chimonai

[chimonai]

        Deep sits the needle of disappointment, filling her tepid veins with ire, simmering, threatening to boil over. Once before she put her life into the hands of her twin. Once before she came to regret that decision. Yet some small, regrettable part of her wants to entertain the notion she could follow through with their plan, just this once.   “Iris...”   Her sister’s name falls from her lips with a sigh.   “A gift exchange, really? That’s your big plan?”   Dahlia joins her by the vanity, arms folded lightly, regarding her with a disapproving look that was carved right from their mother’s features. From within the mirror, something kinder stares back, something that lacks her fangs, her claws, her venom. What will her sweet sister ever win from her demurity? Dahlia will never know.   “What could you possibly give him that will make him give up my necklace?”  /  @shinigxmi-muses​, cont. from here.

#shinigxmi-muses #* ∙ ✿◞ v. ivy university. #omg hi!!!! i'm so excited to see someone writing iris #just know i'm super slow to get to things; like a snail with access to a laptop djfdjk #and yes i agree 100%!!! #they definitely met up at least semi-regularly during these eight months #i like to think dahlia even covered for iris at hazakura temple

[chimonai]

ms hawthorne

#* ∙ ✿◞ mirror.

[chimonai]

In the language of flowers // I am the one who says // fuck you

Benjamin Garcia, from “Ode to the Corpse Flower,” published in Boston Review (via lifeinpoetry)

#* ∙ ✿◞ musings.

[chimonai]

❥𝟓 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄.

i.  beautiful and bad - nicole dollanganger. i don’t give a fuck about love  /  never did, never will  /  wanna take you out on a date with death  /  kiss you with a power drill  /  ‘cause beauty don’t mean shit to me  /  only when it’s a weapon and deadly  /  think you’re big and bad but you got nothing on me

ii.  sleep awake - mother mother. out on the street i keep a started car  /  who only waits for me  /  conveniently

iii.  if i had a heart - fever ray. this will never end ‘cause i want more  /  more, give me more, give me more  /  if i had a heart, i could love you  /  if i had a voice, i would sing  /  after the night when i wake up  /  i’ll see what tomorrow brings

iv.  snake - nicole dollanganger. in the hazy blue, you look so sweet  /  i almost forget what you’d do to me  /  if i let you  /   ‘cause even blood will run  /  like the tears of a saint  /  with a face like that  /  you could get away with anything  /  and i know you know that

v.  fucking crazy - skylar grey. who knows why i did it, baby  /  i’ve been told a thousand times  /  that i’m just fucking crazy  /  who knows, it’s the way god made me  /  and i’ve been told a thousand times  /  that i’m just fucking crazy

stolen from: my other blog ^o^  /  tagging: @virtusdemonte, @ofgentleresolve ( mana or yoojin :pleading: ), @eternasci, @temsikfates​ and you reading this ! ♡

#* ∙ ✿◞ tag game. #if a song doesn't sound at least a little haunted it's not for her tbh #1) is just perfect idek what to add #as is 2) but? what i love especially abt this one is #that it perfectly encapsulates dahlia’s paranoia about being found out for her crimes #+ her betraying nature #in the song the lyrical subject has a partner who commits the crimes with her but as that line goes? #‘‘out on the street i keep a started car who only waits for me conveniently’‘ -> she will betray them too #canonically dahlia betrayed even iris by convincing her father to abandon her at the temple #...unless you want to buy into the darker implications about their father #which is a post for some other time ! #3) is a vibe song #4) is pretty self-explanatory as well #i just love how haunted both of them sound #5) to me is so tragic bc it reminds me how apart from iris no in the game has shown even a lick of sympathy for dahlia #obviously you cannot excuse her actions ( save for what she did to terry idc ) #but what irks me so much is? in t.urnabout beginnings not even mia picks up on how bad dahlia’s situation was? #she mocks the judge and payne for falling for dahlia’s act #but she herself is guilty of this? #we meet terry and mia is immediately like. oh his child-like voice. his big sad eyes. he’s so innocent he could do no wrong 🥺 #then he tells her he’s abducted a teenager who was his teen angel / lover and it???doesn’t change anything about her perception of him????? #ngl that felt so ooc for her ??? #where my female solidarity at???? #no love no understanding for dahlia but whatever. i got her

[chimonai]

       Dahlia has always found herself peering into abysses. The watery tomb below Dusky Bridge, the inexplorable depths of the human heart, her own madness. Maybe that’s what has drawn her here, to Temsik Park. A crater lies in its midst, gaping wide from inside the dirt-colored ground, as if hell itself had opened its maw. Around the rim, the air fizzles with remnants of something otherworldly. What it is, she cannot say. Though it captivates her all the same. The sensation soon grows stronger. Not from within the crater—to her surprise—but from beyond. She twirls around, her red, long hair spilling behind her like blood from a knife wound.

          “My, who do we have here?”  Her brown, gentle eyes set upon the strange visitant, recognizing his state of being right away. He, too, is not of this world. The same energy she sensed from the crater emanates strongly from deep within his chest. How curious. Dahlia keeps a pleasant demeanor, intrigued, but guarded. Who knows what he is up to.  “It’s not very polite to sneak up on a lady. Much less at this hour.”  Her pale face, now graced with a smile, hangs like a moon in the dark, ghostly and bone-like.  “Are you lost, my dear?” / @temsikfates

#temsikfates #a horrible horrible crossover 😌 #just two vengeful spirits about to become everyone's problem #probably. very likely

[chimonai]

❥  Mr. Attorney. * ∙  ✿◞  

“ Yet…?”

” I can’t advise on actions not yet taken, but any suspicions you have on a person who might be harmed or those in danger should be directly reported to police, I-” Now, surely, a woman who was aware of a plot or conspiracy would not begin to contact peoples that were usually unarmed and had cozy, well padded offices, as comfortable as a resume is in darkness after more than a few years serving the people; he had basic job security,  enviable to those who didn’t know the underlying stress of a courtroom and the knowledge paychecks for defense clients were slim these days.  That ruled out the possibility of being robbed and then killed by the most unlikely, doll-faced woman he’d ever had in his office. She was almost too perfect, complexion seemingly flawless and a shine to her smile that unsettled the soul; he took this to be the typical nerves when confronted by those who were ‘easy on the eyes.’  His hand that had been near a drawer halted there, tapping on the lip of the desk’s edge. “…”

“  ….I  can’t imagine the, exact circumstances, that would lead someone to have that kind of information.” His fingers slip down to the second drawer, though his flitting gaze had steadied to key points; her hands, most pointedly. Apollo had no sherlockian talents to glean much from training onto them, but they seem even cleaner now, clinically so.  He was not reaching in directly, but underneath what sounds like paper, a heavier folder, perhaps. “ Excuse me a minute-” His searching fingers don’t reappear above the line of the desk before he slips down, halfway bent to reach the third drawer.

        How delightful, to watch the little lawyer become infected with panic as he tries to make sense of her words, the implications that reside within their shadows. His anxiety is a cloying thing, permeating the space between and around them. Dahlia watches him with big, curious eyes, her smile receding. What is he feeling for inside his drawers — his phone? A panic button? A gun? She swallows the giggle that threatens to spill from her lips. Although the prospect of falling on him now is delectable, she refrains, like a cat pawing its prey, enjoying the chase before the catch. Not yet, not yet, she tells herself. Let’s see him writhe with uncertainty.

          “The exact circumstances... ?”  She parrots softly, allowing surprise, then shock to bleed into her expression.  “Oh... Oh!”  A delicate hand shoots up to cup her cheek.  “You don’t think I... Oh my goodness. I’m sorry. I have no such information.”  In the face of her apparent blunder, her gaze wilts, falling to the floor like a rose losing its petals.

          “It’s just like me to embarrass myself so,”  she mewls, a rosy blush blooming on her cheeks.  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Justice. I should just come clean.”  It’s with great hesitance that she does. Head canted to the side, her gaze, nervous, laced with awareness of an undisclosed wrongdoing and so frail it might wither once more under the slightest harsh look, pursues his again.  “The legal counsel I seek is for a character I’m writing. You see, I’m a Literature student. You’re quite the talk at my University. An inspiration! Not only to those who study law, but also to someone like me.”  She reaches over the desk to grasp his hand,  “I simply had to speak with you. Please forgive me for tricking you!”

#aptlyattorney #good. very good #try and dodge this curveball justice < 3

[chimonai]

Civil Service, Claire Schwartz

#* ∙ ✿◞ musings.

[chimonai]

After the events of the Bridge case, the remaining spirit mediums in Kurain Village were forbidden to channel Dahlia under any circumstance, as the elders feared another tragedy. Despite that prohibition, one of them did so anyway. She was young, sheltered, friendless and shy, but equipped with a big, bleeding heart. Dahlia’s tale first inspired curiosity, then sympathy; in many ways the medium felt her own struggles mirrored by what Dahlia experienced. Dahlia was sweet, helpful — not at all the demon she had been made out to be. Soon they became “friends”. They communicated by the means of a journal. Dahlia learned about the medium’s problems, struggles, and wishes. She offered solutions, comfort. Sometimes they engaged in activities like any friends would. A channeled Dahlia would do the medium’s hair and make-up, lead the woman to her favorite places around Mount Mitama, take over unloved chores when the medium was too exhausted... All of this to win her trust and convince her to leave Kurain Village. When she agreed, Dahlia took over. 

#* ∙ ✿◞ chr. study. #that medium channeled dahlia frequently #and secretly ofc. #i think this went on for at least a few weeks #i have the hc that dahlia's spiritual powers only came to real power after her death #meaning she could probably just possess the medium #but why do that? #maintaining a good relationship has its perks #the medium doesn't know about dahlia's plans for revenge; nor does she know she dispossesses her body to fulfill them #to her dahlia's a friend. someone who takes care of her. who helps her navigate the world beyond kurain village #and to dahlia the medium's the perfect disguise #while dahlia's in control she pursues her goals; #then when the medium takes over again she hides in the same body she used to commit her crimes #she's made herself untrackable #plus if she was ever cornered? she could threaten the life of the medium by harming / killing ''herself''

[chimonai]

        Something has awakened anew in quaint Kurain Village. Something forbidden, vile. Something that was never meant to be invited back into the world of the living. Such was the decree of the elders, intending to prevent tragedy to repeat, to wipe an old shame from memory. A snuffed candle, rekindled in the dead of night. The she-ghost, doll-faced and housed by a body not her own, sneaks off, onto the dirt road leading away from the living area. Night air fills her lungs. Her head tilts upwards to drink in the sight of the firmament, the twinkling stars, the round, full moon — the unchanging, eternal beauty nature offers.

This village, too, is unchanging. Still a ghost town, after all these years, and she's the un-living proof.

          As she walks down the path to her freedom, she notices a man. Quite an uncommon sight, given this place’s history. She gathers he’s a tourist, here to learn about the supernatural. He’s an impediment to her plans, but no thorn in her side.  “Um, excuse me, Mr. Tourist?”  She approaches him with the grace instilled in her from young years, moving and speaking as if she belonged here, as if she were merely performing her duty.  “Visitors aren’t allowed to wander around the village at night. Would you please go back to your room?” / @ofgentleresolve

#ofgentleresolve #as i wrote this i noticed a little oopsie we did during plotting 😳 #since the mediums take on the appearance of the spirits they channel ( save for the hair and clothing ofc ); #i'm not gonna have dahlia pretend she is the medium that was yoojin's tour guide during the day ! #but yoojin is welcome to notice that smth is wrong with her thanks to his strong sixth sense #like he will definitely sense that there exist two souls in this body #he could even notice that one of the souls is dormant / unconscious or even that the second soul is the medium's #dahlia's hair rn is long and black btw; no braids... she will dye it once she's in LA

[chimonai]

a heads-up: i don’t have access to the legacy editor for new posts anymore, so every starter / continuation post will be written in the new editor going forward. please use the new editor for new threads with me from now on, so we don't run into any compatibility problems formatting-wise. however, old posts / threads still have access to legacy and i will keep using legacy for those for as long as i’m able to. ♡

#* ∙ ✿◞ ooc. #applies to here as well 😔

[chimonai]

Marguerite Duras, from The Easy Life

Text ID: Life was really nothing but chaos, and anger overtook me. / Chaos, boredom, chaos.

#* ∙ ✿◞ musings.

[chimonai]

#* ∙ ✿◞ mun art. #* ∙ ✿◞ mirror. #love her sm ( but not enough to add bg oops- )

[chimonai]

In her main verse now that she has a body again, what does revenge look like to her? Does she have an idea of what she would go? Basically what would be the best scenario for her and if she does get it, what she would do with herself afterwards??

Plainly put, she wants all people involved with her death to suffer the same anguish she had to suffer at their hands. While she was still alive, her murders were motivated by the need to cover up her original crime, the staged kidnapping. As such, they were more “business” than pleasure, though that’s not to say she didn’t derive gratification from her deeds all the same ( she might not have started to kill if it hadn’t been for her circumstances however ). Now that she’s back once more, she doesn’t only want to get rid of the people she despises, she wants to torment them, before granting them, one after the other, a slow, painful death.

If she managed to achieve this, I don’t think it would appease her. Nothing will ever truly rectify the wrongs that have been done to her. She’s animated by her goal for revenge, yes, but its completion will instill her with a fleeting sense of satisfaction, before emptiness and ennui will take over. She's still D.ahlia H.awthorne; dead, dissatisfied, with no hope of ever leading the life she has envisioned for herself.

#ofgentleresolve #* ∙ ✿◞ answered. #* ∙ ✿◞ chr. study. #kinda depressi huh. #she's truly been doomed by the narrative 😔 #honestly to me she's one of the most tragic characters in the game #but it's just like m.ia f.ey said #she will always be someone who cannot win at anything #and she will have to live with the punishment of forever being herself

[chimonai]

        A beautiful, dying swan, roosting in the middle of an empty stage, caught in the throes of a personal crisis. No audience cheers, no crowd boos. This is a private performance, privy only to one who intrudes by design.  “Oh...”  The intruder slows her steps, halting her approach for but a moment. Her voice calls out, falling upon her classmate as softly as a feather,  “Excuse me, I didn’t realize someone would be here.”  Like an angel sent from above to help a mortal in plight, she draws near, perching atop the edge of the stage, legs dangling from its rim.  “I hope you don’t mind.”  She smiles, feigning ignorance.  “Wait, I know you.”  A perfectly manicured finger taps her chin as she hums.

          ​“Oh!”  A gasp spills from her rosy lips, her fingers withering into a loose fist upon her realization.  “You’re the poor soul who got kidnapped by that frightful detective. It looked really serious. Are you okay?”  /  @eternasci​​

#eternasci #* ∙ ✿◞ v. ivy university. #hello she's here to become your horrible horrible new ''friend'' #enjoy the lies and manipulation < 3 #i wrote this in legacy btw

[chimonai]

[Text ID: I do not want to be a saint. / None of this is my fault. /End ID]

Confessions, Kanae Minato (trans. Stephen Snyder)

#* ∙ ✿◞ musings.

[chimonai]

❥  Mr. Attorney. * ∙  ✿◞

 His claims to fame were  based on his abilities to spot the  truth; though that was a gross oversimplification of all the facets. Aside from a buzzing from the bronze that he was sure indicated her hesitance,  none of these come to his aid, and appearances of this stranger was  blatantly innocent, certainly nothing to note, other than her doe-ish eyes and  nervous aura that he could not place outside of ordinary. Every one of her movements or words had a fit to the box of personality he expected of her type.  She was nearly like Miss Woods, in  only lacking some sneezing and more hurried way of getting to the point, though this shyness could only be more dire, he felt. “ Oh.”

“ Well, let me extend the courtesy of granting that. Erm, do know, of course, I’d never risk making an appointment that unauthorized ears would be privy to. Everyone employed at the WAA is  vetted  for your confidence and client confidentiality.” At least one key was granted to him for his after-hours work of cleaning, or taking care of that last stack of whatever the prosecutor placed on his desk for sorting, unlucky days those were.

Click. “ There is tea if you want- I have a few that are pretty good for the nerves.”

        Demurely and very patiently, she nods at his explanation, his reassurance. It’s wasted on her. Her need for privacy doesn’t stem from coyness, nor any confidentiality concerns, but the desire to prevent any potential interference. The clicking of the lock sets fire to her blood, warming her corpse-cold veins with excitement, and rousing her borrowed heart. He took to her little act like a fly does to honey ( now entrapped, soon suffocating under the folly of his decision ). It’s almost amusing how much he reminds her of her dear Feenie, back when he was nothing more than a pathetic, sniveling University student. She’s never harbored anything but contempt for his ilk, the goody two-shoes.

          Nothing of her giddiness shows upon the fledgling’s return, save for a slight shift in her position as her legs graciously uncross.  “Oh, in that case... Which one would you recommend? I think it’ll be direly needed...”  Her interest in his opinion could not claim even an ounce of honesty. Questions like this one, the kind to make a man feel useful, as if his guidance and expertise are not only wanted but needed, tend to swell their egos to the point of bursting with idiocy.  “Now, the reason for my coming here...”  she says then, eager to progress this farce.  “I seek your legal advice... on a murder.”

          She cannot help the smile that slips onto her painted lips, like a snake slithering into view from the underbrush.  “One that’s yet to happen.”

#aptlyattorney #hi did u miss me < 3

[chimonai]

        “You actually came.”  Like a moth drawn to the candle, or a rabbit venturing into the vixen’s den. It’s inevitable maybe, the morbid curiosity that drives much of mankind’s folly, yet surprise resonates in her soft-spoken voice all the same. In a strange way, she’s pleased to see him. Her big, brown eyes spy his arrival from where she perches; a swing that sways back and forth with gentle movement. The park, the scenery of their reunion, lies silent, engulfed by darkness and devoid of any signs of life, save for two, who should not be wandering this earth in the first place.  “I must admit I was surprised to learn you’re still among the living. You have the tenacity of a cockroach.”  /  @kagoshou​

#kagoshou #haha hehe here we go < 3 #what is she planning you may ask? : ) well. and that's all i'm telling you #bless this blog for not taking away my beloved amazing show-stopping glamourous legacy editor