miyabi
๐ช ๐ข๐ฎ ๐ง๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ, ๐ช ๐ข๐ฎ ๐ง๐ข๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ
kiko
the world
The remains of what was her experience in jail were left in the dust, from not only the smell--but the sheer torture that remained in the hours sheโd sat there; recounting the most abhorrent of feelings. What was left now was Julienโs wavering experience with conviviality: from the forced grin to the holding of the door to now, what seemed to be, a rushed warning of what could be. They couldโve very well been late, something that Kiko hadnโt thought about--mainly worried that the donuts haphazardly stuck in her pockets had been smooshed. Matter of fact, Kiko had nearly forgotten the time. That was until Julien gave her the firm reminder met with the news that he had no car; an eco-friendly, albeit time-consuming alternative to the average form of transportation--to say the least, it was admirable in a way she couldnโt explain.
Who knew men like Julien, the murderous type--if one could call it that, were eco-conscious. Good for him.
โShit, I forgot you didnโt have a car,โ a finger swiped at her nose, free hand reaching for the cigarettes tucked behind the plastic baggies stuffed with donuts. With the click of the lighter followed a sharp inhale, cigarette smoke melding with the fog that carried volumes above them. โI guess weโre speed walking. Donut?โ She and the jail hard parted just moments ago, and yet with it left in the dust, it had suddenly felt that she hadnโt even been there. A weight lifted off of her shoulders temporarily as she raked her brain for possible excuses that, most likely, would not have even been bought. Gloria most likely wouldโve sold her out and for good reason, but sometimes it would be okay to keep some things under wraps: like Kikoโs recklessness and knack for doing whatever she felt in the moment; granted, she always had issues with impulsivity.
Yeah, I should work on that.
Spidery fingers ran through thick, black locks of hair, taking in the taste of freedom after hours of containment that, unfortunately, had already taken a toll on her. Today would be long, much like any other day, with the ever-looming presence of grief that took her by the throat, waiting for the right moment to strike once again. Kiko gestured down the footpath with the private hall being a ways away, but still with enough time to get there before everyone had to sit down.
At least, she hoped.
Unsurprisingly, thoughts had a way of flooding back even in her own protest. Loss, grief, whatever the Hell this feeling was, Kiko hadnโt felt it in a long time; until now, with the heavy reminder that not everything was as it seemed. Little solace came to those who grieved.
There were reams and reams of inner turmoil pounding at the edge of her thoughts, awaiting the eventual downfall of her own psyche--Kiko, however, had no intention of letting it get to that point. Rather, she held on as much as should could, holding onto the light that seemed to remain--despite the tragedy that struck around every corner. She was, inevitably, lost in thought as she walked--with the mutual silence in the air that the two had an understanding of; Julien liked his own silence, Kiko indulged in it to fight off the comments fighting to leave her lips. The taste of a cigarette slithered down her throat with continuous draws of a breath, slowly meeting its end. She hadnโt noticed it; how quickly it burned, much like the fires of Saintโs Heights, nor could she recognize the passage of time in their wake. As much as she wanted to check her phone for the time, she feared the lack of texts on Emilioโs end.
That meant a few things: he was preoccupied and she was overthinking, he was gravely upset with her and decided to give her the silent treatment--as childish as it was, or--in her own creatively whacked out mind--that he somehow got into a fight which wouldโve been the least likely factor. Though, the thought of it was amusing; their great, level-headed leader getting into it with another person over the most menial of things.
She had only walked a few paces ahead of Julien, the silence reminding her that clarity was painful--the main reason why she was often inebriated whenever she was off the clock. Her pain, however, was unreadable to most, hidden under her misread gait that sheโd rather leave undeciphered. The angel of her youth became the devil of her maturity; childhood and adulthood haunted her like most thoughts that were often left toppling like a house of cards. And perhaps, in the margin of darkness, could Kiko create the safety net she most craved; to create the woman she wished and chose to be; whose strengths carried her further than she could anticipate.
Kiko saw the world of what it was, and yet in the chaos, she sought shelter. She didnโt, however, expect to carry the burden of her own tomorrow. Her shields were often used, seldom put down for the sake of others--weakness has, and always will be, the avoidance she carries. The womanโs inner violence came from the singular thought of getting past the past is only a hope, rather than a reality.
She could never quite pass the pain she stowed away.
โSee, weโre not late. Justโฆ here after everyone else. Kinda?โ With a turn of the head towards Julien, she gestured towards the nearing building whose ornate arches beamed even in the thickest of fogs; the structure reminiscent of corinthian architecture. Cars continued to whiz past, the honks of their horns paired with the patter of rushed footsteps; there was a group of businessmen whose stale coffee sat in one hand and an umbrella in another--they were in sync, some wouldโve mistaken it for an organized march, but their bodies had just been that in tune. She rose a brow at them, their eyes lingering towards herself and Julien, most likely taking in the height difference--even with the womanโs platform shoes keeping her at a staggering advantage. โGeez, they havenโt seen two big bitches before? Damn,โ the woman sneered, dragging herself forward once again; the annoyance, however, had still not diminished after her short comment.
Wandering eyes were never a welcomed thing, even with her appearance--one that most would find garish and offensive.
They enter, a narrow corridor filled with bodies left and right; the scent of wine and spirits lingering with every pass of a footstep. There was chatter, Kiko only catching a few conversations as she scanned the room mixed with strangers and familiars alike. No sooner than when she steps in, the woman finds her fingers wrapping around a glass of champagne, cool liquid meeting her lips and cascading down her throat. Refreshing and incredibly needed to survive a day fated for sorrow. She figured the looming figure behind her was still there, an elbow clad in fur subtly nudging him, โsnazzy, eh? Iโm gonna try to find the others--come with?โ The womanโs tired, husky voice shot itself towards Julien, whom sheโd hoped was still present; eyes flickered down into the rest of her drink, catching a glimpse of her reflection--the sunglasses still steadily placed on her face, as well as the barely visible trail of blood that trailed from her nose to her top lip.
Shit.
A thumb reached for the dried blood, swiping away at it wildly. There was one thing clear, that she'd been careless enough to leave the evidence of her own recklessness smeared on her face. Kiko looked again, a veil of relief encasing itself around her for now as her head turned left and right, searching on and on. No. No. Don't know them. Don't like them. Hm. She bore the look of a lost woman, desperate for a face she knew other than her companion's. "Azzy-baby!" And finally, she caught a glimpse--her baby sister, not by blood, but by choice--Azalea looking damn near perfect as always. Gloria was near, someone she didn't have many thoughts on, but she did admire her style, "and Gloriaaa. Ladies, ladies. Nice to see you two." Kiko's voice dragged onto the end of Gloria's name, curling it into the words that followed. "Hope you don't mind some extra company?"
Who knew men like Julien, the murderous type--if one could call it that, were eco-conscious. Good for him.
โShit, I forgot you didnโt have a car,โ a finger swiped at her nose, free hand reaching for the cigarettes tucked behind the plastic baggies stuffed with donuts. With the click of the lighter followed a sharp inhale, cigarette smoke melding with the fog that carried volumes above them. โI guess weโre speed walking. Donut?โ She and the jail hard parted just moments ago, and yet with it left in the dust, it had suddenly felt that she hadnโt even been there. A weight lifted off of her shoulders temporarily as she raked her brain for possible excuses that, most likely, would not have even been bought. Gloria most likely wouldโve sold her out and for good reason, but sometimes it would be okay to keep some things under wraps: like Kikoโs recklessness and knack for doing whatever she felt in the moment; granted, she always had issues with impulsivity.
Yeah, I should work on that.
Spidery fingers ran through thick, black locks of hair, taking in the taste of freedom after hours of containment that, unfortunately, had already taken a toll on her. Today would be long, much like any other day, with the ever-looming presence of grief that took her by the throat, waiting for the right moment to strike once again. Kiko gestured down the footpath with the private hall being a ways away, but still with enough time to get there before everyone had to sit down.
At least, she hoped.
Unsurprisingly, thoughts had a way of flooding back even in her own protest. Loss, grief, whatever the Hell this feeling was, Kiko hadnโt felt it in a long time; until now, with the heavy reminder that not everything was as it seemed. Little solace came to those who grieved.
There were reams and reams of inner turmoil pounding at the edge of her thoughts, awaiting the eventual downfall of her own psyche--Kiko, however, had no intention of letting it get to that point. Rather, she held on as much as should could, holding onto the light that seemed to remain--despite the tragedy that struck around every corner. She was, inevitably, lost in thought as she walked--with the mutual silence in the air that the two had an understanding of; Julien liked his own silence, Kiko indulged in it to fight off the comments fighting to leave her lips. The taste of a cigarette slithered down her throat with continuous draws of a breath, slowly meeting its end. She hadnโt noticed it; how quickly it burned, much like the fires of Saintโs Heights, nor could she recognize the passage of time in their wake. As much as she wanted to check her phone for the time, she feared the lack of texts on Emilioโs end.
That meant a few things: he was preoccupied and she was overthinking, he was gravely upset with her and decided to give her the silent treatment--as childish as it was, or--in her own creatively whacked out mind--that he somehow got into a fight which wouldโve been the least likely factor. Though, the thought of it was amusing; their great, level-headed leader getting into it with another person over the most menial of things.
She had only walked a few paces ahead of Julien, the silence reminding her that clarity was painful--the main reason why she was often inebriated whenever she was off the clock. Her pain, however, was unreadable to most, hidden under her misread gait that sheโd rather leave undeciphered. The angel of her youth became the devil of her maturity; childhood and adulthood haunted her like most thoughts that were often left toppling like a house of cards. And perhaps, in the margin of darkness, could Kiko create the safety net she most craved; to create the woman she wished and chose to be; whose strengths carried her further than she could anticipate.
Kiko saw the world of what it was, and yet in the chaos, she sought shelter. She didnโt, however, expect to carry the burden of her own tomorrow. Her shields were often used, seldom put down for the sake of others--weakness has, and always will be, the avoidance she carries. The womanโs inner violence came from the singular thought of getting past the past is only a hope, rather than a reality.
She could never quite pass the pain she stowed away.
โSee, weโre not late. Justโฆ here after everyone else. Kinda?โ With a turn of the head towards Julien, she gestured towards the nearing building whose ornate arches beamed even in the thickest of fogs; the structure reminiscent of corinthian architecture. Cars continued to whiz past, the honks of their horns paired with the patter of rushed footsteps; there was a group of businessmen whose stale coffee sat in one hand and an umbrella in another--they were in sync, some wouldโve mistaken it for an organized march, but their bodies had just been that in tune. She rose a brow at them, their eyes lingering towards herself and Julien, most likely taking in the height difference--even with the womanโs platform shoes keeping her at a staggering advantage. โGeez, they havenโt seen two big bitches before? Damn,โ the woman sneered, dragging herself forward once again; the annoyance, however, had still not diminished after her short comment.
Wandering eyes were never a welcomed thing, even with her appearance--one that most would find garish and offensive.
They enter, a narrow corridor filled with bodies left and right; the scent of wine and spirits lingering with every pass of a footstep. There was chatter, Kiko only catching a few conversations as she scanned the room mixed with strangers and familiars alike. No sooner than when she steps in, the woman finds her fingers wrapping around a glass of champagne, cool liquid meeting her lips and cascading down her throat. Refreshing and incredibly needed to survive a day fated for sorrow. She figured the looming figure behind her was still there, an elbow clad in fur subtly nudging him, โsnazzy, eh? Iโm gonna try to find the others--come with?โ The womanโs tired, husky voice shot itself towards Julien, whom sheโd hoped was still present; eyes flickered down into the rest of her drink, catching a glimpse of her reflection--the sunglasses still steadily placed on her face, as well as the barely visible trail of blood that trailed from her nose to her top lip.
Shit.
A thumb reached for the dried blood, swiping away at it wildly. There was one thing clear, that she'd been careless enough to leave the evidence of her own recklessness smeared on her face. Kiko looked again, a veil of relief encasing itself around her for now as her head turned left and right, searching on and on. No. No. Don't know them. Don't like them. Hm. She bore the look of a lost woman, desperate for a face she knew other than her companion's. "Azzy-baby!" And finally, she caught a glimpse--her baby sister, not by blood, but by choice--Azalea looking damn near perfect as always. Gloria was near, someone she didn't have many thoughts on, but she did admire her style, "and Gloriaaa. Ladies, ladies. Nice to see you two." Kiko's voice dragged onto the end of Gloria's name, curling it into the words that followed. "Hope you don't mind some extra company?"
โกcoded by uxieโก
