DANSE MACABRE

Lee Malkovich. 54. Photographer. Killer. Underboss for the Syndicate.

[leemalkovich]

@elenaxserrano setting: some upscale bar — london, england

At last, the pair of them exist in a world separate from the cursed universe of New York City. This, the land where Lee had been born — where he'd first killed, first loved, first been locked away — witnessing his return with a beautiful woman in his arm.

The President has business with the King, the press says. It concerns them little. Except—

"Don't tell me you're staying at the palace, darling. I find that I can bypass almost any security, but that—" Lee laughs. "Though, I'm sure his Majesty of all people would understand a need severe enough to drive one mad."

[irigy]

"oh, so it's like a gaydar, but for mental illness." he's spending too much time with tristan to even know what that word means. it's a joke, but javi almost instantly feels a certain sense of camaraderie with the other man. both of them had gone through things they would rather not speak about. or rather, javi personally wouldn't.

good thing the compliments keep coming, and his smile continues to widen at them. it's not often that he gets to indulge himself in such amusement. "you almost make it sound poetic with that accent of yours." a tilt of his head, and a rogue curl falls over his forehead, though he cares not about it. "I know the feeling. but at this point, it would take... so much more than a couple of drinks for that to happen. instead, it merely mixes with the meds, and makes me..." he shrugs as he gestures at himself, calm and pleasant, but with a hint of numbness. "sooo... how'd you like the place?"

[leemalkovich]

At that, Lee laughs. Of course, that means a yes. "Also simply a gaydar, darling. Unless I'm tragically mistaken."

In truth, he hadn't thought of Javi's sexuality until this very moment. There was an overlap — off his many years institutionalized, patterns were unavoidably drawn — but nothing which had been assumed before he'd stepped up to the position tonight.

Then, Lee smiles. His accent, posh by most standards, now manifesting through a perk or two. "So I sound like Shakespeare, do I now, darling?"

Beat.

It mixes with the meds.

Finally, a difference between the two. "I haven't taken mine in decades," Lee confesses. Two, to be exact. "It mixes only with—" With the very tip of his index finger, Lee taps at his own temple. "All this."

[irigy]

"is it so obvious?" he would hope not, but then again... he doesn't do much to conceal the fact that there is absolutely something wrong with him. his therapist would hate to hear him say that. think that, rather. he might've said it out loud. whatever.

"oh, I don't know about discussing all that without a drink in my hand first." still, consider his interest piqued. "...nor without more compliments. keep telling me how gorgeous I am." vanity is a blessing, sometimes.

[leemalkovich]

A smile makes it known: Absolutely, it is.

"It 'takes one to know one', I reckon, darling." A phrase overused — as well as underplayed. No one that hadn't experienced the horrors of a mental asylum could think to join this very conversation with them; an automatic disconnect.

If vanity's a blessing, obsession is a curse. "Gorgeous face, to match such gorgeous hands." Javier has them, indeed. "Where fine liquor would fit." Lee calls for the bartender then — placing the order to an exact request. Two glasses that match. "Alas, I avoid drinking myself. I can get quite," — a sharp smile — "erratic, under the influence."

[fatexcfxophelia-deactivated2026]

( open starter ) WHERE: at a cafe

Her drink rested untouched in front of her. A prop, more than anything. Something to justify her presence. Something to look at when people glance her way for too long.

Ophelia had purposely picked a table in the corner. It offered her perfect view across the whole place and a sense of solitude at the same time. Not quite tucked away, not quite visible either. Just the way she liked it.

Her gaze drifted, unfocused at a glance, but deliberate in truth. She watched reflections more than faces. Listened to pauses more than words. Let conversations come to her in fragments—names, places, inconsistencies slipping loose in the noise. "Sorry," she said, glancing up at the nearest person. "I couldn’t help overhearing." A slow breath left her, steady, measured. A pen and journal had already found their way to her hands. "Could you repeat that last part?"

[leemalkovich]

In such settings, Lee speaks freely — as he typically does. Were any details ugly, well, it would then be an issue for the listener. Never the teller.

Once Ophelia's presence becomes evident, everything else dissipates. There's a certain surprise to finding her here, at the same time there's not.

"I thought you were much more of a visual learner, darling," Lee says. "Alas, photography is a soundless art form, innit."

[elenaxserrano]

"I mean you're not wrong about that. A woman like me does deserve the bare minimum," Elena retorted with a grin before hearing his response when she suggested London.

Could she make it happen? Perhaps. Would she? Definitely. "Then I guess our next meeting will be in your favourite city." Elena put down her half-finished glass now and leaned towards him, her voice dropping several octaves, her lips brushing his ear. "I can't wait."

[leemalkovich]

Oh, to talk about control. As Elena leans in, voice low against his ear, all that Lee wants to do is to grab her by her beautiful face and settle their discussion with a heated, well overdue kiss.

He's infinitely intrigued. Is the status quo of her clean-cut life, the right parameters for what bleeds into personal affairs? Does she crave more of the same, or the excitement of someone who refuses to play by the same rules?

Lee does take her face then, delicate between his hands. "You, and me, and London." Leaning in, he kisses not her mouth, but the side of her face — lips connecting to the base of her ear. "Can't bloody wait, darling."

[avamhollis]

"You're so old!" she complains back, her tone more appropriate for a young girl throwing a tantrum over not getting a new toy rather than a killer forced to make a phone call. "If you listened to me and used the face ID, this wouldn't have happened," she adds in a bitter murmur.

Ava reaches for her phone but she changes her mind and, instead, kneels down next to one of the bodies. "He was gonna run away— and you taught me how to do that!" The throat-jab. Lovely memory with her boss. She drops the corpse's hand back to the ground and looks around at the scene they've caused. "And I don't need to show off, I'm already Sam's favorite," arms fold over her chest, tantrum style.

[leemalkovich]

"Go on, love," Lee encourages in that annoying way one does. "Try face ID. You look like Ronald fucking McDonald." Blood in her hair, red smeared on her face in a nearly cartoonish manner. "See if it bloody works."

You taught me how to do that. It's true, he had. How many years ago had that been? "Fancy move, innit," he grins.

Then, a face pulled the word favourite. Perhaps she is — perhaps she is not. How hurt could a killer truly be, over petty issues such as this? "...He hasn't got a favourite."

Tragically, what seems to be the truth.

[irigy]

"huh?" javi's reaction is delayed. he spaced out, as usual, glancing at the other man. more broads? just look around, there are plenty in the club to go around.

and then, he keeps going, until javi finally understands what's going on. was he talking to himself again? or did he look exceptionally away from keyboard just then? either way, this guy just caught him.

alarms don't start sounding off in his head just yet. after all, not everyone walks up to some random guy, listing off forensic psychiatric hospitals. "kirby." he smiles, head tilted to the side. impressive. "you?"

[leemalkovich]

Kirby. For whatever reason, it makes Lee smile — that twisted show of teeth — as the word is spoken. Different accents, same looney bin.

"Oh, I knew it," he comments. "You're too bloody gorgeous to be a brit." English women are one thing — but men, Lee had never been a fan. "What for?"

After a beat, he shrugs and offers — "Broadmoor," — with the neutrality of someone sharing their alma mater. Go Crows!

[elenaxserrano]

“Anywhere I’ll have it?” she repeats softly, studying him. A faint smile touches her lips, but it’s thoughtful now, a lot less teasing. "I don’t want a grand gesture because you feel guilty Lee.” Her thumb brushes once against his knuckles. “I just don’t want to be what gets set aside when things turn messy.” There’s no accusation in it. Just honesty.

“If this is you actually showing up…” She tilts her head slightly. “Then yes. One proper date.” A small pause as she weighs her words a little more. "Somewhere neutral. So maybe London would be a good choice," she teases once more with a smile.

“And for the record? I’m not still here because of the danger.” A moments passes as she inches closer herself, hating how easily she's getting swept up in the moment. “I’m here because you tried.” Will she regret this tomorrow? Perhaps but for now--it's what feels right.

[leemalkovich]

Guilty. Lee smiles at the word, because guilt is one of the many feelings he had never gotten to experiience, not in over fifty years of life — not over atrocities which, by law, he was technically guilty of.

"I don't feel guilty, darling. You're a grand woman, so a grand gesture is the bloody minimum, I reckon."

London. It's a tease, and he knows it — but not such insane of an idea. Grown adults as they are, it could be made into reality. "My favourite city."

It's a yes, from him.

[leemalkovich]

@irigy setting: the atlas room

Madness, Lee has found in all his years of hosting it inside his mind, has a way of communicating with itself across traditional earthly bindings.

And what beauty, to find it half-way across the room — Sinatra playing in the background.

"Broadmoor?" It's a long shot. A shot all the way across the pond, actually. Unlikely that this seemingly American man would have been convicted and treated all the way in England. So Lee goes on to list any and all high security — US based — mental hospitals he can think of: "Atascadero? Kirby?"

[elenaxserrano]

"Rusty or not...you didn't take me up on the offer, left me feeling rather...sidelined," Elena commented, her eyes glancing up at his over the drink, the mischievous look letting him know she was mostly just teasing.

But as soon as he closes some of the gap between them, her hand in his, those lips against her hand, she's aware that he's taking every initiative she's thrown his way. "It has...it's why I'm still here," she remarked before keeping her hand in his grip. There was a very dangerous allure to Lee and somewhere it made Elena question if that was what drew her in--or if there was something deeper than that even.

[leemalkovich]

Lee's face contorts in a way that spells out, mea culpa. With all the bloody — literal, and not — mess of leadership politics, his personal wants had fallen entirely behind. His mind, more often lost than it was found.

(Had he gone to Elena, would she have welcomed his insanity, or rejected it altogether?)

"I apologise, darling." It's all that Lee can say — all the the recognition he can offer. "It's a new year, innit. A date, the proper kind. Be it in New York, DC, London, or wherever you'll have it. How about it?"

[hasanxhilic]

"That's correct handsome, never," he answered with a smile as he looked into the male's eyes. He saw that dark eyebrows raising and he wondered what the male was thinking off. It was the truth in a way, Hasan was one that never really regretted his actions, it might not seem like it but the male does something weigh the outcome of his decisions. He smiled at the male's words. "I know one should be careful around you but you give off a vibe that is just so much interesting."

[leemalkovich]

"Careful around me?" Lee questions, head cocking to the side. "Now, where have you heard that, darling? I'm only a photographer, aye. My camera shoots photographs, not bullets."

Unless you know more than you let on, of course, written between the lines.

[philippe-rochefort]

closed starter: philippe + lee / @leemalkovich

philippe dropped into the chair, rolling his shoulders as he settles in "they always rearrange these chairs" he said, taking slow sips from his glass "never for the better" he admitted, eyes lifting briefly over the rim before he set it down "so, our guy...is he actually coming or?"

[leemalkovich]

The chairs. Frankly, Lee couldn't remember what they looked like before — much less what difference it made, in the grand scheme of things. Yet this is precisely why Philippe holds the position he does; why his thougths are valuable in the millions, while Lee's are not.

"Would you come, darling, if you were him?" Lee asks him plainly. "A brainiac and a maniac. I'd keep my bloody distance, if I could."

[avamhollis]

Admittedly, not the best case scenario.

Ava wipes her nose with the back of her hand, essentially smearing more red over her skin. "Why do I have to call him?" she asks for no other reaosn than complaining at each other is what they do best. Or— second best, to this. Ava frowns, knife still twirling between her fingers.

"Fine, and I'll tell him how you wanted to show off." Objectively untrue and extremely unlikely that Sam would believe her anyway.

[leemalkovich]

"You've got a phone!" So does he. "And your fingers are — mostly — clean." Lee holds up his own, blood-soaked hands. "Steve fucking Jobs didn't exactly account for this when coming up with the iPhone, now did he."

Ever dramatic, Lee throws both arms up in the air. "Oh, I wanted to show off." If the corpse could speak, it would certainly tell them to shut the fuck up. "Rich — absolutely golden, love — coming from lil'e miss bloody throat-jab herself."

[leemalkovich]

@avamhollis

Red, everywhere. Together, the pair stands smack in the middle of what's now an active crime scene — murder weapons in hand, and all.

"Suicide, darling," Lee barks, sibling-like, as if accusing Ava of being the sole ruiner of their plans. Needless to say, the mess that unfolded was very much a two-person type of job. "It was meant to be suicide. You call Sam and make some bloody story up. Our hands slipped." About twenty-five consecutive times.

[samburman]

Sam straightens, hands on his hips as he turns toward Lee. Hell, he even makes a face. "I asked for your blessing then, I'll ask for it now." The appeal of what floats in that jar has worn off now. In all fairness, it's not as though Sam would have much to do with it aside from assign it as a paper weight. "Keep your balls," displayed and otherwise. "How's the other woman working with you?"

[leemalkovich]

"Keep your blessings, mate," Lee says, shrugging the entire ordeal off. "If you ought to be my keeper, then be it. Have whatever you'd like."

Settling back, Lee works to light a cigarette. "We don't chat much, aye." Smoke, blown. "Frankly, I'm well past the age of retirement. Colour me surprised he hasn’t campaigned for my arse to be sent to a home somewhere."

[avamhollis]

"It's not work, it's— something else. It's pleasure!" It's definitely work. But, for people like them, the line gets blurry.

Ava pauses. That is interesting. "If you're not my boss right now, what are you?" Surely he won't say friend. They're not enemies. A secret third thing? Ava tilts her drink up to her lips and takes a sip, before offering the glass to him.

[leemalkovich]

"And I've got no wishes to pleasure you, darling." Truth be told, the very position — underboss — had been an unwanted one from the start. But so many years later, it seems like far too much trouble to seek out any changes on it. "How about a stranger?" He offers, suddenly amused by the idea. What would their dynamic have turned out like, had they met simply as Ava and Lee — not boss and employee. He takes the glass, mirrors her sip, then gives it back. "I'm Lee, by the way."

[hasanxhilic]

Hasan smiled and looked at the male. He looked into their eyes for a moment before studying their face and their lips, how the moved before just moving back slowly and licking his own lips. "I know to be very careful with my wish and I should let you know handsome. I never regret a wish," he spoke.

[leemalkovich]

"Never?" Lee asks, dark eyebrows raising. "That's quite the success rate, innit." And it almost makes him want to change that fact — to prove that he's mastered many tactics of making one regret meeting him. "We ought to see how lucky you get this time."