𝑙𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑜𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠 🌘 (holyrites) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2020-07-11 22:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | luna olmos |
WHO Luna
WHEN Saturday, 11th July
WHERE Colorado
WHAT A day in and a night out
WARNINGS violence, sex, the usual.
Every time Luna tried to do a reading for herself, the Nine of Swords kept appearing. Worry, anxiety, nightmares, inner turmoil, deep-seated fears, secrets. Sitting on her bed in just her underwear, legs crossed beneath her, Luna gathered up all the cards in front of her again and reshuffled them. She lay out another Celtic cross spread and turned them over one by one. No Nine of Swords, but the Eight was there, staring right back at her as though judging her for continuously redrawing. Victim-hood, imprisonment, negative thoughts. Luna let out a loud breath from between closed teeth, letting it come out a small burst at a time, almost musical as she considered the cards. A crash somewhere in the house, and Luna tilted her head towards the sound. After their incredibly peaceful morning in bed, Michele had spent the rest of the day screaming and raging. She’d gone to check on him once and he’d roared at her to get out, throwing his almost full bottle of liquor directly at her. It smashed on the wall beside her, and Luna backed quickly out of the room. He had a knife in hand and was slashing at his canvas, swearing in Italian. (She’d worked out that it was almost definitely Italian now, after finally recognising a few common words.) Luna had decided that staying in the bedroom was the best course of action until he calmed down, but knowing he was out there stomping around made her restless and uneasy. So instead she went down to the kitchen and started cleaning things up. She tossed out the moldy bread as well as finding a fruit bowl with sad shriveled apples and oranges that were clearly never going to be eaten. She went through the fridge and threw away anything that had started to grow things it shouldn’t, and then washed all of the dishes lying around. It wasn’t the worst kitchen she’d ever been in, and it didn’t take all that long to make it look decent. It was amazing what just cleaning off the benches and wiping them down could do. While the dishes dried, Luna went back to the fridge and pantry, looking through them as she tapped at her lip with her fingers, trying to ponder what could be made out of it all. The answer turned out to be a simple spaghetti bolognese, always an easy classic that Luna had pulled out of a hat many a time in the past. She collected her phone – still no reception – and turned on some music to keep her company while she cooked. She had the sauce simmering when she heard Michele’s voice from the doorway. “You’re cooking?” She turned around and smiled at him, warm and welcoming, because those were both excellent choices to make when someone was as utterly unpredictable as Michele seemed to be. “I thought you might like something for dinner,” she told him, stirring the pasta. “And I was bored.” “You can’t find ways to entertain yourself?” Michele asked her with a slightly distasteful curl of his lip. “I can,” Luna told him, pointing to the sauce with her wooden spoon. “I’m entertaining myself with cooking.” “And cleaning,” he said, coming over to look at the benches. “That too.” Michele leaned against the counter, watching the sauce bubble but seeming to be looking past it. “Thank you,” he said finally, with a single nod. “I get caught in my own thoughts.” He remained there, silent, for a few long moments, and then walked back out of the room. “Okay, dude,” Luna said quietly to herself, making the sort of mocking face she was glad he couldn’t see. But then he returned, carrying a bottle of dusty wine that he put down on the counter. “There are wine glasses above you,” he told Luna, and she opened the cupboard near her head to confirm that, yes, there were wine glasses. She drew down two and put them beside the bottle, while Michele fished a corkscrew from a drawer. As Luna turned off the elements and began to dish out their food, Michele poured them both a glass of wine. As they sat together at the kitchen table and ate, Michele becoming more animated, with his earlier rage seemingly completely forgotten. He laughed his way through a story about an affair he’d had with a rival’s mother in the late 1800s – neatly confirming for Luna that he was some sort of immortal, as suspected – and then cried through a story about having to put down his favourite and most beloved horse when it broke a leg. (That time period was unspecified, but he did mention selling a stagecoach afterwards, so that story was clearly rather in the past as well.) After they’d finished eating and had both had a couple glasses of wine, Michele smiled at her. "When Peitho said she was sending someone to come stay with me, I told her to fuck off. I told her I didn’t need her pity prostitute taking up space and distracting me. But… it is not unpleasant to be in your company.” Luna tried not to let it go to her head when immortals said they enjoyed her company, but sometimes that was difficult. These were divinities who’d lived lifetimes and lifetimes and they liked her! It was deeply flattering. “Well,” Luna told him with a wry smile. “I try.” Michele considered her for long enough that Luna started to feel uncomfortable under his dark gaze, and then he stood up. “Get changed. Put on something…” He gestured as though looking for the right word. “Attractive. We’re going out to a bar.” Whatever Luna had been expecting for the night, it wasn’t bar hopping. But she returned to her room and got changed, putting on the same black dress she’d worn to Peitho’s symposium – an event which felt both very recent and so distant by now – and doing her makeup as quickly as she could. Luckily for Michele, Luna was a well-practised speedster with getting her makeup done. She couldn’t find him in the house, but soon saw his car pull up in front of the door. “Should I lock this?” she asked him, as she pulled the front door closed behind her. Michele made a gesture with his hand that said don’t worry about it and so Luna shrugged and got into the passenger seat. He didn’t say anything on the half hour drive to their destination, instead glaring at the road as though it had personally wronged him. Her phone suddenly started buzzing in the pocket of her dress rapidly, alerting her that they were back within cell phone reception. She managed not to look at it until they were at the little country bar, decently full of locals who stared at her when she entered like she was part of the travelling freakshow. She guessed her look didn't quite fit in around these parts. She ordered herself a martini and listened to Michele talk about the lighting in the room, and how it should have been better set up to flatter the patrons. Luna just nodded along, as though agreeing. She didn’t actually have much opinion on lighting, at least not in this bar. When he went to play pool, Luna slipped outside the bar. The music became a dull murmuring behind the doors, and she pulled out her phone to dial Will’s number. It went to voicemail. “Hey,” she said, leaning up against the rough bricks behind her. “I saw your messages about giving you a call, so I’m giving you a call. Buuuuuut… you’re not there, soooo… Hi. I miss you too. I’m staying with some immortal artist guy outside a little town in Colorado. He’s a little-” she tried to think of the best word, something non-concerning but also true. “-erratic? But he seems harmless enough, as these people go. I’m sorry if things are shitty there, and I don’t like to think you’re worrying about money. If I knew your bank details I’d send you something now but… yeah. But maybe I’ll set you up some pocket money when I get home.” She laughed, running a hand through her hair. Then she sighed into the warm night. “Miss you. I think I already said that but… yeah, miss you.” A beat. “It’s weird here.” Another long pause, the loudest sound a car horn honking as it passed her. “I wish I was chilling somewhere with you instead. You were saying that you hadn’t been reading in a park for ages and I thought, we should do that some time. Just go out together and-” There was a beep and an electronic voice say that her message had reached maximum length. Luna wondered if she should call and leave another message, but that seemed weird and clingy to do. So instead she just let out a loud breath and put her phone back into her pocket. Hearing Will’s voice, even as a message, had made her feel homesick. Back inside the bar, she heard Michele the moment she stepped through the door. He and some other man were arguing loudly about… something very unclear. Both of them were throwing their hands about as they spoke, and the stranger had a friend standing behind him. Luna couldn’t work out if the friend was goading him on or trying to calm him down. All three of them seemed far too drunk, and Luna felt ridiculously sober. So she went over and got in between them, facing Michele. “Hey,” she said, “what is going on?” “This little shit-” “Oh, yeah, keep talking,” the other man snapped. “You keep talking and I’ll kick your fucking ass!” “You’ll kick my- ” “Yeah, gonna fuckin’ destroy you!” Luna stepped out from between them and let them keeping going on about how they were going to beat each other up, about how the other was a weak pussy, about how they were going to- Luna ordered herself a pepsi. Eventually Michele came over to sit next to her. “Get bored?” Luna asked him, not hiding that she was annoyed and unimpressed. “He thought better of fighting me,” Michele grumbled. “He’s gone off to play children’s games.” “Cool,” Luna stated blankly, sipping her pepsi. “I could have killed him, you know.” Luna only barely managed to not roll her eyes. “I’m sure you could, champ.” Michele grabbed her arm suddenly, glaring at her. His grip wasn’t as strong as Ares’ had been, but it sent the same sort of warning through her. “I could kill you too,” he told her coldly. Luna looked at him seriously. “Easily,” she confirmed. “Peitho might get mad about it, but, no, I couldn’t stop you if you decided to do that.” Luna wasn’t dumb, no matter what some might think. She understood her precarious position in this world perfectly. He let go of her arm and called for another drink and then took it over to the pool table to play another game with someone. Luna drank her pepsi and watched the silent football game on the big TV behind the bar. It was almost an hour later when Michele said they were leaving, and tossed her the car keys. Luna held the door open for him and he started making his way out across the parking lot. As he did, Luna reached into her pocket to check her phone and found that she had a voicemail. Fuck, she’d missed a call. It might be Will. Letting Michele carry on towards the car, Luna slowed her walk so that she could check the message. But she was only just getting through the prompts when she heard shouting in front of her. Looking up, Luna saw Michele grab another man and throw him to the ground – the man from the bar earlier – and then pin him down as he punched him. She shoved her phone towards her pocket and broke into a run towards the violence. “Stop it!” she shouted, but Michele barely seemed to hear her. He was pummeling his fists into the man’s face, the mortal man only now and then managing to get a hit in. Drops of blood flew off Michele’s fists and hit Luna's cheek. And then, from somewhere, the knife appeared. One moment it was just fists and then the next moment Michele’s hand gripped a small knife that he began thrusting into the man’s chest and belly, over and over, swearing and spitting and hissing as he did. “STOP!” Luna screamed, grabbing for his arm, trying to pull him off. The man below him was crying and gurgling as blood sprayed out from his lips with a cough. Michele was too strong, and although Luna was yanking at him, it was as though she wasn’t even there. “Hands off me, Fillide!” He roared, pulling his arm free hard enough to make Luna stumble to her knees on the hard pavement. And then, before she could right herself, his bloody hands were on her arms, pulling her to her feet. “Drive the fucking car!” he snapped at her, running towards it now. Luna looked at the bloody man, now dead on the ground. She opened her mouth to speak and Michele shouted her name in a way that suggested he wouldn’t shout it again. Luna turned and ran towards the car, getting behind the wheel and driving them home. This time Michele wasn’t silent. This time he flew wildly between laughter and furious anger towards the dead man. “He called you a whore!” he said at one point, and when she flicked her eyes over to him, Michele looked crazed and wild. “Said he’d take you home with him! He tried to take my money at the pool table, you saw it, everyone saw it! Everyone knew what he was doing all night!” Luna said nothing. Luna drove the car. Back at the house he didn’t go inside. Instead he disappeared into the surrounding woods, still ranting. Luna went straight to the shower. She locked the bathroom door behind her. Somewhere in the madness she’d lost her phone. |