charlie
Charlie hears her name the way a cat hears a can of tuna being opened; instantly, violently, full-body attentive delight. She whips toward the sound with a gasp so big it could lift her off the ground, and then she darts!; one heartbeat she’s twenty paces away, the next she’s molten lace and glittering skin right at his side, practically vibrating with joy.
"Hiiiiii!!!" It bursts out of her like a champagne cork, breathless and too bright and somehow musical. Before physics can complain, she darts again—up, up, up—until she’s hovering eye-level with him, arms flung around his shoulders in a dizzy, delighted squeeze that smells like smoke, sugar, and scandal. Then she drops back to the mud-slicked ground in a swish of lace and a flick of her nail, her heels somehow not sinking at all.
Her head is already swinging toward Flora, and the scream she makes is not human. It is delighted, feral, cinematic. "OH. MY. GODS." She clutches her own cheeks. "IS THIS YOUR GIRLFRIEND???" She doesn’t wait for an answer. "She’s SO PRETTY," she gushes, tail coiling in a sugary spiral behind her.
Charlie inhales, which is dangerous, because it loads her for more. "Did you bring a change of clothes?" Her eyes sweep Flora like she’s appraising artwork and trying to buy it at auction. "Nevermind, nevermind, we can work with this, trust me, trust me—" Another inhale—"Can you dance??" She blinks, squints, and then shakes her head, waving a hand. "You LOOK like you can. And are you okay with fire? Very important. Very important for later."
But then someone in the crowd screeches her name again, and Charlie lights up like fireworks. "BRB!!" She beams up at Kaisel, pure mischief and moonlight and then she vanishes with another dart!, another puff of sex, sparkle, and uncontainable glee as she streaks off into the chaos.
"Hiiiiii!!!" It bursts out of her like a champagne cork, breathless and too bright and somehow musical. Before physics can complain, she darts again—up, up, up—until she’s hovering eye-level with him, arms flung around his shoulders in a dizzy, delighted squeeze that smells like smoke, sugar, and scandal. Then she drops back to the mud-slicked ground in a swish of lace and a flick of her nail, her heels somehow not sinking at all.
Her head is already swinging toward Flora, and the scream she makes is not human. It is delighted, feral, cinematic. "OH. MY. GODS." She clutches her own cheeks. "IS THIS YOUR GIRLFRIEND???" She doesn’t wait for an answer. "She’s SO PRETTY," she gushes, tail coiling in a sugary spiral behind her.
Charlie inhales, which is dangerous, because it loads her for more. "Did you bring a change of clothes?" Her eyes sweep Flora like she’s appraising artwork and trying to buy it at auction. "Nevermind, nevermind, we can work with this, trust me, trust me—" Another inhale—"Can you dance??" She blinks, squints, and then shakes her head, waving a hand. "You LOOK like you can. And are you okay with fire? Very important. Very important for later."
But then someone in the crowd screeches her name again, and Charlie lights up like fireworks. "BRB!!" She beams up at Kaisel, pure mischief and moonlight and then she vanishes with another dart!, another puff of sex, sparkle, and uncontainable glee as she streaks off into the chaos.
devils that you know
raise worse hell than a stranger
raise worse hell than a stranger
Hella golden retriever energy. Small unrefined horns made of ruby. Regular spade-shaped tail.
