The Fine Art of Poisoning

Welcome, welcome my darlings. May I offer you a cup of tea? How about a scone? I make them myself, you know. Me? No, no, I'm not hungry. But please. Help yourself. My name is Cancer and I'll be the last thing you ever see.

[larmoyante]

It hurts every day, the absence of someone who was once there.

Marie Lu, Champion (via larmoyante)

[aseaofquotes]

Katja Millay, The Sea of Tranquility

[quotes-shape-us]

You want me to be a tragic backdrop so that you can appear to be illuminated, so that people can say ‘Wow, isn’t he so terribly brave to love a girl who is so obviously sad?’ You think I’ll be the dark sky so you can be the star? I’ll swallow you whole.

Warsan Shire (via quotes-shape-us)

[corleoniszodiacus]

"Right— there." The assassin replied, gesturing with no more than a tilt of the head, his tone a conspiratorial whisper. "Ten o’clock."

He had turned towards her and leaned down in order to be heard over the steady burble of cheerful voices and the clink of glasses, a smile on his lips and good-natured innocence in his eyes — anyone who happened to be watching the two (And they did draw the eye, dazzling young couple that they were), would merely see the gentleman making some privately amusing remark. Just like Lailani, he had dressed for the occasion in a sleek, dark suit and red-and-gold waistcoat, the deep crimson of his tie precisely matching the shade of her gown.

The mark happened to be a wealthy Scottish gentleman who had left a trail of fractured marriages to a series of increasingly powerful women in his wake. Hell hath no fury, Lionel supposed, because the spurned ex-wife of two marriages prior had secured his services, with a hefty bonus offered if the kill was made during this gala, hosted in order to celebrate his ninth engagement. The man in question currently stood at the center of a throng of famous faces, his latest fiancee on his arm and a champagne glass in his hand, blissfully unaware of his own impending demise.

It was a terribly public manner in which to dispose of a mark, even for Leo, who specialized in the grand and dramatic, and it was this fact that had Lailani at his side. Her methods differed decidedly, and yet he could easily appreciate her careful combination of artistry and finesse — an ideal skillset for a diversion that would never be recognized as that.

[cancerouspoison]

She bowed her head when he leaned in, a smile pulling at her lips and a laugh spilling from her lips, flirtatious and light, and she surreptitiously glanced at where he mentioned. Ah yes, that one. How could she have thought otherwise? He seemed like a decidedly disgusting human being, but even if he didn't she'd have little qualms to killing him. Or, rather, being complicit in the killing of him. 

"She's young enough to be his daughter." She murmured. "Is she off limits?" Her dark eyes were already scanning around, picking out the most prominent, the most wealthy, the most attention-grabbing individuals that would cause the most fuss if they were to collapse. Who better than the blushing bride to be

Lailani had seen a movie describing this before. A Kansas City Shuffle. She quite liked the sound of it; they made everyone look right while they went left. Ideally they'd have it done within the hour and people would be none the wiser. 

Disentangling herself from Leo, she plucked two champagne glasses off a passing waiter's tray and handed one to him before holding her own flute up for a toast. "Licet, quot vis, vivendo vincere secla. Mors æterna tamen, nihilominus illa manebit." 

She took a sip and savored the light, fruity flavor of the drink and settled back in at Leo's side, the glass sitting delicately in her fingers. A drink was her weapon of choice, she felt safe in this environment. Just a bit of sleight of hand and chaos would soon erupt. "Did you know that toasting one another was a way to deter poisoning in the middle ages?" She glanced at her date, a coy smile on her lips. "It shows good faith, the clinking of the glasses to mix the liquids." Another sip, a bit wider of a smile. It was unfortunate, then, that she had built up an immunity to most of the tinctures she dealt in. Of course, she wouldn't poison him here. No, she'd wait until a bit later so she could properly study the effects. 

And it wasn't like she was going to kill him. 

[luhan-ci-blog]

Touch what is mine and I won’t even try to make your death look like an accident (◕‿◕✿)

[larmoyante]

We’re all lonely for something we don’t know we’re lonely for. How else to explain the curious feeling that goes around feeling like missing somebody we’ve never even met?

David Foster Wallace (via larmoyante)

[aseaofquotes]

Gayle Forman, Just One Year

[larmoyante]

Oh, darling, you will be good to me, won’t you? Because we’re going to have a strange life.

Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (via larmoyante)

[mortiseiusfit-deactivated201312]

N o t h i n g that I do                   Will e v e r be enough for y o u W h a t e v e r I do, whatever I do.                    T a k e me as I am

[larmoyante]

She seemed fragile like a moonflower – destined to bloom for a single lovely night, and then to fade and fall.

Juliet Marillier, Wildwood Dancing (via larmoyante)

[cancerouspoison]

It was unexpected, but the more she thought about it the more it did make sense. 

She was a creature of wealth, born and groomed and primped and primed for this sort of affair. She could blend in with the debutantes and heiresses like she belonged because she did belong. She wouldn't call any attention to Lionel while he did his part and she could cause a perfectly adequate distraction with her own brand of havoc. 

The ring on her finger was more than just a gorgeous ruby. 

Her arm was folded around Leo's easily, fitting next to him like she belonged. "Positively lovely," she said airily, looking about. "It's been absolutely ages since I've been to a gala this elegant." 

She wore a red dress, over the shoulder and asymmetrical but simple and her hair was swept up in a french twist, a few choice curls framing her face. 

Leaning more into him, Lailani dropped her voice low so only he could hear it. "Do you see him?" The mark; the one who someone hated enough to hire Leo to kill him. She wasn't in it for the flair, the drama -- but she could appreciate another artist at his work. 

[maintainingabalance]

{ She knew he was there. He felt her unease skin-deep, having to pause for himself. He knew for sure he was rather skilled at stealth. For her to have noticed him, well, she was either really skilled or really paranoid.

Or something else.

There had been something about her when he read the file, when he’d first looked at her picture. It was that something that had drawn him to this job in the first place. Thought maybe he could figure out what was so compelling about her.

But standing there then, seeing her in person filled the assassin with some feeling he couldn’t put his finger on. Now wasn’t that odd? He’d considered himself the master of his emotions, and in some cases other people’s emotions. It wasn’t often that he found himself flustered, caught off guard by his own feelings…

He shouldn’t have responded. He shouldn’t have come out. He shouldn’t have approached as he did. }

— {♎};; "I guess it is, if you know I’m here, huh?"

{ It was surprising how he didn’t hesitate to reveal himself, stepping into her view. He kept his hands in his pockets, thumb running across the folded picture. He couldn’t shake that feeling in his gut, that feeling that told him there was something about this girl. He wanted to believe that he was merely feeling what she was feeling… but he knew the differences between his own emotions and other people’s. }

[cancerouspoison]

It was a fact that most people spoke into the night when they felt a thrill simply to feel comforted by the uncaring sounds of the dark; the thrum of cars in the distance, the croak of frogs. No one every truly expected someone to reply to these paranoid fits that often had one blushing at how silly they were being. 

Lailani wasn’t any different. 

When the young man stepped from the dark, approached her, spoke to her she felt a wave of panic, but that was quickly eclipsed by something else all together. Her locked onto his face, inching over every detail, trying to grasp what she was feeling, trying to figure out why she was feeling this. 

A few long moments passed since he spoke; her hand curled tight around the shears but what was she going to do with them? She didn’t know how to kill anyone with those. She was a poisoner, her art was subtle, untraceable if done right. 

The shears dropped to the ground with a thud and she smoothed her hands over her skirt, forcing her eyes off him and looking around. An entire garden of killers but she couldn’t utilize one like this. She swallowed hard, her heart still careening against her chest but not at the breakneck speeds it was at before. 

"I honestly didn’t think that would work. Most people who make a habit of sneaking up on women in the dark wouldn’t be so…" She tilted her head, regarding him for a beat. "open about it." 

Now why was she talking to him instead of running, punching the code on the alarm in the house and calling the police? Well, perhaps the curiosity that burned in her breast kept her feet rooted to place. Why was he here. What did he want. Why did he make her feel like this. 

She smiled; there was still an edge about her, a nervousness that made the gesture a little more forced than usual though it was still bright. Beaming. Right now they were in his playing field. If she could shift things, get into her comfort zone…

"But I suppose I can’t judge. Most women who get snuck up on don’t invite a stranger inside for a cup of tea." She angled her body, gesturing to the door. If he was a killer, a rapist, a kidnapper perhaps he’d be thrown off balance enough to take her up on the offer. Drink the tea. Once he was inside he was playing her game. 

[aseaofquotes]

Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

[grumblygardensarchive]

✉ Text Messages ✉

∞ - For an altered state of mind text. (Drunk, drugged.) # - For an angry text. ♦ - For a rushed text. x - For a secret text. ♥ - For a regular text. * - For an early morning text.

[chickkyyychickk]

"I never even wanted tomorrow with anyone before. Now I want every single one of yours to be mine."

Radclyffe (via chickkyyychickk)

[larmoyante]

'You,' he said, 'are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain.'

Emilie Autumn, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls (via larmoyante)

[larmoyante]

“I now know that some people feel unhappiness the way others love: privately, intensely, and without recourse.”

Khaled Hosseini, And the Mountains Echoed (via larmoyante)