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@vikvahl
How many shots would it take for you to sleep with Lara ?
"She's a very pretty girl." And Viktoriya would do it sober, but, "One shot — because shots make everything better."
sex+romance headcanons! — RAHI | HANS | JULIAN | LEE | ANAÏS | TRISTAN | VIK
@lararivkin
😘 Would my muse have sex on the first date?
Oh, yes.
sex+romance headcanons! — RAHI | HANS | JULIAN | LEE | ANAÏS | TRISTAN | VIK
Aria raises an eyebrow at the declaration, but doesn't make a comment about it - instead enjoying the drink she gets apparently with no extra charge to her. She does laugh, though. "God, a decade." As if realizing that it has been.
"We all have those nights, I figure - too much or too little on the brain." For Aria, it always just edges on too much. No matter what, her mind is always churning - and not always focusing on the correct thing. "Fiction..? What kind, if you don't mind me asking?"
And then to answer her question - "A break tonight. Trying to recharge since I seem to have found myself in a rut."
A lot of people ask, and they do so often. Viktoriya doesn't always answer. Except now as she eyes the girl for a long while, and no good excuse comes to mind. She wants to talk to her — ruling whatever subject as unimportant.
"It's a murder mystery," she starts, clicking her pen ready then unready, mindlessly and in a loop. "Psychological, to some extent. More of a 'Why dunnit' then a 'Who dunnit'."
Unmentioned, is how frequently Viktoriya had changed her mind — no doubt, enough times to drive her editor up a wall.
"How does a photographer find herself in a rut? 'If you don't mind me asking'." Aria's words, shot back in reverse. She sips her vodka, then, "No interesting subjects?"
GILLIAN ANDERSON as BEDELIA DU MAURIER — Hannibal (2013)
"It's better in mixed drinks." Aria laughs, but nods. It's not for everyone. "Might be the salt - lime's a godsend." When the bartender slides up to take her order, she orders just her usual - tequila sour on the rocks.
Taking a sip, she has to fight not to laugh through it. "God, haven't heard that one since high school." Her own notepad is in her purse and she itches to grab it and just - write whatever ideas come to mind. She's purposefully trying to let go for a night. "Are you taking a night off or just looking to get the juices flowing?"
Viktoriya's about to hand in her card, when the bartender offers her usual out loud: "Vodka?"
"You got it, Billy." And as for Aria— "She's with me."
High school. Viktoriya laughs, "Which I both hope was yesterday," for her own ego's sake, "and also a decade past." For her attraction's sake.
Her notebook rests on the bar counter, pen tucked into it. She lifts it Aria's way, doing a little show of turning it under the light. "I was hoping to edit, but before I even took a seat, I could tell I was barely going to get a comma in."
Beat. "It's a book I'm writing. After so many years in journalism, I decided to try out fiction."
"What about yourself?"
Athena put on her most charming grin at Viktoriya’s comment. Yes, she remembered now, that was the journalist’s name and one of Russian origin that Konstantin may have considered for Lilia if he’d had more of an input (in general, that is).
“Well,” she then smiled gratefully, perhaps feigning modesty. “I’m a down-to-earth kind of woman, but I do like excitement every now and then. But being exciting? Depends you who ask… You are right, however, the world will always be that way and at least that’s one constant in life. Everything else is so unpredictable and frightening… but that could be exciting too and that also depends on who you ask. Funny, isn’t it? How us humans are the same and yet so different.”
Athena took a sip of coffee. “What about you? I’m certain you must have done and seen some exhilarating things in your line of work.”
"To play devil's advocate," Viktoriya starts, "often times the ones who don't take themselves as trouble-makers are the ones making all the trouble."
She removes the lid off her coffee up only to stir it some, then sip the steaming liquid. "So different," she agrees. "What was the most exciting thing you did last? You talk as though you have stories."
In crossing a leg over the other, Viktoriya also shifts slightly, facing the other woman fully now. "Ah, yes. I have seen a lot of exciting things, then written about it. I'm an observer, not a protagonist. Most times." A well-placed wink, there. "I saw a lot of war, back when I started. Now, I suppose I still see war, but it's a lot more subtle. Roars have turned into hisses. Lions have given way to snakes. I couldn't have predicted it," — except she did — "but here we are."
He might fascinate you. I despise him with every fiber of my being.
"Students at Columbia has heard far worse, I'm afraid." Ha! Eva could recall several slip ups in their education system that could've been prevented, if the hierarchy paid less attention to witty comments, and more to overly touchy elderly men in designer cardigans.
She's never been big on vodka, even if her family sworn by it, even when she downed a couple of shots with her eyes shut tight, courtesy of her cousin, when she was at her lowest. Vodka wasn't an editing tool for her, if anything it was an inevitably inheritable vice that came with the Movska gene. Surprisingly It might have skipped a child.
Her hand reached for the glass of wine, "They've seen far worse too."
"Your relatives do teach at Columbia," Viktoriya notes. "Are they included in your observations?"
Busy with her own lectures, Viktoriya hadn't found the time — or the interest — to sit through a chemistry or philosophy class. Reviews are all she has.
Like most, in their crowd.
"Is that a professional opinion?" It's a poke. Zed rarely finds the humour, but Viktoriya is not Dr. Batrum still talking about an outdated thesis. He knows Vahl, dare he consider he doesn't actually dislike her company.
Even if they get satire. "You haven't been here long."
"If I'm a 'professional', isn't everything I say a professional opinion?" She winks. "Here where, Movska?" There's always friendly competition, between scientists and journalists, and who can be the most precise. "The party? Columbia? New York City? America?" Viktoriya shrugs, and waves it all off — metaphorically as well as literally so. "I have been 'here' longer than you have." Earth, the universe, this miserable plane of existence. "I was gargling vodka while you were still a babe."
THE FALL | 2013-2016 2x03 - “It’s Always Darkest”
Athena’s mood change when she was referred to as ‘pretty’. Well, not directly, but she chose to believe as such. She would say that her new companion was also very pretty, but that was too weak of a word. Beautiful came closer, but even that didn't feel quite right. Athena was certainly enticed by her dress sense and even her bright but stern gaze.
"You and me both," Athena replied with an amused smile. "And to me it's not controversial. I'd rather have a woman for company than a man any day." And in more ways than one.
“A lecture?” She then echoed, pausing to sip her coffee. “Oh, I know you. You were a journalist, right? Or still are."
Athena has always been on the fence with journalists. The press had reported on her and Konstantin's chaotic divorce all those years ago (horrible things, empathetic things, you name it) and had been writing about her since; usually in terms of her philanthropic work, thank God, but every now and then they liked to stir up a little drama. High society always made for juicy stories and that was just something Athena had to put up with.
"We already have one very important thing in common, then," she says.
While Viktoriya didn't expect to be recognized, it's far from a bad thing that it turned out so. "...I haven't made up my mind myself," she says, a faint smile there. "Anytime I think I'll stop, the world gets exciting again."
And as any good journalist worth her name, this woman doesn't strike as unfamiliar either. But she'd have to dig through the archives — after this long, everyone looks like someone she's seen before. Hundreds of thousands of faces, a million stories between them.
"You look like someone who makes the world exciting."
Aria rubbed a little unceremoniously at her face, attempting to rub some of the weariness out of her eyes. Despite all the changes over the last few months, her sleep schedule has still been suffering the most - anxiety still, but more from wanting to do more. Which meant taking on extra work at her 'real job' to make up for the lackluster performance.
She doesn't expect Vik to plop down right next to her and she blows out a breath of air as she glances down at (and quickly away) the notebook. "Haven't tried it, but I hear it's killer." She nods towards some others a little more.. plastered. Forcing herself to look more relaxed, cordial, she opens up her posture a little more.
"A little tequila and Lightroom works wonders for me." But. "Columbia admin can eat shit." Multitude of reasons, considering the last week or so.
Their surroundings do look like a warzone of the alcoholic kind; tabs ran high early into the night.
As for tequila, Viktoriya makes a face, "I could never stomach it. Or maybe it was the lime. Or the salt," she laughs. "My body isn't one to reject alcohol."
She gets onto a stool then, eyeing Aria as she crosses one leg over the other. "I heard they have been. You are what you eat, no?"
A day of meetings required a night of alcohol and the company of women she wouldn't bother remembering the name of. Lilia wasn't known for denying her indulgences, and the slightly untidy state of her hair spoke of early liaisons in the dark corners of the bathroom. Now, on her third martini, she scoffs. "The fools in Colombia wouldn't know reason if it bit them in the arse." Accent strong caused by the alcohol flowing in her veins, she wouldn't know her words from lie to truths; she is an Oxford baby through and through.
"Is the special ever special, here? I wouldn't guess." A sly smile on plum lips carried the jab at the poor bartender dealing with her the past hour. He pays her no mind. "I gather the only special thing here is the incredible people I get to meet," she turns slowly to the woman, holding out her glass in a mock salute as her smile morphs into her trademark smirk, "wouldn't you agree?"
"And I've tried," she says, candid enough that it could very well be true. "Turns out, their arses are very boney."
It's a best case scenario. No underpaid workers, or overworked students to grace the scene. Just a very beautiful woman, next to whom she's glad to take a seat next to.
Viktoriya considers it. "Not always." Yet after eyeing the blonde for a moment, a smile slowly forms, "...But tonight, yes."
GILLIAN ANDERSON as DSI STELLA GIBSON in every episode of The Fall [9/17] 2.04 — The Mind is its Own Place (2014)
GILLIAN ANDERSON for Harper’s Bazaar.
open to: all capping at four (4) .
She'd walked herself from the university straight to the bar. Late lecture, to a small but ferocious group of young wannabes. Beelines for the bathroom where she makes use of the mirror to get her hair back in order. Her pantsuit isn't as sharp now as it'd been that morning, but some things are beyond quick salvation.
Back out there, she studies the bar and its displayed bottles. "Anything special, about tonight's 'special'?" A small leather-bound notebook is placed on the counter, in waiting. "The best editing tool is vodka, not an eraser. I received a warning from Columbia for saying that."
@zedechemist setting: evening, university get-together "You're a professional." (from here)
It could be in reference to her extensive curriculum, but Viktoriya feels in the cold of her hand that it's more to do with the vodka soda she'd drained down to nearly half, already.
"Yes," she says, with a small laugh. It's more comfortable, out here in the balcony. At her age, the alcohol hits the same, yet her skin feels warmer than it did way back when. "And you're on your way, too."
