d y n a s t y

@corajohnsonfaust-blog

will you have whiskey with your water or sugar with your tea? what are these crazy questions that they're asking of me? this is the craziest party that there ever could be. oh, don't turn on the light 'cause i don't wanna see. mama told me not to come, that ain't no way to have fun, son.

4 posts

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dixiepresident·:

He stood there, unknown by most, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other slowly pulling sunglasses from the bridge of his nose with a sudden slight smirk. There was something gratifying about watching their darling mayor speak, ushering about some new-wave of justice for people who should’ve been giving thanks to their presence more than judging them for their crimes–literally. “Well now, we can’t have that.” He commented, his lips curving into a smile.

“There’s always some asshole politician making empty promises and kissing babies to appeal for their next election period. It’s why I don’t vote.” Cora commented, stopping beside her nephew and crossing her arms. She wasn’t ignorant to the rally or what happened there, nor the poor fuck with a hole in the back of his head, but her disdain for the Mayor seemed palpable in measure. Perhaps less sinister outwardly than her blood beside her, but it was still there. She sneered before turning her gaze upward, “I never liked her.”

#x. speak softly & carry a big stick; chats.#cora & richard #dixiepresident

milaxblackshaw·:

Mila sat in the seat and stared at the coffin. She hated funerals, detested them, but Enzo had said that it would seem like a good idea to make an appearance. But that didn’t stop the pit that was forming in the woman’s stomach. These events fell on the city like a plague now and Mila couldn’t help wonder when would it be time for someone she really loved to be next in the ground. Sighing, she stood up and exited the row heading towards the back of the venue looking for something to drink, wishing she had something stronger. Getting a glass of water, she leaned against the wall and watched as everyone made their rounds and said hi to people they knew.

Funerals were gaudy affairs. The whole thing was terribly sad, sure, but Cora wasn’t one for the crying. Like Mila, appearances were key, and while the deceased was someone who Cora wasn’t particularly familiar with, it was a name she had heard more than once. The woman was sure to make her appearance known --- someone like her would want it recorded that she came to give her condolences, after all. It was the proper thing to do. But that didn’t stop her from moving through the line quickly, giving the practiced words and moving out of the way. She perched beside a familiar face, arms crossing over her chest and eyes staring at the receiving line. “Terrible affair. Poor man.”