Hallowed be Thy Name {O'Hana Family}

    The blissful poison ignites my tonsils with a harsh, yet pleasant, bite. Closely I watch as Tempest’s expression scrunches in joyful distaste for the concoction, attempting my best to not stare upon the isolated Stranger. Despite being an inseparable Family that’s constantly there for one another, we each know far too well the burden of loneliness. Thank you deer loving Parents, and especially for exchanging the desire of alcohol to us.

The reassurance Tempest gave earlier suddenly sings through my senses, as I internally debate if her statement on remaining awake will prove itself. Often with liquor combing her system she can be as much as a night owl as myself, though tonight I plan on enforcing such either way. There’s no doubt my Siblings can compete with my limits. It’s whether I can withstand not overdoing it that creates my worry. And with that I inhale my second shot, disregarding the denial granted by my Siblings in not providing another subject to cheers for.

“A toast to simply getting drunk then.” I sarcastically reply to their lack of vocalizing participation in this celebration.

That certainly doesn’t sorrowfully ensure silence though, as Lightning’s comment nearly has my shot reappearing in a chuckling choke. “I swear Chaos, if you bring her home you better keep it down. I may be drunk later tonight but I still have ears.” He never fails at enlightening me into a pristine mood. Whenever plagued by pessimistic energy, there’s at least no doubt he’ll reverse my overbearing thoughts with a whip of his comedic words. As best as I can, I attempt to recompose from the coughing spas flaming my lungs. Has my cheeks been engulfed with burning red due to my uncontrollable laughter, and thus inability to entirely breath, or from the truth that has brushed past my Brother’s tongue?

A lovely addition breaks from Tempest’s lip. “Lightning…behave.” Even a rosy color has blessed her features as well. Oh the troubles that stir when us three are mixed together, an aspect I’d never desire to change. Can only imagine the insanity that’ll be crafted this evening.

“No promises.” More sarcasm flutters from my voice that’s itching for intoxication. There will be no communication with the unknown, not until altercation from sobriety lingers in my bloodstream. But for now I can fabricate my obtrusive confidence.

A delicate glass of whiskey sets before Lightning, who doesn’t waste a moment to gently sip the substance. Is that his preferred drink balancing between his fingertips? Shouldn’t I be aware of this given my obsessive protective nature over my siblings? We all participate in this sinful act, though refrain from doing so amongst each other often aside from pacific occasions. Mutual fear the others will believe we’re collapsing into our parents’ routine, most likely. Yet we still all do it. Perhaps moments such as now need to be scheduled more regularly.

“Beer, please.” Please, please, please. Somehow we’ve all adapted to such manners despite our unthinkable Creators that could unlikely establish such. But my favored addiction is requested prior to the Bartender being able to retrieve to other customers. My vision flickers to Tempest, wondering when she’ll be seeking her sugary beverage. Now her order I can vaguely predict.

“Get up there and sing already, Chaos. I know that’s why you came.” Another set of humor retreats from Tempest. She is partially correct, though still I’m not wasted enough to perform such. Plus my main objective was reuniting with my Siblings over some alcohol. “…why not ask that handsome girl to sing with you? I saw you eyeing her.” A heightened grin returns across my lips.

It’s astonishing how both of them know me more then I know myself, yet at times they’re evidently mistaken. Are my egotistical presentations that convincing? When’s the last time I actually brought a girl home? “Still not drunk enough.” I claim with my smirk growing bashful. A chilled beer gets placed in front of me, and I intake a quarter of it instantly. “Okay, one more shot before I stick to beer.” Once more I halt the Bartender from escaping us.

Intensely I witness the brutal liquid consume my shot glass. “I may have the biggest dick in the District, but I’ve misplaced my balls.” I inform, and giggle hysterically as the Bartender’s eyes widen at my remark. Again the luring liquor scorches my throat, as I attempt to gain the stupid daringness solely it can encourage.

My focus searches for the One we were speaking of, only to discover the Stranger’s disappearance from the previous location. Automatically, I’m subtly gazing to find them again. In a corner, as secluded as earlier, there’s more of an urge to invite them to join us. Is it a lustful desire, or an odd instinct that they’re one of us already? Either way the influential poison is beginning to set in.

“How about a game of truth or dare to get the drinks flowing in us quicker?” I offer, with my passion for competition fueling my tone. My loved sport has always been kicking peoples asses in something, even if I’m not always champion. “We can make them quite challenging. And whoever passes one has to take a shot.” The smile upon my expression swiftly alters demonically.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have presented that in a question, as it’s not an option. “Temp, order your girly drink. Lightning, conjure up your most vicious dares. I’m going to see if our talk of the night wants to join. No one’s allowed to be solo on our watch.” The eldest bossiness takes control, as I briefly part from my Loves. Us O’Hanas tend to shelter the solitary.

“You know, I’m pretty sure it’s against Panem’s law to be alone at a bar.” I finally awaken the courage to greet the lonesome. “Why don’t you come join my family & I? We’re playing a game of truth, dare, or drink.” A glance at their beverage informs me they may be misplaced in more ways then one. The cups are always different between the alcohols and the pure. “…You can stick to your soda. I’m sure we’ll convince you to follow us bads eventually.” I lightly tease, nudging my head towards my Siblings in a gesture to unite with the party.

    The boldness of us O’Hana offsprings lingers upon a scale, balancing across different marks depending on the individual and our substance intake. Take Lightning for instance, who will probably conquer nearly any dare without an ounce of liquid influence pumping through his veins; and if there were some whiskey sparking at his brain cells, I wouldn’t doubt his request for more of a challenge if the bashful had questioned him. Then there’s Tempest, with her reckless behavior quite minimal within sobriety. But if intoxication has clasped its sinister fingers upon her, she can become as courageous as the rest of us. And of course this leaves me dancing amongst the middle of the two.

Anxiously there’s a piece of my cheek subtly piercing between the bite of my teeth. Being fearless is a task I refuse to budge from, even when it often has me internally squirming. Wasted, buzz, or in a clear-mind I’ll at least attempt to defeat any form of a test. Evidently Lightning and Tempest were debating if I’d rank the courage to approach the lonely Stranger. And with just a bit of alcohol to cradle me in a mask of confidence, here I stand before the Unknown. But with every second that passes, it feels as though the Shy is destroying my own personal ego.

Not a single word peels from across their tongue in response to my invite. But before we can awkwardly depart, they’re eagerly called to the stage. In a coaxing rumble the name Typhoon sings among the crowd. So they have the guts to apply for serenading a drunken audience, but not to reply to myself? The insult is beyond comprehendible. Even if the timid attributes ring across their features, my inability to deserve a single mark overrides any other thought. And with that their androgynous back is turned towards me.

Shame shuffles my feet back to my adored Siblings, while my eyes breach high in attempt not to drag my rejection. Still hesitation glances at their expressions, until quickly averting to our obtrusive bundle of shots in distraction. “Damn Lightning. Are you planning on carrying my ass to the emergency room with alcohol poisoning?” I humorously questions, knowing very well it wasn’t Tempest that ordered this load. My comments halts there though, as a sudden collision ignites from a distances behind me.

It’s tempting to chuckle that karma’s brushed the scene my vision averts to, but my guilt complex won’t allow such. Typhoon, as I assume my Rejecter’s name is, has landed face-first in front of the stage. Automatically empathy riddles a lace within my heart, along with an instinctive budge to assist the Fallen. Yet my postures doesn’t etch an inch further, as Typhoon swiftly recomposes back to their stance.

“That’s the courage I wish I had. Sing your heart out.” Tempest acknowledges Ty’s strength in returning to the microphone anyways. If only they pertained that esteem earlier, as my own self-disappointment transfers my stare back to the bar. Perhaps Lightning’s hefty order will be required to restore my dignity. But of course that very Brother is requesting for it to be rekindled much sooner.

Another shot engulfs my throat, and again a brutal cough enlightens back due to Lightning’s voice. “Chaos join her! Chaos! Chaos chaos!” He begins a chant similar to the one that ruptured for Typhoon. And to no avail for myself, a few drunken standbys join in.

There’s absolutely no desire to fulfill his challenge. “Is this the first dare?” I question him; already knowing my pride can’t cower from this. Enough disgrace has already been licked upon me. Thankfully a reasonable amount of liquor is truly ruling me.

“Are you singing next, Lightning or we playing the dare game?” Tempest chimes in with a need to gather our standings.

“Both.” I answer her, slowly regaining my pride to overpower my given task. “But I’ve been dared to sing with our friendly Stranger.” Sarcasm spills with a sigh from my tongue. The darkness of my light eyes bounces to Lightning. “I hate you, Love.” I tease, consume another shot, and shuffle towards the stage.

The sound of my voice can be as bipolar as our Parents’ moods. Occasionally the pitch unleashes an enjoyable melody, while other times it’s that of an obnoxious child who lacks properly tuned hearing. Still a dare has been provided, and I will not crumble from such. Without approval I join my Rejecter upon the stage, and take the second microphone. My heart drills beyond a healthy beat, but still I harmonize to their modern carol and follow the words across the screen. A horrid dare for Lightning will certainly be conjured in vicious revenge.

Eyes are unable to direct towards my performance Partner, as our voices unravel across the room. It’s not until an accepting applause breaks from the viewers that I glimpse Typhoon’s way. Was our collaboration actually decent, or are the intoxicated unable to know the difference? Perhaps we’ll never know. What I do need to figure out is whether I’ll be capable of speaking to Ty once again.

“Offer still stands if you’d like to join my family for a game.” Guess my pride wasn’t entirely demolished, while I still shift back to my Siblings immediately. Ty’s appealing spine will not be turned towards me again.

A cocky grin forms my lips as I stroll over to Tempest and Lightning. “You’re on little Brother.” I taunt him, promising that this night will only enhance. This time my old Beer discovers my hold, craving a break from the vicious petite drinks awaiting their calls. Now for some hungry payback, as my stare ventures upward in deep thought. “Let’s keep this game rolling. Tempest, truth or dare?” A hefty challenge of equal standards must be highly contemplated for Lightning. So for now, I allow my Sister to choose the likings of her venom.