we're dangerous people | { uly / myr } blitz

[dars]

myrcella hudson

as long as you love me
this could get ugly
yeah, baby trust me
but it's fucking good

Nock, inhale on the draw back, aim, fire.

Golden tips from a golden girl.

She stared at her progress: smiley face of arrows plunging into a target she'd made herself out of a bed sheet and a hay bale. A girl has to get creative when practicing for the big show, she had thought, especially when it is illegal. But that wasn't really the case with her anymore, was it?

She glanced up at the clock on the nearest wall of the warehouse, cursing. She was supposed to be getting her make-up finished about right now. She sat her bow down and raced upstairs, dumping the contents of a plastic container out in front of her. Suddenly, her heart felt like lead, pressing against her rib cage and making it harder for her to breathe.

I'm actually doing this, she realized with a start. They'd tried recruiting her time and time again, and she had told them the same thing: I'm no good at acting. It was a lie, of course. Not a damn person involved in Operation Olympus was a bad liar; it was what made them right for the job. And when she had finally run out of excuses, Ezri had come knocking on her apartment door for morning tea, smiling that gorgeous smile at Myrcella. She knew already that she couldn't say no anymore, so she made a bargain that she would do it when her brother was free to do the scouting.

"Where is Uly?" she snapped to herself. She shouldn't have been surprised. Ulysses was the exact type of person to show up late, even in serious situations like this. She'd studied the case file for a month— Slade Kinsey. Eighteen years old. Heir to the new vineyards that had been sprouting up across the district, which she assumed were worth a lot of money. Otherwise, why bother?

Finally, as she put on the finishing touches of her mascara, she heard the door open. She swung around, furious eyes meeting Uly's.

"You're late!" she growled, turning back to her reflection in the mirror, "And, as a result, I have all but talked myself out of doing this, so you owe me some kind of pep talk or something."

[Deleted]

ulysess

it's so strange when you can't stay in the same place
catch me riding upon that wave
when it breaks, I won't wait
i'll keep trying to find my--

"No fuckin way," see, Ezri and I are both lying whores, that's the thing about people like us -- I never trust them. "She actually said yes?" Laughing into coffee cups, her's bitter and mine deadass liquor, "this is gonna be good, huh?" 

I've always been a gambling man if I say so myself, so I guess I owe Ezri a drink now -- that's all I really got. Myrcella is just one of those lame workaholics, y'know? Like, she keeps in her own lane and is good at that and pretty much that, like you know, a virgin. Part of me has always tried to get her to follow me to work unarmed, just to see what she'd actually do. I mean, how much sex appeal can she have, right? I used to be addicted to porn, she's been in archery for eighteen years. It's simple math. Ezri on the other hand, we're both kinda stupid, more fun -- that's good! People like that, and we like people (with money) so it all works out. Some people just aren't made to be a gold digger y'know? I can't stop grinning, ear to ear over morning moonshine, "do you think she can actually deep th-"

"shut up, Uly,"

it's all for money! It's pretty much all an act anyways, stupidity and calamity basically. Ezri and I both know it, Myrcella's understanding  the more she's friends with us; fox in fox clothing, we stay foxy HA. Anyways, moonshine tastes like shit. Still learning that, like Myr is learning how to let loose and let live -- it's a learning process, I get that. "Don't leave us hanging, I can probably do it alone but-"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to."

Dedication, y'know? 

So I took my time, I'm just moral support anyways. I owe Ezri money so I don't want to run into the bitch, that's fair? Like what, am I just supposed to openly pay her back - fuck no. I don't even have a reliable pay check? Twisting rings around my finger, strolling to Myrcella's house and I knock, once
twice. A quarter beat, we do that shit out of habit just to let each other know it's us but I'm too impatient to wait; I don't ever get to come in first anyways. HA oh shit, that wasn't even funny, oh well I've always kinda hoped that when I come in uninvited she'll just panic shoot me. Like, I look her in the eyes and she just glocks my ass but in a cartoony ass way, real mouse trap type deal. "Hey lovely," awwww

"You're late,

"you look cute!"

God, she's gonna kill me. Or Ezri. Or herself, one of us aren't surviving tonight and I'm hoping it's Ezri in all honesty. "Aren't you gorgeous," I want to size her up, give her all that degrading shit I get stuck with but it's not even worth it -- she has one shitty date, I have the rest of my life doing this. I can't bitch now, I guess. "As a result, I have all but talked myself out of doing this, so you owe me some kind of pep talk or something." I kinda zone out, standing behind her and watching her talk through the mirror, "did Ezri do your make up?" Beat, "it looks trash- kidding! Kidding," pep talk? Totally. "You're almost as hot as your brother right now, if that makes you feel better?" I move back before she can hit me, shit faced grin and all. 

"You'll do fine, it's not even hard."

[dars]

myrcella hudson

as long as you love me
this could get ugly
yeah, baby trust me
but it's fucking good

He put his hands on her shoulders, warming her up like she was about to spar with someone.

"Aren't you gorgeous?" He asked, smirking like he meant something more by it. Yeah, she thought, A real classy broad. Her fingers twirled themselves through one last strand of hair in the mirror.

"How the shit am I going to do this?" she spat, before eyeing Uly with a not-so amused expression. He knew cursing wasn't her strong suit, so whatever.

"Did Ezri do your makeup?" He asked. No. She'd done it herself. She'd done practically everything herself, because none of the professionals showed up. Maybe Zeus asked her to take this job because he was planning on firing one of them, possibly even his own wife.

Girl didn't do much, anyway, from what Myrcella could tell.

"It looks trash-" her makeup- "Kidding! Kidding. You're almost as hot as your brother right now, if that makes you feel better?" She rolled her eyes, half a mind to turn around and sucker punch him in the stomach. Half the time, Myrcella figured Uly only hung around because she bought him alcohol. The other half, she figured it was because he wanted Mal. But, then, to be fair, if a person found themselves surrounded by the company of rats, likely they'd be craving a bit of cheese themselves. God, she thought, What a stupid analogy.

"You'll do fine. It's not even that hard."

Right, one date. Just one. That was doable, right? But, well- more than one if she was half decent at this. Wait, what if she had to start marrying people? What if she didn't have the heart to make them think she was holding their hands when she was really sliding a watch off of their wrists?

"Let's just go," she said, glad to have at least one person to keep an eye on her, even if that person happened to be, well, "Uly," she said, popping a piece of bubblegum in her mouth, "Your hair looks fine. We're late."