Spinning out of control somewhere on the road to happiness

Colt

Cold nights, a sleight of hand
No trace of innocence, long gone, long gone
I've been tangled up, I've been wrangling up heathens
I've been double-cupped neck-up in the deep end

"YOU FIEND!" The raucous accusation is immediately cut away with a streak of laughter that attempts to light up the cavern as readily as the lanterns. The stone hollows carry it down, the bounce fading with distance and repetition until it sounds little more than ghosts tittering to themselves out of sight. The poker table erupts into a roar of defensive chatter and thumping fists, but Colt has retreated back against her chair, letting the chaos brew while she slouches in obvious defeat.

Kicking the cards away with her fingers, the dealer cleans the table and deals another round. ”I’ve got you this time, fucker,” she informs before she’s claimed her hand, arrogance carving her lips into a tilted, devious shape. Pulling her cigarette from the edge of her mouth, she peeks down at her cards, smoke billowing out in a purposeful haze as she exhales long and slow. ”Mmhmmmm,” she hums with a fresh sweetness.

Nudging her bet into the middle with the heel of her glass, she tilts the drink back eagerly. Around the edge of the drink, her gaze cuts across the table, watching. The merry air can turn on a dime with this lot, and she’s fairly sure the man she called out before is on too good of a lucky streak to be anything short of a cheat.

---

They all know it's the wrong road
But they still go, they still go
Fucking long days getting longer
And the dark days getting darker

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

Relief is hard to find in Torchline, even when the options are twice as plentiful as any other region. Hotaru has long wrinkled her nose at alcohol - unable to fully move past dark memories and the scent on someone else's breath. It isn't her preferred vice. But sex feels pretty ruined for her right now, Frey demigod status be damned, so that leaves violence and manipulation as her other preferred coping mechanisms. Violence isn't as easy when you're a half-god who can kill someone if you punch them wrong, so cards it is.

It would be as easy as twitching a finger to appear as someone else tonight, but she had realized - what would be the benefit? She is a nameless ghost to most people in Caido these days, domesticated as she'd been in the meadows of King's End. So she lets herself appear as she is, magical glow and spun sunlight hair and all. It ensures people flock to her - usually men, unsurprisingly - and equally blinds them to any mischief she causes at the table.

A woman's voice hollering from nearby turns her head a fraction of an inch. At her ankle, Andraste's neck winds around her calf to investigate on her behalf. Hotaru sits back in her chair as the round ends, smiling beatifically while she gathers her winnings and soothes any disgruntled feelings with a soft coo that rolls through her glossed lips, "I'm sorry boys, I guess it's my lucky night. Care for refills? You'll still benefit from your own coin a bit longer." If she cares to actually pay for the round; she doesn't need the money, but half the fun is getting away with blatant use of her magic.

Begging off another game, she leaves the table in a graceful departure that she doesn't waste - disappearing into the surrounding bodies before disgruntled competitors can let the emotion stew long enough to consider acting on it. Many people stand around watching various games, and she slides through them easily with her petite stature. At least until the voice from before tickles at her ear again, making Ru's lips twitch in a brief betrayal of her confusion that leads her to Colt's table.

And it is Colt, out of place as she seems in Torchline. Though, Hotaru had heard about the ranch burning down. Is she indulging in vices too? But why here, and not in King's End? Curiosity mingles with the inherent hurt that stings through her chest at the mere thought of King's End, Sunjata directly on the heels of it. She'd hardly gotten to know Colt beyond pleasantries, but seeing the fellow blonde here, just as alone as the Valkyrie, sparks some sort of manic response in Ru that has her sidling up behind the man at the other side of the table from Colt. Heterochromatic eyes flick briefly toward the other woman - catching meaningfully, but as quickly as she can manage - before sliding her arm across the back of the man's shoulders, leaning in with a perfectly crafted expression of flirtatious intrigue.

"Mind if I watch from here? Maybe I can learn a few tricks," she titters a laugh, glad when he takes the bait with a leering smile and wraps an arm around her waist to pull her closer. So long as she doesn't move around the table she can't be accused of aiding any particular player - but Hotaru can do that without moving an inch. She just needs to time it right and Colt will walk away with at least one winning hand. From beneath, Andraste moves to Colt's side and curls around one of the legs of her chair, pale eyes nearly luminescent from the shadows under the table as they watch her.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

Colt

Cold nights, a sleight of hand
No trace of innocence, long gone, long gone
I've been tangled up, I've been wrangling up heathens
I've been double-cupped neck-up in the deep end

Her cigarette nearly tumbles free of the slack grip of her lips as her gaze finds it's Hotaru who's spilling across the scallywag. The sudden warm coil of the ash against her wrist reminds her to catch herself, and Colt pinches the filter back between her grin, inhaling with a flick of her hand to scatter the burnt remnants away. "Shit, save some luck for the rest of us," Colt begs playfully of the cheat, clearly meaning the impressively hot woman draped around him could be earned in no other manner. This, of course, earns an invitation from one of the chums near her who’d love to cozy up closer to her. She ignores the jeer, far too interested in the woman across from her.

Colt's gaze slides over the sultry angle Hotaru has spun herself into, as handy as a gold chain with how supple and curved she can make herself, which is far less to do with her abilities and much more to do with her stretching routine, Colt would wager. It's curiosity that drags her amber stare along the other sex demigod, one she knows far less well and nowhere near as intimately, although she supposes if there's any woman she might do more than appreciate and envy, Hotaru would be the one. Envied and appreciated too, to be sure.

Why is she here, and why might she be trying to help? Two things Colt hopes to suss out before long, but she’s not able to keep eye contact any longer without giving more away than her initial surprise had. Instead, she resumes her lazy lounge in the chair, pulling her cigarette away with another exhale of smoke and purpose. She doesn’t miss the flash of eyes beneath her table, catching them as surely as a switchblade gleams in lanternlight amid the dark, but this knife is not aiming to gut her, or so she’d like to think.

Biting back her smile, Colt nudges more money into her bet as the flop reveals the three community cards. ”No bitch bets, c’mon boys,” Colt calls out as she sips again at her drink. Nonchalantly, her eyes travel around the whole table, breezing across Hotaru and flicking briefly to the ones lingering beneath her.

They all know it's the wrong road
But they still go, they still go
Fucking long days getting longer
And the dark days getting darker

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

Colt is unflappable, the jeering and leering washing off her shoulders like water split by the rock of her gaze locked to Hotaru's. If the Valkyrie was not set on helping the rancher win her current hand, she'd have sidled up against the other woman instead; see if saving horses and riding cowboys still held true with no horses or boys in sight. Hotaru has never been one to miss an opportunity to shoot her shot.

Alas, she has to ruin someone else's instead. As the man slides back enough to pat his thigh, she swings her legs over them and curls her arms comfortably around his shoulders, fingertips playing with the admittedly greasy ends of his hair. A temporary sacrifice. Her eyes move in natural, laconic arcs between the man between her claws and his cards, trusting Andraste's eyes to remain on Colt in her stead. Or rather, now that she'd been acknowledged, the men nearest to the rancher. Hotaru would hardly need the help should things go wrong but a little insurance never goes amiss.

Colt's jab is the perfect timing for Hotaru, tilting her head to smile down at the man with hooded eyes. "I think that was a challenge, don't you?" Moving her lips closer to his ear, her petal-pink mouth curls into a smile where he can't see, magic twisting across her tongue as she says, "Go all in."

It's as easy as taking candy from a baby, his arrogance making him predisposed to her compulsion and providing no barriers against it that would otherwise make him blink twice or appear befuddled. Instead his grin is arrogant as he shoves all of his earnings forward with a sweep of his forearm, tightening the other around Ru's waist. As the prevailing winner at the table she doesn't see a need to compel any of the other players even in partiality. Instead she crosses her legs neatly where they're splayed over her prey's lap, revealing the golden skin of her thigh from beneath the side slit of her skirt which immediately magnetizes the man's hand to it. Just another distraction - and one that hides the glint of Ru's eyes as they travel back in another brief glance towards Colt.

This time she winks, confident of the cover of assumed antagonism from anyone at the table.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

Colt

Cold nights, a sleight of hand
No trace of innocence, long gone, long gone
I've been tangled up, I've been wrangling up heathens
I've been double-cupped neck-up in the deep end

The moment Hotaru picks up her goad and sends it home, Colt is assured of this unexpected alliance. She could still be played, she supposes, the Valkyrie angling for the long game to make her drop her defenses and land a clean pounce later. A believable end, if Hotaru means to lash out at anyone connected to Sunjata, not that there's sense to it, but when have broken hearts ever made sense? Colt would wager that's not the case though, and while she ordinarily isn't the type to gamble, she's in such a state of ruin that placing bets hardly seems the worst to happen now. If Hotaru wanted to hurt her, there's far easier ways to go about it than buttering her hands on a man's unwashed head. This is a show of friendship in force, and Colt means to make the most of it.

"Thaaaaat's more like it," Colt praises, because gods know men need their ego stroked near as much as their dick. Not that the cheat needs much more revving up, but it's enough bluster to make the rest of the table fold. Something is happening here, they can tell, and though they're not wise to Hotaru, they want no part of the showdown that's lining itself up across the table. Working her smile out around the curve of her filter, Colt leans in on a hand, her wrist folding neatly beneath her chin. She slides her own full earnings forward, and the dealer finishes setting out the river. She happens to have a decent hand, her threat about getting him as much show as truth. He'd normally have backed down from such confidence, kept his winnings in his lap, but with Hotaru's pressure, he's risked it all.

Colt clicks her tongue as she turns her cards over, fanning out a straight flush. He could still beat her, but she can already see by the shadow in his eyes, that she's got him. Two pair, as sad as the balls shrinking up between his thighs. "Oh, that means I won, huh?" Colt dabs off her cigarette in her drink, chair sliding back with the grind of wood on stone as she stands up. Leaning over the table to reap her rewards, and all of his for that matter, she can't bite back the lopsided grin that tugs at her. "Been a pleasure, boys," she drawls, gaze lifting to the Valkyrie.

Maybe that's what set off the spark in him. Maybe it always would have come to a tantrum for one used to rigging and getting away with it. But in a blink the lousy cheat is upsetting Hotaru to leap across the table. Colt suspected as much, but she didn't glimpse the grab coming from her side, the man she'd blatantly ignored earlier. A friend of his, maybe, or just an opportunist to grab some tit when the shit blows up. Either way, Colt's laid out on the ground with enough force to rob her of breath, but that hardly dulls the surge to fight back. Her legs swing around, not to free herself, but to clamp down around the brute holding her, spurs digging in hard and rolling up with a viciousness she's only ever saved for the two-legged. It's enough to send him howling and folding like a shrimp, allowing her to gasp and grasp for some ground.

They all know it's the wrong road
But they still go, they still go
Fucking long days getting longer
And the dark days getting darker

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

There's little for Ru to do once the trap is set but keep her prey distracted with the press of her body against his side and the hum of her laughter in his ear. Colt does the rest; the moment she lays her cards, Ru knows she doesn't have to compel the man to fold without a reveal - the win is fair. Only the winnings are not. But is the pot not repayment for his cheating, swindling ways? Surely Hotaru is just playing Robin Hood for a woman down on her luck.

The reveal has the Valkyrie pursing her lips and flashing a displeased expression to keep up appearances, huffing pettily. Clearly the man must be the impulsive sort - or just really in need of the money - because he lunges for Colt from across the table the moment the last syllable is out of her mouth. Ru catches herself on her feet after being dislodged, gripping the edge of the table to keep herself oriented (though it nearly topples under the man's weight and momentum).

Colt goes down fast and hard, taken by surprise. As the glint of her metal spurs catch in the torchlight, Ru's magic latches onto her target to amplify his pain right before he's struck. His shriek echoes in the tunnel system of the Fingers, expressing a level of agony that even Colt's strong legs and weaponized heels shouldn't have been able to cause.

Andraste leaps from beneath the table to defend the woman's head, ivory teeth bared in a snarl. "Freeze!" Ru snaps at the original man she'd been swindling lest he make it fully over the table to outnumber Colt, snagging at her bag strap from where she'd set it beside the table leg and snatching an ice sphere out of it to throw it on the far side of Colt, knocking the rising grunts down in a blast of exploding ice and keeping them at bay with the 15 feet of frozen sand it leaves behind.

Now just to deal with these two, it seems. Hardly something two beautiful women can't handle, right?

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

Colt

Cold nights, a sleight of hand
No trace of innocence, long gone, long gone
I've been tangled up, I've been wrangling up heathens
I've been double-cupped neck-up in the deep end

Oh, that shrimp is fried. He’s either sunburnt beneath his clothes and her irons really did a number on already sensitive skin, or he’s found himself on the cursed end of Hotaru’s metaphorical kiss. Colt doesn’t plainly give a damn about the why in this moment, too busy clawing herself back into breath and balance.

She flips over, kicking away to give herself distance, ice exploding in a brilliant blast of cold and reflection nearby that she darts her attention towards briefly. Controlled and aimed at the men, so she’s safe, and that’s all she needs to know. Her gaze flashes back to the crustacean nearest her, dangerously dark as it lands on him from behind the dragon that’s bristling between them, a welcome barrier as she inhales roughly. She might be down, but all he’s done is piss her right off. ”You piece of shit,” she sneers, the sound more broken than she’d like, but the fury carries it clear enough.

Rising back to her feet, knife slipped from the space between her ankle and boot, she flicks the switchblade open and rolls it against her palm. Wiping grit from the corner of her mouth with the back of her other hand, she takes in the full scene now. Hotaru’s got it well under thumb, no surprise there, but now that their egos are bruised, the two men seem intent on doubling down further. ”You don’t really wanna get bloody today, d’ya Hotaru?” Colt calls over to the Valkyrie without losing the lock of her eyes on the man who’s also found his feet.

She exhales. It’s a slow, steadying breath, the kind she uses to sharpen her air just before she releases her arrow. ”I go high, you go low,” she says on her next breath, soft and subtle to the dragon just before she steps forward into the stone and flicks her wrist. She’s much better long range than short, but years of playing at knife throwing in taverns have certainly paid off one way or another, and her dagger goes sailing for the shithead’s shoulder.

She uses that opening to duck to the side and grab her bow and quiver of the back of her chair, swiftly nocking one and lifting it up with the target on the cheat across the table, swiveling to the linebacker near her, unsure which might need the shaft first, depending how Andraste and Hotaru move into this dance.

They all know it's the wrong road
But they still go, they still go
Fucking long days getting longer
And the dark days getting darker

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

In the scant seconds they're provided Ru's eyes sharply scan the other tables for any interlopers, satisfied with the Torcher mentality she sees at work; half already gone, the other half firmly averting their gazes or packing up for alternative tunnels with a little less action. The gleam of Colt's knife draws her gaze immediately back to the maelstrom, the man on the table red-faced from fighting against her magic whilst suffering the agonizing kickback that the resistance brings him. Using the blunt of her fist, she hammers down at the back of his head (careful not to kill him with too much force) and knocks him out clean as quickly as she can to take him out of the running. He's even more pitifully grotesque when splayed out like a cheap hog on the table; her natural grimace at the sight provides the perfect dripping derision as Colt calls out to her.

"Hardly, they're not worth the dry cleaning," she sniffs, poise an illusory curtain to vanish behind as her eyes track the gaggle of men - now uncertain and unconfident - eyeing the sheet of ice keeping them temporarily at bay.

Andraste flicks her tail like a furious cat to signal her agreement without betraying their new partnership. As woman and dragon spring in tandem, the Valkyrie moves in their wake, fur overtaking skin. She clears the icy bridge in one leap just past Colt's back, feline eyes and bared teeth glinting as she sends the men scattering to avoid her landing.

Andraste sails low in contrast, teeth shredding the man's Achilles tendon without remorse. With only one target on their side of the line now, Andraste remains low, nimbly avoiding the kick and flail of the man's boots as he gropes frantically at the dagger in his shoulder at the same time.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

Colt

Cold nights, a sleight of hand
No trace of innocence, long gone, long gone
I've been tangled up, I've been wrangling up heathens
I've been double-cupped neck-up in the deep end

When she swings her sights around on the slumped figure that’d caused all this, her grin races up the side of her face as if flame set there, adrenaline all the gasoline she needs. It’s a thrill that nips eagerly at her nerves, herding away everything that’d been heavy and cold as cleanly as a cattle dog on a cow. Her bad mood might be bellowing somewhere inside her still, but it’s been put into motion, quick decisions and confidence rolling back in neat as they ever were. All this time she’d been trying to fuck herself back straight, but it turns out she just needed to fuck someone over.

Could be the company too. Misery likes to keep a friend, but good times benefit equally from an audience. ”Don’t even think about it,” Colt warns, her voice as taut as her bowstring as she turns her aim back around on her good buddy nearest her. She pointedly directs her arrow tip to his crotch, brows lifting as if in dare. He’s in ragged shape, face twisted up in agony after the thorough clipping from the dragon. Whatever smart thought he might have had about reaching for the dagger dissipates, especially when over Colt’s shoulder, the last fringes of potential backup have scattered from the sleek lion that leapt between them all.

Her tongue clicks, a sound that speaks plain to the poor hand he’s holding. ”Gotta know when to fold,” she advises, and there’s something almost lamenting the hard learning of that lesson for him. ”Drop the dagger and get got.” Her arm and arrow move as one, directing towards the ground before zeroing in back on the last goods he’s got left. Fucking crazy skanks he shouts at them, sniveling as the metal slides from the meat of his body.

He throws the dagger down with a sloppy clang, eyes burning with a hate that stretches her grin taller just before he turns to limp away.

They all know it's the wrong road
But they still go, they still go
Fucking long days getting longer
And the dark days getting darker

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

The grit of sand under her paws and the intensified scent of blood and sweat and grime against the roof of her fang-filled mouth is a predatory high she hasn't indulged in for far too long. Like a viper, her tail lashes threateningly, the glow of hazel surrounding razor-thin pupils an unblinking threat that tracks the retreating men who had tried to take advantage of a situation that had never included them to begin with. Vultures, really. Opportunistic fools; and it seems Colt suffers fools as readily as Hotaru does. She leaps back toward Colt to offer her assistance, but it becomes clear in a matter of seconds that it's entirely unneeded.

The Valkyrie shifts back to better witness the denouement of their encounter, smirk subtle and indulgent as the cat lingers beneath her skin. Andraste leaps and glides over the ice between them to coil around her ankles with a pleased hum in her scaled throat that echoes in Hotaru's moments later.

"Not quite the ending I'd hoped for when I joined your game, but if the winnings are the same, who are we to bemoan the middle parts?" One fingernail transforms into a wicked claw, only to pry sand from underneath the other meticulously groomed free edges of her human ones, flicking it away with vacant distaste. Sauntering over to the table, she hauls the unconscious lard by the back of his shirt as if he weighs nothing, and drops him unceremoniously on the ground to gain access to the winnings he'd been draped over like a roosting hen. "I believe these are rightfully yours, gorgeous. Care to take them and find better company? Perhaps mine?" The offer is extended with a smile that is more mist and mystery than honesty, curiosity the only distinguishable gleam in her bright eyes.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

Colt

Cold nights, a sleight of hand
No trace of innocence, long gone, long gone
I've been tangled up, I've been wrangling up heathens
I've been double-cupped neck-up in the deep end

Colt watches him hobble away, arrow still drawn, gaze still burning until she starts to lose him in the dark of the caverns. She hears the shifting of the demigod beside her, both in placement and skin, and soon thereafter the solid thump of dead weight being cleared. The scene breaks apart like a cracker in water, fragments gone soggy and dispersing, sinking or floating apart, until nothing whole is left or recognizable. How this had even been a poker game moments before, she no longer knows.

Relenting the tension of her bow with an ache in her arm that nears fire for holding the trigger so longer, she releases it with a breath. Not a relief, not exactly, more like a release. Like highstrung bitterness and rage finally given somewhere to land besides lashing at her own body, and now the freedom from it feels like something new, even though it’s merely something she forgot. Normal can change so fast, and even horrors can become routine.

”No?” Colt smirks, inclining her head towards the Valkyrie. ”Here I was thinking I might invite you to all my poker games from now on.” The easy shape Hotaru makes against the table, utterly unruffled and already back to languid like they’d done little more than rearrange some furniture instead of egos, is enough to flare Colt’s smile wider.

Slipping her unused arrow and bow back behind her, Colt stoops only to reach her sullied blade. ”I’d say you won just as much of it. Fifty-fifty.” Standing up with a brief glance around, Colt steps in towards the only soul unfortunate enough to still be here, the fat lump snoozing still, maybe even playing pretend at this point, like he’s heard that’s the best choice when descended upon by bears. ”Which is not payment for your company,” Colt remarks with a dry laugh as she leans down to wipe the blood off on the man’s shirt before sliding the blade back between boot and pant leg. Turning, she extends a hand towards Hotaru, fingers ready to curl around the other set of freshly cleaned ones belonging to the Valkyrie. ”Though I’d be grateful for it all the same. Drinks?” It’s Torchline, so there’s surely a bar not far from here.

They all know it's the wrong road
But they still go, they still go
Fucking long days getting longer
And the dark days getting darker

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

From behind, Ru indulgently watches the flexed muscle of Colt's tricep relax from the prolonged bow-draw, pleased as punch with how this evening had gone despite the utter derailment. It's a damn shame she didn't visit that ranch more often. Maybe she still offers trail rides like those sad gimmicky business models that target parents trying to reconnect with their kids who hate them? Ru doesn't exactly fit that criteria, but whatever Colt's new business venture might be, she trusts it will be less brain-numbing than that.

Perking up visibly at the idea, the Valkyrie laughs; it sweeps through her without a second thought, bright and amused, and she leaves herself stunned in its wake because of it. It's the first time it's happened since she woke up on that cliffside. It's...nice.

"We'd grow tired of our millions, don't you think? We'd have to start getting creative to avoid detection," she simpers, hand rising as if to flick her long golden hair over her shoulder, only to do so at a quarter speed - showboating the way dark brunette shades cascade from root to tip, following the passage of her hand until the tips trickle off her wrist to land back at her waist, leaving the Valkyrie a much different looking woman. But, ah, always the same coy smirk.

Watching - again, indulgently - as Colt crudely wipes her knife against the slug's shirt, Hotaru waves away the offer with a graceful flick of her hand that accompanies her straightening off from the table. "Nonsense, I only wandered over to make sure you won. I have no need of it." In more ways than one frankly. That confidence is what has her extending an elbow, stepping over the unconscious figure on the floor without breaking eye contact with Colt. "Drinks indeed. There's a great pop-up oceanside bar just outside of the Fingers. Good business, buttering up a deal before it ever goes down." The bartenders are easy to sway so long as you don't pin the trouble on their heads, greased palms leading to over-pours and spiked drinks. Luckily, Ru and Colt have no such targets on their heads.

Andraste prowls just ahead as the Valkyrie sweeps them out of the cavern and into the crisp air beyond, stagnant smells whisked away to be replaced with sea breeze cold enough to burn inside the nose. Just as promised, the beachside bar stands just beyond the reach of high tide, dune grass trampled by frequent visitors. Luckily, tonight there aren't too many; the girls have had enough run ins for at least another hour surely.

Sliding onto a well-worn barstool (she's mastered the art of doing so gracefully, in a way that hides how short she is) the Valkyrie leans partially onto the bar, breasts perfectly aligned across her forearms to call the bartender to heel without lifting a hand. "Two Bee's Knees dear, if you will? I'll pay extra, I know it's a bit of a hassle," she promises before so much as an annoyed crease can fissure the man's brow. Tilting her head to rest her cheek on the swell of her shoulder, she peers past it with eyes shadowed by the low lamplight and absent sun, lit only by her own inner radiance. Even now the dark hair and near-black eyes stick around. "If it's not to your taste I'll take yours, no harm done. You seem like a whiskey girl, I confess. Perhaps beer? Certainly nothing a fancy Torchline cocktail bar could offer." It's an easy build into the question that's been sitting on her tongue for nearly an hour now. One that's released as their drinks are slid across into their waiting hands.

"Seems we're both far from King's End - and I never expected that of you. You surprised me, and that makes me curious. So...what happened?"

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide

Colt

Cold nights, a sleight of hand
No trace of innocence, long gone, long gone
I've been tangled up, I've been wrangling up heathens
I've been double-cupped neck-up in the deep end

The absolute confidence that radiates off Hotaru is one Colt is more than willing to sink into, a familiar current she’s happy to be tugged along on. She’s forgotten the feel of it lately, but it slides now like a bicycle seat never truly forgotten, although that’s always been the saddle for her. She’s tripped herself too many times to count lately, and shaken loose a good deal of her trust—in others, in her decisions. Having a win finally feels like she’s finally hit a stride again, and fuck it couldn’t come fast enough. Her steady descent into ruin was starting to feel inescapable after everything. It’s one thing to set the world on fire, it’s another to burn alive.

Laughter creeps in light and easy. Maybe it won’t last, but tonight it sure feels nice to remember it. ”Oh, you have no idea.” Her tone sharpens with intent, although she doesn’t mean to reveal her hand just yet, even if Hotaru brushed rather close to the vest there, in regards to making millions and how to avoid getting caught. She leaves it at that for now as they instead gather their present winnings and things, Colt not arguing like some good-natured fool about the money beyond the first offer. Scraping it into her purse, she shrugs, ”suit yourself, but first round’s on me at least.” She owes Hotaru that at the bare minimum.

Happy to let the Valkyrie lead as they cut loose from this shithole, Colt can’t help but keep a watchful eye out until they fully exit the caverns and settle at the bar. Gutless cowards like those boys, they’re the kind to gather a posse and come back, like round two with a bunch of friends isn’t proof they’ve already lost.

Thankfully they make it without fuss, and with far less elegance but no less familiarity, Colt slumps into her bartsool alongside the demigod. Her arm leans over the bartop, elbow anchoring in place as her head tilts into the seat of her palm. Quite without meaning to, but with no shame for it, Colt’s gaze drags over the offered cleavage before it rises to Hotaru’s voice. There’s no jealousy, only admiration of a body well worth being praised, and Colt is certain that has never been a dilemma for the Valkyrie.

Her lips purse subtly, plump with a call that dies out in her throat before it ever frees itself, the bartender already turned away. They twist then, a dry humor in response to Hotaru’s regard. ”You’ll definitely be double fistin’ that honey.” Almost like she’s had star sign guessed wrong, Colt smirks. ”Beer and champagne have their time and place, but tequila’s my one true love.” Her fingers curl now against her chin as she leans in on the bar top, her free hand tapping pointedly on the wood, calling the attention of the bartender back to them. ”Reposado, and a margarita, if you please.” She’d have to catch up to Hotaru’s count.

Shifting in her seat to cross her legs, side leaning against the counter edge, Colt turns to better see Hotaru, the bar an after thought to the woman. It’s a slow thing, like Colt’s letting her words gather in the movements, and to some extent, that’s not wrong. There’s truth, and then there’s framing, and Colt doesn’t intend to sink back into the ashes so readily just yet. Her carefulness is not for Hotaru. ”You know how we always get wildfires every season there? In Leafchange?” A constant worry across the land, one that often had her spending days prepping for the potential threat, her mood always more on edge on the days where static gathered. ”Always a problem, with all the dry grasses. Had to fire-fight a few times over the years, and certainly the Flood made it easier.”

She waits, briefly, to see if that left any mark. She’s heard a little of his side of the story, or at least seen the impact of it, but she doesn’t know yet how fragile Hotaru is after everything, and the last thing she wants is for either of them to break, even if it means holding breath. ”It came earlier this year. We started burning in Longheat. All the Flowerbirth rain…really made things bloom, but then Tanau’s heat dried all that extra growth up into tinder.” Might not have happened outside of that anomaly, because the excess amount of fires had spread their usual resources thin, but the fact remains that the land burns every year, and maybe she grew too comfortable with that habit, same as Sunjata did, that it never crossed their minds to do more. ”My luck finally ran out. Lost everything.”

She tries not to dip into the hurt, but her voice thins in a way that suggests it’s pulling across things that are still sharp. She almost made it through, but it’s always the admission that everything is gone that really hollows her out. A story she’s told a few times now, one that’s gotten easier to say, but hearing it all over again echoes through all the spaces in her that’d once been full, reminding her of just how fucked it all is. ”So I’m moving on from that place.”

They all know it's the wrong road
But they still go, they still go
Fucking long days getting longer
And the dark days getting darker

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

She has no idea, because Colt is all mystery wrapped in swagger and rough charm. That allure was partially responsible for Hotaru ending up at her game table like a bee to a fragrant flower. There are shades and angles to Colt that feel familiar, like a half-familiar face in a dirty mirror, one she can’t decipher from stranger and self. It’s intoxicating. Confusing. Finding her here, as lost as Ru feels, had finally pulled the trigger on initiating an encounter.

Cloaked in a new appearance now, Ru feels more confident in their escape, hair and eyes as dark as the night they escape into. Out in the open air her Frey-given glow is subtler with no walls to cast against; none save Colt’s, whose defenses she is entitled to from what little Hotaru knows of her recent fate.

Colt’s gaze is felt, and seen of course - Ru has yet to fully take her eyes off the woman herself - but Ru brings no attention to it. Her aim isn’t that shallow with Colt (at least not tonight). Still, Frey’s chosen through and through, Hotaru rises to the challenging heights of Colt’s smirk with a gleam of her own.

“At least try a sip? Tequila is my second love, but gin is my first.” She holds up the glass that had been meant for Colt, holding the honey sugar rim near her lips, magically-darkened irises holding the other woman’s gaze confidently. If Colt accepts, she wouldn’t shy away from feeding the drink to her with her own hand.

Whether she does or not, Ru returns it to the bar and takes up her own to nurse while Colt angles toward her, mimicking it herself to leave an open space meant for vulnerability and intimacy. She nods mutely at the initial question, aware of the fires given the years she’d lived there. Mention of Sunjata does have an effect; her eyes flick down to her drink for a moment, chest rising slow and deliberate as Andraste makes a soft, draconic noise and curls around her ankle. But that is all - her eyes return to Colt thereafter, more interested in her story than her own pain.

Ru would be a pitiful shade of her former self if she could not read the fray and waver of Colt’s voice. And, perhaps it’s too soon, too comfortable for women who scarcely know each other, but Hotaru slides her hand across the bar to rest her fingertips gently against the back of Colt’s knuckles where she holds her drink. Her irises bleed back to their original heterochromatic shades without conscious thought, the hold of her magic disrupted by her intense focus on the other woman.

“I’m sorry, Colt. Truly.” This moment isn’t hers, but the gravity of her tone makes it clear that Hotaru understands ten times over what losing it all means. Her voice echoes past lives that had been lived fully and painfully, long before The Voice brought her to Caido, and the life she has lived since then. Not overstaying her welcome, Ru’s hand returns to her glass to take a sip and lick a stripe of sugared honey off the rim thereafter. “No wonder we’re both here. Is Torchline your new beginning then?” A neutral curiosity lingers therein, no wrong answers to be had.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide