HYDRA.

“A WOMAN IN THE SHAPE OF A MONSTER, A MONSTER IN THE SHAPE OF A WOMAN — the skies are full of them.”

[diivinehope]

♢ ╳ —  hekatea‌.

A long time ago, Vex’s mother told her that people’s behaviors can mean a lot about what they feel towards themselves. Vex watched. Wide-eyed, curious and hardly phased through the yelling or curses. If anything she felt like a bizarre observer of events. Why was the other woman so angry at her? They didn’t know each other. Nor did she owe Vex anything. She had a firm belief that everything presented to her in life was some sort of chance to learn, experience or feel. The boiling rage that burned off the back of the other woman was no different.  ( It was wiser to let the screaming continue than give in to the venom burning her own insides though. )

It’s a full five seconds after the shouting stops before Vex draws in a long breath and starts, “Well… Thank you for saving my life. I’m… sorry it angered you…?” Was the other woman’s anger entirely misplaced though? Vex was carelessly caught up listening to ghost sounds. They weren’t real anymore and she needed to be awake now. The real world goes on regardless of spirits or events of the past. Even she couldn’t be so dull to not realize that.

“You are right though, there’s a ton of sounds out here. Nothing new.”

hope’s a simple person, she doesn’t ask for much and she usually takes only what she likes, and for most parts she tries to lead a simple life, as simple as it can get for a professional killer. but it’s the little things, little things that can throw her right off track in just one moment. truth be told she didn’t want to help the girl. she would’ve felt nothing if she had seen her head smashed or body run over by one of the many cars. so then why did she help her? what’s fucking happening to her? it’s this irritating question that makes her so angry, that makes her so infected by rage. shit, is she actually turning soft? have all the killings over the years turned her into a little crybaby? she’s so angry that she could almost kill the girl. always kill the darlings that you save. 

but she swallows her rage and rolls her eyes, hoping that her brand new bottle of vodka at home could make her forget that this ever even happened. she can forget, she should forget. she must forget. “well you’re fucking welcome. now, i don’t do that shit for free. i expect to see at least some sort of a reward, you blind idiot,” at least she’s always so painfully honest, “yeah, i’m always right. what’s new? ”  

[ursulacorberogifs]

[diivinehope]

♢ ╳ —  coldbloodedkriller‌.

Location: Labyrinth 

Status: Open to All

TW: Blood, Slight Body Horror, Gun Wound

Keep reading

it was safe to assume that hope held a certain dose of love toward the labyrinth, and while it certainly wasn’t the place for everyone, especially not for those with fragile hearts, in the hitman’s opinion it surely had some charming traits. dirt, darkness, dust and the feeling of being watched? what more could one man want? she feared not phantoms or ghosts, and she surely had a way of dealing with dangerous men. don’t forget, she was raised by one and it takes an evil to know another evil. 

so the very image of a man hurt and begging for help came as no surprise to her. life was a gamble, an elaborate dance with death and life that always had the same ending. she thought of just leaving him there. he certainly wouldn’t be the first one to wither away in these tunnels - and at this idea she merely chuckled to herself. but she knew him. or at least she knew his face. 

like a shadow on the wall, she moved silently toward him, but the grin on her face was one worth thousand of slaps. “what-what? you want me to help you? ” she clicked her tongue almost in disapproval, but her words were laced with mockery. but then, she huffed and placed her hands on her hips, as if lost in deep thoughts.  “what am i gonna get out of helping you? now i know you’re not in the best position to negotiate, but come on, if i leave you here, someone worse could get you. selling and stealing organs is the new trend at the moment,”  did hope ever fear the bitch called karma? no. actually not at all. because suffering and pain didn’t frighten her. they were her favorite companions.  “plus, with that brain of yours, you won’t get far. what sort of an idiot thinks it’s wise to put their dirty fingers inside of an open wound? are you that naturally dumb? have you ever heard of sepsis? yes? no? ”

[diivinehope]

♢ ╳ —  bentbrokenbullets‌.

Kel liked customers that knew what he was talking about, and few people knew the inside of his guns as Hope did. She wasn’t arrogant with it, just knew what she knew and carried herself with it. Of course, this usually meant that Kel had to be on his toes and ready to unlock the back room for a special showing.

“I’ll throw in an extra mag of 7’s if you spring for a new piece,” was called out before she was even done talking. He narrowed his eyes at her slightly as he started stacking ammo in her usual calibers. He braced his hands on the counter and pitched his voice high, mocking someone Hope would never meet. “Now what’s a nice girl like you doing, asking about a gun like that? DAO, with Gyurza rounds- hard to stock those but harder to get something to shoot them with.” His face cracked in a smile as he added, “Of course, anything the Russians consider an improvement is highly desired by all sorts. Think I’ve got a few options you’ll like, come on back.” There was an artistry to weapons like this, to the way they worked, that he hadn’t realized until he’d taken over this shop. Now he didn’t know how to go back even if he had the chance. Might as well make something beautiful out of it.

“what was that? do my ears deceive me or are you giving away free stuff? it sounds good, but then i reckon that the shotgun obviously has some issues. people only give away the things that they don’t need, ” the thing hope knew best was how to tease and get under someone’s skin, be it with words or blades, she knew her tricks.  “or are you just a seller with a heart of gold? ” however, at the nice girl comment she only scoffed, rolling her eyes ever so subtly. at least around weapons she was always in a stellar mood. 

 “don’t you know anything about this nice girl? or does your memory betray you? but guess i won’t be so nice with a gun like that, right? ” with a raise eyebrow, she listened attentively, as if he was telling her the sweetest story the world had ever heard. only tales of metal and fire and death mattered in the end.  “ so does that mean that you don’t have the udav? all right, all right, the DAO isn’t that bad either. but it definitely doesn’t have a cooler name ... and i know my russians well. there’s a reason why their things are in such high demand. they never disappoint.  so, what are you waiting for? take me to wonderland! ” 

[diivinehope]

♢ ╳ —  hypnoidize‌.

lips flutter in a smile, eyes still shining under chandelier lights. skill, perhaps, how he manages to catch every turn-glimmer in those big eyes, makes him look like a thing softer than those teeth behind closed-mouths grins would say. 

she and him are alike, in their different ways. 

“i suppose. though i would imagine there’s dead, then there’s dead after suffering - then we get into the tricky business of extortion and which teeth to pull out first, no? you need to give yourself some credit, angel. i would say there’s such a thing as too successful in your line just as there is mine.” heads tilt slightly, hands placed lightly on waistlines, slow steps to the sway of the music. 

“why, i’d be honoured if you were the one to kill me, sweet.” his words are saccharaine, too sugar-dipped for the topic. “How much would a bullet to my head be? i think a few of my dear patrons at the asphodel may be quite heartbroken by such a thing, but perhaps it might be what’s best in the end.” 

perhaps he should be more concerned of her words. he merely spins her, skirts flowing. 

“just remember angel, if you kill me, who else will put up with that sour temper of yours?” 

too focused on the music, she didn’t bother to return his smile. instead her face remained serious, stoic, as if frozen in time. a monster made of stone and ice.  “ now you’re just flattering me. but maybe, just maybe, you’re right. still, like i’ve said, things can’t get more permanent than death. everything else is just child’s play. speaking of teeth, oh i can’t describe to you how fun pulling them out is. at this point, i could be a dentist. but teeth are overrated anyway. it’s better to just cut body parts off. they can’t grow back, ” this time, she did laugh at her own words, far too amused by the picture she was painting inside of her own head. red, all she ever saw was red. 

but in spite of her outcries and complaints, hope actually danced with great ease and grace, both of which were products of a time now long forgotten. they remained concealed somewhere between her bones and rib-cage, all hidden and overshadowed by her current cruelness and rigorousness.  “ i wouldn’t want it any other way. i only have the right to kill you. no one else.  ”

“ how much? well for you, i wouldn’t even ask for a penny. i would do it all for free,  ” her words were always there to cause harm, bite hearts. hope, in the end, didn’t know better. 

the spin took her by surprised, but still, she had no issues with keep up with their little dance as she only grew more confident with each passing minute. and yet for reasons unknown to her, she felt sadder than ever. and then she realized. he had outgrown the darkness around them. but she became it. 

along the way, he had outgrown her too. her only true friend. they both belong to two different worlds now.  “ i don’t need anyone to keep up with my tempter, ” she finally spat out while letting go of his arm, already on her way to disappear into the thick crowd. she was alone. she would always be alone. she didn’t need anyone else. 

she had once been so alone and hungry that along the way she ate her own heart. 

[diivinehope]

♢ ╳ —  catalinacarter‌.

date: september 22nd location: a mcdonalds nearby status: open

Catalina got what she wanted out of the night, anyone else liked it or not. While the ball was surely her Cinderella moment, there was no Prince (or princess, for that matter) Charming to catch her attention long enough to stay. Maybe she stole his wallet and she could track him down more efficiently- but none the matter. She wanted some nuggets and a flurry, so here she was.

She got the alert on her phone in the otherwise quiet McDonalds. Flipping her phone over, Cat widened her eyes as she read the breaking news headline. The police commissioner was dead, and it seemed that Catalina had left just before it happened.  Fuck, she thought, yet her panic wasn’t as high as it would’ve been. If anything, she was relieved she got out of there. As the door opened, Cat looked up and noticed they were also at the ball. “Oh, hey!” She called out, a look of relief on her face as she gestured them over. “You were at the ball- I’m glad you’re okay.”

for a professional hitman, hope certainly wasn’t doing a really good job at staying invisible, and more importantly -  at being unrecognizable. she didn't really expect the other woman to beckon her over, but the gestures she was making were hard to ignore. can’t a girl just eat her french fries in peace? hope wondered as she contemplated whether or not to come closer. but why was also everyone so obsessed with the ball? now that was the more important question. sure, the tension was certainly in the air now, but it had also always been there. all it needed was a little push for others to feel it too. maybe that was the problem. maybe others just weren’t used to such things. 

“ no, actually i’m fucking dead. now i’m just a floating apparition that you’re currently imagining in your head. it must be because of all the stress after the ball. or maybe you can talk to the dead. wait, you can actually hear me? finally, i’ve found someone that can see me, ” she exclaimed, but her tone was clearly laced with a nice dose of sarcasm. hope, after all, was a first class asshole. nothing smarter could’ve come out of her mouth anyway. 

[diivinehope]

♢ ╳ —  hekatea‌.

time: late september location: city streets status: open to all

It was curious, what followed her in the days since the shooting. Sometimes it was scenes, sometimes it was a smell. Most of the time it was the sounds. The other day it was a pop and clang of metal hitting tile floors. The day before it was a specific shrill scream she heard when trying to sleep. Today she heard crying.

It traveled on the wind and echoed between the towering buildings. So loud sometimes she had to stop and check - look around and search the scene just in case. Even if looking meant stopping at the most inopportune moments like at work or standing in line. That moment today was crossing a street. Stood still in the crosswalk, Vex’s eyes frantically searched the crowd of people walking on sidewalks. 

Making little notice of the blaring horns of vehicles passing by, Vex asked out loud, “Where is that sound coming from?”

she was not a savior. for christ’s sake, she loathed people. that’s why she had no problem with killing all the vermin. her hands were only meant to do one thing and one thing only ; take, take, take. take a life, squeeze it and turn it into dust, a pile of bones and dead meat. her hands knew nothing of softness. greed and cruelness were integrated into ever cell of her body, there was no escape. but maybe fate had something else in store for hope. 

was the girl blind or far too lost in her own thoughts? it didn’t matter in the end as hope quickly found herself jumping to her rescue. she yanked the girl forward in a matter of only a few moments, pushing her onto a sidewalk and far away from all the impatient drivers. “ are you fucking dumb or do you just have a death wish? who the fuck cares? this is new york! people make way too many fucking sounds here, ” she was always angry, but now that boiling, cell-consuming anger hope only felt toward herself. fuck.  did she just help someone? no, this had to be a mistake. this had to be a dream. she practically felt sick to her stomach. this really had to be a mistake, a mirage. 

[diivinehope]

♢ ╳ —  bentbrokenbullets.

Open Starter | Delicate Balance | Etna Weaponry

It wasn’t his first thought when the gun rang out, but it had definitely hit him before he got home. Gonna be a busy week. These sorts of fluxes in demand for… product were normal, every one felt a bit more secure when they thought they’d be able to defend themself. Kel knew it didn’t work that way, but with a business founded on the sale of weapons he wasn’t about to tell them otherwise. Wasn’t good to hear the guy selling you a gun saying that you wouldn’t have a chance against an obviously professional hitman if the target happened to be on your back. Happy customers were the ones that came back- when they didn’t get killed.

So when a familiar face was shown through the door, he waved Brontes away with a wan smile and propped his feet on his cabinet with a sigh. “I was wondering if you’d show up today. Not big on delays when the gears start grinding are you?” It was different doing business with friends- he wanted them to be right about what their purchase would do. “So what can I do for you?”

hope had unintentionally slept most of the day away, but unlike many others she certainly wasn’t stuck in a pity of hysteria after the ball. in fact she had no problems with sleeping or resting like some lazy cat. people were always dying, sometimes thanks to her. so the despite the sudden tragedy, the feeling in the air wasn’t new to her. death had a way of bringing everyone closer and the weight of loss wasn’t always easy to carry, but hope was different. she felt nothing. well nothing that should’ve been felt. there were worse ways to die. the police commissioner certainly had it easy. at least he was wearing a suit when it happened. no need to change anything for the funeral, no? it seemed like a good way to save some money - at least to hope who was constantly cackling at the idea. 

when she finally woke up, she decided to drop by her favorite place. bars, shooting ranges and weapon shops, it wasn’t actually that easy to pick a favorite spot, but her mind was always changing. tomorrow, she would find a new favorite place.  “there’s nothing more that i love in this world than the smell of new guns. so yeah, don’t mind me stopping by, ” her usual cockiness wasn’t needed at this place so she spoke calmly as she slowly waltzed around, trying to let her eyes enjoy in the visual feast. “probably the usual. but also... got anything extra new? i’ve read online about this new russian gun called ‘udav’. have you heard of it? do you know what it means in russian? boa. like the snake. i don’t think it’s available in the states. at least not legally. but you know me, i’m always open to suggestions. ”

[andhetakesandhetakesandhetakes]

[diivinehope]

@hypnoidize​

[diivinehope]

♢ ╳ —  hypnoidize.

her words are sharp but mean nothing to him, cleo’s smile growing wider, if anything. it’s familiar, the knife-points, the sharp bites. he’s not sure he would feel safe with hope if it weren’t for them.

“oh, darling – god knows it’s a challenge, but it’s one I hardly have any doubts with when it comes to you meeting it – if not being a bit too successful in accomplishing. I’m certain there’s more than one unlucky victim from this roster for you to spill some red tonight.”

he does laugh at her last jab, a sound that’s more windchime than boy. charming. look too closely and you’ll note how his eyes are still ever-glassy.

“mm, perhaps I could. but where’s the fun in that, angel? can’t I want to spend some time with my dear old friend? we hardly catch up enough as it is – come, I won’t take no for an answer.” he’s already tugging at her hand, easily stepping into whatever tune the band plays. “entertain me, darling. a dance or two won’t kill you, no?”

at the mention of the word ‘darling’ she sighs and rolls her eyes while her lips remain pressed tightly together - it’s a not so subtle sign.  “ you know that i love a good challenge, but there’s no such thing as too successful in my area of business. dead is simply dead. things can’t really get more successful than that. ”

  “ but don’t test your luck, fuck, ”  there she goes again with her special nickname for him, no one does it better than hope.  “ or else you might find yourself on my list,  ” this she says proudly, unable to hide her macabre grin. 

“ my statement still stands. but maybe it’s because you’re so fucking annoying? did i ever tell you that? well i’m telling it to you now. you’re so fucking annoying, i think i might just have to put a bullet in your skull,  ” and yet despite her cruel words and jabs, she’s unable to turn down his offer,  “ maybe not, but it could kill you, ” she laughs again, but the sound of her laughter is almost sweet. he's the ghost of her past, a time machine. around him not all old memories taste so bitter. yet she cannot say it. she cannot let her mind remember. she’s too lost in the dark. 

[diivinehope]

♢ ╳ — hypnoidize.

DATE & TIME: september 22, 2019; 10:00pm LOCATION: founder’s ball  STATUS: closed for @diivinehope

“angel.” he greets the girl as he approaches her, champagne flute between fingers and a smile that is almost warm when he sees her. “i love the look - though i do quite miss the red that usually accompanies you. is that an addition for later, or are we keeping bloodstains out of leather tonight?” 

familiar things, the way she is all sharp-edge, how he is the morning-after-missing. dangerous things made for the best kind of bad company, and he supposes it’s why the two of them have always been close, despite everything. 

“dance with me, angel? i’d like to steal you before whatever poor victim keeps you busy for the night - not too much to ask for, no?” 

“fuck, ” she greets back. a girl with knives instead of eyes, she’s ready to cut him with her sharp gaze. truth be told, she’s much happier to see the glass of champagne than him, but she supposes that it’s not meant for her. “ do you ? well something could be arranged.  but it’s a bit hard to leave a stain on leather. especially if it’s black. the darkness of the material absorbs all the blood. ”

at his proposal, however, she rolls her eyes, snorting in amusement. she’ll never understand why he stays with her. but they’ve always been like the sun and the moon. she - the blazing and destructive but dying star and he - the forever elegant and mesmerizing celestial body. 

“ fuck off, ” her words are always like this, cruel and ruthless, but a girl like her knows no better. her tongue is not fully her own, it’s a machine trained to cut.  “ why can’t you just find someone else to bother ? look, the whole venue is filled with hundreds of people. why me ?”

[diivinehope]

LOCATION: founder’s ball AVAILABILITY: @zeusluli

the glass of whiskey that was up until recently tightly nursed in one of her hands is now left forgotten on one of the many tables in the ball room, the caramel colored drink turning yellow with each passing minute due to the chunks of ice cubes mixed with it. hope would rarely ever abandon her drink for the sake of another person, but the urge to speak with luli is stronger than her thirst. 

when she had first started working for luli, hope certainly didn’t expect to grow so fond of her boss. it wasn’t the type of fondness that actually represented love. no, she loves no one. but over time, she’s simply learned that loving another person is not the same thing as admiring them. in the same manner, you can still be amazed by someone, even if you don’t like them. 

so the ferocious little beast quickly approaches luli, hoping to hear something promising. perhaps the invisible leash that holds hope back could eventually turn loose. not a day goes by without her dreaming of massacres and blood, and the urge to bite is always there. she just wants to hear her command. “ luli,” she greets the other with a half smile, taking a careful look at the other woman, “ you look ... powerful. ”  she likes that. she respects that. “ has the night been treating you well ?  ”

[diivinehope]

LOCATION: founder’s ball AVAILABILITY: @ofdvwns

she feels suffocated. no, actually, there’s a better word for what hope’s feeling, but it has nothing to do with a lack of breath. she is bored and disappointed, and what she wants to do now is to find the quickest way out of the awful maze. she likes to party too, likes to test her own limits, but balls are different.

 too tedious for her taste, she would never willingly choose to attend one. as a child, she usually got dragged to them and now she felt obliged to show up. zeus needs her. she cannot forget that.  

but that however does not stop her from complaining. she has a big mouth and an even longer tongue so it’s only natural that she feels the urge to talk. ‘‘ the music here is shit, ’’ she falls silent for a moment to take a quick puff of her cigar, but there’s really not much that could make make her feel better. “ i was certainly expecting more. the music is actually more fitting for a funeral. i can’t be the only one who thinks that, right? ” she asks, turning her head to the nearest person. maybe it's all just one funny premonition. 

[diivinehope]

LOCATION: founder’s ball AVAILABILITY: @coldbloodedkriller

it’s a joke. it’s a fucking farce. but then again, every event in new york city usually is exclusively fitted for the pretentious assholes. hope knows it. hope grew up in that faux world. those were the golden years, the golden dreams. yet she doesn’t miss the times that went by too quickly. if anything, perhaps her experience can come in handy. not that she cares enough to play by all the socially accepted rules. 

she does have a dress on , she did her best to at least look presentable, but pretty smiles and kind words have never been her specialty. perhaps she was simply born rude, she crawled out of her mother’s womb with a wicked grin and her tiny hands clenched into  shaking fists ; she's always been ready for a fight. 

but the easiest way to swallow all the bullshit down is with the help of some alcohol. no, scratch that. lots and lots of alcohol. if she could, she would fill up a swimming pool with whiskey and vodka. but she unfortunately can’t, so she settles for crystal glasses. but among all those people, it’s hard to move, it’s hard to walk and drink simultaneously, and hope has yet to master that extra skill. so in a matter of only a few seconds, she ends up spilling half of her drink on another guest.  “what the fuck, dude? what the fuck? watch where you’re going!  ” it’s clearly her fault, but all hope can see is that her glass is half empty. that cannot be forgiven. 

[filmgifs]

The Killers (1946) dir. Robert Siodmak

[itsboundtobetragic]

[lifeinpoetry]

I dream of massacres. / I am a garden of black and red agonies.

Sylvia Plath, from “Three Women,” Winter Trees (via lifeinpoetry)