content warning: drugs, unreality
notes: takes place during the Great Party

Pop, crackle, fireworks in the sky; the stars above white like clusters of little maggots nesting inside a gangrene-black arm. Anamelech reached up with a paw, twisting out her toes as if she could somehow conjure the light into her grip and squeeze the honey out of them. Starblood was trickling, cold as quicksilver and bright as mercury, out the corners of her mouth. Her feet were sore from dancing and she realized that the longer she looked at the sky, the more it hurt her eyes, so she kept her gaze to the ground as she walked.

Anamelech's problem (well, one of them) had been that she always wanted too much of something. If she saw a pretty star, she had to pull them all down from the sky, so no one else could enjoy them. If she saw cute little toys, no toy chest in the world was large enough to contain the quantity of all she would ever hope to want. If she tried a nice drink or sampled an intriguing substance, she would drink and consume until she hit the bottom, and once she hit the bottom of the barrel, the only bottom left to hit was the bottom of her brain.

And she had gone so high, she had gone so very high, she still had stardust glittering on her fingertips.

But you could only go so high before you come back down.

Somehow, Anamelech found herself pacing the lake, far from any festivities and not spooned in the company of her entourage like a fat dragon lounging on a pile of treasure. Anamelech blinked, wondering, how did she end up here? Where was everyone? Thetis? Roman? Noah? Hanna? Sphinx? Ren? Judah? Maverick--

"--Maveeerickkk," Anamelech tried to singsong, coming out as a slur; she grit her teeth and clenched her jaw against the wave of STATIC that crashed through her brain. Static chilled her to the bone and filled her heartbeat, buzz buzz buzz instead of thump thump thump. "Maverick," Anamelech unlatched her jaw to release another coo, "Where are you?"

Anamelech blinked through her blurred vision. Seeing was a challenge, so she followed her nose instead, hobbling drunkenly along on paws almost too clumsy to cooperate, but a Queen and a God made all things bend to her will. Again she called out for Maverick. She called out again and again and again until--

Her darkling aunt. Her pretty little pet. She smelled of roses and musk, and she carried hints of turquoise that was so uniquely reminiscent of Anamelech's mysterious grandmother. Anamelech rushed to Maverick's side, almost stumbling in the process, and shoved her face into her pelt. "Darling where'd you goooo? I m-missed you. I've been so cold w-without you," cried Ana. Oh, but she was dreadfully cold. It didn't matter. All she needed was another taste of ambrosia, and then she'd be right back to normal.

She was drooling into Maverick's fur. But it was in Maverick's best interest not to point that out. "My head hurts," groaned Anamelech.