Ms. Samson

Ms. Cora Samson. President of Prometheus Productions.

[coraxsamson]

claudiamcrshall​:

lack of sleep split her along the seams, jagged edges where normally there weren’t any to fear. cora shouldn’t get a rise out of her, she was better than that. she knew that there was no point in playing the game, any question she answered was a stab in the dark, trying to find the spot where she was still bleeding from everything the samsons had taken from her. what had the past ever done for her, looking back on it held nothing but acute misery.

“the accident.” world view tilted, she took a step further back from cora, stuttering thoughts trying to unfurl from the part of her mind that she had pushed it all into. bile rising in her throat, tremble in her voice. “what the fuck—” accusation in her eyes, because there was nowhere else to place it. the awful feelings deep within. what did a connection have to do with the fact that he’d nearly died, she’d nearly died. “what does that have to do with anything.” 

She was not witness to the accident in physical form. Her perception expanded beyond that of what her body could hold, every mineral in the universe in communication with each other, their wavelengths reverberating through space and time, an endless conversation and exchange of information that she'd never be able to hear without them. It was in the grits of sand that needled their way into burning tire treads, the salt in the tears that brewed in the eyes, the iron in the spilled blood that night.

"It was meant to remind you and Julian that everyone has made their plans to how they want them to be," Cora explained calmly, hands folding softly over each other, "and you will only be making this life more painful than it was meant to be if you keep trying to alter them." She released a silent breath, circumstances a series of misfortunes that only she saw were connected. "It was a dear hope of mine that you would understand the consequences better with the warning that not all was lost, but that it could be. I don’t want that for you, Claudia, and I feel that you would not want that for Julian either."

[coraxsamson]

claudiamcrshall​:

the smile was only threat. she could see nothing else past it from sleep deprived thoughts, searching out the red filter to put over every light. the world made simple when behind the camera lens. there was no space left for any more of these kinds of conversations where she had to come up with an answer that tended towards philosophical. what did she have in that that she hadn’t given up to a director in the past day. she would bleed before she let anything slip past her. 

“hurt? no one is hurt.” just one damaged can of an easily replaceable energy drink. and if it extended beyond that she was not going to tell cora samson. her personal relationships did not fall under prometheus contract. “cycle will go on whether i do or don’t. so i better get on with it.” she rubbed the exhaustion from her eyes, giving nothing but the sigh of someone who was losing time in playing nice. “i’m not missing anything am i?”

"Oh, Claudia." Motherly instincts are not always kind. They are always on the razor's edge of disappointment, children are sliced apart on them for much less. Defense is seen as rebellion. Rebellion is seen as disobedience. The world is not as elastic as others think, able to be twisted to whims, it courses forward over and over until the path is righted. The destruction left in its wake is only done so from those that fight against it. "We should take the moment of the now and review the past. It would be good for you to see the consequences laid out to help you learn."

To say she was missing anything was not accurate. She was simply untrained, closed off from the signs that continued to call out to her to no avail. "During the car crash this time, wasn't the connection felt?"

[coraxsamson]

claudiamcrshall​:

meditation wouldn’t solve her problems. closing her eyes and chatting with cora samson wouldn’t change a thing. she would open them and be in the same world, only having lost a few minutes, and perhaps a shard of her soul if her luck stayed exactly the same. “work demands sacrifice.” a few hours less sleep, a strained relationship or two. it was nearly par for the course. “you’re welcome to do whatever—” she didn’t know how to describe what cora was asking of her. she couldn’t let go of what she carried, she wouldn’t know herself if she did. to live so long with tragedy it became her. “i’ll stick to coffee.”

Murky pool she was in, floating along its ruddy-colored surface, directionless, propelled by the wind blown by the dark clouds hanging above her head. Oh, how often she had been stuck in their thunderstorms, tattered to the core in the hurricanes, whirlwind disaster sweeping pieces of her away. Cora felt it, the splatter of pain, oozing liquid of fallen grace. The weight of her voice rippled the tide, rumbled through the lightning, tingling shock through the crystal that hung from the neck.

"This life has taught you what sacrifice means many times over, Claudia," she spoke from above the chaos, the sky open and clear from her standing, looking down at all that had been, was, and would be. "It is your job to learn from the lessons before there is only one left to give. The cycle goes on if you do not." Warm smile, closed-lipped, soft, ethereal, the type of experience that time envies. "How much more of this hurt must happen?"

[coraxsamson]

tomas.

Somehow the silence kept building up, he couldn’t get a read on what Cora was thinking, or seeing. What did Cora even see in him in the first place? He didn’t even dare move until she did, feeling a lightness press to his forehead, an uneasy comfort spread across from that gesture, as she finally let go of his hand. He immediately pulled it back into his chest, nodded faintly to her suggestion, even though salt on wound sounds terrible. “…what?” It felt so out if place, to be thinking like that. Even for Tomas, all he could associate Prometheus to was to Cora Samson and vice versa. It almost seemed wrong if she isn’t here and Prometheus didn’t need her. “But.. I don’t get it,” Tomas turned to follow her movements, watching her busy herself with the salt bath. “..Mr Steele?” A part of him realised he let it slip, something he didn’t divulge, but that was also all he got. Like he said nothing much was discussed before the fork found his way into the hand. “Why?”

There was no doubt in Cora's mind that Prometheus was rightfully hers as if it was her birth right. In many ways it was; it hadn't exchanged hands outside of the family since its foundation. Partners came and went, but the president shared the same bloodline. To hear Tomas' tone of similar mind, that telling hesitation that it couldn't be possible any other way, made her smile softly. Even when the name she knew was behind his wound came to light, it failed to falter the expression. "Silly reasons," she murmured as the bowl was taken up by both of her hands, the heat of it making her palms redden, and yet she carried it without haste to him, setting it down on the table in front of him. "I won't have you worry. Sebastian has a pension for being dramatic, but you've already found that to be true." While she spoke, her hands had gently taken back his injured one, drawing it to the steaming bath. "Now, this may sting, but you have to be good for me, Tomas. It will only hurt more if you struggle."

[coraxsamson]

tomas-visser‌:

Even if he didn’t look up, he could feel the burning gaze on him as he tried to sink further into himself, maybe if he wished hard enough he’d sink straight into the chair and disappear. But he sat straight back up the moment Cora asked further, “nothing, we didn’t say much at all-” truthfully Tomas couldn’t remember exactly what was exchanged other than the searing pain. “I.. don’t think so,” the energy used to try and defend himself dies down in self doubt, maybe it was his fault. “He asked me.. and- I was trying to just leave and–”

Tomas had consistently been bathed in that bubblegum pink light, but the longer the talk grew with Cora, the color shifted on its own accord. Pink was melting into murky brown, a sense that he was finding difficulty in letting her in, in telling all of the truth that she had asked of him. She breathed in, a faintly strangled breath in a sense, before leaning up, getting to the tips of her toes just to reach Tomas' forehead. A brush of a tender kiss to let him know everything was going to be okay before she lowered back to the ground. "Let me get you some epsom salt to soak in," she spoke as she stepped away to a cabinet. "I know it's hard to hear, Tomas," she went on as the crystals were poured into a glass bowl, "but there will be a day when Prometheus will no longer need me." Hot water from a kettle for her earlier tea was poured on top of the salt. "You have found someone that is trying to go against the time set by fate by making that day come sooner than it will."

[coraxsamson]

tomas-visser‌:

Tomas pressed his lips into a thin line, stopping the trembling that kept threatening to spill over. Her words don’t sound as reassuring as it should. And rather he felt like he didn’t have any choice but to speak. He kept his eyes cautiously on the hand over his, trying to will himself to believe it’s a good idea to open his mouth. “It..” He had to pause, almost excruciatingly long, before he inhaled and tried to tiptoe the balance, “it was at a friend’s restaurant, I.. I was helping them out for a dinner service,” did he dare say more? “s-someone was there.. for you..”

Cora's head tilted minutely as Tomas began to speak, only to stop just as shortly. Her eyes on him never were removed, boring into him like a drill that could dive into his mind, scrambling it if he decided to keep secrets from her. All he needed was a little bit of encouragement, though, a soft but thin smile, expectant eyes. It wasn't everything that she needed to hear, but it was progress. His hand was lowered gently, but her touch went nowhere. "I have many appointments, Tomas," she began, "but what was said for all this rough-housing to happen?"

[coraxsamson]

ingridhvwk‌:

she nodded along with the words, feeling the comfort in them. she’d felt so unsure, telling him to go home, to wait until he felt better. rewriting the script, reblocking scenes. but it made so much sense, to know that she was making the decision that was right for him. “i just don’t know what’s wrong.” she could list symptoms, but at the end of the day she and simon weren’t friends. she only overstepped boundaries out of concern. “if he’s really sick he should see a doctor, not just hr, you know?” but she could always agree that there was only one simon, and she trusted the company to do what was best for him. “i don’t want him to think i’m punishing him, but he really shouldn’t be working.”

"Of course, Ingrid," she spoke with a tenderness, feather-light kindness that stroked at all the insecurities. "You're doing everything you can. You'll see this is for the best. I trust Sylvie to be a stepping stone to his recovery. Given how Simon is, forcing a doctor on him will only do more harm than good." The words sounded truthful, a gateway to a brighter future for all, and indeed it was; a brighter future for Prometheus. "If you need to recast his role, I'll let Henri know."

[coraxsamson]

claudiamcrshall‌:

she recoiled from cora’s touch almost instantly, pulling her hands from the table to her lap. she knew that cora was the head of the company, but that didn’t mean she had to bend to whatever the polite convention was. it didn’t mean she had to bend at all. “i don’t cleanse my mind.” she deserved everything that she carried, she held onto the memories that needed to be saved. “they’re not fighting. they’re both fine.” she blanked on a better answer, so used to covering everything from anyone with a top floor office. she didn’t know what cora still found interest in ruining. “i give exactly what i want. it’s not up to them.”

Claudia always was distant in emotions. Virtually handicapped when it came to allowing them to flow out instead of keeping them bottled up just for them to pop. The way her hand moved away only served to make Cora sigh audibly, showing her disapproval in the most languid fashion. "Close your eyes with me, Claudia," she spoke, brushing aside everything the cinematographer told her. "One tiny moment won't hurt anyone. I want you to be the best that you can be, and I know you do, too. It's why you work all those long hours, and it's why you do everything within your power to bring success to a project, even if it asks for sacrifices." She smiled at her, a slow bow of her head. “We have to stop that.”

[coraxsamson]

claudiamcrshall‌:

“behaving themselves?” there’s a joke, right there waiting to be said. could they behave? would she be the one to control them? but she’s never felt much good will towards lightening her conversations with cora. they were best handled from underneath a bell jar. was she not working still within the same system that the samsons benefited from, had no solution that would bring it all tumbling down. “they are working.” she couldn’t attest to much of julian’s progress, not in front of the person it was aimed against. loyal to her own fault, leaving everything vague when she should have filled in some blank. “one dark and the other light,” her own personal coding for the two projects. boy venus all wide windows and clean marble, the danger written in between. identity shrouded in darkness, harsh reds and flashing warning signs. “they’re easy to keep apart.”

Rings of ice surrounded Cora's pupils, washing over Claudia, taking in the way her aura ruffled around the edges. Murky red, the shade darker than crimson. The color was always linked to danger on the physical plane, but not the dimension Cora's mind lingered on. The spiritual realm did not abide by those views, only linking to the truth, telling of the cinematographer's passion and the exhaustion that was weighing it down. "Don't let them fight over you, now, Claudia. They have to learn to share," she advised, "and you need to learn to save a piece for yourself." She reached across, hands slipping over hers. "As much as they need us girls to help them out, it's good to let them stretch their legs out on their own every so often. When was the last time you cleansed your mind?"

[coraxsamson]

tomas-visser‌:

“I..” Tomas couldn’t deny her comment, a tender heart, a weak will, it was the same thing. “I don’t know..” at the end of the day, at the always the comfortable answer his lips gravitated to. He had no idea what she was talking about, and telling him not to worry was a sure fire way of absolutely making him worry. An unpleasant shiver went up his arm, feeling the quick peck to his hand. And the moment he saw the look in her unsettling gaze, he knew. He knew that she knew. He just fucked up. The subtle press onto his hand was enough for him to feel the pain, squirming ever so slightly at the hold as he stuttered, “I- I’m sorry I..” He grimaced in pain with a slight pause, “I didn’t think it.. it was a big deal to bother.. it was- uh just a fork..” a fork that was jammed straight through and into the table.

"Tomas, don't be sorry..." Her voice floated in the air, lighter than the oxygen that she used, contrasting to the way her eyes looked up at him, a strength that demanded attention. "This doesn't look like an accident to me," she prompted, thumb stroking over his bandages. How that touch could hurt him, but she would never cause her children pain. "How did this happen, Tomas? Don't be scared. There is nothing to worry about when you're with me, as long as you tell me the truth like the good boy I know you are."

[coraxsamson]

ingridhvwk‌:

“well, thanks.” she smiled, all sunshine, pushing away the grey clouds that threatened to over take reality. regardless of whether it was meant to be, it was working out for the best now. and that was all she should really focus on. “the contracts—no they’re great!” after all, they were made up of some of her closest friends. she scanned through the list in her mind, who could complain about any of them. teagan, tommy; “well, i’ve never worked with simon knight before. i think he might be really sick, something about migraines?” she hadn’t quite pieced together the different complaints that were given from the crew and the actor himself, but she knew he was hurt. “is there anything i can do? i feel like he should see a doctor.”

It was only a matter of time before Fate called upon another of her children, their destiny coming within sight, unveiling itself to her in its own way. The moment Ingrid's voice wrapped around the name she had already felt a pull towards, there was a divine alignment. Her head nodded slowly, sympathetically, encouragingly, rich with understanding, much more than her young director could ever comprehend. "Oh, dear," she spoke softly before lips frowned. "I wish I could say it was more uncommon, but you have to listen to your instincts, Ingrid. If you think he needs help, I trust you to let him have the time for it. Sylvie can see him.” She paused, letting that sink in before continuing, broaching the worst case for her. “We can always find another Brooks, but there is only one Simon, just like there's only one Thomas and one Teagan."

[coraxsamson]

jcunos‌:

Something about her expression told Juno she didn’t really care for whatever secrets the autopsies could lay bare; expertise probably just meant sadism. Her gaze was – not exactly piercing, but firm, firm enough that he felt uncomfortable lying, but uncomfortable speaking the truth. “I – no.” A soft admission, almost no more than a whisper; it sounded so pathetic, hanging in the air. And it wasn’t the end of the truth, of the fight that somehow remained in him. “But – I don’t think I ever have. What’s the point? If all you want to feel is safe, you’ll never get to feel alive.” The most alive, and the most terrified, he’d ever felt: rushing towards his death in a soon-to-be wreck of a car. 

Once an outstanding yellow, Cora sees something else before her. Dark blue, the ocean's depths, the type of color that would have consumed Juno had he not survived his car crash that one particular night. It was the color that drew a fuzz around his silhouette, blurring his outline into their surroundings. Sensitive with emotion, a feeler, a follower of the heart first and mind second. Juno's honesty, the rhetorical questions attached, only caused a ripple of gold to flutter along the edges. Protected from himself, she thought. "I'm happy to hear you say that, Juno," she replied, a dream-like smile on her face. "It's important to me that you always feel alive. When there is no feeling, the flame inside of us is easier to burn out, but I know that you already know this."

[coraxsamson]

tomas-visser‌:

“What..” it was all but a breath before Tomas could form the question, “what do you mean?” Same feather, Tomas couldn’t really see the similarity between him and Cora. It made a sinking feeling, adding to the feeling that she did choose him, and he won, and it wasn’t because of his skills. It’s been more than a year but it still dredges up the memories of failing even with the win. But his attention was quickly dragged back to his hand, watching her roll the bandages away to reveal the wound, the bleeding comes and goes, having to disinfect it is the biggest pain in the ass, but now having to stare at it, in a vulnerable place at the mercy of someone he couldn’t trust. He completely tensed up at her touch, but hissing at the pain throbbing between the thumb and pointer finger, pulling back to wrap it back up, “I.. It’s- it’s nothing, it was just an accident..” Tomas mumbled, quickly trying to wrap the bandage back before it had the chance to start bleeding again.

Her hand was already on his, tips painting over the back of the undamaged knuckles as he questioned her. "Nothing that should make you worry, Tomas. You've always had a tender heart, haven't you?" Always open to be broken, always open to stop beating, such was fate. She couldn't blame him for not remembering. "Shh... It's all going to be okay," she assured after the hiss from his lips reached her ears, leaning in to give a gentle peck to the hand, just a touch away from where it was injured. Her frown had disappeared for a moment, only to be summoned back at Tomas' lie. Eyes drew up to his, a taller being than her and yet it felt as though she could bring him down to her level and beneath. "It's never a good idea to not tell the truth, Tomas," she reminded, hand still on his, fingers strengthening, even subtly, but enough to give a hint of a threat. "We don't like liars."

[coraxsamson]

ingridhvwk‌:

“really?” there’s a lingering note of hope in her voice. perhaps wistfulness would have been more appropriate. she’d never felt completely at easy with cora, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t understand what a role the other woman played in her life. cora samson was in the peripheral haze of her world, there was no better or worse to it. “it’s a great learning experience. i know i wasn’t the first choice, but we take things as they come, right?”

"Always, Ingrid," she answered, voice like home--that feeling of comforting warmth wrapping around you, sheltering you in a bubble from the dangers of the outside. "Now, don't say you weren't the first choice. We never settle at Prometheus. If you are directing your own project, it was all part of the bigger plan, and I would never have it any other way." Cora's mind was organizing its priorities. Game Night fell at the bottom, even when she was discussing it with her, but there was one point that coincided with what laid at the top. "Are you having any trouble with your contracts?"

[coraxsamson]

jcunos‌:

The question was pointed, a knife jabbing between once-broken ribs; Juno couldn’t help but wonder if she’d only asked that because of his — experience with the subject. With trying to end your life. Yet it was reassuring, in Ms. Samson’s disconcerting way. “I don’t know—” he fiddled with the handle of his cane, mulling it over. “I guess there has to be some kind of mark left on the body? Something that proves it’s murder?” Even for Prometheus, it was almost surreal, putting everyone on edge even more than normal. “Has anyone examined the bodies?”

Cora hummed at Juno's words. It sounded thoughtful, but her mind was already made up. She was well-acquainted with murder, even if it wasn't the term she'd use to describe her mother or sister and her father was still clinging to this life so he couldn't even be considered in the general description. The idea that a mark had to be left behind, though, was one that was disregarded. Carys had no mark, not one that would cause her soul to step outside of its shell. "Yes, there has been one we let. Our lead censor has been kind enough to use his expertise to help--Tammy." And yet it boomeranged back. Poisoned by anti-freeze. She sighed as her hand wrapped around the crystal around her necklace. "Do you feel safe, Juno?"

[coraxsamson]

sloane-bennett‌:

Sloane hated this. They hated when Cora talked like this. They couldn’t tell if Cora really was expanding on some idea, or if Cora was purposely obfuscating what she was trying to tell Sloane. Instead of shooting straight, Cora made her words dizzying paths of a maze. Is she explaining what fate is, or just redefining it for her own reasons?

“A lot of things have changed,” Sloane said, taking a seat across from Cora, not bothering to restrict the space they took up. “I just don’t agree with you on fate. The way you use the term is about as weird to me as the way people misuse the word ‘natural.’ Besides…” Sloane let out a heavy breath, as if they were sick to death of the topic. “…death is publicity. Even if it’s not formal cancellation, Prometheus can still do something with it. The number of people reacting to it like headless chickens is irritating. And everyone keeps asking me if I can believe it. The only people getting it right are cynical journalists.”

Cora frowned, and yet it still looked delicate against her porcelain skin, a vague downward curve of the mouth, nothing too deep that would cause lines. "It's all right, Sloane. I don't expect you to understand what took me lifetimes to learn," she answered with a sigh before her head tilted near her shoulder, eyes swaying as her hand gently tugged at the hem of her dress to avoid the wrinkles. "You're right about one thing, though," she went on after a moment, bringing her eyes back. "There is something that can be done to control the panic, even if many won't agree with it. When we are all under one roof, it will bring us closer to exposing the truth." And smoke out the cause one way or another.

[coraxsamson]

claudiamcrshall‌:

she did not appreciate cora’s company. she didn’t seek it out, preferred to be left to her own devices. but so long as she worked under prometheus, she would run into her boss. everyone’s boss. even with that knowledge on the table, she’d never found it in herself to be particularly kind. she couldn’t keep anyone off her set, at least not anyone who was paying for it in the long run. “i don’t intend to be replaced.” clipped, straight and the the point. she never had been subtle with her lines of inquiry. and she wasn’t going to sit around and say thank you. “it only matters if people see it.”

"Of course you don't intend to be. Who would do such a silly thing?" To the untrained eye, that would have passed as reassurance. Of course you could never do anything to need to be replaced. Then again, the sharper the eyes, the harder it was to hide the truth. Of course you don't intend to be replaced, but it can happen since you aren't in control. Cora's smile was natural, it came to her face as if it had always been there as she sat down, making herself comfortable as her hand smoothed out her floral dress. Short, white heels crossed at the ankles. "Oh, it's hard not to see what you do, Claudia. Don't worry about those little details.” Her head tilted, blonde hair staying precisely in place, not even a strand rustled. “Are our boys behaving themselves?" The naughty director children, always up to something, aren't they? Though Identity had picked up another, one she didn't adopt.