but i want it,it's a crime, that she's not around most of the time. * the way she shows me I'm hers and she is mine; open hand or closed fist would be fine. blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.
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polarisrickiâ:
At the mention of killing someone, Chaoâs head snaps up again, unseeing eyes shooting in Winnieâs direction. âDo you want me to kill him? Because I will.â Murder, her father would say, is not the way of our family. But considering she ran away from her family, sheâs not too worried about what her dadâs going to think. Interest piqued, Chao blindly sticks a bookmark between pages and shuts the book, pushing it aside and crossing her arms on the table. âHow do you want me to do it? Crushed under rocks? Buried alive? But up to his neck so that a car inevitably runs him over and decapitates him?â That one sounds a little gross and risky, but Chaoâs up for a challenge.
Thereâs a long pause in which Winnie regards Chaoâs enthusiasm, before she breaks the silence with a thoughtful hm. âYou know, itâs not often that I find myselfâah, whatâs the term..." Winnie snaps her fingers, trying to conjure the answer. âOh! Turned on. Yes, itâs not often I find myself turned on unless someoneâs trying to kill me, but youâ youâve got me close.â Itâs the closest thing to a compliment that Winnie is capable of. âMaybe we can set up a maze where we kidnap him and he wakes up in a dungeon, and then we set up a bunch of slightly escapable traps, and even if he manages his way through those, just as he thinks heâs victorious? Buried alive. Letâs skip the second part, though, because if the driver sees him, then we risk him getting saved, and then Iâll get kicked out for sure.â
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polarisrickiâ:
Christian throws his arms in the air, mildly victorious. Heâs used his body for less noble purposes and with less trustworthy sex. He makes a mental note to offer himself up as a sacrifice to Mimi at some point, and leans back to snag another bite of pizza. Listening to her explanation about Harper, Christian nods slowly, processing the information slowly but certainly. By the time she finishes speaking, heâs polished off his slice of pizza and wiped the grease off on his pants. âI mean, that doesnât sound stupid. It just sounds like you were cursed. Or maybe you reached your limit at a bad time. And Iâm sure Harper realizes it wasnât personal. Have you talked to her since it happened?â
Although Charlie knows the right thing to do is to deter Christian from having apology-sex with the girl he tried to kill for being annoying, she finds that she can only laugh, holding a hand up to cover her pizza filled mouth. âYou make me proud.â Thereâs a hesitation as she mulls over his justification for the whole Harper thing. Charlotte shrugs a single shoulder. âI wouldnât say it wasnât a little personal, but I think the âcursedâ and âlimitâ were definitely two significant contributors. Not something Iâm proud of, either way.â She shoves another bite of pizza into her mouth to buy some time. âBriefly. I did apologize. I think weâre okay.â
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polarisrickiâ:
Charlie, Luca notices with a bit of gay distress, has a gorgeous smile. Luca finds her own grin spread a little, leaning onto the chair, then back, rocking from heel to toe as her thoughts circle towards her usual hiding places. âIf youâre looking for peace and quiet, letâs start with the tower,â she advises, because stars know Lucaâs typical crowd is far from calm and peaceful. Bes aside, Luca drifts towards people who are just as open and dauntless as she is. (And now thereâs Charlotte.) âOr, depending on how you feel about the water, I can show you my ship. Well,â she amends with an eye roll, âthis one isnât mine. But itâs abandoned and Iâm the only one who knows where it is, so itâs kind of mine.â With a gleam in her eye, Luca tacks on, âI havenât even told Bes about it yet.â Sheâll write him a letter of apology sooner or later.
Luca is a gift that keeps on giving. Charlotte mouths the word ship with her eyes a little wide, because of course Luca has claimed herself an abandoned ship. "Itâs kind of difficult to date Jemma Sterling and not like the water.â If her tone turns a little bitter as she says her exâs name, well. Ignore it. Anyway, never in a million years did Charlie think sheâd ever be hopping at the opportunity to hang out on an abandoned ship, but here she is, already gathering her belongings together. Even if she didnât like the water, Charlotte knows that look in Lucaâs eyes would be enough to quickly get her over those fears (such a useless gay). âI think Iâd be a fool to pass up the invitation to be the first to visit not-your ship.â She stands and shoulders her bag. âShall we?â
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polarisleighâ:
His ex-wife is as radiant and beautiful as ever, and for a moment, they could still be married. She could be popping into his office, he could send her on her way with a kiss and her coffee order, ever the dutiful husband. At least, he was until the love ran out and their jobs became their first priority.
After the curse invaded Polaris, Edward felt utterly useless. It was a possibility that someone from the human liaison department would come to help out. There was always the chance that it might have been Henri⊠but it was just a slap in the face to have that be the case.
âHenriette,â he greets her, nodding his head. âEver the charmer, as per usual.â Humble, too, he wants to add, but itâs doubly humiliating to fail at his job and have his ex-wife in on the game, too. âItâs a pleasure to see you, as always.â
He says it in jest, but Henriette takes it in stride, crossing the threshold into his office and closing the door behind her. While she has her moments, charming is not her default unless sheâs trying to fuck someone or get something, which âwell, on second thought, it might be worth flipping on now. She doesnât really think she has to be overly nice to him, though. If heâd just stuck to jackets...
Hm.
âIf I didnât know better, Iâd say you brought the curse on yourself just to see me again.â Once a little shit, always a little shit. Her eyes crinkle a bit in amusement at her own bullshit. âYou look good.â That oneâs not sarcasm, so Henry doesnât let it linger too long. She sinks into the chair across from his desk, crosses her legs, and looks up at her ex. âI assumed youâd have a few more gray hairs in the aftermath. Get that sexy salt and pepper look.â
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polarisrickiâ:
The coffee and donut clatter to the ground, scolding brown liquid splashing against her bare legs. Wren has the heel of her thumb caught between her teeth before sheâs even aware of it, stifling a scream, vision blurring with tears ââ whether sheâs crying from the burn or the humiliation, itâs still up in the air. She waits for it all to pass, for the world to right itself, unaware of how harshly her teeth dig into her hand. With the gloves on her hand, they donât pierce flesh, but she imagines them doing so, drawing blood that seeps into her mouth, coating her teeth red. She fucked it all up again. All she had to do was walk in a straight liâââ
Gentle fingers pry her hand from her mouth. Freya, whoâd been in the process of accepting the womanâs invitation, now stands in front of Wren, muttering a quiet spell to heal up the burns on her legs. Wrenâs cheeks burn with fresh embarrassment, but the blonde waves it off before it can arise. âYouâre fine,â she mutters, lips pulling into a small smile. Sheâs getting better at that. âWhy donât you give the tour? I can clean this up. I still have something to work on.â And itâs nothing more than a chance to escape the eyes that are now on Wren, she knows that, but she accepts it as it is, nodding with red cheeks and downcast eyes.
As Freya steps around her to gather napkins and clean up the mess, Wren wrings her hands in front of her and meets the eyes of the woman whoâd asked Freya for a tour. Wren shouldâve said no; she shouldâve let Freya do this. But Freyaâs already disappeared in search of a roll of paper towel and no one else is stepping up to the plate andâââ
Itâs not this complicated, Wren, just speak.
âHi,â she says, taking careful steps towards the woman, doing her best not to be the klutz that she is. âI, um⊠Iââ Iâm Wren. Dââ um, d⊠do you still want the, um, theââ the tour?â
Henriette canât help but watch the scene unfold in front of her, eyes drawn not to the mess on the ground but to the pure look of distress on the girlâs face. She knows her own gawking is probably making everything worse, but Henry isnât the poster child for tact, and sheâs still waiting on her answer, even if priorities have temporarily shifted. And so, eyebrow slightly raised, her attention unhelpfully floats between Wren and Freya.
Finally, things settle and Wren is taking her up on her offer.
Henry doesnât have a great deal of patience for nervous people, unless sheâs trying to break them. Then again, she comes from a cutthroat world where visible weakness was exploited, and then she grew into a career where she was the one exploiting weaknesses, and... even then, that was really only fun with men. And so, as sheâs faced with a clear nervous wreck of a girl, Henriette almost reconsiders, but then reminds herself that she ought not jump to conclusions, as she tends to do.
Offering a small, polite smile, Henry closes the lid to her laptop. âYes, please. Iâm Henry.â Grabbing her bag, she stuffs her things into it and stands. âIâm going to grab another coffee to go. What would you like?â A pause, and then Henriette allows herself to be kind of a dick. As a treat. âIâll make sure it has a lid.â
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polarisleighâ:
His hot boss knows exactly what to do to make him feel better, and a drink at Novaâs sidelined by a dance with said hot boss is just what the doctor ordered. Maybe itâs highly inappropriate, but he doesnât really care. Carmen is as much his friend as she is his boss. âYeah, but next roundâs on me for forcing you to deliver.â
Although Carmen knows where to draw the line, she does take pride in only hiring people that she gets along with personally. It does, at the very least, make it easier for her to call employees out on their shit without them getting mad at her, which she values. A night out to Novaâs isnât frequent, but also not unheard of. âOh, yeah. Totally. You absolutely owe me. I was going to wait to cash in, but if you wanna get it over with tonight, thatâs on you, Baby.â With a smirk, she flicks her hand to the door as the lock clicks and the sign flips to âClosed.â Carmen slams back the rest of her coffee quickly. âCan you grab the trash while I close up out here?â
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texts | glenn & carmen.
GLENN: Dishonor on YOU, dishonor on your COW!!!
GLENN: Oh. Iâm touched, hehe đđ»đđ»
GLENN: I donât even remember where this conversation began.
CARMEN: You leave my cow out of this.
CARMEN: Something about coffee, I think. I don't know why I always manage to bring my butt into conversations, but here we are.
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polarisamyâ:
Davis rubs his shoulder, not even pretending that her playful punch hadnât hurt. Maybe that was why people went to the gym? âSounds like somebody missed me,â he says missing just how serious the week had been for Carmen. His was the same as any other, if you ignored the world going insane around him, which he mostly did. âI was curse free and steering clear. Some guy handed me his keys talking about he needed to free himself from his worldly possessions, so I road tripped it to VegasâŠ.Or at least I was going to, but I couldnât figure out what the keys actually went to.â He scratches his head as he tries to figure it out again. âMight have been his post office box.â
Carmen narrows her eyes at Davis for a moment and considers calling him out for being a dick when sheâs trying to have a serious conversation with him, but she decides against it. She probably sounds batshit, anyway. His own anecdote prompts a winded laugh as she pinches the bridge of her nose. âIf youâd have fucked off to Vegas without me, weâd have some problems,â she stresses, because thatâs an important point that she needs to get across. âHonestly? I wonder if a cursed you would be all that different.â She cocks a small grin. âStill got the key? We might be able to figure it out, still.â
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Charlieâs knock against Professor OâBryneâs office door is anxiously soft, at first, and she quickly follows up with a second, slightly louder one thatâs actually audible. While sheâs not in the minority when it comes to students who favor Mercury, she can also see a part of herself in the woman; a drawing, healing presence, one who doesnât appear to seek out the company but seems to find it anyway. Itâs something that Charlie struggles with. At any rate, sheâs not often the type to seek out advice or bother a Professor, but today sheâs justâoverwhelmed, a little bit, maybe.
Quietly, she clears her throat. âProfessor? Sorry to bother you.â She offers a half-cocked smile. âDo you mind if I ask for your advice on something?â( @polarisdeeâ )
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sheâs a fucking angel on earth âżâ„âżâ„âż
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âAh, Edwardâ just the man I came to see.â Temperance falls into step with her friend, hooking her arm around the crook of his elbow. âI seem to have lost a button on the jacket you made for me last year. You wouldnât happen to have an extra, would you?â ( @polarisleighâ )
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âI donât know what it is you think youâre doing, but Iâd suggest you do it quietly.â ( @polarisbriâ )
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"What did you say, Dear?â Itâs said with more of an edge than Temperance intended; nothing that comes out of her mouth is ever pleasant, granted, but she hates the fact that she didnât hear them the first time around. Itâs not her companionâs fault, but sheâll make them feel like it is. âI need you to enunciate, for Hellâs sake.â ( @polarisjeanneâ )
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âYou know what? I donât care anymore. Tonight, Iâm drinking straight from the bottle and swimming with Jemmaâs damn dolphin.â Her tone is frazzled, in a way that suggests sheâs reached her threshold, but thereâs no hesitancy in her words. As she reaches the door, bottle of liquor in hand, she pauses briefly to throw a pointed look over her shoulder. âAre you coming?â ( @polarisjeanneâ )
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texts | charlie & emmett
CHARLOTTE: Gretchen told me you may have been looking for me today.
CHARLOTTE: Is everything alright?
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Charlotte is easily guilted into many things, but notoriously, she always winds up being the one who is automatically volunteered for bake sales. Itâs not even like sheâs a spectacular bakerâsheâs good, years of practice has solidified that, but sheâs not winning any competitions anytime soon, and sheâs fine with that. Yet, year after year, regardless of where she is, Charlie finds herself baking a ridiculous amount of something. Today, sheâs making several different things in large quantities, and she once again hates her whole life.
Sheâs in the middle of pulling something out of the oven when what she has on the stove on the opposite side of the kitchen begins to boil over; at that moment, she sees someone enter the room in her peripheral. Charlie doesnât take the time to see who it is before she speaks hurriedly. âCan you turn down that stove burner?â And then, a careless afterthought: âPlease.â ( @polarisbriâ )
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Dakota Johnson for Tatler magazine, 2018
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