parker, on the other hand, is not here after haphazardly following whims and fancies. as soon as the rumors started, she'd kept an ear down, thinking, this is fuckin' crazy and why does it matter so much to me? 

but it matters that there's someone else out there like her. not fucking around in those rings for the fun of it. but because she needs it. 'cause they need it. and starved for anything like that connection, as much as she won't admit it, she looks. 

and finds a fuck ton of crazies instead. faustus is overhead, circling, looking for that wild mane of gold. parker figures she must be here. it's human nature to be curious about these sorts of things. especially when you're part of the god they bleed for and keen to. 

but it seems that all who are here do not worship the titan and its place in this world. her shoulder's jostled, twisted wrong, as someone heavy gets thrown at her. she shoves back, lips curling, and raises a finger at the aggressor. 

another limb comes flying, but this time it connects with her cheek and sends her neck snapping to her left. 

landing her eye to eye with the captain herself. 

and despite the brawl pit she's found herself in, she grins. 

skyler dross

☉

Recognition slams into her with all the subtlety of a freight train.

One second passes, two. Chills travel the length of Skyler’s spine, and her lips slip open. Surprise, maybe?

There is a sense of purpose in the way Skyler allows darkened eyes to drink her in. Slowly. Lazily. parker jones remains her single, uncontested focus through the violent jostling by whoever’s nearby and through the barely dodged bottle that flies overhead - all inconsequential against a brewing anticipation.

Even though stale alcohol laces her breath, it proves not nearly as intoxicating as the grin that is sent her way.

I found you, it says. I finally found you.

And Skyler finds herself throwing her head back, allowing a rough bark of laughter to escape, wild and untethered and free. Making her way past struggling crowds comes easily enough, uncaring for however many cultists she must elbow or punch out of her way.

"Should’ve known you’d be here, Pinkie." Her grin is a wicked curl crafted into perfect insolence, just for Parker. An invisible line drawn in the sand, tempting the other woman to cross it.

Skyler leans in, eyes awash in the kind of trouble borne out of a glorious disregard for any and all consequences. Her grin grows secretive, daring.

She imagines she feels the other woman’s breath on her when she pitches her voice low, making sure her words are heard over the chaos. "Didn’t think you’d be the type to worship ocean deities and creatures, Pinkie." Her smile sharpens, troublesome. "Good to know."

mission: kyogre soaker
parker jones

☉

the punch and the consequent explosion of copper in her mouth would have made her angry, but all she can do is smile like a goddamn idiot. the cracks of her teeth stain red and skyler's gaze gives her goosebumps - all the hope in the world that their single night together hadn't been a fluke. 

the laughter is rough, rubbed raw with saltwater and mussels. it's music to her ears and it's amazing she can hear it over all the jeering. the drunken swaying. limbs are everywhere and the fucker who smacked her in the face still hasn't paid the price. 

her eyes go searching for him, but then the sea witch is there and she's calling her that stupid nickname and looking at her in a way that's really not fair. 

go drunk, you're home, she wants to say - starts to say - but another fist comes flying and she ducks with a grunt. 

"just answering the siren's call," she says, leaning in closer. 

these people are all lunatics, but that's not exactly surprising. the woman they unknowingly worship is standing amidst them with liquor on her breath and a primal mischief inside of her. if parker didn't know any better, she'd think skyler's making this happen. 

she's still not entirely convinced that's not the case. 

"for fuck's sake," she snarls, shoving an oafish broad off of herself and finding a small bubble of peace amidst the rolling crowd.

"these kumbaya parties always this rowdy?"

skyler dross

☉

Whatever dregs remain in her mug disappear in one large swig. A drop of liquor escapes to make its way unnoticed down the column of her throat to mix with gathering sweat.

"Thought this was your kind of thing, Pinkie." The nickname rolls off her tongue like she's taking her time to taste it. A silver gaze, mercury-bright, trails over the crimson between Parker's teeth, lingering as it stains the woman's lips the color of violence. Hell. "Don't tell me a bar brawl's enough to scare you off? Damn shame."

Skyler knows Parker could take far more than whatever these idiots could ever hope to dish out, but the taunt remains in the twitch of her lips, in the quicksilver flash of teeth - dangling between the two of them like an invitation.

Fuck, Skyler had missed this. Far more than she'd realized. Briefly, she wonders if this near-animalistic appetite for violence had started with parker jones , or if she'd simply been a reflection - mirroring Skyler's own cravings back at her. None of the brutes she'd faced off in the ring had ever had this effect on her.

The captain runs her tongue over her teeth, swaying slightly in place.

Her lips part, but only a pained wheeze escapes when a meaty fist connects with her side. Taking a few steps back, the captain bares her teeth at the man and holds onto his arm.

Grab. Twist. Crack. 

The howl of pain is lost amid the frenzied brawl. Skyler kicks the man aside, lips twisted into a snarl. "Piss off, asshole. I'm having a conversation."

mission: kyogre soaker
parker jones

☉

"hah." she harks the laugh, deftly moving with the sea of shaking bodies around them. most of the cultists near them are starting to give them a bit of a berth, sane enough to know that the two gals at this epicenter are dangerous. or at least, really fuckin' annoying. 

blue eyes search the captain's and she wishes she knew her well enough to understand what's rolling under those silver storms. but she runs her tongue over her teeth and she's looking at parker in a way that makes her gut roll. and not like she's been punched. 

or maybe - fuck, it kinda is like that. 

someone crashes into them, throwing kinetic energy between them, and she's no longer stuck there, panting and drinking in all the sweat and salt around her. she can circle, laugh at skyler's attitude. get closer. 

"speakin' o' bar brawl - i scare ya off last time? haven't seen ya 'round wayland's place." she gets close enough to throw a punch at her shoulder. 

it's teasing, gentle, but, like, parker and skyler gentle. 

skyler dross

☉

Like a match to a flame, the brawl expands to the rest of the establishment. Somewhere chairs are crashing against walls, punches are being thrown, and broken glass litters the salt-stained floor - but Skyler barely pays it any mind.

They're the epicenter of this particular storm.

Drunk on piss-poor tequila and adrenaline and a ruthless, unforgiving sort of wildness, Skyler tips her back and allows laughter to spill from her mouth. The mock punch against her arm is electric, is the shiver and goosebumps that erupt on the back of her neck.

"Sorry to disappoint, Pinkie, but it takes far more than that to scare me 'way." There isn't a drop of apology in her voice. She prowls closer, deliberate, looking for something in Parker's eyes - whether she finds it or not is uncertain. "I don' go there often, my haunts are closer to Lilycove." And wasn't that a shame? 

Skyler grins, hooked on the feeling of shoving her fingers into the flame and damned be the consequences. "You been lookin' for me, Pinkie?"

Why? Is the unspoken question that falls between them like a declaration of war. 

Perhaps there is a harbor lying somewhere behind the silver storm, a safe haven beckoning. Perhaps it is but a will-o-wisp, luring ships to crash upon the shore. Or perhaps it is both, danger and hunger lurking behind a slow curl of lips.

parker jones

☉

closer to lilycove. an ocean away. skyler saunters closer to her as she tells her this and parker bares her teeth, looking at her like an animal. she's not as liquored up as the other woman - not by a mile - but there's something hypnotic about the madness around them. heart thrumming under her skin, crawling all over her body. 

she doesn't say the question that bleeds over that mercury gaze. is it anger? is it sadness? is it regret? none of them should skyler feel, should parker want her to feel. 'cause she's been chasing her thoughts for days now, telling herself shit's just shit and parker just wants trouble. 

or just someone who can punch harder than she can. 

the sea witch drew a fuckin' line in the sand and parker made a promise, but when skyler steps close and someone stumbles into parker from behind, her arms come out, fingers tight on the sides of skyler's arms. 

eyes narrow, lips parted, teeth coming down on soon after, biting, a breathy hiss snaking out of her. salt tickles her nose and her brows furrow.

"you're jus' like me, y'know," she says lowly, voice rough. 

skyler dross

☉

Skyler's an expert at losing herself: in drink, in the dizzying rush of adrenaline, in pushing past limits, in the breathless moment right before she allows gravity to pull her over the edge. She's walking defiance, wrapped up pretty and fierce in sun-kissed skin with primal strength running through her blood. And for all that, she's still heartbreakingly human.

And maybe, through everything that she's allowed between herself and Parker, that's the part that is mirrored back the most.

Flawed right to the core, through no fault of her environment or her upbringing. Flawed in the sense that everything is, to leave a gaping void that tears past the gilded surface to the maelstorm beneath. Don't you have enough? Aren't you happy? Why, why, they ask, why do you keep reaching- why is it always-

More more more.

"Am I?" Skyler's voice is a ragged thing that only reaches parker jones through their closeness. Nails sink into her arms and she finds herself leaning towards their source, wind-bent. Beyond them, violence burst past their bubble to crash at their feet - splashing ruby red all over their shoes and trousers. 

(Am I? Am I? Am I?)

What was Parker hoping to find in her? Was it salvation, or ruination? Perhaps just enough of both to feel beautifully and gloriously alive?

But then a step is taken back, and another. A grip loses its strength and distance grows between them, cold and merciless. Haloed by a mass of struggling thugs, by a riot of violence and debauchery, Skyler tips her chin back in a perfect display of insolent defiance. A challenge. A dare.

Are you really, Pinkie?

"Prove it, then."

More has never, and would never be enough.

parker jones

☉

is she? am i? she searches for answers in the chaotic silence that ensues. 'cause the rest of the world is going to shit around them, but they're far removed, in a pocket in the corner of the universe. and parker thinks why can't they just stay here? why can't she just rip her away and pretend like what happens here doesn't happen out there?

it doesn't have to mean anything. 

that's what she wants. that's what she sees in those beautiful fucking eyes of hers. skyler's built herself a cage and wide as she may make it, it's a cage all the same. sometimes it's just knowing you ain't free. 

but what does parker know? 

nothing but what her gut tells her. why can't she just take what she wants? her lips curl and she wants to - fuck, she wants to, but then skyler's dancing away from her. running away from her. 

tempting her, taunting her. and like a fool, parker will play this game.

with their kinetic bubble dispersed, the crowd surges around them. parker glimpses that wild mane of hair through the throng of undulating bodies. she has to claw her way through them, shoving bodies, just so she can launch her full weight into skyler - shoulder at her stomach, arms around her sides. 

"hail the fuckin' ocean queen," she spits. 

skyler dross

☉

She reads hunger in those eyes, drinks it in, allows the knowledge to sink down to her bones. In another universe, in another timeline, maybe Skyler would’ve let herself fall into them. Would’ve allowed herself to taste adrenaline straight from blood-stained lips and call it something like love, or lust.

Perhaps Skyler isn’t the answer Parker’s looking for, perhaps her dares lead only to an empty siren’s call, an invitation to crash straight into jagged rocks. The captain is familiar enough with self-destruction, taking to the taste of blood on her tongue with a kind of religious fervor.

But for now, in this moment, the world - and all its wonder and troubles - takes a backseat to the center point that is parker jones , and all the strength that rises at Skyler’s bidding. Crashing into her with unmatched ferocity.

Don’t you dare, Pinkie, don’t you dare go easy on me. Don’t you dare-

Parker slams into her like a freight train, and they both go tumbling down onto the floor. Alcohol has numbed her, but a wheeze still leaves her lips at the impact.

Skyler snarls, and it’s a sound of pure animalistic glee. Her legs free themselves to frame Parker’s torso, and a thrust of her hips has them shifting positions. She briefly straddles the woman beneath her before grabbing her shirt and slamming her further into the dirt-encrusted floor.

The captain leans down, mercury-bright eyes awash in the knowledge that she doesn’t have to play nice.

“All hail me.” She throws her arm back and goes for a strike to the face.

parker jones

☉