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Rush Revel [Fin] Read 10957 times

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #60 on: April 11, 2017, 10:38:41 am »
Poppy promptly stepped into her fitted battle armor. It had been a sore spot for the brother, and he had reacted defensively, which meant he'd not spoken with much forethought, he usually didn't with his family, while he could be very calculating with Silly Boys. He wanted to yell at her, to appropriately cement that he could not go home, and how dare she, he even inhaled between parted teeth to bark it clearly to her, but something so cerebral would be full of flaws, and then Poppy would have enough ammunition. When he turned his face away, it was to shake the folds and shadows of wrath out. Frustration lived and died in his shoulders and he thought he’d betrayed to his own impulses.

He took some comfort in Phae’s reaction to his touches, then, before he became the first victim of the application. While her minimal scolding didn’t have any real taste, he knew if Phedra said it, there must be some truth to it, in her heart. He could live with being ridiculous. He remained quite confident, and winked smugly at Poppy while their friend made up her mind. “Oh, Phae, I dear you too.” He replied and it was an old joke between the three of them. Dion misinterpreted her rising crimson to fill her cheekbones for having been at that jest. He would have been happier to know the truth.

The winking eye and its other clipped again, dumbly, listening to the task that was laid up. It was quite a contrast in receiving such a devastating mission from such benevolent lips, which were sharply lined, with their arch, and softly shaped in their smallness, as he’d always appreciated. He was hurting for his own ego at first, and then because she was wrong in that his leaving was an evil toward them. The sentiment that he’d placed himself far beyond her reach when he’d kept a lifeline with Poppy brought his heavily sauntering heart to a dead stop. When she spoke he had to listen, because she’d not made herself known to voice her concerns. And these were impactful.

His wrist went over the cap of her knee of the leg he was holding, hand open like he was hungry. He intended to soothe her, somehow, and even considered promising that he’d be back in the house where they’d grown up, one day. If he’d left for shame, father’s shame, then he could come back for Phaedra’s sake. Self-appointed family man, Dion. But his friendly touch had no time to undo the distance before Poppy all too eagerly pulled his ego back. And it was neglected and belligerent in him. His large, predatory mouth became small with irritation and spells of cusses that he had to eat. Phaedra’s leg was off his lap now, too, but the dismissal wasn’t at her, precisely. Sometimes anger is just outward.

“You’re a fucking snake.” He said, beside his own control, at the gleeful girl beside Phae. Her green color, which threaded over the innate dark underneath, was cold on his eyes then. Poppy was supposed to know, he thought, because she was afflicted too. But she didn’t. She just put her own creed of aristocracy in adversary on him. He tried to deliver some of that to her, but he suspected the meaning was burnt away by his propensity for anger. If Phae tried to take it back he’d look at her with those eyes too. He’d not step back now.

“I’m sorry.” He started, and the guilt was helpful in quelling the outburst waiting in his stomach. This was an opportunity too. If Phae would listen then Poppy had to, as well. He took both their hands and held them to his face. They smelt lovely together. He remembered the flavors of their blood. “I was fed up with my weakness and then I did a horrible thing.” The boy who’d been too innocent to know, and too delicious to let be. “It was too much, and father knows, in part.” He said and it was a lot of air out of his lungs, because he’d not confessed like this before. “But I should have afforded both of you the courtesy of saying.” They had their hands back, and he looked candid.

He turned to Poppy, and even though she was making him as angry as only she knew how, she deserved this. “You’re my sister, my twin, and I think I’d be devastated if you left like I did. I am sorry for that. I was selfishly eager to lick my wounds.” And then Phae, who afforded him all this. “Phae, I’m sorry for leaving and for the way that I left and for the way that I stayed away. I still love you. I just thought now wasn’t a good time for good things in my life.” Love, again. Hopefully she’d hear it right, this time. “You must come visit me when you can, and if not, I’ll come to you.”

He waited until all the words had either fallen down or gone all the way to where they wanted to be. After that he laughed lightly to dispel some of the gravity. He was about to continue the course of events, hoping deeply for Poppy, and for the square to say Dare.

“Sister dare.” He'd start, and it wouldn't be sweet or funny. His hand would come up again, toward her, turned to show the line of life and curled fingers. Soft hand that had only really worked when it was dealing punishment to those that had the same thing as he in their blood. “Have some.” He’d rather she bit into the flesh, draw blood, but if she was feeling fatalistic, he’d still stand for it if she wanted a finger. “It’s what you like, too, isn’t it?” Phaedra hadn’t seen this side of Poppy, and Poppy didn’t acknowledge it herself, fully. He would have considered the cruelty to their friend with her paper heart, unsoaked, but he was more out for retaliation, now. And being bitten by sister hadn’t been unpleasant in the kitchen. It was time they included Phae in their pathology, anyway.

But he realized, reaching to spin that arrow and setting this gamble in motion again, that he needed their forgiveness also, and his eyes became wider at the sudden thought. He looked up from the screen that he’d stared at with greed, and his attention went from Phae to Poppy.
« Last Edit: April 11, 2017, 03:32:37 pm by Verse »

VenomousEve

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #61 on: April 14, 2017, 05:26:21 am »
Phaedra thought she didn’t know what to do with the way Dion answered. It was what she’d wanted, she supposed. Some part of her. And then there was the part that regretted asking. In the context of his sincere apology, she couldn’t be so self-absorbed as to read his love wrong. The result was a shadow of remorse for the moments before Poppy and a latent embarrassment for her own fantasies. Phae had been very willing to misunderstand, and wanted to still, but she was a creature of moods and the ambiance of repressed romance had fled Poppy’s green stare and she felt like she was her twelve-year-old self again. She’d felt special for the forehead kisses to distract from her scraped knees until Poppy had received the same without bleeding.

“I’d like to visit you, when I can.” Phaedra said quietly. She was somewhat deflated, a little less brave than the girl who’d bared her heart and throat earlier. Poppy was watching her.

“Well. At the very least, you could afford to call her from time to time.” She suggested, because Phaedra would get in trouble for visiting and hadn’t the benefits of lineage to protect her place in the family home. And Poppy supposed that Dion was lying about visiting. Her expression said as much, a little warning there. As usual, she would deny Phae the things that made the girl’s heart flutter to preserve her. It was a curious thing, how sure the sister was that her twin could not return Phaedra’s earnest. It spoke volumes more about her than her brother. Nonetheless, it was unlikely anyone in that room had stopped to question her.

Phaedra cleared her throat after a moment, the silence after Poppy’s half joke growing uncomfortable. They all laughed out of obligation. “Sorry.” Phae said, before Dion spun the needle. For saying things that made too much somber. For reminding their game that it was in older hands. She should have started lighter, like Dion had suggested.

It was chance rather than Dion’s will that brought the needle toward Poppy and demanded a dare. Still, he looked too satisfied with the result for the sister not to be incredulous. It was light, though, which was needed after the thick of Dion’s apologies. Her expression made Phaedra laugh. Poppy seemed to like that attention and did not quite catch the shift in Dion’s expression, playing into the premise of her annoyance with a huff and roll of her eyes. “Well, have your revenge, Little Brother.” She said with the weary of a practiced elder sibling.

Her theatrics snapped like a tensioned line, abrupt when he extended his hand toward her. Poppy’s stare was sparking, the way she’d first come sweeping through that door. Always ready to judge, that one, and fast to jump to conclusions. If she was wrong, she’d have her superiority before it was proven and shift guilt in the aftermath. It was cruel to embarrass her, after all. But Poppy was not jumping to conclusions now. An instinctual read of the offer before it fell off his lips, written on his veins with glaring clarity. She would have slapped him if it weren’t so likely to make Phaedra cry.

“Fuck you, Dion.” Poppy said to his extended limb. Phae startled where she sat as Poppy’s hissing and Dion’s dare summed in her head finally.

“Oh, Dion, don’t…” she murmured weakly. Poppy hadn’t moved.

“Right after that apology, too? You really are a spoiled brat.” Poppy said. Phae was moving, like she thought she could physically prevent Poppy’s words from stabbing through the semblance of nostalgia they’d captured. “I don’t like anything about it.” Poppy continued. She sounded like she believed it. Poppy was a firm believer in ruling her own nature. But still she swallowed hard.

“Dionysus, you shouldn’t… and to Poppy, you shouldn’t…” Phaedra started. She was very honestly concerned for them both, but there was a personal urgency in her voice that surprised herself and gave her pause. She’d not anticipated the sudden panic that welled up in her chest when Dion reached out. A frightening sense of being other from them. Dion had said Poppy was innocent, but he sat there with his hand held out and Phaedra felt she’d been betrayed. “This was just supposed to be fun, like it used to be.”


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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #62 on: April 15, 2017, 01:46:16 am »
They were gracious. It was more than he should have but he had very little issue with receiving it. First from Phae, with that little image of her coming to the summer house to see if he was any good as a host, and then his sister, speaking sense while meaning Phae was unrealistic and he was negligent. The chaste and the chastiser. It was all of Dion's happiness on the couch, then. The taste from Poppy's tongue stayed between them all until Phaedra was sorry again. He'd smirked and looked her in the eye when the arrow went around. It wasn't necessary to always forgive her.

Poppy was the appropriate amount of confident and then held all of the fitting blades out. The poor friend, always on everyone's side, tried to dispel something he'd cast. It was not so easily taken away. Not when Poppy looked at his hand as though it was coated in blood already, and she was wearing a white dress she prefer remain innocent. Her insult and refusal rolled off him as it should never. Sister's harshness was supposed to stick. It was what kept Dionysus in line. Phaedra and her protest did less still, when she realized.

"I'm not so spoiled, Poppy. Look at me, thinking of your tastes." he replied with some interest in the way he searched her face for signs of lies. The lack of such clues made him more adamant. When Phae slid herself closer to insert herself his other hand took her knee to stop her. He said without a sound that she should not come any further. The touch rewarded her when, in truth, she could not press on if she wanted to. The ball of his wrist was raised closer to Poppy and her contrary mouth.

"Isn't the point of the game exactly this, big sister?" He was testing where the lines were between them now, not rebelling. Where was she in the sickness he was drowning in? How much was his iron worth to her? When he got up on his knees he was able to bring those veins to be warmed by her breath, and his caressing hand higher on Phaedra's leg, on the inside, to summon the boiling ghost they'd played with before Poppy had come. Indulgent boy, gourmet.

He wanted Poppy to see his pulse, then, as she left a fog over his ready vessels. "You can give up and loose if you want to." he said with some condescension he'd learned from her. He wasn't sure if he was squeezing Phae's leg to make sure he could subdue her, or if he was simply letting all his impulses run, now. "Or you can go ahead and be a little brave, in front of Phaedra." He smiled lovingly at their friend. "She accepts me. She will accept you." It was probably true. "Won't you, Phae?" he asked, and had his hand was where it had been, before sister had knocked. Outside of the zipper, this time, but hugging her shape perfectly, still.

It would be hard for the stoic twin to answer Dion now, with the barely clad sinew on the underside of his forearm pushing against her mouth. He breathed as quietly as he could, offering something so sensitive, and having taken this so far. It was delicious, this straining from three hearts, spiced with the self-lies they kept, and sugared by the possibility of catharsis. He wanted to ruffle them both deeply, no matter the cost, belligerent as he was in his fatigue. How could such a profound craving not be destined to come out? Why shouldn't they bask in it?

It fell on big sister, then, to see his side of things, and expose Phae to new sensibilities, or stop him, somehow.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #63 on: April 18, 2017, 03:19:44 am »
Poppy was something non-Newtonian; she bristled and grew more obstinate under that pressure. He should have boiled her like a frog, a slower and steadier slip. It would have been more akin to her taste, if he'd reflected on their past. She had always been the mightiest at back pedaling when she'd been leading the downward chase. Her superiority would have her in the lead, either way. Tonight, her eyes were thallium fire. "The point was to have a nice time. You're thinking of nobody but yourself." Low cutting sounds off that pretty pink tongue.
 
Her neck was stiff.
 
Phaedra froze when Dion's hand found her. He was playing all this so much further than he had to. It was welling panic in her throat that clashed with all the other feelings he spun. "Please stop it," Phaedra tried, and it was muffled behind all the tension between the twins. They strung tight as piano wire and left her reaching for keys. She, outside, and calling.
 
Poppy grit her teeth buy held all the edges from his skin. She could still taste her salt and his, the kitchen floor cold truths on her spine. His wrist against her lips, pressing insistence, was an incredible offense. Poppy had always loved her brother, but she'd never had as fatalistic a heart. Perhaps it was because she'd always been so sure she was better. She glanced at Phae, who seemed verging on tears. The girl was overwhelmed more than anything, Poppy was sure. Under normal circumstances, she'd be boxing Dionysus's ears for the lewd implications of his wandering hand. It made her angry that berating him that ways seemed mild for the present.
 
Phae made a wounded kind of sound. "I love you both. Of course I accept whatever... but you... why are you doing this?" She asked. Perhaps she'd realized he was taking advantage. That kind of clarity was easier when she knew Poppy would say it if she didn't figure it out herself. Dion would not have had the chance to reply before Phaedra shrieked, watching as Poppy's foot shot out from where she'd tucked it on the couch to impact the center of her brother's chest. It was not done gently. Rather, there was very little held back in the flex of that limb. It was fortunate that Poppy was not an exceptionally large or strong woman. Still, it was enough to startle and hurt.
 
Whether Dion fell back or only wavered, his sister would use the chance to shove herself away from his reach. She must have been a little desperate, angry and unsettled by the puls he'd pressed to her mouth. Poppy would not have resorted to that kind of behavior otherwise. She was rough when she grabbed Phaedra's wrist and yanked them both from the sofa. Dion's phone clattered from Phae's lap. "Can't trust him anymore, Phae. He's being an ass. Let's go." She snarled. "It's not a game when you play like that, Idiot."
 
Phaedra stumbled after Poppy, her arm still in the girl's grasp. She wasn't resisting as they went for the door, but she was looking back. The big dark eyes looked deeply disturbed, but it was apparent that it was out of worry for him still. She couldn't bring herself to see a wolf in her friend; Poppy had resisted which meant none of them were lost. Phaedra was too fast to want to throw herself back on the fire. She tore her gaze away from him when she realized Poppy was talking. "He's fucked up, Phaedra. Don't even think about going after him after this."
 
Poppy was looking at him too. If he'd wanted to become the seat of her own self-loathing, it seemed he was well on his way toward success.   

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #64 on: April 18, 2017, 10:42:01 am »
He thought it was pleasant when Poppy looked back at him from the end of his arm, speaking hotly with cold reprimand. It put a heavy blanket on his heart, testing the strings that suspended it. He kept the contact light enough that she could speak, her reaction was the goal, but he’d still have some of her spit on top of the skin that barely dressed his blood. Phaedra, asking him in that voice to cease this venture into asinine - redly calling him – was attractive in another way. Oddly, though adoring, that made him feel worse than Poppy’s poison. Their friend’s question made him more adamant to fulfill this display, because it confirmed forever that he was being a villain.

He was about to explain to her innocence, present it with some damning thing that would make her distrust him, even appall her. It would be Sugar’s Dionysus, volume turned up, so he’d not be something made up for this point. But as he started speaking, and forgot about the most powerful of them, Poppy exorcised his air. Whatever that was ready in his fanged mouth, it croaked and fell short when he was forced back. A single cough that was also laughter, bitter, angry. There was a thought to grab the ankle of the leg that had thwarted him, and topple them both as they left. Wouldn’t it be delicious to hold them down? He still wanted revenge on his sister, but he felt enough like an asshole to be further paralyzed by the kick as Poppy took the purity in the room by the hand.

“I win then?” to send them off. He also wanted to stomp on himself. It would hurt more than either of them could imagine if Phae would listen to Poppy, and deem him entirely unreliable. He was perversely invested in that kind of pain. Another, then. “Don’t listen to her, Phae.” His arms were out, and he sat on his heels where they’d left him. It was not genuine surrender, and his hardened shoulders gave that away, plenty. “She’s just jealous of us. Come here. Let’s just be animals together. You’re the best I’ve ever tasted.” It was easier than he would have thought to make a hungry smile when he wanted to cry. His fingers, extended, crawled like spiders to enhance the uncomfortable totem he was being. He threw a quick eye on his sister, and wondered if the sentiment that she better not let go reached her.

He worried for their journey home, but remembered Poppy still  had all of the family’s gold in her coffers. She’d come here easily enough. After they’d gone, though, and he’d switched the room to darkness again, Dion went to the window, and sat underneath its infernal and azure rays, listening. If he heard menacing ruckus he’d barrel down. He slept as he’d intended, for an hour, alone and without rest. It was not as romantic as he’d imagined it. In the dark that was not so long from becoming morning, he was visited by a girl who’d given her last moments to his first. He thought he’d be undone if he thought of her completely, her last bed in the RV, and was able to save some kind of sanity, and not toss himself out the glass, by returning to how the two women must hate him. It was a dark balance, but it kept him together, well enough. When he thought he’d fall back into the uncomfortable slumber on the floor, he’d touch his fingertips to his sternum, and remember Poppy.

-

That kind of night has its costs, and he was not opposed to paying it. More interested eyes on him than usual, since he’d not worn prim when he arrived on father’s bike, this morning. Dismount while pulling the helmet and tearing the scarf, like a Clyde after shaking the cops. Dion sat there, back hunched slightly in his bench, with murder hanging onto his gaze, and fatigue on his eyelids. His hair, he’d taken care, was still on his forehead. Clothes from yesterday. He was another kind of image all in black. He didn’t leave his aura completely toxic, since he reckoned this kind of distant intrigue was the only affection he’d be getting in a while. The teacher sure was going on though, wasn’t she. He scribbled on his notepad, and tried to make it look as though he wasn’t thinking of organs and cartilage. If anyone would ever look at those papers later, they’d see a perfectly shaded shoulder with too many deep crosses over it.

He looked around for Sugar, and then smiled to himself. They’d promised him something for today, hadn’t they? In his own holiness he thought he should have even more now, that Sugar had marred Phae. Dion rested his hand on his other wrist, and didn’t notice he was carefully running the nail of his thumb over Poppy’s ghost, there.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #65 on: April 21, 2017, 08:35:18 pm »
“Yeah. You win.” Poppy said with an expression that said he very much had not. The door was loud when it closed behind them, and even Phaedra seemed muted enough to contain any reticence she had about leaving him. In the car, Poppy’s knuckles were white gripping the steering wheel. “In case you were wondering, I’m not into whatever he’s into now.” She said.

Phaedra coughed and nodded and stared at the window, the neon and dark reflecting off her eyes. “But you’re like him, right?” She asked. She didn’t know how else to phrase it. “You want to—“

“I don’t want anything.” Poppy cut her off. “But yes, I guess I’m like him. If you have to put it that way.” She said. Phae flinched. The two friends were usually honest with one another, but only because Poppy did not speak about the things she didn’t want spoken about. It left no reason for lies. Here, this kind of honesty in this car, it was probably the same result Dion might have claimed he wanted. Whether it was true or not was another story. Neither girl was sure he’d wanted anything other than vile and blood with his wrist pressed to his sister’s mouth.

“Can I help?” Phaedra asked. Poppy shook her head.

“Just don’t talk about it. And be careful with Dion. He’s spoiled, like I said. Leave him alone until he comes to his senses.” Poppy said. Phaedra nodded, because Poppy sounded so certain that Dionysus would, in fact, come to his senses.

The two snuck into the house at half past three and slept together in Phaedra’s bed. Poppy would make an appropriate entrance tomorrow morning, bringing the car back from around the block. Phaedra did not fall asleep until long after Poppy’s breathing had slowed and deepened. Framed in the thin moonlight through Phae’s window, Poppy was Dion’s ghost in the room. The twins had always shared their prettiest features. Phaedra wondered what inside them was so different, that Poppy would grit her teeth and Dion would open his mouth wide, and she wondered why she was fated to be so apart from them.

--

Sugar was late. She slouched into the classroom, skirting the edge of the desks so as not to interrupt the lecture. It wasn’t because she was polite. It was just that she didn’t want to be talked to. She took a seat in the back—it was hers by default and nobody took it, even when she missed class. Like bloodlust could rub off on you like cooties. She looked a little surprised when she saw Dionysus there. That guy had missed class for a few weeks before this. People had talked about it. Sugar had talked about it, even, though she’d not admit it. Dion’s little gang of boys hadn’t had their leader. Some students had breathed easier. Others had worried for the absence of his annoyingly pretty face.

She snapped her bubblegum and pulled out a notebook. He must be feeling refreshed, after all those treats yesterday. Late night though. She wondered if his little dark-haired innocent had made it home safe. A small smile. That girl had tasted nice. Maybe her bones were littering whatever den Dion was living out of. She tucked a chopped strand of milky blonde behind her ear. Greedy one, that Deer. And more on the way, from what she’d seen tied down in Danny’s trunk this morning. 

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #66 on: April 22, 2017, 02:38:17 am »
Dionysus was suddenly very uninterested in the world when Sugar came. He was too good for his sketch and then too good to lean on his hand. It ended in a dramatically loose hunch in his seat. Certainly he'd not seen her enter, thought there was very little other motion to compete for anyone's focus. She was a sugar cube in an already pale environment. Why should she matter at all. And still he could tell anyone the strung-out hue of the gum she chewed and which ear her hair hung on.

How could any of the girls, doing the same as him, ignoring artfully but pointedly, compare to his only kindred? If he hated her for tasting Phae, or if he liked her for knowing his sickness and thinking nothing of it, she was still leagues more important than anyone who'd seen his fall and thought it was becoming. He didn't mind the masks they tried on him, but he'd rather not involve himself too much either. He'd still be affluent if attention from blossoming hearts and the quims bound to them were worth money. But Sugar, she had an entire world of uses to him. Almost like a friend.

When they were asked to pair up, he moved swiftly, having heard nothing of the task. There is power in the way a boy wields his shoulders, and his were pumped straight up as he stood, hands on the desk. It sent to the flexing ankles and ready women that he was determined for someone else. He took his notes for show and cut beside a line of desks to stand to the side and behind Sugar, leaning against the wall. He remained like that until the noise of others finding their places had calmed.

Acquiring a chair was easy enough. The boy that frowned decided to squat by his preferred partner to challenging the taller and rougher Dionysus. Dion had been both rude and assumptive about waving him away. "I don't like what you did to my friend yesterday." Because I wanted to do it first. He sat down next to her, new throne and all. Placing the open notes over hers should be enough to suggest effective collaboration to the teacher. He looked her over and nodded, as though forgiving her or clearing her for his company. "Neat place though. Would you mind telling me more about our-- scene?" it was a rather public place to be asking, especially since he'd not been interested in anyone else since he'd started here and curious ears might be aimed, so he took care to cross his forearms on the surface between them and lean close to Sugar for the exchange. "I think you can be more fun than anyone here, at least."

He'd not forgotten Danny's promise, because he was still reeling from the price. Perhaps it was that insurance, and that well of continued satisfaction that gave him this confidence with her. He'd never been overly polite since they met, though, if not presented directly with his crimson weaknesses. Again, every other distraction in this room was agonizingly dull while she was relevant.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #67 on: April 22, 2017, 06:42:41 am »
Sugar snapped her gum once, and then again, before she bothered to look in his direction. Slow tilt, red honey eyes. “Oh.” She said, and it was more in the shape of her mouth than any real sound. “Okay.” Because it didn’t matter what he liked. She’d taken the first bite. Didn’t that just mean he’d been too slow? There was a tiny spark in that stare, something compelling. Addicted to the microcosmic powers their world offered, and unapologetic about it. Really, they were probably built to get along well. Probably burn each other up on the way, too. At least it might be more even footing than Poppy gave him and less selfless than Phaedra offered. But Sugar didn’t know anything about that.

“You’re Dionysus, right?” she said, as if she didn’t know. Everyone in the school knew. But Sugar hadn’t met him before. Not Dion. Just that cocky shit Deerest. “Do you know my name?” she asked. There were equal chances he would or wouldn’t. His pack liked picking on her sort when they could and on the poor saps who couldn’t say otherwise when there was nothing else available. But Sugar had been left in the background of academy life because she made people uncomfortable. She was too comfortable with what she was. She refused to hide it. It was unlikely anyone had bothered to say her name to him directly. It sounded too much like a curse.

“Dulcinea.” She offered the answer before he could provide a guess. Maybe it was a curse. It was obvious she liked Sugar better. “Maybe you heard. There were rumors I stole samples from the anatomy lab.” She said. Popped a bubble. She didn’t say she hadn’t.

She laughed a little then, tossing her buttercream hair like it could fall over her shoulder, but there wasn’t enough length. “Our scene?” she asked. It was partially because he’d put them in the same group and partially because the Fox King’s ‘scene’ was hardly hers, pronouns notwithstanding. “Not exactly. Could be yours, I guess.” She said. If she was inclined to be honest about it, Sugar figured the Fox King was probably the sort of speed Deerest would like.

“I go to watch the parties sometimes, that’s all. They like me there.” She said. There was always somebody in the mood to feel like a gourmet. Sugar liked being anywhere she could feel like royalty. Even if it was somebody else’s kingdom. “Your friend was a happy coincidence, I guess.” She gave him a peculiar sort of smile. “If you’re the possessive type, maybe keep her away from the Fox Dens though.” It was all he was going to get out of her at school. Not because she minded the discussion, but because that was the way most people in the know talked about the Fox King’s underground.

Sugar pushed a finger against the side of her cheek, like she was trying to be theatrically contemplative, but dug her nail a little deeper than any acting would call for. “I’m surprised a little prince like you would bow far enough to be seen with a girl like me,” she said, without believing a word of it. She might have had a point, six months ago.

Today, they looked like they had planned to be partners. She, with her usual haphazard interpretation of the school uniform, and he in something rumpled under the school jacket like he’d slept in it. If she had to guess, he had. Somehow they both seemed like they’d been born to make that dishevel vogue. He had his cut pretty, and she had all her alien. She dropped her hand and left a tiny pink arc behind. It welled red. She was still grinning. “Are you hungry enough for later? It’s better not to waste.”     
« Last Edit: April 22, 2017, 06:58:20 am by VenomousEve »

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #68 on: April 22, 2017, 07:46:32 pm »
Two bubbles of laughter came undone low in his throat, when she wasn't bothered by his disapproval of her taking of Phae. Audacious peasant. But he knew she didn't have much stock in his opinion. Right now he was willing to let that be her charm. She wasn't lacking in other things to appeal to him, though. "I am." he gave her. And aren't you glad that I am? Said the inevitable curl of one corner of his lips. Dulcinea was the kind of name you'd find here, though rather high up, for creativity. "Sugar's better." Dulcinea has no use to me, though pretty. He wondered about the samples, if she still had them, and it flooded his teeth behind his lips.

Not much information for an overarching understanding of his condition. It wasn't because she wasn't knowledgeable or even withholding. He'd not asked the right question. Transparency was good. He'd paid a lot of money for transparency in others. He also wanted them to like him at-- the Fox Dens? Another social ladder.  It was a braver boy with Sugar this morning, because he'd darkly treasured the bile Poppy had spit at him during the night. He'd never been far from exploring the world of the hungry, and now his own greed had put him in a position to believe there was nothing to return to, anyway. Like all who would say they were noble, Dionysus was a skillful smith of excuses to follow his moods. He was excited at the prospect of returning to a red wonderland, and she was saying he might, in her advice not to bring sweet Phae. Or that's how he heard it.

"I am the possessive type." he said and thought about it. It was true enough in any aspect of his life. His concentration spiked when her finger pushed into her skin. If she read his pupils that would be clear. "Don't sell yourself short, low little girl." he encouraged like only a dangerously inflamed ego could. "What's the use of owning the school if I can't play how I want in it?" Not on paper, perhaps, but it would be hard to point at another king around here, since he had the adoration, and practiced the cruelty of one.

He was so confident, or so negligent of the other student's opinions, that he leaned in to give Sugar a peck on the cheek, relieving the little wound of its moist. Many wouldn't have seen the blood anyway, and would be more prone to gossip over the physical endearment itself. When his head drew back he looked at her face with admiration, for having been gifted the attention of his lips. Dion didn't even consider it an audacity, or that she hadn't expressively allowed him. What a dreamy thing that lived over his tongue all of a sudden. He wanted more, of course.

"I think from now on I will always be hungry." he replied and smiled much like a lover before looking down to draw more in his notes.

When the class ended, and it did so soon since the pairing was an introduction and not for substantial work, yet, he took her hand. To some of the hearts that beat his name as a chorus, the two made miserable sense, like Dion had found something they'd all not considered. Because out of all the pretties none had thought of Sugar as competition, with danger looming around her, and her quiet. Even the ones who should be wiser, nursing themselves still from his selfish, violent intimacy, had thought he liked prim and softly perfumed things. Perhaps that was why they were forgotten and Dulcinea got to hold his hand. Or had his hand forced upon hers.

It was inevitable that he'd run into Caspian and the merry lords. At a distance the would-be brother looked ecstatic to see him. Sweet boy. A handful of prospective leaders of their school's social tiers strode to meet him. Dion might have looked keen too, Sugar in hand. But he didn't slow when he entered their numbers on the way, free hand shoving into the shoulder of a nameless boy. At least he afforded the aghast Caspian the courtesy of turning without stopping as they passed.

"But you haven't been here in forever." Caspian tried. Poppy was good with her secrets, but even he'd picked up in her that she was worried. The boy also felt a bit abandoned. Dionysus could easily justify any rudeness he wanted to extent with Caspian's connection to his beloved sister. Yes. Today he was jealous out of convenience.

"Fuck me, right?" Dion explained in a chipper tone. "See you soon, brother. Say hello to Poppy for me if you see her." If he met Phaedra or Poppy herself, things might not be so easily brushed off.

A few turns later, he let go of Sugar to put hands in his pockets. The crowd was dwindling and with it the curiosity for the new, disheveled prodigal son. He smiled at her in the light coming in from a big window, and thought that if she stepped into it too, she'd disappear. "When is later?" he asked, with his shining new addiction. "I think we could both go for a little something." He was being reckless, but he'd also established himself as someone who might do whatever he pleased. If Sugar had the mind to, she might see it as a new freedom, or a nuisance.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #69 on: April 23, 2017, 05:35:07 am »
Sugar shrugged. “My parents were in to Don Quixote. Makes sense, I guess.” She didn’t seem attached to the name either and didn’t bring up how. When he thought to bask in his place above her, she was not impressed. That was fine, because she was fairly certain Dion could care less about impressing her. In this world, that was to be expected and in their other she had enough worshippers that he would not be missed. She flicked the wad of bubblegum over her lower lip, teeth clasped on one sticky edge, and then reeled it in again with her tongue.

It was another story when he put his lips to her cheek. Bastard. He really didn’t seem to grasp the concept of asking for permission. She wondered if that extended to the pretty bunny he’d taken away last night. Had he strung her over the rails of some bed and taken without asking then too? She pulled away from him with the sort of annoyed disgust only a much more beautiful creature should have been afforded. Someone with the standard blade and elegance. Poppy, maybe. “Annoying.” Was all she said, because the way his hungry eyes had flexed for her red had been an even enough exchange. Still, her should have asked. “I mean. Have a little class.” And then she laughed, and it wasn’t even scornful, because it was a ridiculous thing for her to say in that secondhand uniform. Even Phaedra had been given the luxury of unworn clothes.

When the bell rang, she pushed his notepad off of her own with the butt of her pencil, like his items were vaguely distasteful to her. When they stood to leave, she was aware of too many eyes on her. It was strange, because the hostility felt familiar but the openness of it did not. She was used to averted stares, not soul searching with vitriol. She didn’t seem bothered by it. Scrappy girl. Instead, she drew more ire from their onlookers when she was visibly unhappy with Dion’s hold on her hand. “Why are you touching me?” she asked, before they pressed through his old cadre of young buck aristocrats.

She gave every one of the boys defiant stares, whether they deserved it or not. Like a feral cat, she was happy to swipe first and ask questions later. Nowhere in that equation was an apology on the table, which was well enough. Every one of that group was baffled by Dionysus’s present company. “Don’t tell me you’ve been slumming all this time.” Armand called after him. He sounded genuinely pissed. They were so far above girls like that. Dionysus was supposed to know that in his bones. “Be careful, or she’ll probably eat your cock for lunch and leave you without a damn thing to show for it!” he yelled a little louder. That brought back the usual mood. The other gawkers pulled their stares. Stepped back into line. Reminded themselves that Dulcinea was their ambassador boogie man.

“I guess he’s not wrong, sort of.” Sugar remarked. “Not your cock, though. That’s disgusting.” She said, like Armand had suggested she’d unapologetically eat a bowl of beets or something. She tugged a little at her hand, testing his grip. He seemed intent to keep it, so she huffed and sidled on after him as if it were a great favor to follow along. When they finally stopped, she looked cross in the same way she’d looked cross when he’d first wandered up to Danny’s car. Nothing personal, just bothered.

“Later is whenever you get in touch with Danny and he gives you a time.” Sugar said. She probably could have mustered an estimate for him, but it seemed prudent to make a point of separation there. She didn’t work for Danny. It wasn’t her business to play secretary for his clients. It wasn’t her plan to play secretary for this idiot either.

Her head tilted a little too far with his suggestion. Blinking amber in the sun, her long lashes looked dirtier than her hair but might as well have been translucent by the window. Sugar looked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?” she said at last. It was caught somewhere in between wondering why Dionysus would ever apply the phrase ‘both of us’ to himself and Dulcinea, and wondering why the Deer thought Sugar had any desire to satisfy him in any way. Still, in the end, the question wasn’t a no. Which meant Sugar was at least a little curious too.

Phaedra turned the corner in time to see Sugar caught in the edges of window sunlight and Dion in her company. She hesitated, frightened for a moment, and pressed her palm to the place both those beasts had sampled her. Then, she remained frozen because of the things Poppy had said last night and their direct competition with her desire to go to him. When they made eye contact, she’d remember her feet in a sudden rush and cross just close enough to give him an apologetic smile. “It’s good to see you back at school.” She said as she went by.   

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #70 on: April 23, 2017, 05:40:41 pm »
He'd looked at their hands when she asked. A little tighter squeeze when he winked at her. "Oh, this? I guess you're just having a good day. Enjoy it." At the base of all his sides, he had a measure of charm. It was unthinkable that he'd be raised without it.

Dion did not have so much class, though - as she'd said about his theft of the raspberry crescent on her cheek - when Armand thought it would be fitting to be overly crass. It earned Armand a bastard thing between a smirk and a grin, that Dion famously saved for victims of their hazing, when those unfortunate students were at his shoes. A little promise that Armand, despite their earlier camaraderie, or perhaps because of it, had earned himself a dark reprisal but not verbal retort, which was a rather solid verdict. If Dion did not feel some kind of commonality with Sugar for their tastes, he was still of the opinion that his gaggle of boys should think better than to berate anyone he was walking with. It was so rarely he'd take the corridors hand in hand. Not even Poppy or Phaedra would see such familiarity.

"I'll have you know it is splendid, my cock." he said and looked at their hands again when her's saw about early release. An adorable notion. Sugar was strong and larger than life, maybe, but not in this sense. It was also impossible that he let her go before he was satisfied. He was becoming fond of her disapproving look. "Then I will wait for Danny excitedly." he declared at the tail of her information. It was comfortable to speak so openly about a world he'd denied for so long. It had not been a lie, either. Though his body was still strong from yesterday, his soul and tongue were famished for more.

She was a lovely spectacle in the light. Her angularity was actually very flattering to her, from the details that were not obliterated by this marriage to the mostly unfiltered sun. Her confusion was a nice compliment to it all and he enjoyed it like he would during any courtship. So he shrugged as though he knew everything and made his lips small, favoring one side, as though she wanted to know everything, too. "Aren't you peckish?" he replied, but realized he'd unintentionally been too open with his meaning. He supposed he didn't mind that kind of thing, either, despite Armand's warning. "Nothing filling, just something for the taste buds." he suggested and then looked her over as though she was built of samples. With his new and old cravings, wasn't everyone? How was Sugar in matters of the flesh, if the matter wasn't exclusively eating? Was she a ravenous lover, too? Maybe that would be too obvious. All those considerations were plain on his face.

It wasn't a complete loss of confidence that bent his gait and turned his torso when he saw his friend and maid. Bolstering and that other persona simply had no real place when he was being honest with Phae, and when surprised, he was either that, or incredibly unpleasant. It was a subtle change in terms of energy expenditure, but a theatrical shift in cadence for Sugar to see. He smiled at Phaedra as she passed and almost promised he'd see her at home later. He remembered their new roles and the last things he'd said to hurt his own image. Right now he wanted to take it back, but thought better of it. "It is good to see you never left." What a disgraceful combination of words. She was gone too soon for him to hope to mend it.

When his eyes, Poppy's eyes in this brightness, rolled back to Sugar, they were a little harder. It might be a joke, though, pointing out that the passing woman was exactly someone the ivory shadow was not allowed to fraternize with. It really did bother him that she'd been Phaedra's first. He should have been thinking that Phaedra should have none at all, instead.

"How do you usually get through the day, Sugar?" he asked. "Without revealing yourself?" Perhaps he was of especially poor restraint. It could be as it is with any evil person, that he'd simply found his favorite sin - it had to be a sin, the way he practiced it - and loved it more than morality or other people. He studied her then, looming over her to see her in a few different ways. She was the most interesting when his body gave her shade, but she was the most beautiful when her buckwheat honey eyes floated by themselves as the day rays magicked her skin away. "I think it's hard." he admitted and sighed with complete honesty.

Dion was actually more invested in her answer than he let on. As a leader of the boys hungry to prove their cruelty, and thereby loyalty, he'd been expected to weed out suitable targets. His hunting grounds had been gym hour. What a glorious program this school had. Dion would trip friends during soccer, or move with the running girls to set them out of balance in a way a crush can, to see them fall and scrape up their perfect skin, so he could see who's eyes would flare, or who'd look away reluctantly. That was his next class. He wasn't sure accidents like that would be amusing to him anymore. They'd be beautiful.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #71 on: April 26, 2017, 05:52:22 pm »
Sugar sighed when she seemed to catch his meaning; an uncharacteristically naïve sort of reaction out of the white snake that had coiled so purposefully around his Phaedra just the night before. She shook her head. “You have no self-control.” She said bluntly. “Predators are stupid when they frenzy, you know. Sharks and shit.” Sugar suggested. She reached to touch her collarbone, a fine and delicate ridge glimpsed through the open buttons of her uniform shirt. “I don’t really trust stupid.”

She was quiet when Phaedra appeared. He’d not eaten her up then. For her part, Phaedra had flinched a little at Dion’s response. Not that she’d expected an apology or wanted one, nor had she expected some sudden erasure of the tangle they’d snared. Still, it felt like he was trying to remind her that he’d changed in ways she hadn’t been able to keep up with. That Poppy was close behind. That Phaedra was not in his world and couldn’t be now. He’d rejected what she’d had to offer, at least verbally. Or had he forgotten? Phae’s steps seemed loud as she disappeared down the steps.

“Ah.” Sugar said, when Phae had gone. “You’re a strange one.” She thrust her hands upward, arching her spine to stretch. Her shirt hiked high to expose the pale flesh above her skirt’s waist band. “Anyway, you haven’t figure out how to ask for permission yet, so I’m not in the mood to play your games.” She said, letting her arms drop and shrugging. “Maybe someday, if you’re ever less of a brat.” It sounded oddly affectionate. Or, at least, it didn’t sound like she found him totally uninteresting.

A yawn, wad of pink bubblegum balance on her pink tongue. “You make it sound like I try to hide myself.” She answered him. If he thought about it, he should realize she had a point. Dulcinea had a reputation that she’d never denied. That’s why she’d never been bullied, really. She was too uncomfortable for polite society, even when it was ugly. Dulcinea was much better to ignore. “Honestly, it’s easiest when you don’t care. Stop trying.” She paused and looked, for a brief moment, genuinely sympathetic. “Maybe not for you. Your family name comes with some expectations, I guess. You’re probably supposed to be more like your sister, right? So, maybe I don’t have good advice.”

There was a harder glint to her ocher eyes then. “Of course, it doesn’t help that you built a kingdom in this school on beating down every ghost of the hunger.” She tipped her chin so that she was staring at the ceiling. “Well. Whatever. It’s more like sex and less like a drug, if that makes you feel any better.” She said.

“Can’t get enough after your first time… all that shit you keep repressed until your hormones win out and the floodgates open.” Sugar laughed. “And then it stays good, but you’re not a slave to it after a while… you probably crave it, now that you know, but you’re in charge. Otherwise, you’re just gross and depraved,” she hummed. “And really, it’s better to get your shit together. Nobody wants to get adventurous with some kid that can’t handle himself.” She smirked. “On the other hand, once you’re good, people beg, right?” There was something to the way she said it and glanced in the direction Phaedra had gone. “Everyone is a little hungry, one way or another.”

--

Poppy wasn’t at school. She’d talked with Phaedra about what had happened last night, before she’d shown up at the city apartment door. Phae had been light on the details, but that was more than enough for Poppy. She could guess at what was in the gaps. Importantly, she’d gotten the phrase “Fox Den” out of Phaedra. Now, she was in the woods propped up against her rich kid’s Rover staring at Danny and his piece of shit on wheels.

“You’re Danny, right?” She asked. Danny was looking at her funny. That girl reminded him an awful lot of Deerest. The thought made him glance back at the trailer behind him. That kid’s purchase was inside, bound and gagged. Druggy, but her skin was still good and she had long eyelashes and freckles on her nose. She was better than most people got.

“That’s what they tell me, yea.” Danny replied. Poppy folded her arms across her chest.

“Let’s say I know your business and I have some questions.” She said. Straight to the point, as usual. “I want information. I don’t care about what’s in that trailer. I don’t want to know, actually, so you can stop acting shifty.” She said. She might have cared more, if she’d known whose goods were inside. Danny chuckled and pulled at his beard.

“Feisty.” He said. Poppy narrowed her eyes. “I mean, alright Lady, kind of depends on what you’re asking.” Danny scowled. Kids these days.

“Tell me what a Fox Den is. Tell me who’s behind them.” Poppy said. Danny laughed.

“Ah, shit. Little Lady, you don’t want to know that any more than you want to know about what’s in that trailer.” He said. Hard stare. Like Sugar, Danny didn’t really have to hide. That face said he knew Poppy wouldn’t cause him trouble either way—if she did, she’d be next in the trailer.

Poppy stood up straight. “I’ll make it worth your while. Name your price.”   

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #72 on: April 27, 2017, 08:49:49 am »
She was right. He only ever indulged in controlling himself when he clearly saw its use for contentment. He played games for other satisfactions. This blooded call was new, so he'd not formed a relationship with it more than a drowning would the water in their lungs. Eventually, maybe he'd try to be a mermaid like Sugar. Sharks and shit. "Stupid still has feelings." he reminded, as though she'd given him a profound insult, and her assessments mattered deeply to him.

And there stupid had to stand, while Phae flitted by as fae flit by. His old life in her pressed uniform, still lingering around the new carcass he'd become, bustling with other things in his whirlwind autopsy for everyone to see. Decay in his hair and rot in his eyes, from a trip to the forest, a walnut shell, a crimson banquet and a game of truth and dare. He wanted to go back for Phaedra, because he didn't want her submerged with him. In the sure hammering of her heels, as they became quieter, he heard his own longing for a Dionysus that had never been Deerest.

To comfort him, or so he would accept it, Sugar danced for him to the everyday rythm she found, filtered through her own unschackled impulses. She was free in a pleasing way. A promise too, with exclusive skin framed in the used clothes that was her trademark, here, at school. All maybes were his, he'd been taught. Everyone wanted him to beg, was how he heard it, even the girl that had just come and gone, leaving her safe heart and innocence in the air. Ask for forgiveness, Dion, ask for permission. He was going to learn it, how else could he survive, but he wanted to be a bastard in this new age he was coming upon, like all children are. If his lips were red from nonconsensual blood when he blinked into autonomy and maturity one day, wouldn't he want to have acted out? All real conformity comes from a base of satisfaction. Mother had explained to him that he was responsible for his own morals, if his tongue was so sharp, since he'd not always find someone to convince him of the right thing. Her premise stood on a theory of his good heart. "I'll look foward to that, then." to when I am the right amount of brat.

Her answer pleased him. That was how he wanted to live. He was loosing the ivory levels where he'd grown up. He wanted it to be for something beautiful, like his beastly self. She reminded him quickly that he might still want to remember the life he was letting go of, that perhaps her advice was not for him. Couldn't he be both? Clean and tailored, grimy and full. Ah, but he knew what people thought of that. If jealousy was a mist arond him, always, before, then it would be a casket now. Secrecy, in everything. " Maybe I will be more open about this." He gave.

He laughed, amused at his own hipocricy from her mouth. "You insolent little whore." he rewarded, for her honesty. Yes, he'd done that. And he still felt all those weak gullets he'd exposed and triggered to their own cravings were lesser people. How he'd mixed them up until they snapped at other limbs. There had to be quality in those with hunger, too. He was high up, he knew. His head tilted, and he'd moved closer to her, watching her and her idioscynracies and listening to her explain his current existance with something he understood.

He would adore to weild this like he did the other, better promoted chemical draw. Another industry, wans't it? He should have seen it. The thought of control - like pulling their hair and throwing them aside to have them come back, pleading - made him weak with imagined frustration. "So I need to be less to have more." he tasted the concept on his lips and swallowed it slowly, painfully. "Ah, what a Burden." he complained and reached out for her suddenly, claw hand stopping by her cheek, never touching. "May I?" he asked, and would only dress the side of her face in his palm, lover-like. He’d smile like he’d proven himself, then.


"I don't like it much, but I like widening my options." better to have many willing lovers than to have only the ones you hold down hard enough. It should tell her what kind of desires he usually wrestled with. To his defense, not all of the ones that struggled did it because they hoped to get free, and none of them told on Dionysus. Rough boy with soft skin. "It's not that I don't think I'd be formidable if I was polite, Excuse me miss, may I tak your hand, I am sorry sir, my familly took your land, but I never thought I should have to." because Sugar wasn't dear to him, she could be paper, like her skin suggested, bleached, where he could write and erase his confessions. "There are people in your life, I assume, that you allow certain freedoms you keep reserved from others. Or are you motherless? I guess I don’t know about you. Just imagine a common family unit." he shrugged and raised the lapel of his jacket and stuck his hands in his pockets in such a fluent and factly manner she would know he'd done it regularly for a long time. Comfort or twitch. "I could be that to anyone, right?" Some things are larger than protests by design.

Dion leaned in and pressed his shoulder to hers, to make her follow him as he started walking again. They were late for the next class, so the corridor was rather private. The few that did wander passed did notice the pair more accutely, though. "But I suppose I'm not, yet, and I'll make corrections to earn the decadence I deserve." But he was already thinking about the hazing gauntlet, where individuals newer to this than him wouldn't know to say no. In many cases, he could have the ones that weren't even afflicted. Money and position sew mouths shut. "To be honest, Sugar, I might have been wrong to leave this place." At least he could tell her. A throwaway thing, this conversation. It made Sugar so charming to him, suddenly. "It's like you say, comparing it to fucking. This is my kingdom, whether I want to be kind or a sopping glutton." A little smile at the thought, happy but mild, as though he was picking out colors for fabrics in his next suit.

“You weren’t always this apex thing.” He stated and looked at her. If she’d come along, and didn’t keep him standing there, while her habits and motions unfolded into another chapter of careless being, they’d be headed for the connection to the gym, in which case she would be an apparition between the windows. “Your… wisdom came step by step, too, no matter how steep the steps. How was it for you?” he asked and spotted a girl who’s plum lower lip and champagne breath he could remember. She saw him first and smiled, as people at the door do, but then she discovered Sugar, which frowned the lower petal. Dion flicked her eye on his way and it came with a shrill sound and then crying as the girl fell down on her knees, nursing her socket. He put his hand back in his pocket. The eye had been denser than he’d thought it would be. She’d be pretty again in an hour or two, he estimated. He was trying to be familiar with Sugar, it would seem. Perhaps this was the beginning of a friendship. “I would like to know if I’m doing well or if I’m doing exceptionally.” Then again, he was still a boy born with a crown.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #73 on: May 02, 2017, 07:38:04 pm »
Danny stared at her hard and let the silence stretch between them. Poppy was steady. Green eyes, clear intentions. Finally, he let out a laugh like a wild dog’s bark and shrugged. “I mean, sure, whatever. I’ll tell you what you want to know. Or, what I know, at least.” He pulled out a cigarette and offered one in her direction. Poppy didn’t smoke, but she took one anyway. “You don’t have to pay. I’m not the kind of guy to accept money for getting a girl in trouble.” He said. He laughed at that too, and Poppy stared past him at the trailer. It was probably a joke, but she hoped it wasn’t.

“Okay. Tell me about the Fox Dens.” Poppy repeated. Danny nodded.

“They’re safe houses, sort of. Spaces for people to indulge. They hide in plain sight, like the mob. Hungry people are no better than sharks when there’s blood in the water, so it’s not like anybody who knows would go in unless they wanted to be there.” Danny lit his cigarette, and passed Poppy the lighter. “That’s to say that you shouldn’t go looking unless you’re ready for what you’ll find inside.” Poppy wondered what Phaedra had seen and what it meant that her friend hadn’t told her. “The host of all those spots is kind of an enigma. He’s a modern myth in the city, honestly. Some people claim to know him or to have seen him, but nobody knows if he’s ever even been to one of his own parties.” Danny shrugged.

“Nobody knows?” Poppy asked. That seemed unlikely, but Danny nodded and stuck to his story.

“We all just call him the Fox King. Honestly, he might not even exist. But religions need gods and he’s the center of the community in the city. People that fall in far enough end up in the Dens so they don’t have to be alone—and there you’re very not alone. Let loose. Go wild. Make friends. Or not.” Danny took a long drag and then pulled a wrinkled receipt out of his pocket. “You got a pen?” he asked.

--

Sugar did not seem impressed, staring at him as his hand hovered beside her cheek. “You may.” She said after a second longer than necessary. When he looked pleased with himself, she rolled her eyes. It was strangely childish of them both, really. “I don’t really care what you like, but I presume you’re at least bright enough to have figured that out.” She answered him. If he saw himself as a gift, she had severe reservations.

He had a point, she supposed. In the way that rich blood could make points out of anything, really. Sugar didn’t have that luxury by birth, but she’d made it far enough on the quality of her muscle. Danny was candid about it, to those who asked—and enough did, curious about the strange faded thing that ghosted around like self-imposed royalty.

If Hunger was an addiction, Sugar was a gateway drug… or maybe it was the other way around. Enough mouths had fallen to her like she was some bloody prophet. Her blood was sweeter, her skin softer. The muscle on her bones was gourmet. And maybe she took your finger or left a hole over your ribcage, but she always had more to give the next go ‘round. She scarred, but she also healed. A little white witch peddling treats for praise. Maybe it was real, maybe it wasn’t. It was hard to parse out whether she was special or she’d just risen to the heights of commanding herd mentality. She seemed to get bored with it, though. Dion wasn’t as new as he might have felt. She disliked him, but that was why she humored him. A challenge to her ego and she cultured both sadism and masochism in spades.

“I’m motherless.” Sugar took the option deftly and it wasn’t entirely true. “So I reserve what I like for whomever I like.” She said. Coquettish when it struck her, it seemed. Sugar followed along by the pressure of his shoulder without any particular resistance. It seemed like she didn’t hate his company. So, maybe that was something in her mind. Gracing him with her compliance.

“Nobody really deserves decadence. They just earn it anyway.” Sugar told him with a sidelong glance. “Rules are constructs. They’re worth following to get what you want. It doesn’t make you any better, it just means you know how to flatter.” She said. Her mentality in a nutshell, then. She wasn’t so hard to understand and she didn’t pretend to be. Sugar was just Sugar, Dulcinea or otherwise. There was no separation.

She laughed at him when he pried at her genesis. “Royalty is born, whether it realizes it or not,” she said, and it was very possible she was mocking him. A joke, then. Like they could be friends if he could learn her or cared to. It was apparent she wasn’t the type to judge what motivated him. Sugar did not pause, rather, Sugar did not seem to notice when Dion impressed that small violence on the other girl. If it had been on her behalf, she did not seem to realize it. But that girl was not him and Sugar didn’t trace connections here and there. Sugar was the center of her own universe. If Dion was presently in her orbit, that was fine. What orbited Dion was minutia. “Really, I guess it’s like that saying? Necessity is the mother of invention?” She shrugged. “Or something like that. I think I was always Hungry.”

Sugar held her hand out in front of her, light from the window tracing purple streams beneath her skin. “And that kind of thing is better when you’re not alone. Like fucking, as you say, again.” She had fed and was fed and learned to be special. Now she taught other people to see it in her. That was all. “It’s not really wisdom. Just practicality, to make other people want you. But, you know that, right? It’s not hard to be above people, then. You know that too.” She laughed and gave him a peculiar look. It was fine for him to find his way to the top, it seemed. She just intended to see him struggle to rise above her. For fun, maybe.   

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #74 on: May 03, 2017, 12:52:21 pm »
Dion liked the feel of her skin, certainly, when she allowed it. He understood she was a delicacy, then. Something to aspire to. Of course, there was the dream of simply forcing himself on her too. It was an impulse Danny and Sugar and anyone who had become involved in Dion’s development ought to diffuse. Or he would grow into a monster unfit for their garden of beasts. He was intently quiet for the amount of time it would have taken him to say I See when she admitted with his word that she was a child without maternal anchor. How lovely, to hear Dulcinea utter it. He should try to make her say it again, sometime.

He could agree when she presented a theorem akin to his inclination to climbing social structures. “So practical.” It was both congratulatory for probably getting what she wanted often, and an insult, because for lovely things to be fine to him, they must have the flaw of sentimentality. Sugar might hear it, or she might not, or she might and ignore it – he was sure the result would look the same.

The answer that came about her story, the preface to her current self, was as elusive as it was satisfying. Practical girl, maybe, but those were flouncy words to respond with. Always hungry. “I like you more for that.” He turned to her fully while still waking, then. Budding lad, attending to his crush, for anyone that saw them. Dion always thought his approval was like rubies for the poor. Sugar liked other reds, of course. He was reminded of his own new taste for other riches when the sunlight invaded her hand, and let him know she had sapphire wealth underneath her alabaster outer. It made him want her like he wanted good things. It was not as debase as the girl in the RV. Like eating a rose. He reached for it with his own hand, “May…” he was about to ask, but then smiled and pulled his fingers back. She was impressive, but he wasn’t sure he should commit to something as advanced as Sugar, yet. Can’t have foie gras between breakfast and lunch. He was tried on his willingness to follow that rule when she looked so delicate in the day.

“I’ll make people want me.” He said and touched his own cheekbone. “It’s been happening for a while, anyway.” Vanity, assurance – he was made from these things. Sometimes the children in the pit snapped their teeth at him. He’d taken it as a compliment then, too. The pair came to the corridor which had to finalize his decision to attend the world of running, a sweaty place ruled by the man with the whistle. He would go, but didn’t know if she would, so he stopped at the large mouth that would lead him to a chasm of tile and metal boxes – an arena for his cruel games – only to expel him to the busy outside, later.

“Sugar. Do you hold everything as dear as the hunger? Or is it particular to you. You’ve revealed yourself to be practical, so I think I should assume you’re like that with anything.” It was odd, all of that, but he continued. “Again, with fucking, would it be completely like the hunger to you?” good thing no one was there to hear, right then. “Or are some things closer to your delicious heart while others have lower moral consideration? Like my comfort is paramount to me, but other’s don’t concern me, overly.” He was being kind, seemingly, maybe adorable the way he looked ruffled but spoke on his toes and hands behind his back. He might have looked like a Victorian suitor, with too much adoration in him to be entirely proper. It was morbid, though, and not at all handsome in the conventional way, that he was basically asking her if it would be the greatest transgression to force himself on her whenever he decided to do so, or if a greater wrong would be taking flesh with his teeth. In the end, he was asking her if the lust for one fleshward thing could be lesser punished if pursued than another. Some girls guard their intimacy less than their blood.

-

And the receipt would take Poppy to a particular place. The movement would know it as a boutique for their cravings. Yesterday, as all successful hole-in-the-walls, it had hosted a soiree for it familiars. The better furniture and the hiding places had been evacuated to give patrons space to frolic. Before the cleaning, the rooms were now a wasteland of tell-tale splatters and vacant hearts. Among the victims of passion, there was a boy named Irus. He was a high son of some wealthy entity, a last name that should awaken awe, but here he was dirty with his own spill. He felt low, clutching his arm that was as bare as his chest. In the fray, he’d kept his jeans on.

“Here, have some.” Dae said to Irus, and Irus looked his blue eyes up. Dae had the shoulders of a tree, greedy for the sun and the waist of a neglected stem. It was all told subtly through the ragged hoodie, black, once. Irus looked into the hollow of the hood and then at the bucked with the spoon in it. Wasn’t this enough like a war, with his brethren moaning around him, and the dried, real life throwing copper spirit into the air? Dae got down on his knees and there were yellow eyes in the darkness in the night crown of the tree. “Do you want forgiveness, Irus? Or do you want relief?” he asked.

“I want to not have done yesterday. I feel guilty.” But it was not such a heavy confession from parched lips, crusted with Emilia, who was still alive, somewhere. Dae laughed and when the face moved, some daylight revealed sharp features and an absurdly red mouth.

“For what, Irus? You weren’t you. You were being worn by something, and even then your actions were beautiful. A painter doesn’t ask to null the result of his sacred inspiration.” Dae explained as he took the hand off the wound on Irus’s arm. “Don’t you think what you’re feeling is a new element, eager to rise from the ground to play in our times?” he continued as he took a spoon of the water and poured it over the prints of teeth left on Irus’s skin. Irus thought it felt like a cold, welcome drug, numbing and tingling and soft. “Oh, you like it? I have an angel, she’s just like you, but when she eats and someone eats of her, she heals. It’s because of her salts, that she produces from her eyes. It’s a favor that I take the crystal clusters from her, and then, when it’s in water, it can help other angles like you, Irus.”

Irus felt a surge of energy and saw the shape of incisor cuts shrink until they were only smarting, red stars. “Are you the king?” he asked, and sat up straight against the wall, trying to see into the hood. If so, this was monumental. “Are you the Fox?” But Dae was moving on to Emilia, pouring water on her thigh with a high scoop. She’d not kept her jeans on.

“I am caretaker of the element here in our city.” Dae said as Emily moaned in relief.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #75 on: May 04, 2017, 04:38:45 am »
Sugar yawned and covered her mouth in a polite gesture that seemed wasted on a creature like her. It suited, in that way. “There are a lot of ways to be wanted.” She said. That made sense from the always Hungry girl. She wanted to eat and be eaten. Not everyone traveled the same road. She had often felt it was enlightened of her to do so. With that sense, she was resistant to sharing with just anyone. The languid she slipped into now was a noticeable defense. She wasn’t deterring his ambitions, but she wasn’t going to encourage them either. Another player on the stage and that was all she was willing to acknowledge, for now. He had a better back story than most, at least.

“Do you know when you first felt Hungry?” she asked suddenly. The first thing she’d seemed to care about knowing. Sugar without a mother, who’d been happy to say she’d always craved the meats of mankind, might have wondered if there was some common thread between them. She wasn’t sure if she’d dislike him more or less for his answer. If he’d known for long and tortured the pitiful starving still, it was both godlike and terrible. That was insulting, but she’d never minded being insulted like that. If he’d just blossomed, it made him disgustingly ambitious.

He had his questions too, more of them, and the corners of her lips curled impishly at the mouth of the gymnasium. “You have this weird idea that the two are different to me.” She said. It was maybe a little sad. But Dulcinea had no suitors in this town. Sugar hadn’t many whose slobbering mouths could keep from snapping. Certainly, there had been the sweet souls who had thought to contain themselves. Thought, perhaps, that Sugar could be loved without knowing the taste. They had been wrong, because no sweet soul had been forced to learn real restraint. The goodness of their abysmal hearts had carried them into the guilty throes of blood and sinew and not realized they’d never really known asceticism. 

“If I met the sort that could fuck without their teeth, maybe I could tell you whether or not I cared.” Sugar told him with a shrug and an arch to her brows that said she did not count him among that ‘sort.’ It was probably a fair assessment, or at least a fair assumption. She waved off the misplaced eager he had in his toes and turned away from him, thumbs hooked into the waist of her skirt. “I suppose I’ll see you around, Deer.” She said. Dulcinea was not a frequent participant in gym classes.

--

Poppy stood outside with the crumpled paper in her hand and a hard set to her lips. She’d been very sure of herself, driving into the city. Now that she was here, she wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted to do about it. It had been easy to go after Phae and Dion by moonlight, when her reflection had seemed grittier and she’d been knocking on her own family’s door. Danny had said this was supposed to be the sort of place bloody socialites went. That meant that anybody who cared to the Fox King should drift through.

She took a deep breath and rapped on the door.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #76 on: May 04, 2017, 03:25:03 pm »
First hunger. He remembered it every time he smelt Poppy’s hair. Their secret bonding. Or maybe it was the flowers he’d pressed into their bodies, Phae and sister, until the pollen perfume mingled with the iron aroma into adolescent confusion. He was being incredibly forthright with Sugar, so the truth of those thoughts flitted over the valley of his tongue before he caught it. Hah. That wasn’t his truth to give away, not the one he’d shared with Poppy at least. The flowers, then. “I used to put bouquets on my girls. Rich boy like me, and I still liked wild flowers the most. I thought the patterns were beautiful.” He shrugged at how barbaric it was, to how he was supposed to live his life, Riviera, sunlit wine. “Started arranging the lilies to flow in falls down their chest and small white things pouring out their temples and ears. They were sleeping.” He shrugged. “Once I tied a wreath too tight around her leg.” He nodded in the direction Phaedra had gone. “I thought it looked like fruit. That was years ago.” A wide gesture, one arm, as though he could slap implications out of their shared atmosphere. “Suppose I broke arms and scraped up new kids for that, eventually. Sigmund’s story, oldest story there is, all that. ” He looked her over. What made her? “And you? Or were you born with little fangs out of a farm animal?” wouldn’t that be something? Some talked about gifts among the hungry. People of Dion’s echelon hated that legend specifically.

He quite liked the first part of her answer, and his neck elongated as thought he was offering both. They’d vibrated into one for him, too, in his dreams, but he had to assume all  gourmet things could. As revenge for their general annoying existence, he’d tumbled with boy’s girls, and those were two satisfactions at once, if he thought about it. Revenge is best served inside.

“What if I wear a mask over my mouth?” he asked when she left. It was an endearing call, like some kind of proclamation of love. Then he would have to be a child playing at man, and she would be his targeted maybe-woman. They were not that sweet, even if the hunger and lust were interchangeable. Dion was a snob and because he was, she’d have to be filth. And Dulcinea was almighty, while he was just a brat. Before their fates took them, would any of these things be overcome? He clucked his overflowing tongue and waved her off, as though to shut her up, even if she was already leaving.

See him around. What a charming way to say that. “If you’re good, good things will come to you, yeah.” He agreed and winked, if she turned.

He was out in the sun soon, titan with overlong limbs in the school casual uniform for physical activities. Ambitious with the sleeveless top, meant for indoors sports. People around were not complaining. Before now, lately, he’d started to loathe gym. What chance was there to hide mother’s antlers if he ran as fast as he should? But now he’d feel empowered flashing the white lines. Like the prince he fancied himself, he started stretching, even if he was late. The teacher acted accordingly, placating the behavior, and said nothing. A pedagogue of pedigree, perhaps, but he’d been taught his place enough times not to push with the shiniest families.

Dion didn’t lend an eye to the whistle man. He looked through the daylight at the bodies trying to earn good grades, to see if there was anything to entertain him before lunch. It was a new scope, a new filter. Ah. How miserable it must have been to be hazed, with all this delectable game out. He snickered as he went into a jog. Perhaps avoiding this way of life had been a mistake, with morning flowing down shoulders and sugaring complexions, this was more decadent than any table he’d seen set. He had a feeling he’d be a particular rascal, today.

-

The sound turned him, and some of the elixir spilled outside of Emily. She complained with her dry throat and Dae bent down to give her the bucket and the spoon. He looked at the liquid as though she expected something other than clear water in its depth. That curiosity wouldn’t last. Irus was already crawling toward her, too. Both angels would be soaked soon.

He might not seem fantastical, rather frightening in a low-brow manner, instead, when his shadowed head came into her view, in the glass she had drummed. Still vibrating, the transparent pane blurred him into a forming demon, but clamed into just another man hiding. Ominous, which was accurate. With a switch in his posture as he undid the lock, they were closed to put things back as they were, after all, his jaw and mouth were revealed. Brushed in black hair, barely. And a smile.

“Hey.” He said. She looked new. Heavy potential but it wasn’t released. She had a tension where relief of sampling should be, and she was comfortable in a way most hungry weren’t. Reassured, though, like her clothes weren’t enough to tell him that much. “We’re closed,” but the door opened wide. His Element was in her. “there’s better places to start, if you’re eager.” So far he could be just another servant. “or do you need something else?” Hardness about her pretty. He was sure that usually got her what she wanted.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #77 on: May 05, 2017, 12:17:55 am »
She looked started when the door swung wide, like she hadn’t planned that far. At least, she hadn’t planned for the sort of disarming face that stared back now. He wasn’t handsome, exactly—or she couldn’t tell with the way he sunk into the dark of his hood. It was kind of cheap, that style, but she’d known Dion to humor it when he felt like sulking. Poppy stood up straighter. Yellow eyes and green eyes, too many jewels for a city sun. A neat blouse and a sweater. “Hello,” she said to be polite as her first course. Poppy didn’t have time to think too far ahead. Not when he was so pointed. She had the acumen to look offended though, because that was her second nature.

“Eager?” she echoed, like she hadn’t caught his meaning in his posture and the smell in the air. “I’m eager to find who I’m looking for, I guess. I hear this might be the best place. I don’t know about the rest.” She said. Which was to say she didn’t want to hear about the rest. Would her mouth water if she did? The curl of her lips said she’d bite out her own tongue before she let it wet for barbaric iron. That was a lot of grand posturing for the girl who’d all but lost herself over her brother’s salts.

She brought a curled fist before her lips and cleared her throat. “I’ll try not to waste your time. I’m looking for anybody who has word on the, uhm, Fox King… I believe they call him…” she trailed off, staring past him like she’d not gone looking for that name. Ironic, when she was adhering to the sensibilities of someone who’d not run in circles that whispered about the Fox. Poppy inclined her head, pandering gesture, and gave him a flattering smile. She expected him to help her, if he could.

“I have a personal interest in urban legends.” She said. Poppy shifted so it was clear her feet were planted. “So, if there are better places, as you say, would you mind pointing me in the right direction?” she asked. It was a peculiar way of asking questions, sweet but indominable. It was best if you wanted to help her, but it was okay if you didn’t. Poppy didn’t wear their family’s wealth the way Dion did, in swagger and fists, but she led it behind her like an entourage she’d become too familiar with to notice. That kind of nonchalance was too comfortable to be contrived. She would move what she wished when it was convenient, same as checking the time. Regardless, it was still just a spoiled girl demanding answers she had no right to.  She folded her arms across her chest and tipped up her chin because she knew.

--

Sugar didn’t turn for him or acknowledge what was, she supposed, some odd form of teasing. She did laugh though, like that was gracious enough, as she disappeared back down the brightly lit hall. She had intentions of creeping into the library to sleep through the next two class periods and had made it nearly to her usual place when she was stopped by a familiar voice. It made her smile, wolfish.

“Dulcinea, right?” Phaedra called after her, quiet because the literary archive demanded it. “Can we talk?” she asked. Sugar turned. Phae had that same determined look on her face as she’d had in the Den, Sugar could tell by the bright of her eyes, and she thought it was good to have seen that expression without the rabbit mask between.

“Oh dear, did your friend not tell you to be careful?” Sugar asked. It seemed unlikely that Deerest, who’d owned ‘possessive’ when she’d asked it, hadn’t thought to tell the little bunny to stay away. Sugar’s ocher stare flitted down the curve of Phae’s neck. It made Phaedra draw her hand over the covered scabs self-consciously.

“I am being careful. You’re too smart to cause trouble here.” Phaedra said. “And you don’t care enough about me to cause trouble later.” That made Sugar smile wider. Phae was not wrong.

“Brave bunny, either way.” Sugar countered. Phaedra shrugged.

“I have to learn things. I think you can teach me.” Phaedra said. Sugar blinked and pursed her lips. It was not the sort of encounter she’d anticipated. After a moment, she headed back toward her usual corner and waved Phae after her.

“Okay, I guess. I’m curious what that means, at least. I’ll listen. But your friend will get jealous if he sees us, you know.” Sugar said, settling down on the floor and tucking her knees to her chest. Phae folded delicately beside her.

“I want to know what it’s like, feeling the way you do. I want to know if it’s possible to be satisfied with one person.” Phaedra said. Sugar had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. How brash. Almost vulgar. It was endearing, honestly.

“Are you asking me if it’s ok to walk yourself to the slaughter?” Sugar giggled. Phaedra frowned.

“No, I think I’m asking if it’s worth it.” She said, and Sugar’s laughter died. Her red honey eyes were a little frightening then.

“You’re an idiot if you think there’s any worth in writing yourself into a tragedy.” She reached out to pull a little punitively at a lock of Phae’s long hair. “At least, so far as you won’t even enjoy it. So, unless you can learn that, I don’t see why he’d have any use for you. He’s fond of you in some way too, right?” Sugar said. Phaedra stared back at the pale girl and wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Can you teach me, or not?” Phae asked. “You said I could be a delicacy.”

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #78 on: May 05, 2017, 09:40:38 am »
Oh, she'd been quite successful, then. Only real brand names from their circles came here for the exclusive treats, which made the patrons few by design, the amount that knew to come here to search for the vapors of his legend were a further meager number. He'd orchestrated things this way, so he could be the last barrier. Determined girl, to have gone this far without at least being somewhat comfortable with her hunger. It of course made him interested in leading her. The Red Element could do great things through her, for her, he was certain.

"The Fox King." he tested. "Ridiculous name. King of red clever forest creatures? Sounds like an unruly kingdom. Or is the fox the ruler? As though monarchies don’t already have funny noses." and that was perhaps her first clue. Whether it be from appreciation or fear, it wasn't likely anyone in the body would speak of the illusive head like that. He turned to also look where she was peering, and could see better, of course, Irus's battlefield. At this distance it could all still be mistaken for drunkards and filth. An experimental paint job, perhaps. Dae turned back soon.

"I have heard the legend. It has to be accurate, a little, don't you think?" he said and moved so she could come in. If he'd been in the mood to help people like Danny, she would be in grave happenings, soon. This girl had to know that. He wasn't. Dae liked to perpetrate the blossoming for every facet of Hunger's life, but that didn't always mean feeding the existing mouths. Sometimes it meant bringing more sets of teeth in. What would she do? Trusting him seemed out of her nature, but ending her search with something that looked so closely to lack of courage seemed the same.

"Inside is even a better place to start." he replied. He was teasing, of course, willing to help her quest as long as she was being this pent up, and then perhaps help her try the receiving end of their Element, if she was overly rude. It was probably a good thing the sister had come instead of the brother.

”Do you have a habit of seeking out kings?” he asked, whether she’d come along or not. He was invested enough that he wouldn’t leave her where she was and forget her at the door if she was all too hesitant. It started as a joke, but he could very well imagine this visitor endeavoring climbing to the highest part of the tree as soon as she stepped onto the playground. He was inspired by her prim, and thought his usual, ragged incognito seemed inappropriate if he was to host someone like her. They would be walking now, passed the strewn out people and the thick memories of the banquet – or they would still be at his threshold, with heavy insistence in his gait that they should go in.

“Would you mind telling me what this is about?” he continued. He gave the air of being willing to submit to helping her anyway, if she did not. A trick of the powerful, perhaps, to be accommodating when they could. She was speaking to the highest god under Hunger, after all. “In return I’ll give you my name. We’re impolite, both of us, aren’t we?” A backroom with windows in the wall between. Open space, but still one level deeper, away from the safety of the street. “It’s Daedalus. Dae, to save your precious time, if you’re feeling familiar.” And what a fate the Element stood before, because of that. Maybe Dae thought some things are stronger than wax wings. Would this girl be? He found that he was unusually curious. She must have had at least a little sear to be here, but nothing she’d allowed to burn her, yet.

-

Dion was on one knee, looking at one of the newest girls to be accepted into the school. Late transfer, good sport. The sprain was nasty, and the blue with the violet intrigued him. Still, the hurt was soft and dry. He was thinking up ways to convince her to cut it and bleed it out. But this wasn’t war, they were not unfortunates out in the wilderness. More acutely, he was not someone she trusted yet. He was certain his position would have taken her confidence the last distance, if he pressed. She even stayed moderately still when he let his finger slide over the swelling. A handsome face will buy you certain accesses, always. And he was much more engaged when he thought about puncturing that orbed mark with his canines. Maybe she thought it was a look of sympathy. “Ah, this is nothing. Looks almost like a tattoo.” He said with a smile. I liked her lips. Plumb but small. “And just like one the swelling will be gone soon.” He tilted his head and thought he was being unfair in so many ways, then. To her for leaving her with this much charm, and to others for not giving it to them, too. How would any heart recover? “It’s better than dolphins or something tribal, isn’t it?”

“Do you like her?” Cas teased from behind. Both looked up at the brighter boy. He came down to throw an eye on her ankle, too. She was getting an awful lot of attention from the treasured males. Maybe this would be enough for her demise, if any of the ambitious girls saw. Caspian was also disappointed at the lack of blood. When he’d asked if she was Dion’s taste, he meant for the bloody trials, of course. The sprain made things interesting, but it was hardly anything indicting.

“She’s okay.” Dion replied and studied Cas, who seemed to play the role of a caring new classmate well.

“She will be.” Cas answered and finally waved the teacher over.

“Well, do you think you’ll be alright on your own or would like a piggy back ride?” Dion offered as the grown man came between them to check on the injury, now that he’d been allowed. Cas stood with the usual leader. Dion was already sweeping the field for others who would be interesting.

“Kinda need to speak about Armand. They’re not listening right now.” Cas warned. That caught Dion’s attention. He didn’t like insolence. Dependable Cas. Sweet boy. Sweet on Poppy, at least.

“Oh? Well. I guess he’s going to be rude today.” Dion muttered. Cas thought it was concerning when he saw the sinew on Dion’s backhand flex.

“You know Armand, more testosterone than anything else.” Jester. Wasn’t it Dion’s fault they all lived closer to their instincts?

“Let’s put his testies to the test, then.” Dion said with a light voice from hard teeth. “But that’s later, right?” The dressing room was the usual arena. It was not wise to go into the tiled coliseum without allies, but enough prizes had come Dion’s way lately that he thought it’d be alright this time, too. Right now, Dionysus would rather scour the grass for other delicious things.

The usually lighthearted Caspian had a knot in his stomach. He’d have to send a text to Poppy later. Surely she’d be her usual self, at least.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #79 on: May 08, 2017, 05:33:53 am »
It was a preposterously bold thing to say and further ridiculous because she said it to Sugar. Sugar was sure to wear the sort of expression that would let her know as much. When Phaedra did not seem moved by the curl of Sugar’s lip, or at least seemed to be stalwart enough to weather it, Sugar thought she could find the girl entertaining enough not to give a little time. She had tasted nice, too. Really, Phae was a bigger treat than Sugar would generally be inclined to admit. There was something exceptionally delicious about the fact the girl had come to her over Dionysus, even if Dion was her goal. Like a dog pissing on a post first.

“I can teach you, probably. If that kind of base appeal is what you’re sure you want.” Sugar said pragmatically. “It’s kind of a lot, isn’t it, to go this way? You’re not inclined toward it at all.” She said. It was easy enough to tell. Phaedra stared down at her toes.

“No, I’m not. I find it kind of frightening and barbaric.” She admitted. Sugar made a sound that might have been laughter. “But I can’t hate it, if it’s part of what Dion is.” She blurted. When she looked up, Sugar was smiling too wide. “I don’t care what you think, and I know you know about him.” Phaedra defended. Sugar nodded dismissively, but she was still smiling.

“Well, you aren’t the first person to come due to morbid curiosity, but I’ve never really messed with anybody who came in with your particular brand of self-importance.” Sugar inclined her head. “You realize that’s what it is, to love him like you’re doing. You’re being incredibly self-important.” Phaedra’s lips pulled into a thin line.

“I can’t help it. I know I’m not a saint. But nobody here is, right?” she said. If it was possible, Sugar smiled wider. Delusions were so much more convincing when hedged by a sensible dose of introspection. It was the best kind of excuse, knowing one’s self.

“I don’t care about saints or anything else. You can meet me by the old picnic tables after school.” Sugar said, and then she waved her off. Dulcinea wanted to nap.

--

Poppy shook her head, not because she disagreed with him but because she didn’t know. She said as much. “I guess I don’t care what the Fox King is, or what his actual name is. I just need to find the person connected with those rumors.” Poppy said. If it was a useful rumor, it had served its purpose. Dogged girl. She hesitated before she stepped inside, but she did move eventually. As he had suspected, it was too much to give up now. Poppy could frighten, but she wasn’t a coward.

She walked with the sort of self-assurance that said trust wasn’t an issue. Poppy would take care of herself. That was probably a foolish sentiment, but it had carried her far.

She sighed. “Look, it’s fine whatever you’re into. I’m not trying to cause trouble in particular. I’m just trying to find this Fox King because I need to have a chat. Nothing more, nothing less. Whatever else is going on, I don’t want to know.” Poppy said. It sounded so tidy. She smiled at him so he’d understand she wasn’t trying to be rude, just efficient. Still, the effect was a bit like she was brushing off a salesman. That was not, possibly, the most inappropriate reaction.

“So, if it’s possible, if you could just tell me what you know or point me toward somebody else who could offer information, I’d greatly appreciate it.” She said.

It became quickly apparent that the man would take her at his own pace. If it weren’t for the sense that he was cooperating, she might have begun to be annoyed. When he pried, she folded her arms across her chest. “I would just like to make an arrangement, that’s all.” She said. It was clear she had no desire to discuss her plans further. It wasn’t that they were all that secret, the things she wanted, but trying to blacklist Phae and her brother from the city circuit still meant putting their names where unsavory sorts would be prying. Poppy preferred to discuss the matter with the Fox King himself. It did not strike her as naïve to believe she could obtain the audience she demanded.

“Pleasure to meet you, Daedalus.” She said, because she was neither lazy nor his friend. “My name is Poppy Price.” And Poppy fully expected him to recognize precisely which Price she meant.

 

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #80 on: May 08, 2017, 12:35:24 pm »
Business minded girl. He supposed a blouse like that would not dress a reckless girl so well. He had many kits come this far with persistance. Sometimes they'd needlessly bribed themselves through the ranks, their two-way hunger and wayward ambition standing them at his door without some parts they'd started with. There were occasion he would reward these souls, as well. His guest today was not here to see an idol, hoping to exchange worship of the same urges. He was curious, walking her.

"Long way for a chat." Wherever you started. He smiled back, and even though the shadows continued to chew  most details that would give the expression away, the attitude of it carried through his shallow disguise. "You're practical." Which was fine. "That can be a bit cold." Which was not. He didn't have a punishment for cold, though. On one occasion he’d met someone completely empty except for the hunger. It had been beautiful and volatile. The pious had made a pit for him and were still known to throw themselves into it when their heads were filled with belief and their hearts with inspiration.

“I am.” Telling you, pointing you. Dea was not invested in personal pride more than it could be helpful for a voice to the Hunger. Sometimes a mouth that recites the law needs to have a steady tone. “Pleasure.” He replied and remembered her name soon, leading her up stairs cutting from lower left to high right on the farthest wall. “Price? The liquor mogul? You’re royalty in your own right, then.” he said as a door opened and more sunlight came in. A sanctum here, which reflected his personality more than he’d intended. He was also practical – a prophet ought to be – and so there was only a few pieces of furniture in the open space. A corner was tiled, the edges of the assembled ceramic converging like petals leave a flower head. If he held pride over an artful direction in his soul, his chest did not inflate for it.

He was done tasting her name and made a little huff as though he’d finished a thought too. It wasn’t dismissive, but it was final. “Your father isn’t really a friend of the Hunger.” And had been loud on the subject. There was that voice then, steady, like an animal that had lived before human time, and learnt their language so it could communicate with them before it ate them. “And I am suddenly inclined to give you exactly what you want.“ Her name had bought her into this circuit too, but perhaps not in the way she hoped. The hood came down with a tug, and black hair spilled from an overflowing, black crown. Curls over across and underneath his yellow eyes. Poppy Price wasn’t a threat to him, but he needed to put himself between her and the Hungry if she had unkind intentions.

“Fox King wasn’t my idea, but I think I would have fought it harder if I disliked it.” With the daylight, his irises bled into his sclera, and he smiled without teeth with the deeply blooden mouth. “King of red things.” Sometimes children just know. He’d let his beauty grow wild, free, and that was the kind of creature that stood before her now. A product of the city jungle. His hand traveled in an orbit around himself, circling his axis. She was allowed to stand or sit where she wanted her. The tile was clean of clues but bleach couldn’t very well take away the implication. Dae, however, wasn’t being threatening.

“Well, Ms. Price. What do you say? We’re chatting already, and it is not unpleasant.” Perhaps the elbow to his chest so that his palm could support his scruffy chin was not so harmless as he studied her, anymore. He did not try to intimidate. The Hunger stuck out of her like long, fine fibers. She wasn’t cattle, but she wasn’t feeding, either. How her father would fret if he knew. “There was talk of an arrangement? You have my attention.” He gave, coming closer to her from where he’d stood. How polished she was, and how primitive, he. It called for him to see the two of them close, just for the contrast. “I make arrangements all the time, when they’re beneficial.”

He wasn’t one to wet his tongue in the vice all too often, The Element did well here without his contribution in the pits, but he wondered how her restraint tasted, how it would feel to sample her shackles and try their durability. He was being accommodating now, and it presented as though he was always eager to give audience. Poppy might suspect by Danny’s tone that it wasn’t so, often.

-

Dion had not managed to find more for himself than a few potential souls for later. It was out of place to practice unhindered indulgence so openly, anyway. Was it too much to expect some mayhem and accidents, though? He could have lived off such entertainment through the day. Princely, he moved back, in the crowd but not with anyone in particular, toward the changing rooms. The light was as flattering as always, but many of the boys had a surplus of pretty in their youth, anyway. Dion was a picture, wearing the top only on his right arm as soon as he went through the doors. Lithe giant, come to the waterfalls.

He was reminded of Caspian’s warning when he rounded an empty isle of red boxes. Armand’s voice on the other side. The Price son grinned. The other boy was talking jolly for planning an ambush. Sweet Cas had probably been worried for nothing. Still, there was a matter of pride, too. Sugar didn’t care much about insults, but Dion had to. It was easy to locate the precise location of Armand on the other side. Dion easily stepped on the bench to climb over, like some ghost, growing out of nowhere. The listeners around Armand were aghast but it was too late to warn their friend as Dionysus ascended.

He meant to tear the other boy to the ground. Dionysus would boast a silent rage when he threatened new blood, and those that stood behind him knew the well it came from. So he was completely wild for an instance, felling the boy who’d been foul with his mouth. How intimate they became, Dion’s knees on either side of Armand’s torso. It was a comfortable seat, Dion though as he held Arman’s wrist down, too, even if Armand had kept his shirt on so far. “Hey, player.” He said and wondered how this windpipe might taste. “All this talk of eating cocks and here we are, your mouth primed for it.” Dion slid a little further up Armand’s chest but noticed the ring of others closing in. “Really!” he roared, spittle haling down on his capture’s face. He did not take insolence lightly. Even rabid he was better than any of them. “Are you all eager to get a mouthful too? You miss me that much?” he offered, Poppy’s green completely vacated from his otherwise black eyes. It was enough to push them back the steps they had advanced. He’d forgotten how satisfying their obedience was.

He turned back to the lying comrade, squeezing his wrist. Dion had to admit this was partially because he’d made Phaedra blush and fuss the other night, even if it hadn’t been Armand’s fault. Soon Dion’s thighs would be at level with Armand’s ears, shins pressing down on Armand’s arms, too, which meant there’d be contact between Dion’s shorts and Armand’s chin. Admittedly, this wasn’t looking bad. A lot like sex, Sugar had said. “What do you say now, rude boy? Are you still on the subject, or can we move on to where you’re quiet and respectful to whomever I choose to fraternize with?”

Caspian had seen this tiger before, it had even roared and clawed at them in the past, but this seemed a bit far, even for Dion. He held one arm out to keep back a friend. Caspian had to stay loyal, because of his heart in Poppy.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #81 on: May 12, 2017, 03:20:50 am »
Poppy nodded, though she was a few steps behind him. “The very same,” because she’d said her name so he’d know it. “My father came up with the name, changed it when the business was beginning to boom. Something about elegant simplicity and things people would remember.” She shrugged. An invented name and those ever-so-slightly-exotic features turned her into something more coherent with her search for the Fox King. Like she might just have been looking for more of her kind. That sort of sentiment would have been pretty to Phaedra but ridiculous to Poppy. She wanted to find nothing familiar in the sort of man that ruled the Dens.

She blinked in the brighter room. It was oddly tranquil, given the somewhat oppressive atmosphere he’d led her through. Poppy had done a decent job of not showing it, but she’d smelled the blood not long gone cold and saw through the haze the ghost of the previous evening. Poppy was good at filling in blanks. She had done it all the time for Phae and for Dion, most often correct and so staunch when she was wrong that it might as well have been the truth. Still, in this upper room and stillness, she looked a little more like a school girl under shafts of afternoon sunlight. “I would say that is putting it quite lightly,” her father had cast away his own son. His daughter had built a fortress around her tongue to protect the pride he’d raised in her. Still, it wasn’t bitter when she said it. Just factual. It was a reality she’d embraced. That was why she was here, after all.

Poppy was often the most striking thing in a room, her natural pretty and her presence demanded it. Today, she was not. Had he known her better, he might have been genuinely flattered when she was unable to silence the small, but sharp, intake of breath. He was lovely in a way she was not accustomed to and she thought, for the briefest moment, she could excuse the old hoody for the man who wore it. For the skeptic she was, she did not question the sincerity of his admission. If he was not the city’s Fox King, he’d certainly staked a claim as hers. “Daedalus the King,” she exhaled, and had recaptured her spark enough to say it with well-implied irony. “I suppose, rounded out like that, it’s kind of catchy.” She said. “You’re not as secretive as they make you out then?” she asked, because Poppy didn’t know the select group she’d been dropped into with his reveal.

“Well, anyway, I did have a proposition.” Poppy said. All business again, though he’d clearly caught her off guard. It was either remarkable or adorable, depending on how he’d appraised her. She took a seat for herself on a comfortably worn sofa. “I’ll be blunt, since you’ve been gracious enough to be forthright with me,” Poppy was not an unreasonable girl, when things were going well. “My brother has gotten—involved, let’s say, with all this.” She gestured in a way that was meant to imply all the Hunger and the Dens, his whole kingdom in a sweep of her thin arms. “Which has, in turn, started to drag a dear friend of mine into it too. Rather, she’s going places she shouldn’t and she hasn’t got a taste for…” Poppy frowned and set her hands in her lap, one on top of the other. She couldn’t say it, which probably meant she was closer to the edge than she’d admitted to herself.

“If you’re the King around here, you can blacklist a single boy, can’t you?” She asked. “If you keep my brother out, my friend won’t have a reason to be around either. He’s boorish, so he’ll find other ways to get his mouth dirty, but he doesn’t need another social ladder to climb. Not one like this.” Poppy sighed. She held her appearances poorly when it came to talking much about Dionysus. He was dearest to her, in the end. She smiled at Dae and it seemed a little apologetic. Whether for the lapse in composure or the request itself was debatable, though it rarely took much time with Poppy to guess at which was more likely.

“In exchange, well, there’s a lot of places a big business holds onto well after it’s out of use. And I have connections, in general. I’d be willing to try and come to some sort of agreement you’d find mutually beneficial if you’d be willing to keep Dionysus Price out of your Dens.” Poppy smoothed the fabric on her pants, nicely pleated. “It’s probably a poor way of doing it, but I want to drive my brother back home. And you have other mouths to feed. I’m sure I’ve got something at my disposal you’d find appealing.” A laugh. “It’s an unorthodox means of striking a bargain, but I’ve more or less come here asking you to name your price.” 



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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #82 on: May 12, 2017, 06:15:42 pm »
A father with a maiden name. What had they been, the peasant syllables that the Price head had shaken out of existence? Perhaps someone who would call himself Deadalus should not be so unfamiliar with a rebranding, even though he'd sooner say it was a redirection of existence. Mother and father had simply misinterpreted his name from the beginning. What am I, what is my name - they could be different concepts. Tiger, Shere Khan.

Poppy Price didn't keep herself with the kind of pride that couldn't see her family's misdeeds. Or she simply thought it was their right. Calmly she absorbed his note on her father's prosecution of the Hungry, something old man Price shared with almost anyone who wasn't Fox kin. Dae had already decided to step out of hiding for her, and it was pleasant to be appreciated by her hitch. His beauty wasn't news to him, but he wasn't just the caretaker of one sin, so he allowed some vanity to warm him when the favored guest approved. He didn't fraternize openly often, and her startle was everything anyone wanted from composed creatures like Poppy. "I'm sure it's not the first time someone makes an exception for you, Poppy Price." he said about his assumed secrecy. Porcelain things are fun to tease.

Deadalus listened , head at a tilt, like a likeness of stone standing in a forgotten garden, too long. A brother with teeth, a friend without. Poppy told a great story, a tribute to Hunger. There was much meat in the tale, but no bone and no marrow. He smiled softly but it was enough to break the statue stare. "Thank you for being direct." She'd suffered through his pleasantries too, though. "They sound like quite a pair, don't they? Dutiful friend, going where she wouldn't, for someone else's boorish brother." But Dae saw something more intriguing, sitting in the couch, with her hands in her lap. Maybe he could pry.

He came closer, and let the footfalls be light and lingering, the sound of contemplation, even though he'd made up his mind long ago. "I do scramble to find venues for our... indulgence.” he admitted. It was true here as it was in any city. To think the Red Spirit that would move their age had to play, in passing, by the rules set by demand of housing. His group was driven, voracious for space, so they found havens. A foot in with Price would make things easier. “It is actually a struggle for me.” He said, and held his own hands. The jest wasn’t malicious. He wanted to endear himself to her. “But a soul so lost into Hunger he drags another with him is precious too.” Would she hate to hear that? He was ambivalent about the friend but not the brother.

He sat down with her. Poppy was so closely wound to herself, and it was a daunting thing to a King who famously did not partake in the holidays he dictated. Perhaps he waited for instances like this, then, when circumstances and the morsel were fine. Not a hunt, or an agreement, but a dance, maybe. The distance between them was polite, where they sat, but the lack of others here made it private, inevitably. “You’re not being selfish, I don’t think, it’s a lovely thing between siblings, so I won’t say no to your generosity. Not with finality.” And despite his proclaimed modesty, the ragged clothes, the practical place to lay his head, his voice gave away that he thought he was being very reasonable. “But you want me to chase away this person when he is doing the right thing in a boorish way.” It could be hard to convince her of that. “So, how about you try his side of things?”

It could be a trick of the light, movement of the sun, but he would seem to have moved closer to her. “He’ll be chasing pockets, puddles of kindred, away from the acceptance my Dens offer. Why do you think I make these oases? My ambition is not to turn people away at the door. The Hunger is the next thing to happen to us.” Humans, not you and I. “It would be like telling him he’s wrong and we’re right, when we’re saying the same thing.” In truth, he should lead her out and thank her not to come back - not that he’d be here next time - but she spoke to him with her reds braided with her self-imposed chains. In fact, the carnivorous strain in her called for him like her ghost that wanted to haunt freely. Kill me, save me. “This is his society now, and he’ll be punished by our laws for being boorish before he’s ostracized.” He sighed, elbow on the couch’s back and hand on his cheek as he looked her over. It was another teasing game, said his red, curled lips. Oh, you’re so bothersome, Poppy. “My answer is a temporary no, instead, until you put yourself in his loafers, or wingtips, or whatever footwear the Price children choose.” Fire around her, and he counted the licks. Maybe he and she were the same, in this. “Would you do that for your brother and your friend?” To speak to her martyr. All prim things have a relationship with their Madonna.

“He’s just sensitive, a  gourmet.” Which implied perhaps she was not, yet. Dae hoped he wasn’t defending some outlandish person now. “There is reward in holding it back,” And he saw clearly Poppy was. “like a girl in the back you ignore every time she raises her hand. She frets quietly.” A confession, this, too. “But aren’t you tired of wondering what’s inside her mouth? What she’s thinking in her murky corner? With if her skirt is ragged under the tabletop, and her shoes are pointed outward?” Impossibly closer, and still not touching his leg to hers. He smelt like himself, through the well-used attire. No latin chemicals with French names. “If we live our lives measuring ourselves by the things we can live without, and we live successfully, aren’t our lives null?” he laughed softly, and she might know it was at her, but it was for her loveliness in her shackles. “Just a little living, Poppy, to see what all that restraint is worth.” Locales he could find, but not something as fettered as she.

-

Dion had earned himself a blemish. The black sun on his cheekbone was outlined in blue, and the connecting veins, barely underneath, were radiating out in various shades of purple. He could not have looked happier about it.

The boys would not allow their King in passing to force himself so crassly on the surprised steward. Dion thought it was a waste, since Armand was primed for such slobbery tasks. They’d lifted Dion off and he had snarled and kicked. The brigade of pampered meanies still had enough fear for the Price son to let him go once Armand was on his feet. Dion made short work of him then, because Dion had new viciousness in him, to pile on top of the old. Those that were frozen, afraid of his retaliation when Armand had his head tossed into the metal doors one too many times to stay upright, received demeaning claps on their faces, one each, before Dionysus bluntly started to shed his clothes. It was a display of power then, to be naked inside a ring of threats.

He smirked, congratulating himself for the violent adventure, as he corrected to collar that had seen better days. With his hair wet from the shower that had been tense to say the least, he felt refreshed. The next event on his schedule would be delightful, no matter what it was, with this happening to lift his spirits.

He was a different animal now, walking through the corridors. Deerest with antlers and sharp teeth.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #83 on: May 16, 2017, 06:02:32 am »
Phaedra shifted uncomfortably on the motel bed. It was dim, save the shafts of light lancing between the broken blinds. They illuminated Dulcinea, and it looked like she had unraveled, curls of her pale existence vanishing in the bright streaks. “It’s not the nicest place, but the people who own this place are like me.” She said with a crooked grin. It wasn’t pride, exactly, so much as it was validation. Phaedra was the minority here. “So, they let me crash here when there are free rooms.” Dulcinea’s ghost of a private life, slipping through the cracks in that story like the dirty light through the window. Parents who wouldn’t notice she hadn’t come home, or parents she didn’t want to notice when she did.

“It’s, um, it’s nice. Or, it’s nice that they do that.” Phae offered. They weren’t friends. But formality was peculiar in this space. Dulcinea fell back onto the bed, arms splayed.

“It’s not nice. It’s polite though.” She chuckled. Phaedra tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Nervous tick, maybe. “Anyway, you need to calm down. I’m not going to go ballistic and devour you or something.” Dulcinea—Sugar sounded like she thought it might be worth being offended. “You aren’t that special.”

Phaedra coughed into her fist and shook her head. “I don’t think I am. I just don’t know what I’m doing. I guess I wouldn’t be here with you, if I knew what I was doing.” She said. Sugar made a sound that was like sarcasm given breath.

“Half of that is true.” She agreed. She did not say which half. “You’re kind of… inexperienced, huh?” Sugar asked, propping herself up on her elbows. She’d never really had a female friend before, or much of a friend in general. Danny might have been something close. Phaedra was a little curious, that way. She wasn’t competition because she wasn’t really part of Sugar’s world. She was a creature that would have done better to know Dulcinea but was asking for Sugar’s favor. Sugar cocked her head. “Like, you act like you’re asking me to teach you how to fuck, but I doubt you’ve got the sense to really get the metaphor.” She said. Sugar blinked. She’d had another flavor of this conversation not more than a few hours before. It made her laugh.

Phaedra flushed and curled her fingers tight around the fabric of her uniform skirt, because she supposed Sugar was laughing at her. “Does that really matter?” she demanded. Sugar went quiet and scowled.

“Yeah, actually. It kind of does. I wasn’t really planning on being your first everything.”

--

Poppy was sitting very straight and staring at him very intently. She’d left such a strange offer on the table. Which was to say, she’d placed herself at a disadvantage from the start and she was aware of it. He was too, she was certain. Listening to him roll her explanations over on his tongue she thought it was no wonder he’d become a Fox to this city. She was caught between being drawn toward him and shrinking away when he seemed to come closer. It might have worked in her favor, immovable girl. Statuesque before the king.

“Try his side?” she said it with such an admirable amount of disgust. Reflexive, to the point that it was almost believable. Poppy met his stare. “I would never.” She said. There was a lie in the way her voice hissed around those words. “It doesn’t matter whether the things he wants are right or wrong.” Poppy set her jaw. “He should learn to control himself.” Like me. She wasn’t that kind of liar, then. Rather, she was an idealist of her own making. It was fine if he saw it in her. Poppy’s faults didn’t matter because she controlled them. She’d have him see her mastery as clearly as he saw her Hunger.

Poppy frowned. “A temporary no, because I won’t—“ he continued and it destroyed the rest of her words against the roof of her mouth. It was difficult to protest that way when he frolicked through, perching her on the edge of villainy where her pride had been rooted so strongly. “I’m here for them. Clearly, I’ll go where I must for them.” She said. Bit the syllables so she’d not bite her own tongue.

“But you’re being unreasonable, I think.” She flinched when he drew closer still. “You’re asking for something ridiculous. What’s one boy in the grand scheme of your kingdom?” Poppy tried. But what was one taste in the river of her ego? She exhaled. “But, I guess this is your game, right?” she asked. A Fox King without tricks and dens was nothing of his name. “Either way, it isn’t for you to tell me what my life is worth.” The Price heiress found her voice there. She knew how to wield her silver spoon, at least, regardless of the spells his proximity and yellow eyes were weaving.

“My kingdom isn’t like yours. My kingdom is one I’m supposed to share with my brother. I won’t trade it to be a servant in yours for the sake of... of curiosity.” She said, and then he laughed at her. She was taken aback. Poppy wasn’t to be laughed at. “What gives you the right to tell me anything about living? Of all the requests you could make, you’re choosing to mock me?”


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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #84 on: May 16, 2017, 10:42:12 am »
Daedalus hummed as though she was treating him to something especially, almost offensively delicious, when she’d said her part about control. His was a kingdom of agreements, whether they were breathed in fearful joy, or blared through coy refusal. High expectations for her brother, and so Dae learned the same thing about her, too. She could see his little triumph in the yellow eyes, as one brow lifted. He was further pleased to see her agree to this journey, if it was for the friend and the sibling. He supposed this meeting this far should have told him as much. Cold, she would have him believe, but she was here for two of her heartstrings. Her reluctance, spelled out in hard sounds, was also delectable to him.

Unreasonable. Ridiculous. She liked to attach condescension as facts. Poppy Price wasn’t proved wrong enough to know the distinction. One boy she pressed, how insignificant. “Then don’t tell me what your brother’s life is worth.” To me. He bickered tartly. She’d not upset him, not even his current easy, collected nature could hide that. “Maybe he could be an admiral for the Hunger. Elements need Elementals, Price.” He played. While he was also a servant of control, he was too engaged now. He didn’t see it and she couldn’t possibly know, but he was not prone to give his audience like this.

It was so sweet, the notion of sister and brother leading with the only power that most people sought, these days. This must be a deep bond. “But your brother is here, sister.” He reminded her. Some boy, this, to have a friend and Poppy Price go to such lengths. “if our kingdoms differ then there you have it, with him in both.” And then his jaw dropped in statuesque scandal when she scolded him for his laughter. It deserved that reaction, he thought. “You gave me the right, Poppy.” He drew, the sharpness at this distance had to be a contained. Thunderstorm turning over, sleepy, in his chest. “Couldn’t I in theory tell you a great many things?” He liked to look at her face then.

“I don’t mean to mock, however, but you’re amusing.” He explained and leaned back, without his attention toward her wavering. “Are you going to be completely impossible with this?” he pressed as he pulled down the weathered zipper to open up for an equally battered undershirt. He was getting comfortable, angel skin with wolf mane, in rags. “My kind loves people. At the very core of it out fixation becomes affection. You should see that. I don’t mean to insult.” He said and looked into the ceiling, running his hands through his hair. Animal grooming. “But I have a few things to do for the Hunger. Like you know, locales are a hassle to procure. So I won’t indulge you if I have to paw around your extended sense of self, too. This is not going to be my decent into manners.”

He held his hand out for hers. The atmosphere smelt like him, now. “Give me.” He said, fingers curling out and in. And then he would pull her touch to wrap around the side of his throat. He was fully human, despite the stories, with the heat that comes with that. A strong pulse, and vivid temperature. He looked at something in the air as he continued to speak, with her palm locked to him. “The Hunger is a loving thing, you see. You know the value of life. You can feel it on me and you would know it was gone if you couldn’t.” he smiled to himself as his head fell back, eyes shut. Canine enjoying her coaxed petting. “I want to see the new age go from the ground through our toes up the top of our heads. I want to see it in the air like a crimson renaissance.” It was his essence, put plain. “But your brother, young in our timeline, just knows he wants things. He is indiscriminate, mostly, his belly emptied out with love.” His fingers pressed hers deeper into his column. “I don’t think you’re foreign to that kind of thing.” His eyes opened at the ceiling and his head fell to look at her. More wolf, then. “If you’re asking me to shut him out, I want you know at least a fraction of what you want for him. That might give you the voice to tell him, yourself.” He suggested. His scruffs was on her forearm, his breath toward the bend of her arm. “I am just asking you to indulge, really, Poppy, blood for your blood, before I consider going against my own religion for you. The cost is at least that. Do it for the both of us.” Me and Dionysus.

A slow parting of his lips, no teeth. “Or would you rather be loved than love?” he asked, other hand reaching for her mouth. “I give it good, too.” He was stronger, many times, but none of the pressures he held on her would be too much for her to break free from, physically. Porcelain things are not to be bent, after all. But they can be turned.

-

Dion was unaware of the two that romanced blood for him. He was sucking his pencil while looking out the window, picking out heads of hair to pull. He was bruise cheeked, dreaming heavy dreams with his eyes half open about Danny and whatever treasure would come. If he'd known, perhaps he'd rather wrestle with a yellow-eyed wolf with misplaced possessiveness for his sister, or watch as Phaedra became something other for him, under Sugar.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #85 on: May 21, 2017, 05:24:55 pm »
Poppy was a bright girl and she was more than equipped to understand when she was being backed into a corner. It was a sensation she experienced rarely, being the sort to tear open paths when it suited her, and one she’d not ever appreciated. This interaction, then, was winding solidly into the realm of her unhappiness. But he was playing through all of it, somehow, despite believable convictions, and that made her want to defeat him even if it pushed her against the wall.

There was as well, beneath her ire, the soft and surging tide of the swell her brother had already drowned in. He had forced her hand, pulling her by the wrist toward its depth on the kitchen floor, and only the abrupt confrontation of the abyss in a bucket had really sent her back up for air. Daedalus was entreating the same siren song, the one she knew was grotesque, but with more finesse than Dion could have ever mustered now. Artist, animal, certainly monarch in this space. If she was admirable for maintaining her composure, it was equally delightful that it faltered.

Her fingers against the column of his throat, twitched once like she was considering it. And she was. It occurred to her that the greatest victory here would be to pass his test. She was aware that this meant he was leading, that she had lost the upper hand the moment he’d brought her inside. But Poppy had, at least, anticipated that much of a man called a king by ferocious beasts. She just hadn’t anticipated it quite like this. Still, to acquiesce and rise to the top was as graceful a way to succeed as it was to dominate. Poppy had all sorts of means to protect her pride. “You’d be satisfied, then, for some safe places and watching me try your debauchery once?” she asked with the sort of tone one might use to clarify a point at a board meeting. It was strikingly vulgar, paired with her nails against his skin.

“I can admire your sympathy for my brother, at least.” She said, and she did let her fingers find some force and traction against his skin. “But you must realize by now that I’m not like him, even if I put myself in his place.” It was Poppy’s turn to move closer to him, to close that distance, and what might have made him a feral god made her delightfully human. She had taken a step back toward that corner to find her footing, only. “Dae,” she said, because he’d clearly invited that familiarity now, “As with all negotiations, I can’t just acquiesce.” She said, almost apologetically. “So, it’s not out of any desire to have your teeth at my throat that I say this, but the necessity of better understanding who I’m working with.”

Pressed her lips further against his own fingertips. “This is, regardless of what you’d like to call it, just another exercise in control. So you show me too. That you can run this debauched kingdom and maintain your composure. I won’t be able to trust this bargain otherwise.” Her nails dug, just enough to cut the surface of his skin.

It would be this, then, a peculiar posturing that wouldn’t be settled until they dusted themselves off and could sit here blood-soaked with the same composure. He had probably gotten what he wanted, if he was fluent in the green of her eyes. A new challenge was Poppy’s element; she could indulge the Hunger to spite it, to prove herself better, which was her greatest addiction.

--

Sugar was laughing as her fingers dipped along Phae’s neckline, tracing the open buttons of her shirt down to its point. “No wonder he’s a little possessive, I think, when you make faces like that so easily.” And Phaedra was rosy and sweet with the way she hadn’t been able to maintain eye-contact with the other girl. It was easy to enjoy being so effective on such a pliable thing. “It’s almost disgusting.” Sugar hummed, and let her lips graze the corner of Phae’s mouth. The dark-haired girl inhaled sharply.

“Is this really necessary?” Phaedra asked quietly, though she wasn’t pulling away.

“Yes, probably. You’re going to be Pavlov’s dog, that’s all. Don’t take it so serious. But you don’t even know what you like yet.” Sugar sighed, and then kissed Phae lightly. When she pulled her face away, Dion’s maid had closed her eyes. Sugar smirked. “But, at least in that way people are predictable, whether they want to chew on bones or not.” 


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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #86 on: May 21, 2017, 10:24:30 pm »
Her contracting fingers closed on a surge in his throat, and his eyes flared just a little out of their usual shape for it. He was running his touch over the tempered surface that was the Poppy Price veneer, and looking for any inconsistencies that would give away her intent. He kept her hand there, steady, so she could do what she wanted. "Yes. If you'd like to put it plain, then land and blood is enough to bar your brother from my establishments." It was not such a great sacrifice, not a cost to his time or effort, to forbid one soul from the carnival.

He was welcoming when she slid closer and added more force to the nails on his life's highway. No, if she'd been like her brother, or even close, she would be drinking at the pool of the fountain instead of climbing it to speak to its mouth. This was not his specialty, that she weaved, not entirely. He lived his life a little like a benefactor or a great antagonist, and writing contracts in the air was part of that, but she was the daughter of a titan of coffers, she knew how to push for all things that weren't souls. His advantage was that he didn't have much stock in what she was squeezing him for, which let him play with a looser wrist.

She endeared him to the haggle, though, and the challenge was valid. It was hard not be be invested when she drove home the point with his own blood. The smile she saw had a glint of white. Insolent, if she'd been of his kingdom. His skin was not marked by the life he provided others. He was not indulgent. "I prove myself, then, to you." he clarified and bled on her nail. "That I am worth your time." Never pressed in such a way, the Hungry were often too engrossed to doubt him when he appeared. This could be a treat.

"It's not proof, not until you verify and I think it'd be rude of me to send you down those paths, but I'll tell you of the labyrinth of the Hungry." he offered, now that they had found a drum to move to. "It's an enterprise based on one vice, or virtue. It wouldn't hold up if it wasn't contained on all sides by this." His knuckles, since they were so familiar now - Dae and the touch of her lips to his fingerprints - brushed her cheekbone to direct the focus to her person. "Restraint, or reluctance, taboo, whatever lines other forbidden things." As though she was some avatar in this room for shackles on desires. She could be flattered about it, Angel of control, or displeased to be slotted to represent deprivation. He was sure the result would be a delightful subtle clue on her well held features, either way.

"So I really want for my kingdom to be obsolete." For children in the future to be scolded about eating their brothers and sisters the same way they are lectured on not stealing. "And that's why I can't frequent the banquets. It was not the inebriated that took away the prohibition." He made to lean back, as though that was the end of the story. Time for a break, time to speak of real things. He wanted to put something easy in this place with them.

But he was not a storyteller. He was a King fox.

And then, before he could really commit to falling back on the abused cushions of their seats, his thumb pressed firmly on her lower lip, to cut it on her own teeth. His eyes were stained again, like amber had caught black sand. She'd challenged, he was drawing his rapier. "But I live here, in the belly of this great centipede, and you're just sliding down the gullet now." he reminded her. "You don't know what I've declined on the way." On his thumb, held up for her to see like it was a mirror that would fill her with doubt. And then his face was close to hers, like the blood between them was some dear object of care for them both. He turned the digit to catch daylight with her little trail of life. "But I suppose it could have worn me down too." he mumbled to himself, thinking that Poppy Price's blood was as much of a treasure as any fine thing he'd been tempted with.

"I think, we'll be friends, either way." he concluded, but could not take his attention of the ruby spill.

-

Where you at, girl?

Sent. Dion chewed on on his pen, pouting into the endeavor as he watched Phaedra's smile on the screen. He wasn't usually so informal with her, not for an opener, but he was incredibly bored with academics now, if that was what you'd call this. His attempt at procrastinating through the little digital window was poorly concealed, but the teacher still didn't go through the trouble of asking the Price son where his attention went.

Dion's thumb went over the screen until he found his tracing application. He frowned. To what use? Phaedra should at least be somewhere around the school and Poppy had more than likely taken counter measures, already.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #87 on: May 25, 2017, 04:30:47 pm »
It didn’t take long to understand Phaedra. That she was the sort of pliable flower that would bloom for any rain, thirsty for the experience. It said nothing of the girl’s heart, but spoke volumes of her mind and body. This was the best sort of arrangement for Sugar, who could not have cared about Phae’s beating organ any further than the possible tender of her chambers.

Sugar was apt to enjoy herself in most endeavors, subscribing strongly to placing herself at the center of any and all universes that mattered. She was not thinking very much about what Phaedra had come to her for, let alone about what Dion would think, as she pinned the dark-haired girl beneath her. Hand on her wrist, above her head, and her mouth on Phae’s blushing petals. Phaedra had the kind of eager eloquence in her tongue that most girls their age had already forgotten.

Phaedra’s phone, tucked in the waistband of her skirt between them, buzzed twice with an incoming message. Sugar was surprised to find it was enough for Phae to pull away and reach for the device. As if she thought she needed to explain, Phaedra wiggled the phone between them. “Sometimes, it’s work.” She said apologetically. Sugar shrugged and rolled off to the side.

“Ah, yes, you’re kind of famous in our school, right? Domestic helper at this age and all that. More than a few students are envious of your Dionysus.” Sugar yawned. Phae gave her a tight smile; she had heard people say similar things before and never been fond of the implication. Which was not to say that she would not have been gladly counted amongst Dion’s possessions, but that the same sentiment from anyone else was not on equal footing. She could be insulted by the very same desire she would have cultivated in her dearest friend. Sugar’s brows arched high. Telling expression on the little maid’s face and so much drama. “I think it would do you well to relax, sometime.” Sugar offered.

Phaedra said nothing, checking her message instead. Dion, not his father. It meant the matter was not urgent, probably, but that she cared for it more. It was short, and unfamiliar in tone, but Phae was immediately relieved to see that she was still on his mind. Poppy’s words had always seemed like slamming books to her, and she realized she’d been afraid that Dion would choose not to associate with her as much as Poppy had implied Phae should not associate with him.

I’m out with a friend. Please don’t tell I’ve skipped class.

--

Poppy couldn’t help herself. Even as her stare was fixed on the sliding bead of red down her fingertip, she had all the confidence in the world. It wasn’t even bravado, really, because Poppy did everything on purpose. “I don’t know, you’re correct,” She agreed. He had surely hovered on the edge of more frothing life than she’d care to imagine. “But you’ve never declined me.” Poppy said, which was necessarily true and unnecessarily brazen. She hadn’t moved a muscle when he slit her lip on her own weapon.

He held what he’d captured between them, pretty ruby sphere turning dark even as he fed it the sun. She was watching him watch her on the blade of his nail and it sparked some pride in her. “If friends means we can come to some agreement, I think that would be lovely.” Poppy answered, and let her own digits dig where he’d started her. It seemed like it must be a terrible thing to make a beautiful man bleed, but that only stirred more in the tight beat of her chest.

She was certain that he must be special, this Fox King, top shelf sort, inaccessible to most. If she was wrong, he was playing that role well enough that she was willing to bite. It was the norm of luxury, after all, to appreciate presentation as much as truth. Dion should have met this man, she thought, rather than dive into his pits. Dae was exquisite because he wore unreachable, where Dion was so eager she felt obligated to step over him. An awful thought toward her darling brother, for whom she’d made this trip to begin with. But then, in the same way there must have been some always dominating part of Dion toward their darling Phaedra, Poppy had always thought to own Dion.

These realizations were not exceptionally new or special, but, like her Hunger, she’d left to stew in the less-touched portions of her heart. She wore them for Dae now and did not hate what that made her. Instead she brought her mouth to his thumb, recapturing quickly the bead he’d stolen, and leaving three more against his skin in return. She let her teeth rake the tip of his thumb as she sat back, and scraped open a thin well to add his red to hers. Tiny artworks.       


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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #88 on: May 26, 2017, 10:32:13 am »
They could be friends if it was beneficial to her. What a cold heart, his eyes said, with enough flavor to let her know it was a joke, also. She was always fencing, even when sitting down. Perhaps it was a good thing that this was his court and he'd decided to hold what she wanted a little tighter than most things, or Poppy's calculating soul would have snatched his agreement up like a passing viper. "Then let's be lovely." he said, and it was welcoming when he meant for it to sound judgmental. Dae was learning about himself, too.

Her face was talkative while her lips emitted the appropriate silence. He made no secret of that he was reading, but the nature of Daedalus's eyes were that they didn't intrude unless he meant to. This intimacy was close enough, he didn't need to invite himself by burning some mark on her cheek with his attention. It might also make her aware enough to take back what honesty she was displaying, now.

With all of that, he was still so engaged he held his breath when she took his thumb. What delectable texture her teeth had. He'd not felt that many sets, but the finality of the enamel touch was always a primal, nerve-close, kind of communication. Perhaps he'd scraped himself against those edges, too. Ah, brave woman, or well-informed, to nurture his eyes with hers while she hurt him. It made the pulse quicken under her pearly blades, and the blood richer for it.

He looked at the line she'd made on him, mulling over the possibilities. Two shades. His was darker, further from the lungs. All of his palm turned to her, spread, so that she could see the ore on the loneliest digit. "Look what you've done." to accuse, but their game wasn't petty. He took the hand back to dab into the first mark she made, and then brought his touch all the way through their little distance, to reach for her with glistening thimbles. It was only the knuckles that touched her, first, an innocent stroke when he was running out of untainted skin. "You made me bleed in my own house." he said and then finally turned the caress. Four lines to underline her cheekbone.

Elegant Poppy Price, with morbid blush on half her noble face. He'd taken care that the thickest line found its way to the corner of her already cut mouth. The balls of his folded fingers, still clean, lifter her chin so he could consider the skin on her neck, elevated out of the blouse. These were her contrasts then, pretty girl, wearing good brands, her birthright, but with other things - red, forest berry things - trying to sprout from inside. Rabbit through the thicket. She was more of thorns than she was a runner.
Daedalus wanted to stay close when she sat back. It started like he was closing them for a first kiss, head weighted to the side like so. Early, perhaps, but wasn’t drawing signatures from new wounds a greater intimacy? It didn’t matter. Before he could try the contact he suggested, he took the one he wanted, dropping lower on his way, wide breath lining her throat down before his jaws came hammer closed. He thought it would be glorious if he’d done it, grab her like a trampling trap, on either side, and lifted her by her windpipe like she was indeed a runner in white. Dignified and well assembled people like Poppy died best, whether it was by becoming undone, or expiring in a collected manner. But instead the collar of her blouse widened, like an exhale that kept the mouth wide, sans the button he’d undone with his bite.
He looked at her like he was innocent of the overstep he’d just committed, and then slid a red-capped digit and the artistic thumb into his plush mouth to retrieve the button. It left him with a smear on the corner of his lips and two halves of the button pinched. Had it all just been an excuse to drive their tastes over his tongue? He was enjoying himself royally.

-

Dion frowned at the reply. It was attractive like it is on cubs, and some of the admirers who were neglecting the teacher were further intrigued. He could not have been more indifferent toward them, blatantly tending to his device. She was fast to respond, Phae’s had a habit of that, and even the teachers gave her some kind of freecard with her phone since they knew of her duties outside of class. Still. Phae skipped class as often as she swore or ran the corridors naked. Or when he or Poppy convinced her.

I won’t tell.

It was profoundly unsatisfying to leave at that, so he picked the emotional technology up again, soon, to continue the conversation. Last time she’d been with a friend that he didn’t know, they were both bloody, in the end.

Don’t do something adventurous, Phaedra.

Dion forgot to treat her like she was dear to him, sometimes. Her and his sisters were the few that he ever thought of as people. Even though father and mother were to be revered, they felt a bit cold, painted on the vault of his skull, indeed like deities. He was going to leave the girl time to respond after his demanding message. Patience ran anemic faster than girls die in RV’s.

Phae. Tell me who you’re with. Please.

All friends close of the heart will pull at its strings, at some point. He didn’t like Phaedra’s new life.

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Re: Rush Revel
« Reply #89 on: May 27, 2017, 07:19:42 pm »
She had the kind of absurd sensibilities that came with a pampered upbringing. “That was expensive.” Poppy told him, flicking the words from between her teeth like spitting the button he held in his. She didn’t sound upset over it though, rather it seemed she thought he might actually need instruction. Or, at least, that this small offense made them even. He, altering her blouse, and she, altering his skin in his own chapel. It wasn’t right, but it might not have been wrong either.

Poppy watched him pluck the button out of his mouth and take in a little of their mingled taste in the motion. Lips curled, like he’d shown himself more honestly, but a fox honestly was still a fox. She withdrew her own hand, which had still been pressed on his throat, and took what had begun to dry there. He tasted new, something distinctly other from herself, when Dion had always shared her flavor in different shades. Soft sigh, like there was relief in that.

“You’re restrained.” She said, though he was enjoying himself however he wished, she was certain. Restrained, compared to her wildling brother still teething. Restrained, from the woman who held that like the greatest compliment. Perhaps she had expected a little more abandon from the king of the primal city.

Poppy leaned in toward him, an echo of his own posturing, and took the smear at the corner of his mouth on her tongue. It was a bit like they were playing truth or dare, acting out that request Dion had split their nostalgia with. She wondered if that amounted to betrayal and, for the first time in her life, considered she might be a hypocrite. She decided she didn’t care, if it was the case, being of a higher motivation. It was easy to rise above morality when settling into the role of a martyr. Daedalus had offered her that much.

She had shown herself to be bolder than she should have been, or fantastically self-confident, eating at the mouth of a strange wolf. Audacious, she licked her lip clean as the cut there continued to well with their continued agitation. “Show me more?” she asked, and it was honest curiosity masquerading as a challenge.

--

Phaedra squirmed when the phone quivered with more messages. Sugar was more insistent with her mouth this time, rolling herself back over the other girl and swatting the phone away from her hand. “Ignore it, or you won’t learn anything.” Sugar purred, a little more the predator Phae had met in the Fox Den.

It made her nervous, the rabbit shrinking from fangs because it was her nature. Sugar laughed, and pulled the phone from her when she reached for it. “Don’t waste my time, Bunny,” Sugar sighed. Phaedra made a sound of protest that rolled into a confused mewl against Sugar’s sweet tongue.

Let her have her adventures. You’re busy with yours.

Phaedra scrambled to grab the phone back when Sugar had had her way. “What did you… why would you do that?” Phae gasped. Sugar giggled.

“Haven’t you noticed how much attention he’s giving you, knowing you’re not with him?” Sugar yawned. Phaedra hadn’t considered it.

“I—“ Phaedra began, and then had no argument to return nor a thought left to express as Sugar’s slender fingers slid along her skin beneath her blouse.