viclinists

[viclinists]

emmaawoodss‌

her week home to london was everything she needed right now. to be reminded that there is a world outside the campus grounds and to be wrapped up in the arms of her parents couldn’t be described as anything short of perfect. emma felt inspired again – a stream of new ideas for her portfolio for her class taking up most of emma’s thoughts. 

one thing she remembered to bring back from london with her was a guitar her father gifted to emma for her sixteenth birthday. as soon as she had the time she naturally gravitated towards the music room ( the sound of her acoustic always sounded better there ) and hoped that she hadn’t lost her touch because it had been months since she last played. 

sitting down on a stool, tuning the guitar before finally taking a breath and began playing the chords to sia’s ‘elastic heart’ and finally, began singing the words. near the end of the song, the abrupt sound of the classroom door opening cut her off and she immediately stopped. “ uh, hi there. didn’t think anybody would be passing by this late. “

– ODETTE’S BEEN IN THE MUSIC ROOM PRACTICALLY NON-STOP LATELY. she’s been practicing hard; maybe it’s a combination of trying to impress parker with her new composition and trying to regain her seat and prove herself. either way, once again, it’s become her second home. something it hasn’t been in a while. however, it seems that the place is OCCUPIED, and it catches odette off-guard. she’s not used to running into anyone but parker this late, and from the sound of the music (not jazz) it’s definitely not parker. 

eyes widen slightly at the sight of emma, who odette hasn’t run into since emma went on vacation. she also didn’t know that emma had any musical prowess or interest – and while odette’s not the type to entertain modern pop music, she’s intrigued all the same. 

“it’s okay,” odette nods, “i’m usually here this late.” she adjusts her bag on her shoulders, not sure whether she’s going to stay or go. “you’re, um – i didn’t know you played,” odette says, nodding toward the guitar. god, why was she so awkward? a smile plays on her lips. “did you write that?” she’s so fucking clueless. 

[viclinists]

suncomely‌

        WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME jovan experienced this kind of peace and quiet? with all the recent events that occurred, he could barely remember. stress and a weird sort of tension or pressure had always been prevalent. however, here in the room with odette he can’t help but feel it all slowly melt away into nothingness. even if there existed a small part of his brain constantly concerned by the fact that there was a murderer at large, there was a certain comfort to be found in this constant that didn’t seem to have changed much. 

(was it awful of him to expect things to be the same with odette when everything else seemed to have been thrown to the wind? when the person who used to be here with them from the very beginning was suddenly found dead?)

the pencil in his hand suddenly stops moving and he squints at the unfinished illustration of a statice, tracing the lines of the stalk gingerly. he would have to redo that. midway of rummaging through his pencil case for an eraser, his ears perk up at the sound of his name. his head turns around, letting out a distracted “ hm? ” as he carelessly put the pencil case back down on the desk. jovan moves soundlessly to odette’s side as she makes space for him, leaving a small gap in between. a reminder. that this was not what it used to be. with quentin gone, it’s like something had fallen out of place for good. 

on whether that was inherently bad, however, he has yet to decide. 

“ you know you can talk to me about anything, ” jovan says after a pause, peering at her face with unconcealed worry. the words come easy, but he knows whatever it is she has to say must be hard to bring up. “ i’ll always listen. ”

– ODETTE KNOWS SHE’S DEPENDENT. she tries not to be, of course – she knows the dangers of relying on people, because quentin was always her go-to and now she feels like she’s falling, with him gone. she knows it’s dangerous to cling to jovan as she spirals, to need him, but she can’t stop herself. inherently, just like any other person, odette needs PEOPLE, and the more she tries to fight that, the more apparent it becomes. 

and he lets her, moving to her side without hesitation, but the fact that he’s there is a constant reminder; quentin is NOT. odette’s friendship with jovan has never existed without quentin before, and that much is obvious. they haven’t spent this much time alone together since they were in high school, all of their years at ashcroft were spent with quentin sandwiched in the middle – and it was good. now, there’s a gaping hole that can only be described as the absence of her brother, her twin, her protector. and while jovan is a supporter, he’s a reminder. 

there’s only a few inches of distance, but it feels like acres. odette’s scared with quentin gone, that she’s not enough – not enough to make people stay. jovan is the ultimate test because of how well he knew them both.

“yeah,” she nods, tentatively lifting her gaze to meet his. “i just...i didn’t move rooms because of all the crazy sex blaire was having. all the weird guys,” odette says. “i mean, it’s true. she does have a lot of...unsavory characters over, and they are LOUD, but i moved because of me,” she says. odette turns away, pulling her knees up to her chest. “i can’t stop having these nightmares,” she admits, voice soft. “i don’t know how to make them go away and i – i feel like i’m going crazy.” jovan will understand how much that scares her. 

[viclinists]

withouthome‌

    it’s a very backwards thing,  but all the same blaire prides herself on her CARING muscle.  the way it’s grown stiff without practice in hardened,  self-preserving years.   get close enough to brush love on the shoulder,  but not enough to be destroyed when it ends.  a lesson learned through child-like eyes from mother,  &.  never corrected by father,  eighteen years later.  where parker ainsworth is concerned,  blaire pointedly ignored her beneath-the-skin-engraved rules,  jumping– no,  diving— into an abyss of feeling from which she has never returned fully.  the metal-cold attitude MELTED with his soft words,  but failure does not end there.  odette cromwell and blaire may have never fancied themselves any spoken clarification of what they are,  but it certainly rhymes with sisters.  perhaps DISTANT sisters who never completely clicked into pinky-linking friendship,  especially the weeks after her brother’s death,  but…    it’s odette,  who has dried tears from her eyes and held back hair over a toilet bowl.  odette,  who remains the only woman,  aside from her mother,  to share a living space with blaire.  to become used to each other’s quirks,  both annoying and smart and any in between.  they have been THERE for each other.     until they haven’t.  perhaps blaire didn’t do enough when quentin…  maybe odette just needed more.  &.  that caring muscle is rickety with neglect,  but it DRAGS blaire to odette’s hideaway in ashcroft’s library with nothing but good intent   ( and beverages ! ).        “  well we have even more to catch up on, “  blaire corrects,  though her studious determination comes as no surprise.   “ —- you know,  you’re always welcome at our place,  even just for a chat.  it’s still YOURS.  like… no-one’s moving in,  “  as much as administration hounds her,  blaire remains stubborn in her brutal stance that odette’s room is ODETTE’S.   “ you…  know that, yeah? “

– BLAIRE OFTEN COMES OFF AS BOLD, ABRASIVE – INTIMIDATING. but odette has seen the sides of her that are soft, nurturing. and she knows that doesn’t come out for just anyone, and that’s part of what makes blaire so alluring – she doesn’t love easy, but when she does, she loves fiercely. and odette feels special, getting to know parts of blaire that others don’t. but she also feels guilty, knowing how fiercely blaire was there for her when she first found out what happened to her brother and yet it did NOTHING. it did nothing to change what happened and it did nothing to make her feel better. because he’s still gone and odette still wakes at night, screaming. how can she be strong like blaire? how can she be good enough?

odette knows that blaire will care for her through her night terrors, but she also knows that blaire cannot fix her – but she’s so strong, so determined that she will try. and odette can’t put her through that.

“what do you mean more?” odette inquires, tilting her head in blaire’s direction. “what happened?” at the sound of their room, her room, there’s a pang in her heart. she misses it, every part of it. her favorite window on campus, sure – the one by her old bed – but more importantly she misses not being alone. “oh?” odette nods, “yeah, i mean. i’m planning on moving back. eventually. so, that’s good.” 

[viclinists]

stoptalkingluca‌

“no i…. i’m not usually like this. i wouldn’t even…. i wouldn’t even think of saying that.” he said frowning slightly. he hadn’t even realized how hard this must be for her. she was his twin. her twin brother was killed. it was bad enough for him to think that he had killed his own parents by making one phone call. he can’t imagine how it felt like to know that your own brother was killed by someone else. he looks at her watching he as she looked collapsed against the wall. this may have been the only time that he has seen her like this at what? almost four in the morning now? he was starting to wonder if the sun was going to rise soon. “then stay with me. back in germany on breaks.” he said giving her a soft smile as he reached up and gently interlaced his fingers with hers. “can you just say you’re visiting family? i… i mean we basically are family. even if it’s an odd dynamic.” he said with a shrug as he let his deep brown stare at the ground before standing up to her level. “we should go inside. would you like to stay at my place for the night?” he asked looking at her his hues soft as he met her gaze carefully trying to make out her features. 

– “WELL, YOU KNOW,” ODETTE SHRUGS, “sometimes when you’re tired, your real thoughts slip out. you start saying what you really mean.” they said that tragedy could bring out the best in people sometimes, but it seemed at ashcroft, tragedy could bring out the worst. at least in odette’s case, she was changing – and probably not for the better. “i, um – luca, you know i can’t. i can’t leave my parents like that, not now. i mean, i could bring it up, but maybe i wasn’t their FAVORITE, but i’m all they have now.” not that they seemed to care. odette’s presence seemed to be a reminder of what they’d lost – the twins were fraternal but they looked too similar for comfort. odette didn’t want to say out loud that her parents would probably be thrilled to ship her off to luca’s for the holiday. “i’ll ask,” she says, and leaves it at that – pretending like her parents will want her home. odette’s a bit taken aback at his question, and it honestly feels like he PITIES her, either that or he doesn’t think she can take care of herself. “it’s practically morning at this point,” she says, standing to brush herself off, folding his jacket neatly and passing it back. “i don’t think i’ll sleep.” 

[viclinists]

juniperalexander‌

for once, juniper didn’t want her name in a headline, shared all over as gossip. realistically it was bad either way; if everybody knew about her father’s death, then she wouldn’t have to say much. but on the other hand, everyone knowing would instigate people to come talk to her, ask if she was okay…which juniper thought was one of the dumbest questions on the planet. while she had been keeping up with what people were sharing, responding to texts and emails and phone calls like a grieving daughter from a notable family should, all she wanted was silence. 

of course, odette was the one who got behind her in line. june resisted a sarcastic laugh, knowing she was unable to catch a break. the world might has stopped spinning for her a week ago, but that wasn’t the case for everyone else. “good to see you too, odette.” the red head spoke gently, though her eyes stayed locked ahead of her at the menu despite knowing what she already wanted. she should come up with something witty, something to make odette leave her the hell alone–but instead she chews the inside of her lip, struggling to think straight. maybe today wasn’t a good day to come back to campus after all. “i still have some time before the semester is over. don’t rush me, cromwell.” that familiar tone, the mega bitch voice that juniper had perfected over the years was still there, but barely–it was apparent she was struggling. 

– ODETTE KNOWS THAT JUNIPER IS ANYTHING BUT HAPPY TO SEE HER. what should she expect, after all? she’s the one holding her accountable for her actions. although odette was never one to really dig herself into other people’s drama, she has the inclination to do this for quentin – to tie up his loose ends. she knows in the long run, it’s a disservice. it’s probably not how he wants either girl to think of him, but odette knows she has to see out what’s RIGHT. and even if she regrets getting involved, it’s much too late to backpedal. “you don’t have to pretend,” odette says, not feeling the need for false cordial remarks.

the shake in juniper’s voice doesn’t go unnoticed, and odette wonders if it has to do with guilt or something more than that. “better to do it sooner rather than later,” odette shrugs, “you’re only making it harder on yourself by dragging it out. you know that, right?” her eyes also drift up toward the menu board, but she has no questions about her order either. it’s just something to look at. for once, odette’s voice is calm, steady. “is everything okay?” there’s not really CONCERN in odette’s voice – it’s very matter-of-fact. she’s just asking. 

[viclinists]

acewolsey‌

“i mean it hasn’t happened yet, can’t you just trust me.  i know how to handle this.”  he tried to reassure her, although his eyes still hadn’t left the sight of the nearest building.  his mind still wandering to what it would look like in flames.  he knew it would be ruining years of history – even he was saddened learning how the notre dame had been set aflame from a careless workers.  “fire burns in a v – a perfect v when there is any sort of accelerate.  you know, like gasoline,  acetone, alcohol.  anything that has one of those flammable labels on it.  weather is also a big factor, i usually only try to burn things after its rained.  that way most everything is still wet and the fire won’t be able to collect as much heat as it would like since a fire only needs three things to start and spread: oxygen, fuel, and heat.  the water takes away the heat option.” he rambled off the odette, his words slowly spiraling until he was quiet once he realized how much he was really talking about it.  

he then moved to sit on his knees, taking a few of the dried leaves to set them in a pile with a couple of other dried tinder.  “see this is all dry, it has little to no moisture left inside of it.” he explained as he lit one of the leaves aflame, carefully setting it back on the pile.  he blew softly to spread the sparks as the fire grew.  he stood up for a couple seconds to pick off fresh leaves from the tree he was sitting under.  “see these, fresh, still with dew and moisture inside of them.” he knelt back down as he sprinkled the new leaves on stop – the fire dying out slowly into a pile of smoke.  “the fuel is pretty much gone now, the leftover heat is trying to get rid of the moisture so it can turn it into fuel.  but the more you add, the less energy the fire has to convert.  and eventually.  it’s just smoke.” he commentated as the fire disappeared.  “fun– right?” he offered an awkward grin.

– “GREAT, GOOD TO KNOW THAT AT LEAST YOU’RE PLAYING WITH FIRE SAFELY,” odette drawls, and while she’s sarcastic, she’d never admit that she’s sort of intrigued. odette’s never had any sort of inclination toward starting fires – or any of the other usual tells of psychopathy, really – and she’s read enough books to know she should be concerned about someone like ace. however, there’s an earnestness to it, an honesty in his voice, and she has a feeling that he’s not a danger. at least, not to her – not to people. and certainly not on purpose. there’s definitely a comfort in how much care he takes, and how he seems to understand a level of how it works. 

“maybe for you,” she answers, but she watches the fire intently and there’s an interest in her eyes. she can’t help but be intrigued too – it’s not like anyone else has ever taken the time to talk to her about something like this. she kneels down beside him. “but why?” she asks. “is the only reason you’re out here setting old brush and leaves on fire just for fun? how’d you start doing it?” 

[viclinists]

lauderholmes‌

                     he wonders what has SNAPPED in him to make this huge, fucking mistake. typically, josh prefers not to get into fights, prefers keeping people away at a distance with an angry glare or a series of sour words –– that’s what usually works. he supposes that deep deep down, there’s certainly a part of him that didn’t want odette to be hurt, all of him that knows she doesn’t deserve being treated this way. not after all that she’s gone through. fuck. joshua was an asshole, yes, he made sure that his reputation was as such, but taunting a girl about her recently dead brother? those fucking shitheads. he could count the people on one hand he’d get into fights for –– apparently, odette had been added to that list.

the sound of odette’s pleading voice brought him back into reality for a moment. he should stop –– the blood that is spat from evan’s lips is all but a sign for a full-on brawl, one that josh is completely ready for, but he doesn’t want to draw a crowd. he only wanted to teach the prick a lesson, even if there’s a feeling in his chest that he’s just made it WORSE for her. josh wouldn’t always be there –– in fact, he would actively try not to … and yet, day after day, odette would still have to attend classes with these boys. he decides to hold back on the punches –– and for good reason. 

just fucking great. some of the students who had been chatting and walking around the area had made a circle around the scene, which meant that the authorities were just moments behind. a pair of professors and one of the campus security guards part the crowd, and his heart sinks. he knows he’s in trouble ( after all, he’s not the one with blood between his teeth ), knows that odette could be in trouble for this. joshua’s glittering record at ashcroft would finally acquire its first BLEMISH, prompting an angry call from his parents. and he’d been doing so well; he was so fucking close to getting out of this place, a career ahead of him. why was he so fucking stupid? “all three of you, come with me!” one of the professors yells, and josh doesn’t want to argue. he picks up his bag, wipes his lips, and flashes evan a menacing stare, trying so hard not to look at odette with apologetic eyes. 

– WHETHER IT’S IN HER UPBRINGING OR HER VIRGO ALIGNMENT, odette is a natural worrier. and this situation brings out the worst of it: how will the boys treat her in class next week? what will they say? will they try to hurt her? and what will happen to josh? will he hate her now too? but she’s thinking too far in the future, perhaps, because what she should really be concerned about is happening RIGHT NOW in front of her, a mess that’s not exactly of her own making, but she’s dead center. from the wrong pair of eyes, some might see her as the instigator. in fact, that’s exactly what those in authority judge it as at first glance: two boys fighting over a girl, obviously, she must be at fault. and almost all of the administration knows by now that odette cromwell hasn’t been herself lately, missing classes, losing her first chair seat; they know why, but rebellion needs to be nipped in the bud. 

odette hates the scene, and she knows that if people whispered about her before, it won’t stop now. she’s at the dead center of everyone’s attention, because, well, everyone loves to watch a tragedy; it’s all fun and games when it’s not happening to you. and there’s something satisfying about watching the pristine, perfect cromwell girl spiral – there’s a melodrama about it all that everyone wants a front row seat for. but for odette, this is her LIFE. and it feels like she’s fucking drowning. maybe josh had been a temporary life preserver once before, but from the way he averts his eyes, she can tell he doesn’t want to be that once again. so why the hell did he get involved? why would he make things worse if he had no intention of making things better?

the professor’s demands make odette’s cheeks hot with shame. she’s never been in any kind of trouble before – she’s always dependable. teachers ask her to watch the class when they step out, classmates beg for her notes. she does NOT get reprimanded. so, she follows suit with both evan and josh, strangely stuck in the middle of a dispute she never wanted to instigate. she’s panicking, face pale, sweating; her record is fucking spotless and she likes it that way, she prides herself in it. if she doesn’t have that, what does she have left? they file into the classroom. 

“i’d demand to know what happened, but i don’t think i could get the truth from any of you,” a pointed glare. professor hastings isn’t having any bullshit today – with the lydia situation, everyone’s on edge. “so i’ll make it simple. week’s detention. ALL of you.” odette feels PATHETIC for tearing up, but god, it feels like her world is ending. 

[viclinists]

calixtcrian‌

the tinted light of the setting sun covered ashcroft university in an almost lilac shimmer, painting the buildings and those who passed calixte in a rather ironically beautiful shine considering the circumstances all of them had to deal with. he had been sitting quietly in his behaviour and loud as ever in the choice of his clothes, catching the last streaks of sunlight on his skin, and staring with trance-like concentration at his own lighter. his thumb ran repeatedly and  in a rapid movement across the flint wheel. there was a golden spark – there’s always a spark – but no flame. the suggestion of a defeated sigh heaved his chest and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes, his gaze thus landing on of the other students. “ do you believe in fate? “ he asked, skipping the simplicity of normal chit-chatting, skipping even the formality of a ‘ hello ‘, “ in luck? or chance? however you want to call it — or is life a series of coincidences? “ 

– ODETTE HASN’T EXCHANGED MANY WORDS WITH LIXTE, despite their family history. always the more softspoken child, she hung near the back while quentin exchanged harsh words, and while she never agreed, she never disagreed either. maybe she was a coward for not caring. but now, in lieu of changes, she can’t help but be curious about him. “not really,” odette says, “things happen, sometimes they’re shitty or good, but...it’s not because of fate. it’s because of PEOPLE.” she’s surprised that he’s even bothered to talk to her, but she takes the bait. “life isn’t coincidence, it’s...it’s what we make of it. if we work hard or if we don’t...” she pauses. “why?”

[viclinists]

stoptalkingluca‌

“no— it’s not fine.” he said his brows furrowing slightly. instantly he felt bad about his words. this was why no one should really talk to him at this hour. he really did have no filter and it would oftentimes get him into trouble. this was the time when luca didn’t really care what he did or said unlike during the day when his brain was so haywire he couldn’t even sit still. he looks up at her in surprise though when she leans against the wall. is she actually going to join him? who knows. “i can’t just do that to you… really don’t pay attention to… to tired me. that probably hasn’t slept in two days. you didn’t deserve any of that.” he said quietly as he looked down at the ground nervously fiddling with his fingers in his lap. there was that sign that he couldn’t sit still. at least some of that showed right now. “but he’s my best friend. or…… or was? i don’t even know.” he said furrowing his brows slightly. “it’s lonely, coming home to an empty mansion with no one in it these days.” he said finally as he looked up at her studying her curiously. it was quiet between them for a moment and he let it stay that way for a while until he finally spoke up. “we should go on a trip. or something. y’know to get out of here.” 

– “IT’S FINE, I’M...I MEAN, I SHOULD BE GETTING USED TO IT,” whispers have died down since lydia has returned – everyone’s got something better to talk about now, but she knows the things people say about her. “at least you’ve got the decency to say it to my face, you know?” she says with a wry smile. she knows that she’s not going anywhere – the successful cromwell? he’s GONE. and god, it feels so shitty to be the one left standing, like she doesn’t deserve it. luca’s words hammer that home. “maybe it’s a sign that you just need more time,” odette says, “it’s good to force yourself into situations that are hard for you if you know they’re good, but...healing is hard. only you know what you can handle.” odette leans back against the wall, not caring how the brick flattens her bun. “yeah, i’m sure,” she nods. she doesn’t say that it might be just as lonely to come home to a full mansion – with her parents and servants around, for some reason it might as well be empty. “a trip?” odette shakes her head, “no way, i can’t. not in the middle of the investigation.” people would talk. would the police even let her out of the country?

[viclinists]

svintcyrrie‌

        He bites his bottom lip as his eyes trail to his feet once more , trying to gather his thoughts - and looking at Odette only makes it harder , given she resembles the topic of conversation greatly and as well , he knows this conversation’s only making her upset. Only providing her with answers that don’t do much help , instead giving her information that reinstates the idea that she doesn’t know QUENTIN as much as she’d like. But when she states that he’d know better , he looks back up and shakes his head. ❝ Fuck no. ❞

        Because that’s not true at all. He thinks upon as much as he’s talked with Quentin , as much as he’s shared information with him. How Cyrus would open up to the other because he felt SPECIAL - only to realize that was not at all the case and toss that dream out the window. He wanted to feel wanted. And in turn , he’d share. But when thinking about everything Quentin told him - ❝ Believe it or not , I actually know nothing. ❞ Or that’s what it felt like. ❝ I can only tell you … my part in it , I guess. But the only thing I really know is that I was a secret and a problem. ❞ And now Odette had given him the reason why ; or at least ,  a possible reason why that never made light. Why nobody knew about it. And it made sense , at least , even though Cyrus was certain the other didn’t even reciprocate the feelings he formed.

          But a nod. ❝ I mean … you are his sister.  ❞ A shrug. ❝ Why not ?? ❞

– ODETTE NOTICES THE LOOK IN HIS EYES, how it changes, and it only provokes more questions. after all, she’ll never have any idea how quentin felt about cyrus or any of this – she can never ask him. and that’s what hurts the most. odette only knows that it must have been hard for quentin, not only to harbor such a secret, but that he must have felt so conflicted. after all, odette knows WHY he would’ve never told anyone, with parents that had raised them with such strict, traditional values. odette still hasn’t come to terms with the parts of herself that she knows her parents won’t accept – especially now, she can’t bear to disappoint them. and quentin was always the favorite, and he REVELED in that, careful to follow their father’s every footstep.

whatever cyrus was, it wasn’t according to plan.

“i want to know,” odette says. “i want to know everything.” and she does. it hurts to uncover her brother’s secrets, but finding out things she never knew almost makes her feel like he’s still there, in a way. she’s still getting to know him. “i’m sorry, i...i know it must have been hard, but, i can sort of understand why and what he was going through. our parents, they would never – they always raised us to think – so um, whatever he took out on you, it was probably because he felt bad about himself,” odette said, “you don’t know the things our father says about...people that don’t live up to his expectations of normal.” odette sighs, “and quentin wasn’t always the best about...showing people he cared. he used to test people, to see how much they loved him – to see if they would leave. some might call it a power trip, but i think he was scared.” 

odette holds the drawing in her hands and nods slightly. “okay. if you don’t mind, then...yeah, i’d like to keep it. it’s actually really good, you know.” 

[viclinists]

a vintage retailer i follow on insta did a pop up shop & i found the linen skirt of my dreams so i’m thriving ✨✨ gonna get to replies in a sec 

also if u wanted a pupdate 🐶my dog went to the internist and it’s a lymphatic thing that we can (hopefully) fix w steroids so i am really relieved that it wasn’t a heart condition like we thought and feeling good, thank u for the good vibes 

[viclinists]

aiinsworths‌

                  sometimes ashcroft felt like an ENTIRELY different chapter of his life: his father was mostly out of the picture ( only to send him cheques and check in on him once a month ), he moved to an entirely different world, made new friends whomst parker considered family. but there were people like the cromwells upon whom he could rely during the tense and anxious transition –– odette’s parents included, in their own, weird way. they always liked him, maybe because he made an effort to be the very best version of himself around them. he wondered what they’d think of him if they knew the REAL parker ainsworth, one who periodically still cried himself to sleep, one who didn’t have a concrete plan for his future, one who was LYING to his very own father. they probably wouldn’t smile at him, chat with him the same way …

he rests his elbows on his lap, rests his chin on the palms of his hands. “yeah, okay, it’s pretty damn good, odette,” he concedes after she scoffs at him. “i dunno. i like it –– a lot. it sounds like … you know, different, as you said. but a GOOD different. and maybe i’m biased or something, but it sounds more like your own stuff, original. not like you’re playing someone else’s music.” to them, that was like speaking someone else’s words –– and though there were decades of material to take inspiration from, any great musician wanted to WRITE their own stuff. “i mean … don’t feel pressured to try and finish it right away. try a couple things out. even if they’re terrible ideas, you might get surprising inspiration from something,” parker says, offering some of the advice he uses when writes some of his solos –– not that she didn’t know that already. “great music isn’t rushed, right?” 

– ODETTE PAUSES, TAKING IN HIS WORDS. odette holds his opinion more highly than most other people she knows – not because she thinks parker truly understands classical music, but he does understand music. that’s not it though – it’s because she trusts him. there will always be a part of her that wants to impress parker, to make him feel proud of her. she can’t help that. maybe she’s not as COOL as a freewheeling jazz musician, cutting loose in the center of a trendy jazz club, but she’s just as much of an artist, in her own way. “yeah, i don’t know, i felt the need for a change, to try something new,” odette says, “i’m still getting used to it.” her brow furrows slightly, on the cusp of teasing she says – “so, you’re saying you hated my old stuff?”

odette hangs on to his words, nodding slightly. "yeah, you’re right – this once,” odette jokes, a smile playing on her lips. “but, yeah, i’ve got other things to practice too. this will happen in time.” she’s sure it will see many tweaks before the end result anyway. “have you had a lot of time to play lately?” she asks. 

[viclinists]

open starter for @suncomely

– THEY HANG OUT LIKE THIS OFTEN. just peacefully, doing their own things without any obligation to constantly be talking. odette likes that – the ability to be by herself but not be alone. she’s curled up with her book and jovan is doing whatever the hell else. he doesn’t have to talk for her to feel safer that he’s there – it’s only WEIRD because quentin isn’t. over the past few years, it’s always been the three of them, the musketeers, a constant in her life. she worries that now that’s changed, it’s only a matter of time before jovan doesn’t stick around. 

some might call their relationship complicated considering their history, but to odette, it’s very simple: he’s her best friend. of course, once he’d been one of her best friends – but without quentin, there’d maybe been a promotion. all the more reason she doesn’t want to lose him.

odette shifts in her bed, closing her book and setting it aside. “jovan?” she scoots to make space for him. “can i...talk to you about something?” stupid question, but she can’t help but feel anxious about it. 

[viclinists]

[viclinists]

starter for @monicadvx

– ODETTE’S IN AN AWKWARD POSITION WHEN IT COMES TO MONICA. on one hand, they’ve never gotten along – she never liked monica while quentin dated her, she thought they were bad, toxic for one another, and things haven’t changed now. maybe she’s intimidated by her strength, her confidence, but she’d never admit something like that. however, if that weren’t enough, she’s placed herself in a vulnerable position – showing up at pierce’s door with some sort of pathetic confession with monica inches away, sitting in his bed. 

the ball was in monica’s court and she held the upper hand, regardless of what went down between odette and pierce. 

it was sort of complicated – was odette the other woman? was monica? did it matter? either way, she can’t help the rage that courses through her veins when she thinks of them together, how stupid she feels showing up there expecting some sort of happily ever after. 

odette’s early to the society meeting – she has a book to return and she thinks she’ll get some peace and quiet to compose herself, but OF COURSE, she’s never so lucky. sitting in the center of warren’s office when she enters is monica herself, and odette immediately turns a dark shade of red. “don’t –” odette interjects before she can stop herself, “just don’t say anything, okay?” she doesn’t think she can bear it. 

[viclinists]

withouthome‌:

@viclinists

   odette cromwell and blaire may resume their stance in impossible friendship.  perhaps one of the most unlikely pairs at ashcroft,  the two young women are opposites in any which way.  where odette preserves control,  blaire blends in CHAOS.  one’s herbal tea,  the other black coffee.  a lady orchestrates a music room,  a dame hails a dance studio.  in the library,  they meet in the middle.  meld together,  similarities EXPOSED—-  &.  there are more than a few.      double-cupped lemongrass tea in one hand,  double-cupped americano in the other,  and odette is not hard to find.  not because she stands out—- although,  she does.  her surname does that to her,  just as blaire’s did back home;  the punchline.    although in odette’s case,  from the book-stands at ashcroft,  cromwell grieves sympathy,  not mockery.  all the same,  it’s attention that odette cannot persuade,  nor fully acknowledge.  what was all that about control?        “  hey bitch, “   blaire warmly whispers—  a half-assed yield to the universal rule of silence in the library.  there’s no written dress code,  but there probably should be.  gym shorts,  sports tank bra  &.  windbreaker draws a couple of eyes when the dancer slides in the seat adjacent.              or maybe she just can’t whisper as well as she thought she could.              “  study break? “   it’s a non-question,  really.  blaire’s brow inches up in suggestion,  sparkling eyes trying their magic on her stubborn friend,  if the tea placed in front of her doesn’t help her budge any.

- IN SOME WAYS, BLAIRE IS ODETTE’S PERFECT FOIL. when things spiral for blaire, she explodes, acts out – she’s like a bomb. odette pulls in on herself, suffering in silence. where blaire is a hurricane, odette is a drop in the ocean. blaire should have been the type of person that odette would shy away from, she breeds violence and recklessness, things odette fears. and maybe there was tension on first, but blaire’s grown on her – an unspoken fondness, a desire to protect her. odette knows that blaire fears more than she lets on. 

“hi,” odette says, refraining from profanity in her response. she misses blaire, she misses the sounds of blaire’s music, laying in bed with a book. soft grunts hello in the morning, too tired for a proper greeting. ditching the dining hall in favor of takeout. now, the silence of her single room is deafening; lonely. maybe she’d wished for a single in the months that blaire was dating parker, but now that she had one, it was even more torturous. missing her. during their last conversation, odette had tread carefully, not sure if blaire was upset with her, not sure if blaire understood.

she reaches for the tea and she can smell it – blaire knows her well, she’s too familiar to show up with a cappuccino in hand. odette can’t help but smile at the warm familiarity of it. “yeah, only for a little bit,” she relents, “i have a lot to catch up on.” 

[viclinists]

cleograhm‌:

chemistry. more like cleo’s second home. without a single doubt in mind, she ALWAYS headed for the classroom. even in her free periods, she was always found at her desk with some sort of practical experiment in her hands. today wasn’t any different. 

the blonde was dressed in her USUAL genre of attire; plaid skirts with a neatly iron shirt and a jumper thrown over the top but tucked into her skirt. whenever she was in the chemistry lab, her lab coat was draped over her and safety goggles were never far from her head or hands. gaze shifting between textbook and equipment with precision, she was sure this experiment was going to cause a bang OR bubble over. maybe she had finally perfected the case for her exam? 

a look of achievement spread across her visage, palms resting flat against the surface of the desk. attention diverted for a MERE few seconds then suddenly a bang followed with a few bubbles. uh oh, this was BAD. this wasn’t supposed to happen. with her shock, she fell from her stool to the floor but didn’t let it phase her. instead she hid behind the desk just in time of another explosion. 

it wasn’t deadly but safety always came first. 

– ODETTE ISN’T EXACTLY A CHEM WHIZ, in fact – science has never been her strong suit. she’s only in the lab to drop something off for a professor, so she’s completely unprepared for the explosion that follows, a loud bang, odette cries out in surprise, jumping back. always jumpy. TOO jumpy lately, maybe. she collects herself, cheeks red with embarrassment as she turns her attention toward the source of the noise, “jesus christ,” she mutters, locking eyes with cleo in the chemistry lab. awkwardness settles on her features, a girl she’d once been close friends with until she’d made apparent that she preferred to spend time with a different cromwell. odette was used to people picking favorites, but it didn’t make her any less bitter and insecure. 

“i thought you were a little better at that sort of thing,” odette says with a nod of her head, voice terse.