#imperaetor

*   ☆   ──    she  gives  herself  the  head - start  required  to  hit  the  highs .  sibyl’s  got  a  pretty  enough  voice ,  not  quite  smokey  jazz  material  but  if  he’ll  pay  her ---  she  will  sing . 

❝    goodness  gracious ,  mister  cobblepot ---    ❞

sibyl  cuts  herself  off  before  she  can  complain ,  breathless  after  the  piano  after  her  second  botched  note  in  a  row .  she  won’t  say  she  can’t  do  it ,  her  outburst  was  ill - advised . 

❝    this ,  oh ,  this  is  a  challenge .  but  i’ll  get  it ,  i’m  sure .  don’t  worry  a bit  about  it .    ❞

but  she’s  in  need  of  a  break .  it  gets  her  turning  on  the  piano  stool  forty - five  degrees  to  look  at  him  off - stage . 

❝    but  tell  me ,  love ,  how’s  your  mother ?    ❞

She’s going to punch this dweeb in his face. Not so bad her ass. She doesn’t like it, him, this. Rosie’s a pick sides type of girl (kind of) she sticks to her guns and no back dealing, gel haired fuck is getting anywhere near cordial with her. 

He plays on the wrong side of the tracks with the wrong folks, so she’s sure a little hostility isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with. 

So, she sneers.

“  I’m  not  judging— 

the haunting of hill house | book quote starters

          @imperaetor

Victor stood at the window quietly listening to Penguin, filtering out what he felt was of no interest to himself. Partially sitting on the sill, arms crossed looking the part of the scary assassin, a neutral look on his face to hide that he's bored out of his mind. He hated meetings. Victor preferred just hearing what he needs to do so it can be done, earn his check, maybe add to his tallies and call it a day.

out of context lost.   /   @imperaetor

*   ☆   ──    she  doesn’t  mean  to  laugh ,  nor  to  mock  a  man  who  loves  his  mother .  but  sibyl  simply  can’t  find  it  in  herself  to  lie  about  her  own .  she  stirs  her  tea ,  stifling  her  giggle  half - heartedly . 

❝    in  my  wealth  of  experience ,  mister  cobblepot ,  the  ones  who  cling  on  tightest  do  so  for  reasons  other  than  devotion .    ❞

her  smile’s  wry  and  uncomfortable ,  momentarily  unpleasant  before  being  eclipsed  by  her  desire  to  be  kind .  she  doesn’t  restrain  her  forward  lean ,  extending  her  hand  across  the  table  and  yet  forgoing  touching  him .

❝    but  i  am  so  very  glad  if  the  circumstances  are  the  opposite  for  you .  really ,  it’s —  it’s  good  to  have  ones  on  which  you  can  rely  during hard  times .    ❞