Now we one, two, three, four, five shots deep

Sohalia

Not for the first time, Sohalia was about to be sorely disappointed by the lack of Koa 's lips pressing against hers. But for a moment - brief and beautiful - she could imagine him claiming her in a kiss, the world fading away around them, and then everything would be right as rain, the way it should have been all along. But of course, that was a fleeting fantasy, and then Koa was half-turning to grab a drink from the bar, leaving Soh feeling like there was something that would always just be missing between them.

But even though he turned to take a drink, he didn't move away, and she clung to that as she reached out to place a hand on his arm. There was still something triumphant and pleased in her gaze as she leaned towards him, closing the distance between them until her lips brushed against the shell of his ear. "I need to talk to you," she murmured, then pulled away, tilting her head towards the discreet door behind the bar, a question in her eyes.

if all of the days have no more light and all of our dreams are lost tonight

why icarus thought he'd find his place a little higher

She waits, like a little prize for Kaisel to take – curved against the bar top in open invitation. The corners of her wine red lips quirk into a small smile as she balances the lime delicately between her lips, and as he focuses on her, she feels as though she’s the only girl at the bar. His hand at her hip is igniting, warm and welcome, and she shifts underneath his hands to make it easier for him to claim the salt she’s so carefully placed, but the devilish dragoon dips lower to start (not that Caly will ever complain, nor even about the way he curves over her as if she belongs to him).

His tongue is hot as it starts low against her skin, rising higher with kisses and nips left behind that have her skin jolting as if his touch were electricity, sparking through her with soft little huffs that pass the tart citrus of the lime between her lips. But when he parts to down the shot, it feels like forever until he encroaches on her space again, the path his tongue and lips had taken feel cold in contrast, like the first plunge into the Miana Pool on a Deepfrost morning.

It doesn’t last long, though, hands braced back against the bar as he dives in again. His hands find her neck and her amber eyes are molten, burning with heat and pleasure as he tilts his hips into hers and she eagerly presses back, feeling the tilt of his head as her hands abandon the bar now that she’s comfortably in his own, to wrap her arms around his neck and guides him back toward her.

Just like that, his lips are on hers and she practically shivers, like a hot wire beneath his exploration as he snatches the lime but doesn’t leave her wanting. He’s smart, because she presses back into the kiss almost immediately. Not desperate. Claiming. And while his hand departs from her neck, her arms remain looped around his own, watching with a wrinkle of her nose with the bright smile she sends his way, charming and sunny as he bites the lime and rids himself of it.

She knows she’s delicious – all hot honey with enough spice to keep his heart racing. “Come ‘n get another sip, then.” Comes the challenge, before she isn’t giving him much of a choice, her arms tightening around his neck to drag him in and claim his lips with another kiss, back arched enough to be able to press her hips against him as if in silent promise. Everyone else around them for the moment is forgotten, or rather ignored for the brief moment where she gets to indulge in being someone else's sun.

Calypso

it's curious, the flame of the fire

the rumpus and ruckus are comfortable now

If she's the sun, he must be Icarus.

Calypso's touch is a blaze against him, the warmth of shots and the glow of the night's revelry pressing him into nothing but smiles and butter in her hands. It is not unwelcome, to let in this fire, to submit to it when there's been another flame he's been resisting time and time again until the absence of it, the cold of it, has left him with a different type of burn. With her, he can jump in as far as she'll let him, and currently that bottom doesn't seem present as she hunts for his mouth once more.

Her arms beckon him back with a tug, and like a collar slipped against him, he yields to that pull with obedience. She bows towards him and he dips down in turn to press into her, to feel that ignition slide against the connection of their bodies. He reaches his hands against either side of her hips, reverent in the touch as they drift and tug down her. He pulls from her lips, forehead pressing against hers, gaze drifting to the swell of her chest. His fingers splay, cupping around her ass, hoisting her up against the bar edge. His blonde wig slides off in the heat of it all, spilling against the counter, then the floor.

It settles like a reminder there in the corner of his eye, and he pauses in his need to devour her, or be devoured by her, while he's still got an ounce of wit to him. "Hey," he says under his breath to her, pulling away a hair so her can look at her, hands still taut on the sides of her. "Can you hold this thought real fast? We can find somewhere better suited," he grins and it's lopsided, buzzed on the drinks in the glass and on her lips. "But first, I promised someone a dance, and I don't break those."

Their group seems to be whittling down, sets finding each other and slipping away—like where the fuck did Koa and Sohalia go? He hadn't noticed them leave in the, well, everything. The both of them gone though? Looks like his cousin made a choice after all, if Kaisel had to guess. Then Vesper and Mateo are equally locked, and Flora had since stolen Theea for the dance floor. He was more than ready to take Caly out of here if the fun was breaking up, if he wasn't going to be abandoning Koa to bad thoughts and memories. But as he said, he had a promise to keep.

He tips Calypso's chin with a hand, flashes a grin, and slips away to the dance floor.

It doesn't take long to spot Flora, and he sidles up alongside her as Theea is given a lovely flourish. "Me next!" he quips with a laugh, one hand extending, palm up, for Flora to take. "I promised you a dance," he says with a faux bow. "Might I cash in, majesty?"

Kaisel

everybody come hang, let's go out with a bang

Theea

Yla

The beat finds my ribs like a second heartbeat, and I let it take me.

Dancing with my mom or my dad was never quiet. There was always guitar or singing, wind through pine or snow against cabin windows. Always laughter, hands held tight or spun loose in tiny kitchens or by campfires, in bare feet or half-laced boots. It never mattered what the space looked like—if there was a rhythm, mom pulled me into it. And maybe that’s what makes this so easy now. Even with the noise, even with the press of people and the dizzy glaze of shots behind my teeth, this feels like something I already know how to do.

I am not graceful in a ballroom way, or a seductive way. I am not Flora. But I know my body. I know the joy of moving just because I can, of forgetting what I look like and remembering how it feels to laugh until the muscles in my stomach ache. That’s the kind of dancing I do.

And I’m good at it. Not perfect, not polished, but good.

I throw myself into the rhythm beside Flora, spinning and swaying in the haze of music and glitter, letting it all bleed together until my cheeks are hot and my arms loose with motion. She twirls me and I laugh, loud and bright, the way sunlight slips through windows no one’s bothered to clean, all smeared gold and warmth.

She tells me with a whisper-shout how glad she is I'm here, and I beam. “Me too. Just don’t lose me,” I say—though I’m not sure if I mean it literally or not.

Everyone tonight shines in a way I don’t know how to mimic. Kaisel and Calypso, woven together like firelight and silk. Vesper and Mateo, orbiting each other like stars drunk on gravity. Koa and Sohalia, disappearing like a secret being kept. They all seem to belong to something, to someone.

I’ve got two hands carrying a heart full of hope, but nowhere to put it down.

And I’m trying. I’m really trying not to let that truth sit too heavy in my chest.

I keep thinking about what it means to really belong here—not just survive and show up to parties, but fit. I’ve lived in stories my mother told me about freedom and love and finding your people. I believed in them. But stories don’t teach you what to do when everyone around you already has their chapters half-written.

But mom taught me, whether she meant to or not, that the hardest thing to fight isn’t a monster—it’s being alone. Being forgotten. It’s walking into a room and seeing the world turn without you. That’s the thing you have to cut through, she said. That’s what’ll kill you—if you don’t learn to love the people who walk beside you.

I won’t let a party scare me. I won’t let glitter and kisses and the fact that I’ve never done a body shot in my life stop me from dancing. Especially when Flora’s holding my hand and spinning me through the haze like I do belong here. I’m still laughing when Kaisel steps up, all grins and bows and flirtatious timing, and I blink—genuinely surprised he’s left Calypso’s side. “You two took a break?” I tease, flashing a crooked grin.

I feel the sting of something—jealousy, maybe. But not the kind that ruins. Just the ache of watching people who already know how to fit together. I envy them both—Flora for having someone who knows her so well, and Kaisel for being that person. That kind of closeness is gold in the dark. But it’s not going to ruin the night. Not when the air is thick with bass and sweat and possibility. Not when alcohol is still smoldering in my chest. Not when the lights are turning the bar into a prism, scattering color like it’s trying to convince us we’re all stars. Not when I’m still warm from Flora’s hand, and still steady from her laughter.

occupation: aspiring beam of light

we show off our different scarlet letters

Flora glances briefly past Kaisel ’s shoulder, catching sight of Calypso still lounging decadently against the bar, shimmering beneath the low lights, looking like the kind of trouble people write songs about. Around her, a cluster of admirers—men and women alike—are eyeing her like she's the last shot of whiskey at the end of a very long night.

Flora’s heart gives a quick, sharp twist, something tight and complicated pressing just beneath her ribs. But the rules are the rules, and Flora is nothing if not fiercely committed to her own goddamn promises—even if it means swallowing back the ache, even if it means ignoring the way Kaisel’s smile makes something flutter traitorously inside her chest because what a fucking stupidly good guy he is.

So instead of taking his hand, she reaches out and smacks it lightly, turning the gesture into a playful high-five that lands with a cheerful clap. "I'll always be here, Assborn," she calls into his ear, voice pitched to carry over the pulse of the music, sharp and sassy, hiding the tender bruise she won't admit to feeling. "But she might not be. Go get the girl, dummy."

Her smile is dazzling, even if the words feel like sandpaper against the back of her throat, and she punctuates them by giving his shoulder a little shove toward Caly, like it’s a command he absolutely can't disobey. Then, without letting herself watch him leave, Flora spins back to Theea, looping their arms together and pulling her cousin deeper into the heat and press of bodies.

She spins Theea again, her laughter rising louder than the bass that vibrates through the floor, desperately grateful for the warmth of her cousin’s hand in hers, for the easy, uncomplicated joy in her smile—because maybe tonight belongs to everyone else, but Flora will fight tooth and nail to carve out this one little space, this one glittering moment, that belongs entirely to them.

maybe smoking one more cigarette won't turn your lungs to ashes

Vesper doesn’t need to look to know what’s happening at the bar. The thoughts coming off Calypso and Kaisel are a furnace—desire, hunger, heat chased by a pulse of rising tension that’s far too vivid for his liking. Normally, Caly’s fire is something he skirts around out of sibling respect. But Kaisel’s mind? That’s new, that’s sharp, and it’s full of images Vesper has no interest in sampling.

Because it’s not just the usual swirl of lust—it’s Kaisel undressing her in his head. Thinking things he has no business thinking about his sister. Even if Caly seems plenty willing to be devoured, Vesper has exactly zero interest in being a telepathic third wheel for whatever the hell this is about to become. But when Kaisel’s thoughts stutter mid-heat, pulling back with the words hold that thought in favour of going to dance with Flora of all people, Vesper almost laughs aloud. He doesn’t. But the look that flickers across his face is pure dry disbelief as he parts briefly enough from Mateo to shoot his sibling a look. Best of fuckin’ luck, idiot, he thinks, turning away.

Leaning down until his mouth just brushes Mateo’s ear, Vesper murmurs, "The Hanged Man’s got more’n one back room, y’know." His voice is low, velvet-rich and coaxing, threaded with quiet intent. I say we borrow one."

Then he’s stealing another kiss—not hurried, not wild, but deep and slow. Possessive. A promise written in lips and breath and the flicker of his shadows curling protectively around Mateo’s back. And when he pulls away, it’s only to guide him—fingers laced through curls, the other hand catching his wrist as he steps backward into the hallway, drawing the botanist with him.

They disappear into the dark like a secret, the sound of the party fading behind them. Vesper’s shadows stretch just far enough to close the door and lock it behind them.

---

Vesper and Mateo out ! Make ur own drinks.

But all it takes is gas to burn a city down with matches

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

why icarus thought he'd find his place a little higher

The blonde wig is an afterthought, because at least now she has a chance to run her fingers through his dark hair as she’s hoisted up onto the bar, fully ready to dive in, legs just in the process of wrapping around him, when everything pauses – leaving the heat of the moment in suspense.

"Can you hold this thought real fast?"

For fucking what?

“Y’really think it’s that big of a deal?” Caly asks when he tips her chin up, her brows pinching and her amber gaze suddenly aflame with frustration, hands dropping from him instantly because he’s zooming off to dance with Flora and fuck, if that wasn’t just a complicated mess that leaves her craving a lot more alcohol and a stiff breeze to let the heat of the moment flow through her.

Her brother’s leaving with that parting look, too, one that has her practically deflating as she huffs and slips from the edge of the bar where Kaisel has abandoned her, slinking back behind the bar to pour a few more drinks and help Nova out, while also taking another shot for herself, the heat of the moment burning out in her limbs in a way that makes them feel heavy and stiff.

Calypso

it's curious, the flame of the fire

the rumpus and ruckus are comfortable now

He flashes a wink at Theea in answer, the curl of his lips satisfied, especially with the lingering tingle of Calypso's fervor. His attention doesn't linger long from Flora, though the resounding smack of their hands echoes hollowly inside him, a dip of confusion coasting over his 'brow. No dance?

Some part of him deflates at that. He's barely seen Flora tonight, hasn't even shared a drink or really a laugh, and he expected that, to some degree. She's too bright to remain contained, too treasured, if this turn out to celebrate her is any indication—much less the many others that hold her dear but simply couldn't make it tonight. She is loved, by many, so it shouldn't come as a surprise or a bruise that she doesn't need his silly promises or his company. It shouldn't, but it does.

Caly? He doesn't want to hurt her, wants her, but gods he barely knows her. Friendship over fling, always. Crew before screw, squad before bod, mates before dates, whatever you want to call it, it'll always be friends and family first—hell, he'd take a lightning strike for them. Currently Caly doesn't fall into either. Maybe she could, if given a chance, but here, now, when he has a promise to fulfill, that he wants to fulfill, at his besties party? It'll definitely be Flora before more-a, Flo-ro before side-show.

He's no telepath. In fact, he could even be accused of not being very good at picking up subtle signs, or just zero subtlety and associated aspects in any manner. So he's got no reason to believe that she isn't having the time of her life out here on the dance floor, that she hasn't turned a hard night into something shimmering with joy. Other than the fact that she does this—pretends, pushes what she thinks is best even if it sacrifices herself. She's done it with Koa and Soh, even if he tried to convince her otherwise, he just doesn't think she'd do it with him. Doesn't think she has a reason to.

One of his hands presses on the back of his neck, ruffling the hair there that's been matted down by the wig. "O-okay," he says with that crooked smile, though it doesn't fully reach his eyes. Don't. If ever there needed to be sprinkles on something, this celebration is it. He pushes the grin wider, like her dismissal is a gift. "Gotta get this dog his bone," and he releases a loud "A-A-AWOOOO" to really add the ridiculous flourish that confirms he's gucci.

As he turns to leave, he throws one lingering glance over his shoulder, "We're running in the morning though secret ingredient!"

He leans back on the bar where Caly is moving glasses around with a bit more weight than is needed, the cups hitting the counter with an extra clip. He's not apologetic—he'd do the same thing again if given the choice, even knowing Flora refused him, he needed to offer—but he's here now. No Vesper, huh?

After watching for a moment he hops up on the bar and swings his legs around behind the counter. He offers her and Nova a smile, "lemme help. I've never made a drink, but I can do whatever you tell me." I'm a good boy.

Kaisel

everybody come hang, let's go out with a bang

why icarus thought he'd find his place a little higher

She gets back to work in an easy rhythm, frustration wrought in each movement and flick of her wrist. She doesn’t look back to Kaisel as she works, at least not until he ends up back in her line of sight – hopping up onto the bar and swinging around while giving her sister and her a smile. His offer is one she jumps on immediately, because if he’s going to make her wait, she’s going to put him to work.

And she does. Between making the final call of drinks, instructions of which glasses to put ice and how much to shake the tin, how to garnish with a spritz of lemon and to light the citrus of the orange peel, the end of the night is in sight right when Flora deems it closed. And once she’s sure the glasses are clean (or at least in the sink to be dealt with later), Caly turns to Kaisel, flashing him a slightly too sharp smile as she reaches up to press her hand to his chest, pushing him back a touch against the bar. She might be short, but she makes up for it in fire and fierceness, and as her amber gaze lifts to his face, her request is promising as it is demanding.

“You’re gonna make it up to me, aren’t you?” Aimed like a question, though it’s anything but, Caly smirks as she releases him. “Come along, then.” Be a good boy.

- FIN

Calypso

it's curious, the flame of the fire