orders with only a hint of pouting reluctance on my face, withdrawing from my reckless hugging back to my seat on the floor. Doesn't she know it's cold down here? I mean, the carpet is comfortable enough, I guess, but she could be a little more hospi—

Hospopit—

Hospipalipa—

Hossssss~pitable. Nailed it.

"So I'm a puppy, and you're a puppy." Fact. "Girls love puppies." Also fact. "I'm sure you'll find them throwing themselves at your feet tomorrow morning." Well then.

"That's not the most illogimical thing you've ever said. I mean, look at my face!" I'm pointing at my dimples for emphasis and grinning like a devil, successfully distracted for the moment. "This is a good face." I arch an eyebrow and give her my best I-Am-A-Sexgod expression before taking another swig of vodka and doing a double take at her. "Hey! You're a girl." My voice is suddenly a revelation, as if gender is an entirely new concept to me. "My feet are down here. Fall at them whenever you're ready. Down, girl!"

Last Edit: Jan 4, 2015 3:43:12 GMT -5 by L△LIA

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Everywhere, Like Oxygen :: [Nino + Calypso] Jan 4, 2015 3:40:52 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jan 4, 2015 3:40:52 GMT -5

. CALYPSO LETO .
because a wound to the heart
is also a wound to the mind

"That's not the most illogimical thing you've ever said. I mean, look at my face! This is a good face."

(Is he trying to be sexy? Good grief.)

"Is illogimical even a word, Nino?"

I don't think he hears me. Once again I find myself glancing to the ceiling and asking the powers above what I have done to deserve this. (If I think about it, a lot.)

"Hey - you're a girl!"

Well spotted, Nino.

I'm not a girl, I'm a thunderstorm trapped inside skin. (Well, I am a girl, but explaining that to Nino in his stuporous state would be far too difficult and my tolerance level doesn't quite reach ripping my hair out of my skull.) This kid is once again hilariously aggravating so I bite down my laughter - my friend is drunk and this is a serious matter so I need to be serious about this.

Dropping to the floor, his barking stops (thank god). I wish getting drunk was as much fun for me as it is for him.

"Down, girl!"

"If you think for one moment I'm going to lie on the floor - then you're right."

If you can't beat 'em, join em.

{b-b-b-b-blitz mode activate!}

Last Edit: Jan 4, 2015 3:42:06 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

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Everywhere, Like Oxygen :: [Nino + Calypso] Jan 4, 2015 4:02:50 GMT -5

Post by L△LIA on Jan 4, 2015 4:02:50 GMT -5

tonight we are young
so let's set the world on fire
we can burn brighter
than the sun
carry me home tonight

"Is illogimical even a word, Nino?"

My face screws itself up with contemplation at that one, desperately trying to remember as I cross my fingers that I'm the one who's right. I want to be right. I like being right. It's no fun being the buttsore losing loser who loses. An unintelligible sound of objection slips out of me, but I still don't have any verbal proof to back it up with, just incoherent insistence.

"If you think for one moment I'm going to lie on the floor - then you're right."

"Victoryyyyyyy~" I can't remember what I was trying to sort out a minute ago anyhow, so I will just take my winning where I can get it and I am pretty sure that's what's happening right now. Pretty. Darn. Sure. I mean, probably. "Bring a blanket with you, puppy is cold!" Being warm would definitely be a victory.

Impatiently, I grab hold of the blankets and start pulling, figuring that if I can manage to pull her down with them then? Two birds one stone. David and Goliath. My hands would be slingshots and that would be awesome. Superpowers! "Caly, I think I might actually be a superhero, but if you can just fall already I will know for sure. I am going to need your help coming up with a name though. This is really important. You can be a superhero too if you just let the blanket come with you — a superhero of warmth! Saving the world one Nino at a time! I'll be in charge of theme songs while you're coming up with names." I thrust the bottle of booze at her. "Take this! It's powerful! It will help!"

Then, I promptly begin humming the best theme song ever.

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Everywhere, Like Oxygen :: [Nino + Calypso] Jan 4, 2015 5:15:24 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on Jan 4, 2015 5:15:24 GMT -5

. CALYPSO LETO .
because a wound to the heart
is also a wound to the mind

I've been drunk exactly twice in my life: one time I'd never felt more alive, and in the other I wanted to die. Both times I felt reckless and irresponsible and guilty so I guess I'm a changing tide with alcohol as my current. Nino seems a lot happier than I was but his face bounces between delighted and devastated. His currents seem to come and go at a pace I can't keep up with.

"Victoryyyyyyy!" he announces with a fling of his arms, clutching at my sheets hanging lazily off the bed. The blankets catch me by surprise and I yelp, wobbling for a moment, before my heart catches up with my head and I lower myself to the ground, sans any injuries. "For now," I reply, snatching a pillow in my journey to the cold floor Nino seems to find oddly comfortable.

"Caly, I think I might actually be a superhero..."

I wish I had a camera to film this. In the morning he'll wish he never met me.

"...I'll be in charge of theme songs while you're coming up with names."

I lie flat and straighten up beside him to silence his drunken demands, surveying our new bed - and I'm not sold.

"How about... Captain Caly and Ninoman?" I've never been one for creativity so unless his intoxicated head can come up with anything better, he's stuck with my poor attempts at imagination and a hangover in the morning. I'm stuck with half a bottle of booze and a drunken best friend. (Definitely got it worse than he does.)

"Take this! It's powerful! It will help!"

I'm skeptical, but fuck it. Anything to get through this night will help, so I take a swig and scowl at the taste.

"Captain Caly does not approve, Ninoman."

Last Edit: Jan 4, 2015 5:16:40 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

L△LIA
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last seen Jun 24, 2019 15:25:10 GMT -5

BOOM SH△KALAKA

Everywhere, Like Oxygen :: [Nino + Calypso] Jan 4, 2015 12:02:56 GMT -5

Post by L△LIA on Jan 4, 2015 12:02:56 GMT -5

tonight we are young
so let's set the world on fire
we can burn brighter
than the sun
carry me home tonight

This is obviously the best idea I've ever had. If I had any lingering doubts, they're gone as the best idea Caly's ever had leaves her mouth: "How about... Captain Caly and Ninoman?"

Immediately, with infinite enthusiasm: "YES!" We're going to save all the puppies.

I keep humming, because I'm on a mission now. Although the details might be a little bit fuzzy, it's a very important mission and I will not be defeated. "Captain Calyyyyy~" Eyes screwed shut with the deepest level of thought and head bobbing to the beat, I'm not exactly what anyone would call vocally talented, but that's not about to stop me. This is my new jam. "— and Ninoman!" The part with my name is particularly dramatic as I revert to drunken shout-whispering and this isn't because I'm biased about me. Oh no, no, no. It's just the way it has to be. Dramatic! Mighty! Kick-friggin'-ass! "They are here! Here to save the day! Ev-er-y day! Saving puppies!" My incredibly amazing voice slips off key, but I recover with super speed. Don't worry. "Yeah!"

I'm gonna make Jude draw a cartoon about this when I get home. Next best idea ever.

Meanwhile, outside of the ~~Batcave~~ Ninocave I'm attempting build by wrapping myself up in as many tangled layers of sheets and blankets as possible while I sing, Captain Caly has accepted her own mission. I catch a glimpse of the bottle tipping back and her defiant muttering, but I am a little bit preoccupied at the moment. "Captain Caly does not approve, Ninoman." After all, the best theme song ever is really starting to come together, if I do say so myself. Catchy. As. Hell.

The truest of inspiration strikes and I cut myself off with a melodramatic gasp, because this is about to be a big deal. "Captain Caly," I am so serious right now and I just really need her to know that, "the theme song needs your help! Right after — Saving puppies! Yeah! Saving puppies! Yeah, yeah! Saving all of the puppies with badass slingshot hands! Yeah, yeah, yeah! — right after that part I need your help. It can only be you. Captain Caly," I even use the excellently extra awesome Ninoman voice while saying her name for emphasis, "The world needs your rapping superskills."

Okay. That's it. This is my best idea ever.

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