jinx, district one | finished [CB]

Everything I do, the way I wear my noose
Like a necklace
I wanna make 'em scared, like I could be anywhere
Like I'm wreck-less

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Red feathers, black talons
— doves are not holy creatures.

Not in her world, at least. She's never known anything good; there's nothing pure. Only gunpowder and poison and knives strapped to her thigh. Death is her profession. She deals in the dark desires of mankind. All she needs is a name, some small reason for the hit, and something shiny to catch her raven-eyed stare. Her blades can grant any wish, but never her own. In her girlhood, when she first found a home in the institution known as Meadowfield, she'd skin her knees praying for a family. A real one. And then the blood-thirst stole her innocence and her inhibitions.

Loyal to a fault, a soldier unlike any other, her past dreams have since been buried. She's come to find the thrill in the hand that she's been dealt; a royal flush of a crimson court. And she's the jester, the one wildcard in the deck, all sharp smiles and twisted laughter. Destruction is a game to her, little more than a hobby. She's not an orphan, not some sad girl — only an assassin. It's all she knows, the art of daggers across throats and bullets in chests. Her identity had been shaped for her, but she signed the contract and gave up control. No one guided her hand.

And it is not in the nature of
a dove to question its place;
only to guide lost souls.

Call her the reaper.

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I lost my mind
I don't mind
Where's my mind?
Where's my mind?

song: bellyache