skeletonkee-blog

[skeletonkee-blog]

winterwolfharper:

One thing a fighter always had to do was keep himself in shape. One thing a bodyguard always needed to do was make sure he was in peak physical form to protect his next detail. And so, training was something William was always taking seriously. He spent as much time in a gym as he did by a bar. Leaving little room for the wolf to sleep. One cheat day a week was spent lazing in a bed, and sometimes, on a very rare occasion, even that was a workout given the company brought in with him. But today, today was not a cheat day. No today was the day after a cheat day.

Every vein in his upper body looked like it was fighting to stay below the skin as the wolf pushed himself and fought to get past the exhaustion slowly creeping up on him after four hours of being at this and not resting. The camel pack at his waist was almost empty but he was nowhere near done. He would only take five minutes to refill and get back at it. The rope slapped against the mat in a rhythm easy to follow once one was into it. And that’s when he watched someone watch him. “Use your favorite song.” He said. “The rest is mind over matter.”

         Back in Ireland Kee's workout usually consisted of some kind of cardio workout. If she lifted at all it was moderate, just enough to keep the stresses of her job in check --- to ensure she wouldn’t pop a blood vessel or keel over when trying to drag a body about. It didn’t seem wise to run about in the Fae realm and for years she took her workout to whichever gym was nearest. No lifting --- not today at least, but laps around the establishment. Enough to douse her person in sweat by the time she came to take a break, seeking a few mouthfuls of water from her bottle to keep from overheating.

By the time she realized someone was speaking her eyes had found them, narrowed as they shared their methods. “Aye, ‘ll keep t’at ‘n mind.” She responded, abstaining from keeping the disinterest in her tone.

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amaranthine-agony:

“Hey, you,” she barked, sending a small spark to their shoulder to ensure she had their attention. “Be a precious dear, and get an old hag a hot dog?” She dragged out a small pouch of copper coins and paper bills. “Fucking High Fae vendor over there won’t sell to Chimera, and I’m hungry.”

         Eyes watched the spark flicker to her shoulder, waited to see if it would spread or die to decide the next set of actions. When the little lick of flame disappeared Kee’s attention shifted to the creature. Interested was the decided expression, though admittedly even Kee was quite taken aback. All of her years in the Court and she had not seen one of these beings --- she was sure she heard the name somewhere. Only when the other mentioned it did it click. Criminal, treasonist, murderer. She knew of two of those three things, but nothing more. At least the hot dog vendor seemed not to mind humans, and when Kee returned with the food in tow she held it out as the Chimera shifted about for change. “I’d be inclined to assume he had something for you, the way he peered at you as he served me. Stared like he desired you more than he despised you.”

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kora-valentine: 

Kora watched the woman move, her expression schooled into indifference. If Kee did the job well, then a contract would be offered to her. Cornelius trusted her well enough to let her decide and though she usually presented herself as a friendly person, there was a darker part of herself that emerged whenever Kora dealt with mafia business. Twelve years meant she had plenty of experience as a Cleaner. At least her credentials were good.

A cynical smile made its way on her face and she nodded. “ Got it. ” Kora said, glancing around the room. She wasn’t sure what happened here. She hadn’t been here while they were  interrogating and then murdered. She did, however, have a responsibility to see how well this woman did her job. “Sure. I need to go back to work after this and the last thing I want is blood and flesh on me. ” Kora shrugged. “ I’ve been told to stay with you until everything’s done. ”

         Assessing the situation didn’t take much longer after Kee mentioned the business about aprons to her client. Whether or not she fully grasped the concept of being scrutinized in this moment was not a concern --- work came before anything else and this was not the first time that Caoimhe had an audience. With a last glance at the sack of meat on the ground she moved for the door, slowly bringing her two bags inside and beginning the process: unpacking her tools ( power saw, hack saw, plastic bags, plastic liner, tape, aprons, goggles, gloves, hair net, mouth mask ... ) and setting up. Perhaps the longest process of all was setting the liner across the floor but Kee was used to the time it took by now. As she handed an apron to her guest she asked, “Are ye pressed fer time?” And that was the only important question.

When she looked more like a surgeon than a Cleaner she began to line the floor. It was only when she came to the mess in the middle that she paused ( no use in lining something that was already a mess ) and taped the plastic down to protect whatever was unmarred from incoming splatter. After taking the steps to plug everything in, to prepare all of her bags ... she began. With one last glance at her employer ( and one more cigarette lit ), the power saw went on.

[skeletonkee-blog]

[skeletonkee-blog]

when i was a little girl, my mother kissed me on the forehead and told me i was cursed. i was born with medusa’s eyes, she said. my skin was barbed. my kiss would not wake sleeping princes. i would love too hard; i would have blood on my hands. over burnt cookies and sour yogurt she taught me not to hate this thing that lives inside my skin. (if i wanted to fear it, that was my business.) how many mothers can tell their daughters they’re killers the same way they say i love you?

let them remember i was a monster that was loved | m.c. (via ibuzoo)

[skeletonkee-blog]

❤ (hehehe)

❤ for a ship aesthetic of our muses

“So you deal with dead bodies and secrets now?”“I always deal wit’ secrets.”

listened to the first half of TheFatRat - The Calling (feat. Laura Brehm) (x)

[skeletonkee-blog]

kora-valentine:

Even though she had absolutely no interest in running the family business, her grandfather knew that she was too loyal to ever turn down any requests he asked of her. Admittedly, she did have a talent at it, but it wasn’t what she wanted to do. She did like running the Crow. Maybe she should considering opening up her own high end bar somewhere. Her nose wrinkled at the scent of blood as she stared down at the mess of a corpse. She didn’t know what or who it was and she didn’t particularly care. All she knew was that it needed to be cleaned up. Which brought her to her current meeting with the woman beside her. 

“ This is where it fell. ” Kora answered, looking at her. “ They were instructed not to move the body. Grandfather wanted you to be here before anything was done. ” Kora didn’t know this woman. Their old cleaner had passed away and she’d been tasked with looking for a new cleaner. It took a few connections and asking, but she’d finally found the woman named Kee. “ How long have you been in business? ” She asked. 

         Kee only responded with a small nod of her head. For the longest of moments she was still, gaze shifting from the woman to the body ... from the body to the rest of the room. Blood was messy. The rest of the bits were easy enough to make into smaller pieces and dispose of but blood had an interesting way of getting everywhere. The smallest of sprays could linger in the littlest of corners, scrutinized by observing eyes and those who wanted to find the mistakes. Kee ensured that none of that would be around but first ... first she had to scrutinize herself.

When she finally moved it was in a slow circle. Her head kept shifting from the mass at the center of the room outward, all the while a little trail of smoke puffed behind her and dissipated into the air. At the question she remained silent, concentrating on her task before giving an answer from around her vice, “Twelve years.” She had a knack for it. There were some people who were fortunate enough to find their calling early in life and Kee was absolutely one of them. The Cleaner made a half circle around the body, across from her company, and stopped. “Bakin’ powder an’ club soda will take care o’ t’blood smears t’at somehow got aroun’ t’room. I ‘ave ah power saw in me bag outside an’ some aprons. I suggest t’at ya put one on ‘f yer intention ‘s ta stay fer t’process. Shite likes ta jump.”

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briarsandbrambles:

“You could have pleaded self defence or at worse, a crime of passion. But what’s past is past.” No use in trying to change it. 

The last time he’d require her services was when an agent from the Court’s unnamed underground society decided that he would get away with double-crossing the Darkwoods and selling information he’d learned about them. He’d been hired to deliver a message ( apparently he was the best ) but for all his cunning, or the lack of, he let slip that he was going to take it to a different court. It wasn’t difficult to track him as the parcel he’d been carrying was a beacon instead of the real thing. It was a test he failed and paid for with his life. A mess left for Kee to clean up after they were done with him. 

“If you’re ever threatened on my behalf, don’t hesitate to let me know—” There was not much else beyond her work she knew of the Darkwoods but there was still a chance she could be collateral damage, although he hope not. “—but I’m sure you can take care of yourself just as well.” On her employment, he gave her a gun loaded with iron bullets. A security measure for a human cleaner in the Court.

Rhys wasn’t trying to sound dark and mysterious but he had a feeling that that was what the fictional Christian Grey was all about. “I can’t say I’ve read that book but it sounds quite interesting,” he sputtered a laugh with that last word. “Unfortunately, there are no sexual escapades to be had but I wouldn’t reject the offer. It’s just a place I go to get away from all this. Not some humid Summer vacation but a mountainous retreat.” It was at that he began to ache for the temporary freedom on the white mountain. But it was quashed as soon as it began, replaced with incredulity. “Blonde?” He tried to imagine her blonde. It was…challenging. “Do you have pictures?” He poked. 

         It would have been an unnecessary trial for her parents, something that would have had the authorities looking into her family, bringing attention where it didn’t need to be. The likelihood of Kee ever entering into this line of work would have been slim but the Cleaner chose not to comment on that. Instead she found her grin slipping to something more wry. His offer of protection was somewhat warming. Kee always had that with the IRA, it was just a given with her line of work. To have the olive branch extended outward from someone she had contacts with was a kind gesture. Or so she supposed.

“I t’ink I migh’ run in ta trouble some day. Not everyone ‘s goin’ ta be welcome ta t’idea o’ ah human runnin’ around an’ stickin’ ‘er nose in ta everyone else’s business.” She paused, a soft chuckle breaking from her chest, “Are ya lookin’ out fer me, Rhys?” It was a gentle jab back at him, something light to keep the air cooler --- conversation kept her lids from feeling too lazy and his company was good ( which was a relatively large compliment coming from Kee ).

She was skeptical of all company when she first met them. More correctly, she was impassive and disinterested in people when first meeting them. Few faces were around for more than one interaction Rhys had quickly become someone familiar, someone who called when sunlight would threaten the sky’s horizon in just a few hours with details and a place she needed to be. If there was ever anything Kee could claim to actually love in this world, it was her work. Those phone calls often brought a small smirk to her lips, one that filled her with the excitement of a prospective job. Sitting beside him now was a surprise ( to allow the small banter and the cheeky grinning for more than just pleasantries ) was exceptionally unique to her person. Kee did not forge close relationships.

“Now I will be aware ‘f ya ever invite me ta t’cabin ... t’ose intentions.” Caoimhe’s laughter was uncanny of her person --- light, actually expressive. “Pictures o’ me ‘air when I was ah lass? Me mum might. ‘m sure t’at she does, actually.”

[skeletonkee-blog]

         From between her lips the Black Cherry Djarum cigarette plumed smoke, the soft scent of clove cherries followed the paper down as it burned. Kee stared down at the mess, what had formerly been a living thing not strewn about the room in colorful splashed which centered around one hefty mass. She could best describe it as meat, tangled and broken. This was how she surmised these messes: hands pressed into the pockets of her dress pants, cigarette burning smoke around her face, hair pulled into a loose tail, suit jacket’s sleeves rolled carefully up to her elbows and tie tucked into her belt to keep it from flopping into whatever she had to clean up. Despite the more masculine style of dress ( learned from her mentor and definitely more professional than a dress and heels ), Kee’s heavy eye liner and blood red lipstick defined her sharp features. She looked quite like a Wolf in these moments, studying prey.

“Did t’body get moved, or ‘s t’is where ‘t fell?” That was all she asked, peering from the corner of her eye at her company and waiting patiently for the answer.

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briarsandbrambles: 

Rhys would have flinched at her touch had he not maintained a calm demeanour. The curious scars on his neck bore no secret. Any halfwit exposed to the Court would have known what had caused the faint but jagged imprint of scar tissue. To drain a human with the intention of changing them did not come with dainty pin pricks on the neck similar to the set he’d given Kee. They were almost always accompanied by incisor teeth marks. Along with pain and near death hallucinations. It’s no wonder Rhys all but winced at the touch. Since his turning, he hadn’t particularly liked anyone being so close to his jugular. But the touch of warm fingers couple with a soft lilt wasn’t quite so unpleasant. The vampire angled his head to look at her, allowing his hair to fall loosely over his shoulder. “It’s a pity you did.” His words equally quiet.

He momentarily buffered the playful mockery fighting in his throat—allowing but a mere chuckle to escape. “With your skills with a pencil, no one will see you coming, Caoimhe.” And he highly doubted anyone wouldn’t take seriously a woman almost always misted in iron with body bagging in her line of work. Humans were known for being very imaginative for being cruel to magical beings in the dark ages.

There was a pregnant silence between them, as if withholding the desire to share more. “So you deal with dead bodies and secrets now?” His tone, more inquisitive than accusatory. Rhys was a creature who held but one secret close. That, he would not divulge. “Let me warn you first that you shouldn’t—under any circumstances—repeat this,” a pause then he began with a grin “I disappear a few times a year. Most people assume I go to the human realm but really I have a cabin in Winter. It’s nothing special but it’s mine.” Not the Darkwoods’ but his.

         Caoimhe knew better than to ask people about their scars. She bore a few of her own, though they were inconsequential in comparison: nothing life-changing. One on her thumb from the slip of a gouger in her high school’s art class. One from taking a tumble the first time she had ever worked with her mentor --- a branch scratching too deep on her thigh and leaving a mark there. They didn’t much matter to Kee either way ... scars existed, and that was the end of that. Though now her head canted slightly, eyes glancing over the mark and dashing away just as quickly when she retracted her hand. “I t’ink I would ‘ave been tossed in ta jail ‘f I did.”

Though she offered a short chuckle at his words. She was but a human, helpless to creatures more powerful than herself, even with her little tricks to keep her potential predators away. In the long run it didn’t matter, life ended when it ended and there was nothing to be done about that. Except that she wanted to live longer ... so that she could do more work. Her quest for immortality was a quiet one, asked in channels were people seldom cared to trace back to her reason why. “Luckily me interest ‘s solely wit’ dispersing t’dead. Not harmin’ t’livin’. Unless ‘m bein’ t’reatened.”

Her coy smile remained. “I always deal wit’ secrets.” Her own pause was heavy with amusement. Kee nodded in agreement and chuckled softly. “Ah secret cabin. ‘s ‘t some kind o’ warped t’in like t’at Christian Grey’s room ‘n t’at horrid book? Full o’ sexual endeavors an’ interests?” Even if it was, what did it matter to her? Kee profoundly understood a need for privacy. She’d not press on it much beyond the tease. “’m naturally ah blonde. Been dyin’ me ‘air since I was ah lass. ‘t was t’reason I stabbed t’lad.” It was the reason she dyed her hair to begin with. She was tired of people assuming she was stupid just because of her hair color. Such things bothered her as a girl.

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briarsandbrambles: 

“What did you stab him with?” Although the answer might have been rather obvious, Rhys knew that modern humans didn’t walk about with knives in their pockets. Especially not at an educational institution. Even if that was not the case, he was curious to know how Caoimhe had done it. He was not so depraved as to have an affinity for mutilation but he suppose Kee’s story wouldn’t disappoint—he’d always felt she was crafty.

“There’s plenty of people to poke around here if you’re into that sort of thing,” he teased. Caoimhe was not so easily teased that Rhys couldn’t resist trying whenever he got the chance. Of course, she’d bore of it one day and the vampire would most likely have moved on to something else but until then… “Did you let him live at least?”

         “Ah dull number two pencil.” At that statement Kee did smirk, something wide and akin to a Cheshire ( though perhaps less menacing for the lack of necessary teeth ). She had been discharged from public schooling there after that, lucky to have been let off with a mark on her record only ... the first of many. Her citation of self defense on the matter, coupled with the kid’s history of attempting to bully her already, made for a more solid story. Kee’s father had been proud of her, and she excelled more with the private schooling than she had in the other system. Leaning forward, Kee gently pressed the tips of her index and middle finger to where his pulse point was ( if it was beating, that was a different story. She wasn’t sure about their logistics ). Her touch was gentle, her voice quiet, “Righ’ t’ere. Missed t’major vein by millimeters.”

“I doubt t’at I could overpower many people ‘ere fer t’at sort o’ t’ing. So ‘s ah good t’ing t’at ‘m t’person called after t’mess ‘s made.” Her chuckle was soft --- murder wasn’t something she had an interest in, despite participating a few times later in her life ( work-oriented, of course ). The preference was for the cleaning, the staging ... there was a sick sort of art in it. A moment of silence passed before she narrowed her eyes, mischief glinting in them. “So tell me somethin’ t’at ya usually keep ta’ yerself, Rhys. I promise ta return ‘n kind.”

[skeletonkee-blog]

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briarsandbrambles: 

When he had been much younger, Rhys reveled in his newfound immortality. Almost a hundred years had passed since he fell away from the human realm and joined the Darkwoods before he went back to his homeland. He wasn’t normally sentimental when it came to his human existence but something had drawn him to his family. Are they still alive? Do they have children? had been some of the questions which raced through his thoughts. Some answers he didn’t get, others he got by visiting the family graveyard. He’d seen his brother’s name etched into a cold stone. His sisters’ weren’t there. Buried with their husbands certainly. That had been when a profound feeling ofemptiness hit him. A week later, he’d started his year of ripping.

Blinking away the haunting images flashing behind his eyes, Rhys turned his thoughts instead to Kee’s question. “These days I do occasionally miss being human but the promise of immortality has always held a sway over me.” He was, in his previous life, the son of royalty but when Aelwen came, she had promised a fuller life than he would have as a human ruler. Perhaps immortality had become more than he’d bargained for. “Do you have a family to go back to? If you ever decided to leave us.”

         “No.” She did, technically. Her mother and father were still alive and well, last Kee heard of it, still working with the IRA for liberties and ideas that were falling out of fashion. Caoimhe had never been particularly close to her parents, even when she was a girl. It wasn’t for any particular reason, rather some chromosomal anomaly with her emotions and the inability to attach herself to other people. She supposed she might love them, if she really bothered to understand or comprehend that sort of love. They were there, and she appreciated the roof over her head, warm bed, and food they provided while she had needed them.

But everyone back home likely thought she was dead. She had no pets, no children, no lover to miss or mourn her. Kee didn’t much mind that idea. Though her own memories shifted like sand behind her lazy lids, and as if she were changing the topic she murmured, “When I was ah girl in college I stabbed ah lad in t’neck fer pullin’ me ‘air. I suppose t’at I migh’ miss t’at.” And she chuckled softly, despite the graphic nature, the serious offense of such things. Kee shifted slightly, turned her hues from his hands to the sharpness of his profile. “’s not such ah bad t’ing.”

[skeletonkee-blog]

meretrixa: 

She might have wanted to end things there, but Arke was a curious person at heart. “And what changed between the past and present, hm?” She grinned, and crooned her name. “Kee – lovely. I won’t pretend I’m different than most people, even if my pride is demanding I do. Never had a knack for Irish, I fear.”

         “It’s a bit difficult to keep working for an employer when they’re only established in the human realm. Besides, this place is mythical, at best, on our side. I don’t think a man as selfish as my boss would have been very understanding if I told him I wanted to split my time between the two places.” Kee snorted at the idea of coming forth to Donovan and attempting to explain this place. Sure, she had ample opportunity to pass through the Heart Tree and return to the human world ... but she didn’t want to. “Kee is fine. And your name?”

[skeletonkee-blog]

briarsandbrambles:

When she moved away, it was like a tangible mist had suddenly become intangible again and he realised he’d never been so close to the cleaner, for lack of a better word. He followed behind her, walking leisurely. The only sound in the courtyard was the sound of their heels against the stone before the comfortable silence was broken by Kee’s Irish lilt.

“Much too old for my liking at this point,” he said with humour but at closer inspection, one might suppose there was a note of boredom woven into his syllables—boredom and a tinge of frustration. But to answer her question, he admitted “Five hundred, give or take. It’s not so long compared to some others but it’s more years than I ever thought to live.” Settled down on the bench, he held out his hand in front of them. There used to be callouses on the pad of his thumb and the inner side of his index finger. He got them from the manipulation and control of a foil when fencing as a human. Rubbing the ghost scars against each other, Rhys said “Would you miss being human if you were changed?”

         Closeness was not something she typically afforded others. There was a sense of strange comfort to their proximity, however now that it was gone she almost felt ... cold. Kee sucked in a large breath of air as if frustrated at the thought, but instead focused on his words. Eyes shifted downward and to the vampire’s hand. “T’at’s ah long time ta be alive.” Though she certainly wasn’t judging. Years ago vampires were just myths, and yet she admired their closeness to death. Or however close she would get to admiration.

“I don’ t’ink so. Ta be honest, I can say t’at ‘ve never really felt alive. But I suppose t’at ‘as more ta do wit’ ah general disinterest in t’most basic o’ human affairs.” Evident in her fascination with work. It wouldn’t be easy to get Kee to admit that she sought some form of immortality. Her work was her life, and since coming to the fae realm she had come to realize just how short a human’s life was. It was selfish. “I can’ say t’at I ‘ave much ta miss. Do ya miss ‘t?”

[skeletonkee-blog]

It’s her soul that I fear and not her demons, for her soul is darker than any demon I’ve ever met.

VàZaki Nada   (via wordsnquotes)