mischief knows no boundaries // semper

[Python]

It was after an uneventful Saturday morning of counting and collecting dust particles when Malforce arrived at the revelation that boredom might just be her greatest rival. The confines of her domain were shaded with blacks and greys from shadows and layers of neglect with the occasional insect skittering along the walls, and even though the “decorations” suited her wannabe-evil, daydreaming personality there was very little to do in her makeshift lair. She could scrawl shapes into a canvas of dust, ramble in her journal with a pencil that was running low on lead or spend her hours extracting misery from her creepy sidekick, Arachne, who was off probably playing with spiders and getting herself poisoned or something. Everyday Today it was all about Malforce in her attic, and in her dark haven emptiness crept into her veins until her core was too hollow to bear. Having already ranted about her lack of activity in her journal, she traced images on the wall and blinked dust out of her eyes. Then, she couldn’t take it anymore.

With a melodramatic groan of annoyance she stamped her foot (disturbing the creepy crawlies between wooden boards), grabbed her onyx cloak and descended from the attic with her face scrunched into a scowl. The Keeni house was abundant with colliding personalities and oddities, but none of them interested her today. To an outsider they were an intriguing pack of freaks whose reputation for mental deficits, crime and insanity had skyrocketed into popularity after the pyro twins were Reaped and killed in the Games. To Malforce, though, they were just her deranged cousins, and what was unusual to the average citizen was a daily occurrence for her. There were a few exceptions here and there; Bear, for instance, was actually admirable and fun. Her interest in everything villainous drew her to him like a timid magnet. The giant older cousin was notorious for his gang, his attitude, his bad habits and quite a few crimes, some of which were unspeakable yet known to most members of the family. They just chose not to discuss it.

Bear wasn’t the only one, of course, but he was the biggest. Back when the pyromaniacs were actually alive she would often follow their mischief in hopes of a show, because they were second in line behind Bear when it came to causing ruckus and pissing people off – especially the neighbors. Now that they were six feet under, though, Bear was the only one worthy of her attention. Arachne could be productively villainous in her own unique, creepy way by unleashing poisonous spiders on everybody, but that was insignificant compared to Bear’s feats. She would rather bask in worthy company, not in the presence of half-assed henchmen who could hardly keep with Malforce’s standards.

There was no sign of anything invigorating in the Keeni household at the moment, so Malforce wrapped herself in her cloak – hood pulled up and all – and wandered out of the house toward the district square, where activity was always buzzing incessantly as if the human minds of district six could never rest. In the square itself she found herself walking toward the shops with empty pockets, staring through windows and sniffing delicious treats that she knew she could never afford. That was when she spotted a little girl pushing her way out of a candy store with a fresh, unwrapped chocolate bar in hand. The glint in Malforce's grey eyes would be warning enough to stay away if the girl were actually paying attention, but since she wasn’t she was vulnerable to the blonde’s outstretched foot and fell victim to its sinister intent. She plummeted to the concrete, and her precious chocolate bar landed at Malforce’s feet. ”Thanks,” the bully villain said with a nasty smirk, claiming her new prize and walking away before the girl could draw any more attention to herself with her cries. She was too small and cowardly to fight back, Malforce thought. For that reason she didn’t deserve the luxury of the treat.

As she licked her stained fingertips clean of melted chocolate delight she tossed the empty wrapper over her shoulder and searched for another target of interest to satiate her craving for excitement. An all too familiar tower entered her line of vision, then – it was the mastermind himself, cousin Bear, doing Ripred knows what. She instantly smiled and bounded over to him, removing the hood of her cloak to greet him. ”Hey, Bear! What are you doing? Can I come with you?”

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[semper]

bear Keeni

The air is colder than the icy glare Vicky gives me whenever I even think about slipping jerky to Teddy. But, today, I’ve got a hooded sweatshirt and a thick jacket over that, and underneath it all is a lovely flannel long-sleeved shirt. I even have two pairs of socks on (I won’t even mention how long it took me to decide to not wear two pairs of pants) to keep my toes from freezing off. The knife that I keep situated right at my hip is still a bit cold from setting out overnight, and every time the blade comes in contact with my skin it sends chills down my leg and I unintentionally swerve, doing some weird hip jerking to the side as if it’ll make the cold go away. People don’t take very well to me just waving the blade around so I have to keep it hidden.

I would have brought Teddy with me just to haul him around and be with him but Vicky told me he’d catch a cold. She said something about “if you’re wearing two jackets and are still cold then what’ll it feel like for him” so I finally agreed to let him stay home. Someday, though, I really want to just take him around; we don’t even have to do anything, I just want to be with him, show him around Six even though he won’t remember it. (And maybe I also want to get the point across to people that if you mess with this certain toddler then I’ll eviscerate you and devour your entrails in front of your family. “Oh no, that’s a Keeni kid, don’t mess with it!”) And, well… perhaps it all just boils down to the fact that I want to be there for him, unlike how my dad was for me. My understanding is that my dad skipped out of town right after he and my mother had sex, so he probably doesn’t even know I’m alive or that he’s a father. Not that I care much anyway. I learned how to fend for myself and take what I can get; I’ve learned to strike fear into people and – with a bit of arm twisting – get them to bend to my will; and, frankly, I’m not quite the kid a father would be proud of. I’m true to the Keeni name, that much is true, but in societal standards I’m a disappointment.

I’m not going to uphold that label as Teddy grows up. The only time I ever left his side was when I was arrested, so other than that I think I’ve been doing pretty well. Vicky’s been the one to take care of him mostly but I’m always willing to chip in where I can, even changing those diapers that always make me end up saying ”Well shit.” (Really, who would have known a baby could produce that much?) I’ve been barfed and pissed on by him, but at the end of the day I’ll still be one of the first people to rock him gently to sleep and kiss his forehead.

(Don’t tell Vicky but I’m trying to get his first word to be “fuck.”)

And so as always I do need to blow off steam. I can’t go from a homicidal cannibal to gracious, loving dad overnight so I need to have time to work the kinks out. Every now and then I do lash out, usually unintentionally, and so I’ll be sent out to “get my shit together.”

I snap at people that pass by me in the district square, purely for the fun of it. Most of the insults are just over their choice of clothing (at least I am color coordinated) or their hairstyle if they’re not wearing a hat, little things like that. The people that retaliate are the ones that really get my blood flowing and I engage in an argument that just tickles me to death. I get about two people flustered enough that they just stomp away, leaving me cackling in their wake; I’m pretty sure this last person was on the verge of smacking me senseless when I hear a familiar voice calling out my name. I forget about the walking fashion disaster and turn around, seeing none other than Malforce frolicking over like some rabbit. ”What the fuck is this?” I reach over and tug at the point on the back of her hood. ”What are you, some wannabe grim reaper?” I’m teasing, of course, but the cloak and hood do in fact lead me to believe she’s trying too hard to gain something. ”I’m not really doing anything but sure, I guess. What do you wanna do?”

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[Python]

A villain was nothing without her fashion sense. Black, silver, navy, crimson and lavender were personal favorites of hers, but black was the universal pigment of evil. It colored the jagged rocks of Hell and painted the skies in the evening when mischief was always afoot, so whenever Malforce was to make an appearance outside of her lair she adorned herself in the colors of malevolence, hoping to make an impression to those who may have considered straying in her path for whatever reason (usually it had to do with her surname. The Keenis were freaks, and freaks attracted bullies. But it’s not like Malforce couldn’t return the favor with twice the vigor). She wanted to be a shadow in the night and a menace during the day, so when Bear cursed at her about the hood as if it were some sort of costume rather than her normal attire, she was slightly offended.

He was teasing, of course, so she couldn’t maintain a scowl for long. A wannabe grim reaper, huh? That was new. Flattering, now that she thought about – her, a queen of death wielding a scythe and deciding the fate of each human being? With that amount of power, she would be the greatest villain of all! She could grant her family immortality (and perhaps have prevented the deaths of her poor, doomed cousins, because she was starting to miss their flaming shenanigans) and control every soul in the Hunger Games. Or maybe kill the people who hosted it in the first place.

That was all an exaggerated fantasy, though – merely her imagination running wild again. If the grim reaper was real, it would never be Malforce. The real one was probably off somewhere sawing through the necks of innocents, and as long as it wasn’t her own scrawny neck she didn’t care. ”No,” she huffed, making a show of readjusting her cloak and smoothing out the wrinkles. ”It’s a cloak, and it makes me look intimidating.” She stuck her nose in the air like an arrogant brat, and she might as well have been. She was used to thinking highly of herself as a nonconforming delinquent of society, standing on a golden pedestal above averages citizens and petty “heroes” (like the horrible people that killed her parents! What right did they have?). She knew she couldn’t surpass bear, though, not yet. She was still young, only fourteen, and there was much to learn.

”I’m not really doing anything but sure, I guess. What do you wanna do?”

She flashed him a condescending glare, as if it were the most obvious thing ever. What else was there to do, besides evil? ”I want to mess with people!” She exclaimed, and she would admit it wasn’t the greatest way to describe what she wanted, but she had never been the most eloquent speaker to begin with. She still needed to work on that, since she knew most villains were very elegant in their speech. Unless they were Bear, who just spewed curses every five seconds. Maybe she should try that, too? ”I don’t want to steal any damn candy though,” Damn! That was a good one, right? ”I already did that. It was fun.” Fun and rewarding.

She scanned the perimeter as the gears between her ears began to turn. What could they do in a place like this? There were only so many resources to use. Insulting was always golden, and that happened to be Bear’s forte by the looks of it. But that could get very old very quickly. They needed something better, something more creative than just spitting and hissing at people who would either just cry or lose their temper. Stealing anything was out of the question, since she had already done so to satisfy her sweet tooth. She pursed her lips into a thoughtful frown and stared up at her towering cousin. ”Could we throw rocks at people?” Perfect.

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[semper]

bear Keeni

Honestly, I’d be a liar if I said I knew how Malforce was related to me. The Keeni family’s boundaries are so fuzzy and hazy that I really have no idea where our blood stops and someone else’s begins. Even the people like Kitty Calico, who just wander in, how the hell are we supposed to know if they’re related to us or not? Half of us don’t know who one of our parents is so it’d be rude as hell to deny anyone admittance into the house on that basis. Better to just let everyone in, Malforce and Kitty Calico included. There’s plenty of space at the dinner table anyway (so long as everyone cleans their fucking dirty paws before even thinking about touching any food).

It amuses me how quickly she retorts and tries justifying herself and her choice of attire. ”It makes me look intimidating.” I’m not sure whether to humor her about her cloak or not, so I just grin. ”Sure you do.” She’s not quite the embodiment of the term “intimidating” but I’ll hand it to her that she’s got determination. Those light eyes, though – when she glares it’s like daggers disemboweling you. When she gets older I’ll bet my left lung and both kidneys that she’ll be able to strike fear into even grown men. That’ll just be the day, won’t it?

She explains how she wants to mess with people and I don’t shoot the idea down. It’s fun to screw about with puny ones, verbally assaulting and getting them all so riled up they either fight back or stomp away. She mentions that she’s already stolen candy and I put on a very distressed façade. ”And you didn’t get any candy for me? Well fuck you too, Mally.” Joking, again, but this time there’s a hint of truth to it. I may love the taste of pulpy human flesh, but I’ve got a sweet tooth that’s damn near ready to rot out from all the sugar. My arms cross over my chest in a huff, adding emphasis to my mock agitation.

Her suggestion, though, makes my expression fade. Throw rocks at people. It was that that got me locked behind bars. (I did it for good reason! No one can expect me to remain still and quiet when Gypsy fucking betrayed us!) I threw stones every which way, nailing anyone and everyone that stood between me and that big screen that showed every agonizing second of those awful moments. I don’t think people took too kindly to me screeching swears, either. I sigh, though, considering it and look around. There’s not a Peacekeeper in sight but I swear as soon as the first stone flies there’ll be a swarm here. A grumble sounds from my throat but I don’t want to say no to Mally; throwing rocks at people is great fun and if anyone tries to fight us over it I’ll get to swing fists and bring out the knife, so we’ll be fine. Even more drama to top it all off.

”Fine, okay,” I say, lowering my arms. ”But don’t throw any at Peacekeepers, and if the Kepers show up I want you to get the hell outta here, alright? Don’t need another one of us getting put behind bars.”

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[Python]

Stormy grey eyes peered hopefully at the taller figure, unblinking like an owl’s gaze until the crisp air was too overwhelming for her dried eyes to bear. When she blinked, she did so with batting eyelashes and lips curling into a ghost of a pleading smile. She knew Bear had been teasing about the chocolate; she couldn’t have known he would be out wandering the streets anywhere near her usual hang-out spots, and if he were legitimately angry about her actions she would know it. He was never subtle about his temper; if his pulse were to quicken, Hell would rise with it and incinerate anything in its path. Bear didn’t seem like the sweet tooth type anyway – those who knew the rumors would agree with her. His tongue preferred something pinker, something fleshy. Malforce gave a light shudder at the thought. Even she would not travel down a path so forbidden.

When Bear spoke up, she tucked her arms beneath her cloak to capture more warmth and clutch it to her scrawny body as if it were treasure. Winter was bitter and uncomfortable, as always, but it was a season ripe for crime and villainous mischief. That was why Malforce was subjecting herself to this torment instead of curling in front of a warm flame; there was no better time than now to prey on the innocents. It was a shame Bear didn’t appear as thrilled about it as she was. Was it the gloomy weather dragging his shreds of soul to the frosted grounds? Or was he just so used to misbehaving that her idea seemed almost childish? She didn’t want to sound silly for suggesting something she thought would be invigorating. Fortunately, if her cheeks flushed of embarrassment she could blame it on the nasty weather.

Listening to Bear mentioning Peacekeepers was a curious thing – until it summoned sour memories from the dark pits of her subconscious. She had nearly forgotten that incident two years ago, when Bear had been snatched from home and shoved behind bars at the detention center for misconduct in the District Square. She had been there too, of course, since their television screen had been shattered earlier that week. Bear’s tantrums had risen to a dangerous peak, and the Peacekeepers had deemed his outburst a public disturbance before arresting him on the spot for cursing, shouting and throwing rocks at bystanders. All because of what had been displaying on-screen: the final moments of the 63rd Annual Hunger Games, where the infamous Keeni twins had both forfeited their lives. It wasn’t their deaths that had disturbed the district; it was the betrayal. The ultimate act of evil, in Malforce’s eyes. She still wasn’t sure whether to consider it admirable, or cowardly, because these were her cousins, not some stupid strangers flailing around on television.

Despite what Bear endured, though, the threat of Peacekeepers would not frighten her away from what she wanted. ”I’m not scared of a few Peacekeepers. I can easily hide from them.” she boasted, evidently confident in her blending abilities. Now that the whole Peacekeeper issue was solved and out of the way, it was time to leap into action. But first they needed the supplies and the location. She turned on her heels and scanned the area for a decent perch. ”Where should we throw them from?” she asked, shivering from the cold. If the blood-warming fun didn’t start soon, she might just freeze solid into a popsicle.

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