rectoress

[rectoress]

"It's very rude to stare."

{ @rectoress ;;

"And it's rude to go ask things and mingle in other people's business but you even get paid for it, so I think we're even."

[rectoress]

' you know if you don’t want to talk, i understand. but i just don’t think there’s anything wrong with getting a little bit of help. ' / @threecardtrick / prompt

Her gaze lifted from the paper it had been fastened to and found him from over the top of her glasses pushed down the bridge of her nose by a finger that knew exactly how much to move them. Tissaia knew exactly what ‘a little bit of help’ meant. What it entailed. What strings came attached with each word and dangled invisibly to those who were neither connoisseurs nor users of this specific and very loaded phrase. She, as it happened, was both- and rather proficiently, might she have added.

“A little bit of help,” she said again, this time securely ensconced behind the fence provided by the document in her hands and allowing herself to taste the offer in her mouth. Her lips sealed the p tightly. Not enough to preclude a faint smirk from lingering there. Help was help. Help was an honest proposition which didn't conceal anything. Help was a bare hand extended to grip another bare hand and to hold on.

‘A little bit of help’, oh now that was something else entirely. It was a proposition posing as an honest one. It was a gloved hand that might - and would- slip and let go should certain conditions fail to be met. ‘A little bit of help’ was a foot in the door. She should know, you see, as it usually was her gloved hand. Her foot.

As she put down the paper, smoothing it down three times, Tissaia subjected him to the measure of yet another gaze. “And what does ‘a little but of help’ mean exactly, Thomas Cromwell?”

[rectoress]

Clarice Lispector, tr. by Giovanni Pontiero, from "The Foreign Legion: Stories and Chronicles,"

[rectoress]

@therelentless

"I did!" Not. This coffee, it had all been Guillermo (his personal assistant), but the whole coffee thing had been his idea. This therapy, this was not for Nandor. As much as he enjoyed talking about himself and relished in the sound of his own voice, sometimes her questions made him uncomfortable and got him thinking about things he preferred to ignore. Wanting to prolong the short-lived silences of this meeting any way he could, it had been his idea to show up with some unrequested coffee for her, making it up as a small token of gratitude (was that acceptable? he didn't care), because he had gotten to the conclusion that the more she occupied herself by drinking from it, the less she would talk, therefore the fewer questions she would ask. And what did she like in her coffee, who the fuck knew, he made that a problem for Guillermo to figure it out. "You better start drinking it now before it gets cold. Might taste terrible later."

He did. “You did.” The reiteration wan't so much for him as it was for herself.  Sounding it out loud gave it shape, as if the words themselves were giving it some sort of tangible quality and making it real. 

“Well. Now then.”

Tissaia looked up, blinking away what remnants of stupor lingered on her face and in her eyes as they had stared down at the cup in her hands, and arranged her face with a careful and precise combination of gratitude and neutrality.  “This is considerate of you, Nandor.” A gesture imparting kindness and the desire to express an emotion motivated by something which hadn't centred on himself. Rather impressive. She would not, however, say this. It was her opinion, her professional one, that there was absolutely no need to dispense praise - especially not when attached to an intention crossing over the boundaries of their relationship as patient and health professional. 

“Thank you. I will.” She would have to even though she was very particular about the way she took her coffee and doubted Nandor either knew or had gone to the trouble of finding out.  She did not say this either. Instead, she sat down and delicately settled the cup on her desk. “I trust you are well since the last time I saw you.” Tissaia fiddled with the cuffs of her sleeves, sat up straighter and smoothed over non-existent creases on her lap. “Now. Tell me. Why did you do this?"

[rectoress]

❝careful there, someone might think you’re actually starting to care.❞ / @suhspiria - @thef2ll / prompt

The statement, all sharp edges and pointed corners under the soft cover wrapped around it by Stella's voice, garners a reaction if only in the rather terse pursing of Tissaia’s lips as she keeps reading. Yes, it is a reaction. One that manifests itself briefly though long enough for a seasoned observer like Stella; a fact (a fact!) that Tissaia has been aware of for quite some time now, in spite of her initial reluctance to acknowledge the very notion to herself - that Stella is now capable of reading such signs as the tightening of her mouth or the swift squinting at the corner of her eyes. It is unsettling to a degree though perhaps not as unsettling as what she just said out loud.  Not so much because it is, in fact, true but because it sounds like something so extraordinary, so out of the realm of possibilities that Sella felt it necessary to say it. 

“Why, Stella Gibson. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound surprised.”

Now, you see, the arching of her right eyebrow as she looks up, is yet another sign of her reaction but this one is entirely manufactured and means to be seen. 

“Is it that much of a shock?”

[rectoress]

PROMPTS FOR FRENEMIES,  ENEMIES TO LOVERS  AND  REFORMED VILLAINS

❝  so is that a ‘no’ to solving this with murder…?  ❞

❝  look i said i’d help you let’s not make a big thing out of it.  ❞

❝  i’m only helping you to make sure you don’t fuck it up.  ❞

❝  okay,  i’m just gonna nod and pretend to get this whole moral high ground speech you’re giving me so we can move on.  ❞

❝  i know you can be so much more than this.  ❞

❝  would you just stop treating me like something you’re trying to fix?  ❞

❝  don’t get any weird ass ideas,  i’m just here cause we want the same thing.  ❞

❝  why do you do that?  every time i think we’re getting somewhere you shut down and do something stupid to try push me away again. ❞

❝  see the thing about your plan is,  it’s not gonna fucking work.  let me do this my way.  ❞

❝  i’m only saying this once so don’t ever bring it up again,  but i actually like having you around.  you challenge me.  i like that.  ❞

❝  stop posturing and just let me help you.  ❞

❝  we do work well together,  but i don’t belong here any more than you belong where i do.   ❞

❝  okay,  i’m sick of you acting like i’ve somehow had it easier than you.  ‘cause i haven’t.  i just choose not to be a dick about my shit.  ❞

❝  you make me want to be better.  sometimes that feels good,  but a lot of the time…i feel like it’ll never be enough.  ❞

❝  i never asked you to change,  why can’t you just accept how i am too?  ❞

❝  i know you can be better—i’ve seen you be better than this!  ❞

❝  why does it matter so much to you what i choose to be?  ❞

❝  actually,  i think we rub off on each other quite well.  ❞

❝  okay if you smile at me like that one more time i’m going home you smug little shit.  ❞

❝  no— don’t start.  i’m here,  i’m making an effort.  ❞

❝  you’ve got quite the mean streak in you,  haven’t you?  i’m impressed.  ❞

❝  wow,  i didn’t think you knew how to be selfish.  ❞

❝  well,  i didn’t think you knew how to be selfless.  ❞

❝  i have a lot of regrets.  and if i’m honest,  i envy you.  you alway seem so sure of what is or isn’t right.  ❞

❝  if you would just let me speak for a moment you’d see we’re on the same side here.  ❞

❝  if you tell anyone about last night,  i’ll cut your tongue off.  ❞

❝  alright,  so we kissed.  don’t get so bent out of shape about it.  ❞

❝  are you ashamed?  about being with me?  ❞

❝  it’s not that i don’t want anyone to know about us,  i just don’t think they’d understand.  ❞

❝  i think you like being around me ‘cause you don’t quite have to be so uptight as you do with all your little friends.  ❞

❝  i can’t seem to stay away from you.  ❞

❝  alright,  okay—we’ll do this your way.  but i can’t promise there won’t be mild complaining.  ❞

❝  i said i’m fine.  go find someone who actually likes your fussing.  ❞

❝  careful there,  someone might think you’re actually starting to care.  ❞

❝  it’s fine,  you wouldn’t be—well,  you,  if you could do something like this.  that’s why i’m here isn’t it?  ❞

❝  you brought me along because i can do things you can’t handle.  so just let me do my part then,  yeah?  ❞

❝  no, lets find another way.  ❞

❝  someday,  you’re gonna have to learn there isn’t always another way.  there isn’t always a right answer.  ❞

❝  before i met you,  i used to understand where i stood on everything.  now it’s all…mixed up.  ❞

❝  the world has never been black and white,  you’re just starting to see the grey for the first time.  ❞

❝  you don’t have to do this,  let me do it for you.  ❞

❝  no,  we’ll do this together.  ❞

❝  i’m not heartless,  you know.  i just don’t see the point in wearing it on my sleeve all the time.  ❞

❝  i don’t think you’re weak,  by the way.  in fact,  in some ways you have strengths i’d never be able to possess.  ❞

❝  just because i don’t do things the way you do doesn’t mean i’m wrong.  ❞

❝  i do trust you.  you’ve earned that.  ❞

❝  oh god,  don’t look at me like that.  i’d rather you just be angry than do the whole disappointed face.  ❞

❝  i didn’t let you down,  i don’t answer to you!  ❞

❝  why can’t you just try to have a little hope?  ❞

❝  i may live to regret saying this,  but i agree with you actually.  ❞

[rectoress]

Witcher Week Day 1: favorite character

Tissaia de Vries

[rectoress]

Wishing him all the best in this particular endeavour ✌️🫶

ooc;; giving nandor a silly high school crush on @rectoress just to be annoying.

[rectoress]

@thef2ll

To: Stella Gibson Alcohol is a disinhibitor. Your behaviour under the influence is hardly surprising but it does not necessarily mean that it was wrong of you to let her know what you wanted. - Tissaia

To: Stella Gibson A relationship? I didn’t think that’s what you were after when you made a move on her. - Tissaia

To: Stella Gibson I am here to see you, of course. I do know you’re busy though so I have made some work related appointments. There are people I need to see. - Tissaia

rectoress​.

to: stella gibson You cannot tell me all of this and then demand that I ignore it. If that was the case, Stella Gibson, you would have deleted the text before sending it. - Tissaia

to: stella gibson Do you think it’s a bad idea to ask her again? Perhaps somewhere less crowded? - Tissaia

to: stella gibson I know it is, I’ve been following the news closely. You look exhausted. I’ve just landed in Belfast, by the way.- Tissaia

    to:  tissaia de vries.

Perhaps it was the heat of the moment. Too much liquid courage. You know how I get sometimes when I’ve had a bit too much. Start raving on about things I should shut up about.

    to:  tissaia de dries.

She was brought up in Croydon. That’s all you need to know. I don’t think she’s ready for… a relationship, at least not one with a woman. Newly divorced, two children.

    to:  tissaia de vries.

You’ve just landed? Here? What are you doing here. Miss Tissaia De Vries.

[rectoress]

"one of us has to die." / @therelentless / prompt

“Must you be so dramatic?”

By now she has grown used to Nandor’s theatrics and should not feel the need to point out such egregious behaviour; yet here she is, proffering an opinion about it in the guise of a question whose rhetorical nature will, no doubt, be ignored and answered with some sort of snarky observation intended to irritate her. And it will. It will irritate her though it ought not to because it will remind her that she should have disregarded his comment. Tissaia hates being the cause of her own vexation.

Extending her arm, she pushes her bishop forward with the tip of her right index finger. “Though I suppose my taking your queen will feel as though you’re dying now, won’t it?” The corner of her mouth tugs into half a smirk she makes no pretence of hiding. “Careful, there.”

[rectoress]

PROMPTS FROM THE HUNGER GAMES *  assorted dialogue from the 2012 film, adjust as necessary

i think it's our tradition.

it's been the way we've been able to heal.

i think it's... something that knits us all together.

you were just dreaming.

they're not going to pick you.

try to go to sleep.

i just gotta go. but i'll be back. i love you.

what are you gonna do with that when you kill it?

i was gonna sell it.

now i have nothing.

what if everyone just stopped watching?

it's as simple as that.

i'm not laughing at you.

we could do it, you know? take off. live in the woods.

we wouldn't make it five miles.

i'm never having kids.

guess the odds aren't exactly in my favor.

you keep it. it's yours.

aww, look at you. you look beautiful.

wish i looked like you.

as long as you have it, nothing bad will happen to you, okay? i promise.

freedom has a cost.

this is how we remember our past. this is how we safeguard our future.

you're stronger than they are. you are.

they just want a good show. that's all they want.

whatever you do, don't let them starve.

you know if you don't want to talk, i understand. but i just don't think there's anything wrong with getting a little bit of help.

so when do we start?

know, in your heart, that there's nothing i can do to save you.

you made me spill my drink.

i think i'll go finish this in my room.

you'll freeze to death first.

can you pass the marmalade?

you really wanna know how to stay alive? you get people to like you.

are there any surprises that we can expect this year?

i'm sorry that this happened to you, and i'm here to help you in any way i can.

you're here to make me look pretty.

i'm gonna do something that they're gonna remember.

don't be afraid.

why don't you go clean yourselves up a little before dinner?

i didn't touch your knife!

i hear you can shoot.

i hope you noticed we have a serious situation.

loosen your corset and have a drink.

i thought they hated me.

don't you know how beautiful you look?

just be yourself. i'll be there the whole time.

i'm prepared, vicious, and i'm ready to go.

do you want to tell us about it?

do i smell like roses to you?

you don't talk to me, and then you say you have a crush on me?

he made you look desirable.

we are not star crossed lovers.

look for water. water's your new best friend.

give me your arm.

we need a signal, in case one of us gets held up.

if you can't scare them, give them something to root for.

everyone likes an underdog.

i'm not gonna leave you.

nobody's gonna find you in here.

we'll just get you some medicine.

i should have gone to you.

i remember the first time i saw you.

[name], you're not gonna risk your life for me. i'm not gonna let you.

now there's no way i'm letting you go.

go on. i'm dead anyway. i always was, right? i didn't know that until now.

it's the only thing i know how to do.

there has been a slight rule change.

one of us has to die.

i'm sorry it didn't go the way they planned.

i couldn't imagine life without him.

they must be very proud of you.

so what happens when we get back?

i don't want to forget.

[rectoress]

Educational poster with nineteen images of the calyxes of different plant species. 

University of Groningen, Biologisch Centrum

[rectoress]

written by Juniper.

[rectoress]

MISCELLANEOUS.           beauty hath strange power.

[rectoress]

MYANNA BURING as TISSAIA DE VRIES

[rectoress]

everstride​:

“Not at all.”    That earns a curl to her lips,  barely hidden as she drags her glass away from her lips,  sight not once wavering from soaking in the other woman.  There was an admiration;  a sense of comfortability and ease in the other woman’s presence that Laura struggled to find with most.  Labelled the life of the party,  always holding centre of attention to tell tales or jokes that are put on for show with pearly whites and jet black hair.  She liked pleasing people,  a rush coursing through her body.  But even she grew tiresome of the never-ending same old,  same old.  Everyone too afraid to teeter beneath the surface;  did she expect any less in her field of work?  They never spoke of the level of loneliness Journalism could bring you to;  a quiet room made out of glass that feels all too insufferable as you watch the world pass you by.  All too focused on the stories they pry from unsuspecting victims to distribute out into the world.    “I hope you have interest in watching me sober.”    There’s no missing the underlayer of flirtation,  letting a pause hang between as she takes a small sip.    “I’ve probably hit my limit for the week,  so this should be my last.”

A quirk of her brow,  almost squinting as she listens to the other.    “Are you trying to prescribe me?  Because I think I know where the limit stands.”    There’s no sigh,  no roll to her eyes,  just something much too expressionless.    “I think you’re mistaking me with somebody else.  I’ve already been dragged from that closet against my will,  twice.  I could have easily let it turn me into someone unrecognisable.  Not a lot of people come back from that or even get as far as I did.  If anything,  I took their power with me.”    Does she believe it?  At first she hadn’t,  the world seemingly too much,  and not just in Television,  but Journalism.  She’d found her place,  what motivated her and made life worth moving.  Until it was ripped out from under her,  raw and exposed she stood facing the world.  A wound that hung deeper than necessary,  a betrayal she’s worked to overcome;  despite the lingering ache every now and again.  You expect it so willingly, Laura.  Her therapist had said.  Always anticipating the ball dropping,  holding the door wide open rather than shutting it behind herself.  Did it ease the heartache inside?  Make it bearable if she believed to have seen it coming?  But she also couldn’t afford to continuously put her heart out on the line,  not after all she’d been through,  not with how frail and inconsistent it could be.    “Do you have anything to hide?  Do you fit into those who resort to unspeakable things,  or do you let the world put you under a microscope?”

"I have every interest in watching you sober." For reasons already stated. There might be others that Tissaia will not express out loud mostly because she has never entertained that kind of blunt, obnoxious and, yes let's say it, crass proclivities but also, partly, because she hasn't quite reached a conclusion where Laura is concerned. Though that particular brand of decision is best left to the governance of less rational factors, Tissaia is troubled somehow, aware on some, she'd be inclined to admit, subconscious level that she ought to proceed with caution, take the full measure of the woman, collect enough data to gauge and weigh and dissect every single shred of it in order to settle the entire matter in a manner that cannot be anything but entirely satisfactory and foolproof. A smile cuts across her mouth. "I know who you are and what happened to you." Head tilting, Tissaia hums almost imperceptibly then shifts to pick up her glass and lose herself in a brief contemplation of its contents. "It certainly did take courage to put yourself back in the lion's den." She looks up, eyes sharp in their scrutiny of every line etched around Laura's. "Is that why you did it? To keep the power you'd taken from them? To make a point?" The world of television, of her kind of journalism, is vast enough and Laura could have worked anywhere and with anyone. Tissaia samples her vodka, puts the glass down, taps the tip of her index finger against the rim. "Now I wonder whether it was courage or perhaps -" The look she casts Laura now embraces her fully in long and slow strokes of her eyes along the length of her arms, hands, torso, face again. "Revenge. Or retribution. I wouldn't blame you."

And though that isn't entirely true, Tissaia being staunchly entrenched in beliefs of justice and neutrality in all matters however personal those might be, she finds it strangely enjoyable, almost comfortable, to humour her - if there is such a thing to entertain. Laura doesn't strike her as either petty or unethical but she is a journalist, and a publicly humiliated one at that. "Who's asking?" The smile touching half of her mouth reaches her eyes with a healthy dose of scepticism. "Neither," Tissaia says before she takes another sip and puts the glass down to occupy her hands with a meticulous and efficient adjusting of her cuffs. "I don't resort to anything unspeakable nor do I believe placing me under a microscope would wield any unsavoury results." Not herself per se, no, Tissaia de Vries is cautious and perceptive enough to maintain an impeccable front. Her methods, on the other hand, and the way patients are handled and treated at her clinic might be deemed borderline by the current school of medicine and psychiatry. Attempts were made to oust the board and to remove her along with those now considered obsolete - although that isn't that never was the exact term they bandied, words being all it took nowadays to sully one's reputation and bring about the utter ruin of one's career and achievements. "I'm a psychiatrist," she eventually adds, her fingers now busy around her neck. "I specialise in the care of girls and young women stuck in the foster care system."

[rectoress]

MyAnna Buring as Tissaia THE WITCHER (2019– )