ᴅᴏᴇs ɪᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴛʀɪᴀʟ﹖ @adrienne-dawson - Tumblr Blog

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viictoriovs.

jai’s answering laugh is easy, as is his posture; everyone in the business is intellligent — but matching his sheer c h a r i s m a is no easy feat. biting words slip off his back, oil to his water. his father rues his frothy grin, but his mother simply hides her own knowing smile. “ that’s a compliment in and of itself, ” he begins, leaning in closer to whisper, “ you are, after all, a difficult woman to fool. ” technically, he has made no false statements. jai is of the diplomatic sort; he only speaks the truth, implying so much more with just the right intonation. ( his mother would be proud. ) besides, he knows the girl isn’t as bad as he’s made her out to be, but a rhodes scholarship doesn’t negate the fact that she studies medieval literature – not quite his cup of tea. he’s still bored and a bored rich boy never bodes well. “ may i ask what brings you here, or would that be considered corporate espionage? ”

the husky baritone in his low whisper strokes down her back; she can almost feel it in her spine, as she maintains the glass rim’s position, close to her features, like a veil she knows better than to relinquish; knows better than to stiffen in posture — but the space between them still chills some and he’ll know he’s delivered what is intended to fruition even when all he receives in answer is a calm smile. ❛ am i? ❜ dark gaze dances now, with a supercilious amusement — the air of someone who has played this game too many times before. ❛ you seem to know a lot about me mr. rathore. careful now, ❜ she turns away slightly, beginning to glide slowly toward the next piece, leaving him to follow as he wishes, ❛ the presumptuous often fare no better than court jesters these days… ❜ a low hum escapes the back of her throat as she admires a portrait, swathed in golds and bronzes. rough strokes — chaotic, powerful yet radiating such valuable brilliance. ❛ do you know why this gallery, is so sought after? ❜ an easy question, for it’s impeccable interiors and vast space, reputation amongst the city’s most influential clientele. she won’t wait for his answer. ❛ it doesn’t rob artists of that little percentage of the proceeds that no one talks about. upkeep is expensive… and yet it continues to flourish, thanks to a few silent benefactors. ❜

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queenofironhearts.

@viilify

the usual distant family member at least had the decency to knock before entering, but juliette has other things on her mind as she foregoes formalities and enters the only other house in her childhood neighborhood that belongs to a Dawson. “ Aunt Adrienne ! ” she calls, her voice sounding impatient despite the surprising twinge of a n x i e t y that she feels. it’s not that her father’s sister s c a r e s her, but asking someone a favor (particularly from someone who is more enemy than friend) is not exactly an enjoyable task.

it’s an old habit, how she fingers the lone slender bracelet on her wrist as she glides as if she’d only just put it on; taut composure, she draws it in from the pits of her core — that proverbial muscle is one so over-flexed, she barely feels it anymore. she stops at the top of the circling stairs, that same eerily unreadable expression save for those glassy eyes reserved only for this particular unwelcome intrusion. ❛ frédérique has been careless, that door should have been locked… ❜ the velveted stairs cushion her feet as she begins to step down, slowly — why hurry? ( it gives her time to swallow the inconvenient worry that’s welling up her throat ) a vision of elegance; no title in the world would ever hope to contradict who commanded the room, not when she walked into it. ❛ this is a home, you’re familiar with the concept aren’t you? ❜ so comes the tight smile, deceptively serene, and loaded with venom. as if alexander had ever understood what made a home; the virtues of a family. ❛ if you or your peers have flubbed another meeting, i’m sure it could have been covered in an email. ❜

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viictoriovs.

he’d happily admit just how much he admired adrienne dawson, complete with a cheeky grin. alexander dawson may have been half the original genius behind the dawson-rathore powerhouse, but adrienne – she was a different class entirely. if he weren’t so determined to strike her and those around her…he might just be tempted to beg a summer internship, kneeling at her far too expensive shoes. “ but we are not so concerned with aesthetic relevance, ” he murmured, drawing closer. hands clasped behind his back, he painted the perfect picture of a charming young student. “ our concerns are far more monetary in nature. 2.8 is significant. ” a rakish smile graced his features as he raised his fingers to trace the groomed lines of his beard. “ it’s difficult not to be fruitful when the company is so very…stimulating. ”

but aesthetic relevance can be everything. his response fails to surprise her. of layered conversation and banal pleasantries, she is the pioneer, a veteran and the faint smile doesn’t reach her eyes, allowing the sip of amber liquid negate response. a member of the rathore clan through and through, of course, cut from the same cloth as her dear brother. she detests the partnership, despite its prudence; feeding sweetened milk to snakes, alexander would think he’d know how to control, foolish as ever. but adrienne … adrienne has weathered a seven-headed serpent in her own flesh and blood at every corner, there when she wakes, there when she sleeps for over 50 years; holding its spitting venom in her throat too bitter to swallow she has become one herself. she knows a long play bait and switch when she sees it. her lips spread a touch as if acknowledging his humour. ❛ she certainly had me fooled. ❜ and just like that she sobers in a calm dissident poise; refusal to engage.

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❛ i’ll have someone from our offices be in touch, i’ll make sure of that personally. ❜ the final word, albeit casual, resonates with some weight. vice president or not, she has been having to do quite a few of these company vetting meetings personally. alexander may have big plans for dawson enterprises, but off-shooting every major account to either or both of their daughters ( juliette only to be more accurate if he could have his way ) instead of experienced employees of higher position in order to void any plans for usurpation from someone outside of the family, ( delusional as well as paranoid ) would eventually render them careless and incompetent. this project adrienne would oversee herself, to every last detail, interiors included. [ @indesiign ]

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viictoriovs.

jai had never been one for modern art ;; he was like his mother in that way, had inherited her sensibilities. but if a client’s daughter particularly liked pollack, then of course he’d take her to latest exhibit. grateful when she excused herself to refresh herself in the ladies’ room, the young business heir casually observed a piece. “ i think klimt is the most modern artist i enjoy. this contemporary work is too similar to childish paintings in my opinion. ”

he is speaking to the inky silhouette her hair makes; not one strand out of place in a perfect dark cascade, a little ways in front of him, champagne held delicately, between fingers that are drier than usual. swathed in black, she cuts in muted elegance, merely a bystander this evening. a slender finger taps once against the chilled surface, gaze fixed on the mottled colour, an expression of what few would understand and even fewer would appreciate, that is the real draw for her, even with those that simply don’t fall within her own palette. ❛ well thankfully your opinions won’t negate its success. this particular piece has just sold for 2.8 million. i wouldn’t write off the entire category, aesthetics aside, there is usually some relevance. ❜ it’s as if silk slips from between matte lips, a velveted sound; polite, but leaving little room for contradiction. ❛ fruitful evening i presume? ❜

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JEWELRY. an indispensable part of the persona, especially for a company event — how quixotic an idea, that grandeur could be manufactured by a few cut stones; jewelry. always a celebration of false intentions.

dry fingers graze the smooth, almost powdered surface of the box; it’s futile to say the least, choosing a set for the gala is no rocket science, but a rather frivolous ode to alexander’s little ‘aprés moi, le déluge’. the movement behind her lifts her gaze by a bare touch, as rigid shoulders square almost imperceptibly. ❛ we are well into december, ❜ it is soft; expectant. [ @infiinitvm ]

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INDESIIGN.

❝ A safe distance prevents from eavesdropping. ❞ A soft smile is on her features, there’s no malice in her words nor behind the reason for her action. She expects nothing in return, not even gratitude. Not because she thinks ill of the other woman, simply because small gestures can be appreciated in other ways. Once the name is provided, paired with the company attached to it, she puts two and two together. She takes the offered hand and shakes it, firmly. ❝ Pleased to meet you. Barbara Moore. ❞

❝ Ah… I suppose I’ve left all the chivalry to the men, no wonder the idea’s becoming extinct. That mistake certainly won’t happen again, but I must give you credit, most women find good gossip in places like these, ❞ the serene smile hints that she counts herself among these women — some sort of reverse self deprecation, yet no one would ever count Adrienne as a gossip, it couldn’t be further from the truth; feigned humility for a non-existent flaw. She exudes a quiet charm, ready dimpled smile in an endless show of courtesy, flitting with ease from person to person — a social butterfly, yet behind those glittering depths is a stone wall bedded in iron, with no door. Her supple hand withdraws as she glances at the room at large. ❝ And what brings you to a room full of vultures like us? ❞ The dimples in her cheeks deepen at the jest, although it doesn’t seem to reach her eyes… almost as if it’s a scoffing irony — without the scoff.

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INDESIIGN.

❝ Neither, actually. ❞ She confessed. She had used every ounce of confidence she possessed for her interruption, and for now it had paid of. What would come next, Barbara was sure, could backfire on her spectacularly sonner or later. Still, no one would make her feel guilty or out of place for showing kindness to someone. ❝ Forgive me if I’m mistaken, at a safe distance it seemed you could benefit from a break from the gentlemen you were in conversation with. ❞ Her gaze moved to the flute held in her fingertips momentarily, before looking up once more. ❝ If I’m right you don’t need to talk to me, we can simply walk until we’re out of their sight and you can seek anyone who would provide a more enlightening conversation. If I’m wrong, I apologise and won’t take more of your time. ❞

❝ A safe distance. Well we’re not all mercenaries, I assure you. ❞ Brows lift a touch as she listens. It is her pride of course that takes mild offence at the notion that she’d required rescuing — although she is correct about this benefit she refers. It is also however in poor form to admit to such a thing, so instead a smile spreads her lips; that same practised grace as a forefinger taps four times, rhythmically against the champagne flute she holds while she hums, barely audibly. ❝ Adrienne Dawson. ❞ She offers her hand. ❝ Dawson Enterprises. ❞

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INDESIIGN.

Barbara wondered what she was doing at the event, usually she’d be home with her family and enjoying quality time with them. Still, she had the chance to make the most of it. Her eyes fell on Adrienne, who had an expression Barbara was quite familiar with. Not thinking it twice, she walked toward the small group of people and stood beside Adrienne as she spoke, although respecting her personal space. ❝ There you are. I’ve been looking all evening for you. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something, privately. ❞ She flahsed a smile to the others. ❝ I won’t monopolise her time for too long. ❞

A brief flicker of complete bemusement passes through delicate features in the way her eyes widen a touch at the addressal as she turns to find — well not someone she can place immediately, but Adrienne is nothing if not gracious. ❝ If you’ll excuse me gentlemen, duty unfortunately beckons, Mr Sanders, I do want to discuss more about that Van Gogh. ❞ A placating smile spreads, so practised, that it’s almost second nature, before she steps away, thankful for the intrusion, albeit wary of its warrant, one banal conversation inevitably would only lead to another. ❝ I either owe you an apology for being unable to recall if we’ve met, or you have me mistaken for someone else. ❞ Such modesty is perhaps undue — Adrienne Dawson of all people is not one who can be replicated.

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RECCKLESS.

Flaunting about a boyish grin, his careless steps let his arrival be known. Leaning against the door frame, scanning his mother’s meticulous behavior, not uttering a single word until she chooses to… “greet him”. “ Don’t speak crazy… My wild Vegas wedding isn’t until next month. ” he taunts, stepping further into the room. the smell of roses assaulting his nostrils as prying eyes dare to peer over her shoulder. “They look very pretty, mom.”

How many times have they been over this? How many times has she begged him not to behave like a common vagrant ( oh people would pay MONEY for that; Adrienne Dawson. Begging. ) — not to confirm her own private suspicions of tainted blood, of delusions such as karma and the thought that brought the bile to her throat the most: failure. She doesn’t turn, not quite yet — as if it’s a matter of convenience. It is a vast piece of real estate they live in, immaculate arrangements like these, littered throughout the compound, specifically maintained by herself and herself alone. Roses don’t disappoint. Roses are consistent. “A wedding. Yet another thing we’ll eventually have to buy you out of. Perhaps you could learn to officiate, at least then when you don’t show up the reckless couple will have time to reconsider. I think that’s quite useful, no? fleurs équitables ne restent pas longtemps au bord du chemin Bennett.”

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❝ . . . ❞

If she had to hear another boring anecdote at this godforsaken event, she might as well hang herself from the ceiling. Even her pretences were on the verge of slipping, it was her own good fortune she had a drink in her hand to tide over this horror show.

hayscodings

Victoria Grayson + text posts (1/?)

viilify:

Even the snipping of the scissors isn’t ominous enough, barely past 11 and she’s already poised, proper, and ready for any occasion at a moment’s notice. It’s methodical, the way she cuts with precise care, yet with brisk movements. She doesn’t turn or give any indication of awareness before speaking. “ Back already? If you must hurl, avoid the carpet. I wasn’t expecting to see you until next week.” The last word comes out far icier than intended, punctuated with an extra loud snip.

bennettdawson:

“Okay, fine, leave…” disregarding his own words, a flash of alabaster skin and black hair rushes to stop her tracks; ARMS OUTSTRETCH blocking the path ahead. “—but also don’t because I… Need help with my tie.” unlike callyn, he did not inherited adrienne’s talent for deceit, but desperate times…

Perhaps it is a mother’s burden, knowing the depth of every crevice however small from each life she has cultivated for so long. She is unable to feign surprise when she finds her way marred by the constant reminder of her mistakes. It seems harsh, but Bennett’s failings seem to be more and more inclined toward her own than anyone knows. ❝ I don’t have time for this Bennett, someone has to make sure this family has enough resources to clean up after you, and you’re not wearing a tie. ❞

#c: bennett

grahamsarah:

❛ and i appreciate your trust, miss.dawson, but... ❜ indelible features waver, CAVING in, heavy lungs relent, releasing a grouchy breath. ❛ my god, you’re truly relentless, aren’t you? i’m— yes, fine… if i start now i think— yes, i can have it done by thursday… i’ll just have to cut sleep and food out of my schedule, no problem. you know, sometimes i think you enjoy torturing me. and— do keep this between us, please. ❜

If there’s any remorse, it doesn’t show in the slightest now that she’s gotten what she wants. ❝ Oh I wouldn’t be if it weren’t this important. I’m sure adequate hydration will suffice, I’ll ensure personally that you are compensated for the trouble. — And on the contrary I enjoy the fruits of your talent, as I’m sure you’ll enjoy my gratitude, I deal in numbers of course, it’s our little secret, if you stick with me, you’ll be set for life. Now that can’t be so troubling can it? ❞

#grahamsarah #c: sarah

arabellahart:

“Yes, I guess so. She’s very busy.” Arabella replied with a polite smile before quietly adding. “As always.”

“She should be back soon, she called about ten minutes ago and told me to make coffee. Oh, Ms. D– Awson, nonsense. Up until I was 15 I was convinced your last name was Dawesome. You’re strong, wise and more importantly, never let the world get to you.”

❝ As is expected, she has an important responsibility, the load on her shoulders is far greater than mine, I certainly couldn’t imagine the strain day in and day out. ❞ Oh, but there is more strain than she admits, and not so much pertaining to work.

❝ Ah, I will wait then. Is she fond of it Irish or is that your little liberty? ❞ Genuine amusement replaces the perfunctory pleasant smile she’s kept thus far, and her ever lithe shoulders shake in the briefest of silent laughs. ❝ I usually tell employees that flattery gets them nowhere, but yours is certainly creative, I’ll give you that. The latter is very kind, I appreciate it. But the world gets to us all I’m afraid. It only depends on how we conquer our own defeats, or at least appear so, but I’m sure you know a thing or two about that, don’t you? ❞

#arabellahart #c: arabella

bennettdawson:

“It seemed like a very good idea at the time… Then again, I’m sure Lindsay Lohan thought the same about dying her hair blonde.”

She is trying. Trying not to behave rashly, or be too overbearing. She knows what her children think of her — oftentimes she can’t help it, but here it comes, the dull throb in her temple. ❝ I think I’m going to get some air. ❞

#bennettdawson #c: bennett #why r u like this #why #y r u a constant headache

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ᴅᴏᴇs ɪᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴛʀɪᴀʟ﹖