#Intoxicating Madness ❤ PATH: POISONER;

[thislovelylady]

@illuseroe​

“Hey, take a break,” Lenora poked her head into his office, simultaneously knocking on the open door to make sure she had his attention. “Everyone else has gone home so you’re the only one left to celebrate with me. Come on, I found where the marketing team keeps their wine.”

And out she popped again, heading into the common room between offices. She didn’t know Bloom super well, but she knew him enough to know he would appreciate her recent accomplishment. They got along well, having a similar drive with their work.

[thislovelylady]

@mortiiicia

Lenora had been raised to enjoy the presence of plants more than people. The small, frail blooms in the potted plant by her window kept her company when she hid from her father's abusive words and actions. They were her friends. They would never hurt or demean her. Their silence was relieving and her devotion kept them alive. It was a lovely relationship.

But despite all that, they still could not protect her entirely. Especially not her mind. Eventually, the desire to be free overwhelmed the fear her father had instilled in her. Eventually, she left those plants behind because she only had one chance to flee.

So she dumped them out on the floor so that they wouldn't have to live without her. 

She fled, she wandered, she did what she could to survive between women's shelters. She read books and watched what TV she could, absorbing everything within her grasp. She was a fast learner, at least, and had always been rather clever. Absorbing knowledge like a sponge, she learned all she could in order to make ends meet.

Cleaning, cooking, even some manual labor kept her alive. She had been living like this for three years now.

"...dreadful, horrfifying plant monster! She fed it what must have been half a pig, at least!”

“Aw, cut it out. We all know you’re full of crap.”

“I’m not! I swear! She called it a -- an African Strangler or something!”

The young woman slowly turned around in her booth, poking her head over the top to stare at the adjacent seated guests, who were speaking behind her.

“...Excuse me,” she started, polite but oddly intense. “Are you describing a plant that...eats meat?”

The man was happy to tell her everything, seeing as how she was the only person willing to believe him. He explained how he had visited an ‘eerie’ family known as the Addamses regarding a noise complaint, which led to the family matriarch inviting him for tea in her greenhouse. There, presumably as an intimidation tactic, she introduced him to her African Strangler.

Needless to say, if he wasn’t lying, Lenora’s attention was captured. She asked him where this house was, and an hour later, she was standing just outside the intimidating Addams Family estate. She almost laughed as she took it all in: a structure straight out of a horror movie! It was so... so... on brand?

The gates even creaked open on their own! This time, she did laugh. She knew she probably be frightened, but she just couldn’t seem to be. Automated or haunted? She didn’t care. She sort of loved it.

Approaching the large double doors, she hunted for the doorbell and then eventually rang it. The odd foghorn -like response made her laugh again. How amazing this all was!

She was very much excited to meet the family who thrived in such a place.

[thislovelylady]

The scent of Phoenix Wright’s skin was intoxicating. Every slow inhale filled her senses as his heart beat at a steady pace beneath his chest, slowed just enough to keep him under as she basked in the moments she had with him. Every exhale as a regret -- a reminder that he would eventually awake, and the quiet peace she treasured would be marred by alarm. Confusion. Fear.

Phoenix Wright had nothing to fear, however. She loved him. She had loved him for awhile now and would never allow anyone to harm him. That was why she had taken him here, far away from the bustle and dangers of Los Angeles; it was so much safer, so much more private here. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. His body was so warm; the first time she lay with him, she had goosebumps from the sensation alone. She didn’t get much in the way of physical contact lately, but it felt so natural to be curled up against his side. It would be even nicer when she could finally unbind his wrists and ankles. She hoped that day wasn’t too far off.

She hesitated, then adjusted his arms so that they were rested over her shoulders, amost as though he held her himself. Ah, it felt so right! She was blushing, even, at the thought of it being more voluntary in the future. Surely, once she explained everything, he would understand why she had done this He would sympathize with her, and maybe even love her back! After all, she was confident in her ability to make him happy and satisfy his needs.

And if he didn’t love her back... well. No. No, that wasn’t an option. That wouldn’t happen. Surely, he would love her back. It might take time, but he was an intelligent man. He was always sympathetic with the defendants he worked for, after all. If he could find compassion for people accused of murder, then he could definitely find it with a shy girl who kidnapped him unharmed!

Yes. Yes, that was exactly what would happen. He would stir, and be afraid, but then he would calm when she told him her story. How long she had been watching him. How much she needed him in her life...

Moving now to rest her head against his chest, she listened to his heartbeat. Still awfully slow; so he must still have had a lot of the medicine in his system. In that case... she shut her eyes, now focusing on the sound of his blood pumping through his lovely veins.

She couldn’t wait for him to wake up.

[thislovelylady]

The creepiest thing about you.

You Are A Disturbing Control Freak

Caring for people and things does not work the way you think it does. You are so invested in making sure that everything around you is perfect that instead of showing you care, you plan and control without asking for any input (which, of course, you justify by telling yourself that you aren't burdening anyone else with extra work). You show dedication and attention to everything the same way you would a bonsai tree: meticulous maintenance, control, planning, and foresight. You call this “dedication,” but it's not - it's needing personal control so badly that you've confused it for real connection - which is not really a great quality in a friend, but a very helpful quality in an aspiring serial killer.

tagged by: @absolutelaw

tagging: WHOEVER READS THIS

[thislovelylady]

@carriietta

There were few reasons for someone to be out here late at night, alone, in the rain... but not someone like her. This girl looked like she was fifteen. A runaway, maybe?

Heh. Same. 

Drawing her fingers back through her hair, she approached the girl she had been watching for an hour. She looked nervous the moment she stepped off the bus and had just seemed to...wait.

“Hey, kiddo.” Lenora had climbed out of her car, opened up her umbrella, and approached the teen with a look of concern. “Last bus left the station twenty minutes ago. Are you waiting for someone?”

She held the umbrella half over her, too. She looked like a street urchin.

[thislovelylady]

Lenora didn’t have a lot to live for. Not in this life, at least. She had a lot to think about while she stared at those blank, padded walls. 

If her mother hadn’t passed away when she was born, would she have had a sibling? If her father had just given her to an orphanage, would she have been loved by someone else? If that same father hadn’t kept her locked up and beat her every day since she was six, would she not have developed similarly violent tendencies?

If he hadn’t turned his back, would he still be alive...?

It didn’t matter, she supposed. Not after being labeled ‘troubled’ and locked away for doctors to poke and prod at her brain. As if they really needed to learn more about what he did to her -- it was already in the police report!

She was listless. Empty. She didn’t know the world outside and the people in this building were only paid to keep her breathing and docile. There was no reason to get better. No reason to reform herself. No reason to speak, really.

She was just sitting there, aging, wating to die. She did that for years.

“All right! Here’s your ticket. Enjoy the show!”

“Thank you.” Head bowed, she accepted the slip of paper before proceeding into the theatre. Outwardly, that dead-eyed expression and polite demeanor looked the same as the day she checked out of the institution; deep down, however, she felt more alive than she had ever been.

Hyun Ryu, 23. Stage Name ZEN. An up-and-coming star who is as beautiful as he is talented!

Eyes scanned the program, sparkling with silent interest. She first laid eyes on ZEN indirectly, after a nurse put on a recording of his performance in the main room. It probably wasn’t appropriate, but it was late that evening and the head doctor was off on vacation. A treat for the hard-working ladies of the ward, she had called it. Little did she know, it was a treat for Lenora, too.

For days, she contemplated her response to the gentleman on stage: he was handsome, yes, and a talented actor. She had watched -- no, rather, she had absorbed plenty of movies with dashing protagonists before. What was the difference here?

After repeated viewings of his interviews and research into him as a person, Lenora finally came to the conclusion that it was something deeper: his passion. ZEN had a light inside him that shined vibrantly whenever he was in front of an audience; something she found herself longing for. He was so confident, so proud of his life choices and his goals.

She was full of little else but void and cold.

That warmth... she wanted it. She wanted it in whatever form she could possess.

So, in a matter of weeks, she ‘snapped out of’ her vacant daze and ‘made a full recovery’ so thoroughly that doctors addressed it as miraculous. Now well over eighteen, she walked out and competently managed to seize her family home, their assets, and most importantly -- her inheritance.

Then she began to research. Feverishly, she scoured the internet for every detail of ZEN that she could find. Suddenly she had a very strong goal in life -- to meet him. To know him. To ensnare him so that the radiance of his light belonged solely to her.

And she deserved it, didn’t she? After everything she had been thriough. ZEN seemed like a kind man. He would understand. She would convINCe hIM.

Her thoughts spun as the play progressed, paying attention only to the parts where he came out on stage; it was easier to get a ticket to performances where his part was minor. Fewers fans, smaller crowds... more importantly, minimal security.

She watched his every move. Heard every inflection in his voice. Felt the depth of every emotion expressed...

To hear it in person made her shiver. She would have him. There was no other choice. It simply had to be.

Lenora slipped out ten minutes before the play’s completion; the night was almost over, and so any worker’s guard would have long since dropped to a minimal effort. Looking comfortable, she slipped into a ‘staff only’ door and made her way towards the dressing rooms.

Fortunately, ZEN’s was unlocked. 

As she suspected, ZEN didn’t ride his motorcycle to the theater because of its proximity to his home. She waited until he passed her, barely a block away from his place of residence, before ‘hurrying’ to catch up in the middle of the night!

“Excuse me!” She called out, and he stopped to turn around as she jogged up, flushed and innocent. “I-I’m sorry, but I think you dropped this -- “

She offered out a palm, which held his house key; surprised it had fallen out but grateful she had returned it, he thanked her and took it back. For a few minutes, she tittered on about being a huge fan, and he even signed her program for her; then, looking uncomfortable, she went on:

“A-Actually, before you go... I’m kind of not feeling well. This is really embarrassing, but do you think I could use your restroom?”

ZEN was so kind. Of course he would say yes. Of course he would allow her into his home, point out the bathroom, and leave her to her privacy.

The cold water ran and she splashed some on her face before slowly looking up to stare at her reflection. Despite taking up the role of a normal young woman rather flawlessly, it was impossible for her to see anything but the cruel eyes of her father staring back at her.

Perhaps this way, now, she would be able to get rid of them. ZEN’s honest, warm passion for life would be hers. He would be HERS.

And look at that. Look at how easily he had let her into his home. So comfortable already with her. No fear. No look of terror. No moody whispers. He was kind and talented and handsome and sweet and warm--

Her palm twitched, hovering over the pocket knife in her jacket pocket. 

I wonder if his heart will feel just as warm...

[thislovelylady]

@maenadia

If there was one thing Lenora truly hated about this entire affair, it was that she wasn't getting any credit for her work. Not the death, not the struggles of war, no -- what did it matter to her? She wasn’t on the frontlines. She was nestled comfortably in her husband’s house, dressed in fine clothing and fed meals that were always tested for poison -- by the servants, of course.

To anyone else, she was Lord Russell Jorin’s well-bred wife, known for her eloquence and intelligence and beauty. Or something like that. She didn’t pay much attention to the matters. Truth be told, she had been engaged and wed to the man because of her father’s influence as a wealthy merchant, and she agreed to go along with it solely to get away from him.

Russell was harmless, if not inattentive. Too busy attempting to save lives of some while ending others (the hypocrite) in the name of his King. Lenora, as always, remained indifferent to most current events and monarchs and laws. Science was her god and the only thing she ever  sought out for herself was knowledge -- no matter the costs.

When her husband’s side began to lose against the invaders, she seized the opportunity to strike a deal with him -- leave her to her experiments, and she would provide his armies with the means to annihilate those with greater numbers. The poisonous gasses and other biological weapons she created did not take long to sway him, and now she was relatively content with her life...outside of Russell claiming the mixtures as his own. He said that men would not trust a woman’s invention on the battlefield, and she understood -- but still, it irritated her beyond all measure. Perhaps she would teach them a lesson or two when all the fighting was done--

“--My lady!” One of the guards burst into her lab and she spun on her heel, already tossing a vial of acid in his direction in irritation.

“What have I said about interruptions?!” she hissed, irritated that her toss had missed him.

He yelped all the same, “My apologies, my lady, but we are under attack! His Lordship requires you be escorted to the keep at on--”

Before he could finish, the man was cut down, and his body fell into the acid that had landed at his feet with a sharp sizzle. Swearing, Lenora took a step back --