shipwreck_light: Portrait of Kitto by DoroDraws. (Kitto)
Shipwreck Light ([personal profile] shipwreck_light) wrote in [community profile] rainbowfic2014-03-13 08:46 pm

Ember #21- South

Author: SWL
Story: Jealous of Roses, Arc 3 Cuts You Up
Index: Click Here.
Colors: Ember #21- South
Styles and Materials: Finger Paint
Word Count: 3,700ish
Summary: Kitto works the first night after curfew is called off. This is a re-write of a scene from one of the ancestor stories. It dates back about twelve and a half years.
Rating: R
Warnings: References to violence and hard drug use. Boreas is in this one (contains exploitation of various forms).
Suggested Music For You'll-Know-It-When-You-Get-There:
The following are always welcome: comments, constructive criticism, collaboration inquiries, cake.

The room swims. I hear people talking. The sounds slam together. They don't work out to words.

Takes me a long time, standing in the bathroom, trying to remember just what I was doing when I headed that way.

I sway at the sink, watching one of the bulbs overhead blow out in slow motion so the mist inside burns out.

The noises outside slow down and the vapor rushes.

"What was that? No, what was it! Why won't you..."

There's another crack out there in the bedroom. "Quiet. It's just Kitto. You know him."

I did kinda step over Zelmire. I guess she's awake too.

Boreas crouches beside her as she rubs her hair over her cheek.

"No more mouthing off?" he says.

"No~," she sings, holding out her tongue. It drips as he taps a white pill onto it.

"That's a good girl. Come here and have some candy too, boy."

He catches me up before I quite make it there. When he puts the pill in (different one than she got- huh), he pulls my lips apart, then jabs my jaw together as I chew. It's bad. "Thank you," I mutter.

I get something sharp across my face for it. "You come when I call."

"...broke a light. Didn't mean to." Figure if I'm there I'll take it while he's bored or whatever. But, that's just a sigh. Getting pushed off without a kiss.

Me and Zelmire, we sit in the shadow of the revolving sculpture Lord Kildeas keeps in the same place as us. We get chocolate croissants while the bench across the room moans. I just eat the middles. She takes the rest.

All of us and our slick slick lips sit at his feet. One by one he cuddles and kisses and shoots us up.

"I know you're not a bad boy," he tells me. "Sharing your crust when you don't have to."

Since the box isn't even half empty. With him there and the needle in my arm.

Behind us, the sculpture goes still, prisms stuck up funny on the ceiling as the sun goes down.

After that, I can more or less walk again. We go through who's doing what, all of us swinging on our curtains and cry and make out.

I could be out on the corner of the street somewhere. I bet it's cold out there tonight.

Boreas pours me into clubbing gear, black shiny stuff that's too tight and jeans and way too much crap in my hair. We get presented to Lord Kildeas. Or we would- except he's crashed out in front of the TV with two blonds and some empty martini glasses.

"We can record this, my lord," Boreas insists. His hand on Zelmire's shoulder wrinkles up her dress.

"I've seen it before," and, he sighs. "I want to go swimming, not out. It's going to be a madhouse."

"And let the powers-that-are spoil your fun? My lord, that's..."

"I know." popcorn kernels tumble from his lap as he stands.

We have to wait while Boreas dresses him too.

The sidewalks overflow with people and neon signs. It hasn't been this way- lit up and not alone, for more than a week I guess. Probably longer. There's a hole where the time goes. Other people had curfew and then they didn't.

The driver and lord Kildeas carry on even though she's not supposed to talk. Me and the rest of the entourage fight over the getting turned colors as we pass different spectrums and clublands.

Zelmire's fingers leave smudges on the window.

We had south to the CyberSix.

Place has this amazing sound system. I get in there and the music plays like from the bottom of my ribs. When I leave, I think about a bruise healing there until it fades away.

Since I haven't been in at least a week, the music gets like it's pumping extra hard tonight. I want to push my feet through the sidewalk just to get to the beat faster.

Dawns on me as we're waved past the bouncer that I'm not here to dance.

"Perks of owning your own club, hmm?" Lord Kildeas smiles down the people waiting to get past the ropes.

Boreas hustles him along, but he still blows a kiss that somebody reaches up to catch it.

We walk on past the glitter. Bodies that trickle and unwind the way raindrops on glass do. I hold my neck stiff to keep watching where I'm going and not what's out there.

In the back rooms, it's still pretty loud and the air's chappy with smoke. Clubs are fake, right. Looks like somebody dumped a sci-fi set over some back room poker game.

Boreas snaps, "Cuba Libres for the kids."

Zelmire sniffs at the idea. We're /not/ kids. She doesn't say anything.

Maybe I'm projecting or whatever and he put something up her nose that's just now starting to itch. She sways. I try to drink. The bubbles sting. We're both way out of time with the music and you know. I'd rather have it that way. I'm not buzzing so much.

Boreas doesn't tell us to move, just drags us where he wants us with a smile.

The door to the back room blows open and there's Lord Kildeas spread against the dark. The first thing he says to lord Duclos gets caught in a bass drop from where I stand.

"Come now. You were always welcome to join us. Curfew or no curfew..." he jabs in after.

In the halflight, her eyes are all sharp. Tian's face all grin.

The rest of her courtiers- that old guy she keeps around. The one who had the cane. He doesn't now, but he keeps a hand against one ear as he comes in. And the one who used to belong to Boreas too, before he was Boreas. There's some joke about their names I don't get. Boreas and Zephyr don't sound the same to me. Anyway, Siebenkas is in a suit. Zephyr looks like me, like he belongs here. His jeans drag off of his hips.

Back with Tian and Lord Duclos, there's this one more vibration.

Someone got her in a Black Alchemy dress. I only know that because I killed someone wearing one once and the tag stuck to me. They're messy iridescent things that come with knife wounds.

Boreas bends who whisper in her ear as she steps in.

"Fancy meeting you here, Chloris my dear." That's clear, since they're so close.

"I'm helpin myself to a bitta what's all 'round me," she answers.

His eyes under his makeup go so clear, kind of... it hurts to look at him too long, so I'm glad it goes away.

Chloris swirls past me and starts bug-checking the table full of drinks. Zelmire chases her down too. They watch each other work.

I end up next to her. Chloris. We're both short and butting the wall. Seems like I saw some setup like this in a samurai movie.

Also means I'm watching Zephyr from here. Boreas got close to him.

"Yo," says Tian. "Vodka cream on the rocks. One for me, one for her."

Siebenkas doesn't take anything. Zephyr gets /vodka/ and Chloris. "I wanna Poppit on ice with somethin red."

That's an energy drink and I think they're coffee flavored. It shows up in a sundae glass with a fistful of strawberries on top.

Everybody toasts. Lords and courtiers.

I'm a courtier too.

My feet are killing me. I think there's still paper in one of my shoes. The sensation's got a noise somewhere inside that doesn't go with the music.

I have no idea what anybody's talking about. I know that's mixed. But, when I think about it, seems like its breaking into pieces of songs between.

Lord Kildeas, pulls back at ease against his chair. "I'm here. Tell me."

"Since we've got about as much chance of holding a court of the manor this season as we do of..." Lord Duclos answers, cut off since her fingers get way to close. Zelmire presses her tongue between her fingers.

Tian bristles. And she laughs. Zelmire's spit runs onto Duclos's hand before she nudges her off.

I start to say- that's stupid. Maybe my lips move. But, there's no sound.

As Duclos kisses her on her still-red cheek. Zelmire's gonna be so disappointed. What'd we do- try to suck Lord Kildeas off even though he was drunk and couldn't get it up for nothing? No favors for friends or whatever?


"No great loss." He says. Not to us.

"How droll." She says back.

"Oh, it's a loss."

I try to smile. I seriously. I do. But, I hurt. This thing in my legs, stretching and wanting to stand.

And you know what.

Fuck it.

I can't protect Boreas or my lord like this.

I pretend to pop my back, but I squirm the shoes off under the table. The naked air hits my toes creamy and cool and pins, but it's still better than that other thing.

"You could just call one of the kills that was really mine," laughs Lord Kildeas. "Then, I'd have the right to kill you. I wouldn't even have to call in my favor."

"Oh, you haven't done that yet?"

He keeps at it. Playing that he's amused. "You're not really..."

"Have you? I suppose not."

The other courtiers and me. We bat back and forth about this, between our lord and the other, however that goes. Nobody seems mad until things get back into agreements of who owns what. I know some of that's brothels and places like this, but I don't even own how messed up I am tonight.

Or the shudder up my spine when somebody puts their bare foot on mine.

It's small and damp and on the same side as Chloris.

She doesn't look my way. The hand wrapped around her glass all lit up with wires. I'm pretty sure she's an evoker like Zephyr.

You don't play footsie with evokers. I know better, but I don't do better. I shift my heel around and set it overtop of her ankle.

The toes beside mine flare.

Her grin flashes - never goes away, never comes, but it's different in an instant that drags on I got earlier.

I don't like this song. I don't have to tell anybody. My drink sucks. She gets to listen to how bad.

/ It's all the same to him./ Boreas said. By and by about the guy she says is her Dad.

Guess that's why he doesn't mind touching them.

Like now. Yeah, Boreas has Zephyr's shirt up in his hands. His fingers crawl over the flowers tattooed there. They're kind of sharing what I think must be a cigarette or a serious joint.

Chrloris has her eyes on the lords. Reiss doesn't even try. He slouches over his drink while Siebenkas mouths something to Tian. I don't see Zelmire.

I know Boreas's hands though. How they catch over your ribs. Hell, I've seen them on Zephyr already. Now, he's laughing and shoving back- "C'mon, man," though they do grind out a kiss and nobody says anything. Not even Pip from the far glance of her earrings.

Zelmire comes stumbling in, a case of real cigarillos balanced on a silver tray out of place with where we are.

Lord Duclos takes one without asking. "Forgive me if I savor some things in my life. It's a party, isn't it?"

Tian's the one who lights her up. She leaves Zelmire alone with an empty spark.

"As much as you want it to be, bonds and all." Lord Kildeas moves like he's toasting her, though they're smoking and their glasses taken away.

"If you're going to insist, give me the girl back."

"You can have me if you want after that."

"Oh, bullshit." Says lord Duclos. She kisses Zelmire, then hands her off to her second.

Nobody seems to care that Boreas has Zephyr back against the chair. Like, he's not really washed out there even though he should be gone even though you know, I don't get that far. I pull- it's me who should be there. Then again. I don't want to at all even though it's just a kiss and it's not half of what I do for Boreas in an hour sometimes back at the manor and right I'm...

There's a trick in the beat. A skitter and an unvoiced metallic kinda rush following along. A deep whisper and a sigh following after.

My fingers flex. That pull in my legs that's almost gone without the shoes creeps in.

I blush.

I don't know either- the name of this song. Or the last time I heard it, what happened when that was.

I just know that for the first time since we touched, Chloris looks at me. Just a glance as she bites the end of her straw. I know she doesn't need to so...

It's also the first time she's bothering me. Being there. Catching my blush. It's not as intense as what this song does to but, but over the rest I swallow and it kind of hurts but I realize. I don't have to try and explain this to anybody. Why I'm blushing.

It's awful and I don't mind. Chloris sticks the other end of her straw in the last strawberry. She leaves it and her forefinger that's all damp with condensation flicks towards the hallway leading back to the kitchen.

I don't know what she's asking or if what I think it must be would even make me happy anymore. But there's this vibe leading on the pull of my own thoughts; what I could be doing.

As Boreas bites her father on his jaw.

She's gone. Dropped under the table.

I go.

To meet her there.

I don't.

Remember moving after.

But we're caught under everyone else's shoes for a sec, smell of leather and panties and spilled cola.

Are we really doing this?

I can taste my heart on the back of my tongue. It's half a second before we break for the space beside Zelmire's thighs and something about that Anne-Marie whispered overhead.

Boreas says that's a name that means a bringer of bondage. Like a saint or something.

Which is gone, gone, gone to me in the next instant when we've broken for it, shot off across the floor and into the hallway.

The bass reaches into my hurting legs. We corner the waitress and Chloris's silvered fingers snag around mine. We run, our steps falling into the beat and it's a turn through the shipwreck of bodies along the wall before we touch the surface of the darkness.

My eyes were already all blown out. Like this, I can see in the details it seems like my pupils have been missing for a long time.

The people tossing with themselves, where there's hardly any space between. Lights wheels in their hands and how the ones without glitter shine too the way they're sweating.

We shoving our way in as the piano trill that gives me the hot chills down to the guts of my bones cut in sweet among the rest.

I don't know what all everybody even could be on, celebrating that they're back where they might just think they belong; hell, I don't even know what I'm on. In the strobe along the dark- I couldn't even say there's a thing her skin looks like. It's something you'd see right before you spook awake and then try to shake off.

She runs. She touch-touch-touches. There's a sigh, there's a laugh, there's an upwell in the bass all crashing after her wake. If she did those things, that's not something I read back from her.

Here's not a quiet street corner and I'm a courtier and so is she.

The voice drops off into sounds, ethereal against the deep being of the bass.

I smile.

And I want.

To dance so much as the ache burns off of the nerves in my whole body. I want to be wheeling and crashing and altogether synthesized if I'm not already.

Somewhere between our memories of moments before.

She stops.

I almost run into her. I would if she wasn't holding my hand.

We stand two still figures in a sea of twisting people that the show off in pieces.

I remember that the first chorus is starting. It's a bar, half a bar off when the line everybody casts to starts up.

She's still not wearing shoes and neither am I.

But, at nightfall in the music with the shade and soft, there's a current of body paint and holofoil there tracking up our legs.

As we dance.

We seem to stutter at the first, locked up funny on the unfamiliar sounds, pulse of the lights, other people in the crush where we have crept through.

She moves. I think I know what's coming next. I realize I don't care. Whatever this is, it could play forever and I'd still want it. I'd still be reaching out.

We are not like the people who cling to the walls or faint into their lovers' arms.

We go with each other. Or we may. Caught up on the rush, but not moving on it.

She dances funny I think, something hand drawn about it. Calculated I guess you could say if I'm even really seeing her still between flashes, the rise of what I am crushed up to that place beneath my chest.

It's not going to play for fourteen minutes. In all the other voices it might not even play for five and if I knew how long it had been- but, all I know is I'm still so warm. I might just look the same as her, boneless to a wave of light, spun up and strung out.

Chloris stopped watching me once we came to this place. I am to her only what she has on her hands. I'm stuck with how I see her cast against the rest of Cybersix where all but the iris highlights in the Black Alchemy dress are gone- even when she pulls me sideways- I just am and there as she skids on purpose just to catch herself on my chest. And she might just feel it in the moment before my neurons fire that I'm going to swing her around.

Yeah, ravers don't dance like this. But, she doesn't fall, but there's hands out and glassy glances coming out way before everything drifts back and we all. Her and me and this whole club where there's no morning ever creeping in. We are and we move and it's reaching out it's reaching back.

And we dance and.

I realize.

Neither of us are laughing that we can hear along the drums and angels voices.

But we look like we are. Transparent to each other in the tides of glitter, moved by the music so yes, Chloris, yes this makes me do something and fuck if I know the words, but I'm here. We are not anything but here and dancing and we want things.

The things this song gives you back: are they just echoes to her or can she taste my heart in her mouth too? Is it sweet or something else? Since I don't know. I don't fucking know that or who the fuck would.

I'm dancing and I care. Just not about.

Whatever it was before we rushed out here and we.

Started to move.

Precious and glancing.

How much. Well. I can kind of ache now with the next song welling up.

I don't stop or let go or whatever

I want some solace too.

She looks back the way we came. I can't see it at first, but we have so many beats for second before it overwhelms us.

The old man elbows his way through the crowd. His lips move, sound drowned out. At least to me.

Chloris still turns at her hips as she reaches up on her toes to him too. Kind like...

Hell, she dragged me this far.

I try to shove my way between her and whatever sudden shot of light he might have to pull us off the floor.

She just brushes past.

Above the last chimes of that voice.

(Please don't go I mean I know it's not going to last but give me one more updraft just please I.)

Is his: "May I have this dance, my little scamp?"

He takes her hand.

It's just a moment, three of us faceted together. Once it breaks and we move again through the bodies of strangers.

Damn man. Old guy's not bad.

Or maybe I'm just fucked up even thinking so much.

I love this song. I kind of love watching the two of them as it plays its last into another and I love that too

I still don't know. Why or how or.

I just know I'm here.

"Chloris?" says Boreas.

As I remember in my flesh this time what it is to have those hands on me.

He smiles. As if there's nothing left to ever be wrong with the world.

"The night is gone, but she is young,"

Oh, I thought so. The first time out after curfew it's already gone.

Well. I think I did OK.

Since he's finished with me, I sleep.

The words to that song have already left. They pull snatches after me into the stabs of the bed that wear away as I lie there, not dreaming or sleeping or waking. T hey are gone, but they carry.

Back down to the unreal places inside. Where I see her.

That woman I slit out of the Black Alchemy dress and the glittering draw of the knife.

That is where the dreams plunge

Chloris doesn't make me think about the person I killed. I barely remember her.

But, that tag picking away in the warm blood.

It's something that touched me by chance.

And something like what she'll see in her nights after this is she hasn't already.

Through whatever else there is.

I sink back to the song.

Reach out for me...

And it's gone again.

kay_brooke: Snowy landscape with a fence, an evergreen forest, and a pink sky (winter)

[personal profile] kay_brooke 2014-03-17 12:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Not sure what to say about this except that it's sad but also beautiful in a way.
bookblather: A picture of Yomiko Readman looking at books with the text "bookgasm." (Default)

[personal profile] bookblather 2014-05-31 07:08 am (UTC)(link)
I got all wibbly and sniffly at this. Poor baby Kitto, he just wants to dance and be happy but he's stuck with freaking Boreas.

*snuggles him forever*