Burning Up Fo(u)r You {Kendall/Ghosty/Frankel}

Death
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509 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
last seen Feb 13, 2023 21:20:51 GMT -5

Just because you're trash doesn't mean you can't do great things. It's a garbage can, not a cannot.

Burning Up Fo(u)r You {Kendall/Ghosty/Frankel} Jul 9, 2015 14:57:29 GMT -5

Post by Death on Jul 9, 2015 14:57:29 GMT -5

[presto]

Crickets chirp and fire swirls before me in its dance of hunger and lust and consumption. Fires are romantic because people see romance as something that consumes you. One piece of wood is indistinguishable from another once they're both gray ashes piled among a group of chipped sandstone. Two people become one.

It's disgusting.

The square glass bottle in my hands is warm towards the fire and cold towards the back and sides, blown on by cool night air. The logs crack as water within their very cells evaporates and the carbon elements are reduced to soot and cinders that stain hands and clothes and ground.

My mind wanders as I wait for others to join. Most of us know about the bonfire out here. Four large bottles of various spirits, three logs, two stumps, one fire and zero supervision.

It's hell of a lot better than any of those fancy cocktail parties 'Zelle sometimes goes to with Logan. I mean, I've never been to one, but I kinda assume you have to be on your best behavior and put up with other people's shit, which I have no patience for.

Shifting against the hard wood log that's no doubt older than I am, I tug down on my sweatshirt to straighten it out. The rhinestones on my jeans jab into my ass and it kinda hurts but I'm used to things being a pain in the butt.

I wet my lips with my tongue and glance around. It wouldn't be the first time I'd sat out here with my fire and my booze and gotten drunk alone. I just wish I had a cigarette for company-- or maybe one of those vape pens that're all the rage.

Jack goes down warm, like drinking vanilla straight from the bottle you've just taken outta your cupboard. It glides against my tongue as the glass presses to my lips and I tip it up.

The night is young. Don't wanna get carried away now.

The landscape is practically barren. No creeks or lakes or any of that shit for miles. Lots of cracked dirt and dry, grisly bushes. Big red rocks and lots of stars.

Oh my ripred, the stars.

They twinkle back at me, dancing and laughing as they feast on the plethora of gases that burn within each other's bellies. They don't see to care that the gas will run out someday. That someday, they die. Maybe that's because they turn into fucking black holes that eat light. If people turned into black holes when they died, then maybe we wouldn't be so scared of it.

Momma used to say that the stars were souls and that once a star fell, a baby was born. Pa believed the opposite. He said that once a person died, they ascended to heaven to be an angel and that the stars were their souls. I think it's both. An endless cycle of death and rebirth. Rising from the ashes.

I look back at the fire and wonder if I even want to be alone tonight.

Maybe I would rather nobody shows up.

When the dirt behind me crunches and I jolt to look behind me, I know I'd rather have some company than drain this bottle alone.

[/presto]

Last Edit: Jul 9, 2015 14:57:55 GMT -5 by Death

d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel
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call me jaded

Burning Up Fo(u)r You {Kendall/Ghosty/Frankel} Jul 10, 2015 6:00:26 GMT -5

Post by d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel on Jul 10, 2015 6:00:26 GMT -5

MorganHalfinger

Sharing the warmth of the beast, I was too attached to leave her. Placing my head on her neck, my arms would rest on her writhers. Watching as the oxygen entered her nostrils, I’d be amazed. Such a beast like a horse, allowing me to hug it, even some humans hate hugs. That’s why my only friend is this horse. She doesn’t bitch; she doesn’t have an annoying voice to nag at me and most of the time she doesn’t want to hurt me.

Running my hand along her mane, I’d move over to her ears, whispering into the great big plate dish audits. ”I’m off to a party tonight!” Twitching her ears, the mare would begin to listen. ”I haven’t been to a party for ages, what am I going to do?” For sure, I know the mare is unlikely to answer that question for me but I can tell she is listening. Although she may not understand a word I am saying, it may translate to Carrots,Carrots, Oats, Hay, Roll for her but either way, at least she is more comforting than most humans.

Slowly closing the chipped oak door shut, I’d fling over the kick bolt, a metal clang erupting as I do. Hanging myself over the door, I’d say goodbye to my mare.
”Goodnight Jade.”
Strolling across the yard, I’d head into the house, ready to prepare myself for this little gathering.

Trying to remember the last time I had been out for a social gathering like this, I can’t, I’ve really become a hermit lately. Since mum got ill, I’ve never found the time to actually get off the ranch. When the invitation a rose, I quickly took it, I have the morning off encase I wake with a sore head.

Removing bits of straw from my hair, I’d try to make my appearance look respectful. Scrubbing the dirt from my nails, I’d eradicate any sign of work; I can’t pull anyone with dirty hands. Swinging open the wardrobe door, I’d be met by : Chequered shirts, jeans, chequered shirts, jeans, chequered shirts…a short red dress. Pulling it out, I’d stand by the mirror with it up against me… perfect! Stripping down my dirty work clothes, I haven’t enough time for a shower; I’ll have to spray myself with some desirable scent.

Pulling on the dress, I’d stay in the mirror, quickly running a brush through my hair. Slipping on some black flat shoes and wrapping a black jacket around my arm, I’d head over to my mother’s room. A collection of glass vials are placed across the windowsill, which scent shall I go for today? Picking a random one, I’d test it on my wrist, lemons. A strong scent of lemons will eradicate the smell of horse shit lingering around me. Drowning myself with the bottle, I’d slip it into my jacket pocket before heading out.

My brother was meant to be coming too but as usual, he couldn’t be bothered. I was to go alone tonight. I am not sure if I actually know anyone going but it will be good to see new faces for a change.

Trekking through the wilderness, the Moon’s light would guide me to my destination. The stars were having their own party tonight, as they too shone down their own light. What a fascinating thing the sky is. Many are afraid of the dark, yet the sky is at its best during the night. You can actually observe it without burning your eyes.

A quick splash of heat attacks me, as my eyes spot the yellow and orange flames dancing around in a clearing ahead. A thick intoxicating smell of musky smoke and pieces of lumber enters my lunges. Approaching the bonfire, I’d try to identify someone, there is barely anyone here…

”Uh…hello?”

628 Words

Last Edit: Jul 10, 2015 6:24:55 GMT -5 by d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel

ghosty
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Burning Up Fo(u)r You {Kendall/Ghosty/Frankel} Jul 10, 2015 14:26:33 GMT -5

Post by ghosty on Jul 10, 2015 14:26:33 GMT -5

dee aithne

district ten

You always knew that it was only a matter of time for Father to forget to lock the door into your room, your prison. Your room inside which your fears come to life could be merely something of the past, that the stars that you see are no longer carved into your arm, but twinkling lightly in the darkness above you. That's not the only difference, beauty of the sky is a multitude of your arm, and it's not a surprise. That the drooling pooling bloody mismatch of lines barely resemble a star. The lines that were meant to protect you, but you can see how much fucking help that gave you.

They did bugger all, that's what it did. They gave you nothing other than blinding pain of a blade ripping through flesh, in a pattern engraved in more than just the flesh the blade pierces.

No more can the walls of your prison seal you in, with their leering mouths, their peering eyes, their jeering minds. Instead, they hide in your shadow, an almost silent whisper inside the darkness of yourself. You'll savour the light of everything, and the orange flicker of flame is what draws you now, much like a moth towards the apex of light. Like an unbreakable rope that just pulls, pulls, pulls, until it can not pull anymore. And you don't try to force against it, just merely dragged alongside the tide.

The flickering leads into other senses, the smell of age and wood, the popping of burning wood, the heat filtering through the sky, leaving colour filtering through your skin. No more is there tears and screams hidden just behind a barely standing facade, but a smile, and a beating heart of excitement. And finally, you see the licking of flame in the distance, the stalking of the sights and smells and sounds successful. You break into a sprint, curiosity overflowing in massive bulk over the cowardice that you are used to. And then the forest opens. You smile and speak. "I hope y'all don' mind me bein' here?"

made by anzie

kendall
District Mayor

[M:-600]

866 POSTS
last seen Feb 17, 2016 16:40:07 GMT -5

“I've lived too long with pain. I won't know who I am without it”

Burning Up Fo(u)r You {Kendall/Ghosty/Frankel} Jul 13, 2015 22:02:18 GMT -5

Post by kendall on Jul 13, 2015 22:02:18 GMT -5

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here wasn't I time where I felt like I fit in. I always felt different when I was around people, it might be because I was paranoid or the simple fact that I was. Because of this feeling, I would find myself drifting from group to group trying to find people that didn't make me feel like I was so alone. Just like every night I heard from a certain that there was a bonfire tonight held by some girl named Nightmare. It was supposedly 'fun' according to various sources. And if you were smart enough the word 'fun' usually included alcohol or some sort of drug to make everyone forget about the world we live in. That sounded like the fun I liked to have. [break][break]

I was already buzzed. I had already ate a little something and washed it down with a glass or brandy. Before that I drank the first glass of it. It seemed to be a routine now before I went out to try to sell myself just to buy more alcohol and do it all over again. I was dressed in red. A tiny red dress to hit my delicate lacy underwear. My lipstick was the same shade as the dress and gave me this certain look many would call sexy. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that I wasn't sexy. I was told every day, actually it was my job to make people believe I was sexy. So far, I was doing a swell job of it. Usually I had enough to buy another bottle of gin before I had to start it all over again. However, tonight was different unlike most nights. Tonight I wasn't to escape. I wasn't to hang out and laugh and talk and stop making other people happy. I wanted to make myself happy. Weather that was sex, alcohol or just friendship I wasn't sure but I was damn sure that I would be happy tonight. [break][break]

Giggling to myself I grab my purse and coat and run out the door. A few seconds later I grab the bottle of brandy on the table before leaving my grandmothers house for the night. I didn't live in my grandmothers house, it was my heirloom. Was a sick thing to inherit. She died and I got her house. I loved my grandmother but I was somewhat grateful for her gift. Her misfortune was my fortune. [break][break]

I started to walk the streets as I usually do but I made a shortcut and ran thought some fields to a tree like area. It was so calm and peaceful here instead of the town so to say. Barns were full of horses and cattle. Everyone seems to love horses here but I had never even ridden one in my life. I had always stayed in the town and never really ventured out past what I knew, especially once I was taken away from my mother. I kept sipping my Brady until I stumbled upon noise that wasn't my own. [break][break]

The heat of the flame started to creep up my skin into my body. Faint voices and crackling was fire over the crickets of the bugs in the trees. With a few more steps I see a group of three girls all around a campfire talking. Smiling I sit next to the blonde bombshell and hold up my bottle of brandy. "I brought brandy but I drank half of it already." I say setting it down in front of me. "I am sure there is more where it came from though am I right," my expression is hazy and everything is starting to get louder. Tonight I wanted to redefine myself as a person, and what a great group of people to do it with. Smiling as the fire casts shadows on the grass in front of us I remember dancing with dad as a little girl. It was all so simple then, all I had to do was place one foot in front of the other to stay on the right path. Now I was completely lost and I don't think dancing will get me back to where I need to be. [break][break]

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ghosty, death, frankel | 698 words | finally done

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Last Edit: Jul 13, 2015 22:02:56 GMT -5 by kendall

"heaven is a place on earth with you"

Death
Career Tribute

509 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
last seen Feb 13, 2023 21:20:51 GMT -5

Just because you're trash doesn't mean you can't do great things. It's a garbage can, not a cannot.

Burning Up Fo(u)r You {Kendall/Ghosty/Frankel} Jul 21, 2015 16:45:39 GMT -5

Post by Death on Jul 21, 2015 16:45:39 GMT -5

[presto]

Liquid amber sloshes against the sides of the glass like miniature rolling waves popping and slopping against rocks as I set the bottle down to look at the newcomers.

The blonde one steps carefully, uncertain. Probably set off-kilter by me being the only person at what should have been a roaring party. Rocks crunch beneath her boots and the wind tugs at her long hair.

"Uh... hello?"

Her dress is the color of embers burned down, peeking out from ashes like her toned, long legs peek out from under the dress. My eyes follow the lines of her calves, up to her thighs where, to my utter disappointment, the dress begins and I can see no further. I wonder what color her panties are. ~~Or if she's wearing any.~~

I can taste the citrus drifting off of her. She must've bathed in lemonade. She'd probably taste amazing if I got the chance to try her. Like a lemon pop. Or a sorbet.

"I hope y'all don't mind me being here," says the tiny one. So small, I want to pick her up and snuggle her all the way back to her home where she should stay because she can't be older than fourteen.

(fourteen. when I was losing weight and getting into liquor and hoping huron would get into me and the world was tight and small and I was fat and large but not in charge.)

"Heya! Not at all! Come on and take a seat," I tell them. "The more the merrier, I always say. Anyone need a drink?"

I turn around to the three other bottles. Mine is whiskey. Coconut rum (fun to drink by its lonesome with its sweetness and gentle perversity), vodka (great for getting drunk real fast in shots or mixed with lemonade) and tequila (best cold with a twist of lime, but can be drunk a little easier than vodka) lounge on the log I lay against.

Whiskey, vodka and tequila. The unholy trinity of hard liquor. Rum was just for kicks and in case kids like the little one came along.

Another one stumbles up to the party, swaying with the nightly breeze that cools this rugged hunk of rock. I'm downwind of her and I can already smell the alcohol clinging to her curves like darkness clings to the wrong side of a crescent moon. It gets stronger when she plunks her fine ass down next to me. Instead of putting on perfume, she decided to douse herself in brandy.

She has hair that can't make up its mine if it'll be gentlemen-prefer blonde or buxom-babe brunette and eyes hazy with the bonfire smoke and drink. The gentle curve of her neck is enticing. She'd taste like brandy as I'd plant soft kisses (and the occasional slow bite) against it, working my way to her collarbones and beyond...

I shake the thought, my heart pounding in all the wrong ~~yet so right~~ places. Fuck this whiskey bottle gripped in my hands. I want to get drunk off of her.

"I brought brandy but I drank half of it already," she says, dropping the bottle in front of me. "I am sure there is more where it came from though, am I right?"

"Damn straight," (unlike me) I said with a grin, glancing over her again and then back at the others. "We'll have to finish the job, then. I'm Nightmare, by the way, ladies. It's a swell night to make your acquaintance."

[/presto]

Last Edit: Jul 22, 2015 11:37:19 GMT -5 by Death

d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel
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call me jaded

Burning Up Fo(u)r You {Kendall/Ghosty/Frankel} Jul 22, 2015 14:11:34 GMT -5

Post by d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel on Jul 22, 2015 14:11:34 GMT -5

MorganHalfinger

Sitting down on the broken soil, I’d sit opposite the lonesome girl. Eying her appearance, she looks around my age. I really do hope some male attraction joins us, otherwise it will feel like a girly sleepover. Glancing up, another quickly followed behind me, a younger girl. A much younger girl, probably about fourteen years old? How did she get the invitation to come here? This isn’t a kiddy tea-party.

Crossing my legs, I’d glance around for any signs of liquor. I haven’t let myself loosen up in a while and I am sure any drop of alcohol will likely go straight to my head but I am in need of it. Even if I don’t know these people, I am sure to befriend them in my drunken state, rather than sober; although I’d rather be a nanny to the younger one than a friend.

"The more the merrier, I always say. Anyone need a drink?"

Finally the question I have been waiting for has been asked, I do simply NEED a drink. Scanning around, two bottles lay besides the older girl. An amber liquid and a clear one, I do hope the clear one is vodka and not water. Do I need something strong or something with style?

Stretching my hand out to the clear bottle of vodka, I’d pull it close to myself, claiming it as my own tonight. I need something strong. Cracking open the bottle, I’d glance over, another girl has entered this downfall of a little gathering. Stumbling in, she already looks half-drunk as it Is; although she has brought us more alcohol, the more the better.

Begging that more come, I won’t be able to just drink this strong spirit all night, where is the bitter sweet apple cider? Probably the greatest drink in all of Panem. Even though it doesn’t do justice to your stomach, it is most likely the tastiest liquid in this land.

Taking a long swig of the alcohol, I’d quickly cough after the burning liquid ran down my throat. Wow, I need to get back into the habit of having a few drinks hear and then. I wonder how long I will list tonight before passing out, maybe an hour…or two?

Pouring another mouthful down my throat, I’d wipe away the remnants of it from my face. Turning to the younger girl, I’d question her presence? ”Lit…little…babbi…baby….why are you here?” Unable to control my words, I wonder if the liquor has already kicked in. Is it even possible for it to work that fast?

Pressing my lips around the bottle, I’d pour more of the deadly water down my throat. Running to my stomach, I could feel the flaming trails it left behind. Spinning, my head felt heavy. The flames in front of my multiplied quickly, as if they were swarming around me. Jumping back, I’d look around quite startled, the fire back in its normal state. Shaking my head, I’d sit back down on the ground, still clasping the bottle in my hand.

"We'll have to finish the job, then. I'm Nightmare, by the way, ladies. It's a swell night to make your acquaintance."

Finally, introductions were in order. Standing up from the ground, I’d wave the bottle in the air, shouting at the top of my lunges. Thannkyou, thankyou, Brightmare for inviting us today! Sitting back down on the ground, I’d place the bottle besides me. Continuing to spin, my head would not be present anymore, I couldn’t control a thing. ”My name is….Mo…Morg…”

The spinning stopped and so did everything else.

[Ok so Morgan has passed out now. Seeing as I am going away, I didn't want to hold you guys up. If this is still going on in two weeks time, I will wake her up. In the meantime, just draw mustaches on her face or something!]

ghosty
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Burning Up Fo(u)r You {Kendall/Ghosty/Frankel} Sept 2, 2015 10:51:02 GMT -5

Post by ghosty on Sept 2, 2015 10:51:02 GMT -5

dee aithne

district ten

You know that you shouldn't be here. There aren't enough years behind you for the understanding of their condition is known. But you feel like the spitting of the fire in front of you is keeping you here. The fascination of the orange flames is primal, nothing more modern than that. It's the recognition of something that you should fear, but do not. Only want.

Bottles of liquid hell lie around you, the brown liquids sloshing inside of them. But they call for you, and inside your mind, the shadows nod to your agreement. Fuck Ripred, they call. What He doesn't know can't hurt him. And amber liquid within has the licking of flames held within, but you feel that you are the fire. Not a reflection in liquid in a bottle.

But that liquid is the fire. You knew that the moment that it passed your lips, molten brown lava it was. A poker, pulled from the embers of the fire is an equal temperature to what it felt like down your throat.

And there was the difference. It didn't hurt you. It made you feel loved for the first time in many years. Not something that needs abolition. You don't ever want to leave. "Can I jus' never leave? Jus' stay here with the molten lava? I'm Dee by the way. I'ma sure we gonna get along like a house on fire."

made by anzie