OC-tober – Day 9 – [Study] All academics and no fun makes Lena (bleep)
(( This little story was inspired by this video for Carolina Herrera Perfume, featuring Lena’s face claim. Thank you to those of you who allowed me to use your characters for it. I had fun with it! xoxo))
Formal QSC student functions were about as thrilling as a visit to that one asura dentist who was open during off hours and swore she’d not taper your teeth to sharp fangs. That evening’s mandatory event in the Reach epitomized their usual boring nature. Lena barely contained her restlessness as the school’s honored guest speaker droned on and on about the virtues of the Durmand Priory’s contributions to Tyria’s history. Or was it the Vigil? Lena had tuned out the speaker by then, and she didn’t seem to be the only one.
A yawn here, a tapping of a high heel there. And she was certain that a flask was being passed around by some of the basket brawl students. How rude of them not to share with the rest, she thought to herself, smirking.
To think that the dress code forced all the students to wear semi-formal attire…
“What a waste of a gown for us,” she murmured to Regan Reiner and Avery Rowan, each sitting to her right and left, respectively. Avery nodded in agreement, though the words did not travel through Regan’s plugged ears. The Reiner had been smart enough to bring an iBookah along with discreet earphones, quietly rocking out to likely some underground darkwave band. Lena was jealous. Why didn’t she think of that, too!
Suddenly, she remembered a detail that might actually save their bland evening.
When Lena sent word to her mother Cordelia that she’d be in the city for a school event, and if she’d like to meet up, Cordelia reminded her of the bi-seasonal trip to an exclusive Southsun spa retreat she usually took that week of Colossus, and that no one would be home save for the staff.
Her cherry-glossed lips curled into a nefarious smirk as an idea crossed her mind.
Lena was an excellent student grade-wise, by all accounts. In spite of being a little on the rebellious side and with frequent dress code violations here and there, she was overall very disciplined when it came to her academic achievements, particularly in her pursuit of a prestigious music degree.
Still, she was a Larkspur. And Larkspurs never let responsibility get in the way of a good time if they could help it.
Aut viam inveniam aut faciam. House Larkspur’s motto.
Whispering to both girls next to her, plucking out one of Regan’s earphones while at it, Lena cupped her lips with both hands to mask them as she asked the two to spread the message. Soon, the whisper traveled through the entirety of the student body present, collective expressions brightening enough to suggest mostly everyone was on board with whatever mischief was to ensue upon the event’s conclusion.
Party at Larkspur Tower in Rurikton after this. Spread it around. Everyone welcomed.
“Don’t take the elevator!” Lena warned as the QSC student invasion arrived at the luxurious Larkspur Tower. “Unless it’s three at a time! Let’s all take the stairs!”
While most heard Lena, following excitedly and rushing the five-story mansion’s lavish spiraling staircase, her heed drowned in the roaring din of the group. A handful of unfortunate revelers would later get trapped in the glass-encased elevator. Whoops!
The Larkspur Tower’s extravagant ballroom held up to its reputation and standard of providing a ridiculously well-equipped venue for the most elaborate of parties. These tended to range from the usual mundane balls aimed at specific social strata guests, to the more debauchery-riddled Larkspur afterparties not quite sanctioned by the House head. But Lord Alistair Larkspur always turned a blind eye, happy to foot the exorbitant bill so he’d never have to deal with his children anyway. In short, it was a spectacular playground.
Thanks to basketbrawler Logan “Lobo” Bowden’s acoustical engineering expertise, he cleverly set up an impromptu DJ sound booth complete with turntables compatible with the ballroom’s high-tech asura speaker system. “I’ll pay you kisses!” Lena cooed at Lobo, “And maybe some more. Promise!”
Even Regan, clad in dazzling dark regalia, bobbed her head to the rhythm of the DJ beats as she watched the rowdy crowd from a dimly-lit corner. A dancing Lena approached her as she beckoned for Avery to assist in the task of attempting to drag Regan onto the center of the hardwood dance floor, “C’mon, dance with us! You know you secretly want to! Avie, help me get this one to loosen up!”
Somehow, a mysterious mesmer known as Mirembe to the few that might’ve recognized her infiltrated the exclusive party, fascinating her way into many students’ hearts and psyche as she joined in the fun.
Older than the rest but not above engaging in some shenanigans, Tristan Vilefort sipped 20-year-aged Cartwright cognac from a crystal snifter and played it cool while sitting back in one of the gilded love seats, flanked by two chatty first-year girls talking over him. Their dresses’ hemlines all but nearly disappeared as the night progressed, which likely did not go unnoticed by the graduate student.
Fortunately, Tristan’s allegedly undesired misery ended when Leah Ambrose rescued him from that predicament. And he was kind enough to share that bottle with her, when they found a cozy spot to settle into. (By the opulent Burgundy guestroom. Or was it /in/ it?)
Taylor Gray’s long flaxen hair curtained his handsome features when he started strumming an electric guitar, harmonizing with the loud dance music. Perhaps he was still guarded about his extracurricular activities, hiding his talents from the rest of the student body. But at the rate the night was going, would anyone remember him playing?
In his sloppy enthusiasm, an oblivious Noel accidentally knocked down an antique Kurzik vase perched on a mantle. Luckily the always conscientious Zayn Salis jumped to catch the priceless porcelain, his remarkable reflexes once again proving the boy was worthy of his Ministry Guard post. A beaming Nela Aurum proudly smiled when noting her boyfriend’s heroic move. The latter would later find tiny paw prints on her pink gown, from when Leigh Larkspur’s fluffy white cat Gabriel decided to come out and play, rendering Nela unable to resist the adorable charms of a Dahlah look-alike.
And speaking of Salis, was that a partially drunk Dante tenderly locking lips with a marble bust of Lord Declan Larkspur? Scandalous.
Someone’s designer purse even got stolen by a Larkspur pet. How dare!
Madness continued, the partying students invading other rooms and floors of the infamous Larkspur Tower, unsupervised by any authority figure, and only tended to by two footmen who kept bringing out vintage champagne and bottles of fine spirits from Lord Larkspur’s legendary cellar. They didn’t seem to mind the craziness, not after Lena bribed them with two months’ salary’s worth if they kept their mouths shut and catered to her friends for the evening.
In fact, she encouraged them to join in on the fun once the booze and snack trays were served.
Along with the alcohol flowing, a suspiciously aromatic joint was freely passed around for those students wishing to partake. Forming a circle in one of the balconies, several of them engaged in a game of mouth-to-mouth ‘puff puff pass’ –probably started by Omar, who was later caught salaciously feeding strawberries to a second-year brunette.
No doubt a catfight would break out from that. And it did, given Omar’s many conquests. But it was quickly suppressed by Marissa Bellisario, who happened to be on her way out to meet up with her secret boyfriend (and was still debating whether to run off with him somewhere quiet or invite him upstairs to join the immature recklessness.)
Frenzied drunks jumping fully clothed in the empty marble tubs and activating the shower hoses, daring cheerleaders aiming to swing from the crystal chandeliers, one of the Gray Room’s extra large master beds filled with double the slim bodies under the thick covers than the four it can usually hold, and a random second-year riding up and down the carpeted hallways and stairs on a mount he stole from the House courier were all part of a hazy memory the lot would gossip about during tomorrow’s class break.
The rest of the wild evening was likely a colorful kaleidoscope of blurry incidents and too much fun for most. But the flashbacks (even if slightly askew), would linger on.
Especially at their respective 9 am classes the next day.
It was a school night, after all.
But it didn’t just end there.
As the sun was about to rise, Lena flashed Avery a lazy smile, muttering, “Hey, Avie, I’ve an idea to get everyone to the rooftop to watch dawn happen over the Reach’s skyline. Up for an impromptu song? I got a violin for you.”
“Everyone! To the tower’s rooftop courtyard!” Lena yelled, then eyed one of the wrestling team chaps, tossing him his button-up playfully. “Boy, put your shirt on. This is a family-friendly party!”
Soon enough, both Avery and Lena would be playing a string instrument version of a certain song likely everyone was familiar with. Singing was encouraged, so long as all realized it was time to head back to campus.
“It’s closing time….” Chantal Bellisario chimed in, doing her best to blend her untrained, undiscovered mezzo-soprano (bordering on contralto) voice into the deep string instrument mix.
Avery and Lena kept on playing, exchanging looks as they smiled and brushed their bows against strings.
“….every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”
“We’re going to hate ourselves tomorrow morning in class aren’t we….”
@salisfamily @house-reiner @avie-rowan @dusteddyes @elessar-volundir @adamixos @leah-ambrose @nelaaurum @withbladeandwit @beetletunschool
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