In(toxic)ated
Date: May 1st Location: House of Yes Availability: @fuisecg​
There were a lot of things good people were that Ro was decidedly not, but one trait shared oddly was her devout religious stance. Ro may have qualms with her gifts, but she didn’t, not for one second, ever think being a fey was less than amazing and she was thankful for being alive another day, another asskicking. Sometimes, she thought the gods smiled on her. Sometimes, she thought she could hear the land talk to her. Not that she’d ever say it. Not that she’d ever admit to it. All the same, she felt she owed them something in return, so the high holy days were favourites of Ro: she wouldn’t miss them.
Beltaine was... her least favourite, however. Sex, that she could handle, as long as nothing messy got attached to it and left her unravelled like a forgotten Imbolc sweater. But this holiday was about love, too; about flowers and fertility and the heat of summer. Those, she’d avoid like the plague. Tried to stay firm on the nudity and buckwild aspect of it, at the least. Ro was wearing her staple leather jacket and beanie the colour of dried blood, along with mens’ style underwear and not much else. Heading toward the dance floor, Ro realized this was probably the best time to fuck with the elixirs she normally didn’t indulge too much in.
She had already drank a #69 to get in the mood and knew that mixing elixirs was generally frowned on, but she also knew Malachite and figured that the usual Beltaine mix wouldn’t counteract too badly if you stuck to two. Ro was going for a #10 to try to make her half as jovial as the fucks around her when she ran into Lark—and who better to get elixir-mad with than her? “Oi, Lark!” Ro said, yellow vial in hand, not yet drunk, but a smile on her face all the same: a sardonic, lascivious one marking mischief. “A little birdie told me you carved up a human with the gift I gave you, tsk tsk,” she said. “A shame it was an accident.”
