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She exchanges a smile with someone across the room -- not the target, not by a long shot, but hunters don’t show that they’re following someone -- no, she does this a few times over before turning and bumping into someone, her drink sloshing back and onto her own dress rather than them, “I am so, so sorry, I’m such a clutz, I didn’t mean...” a glance up then, before down at their feet, “Let me pay to have your shoes cleaned?”

It was as natural to her as breathing, for the Queen to run her fingers through Calliope’s medium-length, pale blonde hair. Izzy had always fancied the way it felt slipping through the cracks of her fingers, so silky soft and smooth. Even better than the thousand count-thread sheets her Queen slept on. It didn’t even matter when certain parts or strands were tainted with the blood of her canary’s latest victims. Izzy still enjoyed touching it, braiding it, and absorbing it’s blanket softness. It was soothing and given that Izzy missed out on these same, casual-girl sleepovers growing up, she appreciated when Calliope entertained her with a reserved tenderness that she managed solely for her benefit and no one else. It made the relationship between them that much more special. And if anything, enhanced Izzy’s undying love and appreciation for the elder woman currently finding comfort and solace above her torso. As morbidly gruesome as the canary’s words were prior to the occupying relaxation, Izzy couldn’t refrain from smiling. Only she could make something so vicious sounding, sound absolutely delightful. It was a gift, really…  “Actually….” Izzy sat up. She saw an opportunity with Calliope to quell the inner workings of torment and worry in her own mind. “I need you to do me a favor. It can wait until tomorrow but it’s deeply important and I’d like it to stay between us. Killian has so much going on that he doesn’t need to be bothered with this simple but, trivial matter. You know, I’d do it myself but he has me prepping the girls for their big show. The House caught on fire last night. An accident in one of the red rooms. We’re not really sure what happened.” That was a lie, – Isabelle knew exactly what took place because she was there and she was responsible but no one knew that besides Felix and Izzy didn’t want to compromise Calliope’s loyalties this early on. While, Izzy suspected Calliope favored her over Killian, she wasn’t sure it was the right time to bring her in on Isabelle’s forthcoming plans to overthrow the King. She needed more time before she ignited that divide amongst their people. And they still had their war with the serpents and the cartel to worry about.  Combing through her friend’s hair again, Izzy allowed room for pause, careful with how she worded the request to limit questions that she couldn’t yet answer. “There’s a girl. I need you to find her for me. Track her down, do whatever it takes. But I need her alive and unharmed. And once you find her, call me. I’ll meet you wherever you are.” The girl in question was the same one Killian chained to a bed and Isabelle let free. She couldn’t maim her the way that Killian wanted her to. And therefore, she let her go. But, Izzy needed to make sure she disappeared safely so that Killian would never find her and figure out that Isabelle disobeyed him. Because the consequences of such, would be deadly. 

There was a sense of peace in Caliope when she was being groomed by Isabelle. It was peaceful to have someone take care of you, and though Calli very rarely let anyone take care of her in such a way, Izzy got special treatment and got away with a lot more in the presence of her canary than most would have.

In Izzy’s tone there was a peaceful place, the same sort of noise Calliope heard when she was doing what she did best: eviscerating people. Her eyes would lull closed for a moment and all that mattered was the moment she was in; no pretense, no games, just her and her reality. Too often would she find that peace cracked by the world around them, the noise and slaughter of pepole without vision trying to do as she did.

“A single girl seems hardly a challenge.” Calliope murred from her position of being stroked like a cat -- or a bird, in some cases -- and nary did a question of why or even the thought of asking if Killian knew rise from her mind to her lips. Instead, she opened one pale eye to peer up towards her Queen with a lazy, almost satisfied look, “Is there anything I need to know in particular about her person? I would so hate to bring back the wrong girl.”

In Calliope there was the potential for true love and feelings, but all that had ever burbled up from her stomach was bile and a want to destroy. She tempered it for so long with games and masks that it had become second nature to act as if she were normal; she knew very well that she was nothing of the sort, but there were a handful of people with whom she elt comfortable.

If the Queen needed a girl found, regardless of what she needed done with her, the Canary would provide in the way that only she could. But now both eyes opened and she rolled to give Izzy her full attention, offering a small smile, “Whatever you wish, it will be done, no?”

When it came to the Reapers as a whole, – Calliope was Isabelle’s beloved favorite. Though perhaps, she was simply bias because of the way that Calli doted on her. In a world, where she felt alone (despite being surrounded by a group of people who envisioned her as their Queen), it was nice to have a friend. Which is what, Isabelle believed Calliope to be. Even though, she had her scruples with the blonde’s proclivities towards fatal brutality. Calli wasn’t against getting her hands dirty. Sometimes, Izzy felt as though she loved it. That the rush somehow completed her. Whether or not that was true, Izzy didn’t love her any less. Her company was much desired after a miserably long day. Tonight was no different when the trusted canary crawled into the Queen’s half empty bed.

Isabelle couldn’t sleep, too wrapped up in secrets so hard to keep. But, she did it for the sake of her survival and her safety. As well as that of her clandestine beau’s and their unborn child to be’s. Not that, anyone besides Isabelle and the father were aware of that minor, important detail. “Bad night?” Izzy presumed with a borderline, amused smile. If the blood on Calliope’s cheek were any indication, then the answer to that question was a resounding– yes. “Who was it this time?” Isabelle questioned her tiredly, as she rolled over onto one side. If Calli had asked her where her other half was, Izzy would confess that she didn’t know. The King and Queen, never slept together. Killian had always refused any opportunity to do so because of his nightmares. And naturally, if Felix were around, Izzy would have been sleeping soundly by his side. But, he was off playing serpent with their rival gang by the King’s orders himself. “By the way,” Isabelle looked to their beloved canary, taking in the sight of her appearance before reaching out to wipe the smudge of blood from her cheek with her manicured thumb, “There. No more blemishes.”

Their relationship was anything but conventional, but it worked for them, and in all of her maniacal glory, Calliope was accepted by Izzy and that made the Queen well above most other people. She had seen the demon that lay beneath her pale eyes and had still taken her in. They were beyond blood and it’s likely that even if other loyalties were to falter (to the city, to the reapers proper) her loyalty to Isabelle would remain.

With her cheek now cleaned, she moved to rest the cleaned flesh against the other woman’s torso. It felt comforting to be so close to warmth and creation after destroying something so righteously as she had. A soft sigh escaped her for a moment, careful not to mar her friend with her bloodied hand (though most of it had dried,) “I don’t recall his name. He had an attitude, and expectations... I had drugs, and a knife, and an hour to kill.”

The play on words was not lost on her but no mirth crossed her lips, instead letting her gaze move up to Isabelle and showing the first signs of recognition (and not the flightiness that usually hazed her eyes after she had both murdered someone and been high as a fucking kite,) as a smile crossed her lips, “You look worried and you seem tense... do I need to get my other hand bloody?”

Every time Calliope came down off of a particularly bad bender, she found her way into Izzy’s room. She always waited until the brunette was alone and always made sure that she was calm enough to not upset the Queen more than was necessary. There was a kinship there that was beyond what could be seen, like two caged birds who were soaring over their peers but unable to actually fly free; somehow happy within their captivity until certain moments of pure clarity in which everything crashed in around them.

She loved the violence, the bloodshed, and the constant dance of people in death’s guise that paraded the halls of any place the Reapers called home -- it’s why she chose that as a home rather than elsewhere in the city, after all -- but in the end it can take its toll even on the most twisted psyche, and she crawled her way to the side of Izzy’s bed to rest her head -- forehead sheen with sweat from her latest high and a smear of blood across one cheek and beneath each fingernail from gods know what -- and let out a slow, soft sigh, “Everything’s so fragile these days... egos, loyalty, people’s bodies... what the fuck is going on...?”

CALLIOPE MOORE ( CLAIRE HOLT / 28 / BISEXUAL / REAPER'S CANARY ) – is from LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA and is affiliated with the REAPERS  – SHE has been trying to stay alive to keep HER loved ones safe, but her OBSESSION often gets in the way of her AMBITION.