the sweetheart of famine

task: likes & dislikes ♡

Throughout the years he’d known her, Jessica Reyes was a friend that Liam found to be relentless in her affection and energy. It was no surprise to find himself subject to hugs and compliments abounds in her company, especially it seemed, on occasions such as his birthday. He rubbed the back of his neck which he knew was probably a little bit heated, a wry grin on his lips, slightly abashed in the face of her needling. 

“Well I could hardly show up in my day to day lounge wear meant for home only, could I?” If he’d tried to leave his house in anything other than something suited for a party, he’s sure the combined powers of both Greer and Jess would have had him trapped in something he would never want to see the light of day. 

“It’s been fun though, really. You’re going to find this hard to believe but I’d never been to an arcade before today.” But the inexperience of it all certainly made the affair all the more exciting, the novelty of it all held with more curiosity than he was sure most thirty five year olds held. “Do you have a favorite arcade game I must experience? Or a most hated?” 

Every time Jessica met Liam, she learned something new about him, from the moment they’d met at a wine-tasting class to the first time they’d seen each other at a truce anniversary, to, well, now. But this admission had to be one of the more surprising ones yet, and she couldn’t help gasping theatrically. “No! Really? Liam. Where have you been all your life?” Then she giggled, leaning in to say confidentially, “Alright, honestly, same? My brother was into them for a hot second but I never made an effort unless I wanted to impress someone.” She didn’t feel at all conscious about sharing this with Liam now that she knew he was new to it, too. “But I've made it a point to try everything at least once since Sam and I discovered this place.” She gazed into the distance to where she could see Samir talking someone through a game, a genuinely excited smile on his face, and grinned. “And it's pretty cool. If you want to be a complete nerd, anyway.” Said with affection, as always.

The novelty of being asked for her thoughts on video games rather than fashion made Jessica glow with pleasure, and she paused to think before perking up. “Ooooh, I love Street Fighter 2—it might feel a lot like button-mashing while you’re figuring things out, but once you get the hang of it, it’s really fun. I usually play Chun-Li unless I’m tipsy and wanna risk it all.” She pointed out the fighter’s face on a nearby console. “I like Mrs. Pac-Man and Guitar Hero, too. But if you wanna play a game that’s 100% Jess, there’s Pump It Up. Think DDR, but the music’s actually current. We can play that if you want.” She glanced over at a bright pink and purple-colored console, waggling her eyebrows teasingly. “I’ll even play with one eye closed. Give you a better chance and all.”

Whoever assigned Jessica Reyes and Evren Sadık the same room at the Manor either knew exactly what they were doing, or wanted to give both of them a taste of their own medicine. Jessica had breathed the biggest sigh of relief upon seeing her old friend earlier that afternoon, pulling her into a big hug once they were safely in the confines of their room on the second floor (with an enthusiastic, very heartfelt “Ev, thank god it’s you!”), then started laughing when she saw the massive pile of luggage by the door. Everything was branded, exactly as it should be, but whether they’d have space to even walk through the room once they finally unpacked—well, that was another story.

Jess knew the different room assignments from having helped clean the rooms earlier—a trial for someone who barely cleaned her own! Cruel and unusual punishment!—and she knew she had it good. So as she sat through the excruciatingly awkward dinner in the rose garden, trying to keep a conversation going between herself and two unsmiling Powers, she counted down the minutes until she could return. Then after passing by the Dominion table to say good night to Ravi with a hand squeeze and a nod at the other seated Dominions, she made her way back through the Manor, taking in its art deco glamour, fingers trailing across various pieces of furniture: the brocade of faded couches, high polish of lacquered wood, 

Footsteps sounded somewhere behind her, and turning on her heel, she saw Evren in all her stylish Paris Fashion Week glory. (Leave it to a former model to brighten up every single room she stood in.) “Hey, does Rita always oversalt her meals, or is this her way of trying to end the Truce?” she said by way of greeting, lips twitching into a grin at her joke. She then leaned against the banister of the stairwell and raised an eyebrow. “So, do you have any plans tonight? A spicy rendezvous? Sadık sibling gossip sesh? Or are we turning in for a very, very—” She glanced at her Lady Datejust, half-grimacing but smiling too, “—very early night?”

where; jessica’s birthday party whomst; jessica @realjessicareyes​ when; july 1

He’d moved to theater duty to get away from this sort of noise. Kids partied way too loud these days. They were excellent business, but fuck. Good thing they made transparent earplugs so he could actually hear. Not that the music was worth hearing, who the fuck composed this nonsense? He could’ve done better. Where was the beat? This was atrocious.

Nevermind, he’d have to deal with that later. After all he was here on business. Cupid sold well at these sort of parties, and Jess’s friends were good buyers. Apollo did have to admit it was easier doing business on person than over Twitter.

“If I sell you more,” he argued with one of the guests, “You’re going to pass out in the bathroom. You’re no good to me if you OD. No. Find me tomorrow, I’m cutting you off.” He glanced over as the birthday girl approached. “Ah, birthday girl. Enjoying your headache– I mean, your party?”

–

If there was one good thing about the Truce, as little as she trusted it, it was that it had come right in time for Jessica’s birthday. Now she could invite Samir and Evren, Fletcher and Monz and more—her friends across the gangs who could keep their secret. How long would this last? Jessica had no idea. But while peace existed and music blared throughout the Sky Garden, circus performers on stilts bowing to Jessica as she waltzed through the room in her ringmaster outfit, pulling old school friends into giggling embraces and stealing kisses from others as her brown eyes glimmered with light and joy and just a little bit of Cupid—it was perfect.

She had just breezed past the matching jugglers when she saw a tall, looming man in what had to be the cutest outfit ever—cute, but very much not in theme. But it made sense because after all, it was Apollo Park, the man who slid into people’s Twitter DMs to sell drugs. As the guest he seemed to be telling off headed to the bathroom in her slinky gold dress and Euphoria makeup, Jess blew the LVMH heiress a kiss and walked right up to the Pestilence Virtue, remarking, “Apollo, you are the most dad dealer I have ever seen in my life.” She didn’t even bother hiding her grin as she crossed her arms and looked up at him. “Are you gonna help sober them up later too? Tuck them into bed?”

The heat of summer subsided in the late Cheshire afternoon, and under the shade of the trees, Jessica sank beneath the surface of the water, her hair flowing around her as she kicked off the edge of the pool. For a few minutes, the world slipped away: thoughts of The Manor, where a few dozen gang members paced restlessly, waiting for news; the calls made to family friends and contacts about her missing uncle, whose condition she couldn’t help worrying about; her brother, newly named Seraphim and stepping up for a plan he and Rafael had devised; her boyfriend, who had smiled when she pulled him into a corner to say hello, but whose thoughts were inscrutable as always, the Dominion ever unwilling to get her caught in a twisted web she didn’t need to be involved in.

Though hearing Evren’s name paired with hers yesterday had made her sigh in relief, keeping everyone under one roof for longer than the duration of a party felt a recipe for disaster. But time was of the essence, and the more quickly they shared information, the more chances they would have of finding their Horsemen. Besides, the cousins needed their uncle, and Rafael, his father—and as she reached the end of the pool, springing off to start her next lap, she couldn’t help wishing that she would resurface to the warm, familiar sight of Rafael Femenias Senior in his tropical print robe and colorful swim trunks, his signature margarita in each hand and a big grin on his tanned face.

When Jessica emerged above water a few laps later, she combed her slick hair out of her eyes and turned her face towards the sun. “God, that feels good,” she breathed, the cold water, the warmth of the sun, and even the gentle birdsong reminding her of the Femenias estate, of home. Then as she blinked away the chlorinated water, she saw a familiar figure at the edge of the pool—Marcus—and lit up, gracefully making her way over. “Hey, Marcy, how’s it going? Have you heard anything about Tío?” she called as she approached; she’d left the Red Drawing Room a couple of hours before, not finding the tension conducive to the task, and made her calls on one of the balconies instead. Then, as she reached the edge of the pool, facial expression attentive yet the most casual it had ever been, she put her hands together and aimed a stream of water right at her brother’s face.

She’s nodding as her cousin speaks but she’s only half listening, simultaneously running through a checklist in her head that she wishes she’d had the foresight to write down. Every intrepid step forwards is a new one for her, venturing into the uncharted land of project management beyond setting up a few underground fights in a stale-sweat-scented gym ( which she misses, deary, if she’s honest — but times have changed and a simple boxing match is no longer enough to satiate hunger ). If only her high school teachers could see her now. “You can tell them it’s going to be a fucking bloodbath,” she promises. They need to deliver on this. She needs to deliver on this. Her dark gaze trained on the television screen, looking without really seeing as her thoughts pace restlessly through her skull, she tears her attention from luminous pixels to study Jessica’s perfectly and expertly applied makeup before meeting the other woman’s glinting brown eyes. “Enthusiastic thank yous as in a few tips? Or favours?” Truth be told it was somewhat surprising, despite the world they belonged to, quite how many people were keen to embrace catharsis and bloodthirst. Self-made deities watching the demise of a damned mortal for their own pleasure. 

A small smile flits sparingly across her lips as a reassuring palm grazes her arm, lifting a hand to brush her fingertips against the back of Jessica’s knuckles in silent thanks. “Yeah, I’m— you know—” she shrugs but the attempt to portray nonchalance falls flat. “Fucking nervous about how people will react to it. And whether it works well. And if we make a decent profit.” Kitty forces a laugh to be exhaled, attempting to dispel some of the tension that has gathered in her chest. Honesty spills like a drunk man’s drink. “This is the first time I’ve ever tried to create something of my own for Famine. I’ve always been good at carrying out the orders I’m given by Raf and Uncle Rafael but I’ve never really done anything where people say yeah, wow, that was Kitty’s idea.” It isn’t self-pity, simply fact. 

There was opportunity lurking here too to finally step out from the haunting shadow of Thomas. Her mentor has been breathing down her neck ever since she slipped into their Virtue role. Even from beyond the grave, with every fuck up she achieved, their disappointment was palpable. What had she done to deserve being promoted? Hopefully, after tonight, something. She gives a small, stubborn, resolute nod. “I want it to go well. And not even just for me.” Kitty glances at their giddily engaged Seraphim who a few weeks ago had been comatose and bed-bound. “I think he could do with a win for Famine. One that isn’t related to gang wars.” Her engagement present to the happy couple, soon to be lain at Rafael’s feet like a cat’s fresh kill: bloody and gruesome but brimming with love. “Are you going to be watching?”

If there was one thing Famine knew how to do, it was how to put on a show. Though they dealt in hedonism, gluttony, and greed—in creating hunger, then satisfying it beyond measure—Famine had less blood on their hands than the other gangs throughout their century of existence. Sure, their enterprises were illegal in excess, in moderation, they were... pleasurable—something that had given Jessica a strange sort of satisfaction as she rose from Angel to Power in her family’s criminal empire. But tonight, they would start having a body count. For real.

At first, Jessica had been buoyed by the challenge of the game, but when she stopped to think about it—no, allowed herself to, after using every waking moment to distract herself—Cat and Mouse was far more dangerous, and far bloodier, than anything else that Famine had ever created. It’s a test of skill, she had told one would-be investor weeks before. A game of survival using the city as your weapon, she’d told another. She had known better than to start with death, instead sparking people’s curiosity, whetting their appetite, and saying everything except the simple truth: We’ll force people to fight, and film them until one is dead. Not until she was sure that they were in. Not until she could read the hunger on their faces. But she knew what she was selling—and who was she to want the moral high ground when she was helping pull the strings? Even if she told herself that she would keep the game from going too far, or that her presence would keep them safer than if anyone else did it.

Thinking too hard about it tonight—of all nights—would be a recipe for disaster, so Jessica didn’t, keeping a smile on her face as she noted Kitty’s words. It’s going to be a fucking bloodbath. “Favors,” she replied lightly, “and, if we give a good show, a few more open doors.” Little was inaccessible to Famine, but delivering on their promise would bolster their reputation further among those who hungered for darker entertainment. Then her expression softened at Kitty’s next words; admitting nervousness was rare, especially when it had to do with something she knew like the back of her hand. “Hey, a wise person once told me that if you aren’t scared, you didn’t dream big enough.” (Sure, it had been her first boss in marketing, and Lillian would be shocked to hear Jess quoting it before a goddamn death game, but hey. Life.) “Cat and Mouse is already huge, and if this is your first idea, how much more will you be able to do once you’ve got this under your belt?” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Besides, you’ve got the best minds in Famine working on this: you, Ky, Wren, me. There’s nothing that could happen that we haven’t already thought of.” She laughed out loud at her next thought. “And haven’t we learned enough about rolling with the punches from stopping Raf’s Vegas weddings, like, seven times already?”

𝐉𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀,

It was almost as though the melody was inscribed into her bones, orchestrating her fluid movements as she danced with serpentine grace. He, reduced to a watcher from afar, needn’t look around to know that he wasn’t the only one. Even if she, too, didn’t pay them any attention, surely she knew she was above average. Invited to move from one partner to another, she was lost to the crowd every now and then. And it beckoned him to move closer, pursuing an semicircular path with plenty of distance remaining in between like a hawk to a crow. 

She continued to float around, the feathers of her skirt iridescent, and eventually — seemed to look away from her current partner when they got close. That was when their gazes first locked into place, Fazal’s face difficult to make out provided the mask that was covering most of it. And even if she couldn’t see him properly, he hoped she would feel him on her at least.  The way his eyes caressed the curves of her body. The natural pull invading the mental space, an air of enticing familiarity that hovered over his body. A tension so thick, it was difficult to breathe — especially if one was dancing. Everyone else faded into the background as the energy surrounding them crackled in the air. 

Chemistry.

Her partner swirled her around and the spell was broken. 

And despite his attire, Fazal Khan did a good job at hiding himself from her sight from the moment on. Orchestral music was a reach from his comfort zone, but he was a fast learner and a more-than-good observer. He snaked his way closer, with a footing that almost mimicked the rhythm of the orchestra, once she was guided to dance with her back to him. Again, she spun like a ballerina, and he — Fazal — seized the opportunity to substitute her former partner. At once, their fingers intertwined while his other hand roughly pulled her in by the waist, instantly engulfed in the rich scent of her perfume. The color of his eyes matched that of his mask, reflecting her perfect, concealed face so close, with a taste of his own arrogance. 

This wasn’t the truce that Jessica imagined when the first fell apart. Tonight had none of the glamour that she’d come to associate with truce anniversaries over the years; York Road Station was a ruin, smelling of dust and neglect, and no orchestra or formal dress code would make up for what it lacked. But idleness was the devil’s playground, and Jessica was bored. Distrustful. And, after a buzz that she’d ensured came from Famine’s own sources, restless. And so, as the opening notes of Dance of the Knights from Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet began, she’d drawn one stranger to dance with her, then another, caution drawing her spine ramrod straight, gaze traveling down suits and dresses for a telltale flash of a blade or gun. The look in her eyes challenging, I dare you. You don’t know who I am, but you will.

And that was when she saw a stranger’s dark eyes meet hers through a plague doctor mask as she moved past, the iridescent oil spill green-black feathers of her dress brushing against his trousers. It was bold when others had averted their gaze—daring in a way she hadn’t felt in public in a while. Not among the gangs. But the next moment he was gone, swallowed up by the shadows that the light from the candelabras had created, and she followed the shift in the music, ready to disengage herself from her partner, when she glided out of his grasp and into another’s.

It was him. Wasn’t it? Jessica’s eyes scanned her new partner, searching for telltale signs that it was Fazal, but the sharp beak of the mask obscured his features, the turtleneck hiding the familiar hollow of his throat from view. Even the hand that clasped her own, the other resting on her waist, wore leather gloves. But the way he held her, the sure set of his jaw, was Fazal through and through—proud, haughty, confident in his certainty that he couldn’t break her. It was the intensity that she eased away in private with affectionate taunts and laughter, but with their masks on, they could be anyone, couldn’t they? There was no way she would know the touch of a man who’d come to help her one winter night, just once, by heart.

*✧･ﾟ:* jessica’s 29th birthday *:･ﾟ✧*　

Jessica rings in the last year of her twenties with a carnival-themed celebration that transforms the Sky Garden into a riot of warmth and color. 

Outside the grand circus tent are smaller attractions: a carousel, a tarot reader, performers on stilts, and a few circus animals, including parrots and a couple of tame tigers. But inside is a show that’s part circus, part magic show, all glamour. A juggler and fire-eater take the stage, followed by twin aerial silk performers. Friends are invited to test themselves in feats of strength or to have their minds read by a world-famous mentalist. Big cats roar and perform simple tricks before Jessica, dressed as a ringmaster, comes in to assist the magician during his act, even taking the spotlight during a knife-throwing bit that shocks and surprises her non-gang friends. Free-flowing drinks are provided throughout the night, as well as a variety of areas suitable for photo ops.

Later in the evening, as the lights dim and the music changes, Jessica changes into a diamond-encrusted champagne dress and dances with her friends and family. The night ends with an extravagant fireworks display over the London skyline.