ataulis

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𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇  𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄  𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓  𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄  vacationing  in  greece  places  her  at  kitron,  &  though  she'd  marveled  at  the  grandiosity  of  the  interior  at  first,  she'd  quickly  grown  tired  of  answering  the  typical  distant  relative  questions  —  what  are  you  studying?  what  do  you  plan  to  do  with  your  degree  once  you're  done?  oh,  i  know  you  just  got  here,  genie,  but  you've  got  to  have  a  plan.  have  you  looked  into  a  summer  job  yet?  i  know  it's  only  fall,  but  it's  good  to  be  prepared.  she'd  excused  herself  to  find  the  bathroom  to  catch  just  a  glimpse  of  reprieve  from  the  badgering,  a  puff  of  air  blowing  loose  strands  of  hair  out  of  her  face  as  she  rounds  a  corner  —  only  to  be  entirely  accosted  from  the  side  &  nearly  sent  flying.    “  hey  !  ”     she  scowls,  turning  to  the  imposing  force,  only  to  find  that  he's  searching  the  floor  for  something  &  uttering  a  very  insincere-sounding  apology.  “  i'm  fine,  no  thanks  to  you,  ”   she  mutters  with  an  irritable  frown,  small  hands  smoothing  her  dress  back  into  place.  an  expression  of  recognition  crosses  her  features  at  the  sight  of  him,  &  then  realization  when  it  occurs  to  her  where  she's  seen  him  before:  avila's  roster.    “  phosphorus,  ”     she  exhales,  her  tone  dreamy,  excitable  —  like  she's  found  a  missing  piece  of  a  puzzle.  she  steps  slightly  closer,  sticking  a  hand  in  the  space  between  them  (  and  inadvertently  —  or  maybe  entirely  intentionally  —  blocking  his  line  of  sight  )  for  an  introductory  shake.    “  i  knew  you  looked  familiar.  i'm  genie.  ”     her  lips  curl  up  in  a  coy,  proud  smile.   “  iphigenia.  ”

𝒻𝑜𝓇  :   anyone   !

𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖗  :   8:30pm, after dinner rush  .

𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟  :    kitron , back of house .

𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵 of a certain bag of goodies that had peeked out the pocket of a passing server; the vibrancy of green & smell of the purest herb mankind has to offer making its way through the swinging doors of kitron's kitchen — stealthily following behind — & scampering behind vent hoods that block the maître de from spotting the intruder. he's swift in conversation when they've noticed him tailing behind, flashing them a smile & distracting them long enough to swipe it with skillful paws, luring them in with a tone of interest as he lets them pander on; complaining about the tightness of their shoes & reciprocating with a promise of a massage, coy in offer ( he won't see them again, god willing ) — before he's being snatched at the collar by a burly chef; a man of great stature & a penchant for shouting berations should anything go wrong in his kitchen. lucky's shining an innocent smile before he's being dragged out, sweatshirt lifting at his throat & body shoved through double doors without a second to waste. a gruff ' stay the fuck out ' as he's jostled forward with a strong ' oof ' , knocking back a walking bystander & nearly taking them both out. he's smacking his teeth with nonchalance, shaking his head at the baggie that's fallen somewhere near them during the scuffle. ❝ rada rada, ❞ he mocks without looking back, eyes searching around the floor for it, not yet having met their stare. ❝ my bad dog, you good ? ❞

[ataulis]

𝐃𝐎𝐄  𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒  𝐖𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍  𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑-𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘  when  it  occurs  to  her,  suddenly  &  all  at  once,  just  who  exactly  she's  asked  for  help.    “  théo  !  ”    the  realization  leaves  her  in  a  verbal  exclamation,  &  for  a  moment,  she  seems  to  flail,  busying  her  hands  with  different  tasks  in  rapid  succession  —  outstretching  them  in  front  of  her  in  surprise,  before  one  covers  her  own  mouth  in  surprise  at  her  own  volume,  then  moving  to  tuck  her  hair  behind  her  ears,  before  coming  to  rest,  folded  politely  behind  her  back.  despite  her  awkward  fumbling,  she  absolutely  beams  up  at  him  —  up  being  the  keyword  —  &  suddenly,  she  feels  like  a  kid  again,  ogling  at  the  charming  older  boys  at  school  who  wouldn't  even  look  twice  in  her  direction.  “  god,  i . . . i  knew  you'd  come  to  daskalos,  but  i  didn't  think  i  would  run  into  you  so  soon . . .  ”  théodore,  after  all  these  years,  is  so  awfully  different  &  also,  somehow,  all  the  same;  tall  &  suave  &  self-assured  &  oh-so  charming.  her  gaze  tracks  his  hand  as  he  plucks  that  damn  book  off  the  shelf,  &  she  wonders  if  the  heat  rising  to  her  cheeks  is  visible.    “  yes,  well  —  it's  not  like  it'll  be  very  hard,  ”   she  tries,  grinning  in  jest.  it's  her  best  shot  at  mirroring  that  same  sort  of  confidence  he  seems  to  radiate  endlessly,  shrugging  a  shoulder  in  an  attempt  to  make  it  all  seem  effortless,  but  it's  clear  as  day  that  she's  trying  so  very  hard.  small  hands  wrap  around  the  book,  fingertips  grazing  over  the  embossed  title  wistfully  —  the  way  he  hands  it  to  her  makes  it  feels  like  a  gift.   “  it's  such  an  honor,  ”    the  words  leave  her  on  an  exhale,  almost  absentmindedly,  as  she  reflects  on  what  the  book  implies:  her  official  first  step  into  this  intellectual  community,  this  society.  the  dionysia.  grateful  doesn't  even  begin  to  describe  it.  his  question  draws  her  out  of  her  musing,  &  she  looks  up  at  him  once  more,  that  beaming  smile  making  another  appearance.   “  oh,  of  course  !  it's  the  least  i  can  do,  since,  you  know  —  you  helped  me  &  all.  plus,  what  else  are  old  friends  for  ?  ”     her  grin  turns  nervous.  is  labeling  herself  an  old  friend  too  transgressive  a  label,  shoehorning  herself  into  his  life  ?  she  doesn't  consider  for  even  a  moment  that  she's  playing  right  into  one  of  his  little  games. . . or  that  he  likely  owns  his  own  copy  of  the  book  already.

he  noticed  her  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye,   an  unforgotten  face  in  an  all-too-familiar  sight  of  struggle.   figure  much  smaller  than  his  own  with  hands  barely  grazing  the  top  of,   well,   anything   ...   the  image  of  her  reaching  for  the  book  and  ultimately,   falling  to  the  mercy  of  height  and  gravity,   echoed  back  to  their  years  in  leather-bound  textbooks  and  school-issued  uniforms.   “   doesn't  this  feel  a  little   ...   deja  vu   ?   ”   tucked  between  bookshelves,   doe  eyes  looking  up  at  him  to  come  to  her  aid  in  reaching  for  something  far  out  of  her  reach.   metaphorically  and  literally.   at  her  request,   he  met  her  with  a  knowing  smile  and  a  chuckle,   followed  by  a  shake  of  his  head.   “   this  one   ?   ”   his  hand  caught  the  copy  without  so  much  of  a  struggle,   hues  tracing  over  the  title  with  a  knowing  smile.   with  a  sheepish  smile  and  ribbons  woven  between  brunette  locks,   there's  no  hiding  the  innocence  only  youth  and  inexperience  would  foster   —   even  after  all  these  years,   nothing  about  her  had  changed.   “   getting  ahead  of  the  curve,   new  girl   ?   you're  gonna  show  us  all  up,   ”   he  teased  before  offering  her  the  book.   “   promise  that  you'll  share  this  with  me  when  you  get  it   ?   ”

[ataulis]

fmk: lore, kaleo, kat

“  wait,  i  remember  this  game  from  school  !  i  haven't  played  it  in  ages.  first  of  all,  i'm  killing  kaleo. sorry  —  that's  mean.  but  i  got  his  phone  number  off  of  the  club  roster  &  texted  him  to  introduce  myself  &  he  totally  blew  me  off.  i  was  like,   '  hi,  i'm  genie!  nice  to  meet  you!  we  have  the  same  mentor!  '   and  he  was  like,   '  lmao  okay. '    like,  what  ?  at  least  say  hi  back.  weirdo.  anyways,  umm,  i  think  i'd  marry  lore,  'cause  she  &  i  get  along  great.  we  could  adopt,  like,  so  many  cats  together. &  then  i'd ... well,  y'know,  with  kat.  i  don't  know  her  that  well  but  she's  a  total  bombshell.  i  don't  think  she'd  like  me  like  that,  though ...  also,  i've  never ... um ... with  a  girl.  or  with  anyone,  for  that  matter ...  ”

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Smash or Pass + Ty

“  oh  !  well,  ty  &  i  are  good  friends,  i  think,  so  i  don't  want  them  to  think  i'm  weird  or  anything,  but. . .  smash.  i  dunno,  okay  ?  they're  just  so  good  at  commanding  a  room.  it's  hard  not  to  swoon  when  they're  speaking  during  mock  trial. . .  anyways.  forget  i  said  anything  —  and  promise  you  won't  tell  them  ?  ”

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Send Smash or Pass + a name and my muse will say if they would smash or pass on that person.

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Send me an ask with 3 options for my muse to FMK! Please specify muse to answer!

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Send 🗣to hear how my muse would describe yours.

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open  starter​​​​​​​  ⇢​​​​​​​  𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊.

𝓼𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 . . .  daskalos  bookstore.

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃  𝐈𝐒  𝐍𝐎𝐓  𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓  𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐇𝐄𝐑,  or  at  least  for  people  of  her  stature  —  she’s  been  at  it  for  ten  whole  minutes  now,  reaching  high  above  her  head  for  the  book  in  question.  if  she  were  more  susceptible  to  spiteful  thoughts,  she  would’ve  cursed  avila  for  having  an  𝓐  name  &  causing  his  works  to reside  on  the  top  shelf,  but  she  adores  the  man  far  too  much  for  that,  &  besides  —  the  first  assignment  of  the  year  is  her  namesake,  for  god’s  sakes.  it  would  feel  like  utter  betrayal  to  be  even  the  slightest  bit  annoyed.  she’s  tried  it  all  —  jumping  up,  using  another  book  to  knock  it  off  the  shelf  —  &  now  she’s  resorted  to  one  of  the  more  precarious  options:  standing  on  top  of  a  stack  of  books  on  her  tiptoes,  lip  caught  between  her  teeth  as  she  reaches  &  reaches. . . until  the  stack  crumbles  from  underneath  her,  &  before  she  knows  it,  her  ass  meets  the  outdated,  scratchy  carpet.  with  a  wince,  she  grumbles  &  pulls  herself  up,  huffing  to  blow  the  strands  of  hair  that  have  fallen  from  their  ribbons  &  into  her  face.  footsteps  to  her  left  draw  her  attention,  &  she  turns  to  her  new  company,  smiling  sheepishly.    “  do  you,  uh  …  ”    she  turns  her  gaze  up  to  the  book,  still  sitting  smugly  upon  its  shelf.    “  do  you  mind  ?  ”

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agamemnon:  oh  immovable  law  of  heaven  !   oh  my  anguish,  my  relentless  fate  ! 

. . .

genevieve  caldwell  :  aka  IPHIGENIA. a  dependent  muse  blog  for  daskaloshq.

. . .

clytemnestra:  yours ?   mine.   hers.  no  relenting  for  any  of  us.

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matildadjerf

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fyodor dostoevsky (the brothers karamazov), charles bukowski (a vote for the gentle light)

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Katie Douglas in Mary Kills People (2017-2019)

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𝑔𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝒹𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁 . . . tags.