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[cancries-blog]

A slow twirl of her finger around the glass in front of her and she kept her eyes down; it didn’t mean she wasn’t paying attention -- of course she was paying attention, the Canary always paid attention -- but it did make her look unassuming. A hand brushes her hair back away from her shoulder, revealing delicate features and full lips, cast in the most natural make-up she could muster for the evening to still get a sort of effect she wanted.

She exchanges a smile with someone across the room -- not the target, not by a long shot, but hunters don’t show that they’re following someone -- no, she does this a few times over before turning and bumping into someone, her drink sloshing back and onto her own dress rather than them, “I am so, so sorry, I’m such a clutz, I didn’t mean...” a glance up then, before down at their feet, “Let me pay to have your shoes cleaned?”

Though her gaze did lift to meet theirs once or twice, it was unsure if it was intentional because she seemed to always avert them, either to her feet or elsewhere.

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Calliope, as she tended to do, was watching everyone else; she looked everything like prey but held herself with a slight tilt to her position. Sometimes blending into a crowd worked out best when you were trying to fly under the radar; on the other hand, sometimes it led to women under tables feeling up your legs and forcing your attention to draw from the man ( was he after her? another predator?) who had been chasing her and to Fancy proper.

“I imagine not, no.” came her cool reply, soft and unassuming and every bit the girl next door she looked, but after a brief run of her hand across Fancy’s hair, she stepped out from the cover of the table and stumbled forward, into the man who nigh-barreled into her, knocking her to the ground. Before that, however, her hand scraped across his hand, a paper-cut at best across his flesh causing whatever toxin had been in her ring to seep into his system and send him for a trip.

As people gathered to help her up, Calliope blushed, ducked her head, and tried to hide herself from attention, bursting out apologies in a soft soprano that would make most people want to shroud her in armour and protect her, but eventually managing to get back to her table -- and the man, now thrown for a loop and being buffeted away from her, was now no longer a threat -- before murmuring without her eyes moving down to Fancy again, “You should be safe now?”

A peek behind the curtain, perhaps, but just a flash. Fancy still couldn’t see the beast that lurk beneath her breast, but knew now that the girl was at least willing to put herself out there for someone else... another guise, another mask, and yet another in to someone’s good graces, she hoped beneath the whole of it.

Fancy was born to perform, singing and dancing her way across the club scene in Miami. Often changing her up routines, she had just finished a dancing number with a Miami beach twist, belting the final notes of the song as her hands came up to cue just in time to drop, causing the whole club to become dark. Her outfit for the night was a glittery sequined hot pink bikini top and daisy dukes, sticking with the theme.

She was ready to leave, throwing on a black hoody to combat the freezing AC indoors. It was almost as if on cue, Fancy noticed the greasy male who often came to her shows. Just another man who was selling fake dreams to wannabe stars. Turning the other way, Fancy hurried through the crowd of people as she heard him shout her name, causing her to panic and duck under the first table she saw.

Fancy huddled underneath and swallowed her breath, inching her way backward until she hit something warm. Her hands came up, rubbing the object to realize it was a pair of legs. She swallowed hard and looked up to the stranger she encountered now in this odd predicament. “I swear to you this is not how I introduce myself to people usually…” It was hard not to stutter with the blush on her cheeks heating her face up.

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IZZY♥

It was as natural to her as breathing, for the Queen to run her fingers through Calliope’s medium-length, pale blonde hair. Izzy had always fancied the way it felt slipping through the cracks of her fingers, so silky soft and smooth. Even better than the thousand count-thread sheets her Queen slept on. It didn’t even matter when certain parts or strands were tainted with the blood of her canary’s latest victims. Izzy still enjoyed touching it, braiding it, and absorbing it’s blanket softness. It was soothing and given that Izzy missed out on these same, casual-girl sleepovers growing up, she appreciated when Calliope entertained her with a reserved tenderness that she managed solely for her benefit and no one else. It made the relationship between them that much more special. And if anything, enhanced Izzy’s undying love and appreciation for the elder woman currently finding comfort and solace above her torso. As morbidly gruesome as the canary’s words were prior to the occupying relaxation, Izzy couldn’t refrain from smiling. Only she could make something so vicious sounding, sound absolutely delightful. It was a gift, really…  “Actually….” Izzy sat up. She saw an opportunity with Calliope to quell the inner workings of torment and worry in her own mind. “I need you to do me a favor. It can wait until tomorrow but it’s deeply important and I’d like it to stay between us. Killian has so much going on that he doesn’t need to be bothered with this simple but, trivial matter. You know, I’d do it myself but he has me prepping the girls for their big show. The House caught on fire last night. An accident in one of the red rooms. We’re not really sure what happened.” That was a lie, – Isabelle knew exactly what took place because she was there and she was responsible but no one knew that besides Felix and Izzy didn’t want to compromise Calliope’s loyalties this early on. While, Izzy suspected Calliope favored her over Killian, she wasn’t sure it was the right time to bring her in on Isabelle’s forthcoming plans to overthrow the King. She needed more time before she ignited that divide amongst their people. And they still had their war with the serpents and the cartel to worry about.  Combing through her friend’s hair again, Izzy allowed room for pause, careful with how she worded the request to limit questions that she couldn’t yet answer. “There’s a girl. I need you to find her for me. Track her down, do whatever it takes. But I need her alive and unharmed. And once you find her, call me. I’ll meet you wherever you are.” The girl in question was the same one Killian chained to a bed and Isabelle let free. She couldn’t maim her the way that Killian wanted her to. And therefore, she let her go. But, Izzy needed to make sure she disappeared safely so that Killian would never find her and figure out that Isabelle disobeyed him. Because the consequences of such, would be deadly. 

There was a sense of peace in Caliope when she was being groomed by Isabelle. It was peaceful to have someone take care of you, and though Calli very rarely let anyone take care of her in such a way, Izzy got special treatment and got away with a lot more in the presence of her canary than most would have.

In Izzy’s tone there was a peaceful place, the same sort of noise Calliope heard when she was doing what she did best: eviscerating people. Her eyes would lull closed for a moment and all that mattered was the moment she was in; no pretense, no games, just her and her reality. Too often would she find that peace cracked by the world around them, the noise and slaughter of pepole without vision trying to do as she did.

“A single girl seems hardly a challenge.” Calliope murred from her position of being stroked like a cat -- or a bird, in some cases -- and nary did a question of why or even the thought of asking if Killian knew rise from her mind to her lips. Instead, she opened one pale eye to peer up towards her Queen with a lazy, almost satisfied look, “Is there anything I need to know in particular about her person? I would so hate to bring back the wrong girl.”

In Calliope there was the potential for true love and feelings, but all that had ever burbled up from her stomach was bile and a want to destroy. She tempered it for so long with games and masks that it had become second nature to act as if she were normal; she knew very well that she was nothing of the sort, but there were a handful of people with whom she elt comfortable.

If the Queen needed a girl found, regardless of what she needed done with her, the Canary would provide in the way that only she could. But now both eyes opened and she rolled to give Izzy her full attention, offering a small smile, “Whatever you wish, it will be done, no?”

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IZZY·:

When it came to the Reapers as a whole, – Calliope was Isabelle’s beloved favorite. Though perhaps, she was simply bias because of the way that Calli doted on her. In a world, where she felt alone (despite being surrounded by a group of people who envisioned her as their Queen), it was nice to have a friend. Which is what, Isabelle believed Calliope to be. Even though, she had her scruples with the blonde’s proclivities towards fatal brutality. Calli wasn’t against getting her hands dirty. Sometimes, Izzy felt as though she loved it. That the rush somehow completed her. Whether or not that was true, Izzy didn’t love her any less. Her company was much desired after a miserably long day. Tonight was no different when the trusted canary crawled into the Queen’s half empty bed.

Isabelle couldn’t sleep, too wrapped up in secrets so hard to keep. But, she did it for the sake of her survival and her safety. As well as that of her clandestine beau’s and their unborn child to be’s. Not that, anyone besides Isabelle and the father were aware of that minor, important detail. “Bad night?” Izzy presumed with a borderline, amused smile. If the blood on Calliope’s cheek were any indication, then the answer to that question was a resounding– yes. “Who was it this time?” Isabelle questioned her tiredly, as she rolled over onto one side. If Calli had asked her where her other half was, Izzy would confess that she didn’t know. The King and Queen, never slept together. Killian had always refused any opportunity to do so because of his nightmares. And naturally, if Felix were around, Izzy would have been sleeping soundly by his side. But, he was off playing serpent with their rival gang by the King’s orders himself. “By the way,” Isabelle looked to their beloved canary, taking in the sight of her appearance before reaching out to wipe the smudge of blood from her cheek with her manicured thumb, “There. No more blemishes.”

Their relationship was anything but conventional, but it worked for them, and in all of her maniacal glory, Calliope was accepted by Izzy and that made the Queen well above most other people. She had seen the demon that lay beneath her pale eyes and had still taken her in. They were beyond blood and it’s likely that even if other loyalties were to falter (to the city, to the reapers proper) her loyalty to Isabelle would remain.

With her cheek now cleaned, she moved to rest the cleaned flesh against the other woman’s torso. It felt comforting to be so close to warmth and creation after destroying something so righteously as she had. A soft sigh escaped her for a moment, careful not to mar her friend with her bloodied hand (though most of it had dried,) “I don’t recall his name. He had an attitude, and expectations... I had drugs, and a knife, and an hour to kill.”

The play on words was not lost on her but no mirth crossed her lips, instead letting her gaze move up to Isabelle and showing the first signs of recognition (and not the flightiness that usually hazed her eyes after she had both murdered someone and been high as a fucking kite,) as a smile crossed her lips, “You look worried and you seem tense... do I need to get my other hand bloody?”

Would she kill for Isabelle? The girl would kill for the fun of it most days, but she would obliterate worlds for her Queen.

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closed starter for @reapersgoddess

Every time Calliope came down off of a particularly bad bender, she found her way into Izzy’s room. She always waited until the brunette was alone and always made sure that she was calm enough to not upset the Queen more than was necessary. There was a kinship there that was beyond what could be seen, like two caged birds who were soaring over their peers but unable to actually fly free; somehow happy within their captivity until certain moments of pure clarity in which everything crashed in around them.

She loved the violence, the bloodshed, and the constant dance of people in death’s guise that paraded the halls of any place the Reapers called home -- it’s why she chose that as a home rather than elsewhere in the city, after all -- but in the end it can take its toll even on the most twisted psyche, and she crawled her way to the side of Izzy’s bed to rest her head -- forehead sheen with sweat from her latest high and a smear of blood across one cheek and beneath each fingernail from gods know what -- and let out a slow, soft sigh, “Everything’s so fragile these days... egos, loyalty, people’s bodies... what the fuck is going on...?”

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CALLIOPE MOORE ( CLAIRE HOLT / 28 / BISEXUAL / REAPER'S CANARY ) – is from LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA and is affiliated with the REAPERS  – SHE has been trying to stay alive to keep HER loved ones safe, but her OBSESSION often gets in the way of her AMBITION.

PERSONAL

Hi, I go by L, or you can call me Calliope if you’d rather that. I’m in my thirties and while I’m okay with smut (obviously) I want it to be organic and constructive to the story driven plot rather than done for the sake of it. I’d like to avoid plots involving rape and children being abused (or animals, for that matter) but otherwise I’m pretty open to most things. I hope to have some fun here. (:

HISTORY / BACKSTORY

Quiet and unassuming doesn’t mean meek. Growing up in Los Angeles, people tended to try and prey upon Calliope -- blonde hair, kind face, the picture perfect American Girl -- and soon found out how stupid that was. She makes perfect bait and is fairly adept at keeping her own name out of the violence she exacts and causes, and this has been going on for a long time (long before she came to Miami.) She uses this to her advantage constantly and takes great care in keeping up that facade.

Her loyalty to the King and Queen is nigh-on obsession. They personify what she hopes to one day achieve (and yet is held back by her unwavering loyalty to them, ironically enough) and hopes to become. Vicious and violent -- even being open about it, unafraid to show their true faces -- and apologetic, much like she is... they’ve become a sort of surrogate family and her attachment to them is fanatical.

There are more skeletons in her closet than even she understands. As careful as she is and aware of her own dissociative and violent behaviours there are things in her past that even she doesn’t understand. Her past was buried (possibly literally) before she moved to Miami to start her new life and it’s unclear just how much of Calliope Moore is fabricated or true; the only thing anyone can see for certain is her attachment to the Reapers.

She grew up rich and with rich tastes. Which, in simple terms, means she’s a party girl that has proclivities towards more sinister things. She enjoys being violent, she enjoys sex, and she has a taste for drugs as long as they pack a punch. She handles all three of those things fairly well but if you combine them all she has a tendency to go off the rails and take each of them to the extreme. The only people who know this for a fact are the King and Queen.

Dramatics are her bread and butter. She doesn’t just get keyed up, she gets keyed up to the nth degree and refuses to back down. Her benders are often emotionally driven and, though she’s careful to keep it within the circle, can sometimes lead to bodies piling up in order to keep her secrets. She presents publicly as the sweetest girl but anyone with any real knowledge of her will see right through it and this upsets her. She has a tendency to go off the deep end.

Love or obsession. Her attachments tend to present very heavy each time she finds someone that she DOES feel that sort of attraction to. With the King and Queen it’s nigh-on fanatical worship, as mentioned above, but a few times she’s been pretty sure she’s in love with someone. These still tend to present as nigh-obsessive attachments to someone and she thinks she might have found someone who finally returns that sort of ‘love’ to her and has formed a somewhat toxic relationship therein. Everyone else tends to be treated as a means to an end.

CONNECTIONS / WANTED CONNECTIONS

Isabelle Samson : Her Queen and the person she trusts most in the world. As much as she is attached to both she and Killian, Isabelle gets the slightest, barest hint more attachment and attention because of the underlying nature of her being. Perhaps it’s uteruses before duderuses or something more deeply laid... or perhaps she’s just waiting for the right moment? Either way, Izzy reigns supreme, even though she is eight years Calli’s junior, she still treats her as if she were something of an older sister.

Killian Steele : Her King, and one of the only men she actually shows any fealty towards whatsoever. In her mind most men are to be played with and led upon a path of her own making, but with Killian she takes a knee and she obeys... as much as Calli obeys anyone, anyway. She’s loyal to he and Izzy paramount to everyone else, and though she doesn’t often speak of it aloud, she wonders sometimes if they are preparing to end her at some point.

Toxic: The toxic relationship mentioned in the last headcanon above refers to someone who doesn’t exist as a character yet. I’ll likely put in a wanted connection for it but if someone wanted to take a crack at it before then they need only message me to discuss the details. I have some FCs in mind and a general overall feel but the rest we can work out together.

Dealer: Calliope likely has a go-to dealer that she trusts to get her the drugs she wants at the price she wants to do the THINGS she wants. She’s very much in need of control of the relationship as much as her dealer would be so this would be a give and take rather than her being totally strung along by the drugs.

Exes, people who know her secret (and are willing to deal with the consequences,) people from her past... these are all wanted connections I’d like to see, as well as maybe some relationships she’s formed outside of the Reapers just for the sake of the public that might have become something far more real than she anticipated. We can discuss any of this at any point.

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CLAIRE HOLT FT. ANGEL OF SMALL DEATH AND THE CODEINE SCENE BY HOZIER ; MADE BY NOX

“ with her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean, she’s the angel of small death and the codeine scene. with her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean, she’s the angel of small death and the codeine scene. ”

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#my spirit animal