𝑙𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑜𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠 🌘 (holyrites) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2020-12-27 21:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | luna olmos, solanine |
WHO Luna
WHEN December
WHAT A month in the life of
WARNINGS brief mentions of sex and handsy guys
December 6th After Tinsel's Christmas party, Luna had stumbled home, holding her gift close like the precious cargo it was. She opened the box at the kitchen counter and took out the intricate little gingerbread house that would have suited a little gingerbread Addams Family just peachy. Luna, a fair bit drunk from the night, grinned at it. She couldn't help wondering if she'd be getting any other presents this year after making tonight's impression on Santa Claus... December 8th One might ask what did the sexy version of The Ghost of Christmas Past wear? and the answer, it would seem, was sexy red silk edged with white. Sometimes Luna felt like her costumed times with Merlin were a big joke that she wasn't quite in on, but she didn't mind. If he wanted to be told he was a Very Bad Mr Scrooge then who was Luna to bah humbug that Christmas spirit? While he showered in the morning, Luna left a present wrapped in silver paper on the couch in his library. Within the innocent wrapping waited a photo book of vintage nude daguerreotypes. December 10th Luna woke up feeling a little worse than she would have liked, her neck at a weird angle she couldn't explain until she felt for the bed beneath her and found that it was velvet. Not a bed, a couch. A deep red velvet fainting couch, in fact. Luna ran a hand through her hair and sat up, frowning. She remembered where she was now - the back room at Illunis - and the rest of the night was coming a little more clearly back into view, despite the absinthe she'd been making friends with. Something about shots with a groping guy? There'd been a private room upstairs to Illunis with a few of them... Something about the groping guy... "Oh shit," Luna said, suddenly reaching up to pull her shirt aside so that she could look at her shoulder. There was a long cut there, from the top of her shoulder down into the edge of the tattooed rose below her clavicle. The cut itself was dark and scabbed, seemingly not deep, but sealed tightly with little butterfly stitches. The shirt itself was not hers, but a simple black t-shirt that said ILLUNIS in the same font as the sign above the bar. Luna let the neck of the shirt go and stood, venturing out into the bar. She found Solanine behind it, still dressed head to toe in black but with slightly less severe makeup in the light of day. "Did I-" she asked, and then paused because it didn't sound right. "-jump across a table at someone?" "You did," Solanine said, marking something off on the clipboard she was holding. She looked up from her papers. "Uh," Luna said, blinking against her headache. "...why?" "You really were drunk," Solanine said, and it was clearly stating the obvious. "There was a game of Gloom happening, but one of the men had decided he was trying to fuck me instead of playing. He wasn't taking no for an answer and you got up, swept everyone's cards off the table, and then tried to slide over it like you were a television cop sliding across the front of a car. It was not very smooth, but you grabbed hold of his arm and told him that - and I quote - 'my gods would tear you apart'. That's when he pulled out a flick knife. Don't worry," Solanine said, putting the clipboard down on the bar. "I broke his wrist and sent him flying. But I'm glad you were quick enough to back away from a knife. That could have been much worse." "Jesus Christ," Luna muttered after a long few moments of just taking that all in. Yeah, she kinda remembered bits of that? Sort of? "I gotta get home." Solanine nodded and picked up her clipboard again. As Luna headed back towards the room to find her clothes, Solanine called after her: "Oh, and Luna?" "Mmmm?" "Maybe try not to make yourself a instrument of god on your way home?" December 11th Nothing quite said Christmas in New York like walking outside your apartment and realizing you were in the middle of SantaCon. It was almost enough to make Luna back right up and decide the day was already over, but there were things to be done. So she pushed her way through the sea of loud, rude, drunken Santas that were standing between Luna and Peitho's favourite fishmonger. An unknown Santa groped her and disappeared in the crowd. A group of Santas - only one who'd bothered with a beard - were belting out the lyrics to All Star and then descending into various Shrek and Donkey impressions. Three Santas had either gotten properly into the spirit or completely ignored it (hard to tell with SantaCon) and were openly brawling in the gutter, powered up enough on booze to ignore the freezing cold puddles they were falling into and the blood they were sending flying. A very polite Santa apologized to Luna profusely for the behaviour of his fellow Santas, before turning around to tell the woman beside him that she was a 'dry old cunt' Inside, the fishmonger sighed deeply and eyed the field of red and white out his window. "I effing hate SantaCon." December 13th The tree that Peitho had ordered was not subtle, but then when had Peitho ever sought out subtly? It was thick and tall and as soon as it was inside the room, the fresh pine smell filled the entire apartment. Luna might not have been Christmasy, but that smell brought such memories along with it. That smell was like childhood Christmases when they still seemed exciting. And so she asked Spotify to find her the best heavy metal Christmas playlist it had and let it roll, decorating the tree in reds and silvers. There was nothing cheap or tacky about the ornaments, and after spotting a price tag on a box of glass balls, Luna steadied her breath and was much more careful with the hanging. When it was done, Luna sat down on the couch across the room and admired it against the backdrop of grey afternoon sky, while King Diamond yowled that 'there's no presents, not this Christmas!' Sorry, King Diamond, Luna told the music as she got up and collected the box from the spare bedroom, silver and green wrapping paper poking out the top. Peitho doesn't do 'no presents' December 14th After dropping Peitho's car in to to have the lights repaired, Luna rode home in a freezing subway car with seven other commuters. The train turned a corner and from under one of the seats a dry human poo rolled out across the aisle and under the opposite seat. Everyone watched it. No one said anything. Another slight corner and the poo rolled its way back. Luna made momentary eye contact with the old woman across from her. A punk three seats down lifted his feet off the ground. The poo rolled. December 16th The Union Square Holiday Market seemed to be the only craft market left in New York that really was just a market of creative and homemade things. All of the others had become for re-sellers of cheap Chinese junk, or Boss Babes desperately trying to shill their pyramid schemes. If Luna wanted essential oils she wasn't going to spend a small king's ransom on them from a woman with a desperate lifeless smile. Especially since at this market she could had bought a gift pack where 'the energy of the crystal compliments the benefits of the oils'. She didn't though. By faded evening, the lights made the market feel festive and cozy, despite the freezing temperatures. Luna was keeping her hands in gloves as she picked at the garlic pretzel she'd bought. She stopped by a stall selling jewelry made from succulents and couldn't resist a dramatic statement necklace for herself. Luna was supposed to be Christmas shopping, but didn't she deserve a little present too? The biggest surprise to her was the person selling little finger puppets of historical figures and book characters, because that was where she saw the sweet little Merry Men made out of felt. Or some of them, at least. Robin and Marian were there, as was Little John, Friar Tuck and- yes- Will Scarlet, all of them with tiny name banners across the bottom of their little green outfits. God, it would have made such a great Christmas present! Luna half started to pull out her phone. Maybe she didn't need to apologise. Maybe she could just send Will a picture of felt-him and everything would go back to how it was. It wouldn't, of course. Will had made that clear. He didn't want her friendship back, not unless she was fucking him as well. Her expression tightened and she turned away from the stall. Her vicious mind decided to remind her of the things he'd said the last time they saw each other, just in case she could possibly forget. She bit into her pretzel with frustration. December 17th Outside, the city was blanketed in white. From inside the warm apartment, wearing nothing but green lingerie, Luna watched the flurries of snow pass the window, obscuring that usually distant view. It felt so decadent to watch a snowstorm from such heated opulence and Luna smiled, lying down on the couch with her head hanging backwards over the end. The snowstorm looked the same upside down as right way up. She heard the soft step of bare feet against the wooden floorboards and said, "it's so beautiful." "Mmm," Peitho agreed and Luna closed her eyes when Peitho's lips touched the skin of her stomach. "It's not the only thing." December 21st Monday came with a sick sense of familiarity when Luna entered the apartment to find Hermes sitting strewn on the couch looking worse for wear, an icepack pressed against his balls. Dropping her bags she'd run to his side, just like the good little acolyte she was. Artemis this time, it seemed. (Although on behalf of Apollo, in a way.) How had Hermes let two Olympians get the better of him in so short a time? He didn't seem upset by it though. He seemed... sneaky? There was a definite gleam in her lord's eye, perhaps a plan, but Luna didn't ask what it was. Instead she kissed him and brought him wine and cheeses. December 25th On Christmas morning, Luna brought her gods breakfast in bed (as requested by Peitho). But she hadn't yet reached the door when she heard them both moaning within. She could give them a minute. By the time they emerged, still flushed and smiling, the breakfast was cold. Luna remade it without complaint and tried not to get distracted when Hermes started kissing the back of her neck. She definitely did get distracted when he spread her legs and lifted her slip so he could fuck her. Luna managed to not even burn the pancakes, but it was a close call. Then all three of them ate by the tree before handing out presents. Almost everything was luxurious and expensive, although there were some gifts that made Luna realise that they must have paid attention when she'd casually mentioned an interest in them: A first edition of a book that she'd said she loved as a child, a leather jacket with a raven embroidered into the back, a certificate to tell her that she was now a patron member of the New York Botanical Gardens. Peitho's favourite gift very clearly appeared to be the gold serpentine armbands, one with a merman and the other with a mermaid. They looked weighty and beautiful and old. "Oh Hermes!" she said with delight, slipping one up her arm. "They're the ones I liked at the Met!" Luna knew those weren't from the gift shop. December 27th What goes up, must come down: even Christmas trees. Luna was exhausted from the trials of party planning, but at least she was more practiced at it by now. Although, since the last time they threw a party, a second floor had been added to the apartment. A second floor which would need to be decorated as well. But she had three full days left, and things were being ticked off the To Do List at a rapid pace. Maybe if she ever did have to leave Peitho, Luna should go into party planning. Gods, but she was ready for a new year. She was ready to say goodbye to all of the shitty things that had happened in this one, and make a fresh start. No Michele, no Ares, no betraying her gods, no losing friends. 2021 was going to be better. And, dammit, maybe she would kiss someone interesting beneath the mistletoe. |