she’s got jumper cable lips
she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death
“Ma’am, only those on the guest list are allowed in.”
The bodyguard points at the packet of paper in his right hand, listing names Wishbone probably knows but doesn’t pay attention to at this point. She’ll be damned if Svedka isn’t getting into this shindig with her because she is not going without him. They’ve been planning this night ever since she’d gotten the invitation — asking each other what they were going to wear, wondering who would be there, deciding in unison that they will not be hanging out with the old, wealthy people the whole time — and Wishbone won’t let them get turned down that easily.
The Glock 19 concealed against her thigh nearly screams to be show its smooth face and Wishbone obliges. One slender leg swings upward so her nude-heeled foot can catch on the wall of the house. The ivory of her dress slips away to reveal the pistol against the lithe muscle as she speaks in a slow, husky voice. “I’m going to ask you one more time, sir, and I urge you to choose your next words wisely.” The bodyguard knows who she is — hell, almost everyone in the party has used the Leviathans before — and it only takes half a minute before the pair of siblings are sliding into the main floor of the building.
“For inviting five million people to this party, security sure is fuckin’ nit-picky.” A laugh follows her comment to her brother, even while one pretentious old woman glares in Wishbone’s direction. “I’ve got to swing a hello to some people, for reputation’s sake, and then we can find the good party.” She can only stand the smells of flower perfume and sixty-year-old cologne for so long, especially when she knows the true party — the one with the good alcohol and the good, young people — is upstairs.
In truth, Wishbone finds herself greeting exactly three people and she certainly knows she won’t remember who tomorrow morning. Heads turn toward the lithe, hazel-eyed woman with the long, beach-wavy locks and dazzling ivory dress as she makes her way quickly back to Svedka, handing him a Long Island Iced Tea cocktail alongside her own. It’s already a strong drink, but they’re both well-known for not being lightweights, and Wishbone smiles before taking a few gulps around the lime on the rim.
As the buzz of the alcohol settles first in her stomach and then into her vessels, Wishbone grabs her brother’s hand with a firm touch and begins to drag him away. “It’s just over here.” She’s been to enough of Casia Incorporated’s parties to know her way around the building and it doesn’t take her long before they have reached the upper level. The stars shine overhead, nearly highlighting the intricacy of her dress amid the shadow of the nighttime, and Wishbone thinks quickly of her father before the sight of vodka catches her eye.
She’d already abandoned her empty cocktail near some crowded entryway, the first of many to be deserted throughout the night. Wishbone steps easily toward the table containing the vodka and immediately begins to laugh in a starshine and wave-crash tune. “Oh, my god!” she manages to get out between chuckles. The Leviathan leader grabs a bottle — cucumber lime, she notes with approval — and holds it up to her brother’s handsome face. “Oh, wow, you look exactly how it tastes.” The bottle has her brother’s name — Svedka — printed across the face of it. Wishbone’s own face is twisted into a look of electric delight and amusement, her nose wrinkling while her hazel eyes shine like the stars above.
wishbone
so for clarification, nerine in human-world is a private mercenary gang under the name of the leviathans and wishbone is their leader. any nerinian at the party is welcome to use this occupation, if they'd like <3
wishbone: xxx
her dress: xxx
