𝔖HE [WHO]… 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒

@bloodshed   ( … )    [      kalina   didn’t   move   at   first.   her   gaze   was   fixated   on   the   theatre   stage   below,   with   ballet   dancers   performing   their   pristine   choreography.   her   form   was   very   still,   and   it   was   as   if   she   could   feel   every   hum   within   the   room.   her   heart   was   a   drum   within   her   chest,   a   canter   that   only   increased   to   a   gallop.   but   she   did   not   show   emotion   on   her   features — years   of   conditioning   still   lived   in   her   bones,   whispering   that   emotion   was   a   flaw,   a   weakness,   a   punishable   offence.   with   each   pointed   toe   onstage,   memory   dragged   her   backward.   the   red   room.   the   mats   slick   with   sweat.   the   drills   that   blurred   into   one   another   until   pain   and   discipline   were   indistinguishable. the   way   they   were   taught   to   move   like   phantoms,   to   erase   sound,   to   erase   themselves.   a   misstep   meant   consequences,   not   correction.   a   mistake   meant   you   bled   for   it.   lucian’s   voice   cut   through   the   haze.   her   gaze   snapped   back   to   him,   to   the   hand   he   held   out.   her   jaw   loosened,   the   tension   in   her   throat   easing   by   a   fraction.   she   reminded   herself   she   was   not   there   anymore.   ]    nothing.   I’m   fine.   keep   moving. 

@killerwidows aww thanks

@-cigarettes_slut-   /   thank   you   so   much!    < 3   I   love   yours ! 

" If I let you do this—if I let you make me your 'purpose'—I won't just be your project. Kalina. If you stay to help me find freedom... I'm never going to let you go back to the world you think you're saving me for. " [ He lowered his head, his voice dropping to a rough, desperate threat against her lips, hiding the truth of his feelings behind the mask of a predator. ] " Is that the 'purpose' you really want ? "
            
            /  2/2

[ Lucian didn’t pull away. He stayed rooted in place, his body looming over hers, his breath a ragged heat against her skin. His hand remained cupped firmly around her cheek, a heavy, grounding pressure that felt more like a claim than a comfort. He heard her words—about choice, about freedom, about helping him—and his jaw tightened. To him, "freedom" was just a word used by people who didn't have the Veilborne living under their skin. ] " You want to help me build something real ? " [ His voice was a low, jagged rasp, vibrating against her skin. ] " Kalina, my childhood was ruined. My teenage years were ruined. And my adulthood... it's ruining right now, one blood-stained day at a time. All thanks to the people who made me. " [ He leaned in until their foreheads collided, a blunt, jarring finality that forced her to look into the "tomb" he’d described. His pulse thudded a frantic, rhythmic betrayal against her thumb, proving he was flesh and blood, even if he felt like a ghost story. ] " You say this isn't about debt, that it's about purpose. You say you're 'already ruined,' as if that makes you immune to the dark. " [ He let out a short, mirthless sound, his eyes dark and swirling with a raw intensity that he refused to name as anything but a warning ] " But you're just trying to find meaning in a graveyard. If your first 'choice' is to burn your light out trying to save a ghost like me... then you haven't escaped the Red Room at all. You've just traded one impossible mission for another. " [ He didn't let go of her cheek. His fingers tangled slightly in her hair at the nape of her neck, his gaze dropping to her lips for a fraction of a second before snapping back to her eyes with a dawning, dangerous possessiveness. ] 
            
            /  1/2

@bloodshed      ( … )     this   isn’t   about   debt.   I’m   here   because  I   choose   to   be.   because   you   deserve   the   chance   to   build   something   real   for   yourself.   and   if   helping   you   do   that   gives   me   a   purpose — one   that   isn’t   built   on   orders   or   violence — then   maybe   that’s   the   first   thing   in   my   life   that   actually   feels   like   mine.   and   you   can   finally   have   your   freedom. 
            
            / 2/2 

[eyes furrowed from the open slit in his mask, fingers absent-mindedly fiddling with the knife that he grasped — a skill bullseye was known for. HE ALWAYS HIT THE TARGET. ] no need. it's already been taken care of.  [dex would add in a raspy voice, taking a few steps closer, but not enough to get close to the woman  — no poindexter always kept at a safe distance, but he didn't need to be close .. he worked better in the shadows or at a far range. ] i'd say it's /you/ who should go home — 

@AIMTRUE   ( … )     [      the   russian   assassin   stared   at   him,   unimpressed,   her   eyebrow   slightly   raising.   with   the   lower   half   of   her   face   covered,   the   only   visible   features   that   could   really   be   seen   were   her   eyes.     ]     then   it’s   a   good   job   that   you   aren’t   me.    [     she   replied   bluntly   and   dryly — ironically,   she   / didn’t /   trust   him.   her   gloved   fingers   curled   around   the   hilt   of   one   of   her   many   blades,   a   quiet   exhale   leaving   her   as   her   gaze   flickered   back   to   her   target.     ]      unless   you   have   something   useful   to   say,   Иди   домой   (   go   home   ).   this   one   is   mine. 

@killerwidows 
            As Kalina slid off the stool with that infuriating, easy grace, the air in the bar seemed to snap. The light above them buzzed aggressively, matching the frantic pulse in Valerie’s throat. The blush was no longer just a stubborn glow—it was a full-blown system overheat.
            
            “What? I am not searching for your off-switch!” Valerie yelled, her voice cracking with a jagged, high-frequency distortion that made a nearby patron wince and turn away.
            
            She slammed her crumpled coffee cup onto the bar, the plastic crunching like a bone breaking. She stood up too fast, her chair skidding backward with a screech that set teeth on edge.
            
            “Don't flatter yourself with some 'surgical mapping' crap! I was just here doing my own kill, and I found your stubborn ass lurking in the shadows like a bad line of code!” She stepped toward Kalina, her silver eyes shimmering with a chaotic, unshielded electricity behind her glasses. “You think you’re so special because you’re quiet? You’re just a void, Kalina. A glitch that doesn't have the decency to make a sound.”
            
            She gestured wildly toward the door, her hands shaking—not with fear, but with pure, unadulterated irritation.
            
            “Go! Take your cash and your 'precision' and get out of my broadcast!” she rasped, her voice dropping into a desperate, low-fi hiss. “I don't need 'confirmation' of anything. I’ve already seen enough of your 'pieces falling' to know that your masterpiece is just a pile of rubble. You didn't 'make' me snap—you just bored me into a headache!”
            
            She turned back to the bar, gripping the edge of the wood so hard her knuckles turned white, her breathing heavy and ragged.
            
            “Finish the job. Leave. I don’t care,” she muttered, though her eyes remained fixed on Kalina’s reflection in the mirror, watching for even a flicker of a reaction. “But don’t you ever tell me to control my emotions. I am the frequency. You’re just the silence I haven’t filled yet.”
            
            /she is mad omg

@-cigarettes_slut-    ( … )    [      kalina   didn’t   flinch   at   valerie’s   flare   of   indignation.   she   absorbed   it — measured   it — like   she   measured   everything.   her   posture   didn’t   shift,   but   something   flickered   over   her   eyes.   satisfaction ?   she   didn’t   raise   her   chin   or   lean   in;   she   simply   / existed /   with   a   precision   that   made   proximity   unnecessary.   where   valerie’s   energy   crackled,   kalina’s   settled — quiet,   controlled,   the   kind   of   quiet   that   suggested   she’d   already   mapped   every   exit,   every   reflection   in   the   bar   window,   every   microexpression   valerie   had   tried   to   bury.   her   gaze   flicked   to   the   crumpled   iced‑coffee   cup,   then   back   to   valerie’s   face — specifically   the   stubborn   blush   that   refused   to   fade.     ]     you’re   right.   noise   isn’t   evidence.   but   instability   is.   and   you   need   to   control   your   emotions.    [     she   finally   leaned   in — not   to   dominate,   not   to   intimidate,   but   with   the   calm,   surgical   focus   of   someone   who   had   already   mapped   the   emotional   terrain   and   chosen   her   next   step   with   intent.   she’d   caused   valerie   to   snap,   and   without   much   try.     ]      you’re   not   looking   for   my   off‑switch.   you’re   looking   for   confirmation   that   I   have   one.    [     her   voice   dropped,   steady   as   a   pulse.    ]       I   don’t.   and   that   bothers   you.    [    she   finished   the   last   of   her   drink,   placing   the   empty   bottle   down   and   sliding   off   the   stool   easily.  her   fingers   tossed   a   couple   of   cash   notes   onto   the   counter.     ]     the   job   is   finished.   I   did   what   I   did   because   it   allowed   all   the   pieces   to   fall,   one   by   one.  
            
            /   love   that

@killerwidows 
            
            The accusation of being sloppy did more than the threat of a blade ever could. It insulted Valerie’s architecture. As Kalina turned to meet her gaze, the silver in Valerie's eyes didn't just shimmer—it flared, a sharp, electric spike of static popping a nearby lightbulb in a shower of tiny glass shards.
            
            But it was the comment about flirting that caused the real glitch.
            
            “I am not flirting!” Valerie snapped, the words coming out a fraction too fast, a fraction too loud.
            
            For the first time, the predatory smirk vanished, replaced by a sudden, hot flush of color that crept up her pale neck and dusted her cheeks. It was a physical error, a biological broadcast she couldn't suppress. She gripped her iced coffee a little too tight, the plastic cup crinkling under her fingers.
            
            “Noise isn’t evidence if the system doesn't know how to record it,” she rasped, trying to claw back her composure, though the blush remained a stubborn, glowing glitch on her face. “And I don’t leave ‘categories’ behind. I leave craters.”
            
            She leaned in again, though this time there was a jagged, defensive edge to her proximity. She was trying to regain the "Siren" dominance, but the blush made her look less like a digital demon and more like a girl who had finally been read.
            
            “You think you’re so precise, so untouchable? You’re just a different kind of ghost, Kalina. You’re the kind that’s afraid to be haunted back.” She tilted her head, her glasses slipping slightly. “And don't flatter yourself. I don't flirt with ‘weapons.’ I dismantle them. If I’m paying attention to you, it’s because I’m looking for the off-switch.”
            
            She took an aggressive, shaky sip of her drink, her gaze fixed stubbornly on the photo between them. “Now... are we going to talk about the job, or are you going to keep making up data points to distract yourself from the fact that I’m the only one here who isn't afraid of your ‘quiet’?”
            
            /she is definitely flirting

[ Lucian goes perfectly still at the sound of that 'please.' It’s a low-frequency strike that bypasses his defenses more effectively than any blade. He doesn’t look at her immediately; instead, his gaze remains fixed on the dark horizon, his chest rising and falling in a slow, controlled rhythm as he processes the idea of her blaming herself for his shadow-work. The silence stretches long enough to be uncomfortable before he finally exhales, a sound that isn't quite a sigh but carries the weight of a white flag. He turns his head just enough to meet her eyes, his expression still carved from stone, but the lethal edge in his eyes has been replaced by a grim, quiet recognition. ]  " Blame yourself ? " [ His voice is a low, dangerous rasp, stripped of its heat but none of its weight. ] " That’s a waste of energy, Kalina. You were never meant to carry any part of the fallout. That was the point. " [ He turns his head away slightly, his jaw set in a hard, jagged line. He doesn't reach for her, and he doesn't offer a smile. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and grips the cold steel of his lighter, his knuckles turning white as he forces the adrenaline back down. ] " But if you're telling me that my ' way of handling the clock ' is just another way for you to fail... " [ He pauses, his voice dropping to a flat, final tone. ] " Fine. I hear you. " [ He gives a single, sharp nod—not a gesture of affection, but the cold acknowledgement of a new protocol. ] " Next time, we stay in the radius together. Just make sure your 'suggestions' are worth the risk. I won't be there to pull you out twice. "

@bloodshed    ( … )     you   don’t   get   to   make   all   of   these   decisions   on   your   own,   lucian.   that’s   not   how   this   works.     [    kalina   did   not   move   when   he   stepped   closer,   but   she   tensed,   as   if   physically   restraining   herself   from   doing   something   that   she   may   regret   later.   her   gaze   stayed   locked   on   his,   unblinking,   searching.   and   the   longer   he   spoke,   the   more   the   truth   settled   over   her   like   a   slow,   dawning   ache.   this   wasn’t   arrogance.   it   wasn’t   ego.   it   wasn’t   even   the   stubbornness   she’d   accused   him   of.   she   wasn’t   one   hundred   percent   sure,   but   she   believed   this   was   about   him   protecting   her.   the   sharp   lines   of   her   expression   eased,   the   tension   in   her   jaw   loosening.   she   swallowed,   the   movement   small   but   visible,   and   a   thin,   shaky   breath   slipped   from   her   lungs.     ]      I   knew   exactly   what   I   was   doing   too.   you   wouldn’t   have   “pulled”   me   into   anything.   you   don’t   need   to   make   it   your   responsibility   to   keep   me   out   of   the   line   of   fire.    [     her   voice   whispered,   her   hand   lifting   ever   so   slightly,   as   if   she   was   about   to   reach   out   to   him,   then   paused,   hesitating.   the   motion   stalled   in   the   air   between   them,   trembling   with   everything   she   wanted   to   say   but   couldn’t   yet   bring   herself   to   voice.     ]     I’m   not   looking   for   a    damned   apology — I   just…   if   that  timer   had   gone   off   and   you   still   had   that   case   while   I   just   watched   from   the   sidelines…   I   would’ve   blamed   myself.   so   just…   just   fucking   / consider /   my   suggestions   next   time.   please. 

[ Lucian watches her shake her head and turn away, and for a second, the silence is worse than the ringing in his ears. He can’t see the relief flooding through her; he only sees the dismissal. When she finally steps back into his space to corner him, his expression remains a cold, unreadable mask, though his pulse is still drumming a frantic rhythm against his ribs. ] " Stupid ? " [ He repeats the word, the syllable falling like a stone. He lets out a short, harsh breath—a ghost of a bitter laugh—and finally looks her dead in the eye. He doesn't see her fear; he only sees her anger, and it tastes like ash in his mouth. ] " I didn't 'deny' your help, Kalina. I made sure you weren't standing on a target when the clock hit zero. " [ He steps closer, his boots crunching on the grit of the pavement, looming just enough to force her to maintain that piercing eye contact. ] " You want to talk about being partners? Fine. But don't stand there and tell me I should’ve pulled you into the blast radius just so we could 'follow protocol' together. " [ His thumb digs into the cold steel of the lighter in his pocket, his knuckles still white and trembling from the sheer physical toll of the descent. ] " You're right—I'm not your superior. So stop talking to me like I’m a recruit who doesn't know the stakes. I knew exactly what I was doing. I took the risk so you wouldn't have to. " [ He turns his head slightly, looking toward the dark horizon, his jaw set in a line of rigid, jagged iron. ] " If you’re looking for an apology for keeping you out of the fire, you're going to be waiting a long time. "

/⠀curious or tense <3 

@killerwidows / startled ?

@shieldsagent-   ( … )     [     at   her   words,   kalina   grimaced,   pushing   herself   off   the   counter   and   wiping   her   hands   on   the   front   of   her   vest.      ]     oh   my   god,   that   is   disgusting.   even   I   have   standards.   don’t   have   sex   where   you   cook   and   eat   food.     [     her   gaze   flickered   back   over   to   her   sister   when   she   stood   in   front   of   her,   eyes   soon   rolling   as   her   hand   lifted   to   swat   alyssa’s   hand   gently   away   from   her   face.      ]      I   am   not   / soft /.   I   am   just   trying   to   be   a   considerate   sister.   would   you   prefer   me   to   disappear   on   you   without   a   word ? 

who said we need the bed?  that spot on the counter is a personal favourite.   *   a small smirk graced her lips as she gestured to where kalina was leaning back on the kitchen counter.  she didn’t usually indulge in such a conversation but anything to get back at her.  alyssa eventually took a sip of her beer,  eyeing her sister before placing her drink down and walking over to her.  she gently grasped her chin and squint her eyes before eventually asking the all important question   *   are you getting soft on me?

@shieldsagent-   ( … )    …   bigger   bed,   better   sex ?      [     a   smirk   played   on   her   lips.   kalina   was   known   for   being   blunt   and   she   was   willing   to   see   it   through.   she   slipped   past   alyssa,   nudging   her   shoulder   playfully   on   the   way   in.   she   shrugged   her   shoulders   at   her   sister’s   comment   about   her   “ window   tendencies “.      ]      I   felt   I   was   getting   a   little   too   predictable.     [      her   eyes   followed   the   other   brunette   as   she   made   her   way   into   the   kitchen,   folding   her   arms   comfortably   over   her   chest.      ]      I’m   fine,   sestra.   I’ve   told   you   that   you   don’t   need   to   worry   about   me…   I   just   wanted   to   see   you.   check   in. 

"   This couldn’t wait,    "    he said. He didn’t torture people often, but when he did, there was always a reason and never one he could afford to ignore for long. Adan knew he was in the wrong for ignoring her calls. Not once, but repeatedly. When he was busy, he was busy, only a few close friends and family could reach him at any time. Still, the fact that she had come all the way out here just to talk meant it had to be serious... not something trivial.    "   Let’s hear it,   "     he added, crossing his arms lazily in front of his chest.    "    Who is this about?    "    He looked at her, both confused and intrigued. She had said it was personal, which meant she knew something about his private affairs... something he wasn’t particularly comfortable with. However, he didn't jump to conclusions.   

@acterror   ( … )    [    kalina   didn’t   answer   immediately.   silence   was   one   of   her   favourite   weapons,   and   she   wielded   it   now   with   the   same   precision   she   used   on   a   blade.   she   stepped   out   of   the   shadows,   the   dim   light   catching   the   matte   finish   of   the   holster   beneath   her   jacket.    ]    bit   late   for   you   to   be   working.      [    she   said   at   last,   her   voice   smooth   but   edged   with   something   pointed.   ]     I   would’ve   called,   but   I   preferred   ambushing   you   in   person   rather   than   giving   you   another   chance   to   ignore   one   of   my   calls.     [     the   corners   of   her   mouth   lifted.   a   flicker   of   amusement.     ]     relax.   I   won’t   take   much   of   your   time.   I   can   see   you’re   busy.     [    her   expression   settled   back   into   its   usual   unreadable   calm   as   her   gaze   drifted   to   the   body   swaying   gently   from   the   ceiling.   even   so,   a   spark   of   curiosity   lingered   in   the   depths   of   her   steely   blue   eyes,   betraying   more   interest   than   she’d   ever   admit   aloud.    ]     I   came   with   a   name.   one   I   thought   you’d   find…   compelling.   I   could   handle   it   myself,   of   course,   but   I   figured   this   one   might   carry   a   bit   more   personal   weight   for   you.   [    a   faint   shrug.     ]     call   it   a   gesture   of   consideration,   if   you   like.   interested ? 

Adan pulled on his gloves, setting the tools aside with deliberate care before rolling up his sleeves. Then he turned to face her, leaning lazily against the edge of the table, his arms braced on either side as his gaze settled on her.    "    Bit late for a visit,   "   he said casually, glancing at the watch on his wrist before his gaze drifted back to her.   "    I know it was a long drive, so it must be important   -   or do you just like to watch?    "    A faint smirk tugged at his lips, though it faded almost as quickly as it appeared.    "   Wouldn’t have taken you for the type,    "    he added lightly.     "     But to each their own.    "    He didn’t bother giving her anything more than that. He already knew that wasn’t why she was here, and if it was, she clearly had far too much time on her hands.     

@ocyeaniks   ( … )     that’s   not   true.   I   / have /   joy   for   many   things.      [      kalina   defended,   narrowing   her   eyes   at   him,   almost   accusing,   as   if   daring   him   to   challenge   her   again.   maybe   he   had   a   point,   irritatingly   enough.   most   of   the   things   that   genuinely   thrilled   her   tended   to   involve   a   blood‑slick   blade   or   a   dimly   lit   bar   where   trouble   came   easy.   she   let   out   a   slow   exhale,   fingers   dragging   through   her   hair   before   falling   limp   at   her   side.     ]    I   still   cannot   believe   you   hijacked   my   entire   schedule…    [     she   muttered,   though   the   fight   in   her   tone   was   already   softening.     ]     fine.   what   is   it   you   want   to   do ?