Birds of a Feather

By: Atara Themis

Writing Prompt: No

Date: 7th Nov 2021

 

“You did your best B. No shame and no judgement here. Gang Gang.” he said, lowering a curled finger to lift her chin. A far cry from the pestering and babbling idiot people thought him to be, Jason Cashe was doing his best to console the woman at his chest. 

 

Curled into him, Atara Themis’ head was tilted so that those Aegean blue orbs that had stolen him away from Baby Blue looked up. Despite having just lost a Multi-Universal title in the first match she had ever performed on her home soil, she didn’t meet his lens-covered eyes with any sign of sadness. Instead they glimmered with contentment and a hint of humour. B he had called her. The word took her mind far from the days defeat.

 

A naturally shaped and plump pout curled into a grin before parting so that her soft rasp crept between them, “They used to call me Bambi when I was little.”

 

The thought made Atara giggle and crunching her nose she inhaled, snorting. It wasn’t even Greek. An Italian word meaning little girl. She couldn’t remember how she came by the name but at that moment it didn’t matter. She had fought Jason on the nickname before this…thing of theirs and now? Now it just fit for whatever reason.

 

“No shit…that’s dope.” Jason quipped and almost instantaneously as if planned Atara beamed wider and gave him her ‘I Know’ retort.

 

“Don’t be a shit,” He huffed before pulling her back into him.

 

In silent embrace they held each other while looking over the city sprawl of Atara’s home city. At the top of Lycabettus Hill, the highest point of Athens, they watched the gradient of twilight slowly darkening to night. The city sparkled with lights and the city’s beacon, the acropolis was illuminated in spotlight. It was, as Cashe would say, romantical as fuck. 

 

Why were they there? Αtara hadn’t the slightest. She had told Cashe of the spot some days earlier when it was suppose to be him and Tara Fenix standing here. Truth be known, Atara had known Tara would never make it. The Grecian had set about sinking her claws in Jason the minute they had all set foot on that cruise ship and something told Atty that Jason knew too. 

 

Maybe it was fate, maybe Atara was really just that good at getting what she wanted but the lateness of the hour made all of this irrelevant for the moment. The cable cars would be shutting down soon and they both had to catch their flight out of Greece. 

 

“As much I love standing here in your supply stink, we should get going soon.” She said into the chest her cheek was pressed.

 

“Good damn B, that’s your shampoo but I wasn’t gonna say anything…hahaha.” Jason’s laugh was cut off with an oof. Atara had responded in kind with an elbow into his gut. 

 

“For real Do–” Atara started while separating from him. Abruptly, she was cut off with a raised warning finger but before Jason could protest she had grabbed it in her hand. He hated the pet name, she knew he hated the name.

 

“…Dove!” She finished in jest. “Why are we here?”

 

Jason jerked his finger and feigned pain holding it in his opposite and gave Atty a look of horror. “Jeezus girl, you got terminator grip. That’s my trigger finger, good gawd!”

 

Unmoved, Atara’s brows arched as she stood hands on hips waiting for an answer.

 

“Ok. Ok. Calm down, looking like my mama. Make me wanna box you. Square up–“

 

“Jason, for real?”

 

“Haha ok. Our weekend, remember it? I did some wandering and found a trinket. Reviewed my notes, made some contacts and had a thing made. Didn’t get a chance to give it to you and I wanted to make sure you got it this time before you put me on waivers.”

 

Atty’s brows shot up again. The notorious weekend that started this whole Twitter drama that had crashed the app and hearts over the last few days. 

 

“Jason, that’s behind us now. Don’t start that Victoria shit. I’m not cutting you this time.” She said trying to convince him otherwise. He had a legitimate concern, everyone knew Atara’s track record.

 

“Yeeeah. Ok. Anywho. Reviewed my notes and I know you hate leaving Greece so…” he started reaching into his pocket and removing a rectangular box. 

 

“An effin necklace…for fucks sake. Really!” Atara spat for reasons people should watch Tara’s Charity Cruise for.

 

“This was before that one, sheesh. It’s more special…like yo–“

 

“Effin kidding me, let’s see it.” Atara took the box begrudgingly and unceremoniously cast off the top. Jason waited with baited breath.

 

Nothing.

 

Silence.

 

“No more weekends, I hear ya.” 

 

Head low, Jason had turned to walk off. Rocks crunched with each step filling the silence between them before Atara’s voice caused his head to perk up.

 

“Hey,” She said.

 

“Yo B?”

 

“Shut up. I love it.”

 

“Yeah?” Jason asked turning. Atara had it already draped around her neck. She held the pendent in her hand rubbing a finger across it. A circle of gold encrusted with diamonds and inlaid in it’s center was a gold coin. Aphrodite sat on her throne with a cockle shell and swan at her side. Aphrodite carved in ancient Greek curbed it’s top. 

 

“Yeah,” she answered with tears welled in her eyes. She did hate leaving Greece and no place in the world could top it. He had thought of giving her a piece to take with her. It was possibly the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given.

 

“Sooo, we’re good for New York, yeah?” Jason asked nervously.

 

“I think I just lost my keys.” Now it was her turn to wait. He knew what it meant or she thought he did.

 

“Geezus, crying over keys. I gotchu. Can pick a lock. Just need a hairpin, boiled egg and some duck sauce.” 

 

“My SUV is keyle…oh my gawd for fuck sake that’s not.. nvm.” Atara rattled off stomping past him with a playful shove at his shoulder.

 

“Oof, crazy and violent. Looks good on you B.” Jason let Atara get just by him before spinning her round at the arm.

 

“I got them right here.”

 

Now Kith

 

—-

 

“Hello Dove,” came the honeyed rasp of Atara. From a tilted head her voice shot up the trained smile of a flight attendant.

 

“Blanket Ma’am?”

 

“No thank you,” Atara responded and turned back a book in her lap as the stewardess moved on. It was a long flight back to the states and so ample reading material and melatonin were on hand. Much to her chagrin though, the snoring dud next her wasn’t allowing much in the way of able thinking to read. 

 

She nudged Cashe with an elbow and her sleeping beau jerked awake startled. Blindly his head spun around looking for the culprit.

 

“Take the eye mask off babe. It’s me.”

 

“Good damn woman, I could’ve killed you! Don’t do that. Hone reflexes from my time…”

 

“Shut up. You were snoring. They almost kicked off the plane.” Atara interjected.

 

“Jerk.” Leaning back he started to escape to dreamland.

 

“Stay awake please. I can’t sleep and I need company,” Atara pleaded, pulling at his arm so that he would comply.

 

“Oh my gawd, fine. What’s up?” He huffed.

 

“Nothing. You’re still wearing the mask.”

 

Jason jerked the mask off and glared with a really? expression plastered on his face. Atara stared back with a mischievous grin on hers.

 

“You wanna know something neat?”

 

“Not really, but shoot. Shooter.”

 

“I’m fighting a Queen of England,” Atara informed excitedly. Her excitement was met in kind.

 

“THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND?”

 

Atara panicked and shot a hand up to cover his mouth ti shush him. She whispered, “Not the Queen. A Queen.”

 

Cashe looked confused as Atara settled back in her chair.

 

“Anne Boleyn, The Anne Boleyn, if she’s to be believed so I am excited because….mother effin Anne Boleyn!”

 

“Never heard of her. She cute?”

 

Slapping his chest in playful admonishment, Atara frowned. Was she cute. He had jokes. Haha.

 

“Yeah, if you like man stealing vixens who wreck families and are dead ass responsible for dismantling sacred institutions.”

 

Jason arched a brow and in reverse of before Atty pointed a finger.

 

“Shut up.” She scolded.

 

“I didn’t say anything….you seem excited. Teach me, teach.”

 

“Well, as you pointed out we have soooo much in common except that I prefer Mary Tudor.” Atara started to lecture.

 

“Who?” Jason asked before Atty waved him off.

 

“Doesn’t matter. Just another woman victim of patriarchal bullshit and villainized whose reign has been slandered and ridiculed for hundreds of years because…ha. Vagina.”

 

“Vagina is Do–“

 

Atty didn’t give him the chance before starting back up on her history lecture.

 

“Me and Anne though. We’re two women too damn good at what we do and we have a habit of getting ourselves into a heap of trouble. Unlike her though, I dig myself out and don’t have to fuck my brother to try.”

 

“She fucked who? That’s some mountain people booshit!” Jason interjected 

 

 “I know right! Some Tennessee farm girl type shit. Some marry anything and anyone so you don’t have to wank a donkey dick anymore type shit. Some didn’t keep your man fed so he found a hoe with the sandwich type shit and now you’re panicking trying to suck all the dicks. Giving head to keep your head type shit. Pulling your whole family to the chopping block trying to save your ass type shit. Some scared bish knows the new Queen is gonna put you out type shit” Atty said almost breaking into rap. 

 

“HA…shade! You’re cute when you try to be gangster. Hood Honey…hahahaha”

 

“Shut up Jason. Anne Boleyn is serious business. She’s kind of an idol. She’s schemed around Tudor era politics and might have kept her head if not for religion. If there had been a little more reason, a little more science and little less misogyny history might be a whole hell of a lot different. I feel for her. All these years and she comes back to this shit show we call a planet only to get her face smashed in by…rest in peace, God save her soul…” Atty paused to make the mark of the cross at her chest.

 

“…Drucilla and then her one shining moment at the tower was conquering the King of the losers and she couldn’t even do that without help. I pity her…”

 

“Slow down B. Catch a breath sheesh.” Jason advised allowing for Atara to do exactly that and with fresh breath she started again.

 

“I pity her because she is a Queen with no crown, no throne and no country. I pity her because she’s booked against THE GODDESS, not some basement dwelling D&D nerd with a stat sheet just penning it in. And babe, I’m gonna spare you my whole divine right spill because I’ve used it before against alleged…Queens, but it’s the heavens that decide the heavy heads. It’s by divine power royalty is chose, the status quo is set, and I am one angry Theoi with a fucking score to settle against some petty, rightfully afraid  bishes and heads are going to fucking roll.”

 

“Good damn, I think I pissed myself. Not really hahaha, you good B. Can we sleep now?”

 

“Yeah, that bitch Ophelia better take notice because like Shakespeare her shits ending in tragedy too. If it shines, it’s mine.”

 

-Fin