Opheliabinici - Glitter & Violence

eyes fluttered closed, cursing herself at the sound of the blondes voice. she knew jasper already had something in the works but truthfully needed others opinion on how she should feel about it. ophelia had always been a true crime junkie herself but that was before something happened so close to home in her own life. the whole thing has given the girl brain fog leaving her in a daze.

when the boy sat between her and the other she looked past him to silently signal the other person to leave and save themselves while they still could. when they stood to leave she turned her focus back to jasper. "listen, there's no questioning that we all want to know what happened but it's still fresh, jasp. i like true crime as much as the next person but should we not just let the police do their job? i know they've dropped the ball on other cases historically but it hasn't even been a month." the girl stressed.

truthfully, jasper hadn't been paying any attention to the conversation nearby until the words true crime influencer broke through and piqued his interested.

leech. was that what he was? because the true crime content he was peddling (episode one out now!) wasn't necessarily coming from a bad place. he was simply a boy trying to figure out what had happened to his friend, working through what they all seemed to be caught up in... and also trying to get un-canceled.

he really should have just let it go, focused on editing the new episode in front of him, but by the time ophelia finished her thought it was entirely too late. he was already standing, ready to set the record straight.

"oh, i plan on it," he snapped his laptop shut, wandering over and wedging himself between the girl and the person she'd been speaking to. jasper had a habit of not minding his own business, butting in where he was not wanted and overstaying his welcome, but when someone was discussing the basis for his podcast, how could he not insert himself in the conversation?

"it's my journalistic duty to record what's happening. the people deserve to know. and don't you want to know? i mean, we still have no clue who killed her or why. and that list? and the secrets? give them the details of the case and the true crime community could solve this whole thing for us."

A Dinner Date With Barbara Palvin & Dylan Sprouse | British Vogue

"oh don't even get me started on that. i love the kid, truly, and i'm a true crime buff myself but at least give it a few months. this whole situation is publicized enough and now adding the blog on top of it all, none of us need that right now." the girl sighed, having the whole internal battle to support jasper already raging in her head. she was so close to the case that it felt morally wrong to encourage the further monetization on this tragedy. " i would literally do all of the planning, pre and post. i'm not really a supporter of the drink to forget trope but i think it would beneficial to everyone, at lesat those of us on the list."

Tahjun was all for the morbid if it could fix the vibes. He did not think anything could really do that, but it was a welcome change to have people say things out loud. After all, he had no clue what to do with his own feelings regarding all of this, and he hadn’t even been tight - or as tight - with Lizzie. He missed her, everything she represented. Though perhaps mostly he missed how the university was before the murder. “Insensitive but also the truth. Though last I heard, we have our own little true crime podcaster here on campus, barely took for Lizzie’s body to be released to her parents before that oaf started to make a scene of it.” Tahjun could not be considered the most considerate person, but for Lizzie’s sake, he wanted to choke Jasper - and not in a sexy way. “Oh, I am all for parties, but I don’t suppose it would have to be Lizzie themed. That might just so the opposite of what you’re aiming for. Maybe an early summer party, or celebrating the end of spring.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “As long as I don’t have to lift a finger.”

eyes forward and a confident strut led ophelia through the crowd of waiting patrons to the front of the line at opulence. she never had to wait in line and as friendly as she was she always tried avoiding eye contact with those that had to. she had almost made it when familiar face made it into her line of sight. the brunette stopped and quirked an amused brow, "ouch, turned away at the door. but don't worry brody, not everyone thinks you have a forgettable face" she mused teasingly, "well let's hear it then, make me an offer i simply can't refuse."

status : — closed for @opheliabinici

location : — outside opulence

“ For  the  third  time  man,  it’s  Kingston.  Brody  Kingston.  I  literally  dj’ed  here  like,  two  weeks  ago.  You  really  don’t  remember?  Check  the  list  again.  I’m  always  on  it. ”  The  bouncer  shakes  his  head  and  swats  his  hand  at  Brody,  who  stumbles  out  of  the  line  onto  the  pavement,  frustrated.  “ Fuck, ”  he  mutters,  passing  the  waiting  crowd  until  he  spots  a  face  he  knows,  instantly  brightening.  His  luck  might  be  turning  around  tonight  after  all.  “ Hey  you,  got  a  favor  to  ask.  I’ll  make  it  worth  it. ”

location: anywhere

status: open

ophelia was beginning to think that the energy on campus may never properly restore to what it once was. yes, it hadn't been long since the party but with the weight that lizzie's murder was adding to everyones shoulders, especially with whatever loser weirdo is trying to blackmail everyone online, everyone is on edge. "can i say something lowkey morbid? and one a little less so but may be seen as insensitive? not that i mean to be insensitive but it might fix the vibes?" the brunette asked aloud, not really paying attention to who was within earshot to potentially answer. though it didn't quite matter who heard as she wasn't planning on waiting for a reply, "do you think some, like, true crime influencer is gonna leech onto this for content? like any day now we could be scrolling on tik tok and some chick just goes 'let's dive in to the lizzie harrington case'. and with that list the blog posted would we all be mentioned?" the words tumbled from her mouth at the speed of light. it was an unnerving thought when lizzie's body hadn't even been cold a month now but a totally possible situation given the serious media attention it's gotten. "oh also we should have another bye lizzie party, i feel like helped distract everyone from the storm cloud that is our lives right now." finally turning her attention to the person beside her she hummed a light "what do you think?"

meltem akçöl.

an academic weapon. that's what her teachers in high school always called her. she was bright, top of her class, always. so why was it so hard to put words to paper. she would be writing her thesis soon to graduate and yet she couldn't even get through a ten page research paper. ophelia wasn't at risk for failing or anything but she held herself to much higher standards than this. that's how the girl found herself sat in langley for going on five hours now... five hours of little to no progress. her eyes dart around the library hoping for a bit of a distraction that would ideally get her back in the right mindset to grind this paper out. chocolate hues fell on the familiar face not far from her own work set up, "lila, hey" she sighed in relief, "shit. i totally spaced on the climate policy paper. i've been trying to get anything into this document for my conservation class, sharking fining and its survival impact on immediate dependent ecosystems. " ophelia groaned at the realization that an entire paper slipped her mind. "i've had such bad brain fog recently so absolutely, swap notes, mutual rage, i'm down for it all at this point. i need to get my mind going back down the right path."

status : — closed for @opheliabinici

location : — the langley library

lila  wasn't  usually  one  for  silence.  not  the  kind  that  settled  between  bookcases,  humming  with  fluorescent  light  and  dust  motes.  but  langley  library  had  a  way  of  stilling  her  –  of  quieting  the  chaos  that  usually  lived  just  behind  her  ribs.  and  today,  she  needed  that  more  than  she  cared  to  admit.  she  sat  cross-legged  at  a  corner  table,  surrounded  by  the  organized  mess  of  open  books,  sticky  notes,  and  a  hulf-drunk  coffee  that  had  long  gone  cold.  her  laptop  was  open  but  ignored,  the  screen  dimmed  to  black.  instead,  she  was  thumbing  through  a  worn  copy  of  this  changes  everything,  underlining  with  more  pressure  than  necessary.  her  jaw  tightened  as  she  read  another  passage  that  pissed  her  off  –  in  a  good  way,  in  a  this  should  make  everyone  angry  way.  she  let  out  a  short  breath,  sat  back,  and  rubbed  at  her  temple.  “jesus,”  she  muttered  under  her  breath,  barely  loud  enough  for  anyone  to  hear.  except  someone  did.  lila  looked  up,  brows  lifting  as  her  eyes  caught  a  familiar  figure  a  few  tables  over.  ophelia.  her  hand  hovered  in  a  pause  before  waving.  “hey,”  she  said  quietly,  then  gestured  at  the  chaos  in  front  of  her.  “guess  we're  both  gluttons  for  punishment.”  a  small  smile  tugged  at  the  corner  of  her  mouth  –  rare,  but  genuine.  “i'm  digging  through  all  this  for  my  climate  policy  paper.  you  too,  or  are  you  just  here  for  the  vibes?”  she  let  her  pen  fall  against  the  table  with  a  soft  clatter,  then  tilted  her  head.  “i've  gotta  say…  it's  kind  nice.  knowing  someone  else  here  actually  gives  a  shit.”  her  voice  dropped  slightly,  more  vulnerable  than  usual.  “gets  a  little  lonely,  y'know?”  lila  shrugged  it  off  quickly,  already  shifting  back  into  something  lighter.  “anyway,  if  you  wanna  join  forces  –  compare  notes,  or  rage  about  fossil  fuel  subsidies  –  i'm  not  going  anywhere  for  a  while.” 

“Peach pits are poisonous. This is not a mistake. Girlhood is growing fruit around cyanide. It will never be yours for the swallowing.”

— Brenna Twohy, from Swallowtail  (via buttonpoetry)