вᴀҳимᴀли

cold heart. x. x. x.

[vilicity]

[vahimali-blog]

God, he’s heavy.

He hadn’t looked it, when they met at the bar. He hadn’t seemed in any way intimidating -- too fawning and faux-chivalrous to register as a threat. He’d only started to give her second thoughts when he tried (between the third time the knife bit into his skin and the sixth, maybe) to shove her into the bathroom wall and throttle her with his bare hands. Her own pair, blood-smeared and manicure-taloned, scrabbled at muscled forearms in the beginnings of panic before she reigned in her composure. Before she adjusted her grip on the knife’s handle and made quick work of his neck, leaving it a bloody ruin.

(And when she rubbed at her throat over his crumpled form, it was his blood she left on her skin, and her own she could feel beating heavy against her fingertips.)

Muscle is heavier than fat. Something they always say, those gym-rat types, though it’s a completely idiotic statement. A pound of muscle and a pound of fat weigh the same. It’s density that matters. This dead weight she’s dragging along is entirely too heavy for the size of him -- all that muscle. It hadn’t done him much good, in the end. And it’s making things unnecessarily difficult for her. The garbage bag he’s tied up into is surely tearing to shreds against the asphalt, and it’s only how thoroughly she bled him in the bathtub that’s stopping him from leaving a messy trail in their wake.

She’s exhausted. She isn’t stopping. Not until she reaches the river. Dumping him won’t be the same as making the problem go away forever, just long enough to throw a little uncertainty into the autopsy. No evidence of any use, just another poor bastard to add to the list. The body count of the one they’re now calling the Sinchon Slasher.

Her mouth curls around the name. It’s better than she’d ever dared to hope for. As euphonious as it is sensationalistic. Dramatic. Just like her. And it’s what has her flagging strength surging again, giving her the will to drag him those last few blocks.

These streets are deserted. She’s not worried about being found -- the only sound is the slow dragging in stops and starts as she hauls him along. Her feet on the pavement are soundless, her heels discarded in frustration in an alley some ways back. She’s so thoroughly secure in the fact that she is alone out here that it comes as a nasty shock to find she is suddenly not.

She falls quiet. Stills every inch of her body, even her breathing, lest it give her away. It’s... something strange, she’s stumbled upon. The one in the dim-lit alley in front of her is not alone, either, she registers after only a second. Her back is to Vita. And she’s standing over another, one Vita can barely see -- only that this form is unmoving on the ground. And it doesn’t take a genius to deduce that it’s their blood staining the hands of this crimson-haired stranger.

She lets the body drop, and lets out a breath.

[melisica]

Anna O.

[diiscotechjuliet]

Visit Original Link

If I Had A Heart | Fever Ray

if I had a heart I could love you if I had a voice I would sing

[lifeinpoetry]

I can be feminine in all my rage. I can be girl and woman, and claws with teeth. Watch me burn.

Venetta Octavia, from “Sekhmet, Not Pin-Up Girl,” Prelude to Light

[vahimali-blog]

ksung:

Take this test for your muse and post the results.

This quiz shall reveal the major arcana hidden within your personality. Based from the famous Playstation portable game: Persona 3 portable a.k.a. P3P, the major arcanas represent a certain stage in the life of a man. This may as well be related unto your own “persona” or how you establish a relationship with other people.

THE EMPEROR

“The Arcana is the means by which all is revealed... Only courage in the face of doubt can lead one to the answer..."  Emperor symbolizes the desire to control one's surroundings, and its appearance could suggest that one is trying too hard to achieve this, possibly causing trouble for others; some elements in life are just not controllable. Often times, you are troubled by something very personal, and doesn't know how to deal with it.

tagged by: @ksung​ like not on this kid but anyway tagging: JUST DO IT

[shinzoshokusu-blog]

—Trouvaille. . .

                                                                                                                           @vahimali

HE SEES HER AT THE BALLET.

He sees her at the opera, and again in the lobby afterward, when he is sipping idly from a champagne glass.

He sees her at the theatre when he goes to see the opening night of Tosca.

There’s hardly a night where he doesn’t manage to spot her in the crowd somewhere. If he’s out enjoying a night of culture, she’s nestled somewhere inside the building. They share the same space for so long that it becomes odd to not find her leaving a red ring on a flute full of water.

It becomes a sort of game, just picking out individual details about her from the sidelines.

Dark hair, glossy and soft regardless of whether it’s up or down, lipstick bold and memorable, silky dresses that hug the right areas - she easily fits in with the rest of the company. Or, rather, she would if anyone were to talk to her. Despite all of her attractive qualities, it’s as if she’s wearing a social repellent.

He finds it very, very interesting.

It’s after the premier of a budding writer’s first major ballet that he decides to make an approach. He crosses the room in easy strides, nodding and smiling politely to everyone that tries to stop him for a chat. It’s all inconsequential background noise.

What makes you different?

He settles next to her and begins to watch those that remain in the room, pulled into small groups save for the occasional straggler and a few waitstaff.

“It’s seems a shame that the production was not larger. The actors were spectacular.”

[vahimali-blog]

There are places Vita frequents more often than she’d care to admit -- places dark and dank, holes-in-the-wall with bathrooms more dangerous than the alleys out back, dive bars so skin-crawlingly crowded she doesn’t feel clean for hours after she’s washed the night’s evidence away. She visits these places for a purpose, one vitally important and utterly secret; but for this, she wouldn’t be caught dead in them. She’s careful never to become familiar in any of them, either -- she’s ephemeral, there and gone, never missed.

Places like this, on the other hand, are to be lingered in as long as she’s able. She soaks it up, every strand of fine-tuned violin, every impossible turn and twist and leap that has her heart in her throat and her hands clasped tightly in her lap atop program and jeweled clutch. Ballet stirs something primal in her, it always has, and to her delight she’s learned attending one delivers much the same rush as dancing it. She’s been to dozens in the few short years since an uptick in personal financial success has allowed her such luxuries.

There’s a man she’s spotted at a few of them, and other places besides -- a gallery opening here, a benefit there. She wonders if she’s become a familiar face to him, as he has to her. For once, the thought doesn’t bother her. Let him know her. Let him become fascinated with her, and fill in the blanks she presents so coolly to the world with extravagant lies. The thought amuses her.

This amuses her too. That he’s approaching her as people seldom do, joining her on the little settee she’s claimed for her own. That question’s answered, then. Leaving room for new ones -- like what this man expects to gain from engaging her in conversation. A date? Someone to brag to? The simple status boost that comes with being seen with a woman like her?

His remarks are a pleasant surprise. She’s inclined to agree. Rarely has a performance moved her the way this one had. An avant-garde retelling of a classic, tonight’s production saw Giselle recast in modern form and sensibility, with all the death and high drama of the original. One might expect that a young woman such as herself would identify with the protagonist, the titular Giselle, beautiful and tragic figure that she was. One would be wrong. As ever, it was the Wiła that captivated her -- those dread spirits who lurked in the night, restless, wronged in life and so preying on unfaithful, unworthy men in their undeath. They too were beautiful, at least the form they showed humans; beautiful and treacherous. Like her.

She smiles at the stranger -- a brilliant one, to be sure, but careful in the way one must be, so near their area of expertise. It’s all too easy to veer from impressively knowledgeable to overbearing, and first impressions always matter. Doubly so in high society.

“It is a small company, yes. Less than half the size of the National Ballet, if I’m recalling correctly, though I’m of the opinion that they make up for it in character. A bold interpretation, wasn’t it?”

She sips at her glass, letting the faint chlorinated aftertaste breathe on her tongue. For such a discriminating venue, she’s almost scandalized they hadn’t provided her with filtered water. She’d sooner substitute the taste of Chandon or Chardonnay, but tonight would call for a clear head. Just a feeling she’d had, walking in the crisp evening chill from the train station. The night felt charged, the way it did before a storm.

[jethrocane]

Personality Types

[vahimali-blog]

Name: Vita 

Western Zodiac: Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces

Chinese Zodiac: Rat, Ox, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Sheep, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, Pig

Celtic Zodiac [x]: Birch (the Achiever), Rowan (the Thinker), Ash (the Enchanter), Alder (the Trailblazer), Willow (the Observer), Hawthorne (the Illusionist), Oak (the Stabilizer), Holly (the Ruler), Hazel (the Knower), Vine (the Equalizer), Ivy (the Survivor), Reed (the Inquisitor), Elder (the Seeker)

Myers-Briggs [x]: ISTJ, ISFJ, INFJ, INTJ, ISTP, ISFP, INFP, INTP, ESTP, ESFP, ENFP, ENFJ, ESFJ, ESTJ, ESFJ, ENFJ, ENTJ, ENTP

The Four Temperaments [x]: Melancholic, Phlegmatic, Choleric, Sanguine

Enneagram [x]: Type 1, Type 2, Type 3, Type 4, Type 5, Type 6, Type 7, Type 8, Type 9

Soul type [x]: Sage, Server, Scholar, King, Artisan, Priest, Warrior 

Hogwarts House [x]: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin

[sanguevitale]

[vahimali-blog]

i. { black widow – susanne sundfør. }   ii. { cold – aqualung & lucy schwartz. }   iii. { devil’s water (reprise) – rennie foster. }   iv. { ripe (with decay) – nine inch nails. }   v. { pretty little head – eliza rickman. }   vi. { hidden place – björk. }   vii. { razor sharp – collide. }   viii. { bedroom hymns – florence + the machine. }   ix. { fresh blood – eels. }   x. { dlz – tv on the radio. }

                                ʟɪsᴛᴇɴ: { v. }