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LADY MACBETH | DELILAH CANNON

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#pinned #a haunted house with a picket fence | muse #can you hear the violence | threads #pulptv.intro

[ gutierrez family home / headquarters ; @explosiives ]

Dinner is a quiet affair, both women consumed with their own work and comfortable in each other's silence. Alexander off with friends, and its still early enough for Delilah to not worry. No, her concern lies with her eldest. Carmen hides her tells well, projects the cool confidence of a leader, but Delilah knows her daughter. And in the privacy of their home Carmen is less careful - the documents in from of her littered with tiny scorch marks from the lighter in her hand. "Darling, this is an old house, you are going to set off the smoke alarms." Delilah says this in her usual airy, offhanded manner, and only after she finishes the page she's reading, does the consigliere look up. "Where are you meeting him?" A mother always knows, and Delilah makes it her job to know.

#can you hear the violence | threads #delilah | carmen

makingenemies

the antidote to her snake venom, it's found at the bottom of an empty glass. a tap on the rim calls for another to the bartender six paces away cleaning a fingerprint smudged flute with an off-white towel. and viktor is answered in judgement ladened strides. the same silent condemnation, he might deduce, would come at the expense of dangling a cigarette from his lips just now. only, from her. “ it's a good thing your concern doesn't matter much about what he does as an adult. ” contempt fuels his desire to meet her gaze, stone cold as the day she left. a blemished memory of a woman in black, pulling and tugging at what he's buried. what they've buried. “ since you already know that, how exactly did you plan to execute this threat? ” still, he assumes that years which have not been kind would keep delilah's intent crystalline; as if he knows, but he doesn't even know her. the voice of the dead reminds him just now, like a whisper and a phantom hand on his shoulder, the very same as the day she ran.

blondambiticn

"Legally," she corrects, pedantic in that way that always irritated him. Despite her parents hopes, Delilah did not earn her law degree simply for fun - and Viktor is well aware of that. "And are you still so goddamn self centered and vindictive as to place our only living child in potential danger for your pride?" She looks at him now, wielding those words - our child - as a weapon. "If you truly cared about him, you would understand my concern. His interest in you only came about after the death of the man who actually raised him. Why should I not fear that your boy king won't take advantage of this moment to harm Alexander to get at Carmen or myself? And you've yet to provide assurances that he is safe in your care." All of this is said in her signature aristocratic coolness, as if commenting on the weather or some other non essential thing. She takes another sip of her drink, ready to conclude this whole ordeal when her driver approaches. The man leans in close, speaking such that only Delilah can hear. She's disciplined enough to show no reaction, only nodding then waving over the bartender for another drink. "Caring about my son's safety is not a threat," Delilah continues, "and it is concerning to me that you see it as such."

#delilah | viktor #can you hear the violence | threads

explosiives

When Lev Moreno dies, Carmen’s chief of staff has a statement on Carmen’s BlackBerry in record time. Carmen’s week is spent with her face wreathed in a twisted sort of empathy, wringing the attention of cameras and assuring New York that a death like this means something here. (It does, but not in the way New York hopes. It does, cause Carmen's having a fucking party dancing on a grave.)

That morning she’s got another freshly printed statement between her nails when her mother catches sight of her. Carmen’s given up smoking in the public eye, which is to say: she practically chews through a pack of cigarettes under her desk everyday. Now a low haze hangs around the politician’s dark curls. She stops in the hallway.

“Mother,” Carmen croons with a sort of sharpness that translates to affection for a creature like her, “this is really fucking with my plans to fixate on the smear of blood in front of the Halcyon.”

Nevertheless, she supposes Delilah has to get something out of her system. Carmen accepts by dragging a chair to a window - so she can lean her head out and let the New York air kiss her. There’s little curl of smoke from her own lips in return. As she does, her mother’s concern unveils itself.

Carmen offers a languid wave of her hand to dissipate the well-measured worry, the smoke - all of it is as if to say ‘Alexander’s safe with me.’ He is. No place safer in New York than under the wing of a carrion vulture like Carmen, one that had a hunger for flesh and a long memory. “Collect? The kid’s going to rebel if you try to smother him.” Carmen warns lightly - even though Carmen is the sort to believe that all loved things should be kept in a box so they can’t be taken from you. Few things were worth loving with such violence in the first place.

blondambiticn

"Is it still there?" A little crease appears between her brows, a faint look of disgust - Delilah does not get her manicured hands dirty, never has. "Surely they've cleaned it up by now, how vulgar." She waves away that thought and Carmen's smoke with an errant hand. The Moreno's would be the type to make their mess everyone else's problem. The melodrama of it all speaks to a particular type of killer, but that's not of concern to her at this moment.

"He's far too clever for that, he could have gone anywhere for school and he chose to stay here with us." Delilah understands though, in her own way, and appreciates Carmen for who she is - sharp edges and all. "But I am concerned, he's been asking about my first husband," Viktor is never Alexander's father, not in this house with the man who actually raised him, "Obviously we do not want Alexander anywhere near the Moreno's, yet he is an adult - so I cannot technically keep him away."

#can you hear the violence | threads #delilah | carmen #death tw

nervouspearl

Rosamund Pike as Elspeth Catton in Saltburn

#deep blue but you painted me golden | face #this is current lilah look / vibes #i just dont have gifs yet

domiiiino

The cigarette was halfway through by the time she found him. Not that he was lost, it seemed as if the man was called to the nightsky each time the witching hour struck. If there was no moon to keep him company, the stars did. If there was no stars, his own company did him just fine. But Delilah's was even better.

The name Lev Moreno weaved in and out of his head throughout the last week. Cisco didn't mourn the loss of life; That's the risk one takes when you play a game as big as the one Lev Moreno played. Cisco knew it well, he was playing the same one.

Cisco took a drag of his cigarette, following her question with a shrug. The death of Lev wasn't a loss for the Guiterrez family at all, it was an opportunity. They needed to make moves and they needed to make them fast. "You know I get my best ideas at this time," he said with an exhale. "As for you," he began, as his tired eyes met hers. Was that a smirk growing on his lips? "You might need your beauty sleep before we talk."

blondambiticn

She knows his shrug just as she knows all his other tells - over fifteen years of knowing him deeply, down to her marrow. Chaos is opportunity, and they will be the first to take advantage of it. But action can wait until morning, until they have a clearly defined plan. "I do, and I cannot wait to hear them," Delilah reaches up and lightly plucks the cigarette from his hand, placing it between her own lips and delicately taking a drag. She only smokes in the dead of night, a habit firmly associated with those early days pouring over his case and ignoring her pain and emotions. Now though, its a tiny vice to share with the man she loves.

"Lover, you know my beauty is not dependent on something so fickle as sleep." Cisco smirks and Delilah preens, vain creature that she is. She lingers there for a moment longer, basking in his attention before she sighs, and presses her head against his chest once more. "I find myself stuck considering who might be responsible," it did not matter, really - how they respond is what truly matters. But Delilah cannot tear her mind away from the question - there are far too many possibilities, each with their own more interesting reasons, and those are only the ones she knows of. "You would have told me," its a fact, plain and simple. They do not keep things like this from each other. "And chosen a better method."

#death tw #can you hear the violence | threads #delilah | francisco #just married couple things like discussing the fall of ur enemies <3

bad0gs

𝗟𝗢𝘊𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕: delilah cannon's office, mid afternoon. 𝗪𝗜𝘛𝘏: delilah cannon, closed for @blondambiticn

⠀#⠀ AN EIDOLON DONNED IN black, height towering upright and destruction withered in the glint of their hues. seems nowadays the headlines haunt wherever they look; A TRAGEDY, stained in printer’s ink, cruelly mundane for someone so grand in concept. death’s an ideology tangled within helena’s sinew and marrow, like an old childhood story told in familiar hum. ( 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐁𝐑𝐄 / orphans dreamt of happily ever after, you wished for divine retribution. ) alone in solitude, forceful with their own gaze to admire new york’s corrupted skies — avoidant of front page news sitting in front. it was simply business as usual. “ ms cannon. ” voice drawls and canines exposed. rome didn’t stop when NERO DIED, and new york will do the same with lev moreno. “ im glad we could have this lil’ talk. ”

blondambiticn

"Ms. Caine, come in." It's only through sheer force of will that Delilah's law office in midtown remains neutral ground, that and the weight the Cannon name still carries in this city. Some meetings, she's learned, benefit from the illusion of being above it all - the skyline serving as a picturesque backdrop for golden curls and an icy smile. "Please, sit. Would you care for a coffee?" She glances at the clock, "or something stronger?" A conspiratorial quirk of crimson lips, and Delilah moves to pour them both a drink. "You have our sincere condolences, of course, on your recent loss." They both know its a lie, but we are nothing without our civilities. Delilah sets the glass down in front of the younger woman then gracefully resumes her own seat. "Are there any updates?" Another question she does not expect an answer to, but Helena's reaction might prove interesting.

#can you hear the violence | threads #delilah | helena #sorry this took forever angel <3

makingenemies

𝐕 ,　DELILAH CANNON　...　　( @blondambiticn ) 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘯. 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘻𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭 𝘣𝘢𝘳 , 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘳

“ you knew he was't coming. ” accusations never out of reach, dancing on the tongue's tip, an attribute similarly likened to the woman at the barstool adjacent. the one he hardly indulges with recognition, a payment reserved for anyone else who wouldn't peer at him with the same cutthroat malice. almost tangible in her gaze, the way she desires to reach over and wrap a wedding band costumed hand around his throat. and maybe, it's mutual. the first of shared common ground nestled between a snifter glass of scotch, untouched since its arrival mirrored the sound of a repetitious clack across the marble lobby. “ so why did you? ” his positioning shift removes the ex-wife from his peripheral and a grasp claims the wood-aged spirit, bottom lip pressing against the glass with another accusation. “ maybe francisco should find someone else to spy for him, that's what this is about, isn't it? ” not alexander. the death of their god. a name that fails to be spoken. lev moreno.

blondambiticn

Delilah takes a sip of her drink and does not comment. Viktor likes his accusations, flimsy things to fling at her like weapons. "He has exams this week," she reminds him coolly, almost cruelly. Her son is brilliant, of course, and he's always her son - a vindictive, self-centered nature ignoring any and all resemblance to the man beside her. She looks at him now, the father of her child ( sperm donor if she's feeling particularly cruel ), and feels nothing. Nothing but pity for the girl she once was and a swell of heartache for the other child Viktor took from her. "Don't be absurd," spoken with haughty, aristocratic disdain, the kind she knows irritates him to no end, "You are of no value to us." A casual remind of where he stands in her life, and perhaps a hint that she gets her information elsewhere ( true ), one that hopefully sends him off on a paranoid spiral. "I am here about Alexander," she takes another sip. "However, given recent events, I am concerned about him seeing you."

#can you hear the violence | threads #delilah | viktor #id apologize for her but we both know shes not sorry

possession

ROSAMUND PIKE for Grazia Magazine (December 2023)

#deep blue but you painted me golden | face

[ @niightterrorss , 3am , gutierrez family home ]

She wakes up alone. Once the initial moment of panic passes, the solitude does not concern her as it might have once. Delilah knows where to find him, and rises from the bed at her leisure, wrapping herself in a robe. The cold air jolts her even further awake, the glow of his cigarette on the patio beckoning her closer. She slips under his arm as if she’s always been there, grateful for the warmth her husband’s body provides. Delilah’s head leans against his chest, hand trailing up his back as she murmurs, “shall we talk about it now, or in the morning?”

#can you hear the violence | threads #francisco tbd

patrick-stewart

SUCCESSION | 4.07

blondambiticn

@makingenemies

#a haunted house with a picket fence | muse #delilah | viktor

[ @explosiives , gutierrez family home ]

"Carmen?" Delilah's voice is cool, almost disinterested as she calls out to the figure passing through the hallway. "Sit with me for a moment," she smiles, and it's phrased as a suggestion, though her daughter knows the truth by now. The blonde sets aside the brief she's working through, not really that important, and focuses entirely on the woman before her. "Please be careful today, darling. The Moreno death has the city on edge," that's putting it mildly, but Carmen knows her well enough to recognize the genuine concern under the icy facade. "I nearly had someone go collect Alexander, but he promised he was meeting you at City Hall after his exam today."