Their collected crews were still inland - some staying, some leaving. Four gangs trying to figure out what the landscape of Kutsukku was moving forward. The former bosses agreed to stay clear while discussions went on. They meant what they said - they no longer held any interest in the island and were content to stay out of negotiations. The only sway they had was if they could come together to accomplish something - the gangs could to.
The bosses came together to tear down the last hierarchy. It was the survivors who would need to build a new one.
Until then, the four had moved into their bare bones ship. Work still needed to be done before they were to set sail, modifying the ship to their needs - waiting for custom sails to be made - getting quality of life items and furniture and stocking with supplies. Figuring out how four strangers were going to run a ship together.
Heat & Wire had been butting heads with each other for years and their rivalry had turned to a strange begrudging respect long ago. And Kidd and Killer had known each other almost all of Kidd's life before their own parting of ways a few years back. Now it was just a matter of figuring out how they all fit together.
They'd spend the day mapping out where they wanted things lain out on their new Home. They spend the night camped out on the wood floors of what was meant to be captain quarters. The following days would be more planning and logistics but for the night they snacked and smoked and drank and eventually watched as Kidd - high off his ass - started trying to divide up the room into some grand future workshop that lived in his head.
Finally at one point, Heat pointed out that he'd left himself no room for his own personal space, asking where he planned on sleeping. Kidd - straight faced - just stated, "I'm not gonna sleep - it's fine." Which prompted Killer to get up and coerce Kidd into siting back down with them. He was passed out and drooling on Killer within 20 minutes.
Which lead to Wire, delicate eyebrow raised provocatively, to suggest maybe their new captain planned on sleeping with Killer every night.
"It's not like that - never was," Killer deflected, trying to hide the soft smile the thought left him by taking a drink from the mug of beer that had been making it's way around the circle of three and was being handed off from Heat to him.
They'd all end up passed out in a pile that night, the most relaxed and unguarded they'd ever been in their adult lives. Which was ironic considering they'd essentially put a 17 year old in charge.
When the sun finally peaked through the unshaded windows the next morning, Wire spent a long time staring up at the wood planked ceiling, warm under a pile of sleeping colleagues. Eventually, Boss Heat's upside down head appeared in his field of vision, amused smile beaming down at him. Wire wasn't sure how he felt about the rough stitch work on the man's face, but it certainly gave him a memorable smile, and the smell of coffee wafting from the cup he was teasing Wire with was enough to warm anyone's heart.
Captain and Boss Killer were still asleep, and one of them left a drool spot on Wire's arm that he discovered once he'd wiggled out from under them. He picked at it irritatingly, made to comment on it to Heat to find the man with a strange soft look on his face. Wire followed his gaze back to the sleeping pair.
They were completely wrapped up in each other, Boss Killer's face buried into Captain's collar, tucked up under his head as in turn Kidd's hands were buried somewhere under wild blond hair. One of Killer's hands was gripping the front of Kidd's shirt, the other wrapped behind him with his fingers brushing the small of Captain's back where his shirt had ridden up. Their legs were a tangle of limbs, twisted into each other.
"Do you think they know?" Heat asked.
Wire reflected on the last few days, "No... Not yet. But I don't think it's gonna take 'em too long to figure it out."
October 02. Back to Back
"Well, this a fine mess you've gotten us into."
Killer groaned, head pounding as the world slowly came back into focus. Kidd's bitching was like a nail repeatedly being hammered into his skull. Killer made to shove him away only to stop short when his arm refused to move. "wha...?"
Kidd stopped his squirming, listening quietly, "Kil? Are you back?"
Killer blinked rabidly but his vision remained hazy.
"Killer?"
"Kidd? Whazzit gon' on? Why can'i move?"
He could at least feel Kidd moving behind him now, the boy's voice gentle in way that made Killer nervous. "We got ambushed, remember? Breaking in to the warehouses on the west side? I think you took a bat to the head..."
Killer did not remember any of that, but he trusted Kidd wouldn't bullshit him on something like this. There was a weight against the back of his head, the rough band of Kidd's goggles catching his hair as Kidd leaned back against him for a moment with a sigh.
"It's not an ambush if you break into our place." a voice drawled, and Kidd twisted around to try and see who was talking. Killer's head fell back against his shoulder once Kidd's head wasn't there to support it, and Kidd glared at the man strolling out of the shadows, a little pathetic entourage flanking him.
The small time gang boss lorded over them, looking less pleased at captured the two of them and more just annoyed that his day had been interrupted by a couple snot nose punk kids. He grabbed a fist full of Killer's hair and jerked the teen upright, but looked to Kidd when the younger boy snarled at him for his audacity in touching his partner.
That made the man laugh, sneering down at the red head as he let go of Killer's head roughly, chucking darkly as the sounds of their skulls bouncing off each other thudded dimly in the damp warehouse air. Killer blinked the stars from the corners of his vision as Kidd started yelling and cursing the man in outrage.
Killer then became aware of Kidd's small hands pressing into his palms, and he held them back only to notice the rough ends of rope being passed to him ... the ends of the rope that had been used on his own wrists. Killer tested the restraints; sure enough they'd only just been tied down once at the wrists.
Amateurs. It was almost embarrassing to have been captured like so, but at least Kidd had seen to that. Now Killer just bid his time.
His head was still swimming, the voices sounding more like what he figured bagpipes must sound like underwater, but he recognized Kidd's voice, antagonistic as always. Killer couldn't help but smirk. One of Kidd's best qualities, he mussed. The ability to annoy anyone stupid given enough time.
The dark outline of this little group's head boss got larger, moving to tower over them once more. Killer hung his head, letting himself go lax and unassuming, the unknotted rope sliding away. He pressed his hand one last time to Kidd's for good luck.
And then he was lurching forward, fists flying, launching himself at the man. There was yelling, and the man had Killer's fists in his own, grinning like he thought he'd won something. Killer only grinned back, feral look to him that wiped the man's grin away in a flash as the man realized he may have made a mistake.
Then Killer went for the jugular. Literally; teeth clamping around the man's unguarded throat. The man was screaming, his minors were screaming, Kidd was free and using his chair as a club to keep them off Killer's back.
Killer was snarling around a mouthful of blood, every attempt to dislodge him just doing more damage. The gang boss finally let go of his left hand, punching wildly at Killer's side and head, grasping at his hair again. Killer breathed heavily though his nose, refusing to stop biting and begun hitting back with short jabs aiming for the kidneys.
Behind him, Kidd eyed the last few stragglers warily as they stuck well out of his swinging range. He wasn't willing to turn his back on them just yet, no matter how much he wanted to check on Killer. The little gang boss had stopped screaming, but they was still grappling behind him. And then there was a heavy wet thump of a body falling.
"Killer?"
The teen staggered over to stand next to him, panting wetly. Kidd glanced over to see Killer drenched in blood, wiping it haphazardly from his mouth. The red was splattered across his cheeks, his arms, running down his throat and his shirt. Dripping from his bangs and chin.
With a grin, Kidd turned back to the lackeys who were looking between the two boys and weighing their options. Kidd was almost sad to see them turn tail and flee. He tossed the chair aside with a clattering echoing thunk, looking sheepishly back at Killer when the noise had him wincing.
"How's your head?" Kidd asked, picking at the wet frayed edges of Killer's shirt. It was probably ruined now. Kidd wasn't sure they'd be getting all that blood out. Though, it was pretty gnarly looking - maybe they should keep it just for that. Killer did look great in red, Kidd thought idly as the teen answered his question with a shrug.
Kidd -pulled- Killer's discharged chair back over with a bit of concentration. He still wasn't great about using his devil fruit effectively in a fight, the chances of hitting himself or Killer with stray scraps not worth the risk. But this part was easy enough, even if the chair slide a bit rougher than Kidd meant into the back of Killer's knees, effectively sweeping him off his feet. Still, the results where what Kidd wanted, and Killer slumped down in the seat with a sigh.
Kidd would wander off to pillage the newly abandoned warehouse while Killer took a moment and
October 03. Coat
"It's itchy"
"It's warm. Shut up"
"It's ugly."
"So are you. Now shut up."
"It smells funny."
Killer snarled at him, "Then fucking freeze for all I care!" He jerked away, crawling out of the cubby they'd nested down in for the night before stalking off, leaving Kidd shivering in the ugly monstrosity that he was pretty sure had been thrown out for good reason. He knew beggars couldn't be choosers, but this thing couldn't possibly be a real coat. He was pretty sure it was some animal's actual skin and the body had just rotted out and left it's fur behind.
Kidd sulked in the dark hole, nose wrinkled at the weird wet small of the coat. It was far smaller than their last place, but Killer had insisted they move once the weather changed. And then he'd packed it with all the cloth and paper trash he could find until the two of them barely fit anymore.
A month ago it had been unbearable. Last week it had been a claustrophobic nightmare. Half an hour ago, it had been a warm safe - if not smell, itchy - place to sleep. Kidd pulled the coat to his chin, watching the open space warily. Eventually, everyone left and never came back again. He wondered if this would be the time Killer didn't come back.
Little frozen flakes of snow were starting to cling to the cold metal scrap at the mouth of their shelter. Still no Killer.
Well good riddance. At least this time Kidd would know why. He'd leave his ungrateful ass behind too if he could.
Still.. Still, there was a hurt that Kidd didn't like at all, a painful knot in his chest that just got worse when he sniffed back the hot angry tears that threatened. He threaded his arms through the coat sleeves and hugged himself just so he didn't feel so alone, staring at the dark shadows of insulation.
"Killer?" he wasn't begging. He didn't Beg, not anymore. But..
"What?" came a dull reply and Kidd scrambled out from the shelter, looking frantically around to see Killer sitting in the snow above the crawl-way, knees pulled up to his chin, hunched in on himself.
He looked as miserable as Kidd felt.
Kidd looked away, scrubbing at his own face, before sniffing disdainfully. "What are you doing, sitting out here like that. You stupid or something?"
Killer just shrugged, talking to his knees, "The way you where bitching, didn't seem like you wanted me around right now." His hair had curled a bit when it was still warm enough to melt the snow, and now the flakes clung to the wild edges like a white halo, making it look twice as thick as normal.
It was going to be a whole ordeal to try and get it dried now. Kidd scowled. "So you are stupid."
Killer chuckled, his stupid little fwa fwa laugh that had Kidd rolling his eyes.
"Would you get back inside before you turn into Am Fear Liath Mòror or some shit?"
"I dunno. Being that tall might be cool."
"Tch. Good luck with that," Kidd snickered, pulling the coat up higher and staring at Killer until the teen got the hint and got up. It took some negotiating, but they crawled back inside, Kidd frowning at the wet cold chill that had ensnared Killer and followed them into the dark.
Killer's face was pale, a hint of blue at his lips and fingers, and Kidd did not like at all how Killer refused to nestle back under the coat with him, like he was suddenly afraid to touch him. Which was really stupid because they'd never had that problem before.
"You can stop being dumb now," Kidd told him matter-of-fact, kicking at him a little to get Killer to stop trying to cuddle him from outside the coat. "Seriously, you're practically a Grayman already, get under the coat."
It was hard to see Killer's expression like this, but Kidd could picture it in his mind, that pout he did where his nose scrunched up and the lips went flat and he looked completely unamused with what ever shit Kidd was caught up in at the time. Only this time, it was trying to get Killer warmed back up and Kidd was starting to worry just a little bit.
"I'm... You'll get cold."
"And I'll warm you back up - world balances itself out. Now come one, we don't have all night!"
One day... one day he'd be Boss, Kidd decided, he'd be Boss and he'd have all the nicest clothes and him and Killer would have those pretty fur coats that didn't smell funny. They'd have clothes that wouldn't itch and and would belong to just them. Killer wouldn't have to dig clothes out of the trash anymore or beg Victoria for old things that she'd outgrown. And he wouldn't have to worry about making them last or trying to patch them up for Kidd to wear next. No more wrappings around shoes because the soles came off, or Killer trying to fold old newspapers up in a way to replace them entirely when Kidd accidentally lost one in the Heaps running away from the dogs.
Kidd looked away from the piling snow, burying his face in the crook of Killer's neck, coat pulled up high to fight the chill.
One day.
October 04. Mask
"What the fuck, Kidd?" Killer snarls, the mask only amplifying the angry tone as he stand in the doorway, Kidd looking back at him through the bathroom mirror, before turning to his partner sheepishly.
Unfortunately for Kidd, Killer is pissed, grabbing the concealer from him in one hand and the small bag of make up in the other, and Kidd raises his own in surrender. He's not completely sure of his misstep but he can count the times Killer's gotten truly upset with him on one hand and even without seeing his face, Kidd knows this is about to make the list if he doesn't fix it quickly.
"I ran out of lipstick so I was just gonna borrow some from you -"
"That doesn't fucking look like lipstick, Kidd!"
"air son Muir {air son Dhe | for the sea | for god's sake}..."
"This shit is expensive, Kidd! you can't just waste is on a whim playing... I don't know! What ever the hell this is!"
"Expensive? Killer - we're as rich as gods right now - I'll buy you more!"
Killer growls little, and Kidd aborts his half-hearted attempt to reassure Killer with a hand to the shoulder. He redirects, scratching the back of his neck like that had been the plan the whole time.
"Killer - I'll buy you more. I'm sorry. Okay." Kidd smart enough to know they're fighting about something else right now - but damn him if he knows what. "Tha mi duilich. I shouldn't have touched your make up without asking."
Killer is still hunkered a little defensively over his bag, tucked behind arms crossed low over his gut.
"It's... I.." Kidd frowns, usually he just says what he means, but right now he's not sure /how/ to iterate it. "You've never cared about me using your stuff before. Half the time, I'm not actually sure which clothes are mine and which are yours to begin with."
"Mine are the ones that still have sleeves and buttons." Killer muttered. He's annoyed, but the strange mood that had him has loosened its hold.
Kidd makes a gesture of 'well there you go' before resting his hands on the bathroom counter behind him. He gives Killer his best puppy eyes, face molded into the perfect, 'I'm baby' look and he bats his eyes innocently. Killer's mask should prevent him from making sure the look sticks, but he's had enough practice that he knows immediately when Killer locks eyes with him, and he deepens the pouts just a little more.
"You look stupid." Killer says finally, and Kidd smirks - "I was under the impression that was my default?"
The tension eases out of Killer with a sharp bark of laughter, the rare kind where he tosses his head back and cackles. The effect is lost a little with his helmet, but it's a laugh reserved just for Kidd and he takes the win for what it is.
"You can't..." Killer pauses, chuckling, "You can't wear it like foundation - it's just a concealer. You put it across your whole face like that and you just look flat and weird. It's just for spot treatment. Like a zit or under eye bags and shit."
Kidd tried to school his face, but he knew it didn't catch the sulk in time, because Killer cocked his head the way his did when zeroing in on a weakness on the battlefield.
"Also - my skin tone is the completely wrong colour for you." He said, setting the bag down and Kidd could just feel his gaze flickering over Kidd's face.
Demanding an answer.
"My freckles make me look like a fucking kid. People still don't take me serious."
"But I thought you were Kidd?"
Kidd glared, but Killer was long immune to the look. Killer tilted Kidd chin up, 'tutting' over the thick layer of cream. Well - it had done that job at least. Not a hint of freckle was visible across his forehead, nose or cheeks. But it had also covered the natural differences in Kidd's skin tone, flattening to one solid shade. "I dunno shit about contouring, but if we can figure that out, I bet you won't look so stupid."
Kidd just grinned, "I dunno. Kinda digging the look. It's certainly striking."
"It's something." The problem was Killer only vaguely knew that contouring was a thing, not how it worked. But what he did know...
"Hold on a sec." Killer dug through his bag, and Kidd lounged against the countertop, watching him rummage. Killer didn't have the largest supply, and everything was pretty well used. Kidd had made a mental note when he'd been looking through it earlier of what stuff was almost gone. Those were clearly Killer's favorite, and Kidd had stayed clear. But he also knew what to look for in the next port they docked at as well.
Killer brought out a a few items, lipsticks mostly, to set on the counter out of his way but the prize in hand was a little black marker with a delicate brush at the end. Killer fiddled with it for a moment, before gesturing for Kidd to lean closer. "Look Up" was all he said.
Kidd sat still, looking up at the ceiling as Killer carefully painted black lines around his lashes, pulling the brush across the delicate skin around his eyes.
After Killer finished his first eye, he stepped back, turning Kidd's face this way and that, before gesturing to the mirror. Kidd judged his reflection, the sharp lines around his eyes against the flat of his face a bold look, and he grinned.
"Yeah?" Killer asked.
"Yeah, I like it. Do the other one?"
"Sure," and Kidd turned back to Killer. This time, he stared back, catching the flash of blue though the mask; It was hard to miss this close. Killer paused, just a moment, before Kidd caught the twinkle, knowing Killer was smiling back. Then he was looking at the brush strokes, carefully painting on the beginnings of Kidd's own mask.
October 05. Laugh
"Why aren't you laughing anymore? Here I was under the impression you thought our vice captain was funny?"
Wire was already a towering man, and his face was perpetually set to an expression of not giving any fucks. He was still wearing that bored look as he knelt down next to one of the horrified men that was pinned down by a trident prong through his leg.
Out of the four of them, Wire was never really sure why Boss Killer seemed to generate the most whispers and mockery when they went out on the town. He was almost normal looking compared to the rest of them, even if he was a little on the shorter side, and personally Wire thought he was still too skinny. And yet...
He hadn't even taken his helmet off this time when the captain of the man now pinned under his weapon had made a wisecrack about it when the barmaid had arrived with the first round of their food. Captain Kidd had heard it, teeth grinding when he turned to glare, but remained where he was when the woman made a frightened sound next to him and nearly dropped one of the plates. Heat had caught it, no harm no foul, and she'd run back out of miasma of brewing tension that was filling the tavern.
However, Boss Killer just pushed his untouched plate of fettuccine at Captain with a shrug, muttering something about not being hungry. Which was not necessarily unusual, as both he and Heat had noticed that Boss Killer tended to order extra food specifically for Captain in some weird dynamic they had where Heat was pretty sure he was trying to trick Captain to a more balanced diet. In general, the Kidd Pirates had all dealt with some from of food scarcity and still had the habits of never wasting it, even if it wasn't something they particularly liked to eat. Captain Kidd was still the best reflection of that - he would eat anything put in front of him, even if he bitched about it the whole time.
"Don't know why them even bother bringing a plate out for the toy solider," one of the men at the other table had remarked, followed by ruckus laughter.
Captain had nearly snapped the fork in half, but Boss Killer calmly rose first. The two of them shared a look, before Captain relaxed, sitting back in his chair. He calmly looked around the room, and caught the barmaid's attention. She looked like coming over to see what he wanted was the last thing she wanted to do; and instead of beckoning her over, Captain Kidd held up a hand to shoo her away.
She grabbed the bartender and the two of them disappeared to the back of the house with the cook.
Smart woman.
One of the men laughing had gotten up to make like he was stiffly marching in place, and Wire admitted, he did look like those little trinkets some of the winter islands like to sell than was dressed up like a rank and file solider. He didn't really understand why they thought that a good insult for Boss Killer unless they though his mask implied he was some kind of animatron.
Boss Killer strode over, not pausing for a second in his forced casual saunter, and grabbed the back of the man's head and slamming it down amongst the half empty plates of his laughing crew.
The whole tavern was so quiet a pin drop could be heard. Boss Killer said absolutely nothing in his own defense, turning pointedly to turn to the crew's supposed captain. The man's face was twisted red and furious, spurting as he failed to form words.
"Laugh," Captain demanded, "My toy solider did something funny, after all."
Heat chuckled at least, stretching out his neck and shoulders, preparing for the fight to come. Wire causally finished eating the last bit of his diner.
Boss Killer let go of the twitching man on the table, standing up straight over the table's leader, daring him to retaliate.
The man took the bait, pulling a pistol from his hip; Captain narrowed his eyes, but Boss Killer was faster, twisting around so the bullet passed harmlessly by and smashing his knee into the man's temple.
And the fight was truly on, Captain flinging the metal silverware out as impromptu shrapnel as he casually got up to cover Boss Killer's back, Heat bouncing up on their own table to kick a plate across the way and into one of them who'd been laughing's face. Wire grabbed his trident from where it had been resting out of the way by the wall, and used the pole to bat one of the angry men away with a blow to the face.
And then the tavern devolved into blood-lust and chaos. Apparently it wasn't just the two of their groups that had beef with each other and fights between other groups started immediately.
So long as they didn't get involved with theirs, Wire thought dryly.
And with little overlap they had not. Those who'd laughed at the mocking found themselves being turned around and shoved right back at the foursome when they tried to use the havoc to sneak away; The Kidd pirates had clearly called dibs and no one was too interested in meddling in that.
It was a great brawl. But, like all fights, a man's stamina only lasted so long, and the price of laughter had finally been paid.
Now the fighting had continued out into the streets, but that was someone else's business at the point, The Kidd Pirates having proven their point and dealt with those who'd harassed them; the rest was all the other parties, and Wire hoped they enjoyed their night as sounds of the brawl faded into the night.
The hall was in shambles, a massacre with abandoned corpses scattered about, and Captain Kidd frowned, dropping a few more gold coins on the abandoned bar counter as he helped himself to another bottle or four of whiskey, plopping them down at their original table and kicking his chair back upright.
Wire absently-mindedly tapped his weapon on the ground to try knock some of the blood and gore off the ends, before retaking his seat, Heat back at his side, legs crossed under him, looking content.
However, once Boss Killer sat back down, Captain dropped a bare palm to the top of the helmet. The two said nothing for a moment, Heat coughing as he found anything else to look at for the time being, and Wire glanced around to confirm they were really alone.
"fwa.. Fine." Boss Killer chuckled, "Whatever Captain wants," and let Captain pull the metal off, ducking his head down and messing with his bangs once it was free, trying to tame them back from the sweaty mess they'd clumped up in.
"Eat your fucking pasta." Captain said as he set the helmet on the table, fishing through the assorted tableware until he found a fork that was probably clean - or at least hadn't been one used to murder anyone in the last hour, and stabbing into Boss Killer's discarded fettuccine with it.
October 06. Lipstick
Victoria had been a mill girl since she was 10, a doffer for the older women in the textile mill, and earning herself a bed at the Women's Boarding House, tucked away on the city side of the mill complex, blocking the city's view of the textile manufacturing building and the waste it dumped freely out into the Heaps. She was well aware of the good fortune she'd fallen into, having seen the conditions other girls and boys her age outside of the walls lived in. She was almost 16 now, and still sleeping in the same bed night after night.
The years of being underpaid and overworked left her with a roof over hear head, three square meals a day, and never having to worry about the things that go bump in the night.
Never had to worry about the unwanted attention of the older boys as not a one of them yet able to sneak past the Widow Matron of her building.
That wasn't to say Victoria had not been sneaking a certain younger boy in for a couple of years now.
Three years actually - right under the nose of the adults - with the exception of one of the nurses who'd taught Victoria herself the tricks on a night the young woman preferred not to remember. It was a good thing Killer made a convincing girl, prettier hair than her own, and a wore her dresses and heels as naturally as she did. She just had to make sure he was out by curfew or someone was bound to notice the extra girl at head count.
Once, on one of her free weekends, her dress had torn along the back when it got caught on a nail or something. Instead of going home - and possibly be misunderstood as forfeiting her remaining free time - she'd convinced Killer (and Kidd because she'd forgotten to lock the door) to follow her into a shop's bathroom and put her dress on so she could sew it back up as properly as one could on the fly.
While using him as a dress form - she wasn't particular well devolved and he was about as wide chested as she was and it fit him well enough for the task - Kidd had asked the two if that meant Killer was a girl.
Killer had looked upset, it was too close to the ugly things the other boys called him and while she knew Kidd didn't know any better, it was still bordering on hurtful.
"What's wrong with being a girl?" she had demanded of him. Kidd looked surprised, before slouching against the main door, looking properly told off, muttering "Nuthin'."
With a frown, she'd turned back to her stitching, when Killer spoke up, his voice timid in a way she wasn't used to, "Victoria wears pants most of the time, does that make her a boy?" he asked Kidd.
"...no?"
"You're wearing one of her old shirts right now - does that made you a girl?"
The boy shook his head no.
"It's just clothes and stuff."
"Okay." Kidd agreed, sounding like right now he just want the conversation to end.
But Victoria had looked at Killer in her favorite yellow dress - it was the wrong colour for him, but made a cute silhouette.
She'd brought him an older blue one of hers a few weeks later. They'd snuck into the bathroom again, and she'd dressed him up and it looked so much better than the yellow one had.
And then they'd waltzed right in though the front doors of her boarding house, only barely keeping composed long enough to shut them away in her currently empty door room before they were laughing wildly, clutching at each other to keep form falling over.
"I can't believe that worked!" Killer was cackling, and neither could Victoria, but the thrill off getting such a big one over on the Widow Matron was a high she'd not been expecting.
Most of the time, Victoria was more than happy to hang out with both of the boys, but there was something exhilarating in sneaking Killer away from both his child moocher and past the women of the boarding house. She was pretty sure some of the other girls had suspected something was up seeing as Killer - who had the audacity to introduce himself as Killer still - could never be found at meals or at bed check.
So far though, the only thing anyone had actually said was when Nicolette had still been in the room getting ready when Victoria and Killer slipped in one afternoon. Killer had quickly looked away from the half-dressed woman, blushing, and Victoria had felt a little offended he'd never reacted to /her/ that way. Nicolette had frowned at the interruption but otherwise ignored them, at least until she was putting her things away. She held a little tube up thoughtfully, before tossing it to Victoria. Even surprised, she'd caught it with ease, looking confused.
"Killer'd look good in purple, I think." was all Nicolette said, before heading out for her own night on the town.
It was a tube of lipstick. Victoria and Killer looked at it thoughtfully.
Nicolette was right. Killer did look good in purple. It was a soft lilac colour that worked well with his straw yellow hair and ice blue eyes. Victoria found she liked painting him up in it, some times adding a touch of purple powder that she'd later pick up to the creases of his eyelids.
Sometimes, after he was all dolled up, they'd hit the town together. Other days they spend in her dorm room. "Just don't mess up your lipstick" was her only rule.
And then he'd either escort her back to the doors just before 10, or would be sneaking out the back, headed back to the Heaps. He had a small collection of makeup that was just his that he hid in one of this caches, along with the dress. The other clothes he would bring back to Kidd, who was more than happy to wear even the ugliest prints if not for anything more than the fact they'd never belonged to anyone else before him.
Kidd would watch him those nights, carefully washing the makeup off under the flickering of lamp light.
"You don't have to wash it off..." Kidd had said finally, "If you don't want to. I don't care if you like to look pretty."
Killer had smiled at him, head tilted so his bangs fell away from his face for once, and he studied his younger friend, "You think I look pretty?"
