"I'm not one to hold grudges."
Fixing the door hadn't exactly been an easy feat, in fact Gwen had given up five minutes in after she'd watched her brother delve off into the shadows, pretending that she couldn't see the figure waiting for him with nothing more than their steady heartbeat giving away. In the end, she'd been too tired, mentally and physically to struggle with the shattered wood that splintered, and had simply lifted her table and slumped it against the hole where her door had once stood, before calling it a night and stumbling her way up the stairs and wondering if she'd wake up to find it some strange dream.
It hadn't been of course, she'd realized that when she'd awoken the next morning with her wrist still throbbing something awful and her whole body feeling like a building had collapsed on top of her, aches and pains tearing her apart in their terrible agonies as she struggled to catch her breath, laying upon her sheets that had tangled around her limbs like bondage, holding her down like the clawed hooks of hells, pulling her into her damnation below where she'd suffer for all her sins.
But before she could truly delve into her own dramatics, before she could sit there and do something disastrous like think about her stained soul, her haunting ghosts, her breaking heart in the quiet of her room...she heard something in the air drop, and her hands latched out just in time to catch Scruffy as he'd pounced from her bedside table, into her open arms as he yowled indignantly, pawing at the bruises of her face as if furious at her interruption to his daily routine of trying to smother her with his thick fur that she found everywhere.
"You're lucky I haven't skinned you yet." She muttered, barely able to afford a scowl on her dark features that ached, letting him go so he could knead the soft skin of her arm, trying to get comfortable and taking up the rare opportunity to lie down upon her mortal corpse that was always desperate to keep herself busy, so she didn't have a chance to succumb to the past and die from everything the world contained, the things she'd seen, the things she'd heard, the things she'd done all for the sake of survival that she hadn't even wanted, only not allowing herself the relief of death because of the guilt at being able to live while her brothers couldn't.
And yet, Kaz was alive, well, some part of him was she supposed, a darker part of himself that he'd brought forth for a dangerous and addictive taste for vengeance and brutality, forsaking the softness that had once maimed him because it no longer served him...and wasn't it strange, wasn't it ironic that the two had spent most of their lives apart...and had become the same kind of monster in their separation?
There was a part of her that wondered if it would be such a sin that she just...didn't get up, that she continued to lay upon her tangled sheets and just wait until death and rot would take her, let her fall asleep and not wake up, to finally become the corpse she felt like and leave the mortal coil of the earth to it's own devices. The thought, the relief of peace or eternal damnation something that she desperately wanted to grasp in her greedy hands...and yet, even now it appeared that she was a coward who could never reach for the things she wanted because she believed she didn't deserve them, whether it be death...or whether it be love.
Grey eyes were haunting her, following her, accusing her with every simple movement she took, betrayal running deep and bleeding into the scars they both carried, and saints, what she would give to just to heal what had been broken or even erase it completely, so she wouldn't have to feel this weak, this heartless, this agony.
But she deserved his hatred, there was no question about it, she deserved to be looked at with scorn, she deserved everything he'd give her and more, he'd place a bullet through her skull and she'd thank him with her dying breath...but the pain she felt was bittersweet, because in the end, it was something they fucking shared, only she didn't have the right to feel it. Falling in love with Jesper Fahey was easier than breathing, and now she was reaping the consequences of such action, because inside her there was a burning, a cathedral of longings to devour her divinity and sanity, leaving nothing but ash and wasted desires in its wake.
Falling in love with Jesper was easy, it was true, he was a museum full of art while the stupid masses of the world kept their eyes shut...but breaking him had been that much easier, building him up only to tear him dowm, tear his heart into pieces and revel in his misery like a god of trickery, and finally, Gwen realised that she'd earned her name of monster most completely.
Killing men, killing the men of Ketterdam most specifically wasn't a sin, nothing true, nothing of real substance, it wasn't something that had stained her because they, themselves were sinners. They had all done something for survival, for greed, for power or their own sadistic needs, their hands had been stained just as much as hers were and they were the ones who'd suffered because of it from a god entrapped in a humans corpse...the people she was paid to kill were never innocent, they were never clean...and perhaps Jesper wasn't either but he was good, and the ruin of that would finally place her on her damned pedestal that she'd carved her way to with bloodshed and horror.
With a whimper, Gwen pressed her head further back against the pillow, throwing an arm over her eyes and pressing down hard until stars danced across the darkness in her vision, feeling that awful growl in her throat, that terrible ache that made her gaze sting holding the weight of unurshed tears, because what the hell was she meant to do now?
But the answer came quick, came violently, a spiteful thing that laced through her veins and made them twist with power until her breath was caught between bruised lips and held there most completely. You get up, you always get up, when the world knocks you down, when fate conspires against you to make you go gently, you get up with bared teeth and trembling hands...and you show them what happens when a storm wears the skin of a gentle human, the voice had aged, had changed with her grief, but it was her fathers, that much she could remember, even when it sometimes sounded like Jordies, it was his...and just like that, she was ready to face the day as if it were a battlefield.
Getting up was the hard part, it always was, but today just seemed that more difficult after the strain of her own abilities wreaking havoc upon the unfortunate souls who'd gotten in her way. The way her bones seemed to have become brittle, the way her skin felt as easy to bruise as a peach, the headache that was pressing against every side of her mind until she felt consumed by misery and insanity, it was all incredibly excruciating...and the proof that she was still alive as she stood on her own two feet with a pained groan that almost felt relieving as she ignored the familar mask that lay upon her floor like a calling.
Because it wasn't the Stranger who was needed today, it was Gwen Rietveld...and wasn't that a terrifying thought indeed.
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Strolling the streets of the Barell was alot more nerve wracking then it had ever been before, the slight limp to her step, and the way her hands seemed to shake something awful practically stamping a sign above her head that said 'easy picking, first come first serve'. She knew she could take whatever any of them threw at her, she hadn't made her name by just being a shadow to fear, but that didn't exactly mean she was dying to get her hands dirty again when she'd spent the vast majority of the morning scrubbing her skin until it was raw and bleeding in an effort to wash away the sins of the night.
And so, when the slanted building of the Slat came into view, Gwen would by lying if she didn't admit she could feel reliefs warm embrace wash over her as her shoulders finally slumped from their weighted burden, feeling as though she could finally breath as she wandered over towards it, aching feet dancing over the dips and cracks of the ground beneath her...only to stop herself short before she could reach the doors, her ever willing ear picking up the voices inside, speaking amongst themselves with aggression in their tones, like they were all rearing for some kind of fight which she didn't doubt they would.
Honestly, she didn't really feel like having her face more recognised than it had to be as she sighed quietly, risking a step back to glare, dark eyes glistening and sharp in the ferocious wind, looking at the building for any sign of a weakness she could exploit so she wouldn't have to stumble through those bastard doors and suffer the annoyance of socialisation. Kaz had only asked her to come to him and only him when she'd finally be able to stand on her own two feet again, apparently rather quick to use his advantages...well, her advantages as his weapon in his desire to make Ketterdam bow, and that was the way she'd rather it stay.
She never said she'd join the dregs, join his murder of crows...she just agreed to be his killer.
But then her gaze caught something, something that she could use to her advantage as a smile curled at the corner of her bruised lips...staring up at the open window that seemed almost to be waving in the harsh winds like it was welcoming her...and who was she to ignore such a calling? Her hands moved, shifting into a familar dance as the air began to grow restless and cold, pulling around her mortal corpse, wrapping around her like a sping coiled as she took a deep breath...then let it go as she was lifted off of her feet, slamming herself into the walls opposite to throw herself higher before she finally hooked her fingers over the window still, and pulled herself up with a flourish.
"You should really lock your windows Kaz, you never know what the wind might drag in-"
It was almost easy, the affectionate taunt upon her tongue, like a sister joking with her brother, annoying him because she simply could...but whatever Gwen was going to say died in her mouth and left ash in its place when she looked up from pretending to brush dirt off of her shirt to find five pairs of eyes, eyes she definitely remembered when they'd witnessed her torture, now watching her with various expressions varying from confusion and interest...all the while her brother stood with his back to the vanity behind him, not even trying to hide a dark grin at the abrupt horror maiming her features as she seriously debated throwing herself back out of the window.
"I'll keep that in mind, have a seat."
Oh you bastard, you absolute fucking bastard, she thought, lips twisting into a dangerous snarl, wanting to slap that stupid smug look off of his face as she refused to even spare his other crows a glance, slowly lowering herself in the chair furthest away from everything while trying desperately to keep her gaze from wandering over to a familar figure who made her chest suddenly ache with a longing that would be her ruin.
Jesper didn't seem suprised to see her, not really, not at all, in fact, he hadn't even lifted his head at her presence, seemingly content to just sit in the corner, cleaning his pistols repeatedly, long fingers swift and talented like they always were...and she despised the fact that she felt hurt by his indifference, as if it wasn't well deserved because saints, looking at him, pretending he wasn't all she thought about, all she'd dreamed about since the moment she'd met him was tearing her apart, and everything she wanted to say, to do, leap across the room, fall down to her knees and beg for forgiveness, press kisses to those calloused palms and pray for mercy, maybe even apologise until she was blue in the face.
Her greedy heart was miserable and hungry, and the blood of his silence told her everything she needed to know as she looked at him. Their every meeting, their every touch, exchanged look...it was all sweet cruelty, because she'd been carving her darkness into his flesh all the while he called her beautiful, calling her incredible and soft and worthy...he wasn't paying enough attention to her destructive nature, and now they were both suffering the consequences.
"I didn't expect you for another few days at least, that excited to start working for me?" Kaz's rather depressing voice was a welcome distraction as it pulled her back to him, that rough drawl grating on her unsuspecting ears like nails upon chalk as he stared her down carefully...and she knew that he had seen where she'd looked at, knew he had noticed her weakness the moment she'd stepped inside the room...and she knew that she didn't care in the slightest as she shrugged and ignored the pain that laced through her at the simple movement.
"Don't flatter yourself, I'm working with you, not for you. You wouldn't even be able to match my pay roll if you tried." Gwen replied boredly, picking some lint from off of her dark pants only to almost lose her finger in a hole that rested below it that she hadn't even noticed that morning, mentally ordering herself to buy some new pants at some point in the near future, considering the majority of her clothes actually did have quite a few rather embarrassing tears from her rather aggressive style when it came to washing them because of her need to be clean all of the time.
And yet, the Brekker boy only seemed amused at her words, lips twitching and gaze shining as they stared at each other and saints, it was easy to forget how alike their features sat upon their face until they were back in the others presence, the same nose, same ears, same eyes...how did she really not notice? However, there seemed to be someone who was looking rather confused by their interactions, his head swirling, practically bouncing between the two like it was some kind of match, as if awaiting heads to start rolling because what the fuck was he actually witnessing?
"So...that's it then? She tried to kill you, she almost killed you actually, you tortured her and then you find out you're siblings and...and all is forgiven? Just like that?" Wylan Van Eck finally asked the question that had been weighing heavy upon everyone's mind since the moment that really gross stuffed goat had been thrown to the floor, the pieces falling like a stack of dominoes, the way Kaz had paled, the longing that he barely disguised, that name, that very name that he'd called Nina once, all that time ago when she'd been partically annoying and throwing food at him.
"I'm not one to hold grudges, Merchling."
But at that, everyone snorted, including Gwen because even she knew that was definitely a fucking lie, smirking at the dark glare he sent her way like it was a warning for her to shut up, as if that was ever going to happen...she'd missed years off of their rather depressing lives by playing the mischievous little sister set to wreak havoc, and she wasn't going to stop until he at least had eighteen grey hairs from having to deal with her bloodied chaos. "Besides...having a living legend on our side is a good investment, don't you think? Especially one with her...talents."
"Because she's a squaller you mean?" Nina asked, leaning forward with her plump arms crossed over her chest, still watching the so called Stranger carefully, and secretly wondering how a mere girl who looked as though a single breeze would knock her down, with ears that she'd still had yet to grow into and skin that looked as easy to bruise as an apple had become something so feared, that a mere whisper of her name had heads rolling in terror, a creature of darkness, of stolen breaths, a monster that was torn apart my grief, all of those names surrounding her and more.
But then, Gwen looked at her, just looked at her with those empty eyes filled with destructive intentions, like they were rotting in their sockets, eyes that have seen the worst of what the world had to offer and had decided to increase in tenfold instead of falling into the abyss of broken humanity...and suddenly, the heartrender had no doubts that the girl in front of her was just as monstrous as the rumours would say.
"I think he meant because I'm a rather incredible killer, corpse witch. Grisha abilities or not, I would of found a way to make Ketterdam bow eventually, one way or another." She shrugged her shoulders easily, as if she was simply talking about something as dull as the weather, waving a nonchalant hand around that was still mottled with blues and purples, still looking achingly sore and painful, but she didn't spare it a glance, didn't dare. Her weakness had already cost her, his agony had been the nail on her coffin, and she refused to allow them all a second chance of finding evidence of her ruin to hold against her.
"Good, now that's out of the way...you're all dismissed."
Kaz finally spoke up once more, voice rougher that the howling skies that seemed to be beating against the crooked walls of the slat outside, and Gwen felt her face twist in confusion as she shot a glare towards him, wondering what the point was in asking her there because nothing of substance had happened, if it was just some cruel observations that he wanted to watch her moon over his sharpshooter as the other crows walked away, something that had her hair standing on edge in frustration as they lingered and whispered...all except Jesper of course, who'd stormed away the second the word dismissed had left her brothers lips.
She fought down the urge to follow him, call for him, tell him that every lie she'd cursed him with, her feelings for him had never been one of them, that his lips upon hers had made her feel holy, that she'd place her forehead against the cold metal of his pistol and let him pull the trigger, again and again if it proved her devotion to him. She wanted to tell him all of that and more...but even the likes of herself could never be that cruel.
"I have a job for you later, Stranger. After I've finished my own that is, so I'll trust that you'll be able make you way back to me?" And it was rather pathetic how much the Rietveld girl found herself relying on Kaz's voice as it brushed over her like salt against burned skin, lifting her gaze from where it had been staring ever so longingly out of the door to quirk a brow up at him, watching the way he pulled his black coat on, and noting with some amusement at the way his hands curled over the sleeve of his shirt, to make sure it wasn't shrugged up, just like he had always done when they were still children.
"Obviously. But, one question...What was the point in making me come down here? It wasn't as if there was anything important I needed to see...or more accurately, there wasn't anyone important I needed to kill." Gwen asked, standing up and ignoring the ache in her legs as it threatened to pull her down, the question searing into her mind until it felt close to boiling, because the so called meeting had barely lasted more than ten minutes, and while she was pretty sure they'd obviously been talking about something before her dramatic entrance, it still didn't explain why she'd even been needed in the first place.
"I asked you here because the others needed to know who you are behind the mask...That you're human, not just the myth that haunts the Barrel. I prefer complacency with the others, with my crows, not fear."
But just like that, it all clicked as she groaned quietly, rubbing the palm of her hand down the bruised panes of her face in some exhausted resentment...she'd spent so long hiding behind the Stranger, that she'd forgotten that the whole driven point humanity was sentiment and trust, and that now they knew who she was, on both sides of the spectrum, she had to build such things with the crows her brother pretended he didn't care about if she wanted to stay alive, stay beside him, be more than a myth or horror story...after all, people were far more inclined to try and save a human rather than a ghost.
And by the time Kaz had finally turned around from where he'd been standing, sorting out the cuffs of his sleeves to make sure they sat right against his skin, he found that his sister was gone, like she hadn't even been there in the first place, with only the open window blowing a cold breeze through his room being the only indication of her ever being there causing his face to twist in displeasure...that was just what he needed, another one of his crows that could disappear into thin air...this was going to be fun.