Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Wildlife: Aether: Pretty in Pink

When I woke up, The Devil card was on the floor of my room.
Cassette had slept over so I could help her dye her hair. She went pink. My own hair was purple and blue, the shades of a bruise. Last night, in the aqua tiled bathroom my brother and I shared, she kissed me. Her lips tasted like late summer apricot. I pushed her onto the toilet seat, straddling her thigh.
“Aether,” she gasped as I pressed against her.

I hushed her as I ground myself on her thigh.
“Cassette,” I whispered in her ear. She tilted her head and bit my neck. She was sucking on my skin. “I want you,” she whispered back to me. I kissed her again. She made me feel funny. I wanted her the way I should and sometimes did want boys.
“Cassette, please. It’s time to rinse your hair,” I said, climbing off her lap. She knelt over the edge of the bathtub. Her ass looked plump. I leaned up against her, pressing into her and reaching up to turn on the tap. I could hear her panting as I rinsed the dye from her hair. The pink washed down the drain. She worked her hips against me. I could tell what she wanted. That’s how I wound up with a pink-haired pixie in my bed this morning. I looked her over.
“Come on Cas,” I whispered, shaking her gently. She just groaned.

Monday, January 7, 2013

Wolfen Slave

The Lost Alice, Lacie of the wolves always finds her own way. Trying to find her own pack to run with. She is star crossed, until she is star-struck. Words make her swoon and blush. He needs more. She wants to hold him close and heal him. The lone wolf. She could be given a costume and made to look fine. A pixel princess one night, a fire dancer the next. Her task is to dance. Just look pretty. She fell into this world, her job at the circus. Luck. It is all luck. The universe smiles on her, even when it’s kicking her. She can never figure out why. Right now she’s thinking, “I want to speak the language of the stars to you.” I am on a mission to bring him peace again. To dream for him and my new and lovely friends. Balancing surreal and real is easy, when he says he loves me. I am his girl tumbling down. The costumes he makes me are too lovely. Truly, the stuff of dreams. Knowing I’m going to go out there terrifies me. Breathe deep and think lovely thoughts. Be Lighter than sunshine. The Hatter demands so much of me, pushes me to great lengths. He has seen what I can achieve in the thoughts that rest in my head. He can see in my dreams, the other parts of my head. I feel safe just knowing he’s standing there with me. He’s creating my dream worlds. I want to be the reason he creates more, writes more, and makes us all feel the touch of his magic again. I want to be loved by you. I'm not afraid... I'm just lost. Find me in the waters, I'm healing. This is my wish. My lips taste like cherry and sugar. The sound of breaking glass wakes me from my dreamy sleep. The thought that I am awake again makes me ache. I miss him. I know I am on my side again. Not a circus girl. I need to dream. I can’t figure out Cat's motivations or His. I can't even figure out mine. I just want to be with him always. Even this far apart. My skin flushes with heat. My mouth tastes of cinnamon now. It makes me blush furiously. Recounting my last dream. She is Lacie, citizen of the city of Wonderlandia, circus girl. She is also Lacie, librarian, and she is going to be late for work. She put her headphones on. "Don't you, forget about me. Will you call my name?" She wouldn't forget it. Not ever, don't worry iPod. The buses light were oddly violet but she got on anyway. Thinking only of her dream-world. I don't understand how to control it. I just want to be in the circus. Being myself is dull. I'm much better when he loves me. He's my home. He's taught me so much in a few months. I've become a better Lacie. Just dreaming my strength, my will. I've done tightrope walks I've walked with fire for him. I can handle this, as the bus stops. I go inside. Would it be possible to be the Lacie I am with you in this world she thinks as she waits to start running.