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[idiosynchronics]

zeitlosleben‌

A very specific date, but she didn’t need to ask the reason behind his decision in order to understand why he had chosen it. It made perfect sense. “He won’t give it to you,” she said immediately after him. “No man in his right mind would, just like I know you wouldn’t.” If people were willing to kill each other over just a few thousand dollars, she could only imagine what 640 million would do. “He would rather die.” Not like she imagined this to be some sort of issue for him or her, but she did wonder what his plan was if the man refused. “Let’s assume I’m right, which I am, what then? How are we going to get to the 640 million? What’s your magnificent and great plan?” She said with a small hint of sarcasm.

               his eyes rolled in equal measures of disappointment and displeasure. “of course, he will not give them to me.” the chair creaked when he leaned forward to carefully lace his fingers on the blueprint, his lips once more curling into an obsequious smile. “you are no stranger to intimidation. people might die for money, yes. people like us, my darling, but he is cut from different cloth.” much more flimsy, much less likely to withstand the faintest threat. his eyes pinched into daggered glares. “my plan is to force open  the vault.” a plan which did not include her at any point but there was some delectable satisfaction to be found in laying it out for her - or there had been until she had set out to torpedo it. “theo will take care of the computing part of it while karl and the others will tend to the wires.” software and hardware in synchronic effort. it could not fail. it would not fail.

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eleanor

His answer hadn’t been enough to satisfy her curiosity. If work wasn’t in his mind, then what was it? she wanted to ask, go back to the topic until he gave her that answer that she was looking for, but asking questions one after the other, wasn’t part of the role she was playing and sometimes it was better to simply remain quiet and so she did exactly that and simply continued eating what was left on her plate just as he did. – “A dog? are you serious?” The smile from before reappeared for a second time over her lips. She seemed more excited about this than when he told her about the palazzo that she was soon going to be moving in to. Immediately, Eleanor got up and walked around the table and went to his side to lean down and wrap her arms around his shoulders. “I love you.” Three words that meant nothing to her and that at that she always threw around so easily, but that always sounded genuine coming from her lips. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and caressed this same spot with the tip of her nose. “Are you keep spoiling me like this for the rest of the night? because I surely wouldn’t mind. Would you come with me to choose this dog?”

a dog. so easy. a complacent smile stretched his lips. rodrigo was content that, for now, her good mood no longer threatened to crumble at the prospect of a handful of disadvantages about moving into the palazzo, but he was equally satisfied to have found out just how to placate her. her confession of love drew a chuckle out of him. pressing the napkin to his lips, he leaned in her embrace and craned his neck to gaze up at her. “and i love you.” again, so easy. did she mean it? not likely. she was like a child eager to please when consumed by the excitement of an upcoming treat and he… well, he was happy to indulge her little charade. no harm, no foul. “i will spoil you whenever i want to.” his arm moved to snake around her waist. “you want me to come?” yes, he was surprised. they rarely went out lately. rodrigo hummed as he both considered her request and enjoyed the soft caresses she was lavishing on him. “i will,” he agreed. “what sort of dog would you like? i will need to look up places before we go.” a frown came to crease his features as he added, “not one of those little, yappy things. those…” he waved a hand, frowned again. “no, those will give me a headache. we don’t want that.”

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when it’s time for your favorite character to show up

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el

“Oh, so you want me to give you feedback? I certainly can do that. I’ll put everything on paper tomorrow so you don’t forget any of the things I’ll address.” Her smile grew wider with each one of his kisses until it finally turned to a laugh and not everyone could make her laugh like that. His question was one that she hadn’t expected him to ask and despite the smile that refused to leave her, but her silence made it evident that he had taken her by surprise. Why was she here? she had never actually stopped to think why she always was seeking his company. Physically she liked him, there was no doubt about that, but no, that wasn’t it. The money? that was out of the question, she knew men that had more than him, in fact, she was sure that she had more in her bank than what he did and as far as she knew, he didn’t have any connections that would benefit her if she were to need them. In her head, she kept asking herself questions, until she found the answer that she always had known but decided to ignore.

“Because I want you. No, that’s not exactly it. I need you. You are what it could have been, but it wasn’t. You are the person that I was expecting to meet at some point when things weren’t the mess they are now, but perhaps we met a tad too late.” And she wondered if things would have been different for her if she had met him before, perhaps she could have been happy then. – She buried her face in the pillow, feeling more than just stupid after everything she had said and if she could, she would take it back. “Forget all that, I had some wine, I’m tired and sleep-deprived, I talk nonsense when that happens.” She wasn’t worried at him laughing at her for saying this, but what if the answer made him uncomfortable? what if for him this was only business mixed with pleasure, a good time and nothing else and if that was the case, she was going to feel more of an idiot for saying what she did, but at least she would know which barriers she should keep up in his presence. “ Now you tell me. What about you? why did you look for me? why come all the way over here?“

               in truth, he hadn’t expected a reply, not an honest one anyway. a laugh, yes, a playful deflection, the ordinary. instead, she surprised him, stunned him into silence, forced him to turn towards his own introspection. and there it was eventually. some denial conveniently justified by alcohol and insomnia. blomkvist watched her, pushed his fingers through her tousled locks. “i don’t think you’ve had nearly enough to blame the wine.” he didn’t attempt to alter her position, to have her turn her head on the pillow. that she confessed to needing him must have been mortifying for someone like her, someone who prided themselves on being so strong, so detached, so cynical about a world they knew inside and out that they didn’t need anyone. let alone a person so far removed from the waters they were used to navigate. “why is it too late?” he asked, deciding to ignore his lack of commitment. one broken marriage was enough. 

his hand slid downward, found the soft expanse of skin between her shoulder blades and traced aimless patterns over it. “i told you. i was concerned.” was it too simple a truth to accept? did she want to hear more, a deeper meaning, a concealed agenda? “your life, the people you get associated with, they aren’t the best. you weren’t…” happy. satisfied. “you know i care for you, el. it wasn’t right to be that intrusive. i’m sorry. i know what it’s like to have your privacy violated. saying that i did it because i was worried doesn’t excuse any of it. it only explains it.” he shifted, propped himself up on his elbow, retracted his hand. “you could have been in danger or dead. i couldn’t forgive myself for sitting idly and trying to pretend everything was fine or even normal.”but what is fine and normal for blomkvist is a far cry from what is fine and normal for her. the thought that he might be suffering from saviour syndrome was repulsive enough to know that this was precisely what he could be doing - as if she weren’t capable enough to look after herself and get herself out of those situations she invariable ended up in. edging closer, he put down his head on her pillow. “it’s not too late.”

[idiosynchronics]

el

The night was going to be a long one, Eleanor had predicted that when she decided to drink more than the usual, but she never thought that it was going to get any worse. She didn’t know when or why, but she felt tears running down her face and she quickly wiped them away. All those emotions and memories she had been trying to ignore and put behind her, were all too present at the moment. She attempted to drink some more, but when she looked down at her empty hands she remembered that she had left the bottle behind. – “Friends?” she laughed at the word. How many people had called themselves that in the past only to use her or leave once they didn’t need her? She had been too stupid, trusted people too much, and now she was here because of that. She had trusted him and she was already regretting it and for that reason, she hated the fact that he had decided to come here and if he hadn’t had done it, her thoughts about him would have still been the same and she could have still considered him someone special and different than the rest of the men she had met.

“So tell me, Herr Blomkvist, in your book of morals and ethics where is this written? where is it ok, to track someone down and look for things about them in order to locate them?” She began walking back to where she had left the bottle, but her lack of balance had her falling on the floor after only giving a few steps. “I’m fine!” She yelled at him to stop him from coming anywhere near her. Eleanor didn’t get up, instead, she remained on the floor where she decided to remain seated. She didn’t make any movements and didn’t say anything else, but images of her parents, the small house she had grown up in began to form in her head, and she felt the need, the urge to go back to those days. Her life was never supposed to become what it was today, and the reality of what she was living and what had happened was too much for her to handle altogether. The silence in the room could almost be felt, it was both thick and heavy, but it ended her loudest scream left her lips, followed by tears that she was unable to control.

          she is drunk, blomkvist reminded himself. still lingering between the living room and the front door, he took the lashing out with a stern face and resolve rooting itself in that mantra. she’s drunk. she won’t remember half of what’s happening. and yet. how much truth could be found at the bottom of a bottle of liquor? how much exhilarating liberation had she been given with each sip? perhaps what she was saying was the truth? no. he frowned, almost to himself. no, eleanor had never had any qualms about speaking her mind. her voice was getting louder, her speech more slurred. what he was watching now, immobile and grave, was the pathetic spiraling of someone in desperate need of an outlet. blomkvist was it. the step he took to anticipate a fall he’d seen coming before she could even realise that she was now on the floor was denied; and though the resentment he was willing to push through kept on building, he stayed where he was. “you’re fine,” he agreed. his tone was almost dull. as though she were some wild creature which had wound up hurt and weak on his doorstep, he decided to coax her into reassurance. 

and then she screamed. that he hadn’t expected. once again, he paused. now a few feet away from her, he waited for the silence to fall on them once again and when it did, his ears were ringing with the aftermath of her outburst. if he was shocked or upset, if he pitied her or resented her, she wouldn’t be able to tell. he walked some more, crouched, opened his bag to produce a water bottle he put down beside her seated form. how long before it was hurled across the room? a pack of tissues followed, fished out from the side pocket where he kept a few pens and a pack of cigarettes. he opened it, took one out. “it isn’t ethical,” he said. “or even legal. but i did it because it was the only way to find you and to check that you were still ok.” or even alive. “i shouldn’t have come tonight.” that had been a mistake. blomkvist, before knocking on her door, knew about her situation. salander had done the job thoroughly. 

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CESARE & CONNOR ;; ▲ @idiosynchronics

                                                 “I’m everything you can’t control.”

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ooc;; sometimes your best friend betrays you and you need to move on. not tagging but @idiosynchronics

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connor / @anarmyofme​

Of course he did, he knew exactly what Cesare was talking about. He didn’t have a father, but there was Amanda and pretty much everyone at Cyberlife that had expected him to do what they ordered, reminding him almost daily that there couldn’t be mistakes or there would be consequences. Those days had come to an end, but Amanda? she was still there, existing within him and the thought of her coming back scared him. “I know.” He leaned towards his side, to get closer to him. He knew that Cesare was right, but that was exactly the problem, that to him it fell like with each passing day things got worse or remained the same, but never got better, not for him. Sure, there were moments on where he could laugh, even sometimes have somewhat of a good time, but those were quickly gone and he came back to being like this and he was getting done and tired of it. “But sometimes it feels like life is ‘shit’ all the time and then sometimes you think that maybe this is the way that it is supposed to be for you. – I don’t like it.”

           watching him intently, listening to the very few words that were forced, pulled out of him when he usually was the kind unable to shut up, cesare understood that connor had spent hours like this - possibly the entire day. once again, it fucked him up, how human he was. perhaps too human for his liking. “sometimes it does,” he agreed. his thumb kept stroking the soft, synthetic skin under what served as an eye. even now, he couldn’t tell the difference. how very human indeed. “i don’t like it either.” though he, too, was plagued by deep existentialist crisis, depression had never managed to sink its hooks into him and drag him to lay down at the pit of some dark abyss from which no return seemed possible. that connor was now lost to such a wretched condition…  “i need to go out,” he lied. “nothing highkey. you should come.” his hand slipped down to cup his face. “i want you to.”

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365 Characters ↳ #30 - Lucretia Borgia

Ambition rules this family - my father’s, my brother’s, and I would have to add to it my own if I don’t want to live in a garden of weeds.

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el

“Oh, a friend.” Had she been a friend to him? or not quite that but something else instead? that had never been clear to her and it hadn’t bothered her then, until now for some reason. It was the alcohol, she would blame it on that. – What was she to him? (or had been) back in Stockholm, at times she had been under the impression that her presence only resulted problematic to him, and other times that he was fond of it. All this soon went to being unimportant, when he decided to continue with his explanation. “Wait, wait, just wait.” Her eyes closed and she remained quiet, as she attempted to process the information that he had decided to share with her. “You ask me if I’m angry, right after you tell me that you had someone looking me up and digging up information about me? what do you think Mikael!?” No, this was not only the only reason why she was in such a mood and state of mind, but him telling her this didn’t make things any better.

Putting the bottle on the floor by her feet, she got up and walked to the opposite side of the room to put distance between the two of them, her hand at times reaching for the nearest piece of furniture to keep her balance. Had he really done that? had he really decided to ask this friend of his to locate her and find information about her? and if she had given him her location, what else had she managed to find and tell him. She could feel herself getting anxious and she felt so exposed and for a second there, she didn’t exactly know what to do with herself. Without looking at him, she came to a stop. She had deposited in him a small amount of trust, but trust none the less and now this was making her feel almost betrayed. He was just like everyone else, wasn’t he? “So what is it Herr Blomkvist, were you looking for me for one of your articles or you just were in the city and wanted a good fuck?” Her words were sharp and cold.

           alcohol always brought about the anger he knew was always there, brewing, waiting for a few sips to be unleashed at something or at someone - he doubted it made a difference so long as a recipient was there. though when it turned on him, blomkvist changed his mind. someone was better than something. someone could feed into it. there was no stopping her now. he could either stay and wait for it to pass or leave. his mind wasn’t made up yet so he stood there, watched her, thought that he could very well relate to how she felt because he had been tailed, looked into (and in very private details) and followed. ironically enough, it had all been done by the same person. now wasn’t the time to disclose as much.

“you’ve every right to be angry,” was all he managed to say before she flung another insult his way. his expression hardened, his jaws clenched. their relationship might never have been defined, what she was accusing him off was neither right nor fair. not when she had initiated every aspect outside of their professional entanglement. “i was looking for you because i was concerned.” it came out slowly, laboriously. it had to or he, too, would say things he would regret; and el was in no state to nurture that conversation. he nodded at the bottle, pointed at her. “not without reasons.” of course that was only the tip of the iceberg. he scoffed to himself, turned around and found his way back to where he’d dropped his bag. when he picked it up, he turned to face her. he could have stayed and perhaps he should. still undecided, he stared at her and wondered whether coming had been the right decision after all. giving up now would be easy but the consequences… blomvkist could already picture himself, unable to sleep, staring in the dark, ridden with guilt. “it’s what friends do. they look after one another.”

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Rosy (2018) Directed by Jess Bond

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bubby, what if you start balding? what will you do? tell us all about it

i will not do anything because i will not ever be bald. i have excellent hair genes.

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connor

Connor changed his position to look up at him without having the need to turn his neck to do so. Last time he had decided to stay here, both ended up getting into an argument that had led them to a fight on where both ended up hurting each other. All this could happen again, but this was not exactly the reason why he thought that maybe moving in with him wouldn't’ be such a good idea. “Let’s say I stay, you won’t get into a problematic situation for having someone living here?” That was his first question of the few (or many) that he had and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to stay here with him, but he also didn’t want to become a bother at any given point.

“You do realize that if I keep doing my job, sooner or later I’ll get involved ‘in whatever shit you’re in’ he said using his same words while trying to contain his laughter, a laugh that soon died when the look on his face changed for a more serious one. “Also, you do know that I get involved because you’re important to me, right?”

          “no.” if anything, he might be applauded for sheltering an android - and one who had fought against his kind. “you’ve got your room here, don’t you?” there were enough women batting their eyelashes at the priest for them to believe he wasn’t the least interested in men, let alone in connor. “this is rome,” cesare reminded him with a scoff. “they won’t look twice at it.” the corruption might be attached to his name, it was his brother’s all over the newspapers and his father’s face in the media. it surprised him that the first concern connor expressed was about the potential consequences for him. the jarring smile he wore softened as he peered down at the face on his lap.

“aren’t you familiar with the phrase turning a blind eye?” his left arm stretched out on the back of the couch, his right hand pushed through connor’s hair. “i wasn’t sure,” he answered. it was blunt, perhaps, but it was honest. whatever connor’s feelings about the situation or him or even the arrangement they’d found without really talking it through, he’d never assumed anything - not after what had happened. “i don’t want you to get involved with anything that has to do with my family and it isn’t… it’s not because i don’t trust you, con. it’s just better, it’s safer.”

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i don't know about you, but if you ask me, i think el and blom are secretly in love with each other ; )

we don’t talk about these things, anon. 

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Why are you crying? I’m not.

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                            TURN THE [PAIN] INTO POWER.

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