#kitt monroe

[gangsofolympia]

It’s Kitt Monroe, leader of the Bastard Aristocrats from @gangsofolympia

art commission by the amazing @lacroixgrimoire

[gangsofolympia]

Bold relationships tag

I was tagged by @fayeisnowwriting. Bold the tags that a relationship in your WIP has.

Kitt Monroe and Essie Essex

height difference | mutual pining | first kiss | first love | wedding | in-jokes | lgbt+ | family disapproves | friend disapproves | would die for each other | fake relationship | arranged wedding | cuddlers | pda friendly | and they were room mates | holding hands | secret relationship | opposing world views | opposing personalities | opposing goals | getting a pet | have kids | want kids | grow old together | relationship failures | rests head on shoulder | share a bed | token dummies | relationship doubts | they have a song | first date | share a jacket | sharing a blanket | mutual interests | study buddies | bathing together | crash into hello | accidental nudity | laundry | same hobbies | cooking for each other | big fancy gala | sibling rivalry | hair stroking | dancing | laying in the grass | watching stars together | watching the other sleep | shared values | friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | lovers to enemies | childhood friends | slow burn | love triangle | toxic relationship | sitting on each other’s laps | can’t be together | hugs | forehead touches | neck kisses | car/motorbike rides | compliments | nicknames | falling asleep together | late night talks | gifts |

Sorry just a short excerpt I felt like adding since it relates to this:

Essie remembered the day she had lost the old necklace, trading it to a local butcher for a loaf of bread, a half pound of corned beef, and two mint candy sticks when she was twelve. To her, a full stomach was much better than a piece of useless junk. She'd taken to tucking it under her shirt so it wouldn't be stolen, but as she screamed and cried at the butcher's feet, begging him for food, it had fallen out and caught his eye.

“What about that necklace?” he'd said, his demeanor changing from solid ice to a suspicious warmth. “Here--” He turned, reaching for a cooler and pulling out a container and putting it on the counter along with a loaf of bread. “This is supposed to be my lunch and dinner for today, but you can have it if you give me that necklace.”

A child of the streets, Essie wasn't naive. She knew the necklace was worth much more than he was offering, but she also knew that the butcher would have a hard time selling it. She'd tried it herself, but nobody with any money ever came to the Davies. Essie knew how to survive, and food meant survival, and she wanted that food right then.

“I want that candy over there, too. Those mint sticks,” she said, nodding at an almost empty jar on the far end of the counter. A sign in front of it read 2 coin. Essie didn't know how to read much, but she did know her numbers. Numbers were important.

“Fine,” said the butcher, reaching over to pluck the remaining candy from the jar. He slapped it on the counter, and with a grunt, he held out his hand.

Essie eyed the door, taking a step toward the counter, ready to snatch up the food. Could she make it away in time?

“Don't even think about it,” the butcher said. He crouched down and stood again, bringing with him a heavy shotgun. “One shot and that's it, kid. Now, make good on your end of the deal.”

Essie unclasped the bronze chain from her neck, reaching up and dropping the necklace on the counter. Immediately, the butcher swept it away, putting it in his apron pocket.

“Take your stuff and go,” he said, turning away, and for a change, Essie did exactly as she was told.

She'd brought the food back to the Mansion, sneaking it in her bag past Cam and the older gang members. She, Kitt, Bea, and Mace had eaten well that night, and Essie waited until the other two had fallen asleep to share the mint sticks with Kitt.

I tag @coruscas @focsle @lucifers-cuvette @occorner and anyone else who wants to do this

[gangsofolympia]

Aesthetic board for Kitt Monroe by @occorner. Thanks so much!

[gangsofolympia]

Kitt Monroe, one of my OCs from Gangs of Olympia

leader of the Bastard Aristocrats

template is from here

[gangsofolympia]

flashbacks

"I'm sorry!" Katherine cried as her brother lay on the floor sniffling. He sat up, blood dripping from his nose. 

"It's okay, Kat," he replied after a moment's silence. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. "I forgive you."

Katherine sighed in relief, helping her brother from the floor, while the boy plotted in his head how best to get a hold of a knife without their mother noticing.

--- She lived in a mansion until she was five. Her first memories were those of her mother, beaten and bruised, dragging her away from the house by the arm, her other hand clasped around her brother's--her mother cursing between sobs, messy droplets of blood and saliva falling from her mouth and onto the cobblestone walkway--and the stone gargoyles looming over her, watching the scene while grinning through their hideous teeth.

[gangsofolympia]

Plywood and Steel

"So, how's Frankie?" Derek chuckled under his breath. "Same old," he replied. "Still an ugly bitch 'n' still tough as steel." "Sometimes I wish I could be like her," Kitt said. Derek looked her up and down. "But then I wouldn't be fuckin' you, now would I?" "No, I mean tough." "You're the fuckin' leader of a gang. You're hardly a teddy bear." "But I'm not tough as steel. I'm..." Kitt paused. "I'm a piece of plywood. With enough force, I break. People aren't afraid of wooden swords." She took her saber from its scabbard, her eyes scanning its smooth surface. "Steel ones, though..."

[gangsofolympia]

Dwarves of Olympia

She had heard of the dwarves through stories and songs from the old world. In the tales, the chubby man-like creatures were always happy, usually singing as they worked down in their mines, their cheeks round and rosy underneath their long beards. That was how Kitt had always imagined the dwarves would be, but the ones before her seemed like a poor imitation in comparison. They were gaunt, not fat, and dressed in dirty clothing, riddled with holes and patches. Their beards were cut short, the hair thin and wiry, and their faces sunken and pale. Kitt heard no singing as they rolled their carts back and forth, others stacking bricks and mixing some sort of gray paste to slather on top of them like softened butter on toast. In fact, aside from the sounds made by the work they did, there was silence among them. No one spoke--not even a whisper. They simply hobbled on their weak legs, doing their tedious work with their heads down.

A man stood off to the side, offering the dwarves "encouragement" as they worked through the day. Black-haired and black-eyed with a tan complexion, the man would blend into any crowd, but among the dwarves, he stood over them as a king.

Kitt made her way forward, assuming her usual saunter with her hands in her pockets. She stifled a sneeze. Dust hung in the air, creating a hazy fog that surrounded the work site. It smelled like burnt toast--most likely the hot tar or liquid cement being mixed nearby. The dwarves wore no safety gear, Kitt noted, watching one gingerly pour a cauldron of hot liquid into a hole in the ground. His face had turned bright red from the heat as steam rose from the bubbling substance, and his arms and shoulders trembled, as though the cauldron were a bit too heavy for him to handle.

Noting the black-haired man, Kitt approached him from behind, making sure to surprise him.

"Seems like they're making a lot of progress," she remarked, her eyes scanning the scene. She noted where a slew of apartment buildings had been located, each one lopsided and dirty with floors hastily added to the top as they filled.

She remembered being a young girl, just recruited into the Bastards. Cam had sent her and Essie to collect from the residents, when they were attacked by none other than a little old man. Essie had pushed him down, breaking his hip, and kicked him in the face. The man hardly had any teeth before, but the rest had fallen from his bloody mouth as he spat on the floor.

"Cwook," he had said. "You cwook steah our hawdearn mohey!"

Essie had kicked him again, this time in the head. The man continued to cough, finally vomiting blood and collapsing.

Now, those buildings were being replaced by new ones with shiny, white brick and sleek steel. 

"Get outta here, thug." The supervisor put his hands on his hips, stepping closer.

"Name's Kitt Monroe," the gang leader said, ignoring the man's words. She saw his face go pale.

[gangsofolympia]