a little liquor on my lips { katerina/calypso ; blitz }

[я𝑜𝓈𝑒]

"sprawled out on the roof, bottle in hand - there could be no better night in the land of blood and bones."

{ there's a place way down in bed-stuy,
where a boy lives behind bricks,
he's got an eye for girls of eighteen,
and he turns them out like tricks ;

Whiskey hisses down my throat. I have always been one to drown my sorrows in a bottle; I wander far and wide, but I will always find my way back to the amber shores, calling my name - Calypso, Calypso, Calypso - when trouble wrecks havoc in paradise. I will always find my way back to the bar - it's always this bar, the little cozy one on the bend in the road - when my sorrows emerge from their hideouts to play.

Tonight, I drown Hannah O'Leary.
I drown Abraxas Morrigan.
I drown Xanthe Delacroix.
I drown Thaddeus Bloodworth.
I drown the blood on the knife.
I drown the priest's boy.

(Bottoms up.)

A haze wraps itself around my mind, but I have not fully surrendered my self-control to the bottle just yet.

From the corner of my eye, I see her - and the sight of her sends a chill bolting down my spine.

People to avoid:
Colgate O'Leary
Abraxas Morrigan
Cordelia Eaglebrooke
Katerina O'Leary
Scope O'Leary
Crest O'Leary
Marvis Marbles Marbles whatever the fuck his name is O'Leary
Clio Burke
Mr. O'Leary
Mrs. O'Leary
and anyone else who gave a damn about her

I see her - and I think, if I wasn't on leaning over the brink of drunkenness, I would have jumped out of my skin.

Sober Calypso would have -
Sober Calypso would have said -
Sober Calypso wouldn't -
But Sober Calypso
isn't
here.

I am mindless, I am pure impulse.
"Katerina O'Leary," I chuckle. "Damn, fate is funny, isn't it?"

(Sure is.)

{ i went down to a place in bed-stuy,
a little liquor on my lips
i let him climb inside my body
and held him captive in my kiss ;

. . .

lyrics: "hurricane" by halsey.

[presto]

CALYPSO DELACROIX

[/presto]

[maverick hale 🌧️ d5 [nyte]]

K A T E R I N A  O ' L E A R Y

Dead. Dead. Dead. My sister is dead. Perhaps the only decent fucking person in the whole world was slaughtered and it should have been me. I'm a coward painted bright red, a sore thumb and everywhere I go there are whispers. The last O'leary girl. Like we're some kind of dying breed. Better get a look-see quick because soon enough they'll all be gone. Well jokes on them because it's my nineteenth birthday and if I don't take a razor to my wrists anytime soon, I'm going nowhere.

Nowhere but the bar. Nowhere but further into this delicious haze of drunkeness and forst, the kind creating paths down my lungs and up my chest, into my fingertips and to the tip of my nose and soon enough I can't feel fucking anything. The world is an abstract painting, lights flaring and stars pulsing, I can't make out their faces and I can't make out anything.

My head is pressed against the wood of the bar, maybe it's cherry maybe it's oak maybe it's i-don't-give-a-shit. I don't care about anything anymore. 'long as I have enough money to get plastered I'm fine. If I don't think about Hannah I won't paint the walls with bits of my brain and-

I hear her before I see her, voice harsh like nails against my cheek. I feel like I've been slapped and I can't quite tell why. I can't focus on her, I don't care enough to. Maybe I should try something more potent than booze to take this pain away.

"'s me." I grumble, knocking back another shot because my head is off the bar and might as well. "sorry don't give out autographs, you'll wanna ask my statue of a brother for one." Because he is cold and dead and I don't think Colgate even gives a fuck anymore. Not since he met that pretty little avox that looks like that tribute.

He said he won the games for us but I'm starting to wonder if he just wanted to slaughter five people for the hell of it.

[я𝑜𝓈𝑒]

"sprawled out on the roof, bottle in hand - there could be no better night in the land of blood and bones."

{ and there's a storm you're starting now
and there's a storm you're starting now
and there's a storm you're starting
i'm a wanderess ;

My late doppelganger's sister replies with a drunken grumble. "'s me," she says. "Sorry don't give out autographs, you'll wanna ask my statue of a brother for one." She does not pause, not once, between her words to look at me - really look at me, and see her sister's ghost painted across my face. Perhaps she can't see the horror of my features through the haze she has built for herself.

I envy her.

(Katerina O'Leary takes another shot.)

Her words summon a rise of laughter from my throat. It crushes against my lungs as it unfolds into the air. "I'll drink to that," I say. And with that, I down a gulp of whiskey from my bottle and nearly slam it back down on the counter. (The drunker the better - why the hell not?)

Maybe if I downed a few more, I would be in liberty. Perhaps if I drowned myself in all of the amber, my problems, stacked into towers, would drown with me.
I came to drown my sorrows didn't I?

So I down another.
And another.
And another,

until I can feel it in not just my head, not just my bones,
but every fiber of my very being.

"I'm Calypso," I tell her, as I down another gulp of my drink. It burns my lips, it claws at my throat - but it's all a small price to pay for bliss at long last. "You have fire - I like fire." The words roll so easily off my tongue - it must be the alcohol; sober Calypso wouldn't - would have -
but sober Calypso isn't here.

{ i'm a one night stand
don't belong to no city
don't belong to no man
i'm the violence in the pouring rain ;

. . .

lyrics: "hurricane" by halsey.

[presto]

CALYPSO DELACROIX

[/presto]