a Riddle Inside a Mystery Inside a Jackass

Liam Mackenna. 27. Former Slytherin. Twin brother to Cait Mackenna. Muggleborn Thief. Spy for hire. Double agent. Mind reader. Bag full of Jedi mind tricks.

[liammackenna]

bitchtricks‌:

@liammackenna

she watches the scene with the hardened gaze of a vulture carefully circling a corpse, ready to pounce. her skin is stained a dark plum, damson colored marks slowly making themselves known across her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose. lips are cracked too, spilling blood, scarlet trickling down her chin, down her neck. she doesn’t make an effort to stop its downfall. instead, she’s observing. making careful notes of what she sees —– who she thinks might be hiding in the shadows. though she has already had an eventful night, has already shed her fair share of blood in her senseless desperation for the list. but if there’s one thing she has learned, it’s that her victims always have more blood to weep. so she studies the crowd closely, knowing full well that something is about to happen ( she can feel it in the very air, it’s practically sparkling, every breath is electrified ). lifeless eyes eventually zero in on a figure that seems vaguely familiar, and she apparates next to him, appearing out of thin air, her fingers closing around his wrist. her lips move uncomfortably close to his ear ( running a very real risk of dripping blood on his clothes ), and there’s a barely audible hiss. “ so you couldn’t stay away, then, could you? “ she whispers, and her teeth slam together, hiding behind a cat like snarl. tonight, her eyes have gained a quality that is beyond deranged - something far more wicked hiding in their depths. she’s on a mission for her master, so there is nothing she won’t do, a cruel desperation fueling her, making her see red. “ where’s little sissy? “ she pauses, her grip hardening, her teeth baring. they are stained crimson with her blood. “ is her name on the list? along with yours?” at that, she spits, saliva mixing with dirt and blood on the ground. “ should i flip a coin of who i shall kill first? now, wouldn’t that be nice. a fun little game for us to play. “

he's had enough. enough of the suspicion, the fear, the crazed animals that this list was turning everyone around him into. tonight this was going to end. he's going to burn that damn list. he's going to make sure of it. at any cost. at least that's what he'd told himself when he set out that night, not bothering to let his sister tow along, not bothering to let any allies of his tow along. alone would be easier. in and out, once the time was right. so he's standing in the shadows lent to him by an awning overhead caught in between two rooftops, just watching the scene play out before him. he's listening to the crowd, picking out voices and words and dropping them just as fast when they have nothing useful left to give him.

he hears bellatrix lestrange before she appears. and this time, he's ready. he doesn't care about the blood she's dripping onto him. he doesn't care about the crazed look in her eyes he's come to know all too well. as she grabs his wrist behind him his knife is already in his hand, slicing hers from forearm to palm. his eyes never leave the crowd ahead of him. "do that again," he starts slowly, calmly, even if his next movements are anything but as he flips the handle of the knife back, tip pressing into the side of her stomach, "or say that again, and you're going to find this in a much different place."

he wasn’t playing any games tonight.

[liammackenna]

mafaldahopkrk‌:

steadied  steps  echo  throughout  the  dimly  lit  alley  ,   cobblestone  no  match  for  the  hurried  pace  the  pair  seem  to  be  executing .  as  agitated  as  she  may  be  , tongue  presses  against  cheek  to  feign  any  retort  from  liam .   instead  ,  mafalda  turns  the  last  corner  with  haste  , hand  clutching  her  cashmere  scarf  to  shield  herself  from  the  nights  unforgivable  chill .  ‘  what  in   merlin’s  name  are  you  goin’  on  about ? ‘   a  particular  brow  raised  ,  as  vocals  take  ahold  of  her   and  where  they  should  tremble  ,  they  rise .  searching  for  answers  in   a   man   who’d   been   nothing  but   an   enmigma  ,  mafalda  cannot  help   but  let  out  a  slight  chuckle .  humourless  ,  laced  with  nothing  but  frustration  as  head  shakes  .  ‘  well ?  ‘ 

@liammackenna  

a hush was already on his lips as he turned around, looking over her shoulder at the way they came. ' you- ' he started, trying and struggling to not make his voice match hers- ' ought to pay more attention to your surroundings. consider it a debt repaid. you're welcome. '

clearly the lady underground wanted something from mafalda hopkirk. liam had seen her lackeys milling about the outside of the ministry, the ones he always passed by whenever he was making a drop in to the lady’s ‘office’. they were circling endlessly around the corners of the building, waiting for the first drop of blood in the water. the others under his 'mother's employ were certainly not as competent or as dangerous as he himself could be, but still, they weren't something to be laughed at or triffled with. he didn't know if they'd been seen what with all of the blonde's yelling. he hoped they hadn't. otherwise this was going to be one very, very long night.

[liammackenna]

ofminerva‌:

she had to remind herself so terribly often that this was a war, and that in war people got hurt. that was something that was hard to swallow, though, but when you added the fact that these people were often former students, it became even harder. minerva had never allowed herself to grow stoic at that fact, to accept that — to do so, was to turn her back on her nature. albus might be able to live with such facts, might be able to see the younger members of the order as soldiers just as much as the older ones. she did not.

every time she saw one of them bleeding, she was reminded of placing sorting hats on their heads, of teaching them in her classroom, of deducting or granting points to them. separating past from present was always hard for minerva — a sentimental being, underneath all her cynicism — and in this moment, all she saw was liam when he’d been eleven. 

he wasn’t even one of the younger members, and still she felt trapped in the memories. but only for a slight moment; minerva was pragmatic after all, easy to force her emotions down and to focus on the task at hand. maybe she was stoic, after all.

“i don’t doubt it,” she said, even though she did. eyes searched for wounds, for places she could heal with waves of her wand and muttered spells, for a source of blood to close up. “let me help you — where are you hurt?” she wished to yell at him, to bark as she would have when he was still a student, to scold him for being reckless. those days were over, though. they were something close to equals now, or were supposed to be something like that, at least. “do you know who got to you?”

he would've preferred if she'd scolded him, if she'd yelled, if she'd done anything other than what she was doing now. this- this was worst case scenario. no one was supposed to know about what happened to him when he wasn't working for the order, when he wasn't running around doing the lady of the underground's bidding. his secrets were his alone to deal with. it's why he'd chosen a place as secluded as this. a place as run down as this. despite having found his way indoors there was still a deep chill in his bones and the night air that had seeped in through the old wood of the place had done nothing to really help his current predicament.

he bit his lip, took a deep breath which was immediately forced out of him again with a grimace. let me help you; it was better if she didn't. it was better to keep her at arms length for all of this. where are you hurt?; at this point, he couldn't be sure. it felt like everywhere and all in his head at once, pained incessant alarms ringing in every nerve in his body. do you know who got you?;

that one caught him for a moment. 

he could tell the truth. 

he could lie.

yes. bellatrix lestrange has been getting me for years and i’ve let her do it. no. i'm as incompetent as i look right now and will probably look again after a couple weeks because this shit just doesn't end.

neither of those options seemed all that great. he shook his head, mumbled half of each word before slowly lowering himself down to the floor so he could lean against something, leaving trails of red as he went. he let his head drop. he couldn't really look at her.

[lifeinpoetry]

“everything I’ve ever done is an attempt to hide”

— El Pearson, from !!!be less afraid!!!

[liammackenna]

queenofquills‌:

@liammackenna​

she has done her fair share of running in high heels. probably more than what is considered HEALTHY ( or normal, for that matter ). she’s way too stubborn to choose shoes that are actually practical, and usually, it works out. but today, she can barely keep up. her legs are no match for his ( after all, she’s 5′’2 ) —- so she’s out of breath. getting a bit tired too, though she’ll never admit that. a hand reaches out ( she has to speed up to catch up with him ), and sharp fingers close around his wrist. claws digging into his skin, desperate to get a hold of him. make him slow down, so she can get a word in. “death eaters, mackenna?” she spits, teeth gritting together. crimson red lips pulling into a sharp sneer, pale eyes shooting sparks. mean tongues will say that rita herself is ALIGNED with the death eaters ( THAT SHE’S PLAYING A GAME OF DISTRACTION —- making sure people’s heads are too focused on meaningless gossip to notice what the death eaters and the pawns within the ministry are actually doing ). as if she’d ever wear an actual mask. “i thought you said that this was a safe meeting place. so it’s a bit funny how we were both just almost killed, don’t you think?” voice is lowered, tone becomes more poisonous, more dangerous. almost inaudible, barely a hiss. “there’s a leak in your gang of misfits, if i were you, i’d find it fast.”

those shoes were a god damn hazard. forget the fact that they made her slow but they made her loud. and anyone who spent enough time around him came to know that when it came to his work, when it came to gathering the information she so craved he was neither of those things. being slow and being loud was a hazard. it's what led to close calls like this. hell be damned if he was going to be taken down by a journalist in a pair of high heels.

he sped ahead as she latched onto him, twisting them between the streets and alleys he knew so well. he didn't stop for a few long minutes still, despite the fact he could hear her panting behind him. he was a runner by profession. that's what he knew how to do best. he turned a sharp corner and finally stopped, pushing her behind his form in the darkness as he peered around the end of the dank alleyway.

"unlike you, we have some honor among us. if there was any leak it's on your fucking end," he hissed, though the street ahead remained empty, just voices in the distance. "give me your shoes."

he'd had half the heart to throw them as far off as they would go while they were running. and with shoes like those it was better late then never.

[liammackenna]

ofminerva‌:

“i don’t know what you’re thinking,” says minerva. they’re sat at headquarters, the daily prophet lying on the table between them, the article that’s shaking everyone open. “but i hope you know that whatever happens, people will be protected.” she’s been drawing up plans with others, trying to think of what to do in what situation. if the names are incorrect, there’s people outside the order to protect. if the names are correct, there have to be more safehouses, more places for people to go and be safe. minerva’s not focused on what would happen to her, should she be outed. it’s people like liam ( @liammackenna ) she’s worried about. “if this is true … we’re not going to let it stop us.”

his cheek is leaning against a propped up fist. he can feel his nails digging into his palm. she's right, she doesn't know what he's thinking. but maybe if she could she'd see exactly how stupid what she was saying truly was.

he didn't need to look at the article face up on the table between them. he didn't need to read any newspaper. the frantic thoughts of order members running back and forth like caged rats told him all he needed to know. 

"that's fucking easy for you to say." his gaze was sharp when it finally met hers but he couldn't hold it for long. "if what they're saying is the truth then my sister and i are the first ones they're going after. and not just death eaters."

it was every single enemy he'd ever managed to make around the underbelly of diagon alley. it was every tentative ally he'd made and then sold their secrets straight to the order. this was more than just burning the bridges and starting from scratch somewhere else. he was a bloody dead man walking. him and his sister both. how was the god damn order supposed to protect them from people they didn't even know about? bloody good as dead, he was.

[liammackenna]

bitchtricks‌:

@liammackenna

the smile on her lips reeks of irony, poorly hidden sarcasm twinkling slowly in a dull gaze. she’s standing leaned against the door frame, her eyes equal amounts of glowering as they are amused. her attention is intensely focused on him, seemingly evaluating him, measuring him up. as if that isn’t something she has done a thousand times before. she’s watching him like he’s a toy, something for her to destroy, to ruin. to discard without a second thought. she takes a small step forward, entering the cellar. her high heels echo against the ground, stone floors making a hollow sound. “have you had enough yet?” she asks, head cocking to the side. a half smirk appears on her lips, and arms fold across her chest. “and how do you like my home? i’ve had it redecorated, quite recently.”

what he was, was fucking exhausted. his head leaned uncomfortably on his shoulder as his gaze rolled up to meet hers, obscured by blood and sweat. he tried to appear bored, let his exhaustion seep into dull eyes. he knew he'd screwed up a long while back on the 'job' she'd given him. he'd just been pushing off the inevitable. it was a fact to be bored about. he ignored her first question, blinked a little. he knew better than to try rubbing his vision clear. she'd finally found bindings he couldn't break out of and his wrists were sore from where they'd broken the skin.

"it's fucking dank as shit bella. i'm thinking you ought to check for mold."

[liammackenna]

ofminerva‌:

she was growing DESPERATE. desperate for a breakthrough, for names of death eaters or insight in their plans. minerva dealt with desperation in only one way: she tried to find what she needed. and so, on top of her regular duties, she was using every free night she had to spy. she’d turn into her cat form and lurk in suspicious places, places that were empty but could be occupied by death eaters, shady buildings and quiet alleys. any place of wizarding great brittain, she tried to stake out in, in the hopes that she would find something. anything. she hadn’t been too lucky yet, had come back to hogwarts tired and achy and empty handed almost every night, and so when she heard a noise on that evening, she felt hope. it lasted for a mere second, though.

she watched a dark figure ( @liammackenna ) burst through the door, and she retreated into the shadows more, her bean-toes making no sound on the wood floor. she watched, her eyes narrowed, her instincts sharp, waiting to see the intruder’s face. the light shone just right, and she recognised liam mackenna – or a shadow of him. minerva turned back to her usual shape after moving forward ( she had been hiding under a chair, and hitting her head on the bottom of that was not something she was planning on doing ). “liam? what happened?” her voice demanded an answer, but was laced with worry, mostly, as she moved over swiftly to support him.

he had a talent for finding the places no one really seemed to care for, to look at or make into anything worthwhile. he'd always been good at it, the one who found some abandoned hole in the wall for him and his sister to take shelter for the night. but she'd outgrown the need for places like those. he hadn't. especially on a night like tonight.

this is where he came to escape bellatrix black. at least it was one of those sorts of places that he had in his arsenal. there were quite a few. he needed them. escaping was becoming a ritual nowadays. though this one had been leagues short of graceful. he was breathing hard as his apparition ended, as he stumbled through the doorway he all but fell into to open. his legs felt like stone. his chest still felt like it was being stabbed by bella's favorite blade. he coughed, stumbling into the nearest chair.

the thing about places like these was that they were completely empty. completely alone. he needed that. the secrecy of it was the only thing he really did have in a situation like his. it was the only constant he had other than ‘bellatrix black was going to hurt you’. he hadn't checked the place to see that it was still as empty as he believed it to be. he never needed to. he was still trying to catch his breath when minerva crawled out from under the chair, still trying and failing to right himself as she became herself again and spoke, didn't move his shaky hold on the back of the chair until she touched him. he started for a moment, tried to flip himself around but for only a moment. that's all he had in him. if there really was a threat hiding up in one of these hole in the walls he wouldn't have been able to fight them off anyway. he shook his head, gulped down air and the blood still in his mouth, tried a thin smile. "you should see the other guy."

a lie. he'd hardly left a scratch on bellatrix black.

[the-bluespirit]

my family. my responsibility.

[rptoolkit]

Send me a ☄

And I will make you a starter using this random dialogue generator.

[roleplaymemesforyou]

Send 💬 + a rumor and my muse will react to it.

[liammackenna]

purkissing:

☄ STARTERS ( @liammackenna )

“ you did a somewhat bad thing for a good reason. i think it’s justified, ” doris shrugged her shoulders not particularly sure how to help other than her simple offering of justification. for the most part she stayed out of trouble and only a couple of months ago joined the order, all of it was very new and the last thing she wanted was to over step on her team mates during war times.

he shrugged a little, leaning back into the armchair a little as he took a long swig of his drink. " i've done worse for less. i'm not looking for a pity party. the only thing i'm looking for is for people to get off my back about it. nothing they can do to change it now. " but he knew it was merely wishful thinking. no matter what he did or how long he'd been around the order he would only ever be just one thing- the thief. the kind of guy they'd never trust with a god damn rock. might as well not sweat the minor details, or the collateral damage.

[liammackenna]

HYE: said i love you and meant it? to someone other than your sister?

“Yes. They know who they are.”

[sphinxmemesmusings]

My Character Must Confess in 3s

Blab: Three secrets they’re keeping.

Mwah: Three people they’d like to kiss.

Similar: Three members of the same sex they find attractive.

Different: Three members of the opposite sex they find attractive.

Pastime: Three hobbies they have.

Doing: Three habits that they have.

Psst: Three things that they’ve always wanted to tell your character.

Shh: Three things they wouldn’t want their parents to know.

Dream: Three wishes they have.

Want: Three things they would do to your character if they were alone.

[the-write-ideas]

Send me a △ and ask a really invasive question aimed at my character

They’ll have to:

Rate on a scale of 1-10 how much they don’t want to answer that question.

Answer that question.

[fyeahegerton]

If we get caught, they’ll kill us all.

[liammackenna]

task #4: this or that

tea or coffee ? coffee keeps you awake.

lace or velvet ? velvet feels disgusting.

wine or beer ? beer’s easier to get your hands on.

flying or apparating ? in one you get seen, in the other you don’t.

quills or pens ? who the fuck has the time for quills?

summer or winter ? winters weren’t fun.

muggle music or wizard music ? i’ll stick to what i know, thanks.

hot or iced ? because.

moon or stars ? caity always liked the stars more. guess it rubbed off on me.

honeydukes or florean fortescue’s ice cream parlour ? don’t have a sweet tooth but i’m sure she’d drag me into honeydukes if she had the chance.

beach or mountain ? it’s quiet up there.

shower or bath ? shower’s more efficient.

solid or patterned ? if you don’t want to be noticed why bother wearing something that flashes ‘NOTICE ME.’

cuddling or kissing ? because.

forehead kisses or cheek kisses ? because. don’t expect one out of me either.

roses or lavender ? no good reason for this one.

night or day ? i get more done at night.

fiction or non fiction ? the world’s already enough of a shitshow without having to remind myself of it.

transfiguration or potions ? nearly flunked potions.

concert or play ? i’ve seen enough of both in my day to know which is the better of the two.

robes or muggle clothes ? robes are clunky.

introverted or extraverted ? if you haven’t already guessed, i don’t like being noticed.

socks, slippers or barefoot ? shoes.

rose gold or bronze ? rose gold seems overly decadent.

bright or pastel colours ? pastel is easier to go unnoticed, i guess? 

small or big house ? dealt with small for this long. doesn’t make a difference to me.

library or bookshop ? i don’t like staying in one place for too long. bookshops you’re in and out.

quiet or loud ? what i wouldn’t give for some quiet.

truth or dare? because it’s more fun that way.

dragons or thestrals ? haven’t seen a thestral, so that answers that one.

thunderstorm or sunny ? they’re calming.

vanilla or honey scented ? the one sweet i can get behind.

silver or gold ? something about keeping expectations low because if you end up doing better you’re pleasantly surprised.

radio or newspaper ? less clutter laying about.

vocal or silent spells ? the less noticeable you make yourself the better.

garden or forest ? it’s bigger.

bag or backpack ? it served my twin and i well.

tea leaf reading or tarot card ? it’s all bullshit anyway.

celestina warbeck or OMEN ? if i have to choose one...

neat or messy handwriting ? doesn’t matter much to me. i’ve forged both.

lower case or all caps ? neither? why does it matter.

pancakes or crepes ? the one thing my sister knows how not to burn.

bertie bott’s every flavour beans or chocolate frogs ? jelly beans. never. again. never again, caitriona.

hogsmeade or diagon alley ? know it like the back of my hand.

over the word count or the bare minimum ? why pretend to say more than you actually have?

ghosts or werewolves ? ghosts have it good. they can disappear without any trouble at all.

cloud watching or star gazing ? caity liked it more.

countryside or city ? what is there to do in the country anyway?

witch weekly or the quibbler ? i prefer to get news without the hand-me-downs.

fresh fruit or fresh flowers ? what am i going to do with flowers?

sweet or sour ? not much of a sweet tooth.

big spoon or little spoon ? height’s generally an issue.

rooftop or balcony ? you’re not closed in up there.

nearly headless nick or the grey lady ? nick’s a little too chatty for my tastes.

lemon or lime ? caity stuck claim to lime first. oh well.

flobberworms or imps ? no reason.

satin or flannel ? a thief in satin. hilarious.

pearls or diamonds ? they’re worth more.

dinosaur kid or fairytale kid ? a lot of the orphanage kids were of the fairytale lot. i had to learn to keep up with them.

poetry or prose ? some people just don’t know how to just say what they mean instead of prattling on.

cats, owls or frogs ? got to be loyal to motor.