ceres chase || district ten

ceres

"Have you ever tried not being ugly?" She leans her elbow against the counter, head resting heavy on her companions' shoulder as she blinks up at him through heavy lashes. His eyes were hazy, from drink or a general lack of intelligence Ceres can't be sure, but it seems to take him a good couple moments to process what she's just said.

"E-excuse me?" His thin lips curl into a snarl, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Wanting to lash out, but hesitating. That's annoying.

"I. said-" She repeats the words, slower, not moving her head off of his shoulder because the view of his features twisted into a cocktail of confused rage is so much better here. "you're. ugly."

That does it. Knuckles align hard with her nose, sending her toppling out of the bar stool and flat onto her back. Her opponent is stained a splotchy red, near foaming at the mouth and shouting obscenities she's grateful she cannot hear over the ringing in her ears. "Ay! Marge!" She waves at the bartender, shuffling away from the angry, drunk, ugly man still spewing shit Ceres reckons would earn a bar of soap shoved down his throat if his Ma were within ten miles of the place.

Marge, godbless her, merely rolls her eyes and sets about retrieving an empty beer bottle from somewhere beneath the bar's counter. "This is the last time, Chase!"

"You say that every time!" Blood drips from her nose into her mouth as she dodges the ogre's second blow, wincing a bit as she pushes herself to her feet and flings her hand out just in time to catch the bottle Marge has thrown her way with the force of a stray bullet. "Thanks babe!"

She shatters the base of the bottle against a nearby table, stifling a laugh as its occupant gasps at the broken glass suddenly strewn across her lap. "Willing to bet I won't?" Her fingers tighten around the neck of her new weapon, expression drawn up in a venomous sneer. The drunkard, thankfully, hesitates, eyeing the weapon for a while before sagging in obvious defeat. It really wasn't worth getting gutted in ten before midnight.

"'Least you ain't ugly and stupid. That'd be a shame."

The oaf then gathers up his pride, whatever was left of it, and slams the door on his way out of the bar in one last act of defiance.

"Y'know someone's gonna get the best of you one of these days." Marge chuckles as Ceres slides into the newly vacant seat, swiping at the stripe of blood still flowing freely onto her chin.

"I sure fuckin' hope so. Otherwise it'd be no fun."

"If you're gonna keep talkin' like that I oughta tell Dio where her niece hangs out on the weekends." Ceres chokes on the threat, putting on her best pout as she tries to catch Marge's darkened gaze.

"I'm a bit past reprimands, don't you think?"

Her old friend sighs, turning away to start on the dishes stacked up against the sink. "Take care of yourself, Ceres." And Ceres says nothing because she can't give her the answer she'd like.

The walk home is quiet. He nose isn't broken, thank god, and summer has left these nights wonderfully quiet and dreadfully sticky. She's not had a drop of liquor - she went to bars to appreciate the atmosphere more than anything. She had to make sure the sickly sweet scent of the flowershop didn't cling too tightly to her clothes. The confusing aroma of lilies and daisies and roses and sage tended to give people the wrong idea. She might live above her Aunt's shop but Ceres Chase was nothing like Spring.

Auntie Dio glares at her when she gets home, bell above the door giving a tinny laugh in spite of the late hour. Incense smoulders upon the countertop, burned down to its end as though to accentuate just how long she's kept her waiting. Her tongue clicks at the sight of her niece, blood caked to her face and hair knotted with sweat and spilled drink. "I told you not to cause trouble today."

She doesn't sound angry, she never does. "I never told you I'd listen."

Dio sighs, fighting a smile as she switches the open sign to closed. She always waits until Ceres comes home.

"One of these days-" She rests a hand in Ceres hair, mussing it further, "you'll understand why I worry."

Ceres presses a kiss to her Aunt's cheek, but doesn't meet her eyes. They've had this conversation a thousand times before. "We'll see, won't we?"

Some things weren't meant to change.