#opalsstart

[rosegm]

ROSE STOOD OFF to the side, away from the commotion of the party and partly in shadow. she held a glass of champagne delicately between her fingers, occasionally taking small sips. the new prodigies were so nervous, she thought as she watched them. some stood talking with opals, hands fidgeting in front of them. some drank freely, clearly uneasy about the feeling of joining a secret society. she couldn’t blame them really, she remembers her jitters on the first night. 

they were going to learn so much ( and hopefully also no find out about poppy ). god, poppy. who had to miss her ceremony as a diadem. who’s been gone for –– god, thinking about it made rose yearn for a way to help. when she first joined the society, and her own predecessor, philip greeves, told her about the disappearances and the murder, it had piked her curiosity. that’s what always got her in trouble, anyways. after learning more, finding out details about the past, well, rose had begun to think that poppy was no coincidence. this was planned, as were the others, and the secrets they’ve tried so hard to keep were coming to light. 

philip told her when she’d called him after poppy’s disappearance, told her don’t snoop, don’t get caught up in that business, if you start digging were you shouldn’t bad things will happen. 

but this was her family. all of them were. and they deserve better. they deserve to go through this process with poppy by their side. no one is going to take any more of them away from rose, and she’d go far beyond her limit to figure out why poppy was gone, and if she was alive. ( god, she better be alive, please be alive ).

it’s not like anyone knew about her investigations anyway. ( beyond mia, rhys, hollis, and philip, of course ) –– most people assumed her article and her successful investigation was a one time ordeal. if there’s ever been a time to put her mind to work, it was now. she needed to get poppy back, for herself and for her circlet. but there was still so much left to solve, so many questions left unanswered. 

why did poppy go missing? were they planning to pick all of them off? why this year? why now? how much did they already know? are they out for revenge? why - why - why –––

rose startled when she heard a voice, blinking out of her thoughts. “sorry,” she said, shaking her head with a small smile as she looked at the individual standing across from her. right –– party, socializing. she had a role in this, a part to play. “how are you? enjoying yourself?” @opalsmedia​

[dantesinfcrno]

*   𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍       🧸       @opalsmedia .

* !!!  –––  instead of using the trickster persona for a chaotic purpose, dante instead fades into the background ( as well as one can while looking like a widow who just murdered her husband and is currently fake crying at his funeral ), observing this little dysfunctional family they have become –– not without feeling proud of them, just a little bit. there is a random movie playing, and the dubious quality makes it all the more entertaining. dante hears laughter, and that is enough : they deserve this, at least. peace, no matter how short-lived. there is someone by his side, cursing at a damned piece of lego that stuck on their foot. –––– don’t talk to the poor things like this. –––– he chides, laying atop of the pool float, as unbothered as one can be. –––– come, lay down with me. let’s think happy thoughts while we stare at the queen’s beautiful corgis.

[elicts]

𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓃 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉𝑒𝓇 // @opalsmedia​​ ! 

the worry continues to bubble in his gut throughout the week; the gentle prodding feeling that tells him something bad has happened to poppy underneath eliot’s usual saccharine optimism. but he’s doing his best to distract himself. and that’s how he can be found that afternoon in the dining room. sat cross-legged, lost in the pages of an art history textbook with his imagination filling in the blanks, pencil tracing idly on a pad of paper as he reads. until he hears the sound of approaching footsteps on the marble. “there are no hints to be found here, i’m afraid,” he calls, assuming it’s another prodigy darting around the manor. although he looks up after a moment, if only just to throw them a reassuring smile. “unless you’re actually looking to have a little break?” 

[enrough]

open    /   @opalsmedia​

     it’s  a  lot  to  take  in  ---  the  evening,  it’s  purpose,  the  location,  the  society  itself.  not  one  to  typically  take  a  step  back,  she  finds  herself  behaving  out  of  character  by  standing  at  the  edge  of  the  elegant  room  watching  others  mingle.  she’ll  get  in  there  soon,  work  up  the  nerve  to  do  what  she  does  best  ---  life’s  one  big  networking  opportunity,  after  all,  and  this  might  be  the  grandest  there  is.  she’s  determined  to  keep  her  wits  about  her  to,  to  not  be  made  a  fool  with  liquor-loosened  lips,  but  nerves  have  her  downing  one  glass  of  dom  perignon  and  then  another  and  another.  

     someone  approaches,  joining  her  side  ---  she  can’t  tell  if  they’re  there  to  size  her  up  or  if  they  too  feel  hesitant.  “  this  is  . . . ”  she  trails  off,  searching  for  the  right  words.  she  normally  always  has  to  work  this  hard,  but  she  usually  never  lets  it  show.  perhaps  with  all  the  masks  in  the  room  this  evening,  her  own  seems  to  be  slipping  just  a  tad.  “ i  don’t  know.  i  think  i’m  rendered  speechless.  i  can’t  believe  this  exists.  that  i’m  here.  ” 

[blvckstcne]

somewhere in the opals manor // featuring;; open

            there’s something that’s so comforting about sitting in the manor. as a protege he doesn’t often get the opportunity, but he had needed to borrow an old textbook from one of the older opals and had some time before his next class started, so he had decided to sink into one of the plush, overstuffed chairs found in one of the common rooms to flip through some readings he needed to do this week. it’s tedious work, as business writing isn’t usually meant to be enthralling. there’s impatience itching under his skin, telling his mind to wander from the boring work in his lap. his eyes ache behind his glasses, his knee bouncing with the heel of his shoe thumping against the rich hardwood. he’s looking for an excuse to do anything but his homework, so with a sigh he slowly shuts the book and stands, stretching his arms over his head with a silent yawn. 

            might as well explore a bit while he’s here, right? he tucks his bag over his shoulders and peeks out of the common room, looking for any signs of life. when he spots another society member he knows his little romp in the mansion probably isn’t advised, so he pushes open the door more noticeably and grins. “d’you know if there’s a kitchen in this place? if i don’t get some caffeine in me soon i don’t think i’ll make it through my afternoon lectures.” maybe a little tour wouldn’t hurt. 

[dantesinfcrno]

@opalsmedia​

  *  !!!   –––  dante felt deserving of an award. the hours passed by with no incidents, and that was–– unusual, whenever dante was concerned. he may have promised to behave, but... who was he kidding?  the prodigies presented an opportunity for excitement, and adrenaline flooded his veins ( not all of it thanks to good reasons, the memory of poppy always longing in the back of his eyes, her voice caressing his ears too frequently as dante found his relief in bottles &  bottles of condensed inhebriation ). he was far from tipsy–– just warm enough, barely grasping the contentedness that filled his throat. as he sensed another body coming closer, hearing precise and attentive, a breezy smirk made his sinful crimson lips curl. –––– the mask is just for show, you know. –––– he teases, voice coloured light. –––– i don’t bite. at least, not too often. –––– the person finally comes into view, and dante winks. –––– trick or treat? –––– to treat the invitation cerimony as an inside joke is first instinct, and he hopes no one will mind him too much.

[dantesinfcrno]

@opalsmedia

*  !!!   –––  it’s quite fun to see prodigies running around the manor like he once did. the place feels alive, constant noise humming through each room, and the sun shines a little bit brighter. dante can almost hear poppy’s laughter if he focuses hard enough–– and since her welcoming kindness is absent, he makes sure he’s a decent enough host. this is family, is the quiet &  ever-present emotion pervading all his actions. he bakes cookies and places them in the most convenient places, surrounding the prodigies not with his customary chaos but with reassuring words. he is still a mildly annoying cheshire cat, offering riddles with dead ends as soon as a question is thrown his way. he does respect ginevra’s work, after all. the kitchen hasn’t been reached yet, and dante sings along to an old french song as he takes out another batch of cookies from the oven. as quick steps approach, dante doesn’t look up as he utters his question. –––– wanna taste test for me? i’ve tried something with cinammon and caramel this time. maybe it’ll spice up your thoughts, who knows.

[rosegm]

ROSE’S COMMITMENT TO only one drink that night quickly vanished fairly early on, her resolve crumbling. between mia and gin talking about her getting laid, and trying so hard to avoid hollis’ eyes the whole night, rose could feel the bit of alcohol easing some of the tension away, so she opted for more. she could get lost in the feeling of the loud music, making it feel like her heart was beating to the rhythm. maybe she did need this –– to just drink her weight in liquor and feel her senses numb. she hadn’t socialized like this in so long, mind focused on poppy and the investigation, but as she spotted other opals and prodigies around her, she was envious. she wanted to drown her thoughts in vodka cranberries as well, so she took shot after shot, nursing some drinks while chugging others. 

the castle was beautifully decorated, and being around strangers and friends alike, made rose a little sad to know this was her final year at strathmore. rose wanted to make some memories –– she made a mental note to remind mia and gin about the photo booth as she poured herself a shot of whiskey, glancing to the right when someone had joined her. “ hey, ” she said, her tongue warm from the booze she’d had earlier, limbs felt loose. “ wanna try one of these plastic syringes? i’ve been too busy with the hard liquor to even try the themed drinks. ” rose said with a laugh. this felt nice, the way she felt light as a feather, floating above everything.  she noticed her lack of filter –– while usually so much more calculated and careful, rose was smiling and felt giddy inside. “ i promise if they’re gross we can do a real shot afterwards. ”