brunette nemesis.

ind. sel. prvt. vivienne kensington written by farran // musical-based         + minor book & film influences. ✘✘✘

[kcnsingtcn]

maddie.

          maddie doesn’t know what to say. she still hovers, unsure of how to proceed. looks down.

          ❝ of course it’s important. YOU care. ❞

          she approaches, hand trembling before it settles for a quick patting on vivienne’s head. then, she tries to take vivienne’s hands into her own.   & squeeze them gently.   & just—– let her know that maddie DOES care.

          ❝ i’m sorry your halloween hasn’t been very good. do you… want to talk more about it, sweetie ? ❞

          maybe she can make tea & get vivienne to bed & just… cuddle her. show her the black pumpkin maddie painted, as a reminder of their first halloween.   & in holiday spirit, maddie’s got black & white striped tights   ( that was a TERRIBLE movie, don’t get her wrong, but… maddie DID like the tights ).   vivienne probably won’t get the reference, though.

          the air feels heavy. cold.

          no, she does not want to talk more, regrets speaking in the first place. vivienne slides her hands out from between maddie’s, first to brush hair from her eyes & then to fold them tight in her lap. if she could have nothing else, at least let her have her composure.

          maddie is an awkward weight at her side, never quite touching but close enough that vivienne can feel her presence. an unwelcome one, now; the apology comes too late & moreover isn’t what vivienne WANTS, really. she wants––––understanding, maybe, but even that might taste bitter if she got it. she hardly knows what she wants, anymore.

         she stands.

          ❝ maybe i’ll just–––– ❞

                    ( die ? )

          ❝ ––––go to bed. ❞

[fuchsia-and-boonbucks]

How much of a sinner is your muse?

[roseofvalor-a-blog]

rdcwson:

ahphra:

use this to find out and post the results

[kcnsingtcn]

lucy.

          ❝ it was going well—– really, it was. quincey is such a gentleman & his family seemed sweet. but then—– but then it was time for dinner & i… i’m still not exactly sure WHAT happened. it was kind of… well, they came out dressed like… colonists ?   & they had a pond in their ranch & they just… started throwing tea bags into it ? ❞

          lucy distinctly remembers coming to the united states years ago   & the festivities had been substantially different. dinner, prayers, hugs. crafts for her & the other little kids.

          she grimaces, hands trembling as she unpacks. won’t look at vivienne. is still a bit in shock.

          ❝ & i was confused—– kind of frightened, really—– & quincey asked me if i knew about the british raising taxes & the tea party &———- well, of course i knew, but, um, i didn’t know americans were… still so… bitter about it. i’ve only celebrated thanksgiving officially once, in new york, but, uh… don’t recall it being so… ❞

          she struggles for the word. helplessly flops down in her bed. she’s rambling now, doesn’t want to upset vivienne.

          ❝ just———- don’t recall it being so ANGRY. ❞

                    ( @kcnsingtcn. )

          under other circumstances vivienne might have objected to the description of quincey as a gentleman as opposed to, say, a blustering BUFFOON; as it is, she’s too busy trying to constrain her mirth.  & exasperation. but mostly mirth.

         ❝ they ritually reenacted the boston tea party ? ❞   she asks. her composure cracks; lips twitch & an undignified snort escapes her throat. hands go to lucy’s shoulders, squeeze.   ❝ i told you texas was––––ah. STRANGE. ❞   not that vivienne has ever been to texas, but one hears things.   ❝ i’ve never met anyone still bitter about it. & for that matter, texas wasn’t even a british colony––––didn’t join the union until, what, 1844 ?  45 ?––––so i don’t know why they of all people would hold a grudge over it. ❞

          she sits, one arm loose around lucy’s waist, & nudges her roommate with a smile. comfortingly, she hopes.   ❝ & technically, they didn’t raise taxes. colonists kept smuggling shit to avoid paying taxes––––it’s a grand old american tradition, tax evasion––––& the british passed laws to simultaneously lower taxes & crack down on the smuggling, & the colonists threw a fit. & kept smuggling. & started wailing about taxation without due representation being unfair, until the british walked back the law &––––well, rinse & repeat, really. the taxed tea everyone got so worked up about was actually cheaper than anything else on the american market at the time. people were just pissed because the british were trying to bail out the east india company by giving them such favorable treatment that they could underprice & swamp out all other competitors. completely different issue. ❞

          ( precision, vivienne thinks, is important. )

[kcnsingtcn]

i feel strongly that viv spends her evenings watching the news & grumpily drafting policy papers for when she runs for president even though she’s like, 26. 

[kcnsingtcn]

???

The common people. Javert’s brow comes together, a fortifying of distaste but not yet a complete defense. It’s a natural reaction born in the streets and further cultivated there. And ‘common’ has always had a faint malodor; he sees the ordinary, the average as also weak. They are responsible for most crimes. Therefore he wants no part of it. But still he listens, arms crossing, for words sometimes carry different meanings. A thing even he will admit.

“I imagine they wouldn’t approve of the wholesale freedom running rampant nowadays,” he says with conscious irony, “but in the hypothetical, if they were to accept universal suffrage— they would agree that so much ignorance was beyond belief. With rights come responsibilities. That I think is what they were getting at; only the elite could properly shoulder the burden of responsibility. Looking at the current situation, they may even have been right.”

(The system is as it is and has been since his birth and so he won’t set out to dismantle it; but he can see the sense here with alarming clarity.) He doesn’t enjoy learning, takes it on as another duty. Education isn’t his passion though he can see its uses. “The wrong people? And who are those? Authority figures?” A test.

“Sometimes authority figures, yes,” Vivienne says, shrugging. It’s a broader question than she feels comfortable answering with succinct and sweeping generalizations. “With authority comes a burden of responsibility. Uphold the laws, teach our children... govern without driving the national economy into a ditch. And most people like things to be simple––––it isn’t, for example, satisfying to say that children aren’t performing well in school because they’re stressed and sleep-deprived and overworked and inundated with constant unrelenting pressure to excel, and meanwhile the schools are so underfunded that facilities are falling apart and the teachers are struggling to put food on the table. Easier to just say, well, the teacher’s shit.

“Or it’s the wrong authority figures, sometimes. People vote for Congress and state legislatures based on how they feel about the president, did you know? Never mind the actual records of the candidates in question––––it’s their allegiance to or against a president’s party that determines how most people will vote. Because they don’t have the slightest understanding of how the government actually works, and it’s simpler to act like the president controls everything.” A heavy breath as she finishes, a slightly self-deprecating smile; she hadn’t intended to go on quite so much.

But this is something of a pet issue––––and practice, perhaps, for launching herself from prosecution into governing––––and it isn’t often that she finds a tolerant ear. 

[ladiesoftheatre]

“Warner may have seen a girl who was just sleeping her way to the top, but I see a girl who doesn’t need to.”

Day 327: Vivienne Kensington (Legally Blonde)

[kcnsingtcn]

???

Javert doesn’t bother to interject a response, not yet. Just lets her plow ahead. He has his own opinions on what’s completely bullshit but he suspects he is about to find out her perspective. Whether he wants to or not. And sue him (but actually don’t) but this is a rare instance he doesn’t mind being spouted at by a complete stranger and it’s not in an interrogation room. God knows those have been dry as the Sahara lately. He could use something interesting.

Even so, he’s genuinely surprised when that’s what she delivers. He gives it a few seconds to sink in after she’s finished, then fires back with less vitriol and more approval than he’d expected to find for her just a minute ago. Still, he can’t help a wry note creeping in. “The founders, probably. But I agree. We all might as well learn something of it while we’re in school anyway. Maybe then they’d grow a proper sense of respect.” He switches from first to third person too easily. “There’s too little of that going around these days.”

“Well, the United States was built on the idea that common people ought to have some say in how they were governed, with the responsibility to develop some understanding of how it all works that that entails.”  She’s a little calmer now for having a (somewhat?) sympathetic ear. Takes a breath in, sighs it out.  “Granted, the founders labored under the belief that nobody but white, propertied men could carry out that responsibility and thus should be the only ones allowed to vote, but––––still, I can’t see them approving of this––––this widespread lack of knowledge we’re cultivating today.” 

Too little respect, indeed. Not so much respect for authority figures––––which, in Vivienne’s view, is only healthy in small doses––––as for the system itself, flawed though it is. The sheer number of people who don’t think it’s important...

“And of course, after high school it’s typically too late, because failing to teach it teaches them that it doesn’t matter. Educational oversight becomes willful ignorance, and that breeds apathy or, worse, a bunch of people voting for things they don’t understand. Or holding the wrong people accountable when something goes awry.”

[kcnsingtcn]

me: wants to be hugged and held, is totally touch starved and needs to be cuddled

also me: allows only a very limited number of people to touch me at all, let alone in a slightly intimate way. barely ever allows myself to show emotional weakness around people. gets anxious when someone hugs me for too long.

[kcnsingtcn]

lucy.

          something gloomy settles on lucy’s mind—– perhaps it is a reminder of her mother’s health or a ghost of her past, but vivienne’s words strike something COLD within… it is the knowledge that there are cold, cruel things in the world. & though vivienne may call herself jaded & ugly & cruel, lucy doesn’t see it in the manner. it’s more of… knowing vivienne’s experienced this & other painful heartbreaks, & that the world in general has gone through so much pain, which is what really gets to lucy. 

          eyes, sad, rest on vivienne’s. lucy doesn’t want any… anything UNNECESSARY to hurt anyone, but there’s terrible things in the world ( there MUST be, to break others in such a cruel way ) & there’s no way to make them all go away.

          ❝ i just… the only thing i see, when i go out is… i see SUNSHINE. i HAVE seen sunshine & no matter what happens, it’ll always shine for us. through sadness & pain. there is something comforting about that, don’t you think ? to know that through wind & rain, the sun is still there… will ALWAYS be there. & when the storm blows over, it’ll be warm. ❞

          she wants to hug vivienne, wrap her in blankets, maybe. but she seems so CLOSED OFF, or reserved, maybe. is there a difference ? lucy doesn’t know. she wants to reach for vivienne’s heart, but doing so could cost the bit of progress they’ve made.

          ❝ & i want… i want this to be something good for us BOTH, you know ? we can be friends & it’ll be good ?? ❞

          a gentle chill makes itself known along her spine as vivienne watches lucy’s features shift toward MELANCHOLY. it’s a hint of understanding, she thinks, a fragile crack in the wall of differences between them––––a terrifying thing, in light of her newfound desire to––––( to what ?   claim lucy as her own like some kind of primitive caveperson ? )   she’d relish having access to the inner workings of lucy’s mind, to see for herself the roots of this bizarre & resilient optimism, yet the thought of lucy studying her in return fills her with a bubbly sort of dread.

          she shudders. it’s not an entirely unpleasant feeling.

          ❝ you’re really–––– ❞ 

          they’re closer than she realized; without ever being quite conscious of doing so vivienne’s been leaning in, the better to watch as as lucy’s expression clouds over & then clears again. FASCINATION grips her all over again. rising in her throat is the insistence that the sun is a roaring furnace, nothing but a vast nuclear reactor which will eventually expand to swallow the earth whole; it does not care, shouldn’t be a source of such hope.

          she swallows it, & clasps lucy’s wrist instead.

          ❝ you’re so beautiful. really. how you think–––– ❞

          belatedly it occurs that this sounds condescending, & she eases away, cheeks stinging, gaze downcast.   ❝ it’ll be good, ❞   she whispers.   ❝ i. yes. i mean, i’ve never had friends, i don’t really––––know. ❞ 

[kcnsingtcn]

@ferocioushonesty [ ✘ ]

   “––––You know what’s completely bullshit?” She’s up an hour earlier than usual and running on less than three hours of sleep; keeping her stream of consciousness to herself while waiting in line for coffee is far beyond her current capabilities. “We don’t teach kids basic law as a matter of course. That has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, that a vast majority of high school graduates don’t have a damn clue how their governments work, local or state or federal or anything. In a democracy. What idiot thought this was a good way to run a country??”

[kcnsingtcn]

wow hi i’m alive & have Motivation again like this for a starter 

[kcnsingtcn]

maddie.

          besides hints of BITTERNESS & JEALOUSY   ( & those are for selfish, anyway ),   maddie fails to see anything wrong in vivienne’s problems. but… vivienne IS upset & that’s just not right. so she slithers over, hovering near the window.

          ❝ ‘twas alright. ❞   hesitant pause, unsure of how to proceed. she’s not very good at this, is she ??   ❝ if you… killed him you wouldn’t have these problems. & dolly is. the animal. right ? ❞

         the animal. right. fingers twist together, tighter, tighter. running through the symptoms, taking inventory––––pit in her stomach, lump in her throat, eyes blurry, head full of concrete. the animal. 

          ( the only friend she had before she met maddie––––the sole source of affection & comfort she had for the first seven, eight, nine years of her life. should have brought her to school. should’ve taken better care of her. should’ve been there tonight. ) 

         ❝ yeah, ❞   she says, flat.   ( stupid of her, to have expected sympathy. stupid–––– )   ❝ whatever. it’s not important. another dead dog. who cares. ❞   certainly not you. shouldn’t even have brought it up––––should’ve––––

        even mother––––mother !––––got choked up when she called to let vivienne know. is a little shared sorrow really that much to ask for ? 

        ❝ whatever. ❞

[kcnsingtcn]

maddie. @criticalevil​ [ ✘ ]

          ❝ so, in summary. my useless boyfriend accomplished nothing but drinking shitty beer all night, robert coleman won’t join the STUDY GROUP because it’s ‘ too much work. ’ & dolly’s dead. ❞

          forehead against the window, cold glass numbing skin. hands folded in her lap. she’s remarkably composed, she thinks, expression controlled & neutral, voice unwavering. a shitty fucking halloween, but at least she can cling to these scraps of DIGNITY.

         ❝ how was your night ? ❞

[kcnsingtcn]

usnavi.

                  he understands too late what she was aiming for, embarr-                   assment creeping up the back of his neck. he scratches                   at the skin, suddenly nervous and small in front of her, as                   he nods. ❝ — yeah, i guesso, ❞ he offers, half a smile                   tugging at the corner of his mouth. ❝ i mean, i dunno not-                   hin’ about black holes, and dark matter, but – the stars                   are kinda nice. serene, yeah? calming. gives you som-                   ethin’ to focus on when all the noise in the city drowns                   you out. ❞

                  a hand slides into his jean pocket, fingers curling against                   the denim as he breathes out. ❝ — s'a good thing you’re                   livin’ here, though, if all'a that ain’t your scene. seems like                   you made the right choice, yeah? ❞

          ❝ ––––serene, yeah. i guess. ❞   it’s non-committal, although           she returns his smile with a weak one of her own.   ❝ i didn’t           like it. the silence gets into your head in a way all the city’s          noise... doesn’t. like, traffic and chatter blend into nothingness           but in absence of that you’re left alone with your thoughts. ❞

          she shrugs, a little uncomfortable. would rather talk about the           crushing vacuum of space than get into the details of her own           mind.   ❝ wasn’t much of a choice, though, really. i grew up           here. it’s always been home. ❞

[kcnsingtcn]

wow hi i’m alive & have Motivation again like this for a starter 

[kcnsingtcn]

lucy.

          ❝ yes, you are ! look at you ! you’re pouting. ❞ she presses her face into viv’s hair, feels the coolness, the silkiness of it. her giggles make vivienne’s hair float up & she relaxes, curling, comforting. ❝ you’re pouting & you’re precious & i love you. ❞

( a moment of relaxation. but it seems those never last too long with them. she’s hesitant now. )

          runs a hand through vivienne’s hair, slowly, making sure to caress each individual strand. her teasing, playful smile fades & she’s looking over at vivienne seriously.

          ❝ i… is, is something wrong ? ❞ she can never quite tell. it scares her that she can’t, because they SHOULD be able to tell by now, shouldn’t they ? shouldn’t they ??

( makes her feel like a BAD girlfriend. )

          & so she presses a kiss to vivienne’s cheek, & then to her nose & her forehead & her chin. because whatever she did, it’s… bad, but she doesn’t know WHAT it is.

          ❝ you know mina really wouldn’t judge you. she thinks very highly of you. i’ve told her all about you. ❞

           ❝ i’m not... ❞

          too late; lucy’s caught on already, & with that the whole charade, weak as it always was, crumbles. vivienne lets out her breath in a great rush, trying even now for a weak sort of chuckle––––for see, lucy ?  i know how ridiculous i’m being––––only for that, too, to disintegrate halfway through. 

          a shudder, & she tucks her face into lucy’s shoulder, scowling at nothing. mutters,   ❝ i––––i hate french. i hate it, i–––– ❞

          ( of course her voice would choose NOW to quake. )

          of course lucy wouldn’t understand; couldn’t, perhaps. too sweet, too content, too accustomed to having been overshadowed by her oh-so-clever best friend as a child without ever knowing the poisonous taint of failure. or any number of things; vivienne, having ended up like this, can’t fathom what it would take to grow up into someone so––––

          secure.

          ❝ i’m too––––stupid for it. & everyone knows. &––––& don’t say they don’t, please, i know you’re obligated not to notice because you’re–––we’re–––what we are but. i know, i notice, i––––i feel sick just thinking about it. ❞

[kcnsingtcn]

lucy.

          ❝ i’m not lying !! ❞ & she’s not, really, she’s not, & the fact that she’s made vivienne think she’d be lying about something like LOVE is just… really, the most terrible thing. lucy’s biggest failure yet.

          she’s just… absolutely horrible. between she & vivienne, she’s the demon—– vivienne is just a soul in purgatory, perhaps, but not the cruel one, NEVER the cruel one

( although, lucy does wonder what exactly happened with charlie. why charlie evaded them. why vivienne didn’t do anything sooner. whether charlie LOVED vivienne. maybe she did. does. still does, maybe. & lucy hadn’t known. & vivienne hadn’t told her. )

          & even WERE vivienne the cruel one, does it matter ? does anything give her the right, regardless, to accuse vivienne & judge her & hurt her so ? love, love is the most important thing of the bible, mama says. lucy KNOWS. she felt it. thought she felt it. even if there is no god ( but there has to be ), there IS love & lucy knows, because she’s felt it for her family & her friends & for… vivienne…

          it’s almost like vivienne’s once more curled into herself—– ready to die. she’d FELT ready to die moments earlier. she’d dropped. & no one should feel that way, no one should ever feel that way, & lucy & vivienne are BOTH better than that, lucy knows they must be…

          & the kisses peppered all over vivienne’s face stop. lucy cradles vivienne, gently brushes away the grime & blood from her face, trying to keep the blubbering tears at bay. she kisses vivienne, & it’s not because she owes an apology ( or twenty ) or anything else, it’s because… it’s because, well, because she DOES love vivienne & she wants to show her, & saying it’s not enough, it’s not, it’s not…

          & oh, she’s breaking, resistance never more than a fragile & hastily-constructed crust; she tore down walls upon walls to be with lucy, stripped herself of defenses, made herself vulnerable with what seems now to be horribly reckless abandon. at the time it had seemed a GOOD THING, if terrifying, clawing her way out of this self-built coffin of ice to join the living, having finally found something worth living for––––& now, now it’s her undoing. she can’t withstand this warmth, this gentleness with which lucy holds her, the sweetness of this kiss.

          ( she has always been WEAK, deep down. )

          trembling fingers clutch at the fabric of lucy’s sweater, hesitance building too fast into a death grip––––this time, this time, she will not be pushed away––––although she daren’t do more than that. to pull herself closer––––to give any further sign of how terribly, DESPERATELY she needs this now might tip the scales again, might convince lucy that she hasn’t yet been punished ENOUGH. & vivienne wouldn’t survive that––––couldn’t.

          only cling, & be held, eyes still shut tight, breath & blood still frantic in their pace. more tears leak out in defiance of all lucy’s efforts to stem the tide, but even that is something she cherishes. a few seconds of peace & silence during the screaming nightmare of tonight, when it feels almost possible that everything between them hasn’t fallen to utter ruin.

          a few seconds, nothing more. a few seconds before the tide of fear &  pain & aching for death rushes in again, further tainted now with disgust at how easily lucy can ensnare her, & vivienne draws back into herself. she cannot bring herself to meet lucy’s eyes any more than she can bring herself to let go of the sweater, so her gaze travels back & forth across the rumpled, dirtied fabric, twisted as it is between her own fingers.

          ❝ please–––– ❞

          fresh heat pours down her cheeks: hot tears & rising humiliation in equal measure. she wets her lips, a flickering, nervous motion of her tongue. pathetic. pathetic. completely––––

         ❝ ––––p—please don’t. hurt me. ❞