＋ㅤmusings

"Hêlêl." A deep voice echoes within the former angel's head, their name—their /old/ name reverberating through every inch of their skull.

"Hêlêl." The familiar voice sounds distant and much too close, all at once; it splits their head in two. They do their best to block it out, squeezing their eyes shut tighter as if it will ward off the unwanted intrusion.

"Open your eyes, you insolent fool." It is fruitless. The demon gives in, slowly opening his eyes and squeezing them shut once more when the blinding whiteness around them burns their apertures. Their surroundings shake, an impatient push that forces them to look once more and they're met with an empty void. No one and nothing surrounds them as the voice of their father continues.

"Hêlêl....you were always my greatest disappointment"

Before the words can finish ringing through the air, they are joined by a rumbling as the ground around him shuddering and quakes before beginning to split—the Earthen crack rapidly stretching in their direction with a stomach-dropping crack. The devil frantically crawls backward to escape it before finally managing to scramble to their feet. And, just as soon as they gain their footing, the ground gives away underneath them and they're falling, free falling down

down

d
o
w

n

d

o

w

n

into a darkness so black and so suffocating that they can hardly stand it. They can feel it all closing in, struggling to take a breath when—

Victor wakes with a start, jolting up in their rickety bed with a sharp gasp tearing its way through his system and chest heaving. Wiry fingers shaky as they at his loose tank top over the space where their heart lies, fighting to escape its boney prison. His wing scars throb painfully as they lift the same hand to muffle oncoming sobs. Relief. He weeps.

--

"I must'nt fear Him. He can't hurt me anymore."

— New Years Resolution mini event

01/01/2023, 3:32 a.m.

Nearly four hours after the ball drop and the city that never sleeps is still very much alive—the streets abuzz with laughter, music, and optimistic chatter about hopes for the new year. Giggling and stumbling along in the arms of the friends she quite literally just made at a rich bachelor's party is the bubbly and bright socialite. An expensive heel drags behind each off-kilter footfall, clinging onto her ankle for dear life by a still-fasted buckle, never mind the ice cold, filthy New York streets. The inebriated quartet stumble along, spirits sky high with their individual homes their final destination of the night. Around them, people hug. People kiss. They dance. The sight prompts Jane to press a big, sloppy kiss to Jian's cheek, the shift in balance nearly sending the entire group to the ground. They laugh some more and their journey continues, mutually re-extending hands to one another as the kissing incident broke up their phalanx.

Before long, the near strangers eventually reduce to three—Lilliana's roommate chuckling and taking over the job of getting her inside. They call well wishes over their shoulders, one far more intelligible than the other, and the trio continues on.

They become two as Jian bids his goodbyes before nearly toppling over as he tips a non-existent hat to the exasperated old doorman whose known him since he was 10. The remaining two shriek in shock and then howl in amusement, waving high over their heads as they continue up the streets.

A stray cat skitters across their path just as they reach the luxury hotel they're both staying in. Arsyn coos and drops to their knees to lure the feline out of hiding. Jane yawns and pats their head affectionately, wishing them a "beautiful, wonderful, glorioussss New Years sleep" and a cheeky "dream of me~" before she heads inside. The lobby is just as busy, full of party goers of its own. But the blonde is determined to get up to her room and remove her makeup—drunken-clarity concerns of breaking out should she forget to plaguing a prominent point of her mind.

Five floors up and she's home free, using the beautifully wallpapered walls to support herself as she drags along to room 506, narrowly avoiding tripping over a pair slumped against the wall, out cold but leaning on each other. Chatter and music float up from down the hall from an open room where a private party is still roaring. It's a bit more of a struggle to retrieve her room key, followed by a triumphant "HA!" and a kiss to the plastic surface. After some more fumbling, she pulls the door open just enough to slip inside and the joyous noise from all around is swiftly cut as a soundproof door shuts. And, just as quickly, she feels colder. And the silence, the lack of life, in her dark room is tangible. She's daunted by the sobering realization that, at the end of everything, she's alone. No matter how many aquaintences and connections she makes and no matter how many exciting nights, it's always just her at the end of the day.

No matter what.

She is alone.

-

"Build a meaningful relationship—even if it's just one"
— New Years Resolution mini event

Light cast down on her. The stage came to a halting silence.

“My sister, Veronica, and I had this double act, and my husband, Charlie, travelled around with us. Now, for the last number in our act, we did 20 aerobic tricks in a row. One, two, three, four, five, splits, spread eagles, back flips, flip flops, one right after the other. Well, this one night, we were in the hotel, Cicero. The three of us, boozin’ and havin’ a few laughs, and we run out of ice. So I go out to get some. I come back, open the door, and there’s Veronica and Charlie doing Number Seventeen –”

A harmony of voices filled the background until the drum made its entrance. The lights fell onto the dancers behind her, the female dancer with her legs spread open while the male dancer held her up with her head facing the ground.

“The Spread Eagle. Well, I was in such a state of shock I completely blacked out. I can’t remember a thing. It wasn’t until later when I was washing the blood off my hands, I even knew they were dead.”

The cymbal roll heightened in the background. Calypso threw her arms to the back and swiftly turned to her right. The trumpet entered the score, and she captured the audience’s attention with her gaze.

Like the character she portrayed, Calypso learned to push any man who came close, strutted, and stepped over their illusionary world. She would dangle a piece of her that they desired before taking it right as it touched their fingertips. Whispered sweet nothings laced with lies, just the things they wished to hear. Let them dress her like the Barbie dolls they never got to play with. Be, smile and act like their dream girl.

She put on the best performance she could do and left them behind with a bow and a standing ovation from the crowd.

Do not blame her for turning so cold when we knew exactly what these men would do to the hearth of her heart again: light it ablaze only to throw water when they wished to return to reality. She may be a fool once, but in this sickly world, women learned quickly that most men were never meant to be trusted.

Her show ended right as the clock midnight, and while everyone cheered and welcomed the good things the new year had to offer, Calypso wished for her to come one step closer to seeking her revenge.



— for new year's resolution mini-event.