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*flops online* so who’s gonna kiss mag, hmmmm ?

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shilo wallace   //   goddaughter !

@finalopera  /  ♥’d this post

           ❝ what did you and mom used to do together? ❞ she asks, and now that her nerves have worn down, she is positively GIDDY.  how often has she daydreamed about meeting blind mag?  now they are tucked away in her room like old friends.

       WARMTH SPREADS ACROSS HER CHEEKS, beaming at the young woman who eerily resembled that of her best friend. in many ways, it amused the singer how just as shilo dreamed about meeting her, mag had always dreamt about meeting the wallace family’s child. never in a million years did she think the chance would still remain. “   there’s so much to tell,   “ she replied softly, painted lips curving into a rare, genuine smile   ------   one she never showcases to the public press. “   for a while, before my surgery, she was my guide. we used to sing together a lot   ;   she’d help me practice getting my voice in top shape before a performance.   “

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       EVEN WITH A BODYGUARD PRESENT at her side, the singer was not fond of wandering the dark streets at night.ever alert her head would react   &   turn to every rustle   &   sound that echoed down the alleyway. “   hello ?   “ she called out, hands coming down to gently pull down the hood that covered her pale visage. azure eyes would glisten in the darkness, attempting to focus on the figure before her. uncertainty crossed her features for a brief moment   ------   something about this person seemed awfully familiar. “   show yourself !   “

          (   @zydratedealer   |   starter !   )

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       reporter: mag ! when do you think you’ll find the oNE ?        mag: *cue fake smile* uhhhh   ------   next question

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                              what perfection!  what precision!      /     repossessed by cole. 

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Let your life be a dream. Integrity. Honesty. It’s too late for me. Don’t look back till you’re free to chase the morning…

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       MAG IS NOT A VERY MATERIALISTIC PERSON. while yes, she owns many pieces of jewelry   &   has an array of outfits, most were provided by GENECO   &   therefore, she feels no true connections toward them. in her dressing room, she tries to stay as minimalistic as possible   ------   allowing a few candles, posters from older shows   &   costumes that either GENECO bought or she made herself. she does like to make her own costumes, but time often does not allow her the ability. her most prized possession is a photo of marni she keeps at her dressing room table at all times, feeling as though it brings her luck at every performance. whenever she feels in doubt or lost, the photograph tends to bring her comfort.

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cassian andor   //   GENECO guard !

cassian didn’t like the parties that the largos tended to throw on almost a weekly basis. to be perfectly honest, there was not much about the largos he did like. the children were spoiled little brats, and the father – the savior of geneco – was the devil in sheep’s clothing. he would rather spend his time on the streets than to be at another of of their galas. but – work was work. and he was good at it. rather ; cassian’s dark gaze and unrelenting disposition was eager for the moment that geneco were to teeter and begin to crumble.

he had a lazy grip on his weapon to one side – just enough that it warned party guests not to try anything. but loose enough that he wasn’t a threat unless needed. his gaze flickers to the side with surprised curiosity when someone grabs at him ; the instant reaction for him to tense up, muscles coiled, before his eyes settle on who it was. blind mag was someone, out of all of geneco, that he at the least had respect for. she was different than the others – she seemed to still cling to her humanity. “of course, ma’am -” he’s breathing, giving her a slight nod. 

       SACCHARINE SMILE SPREADS ACROSS HER COUNTENANCE, eager to proceed   &   finally leave the dreaded gala behind them. thank goodness for this guard’s kind obedience, knowing well that not all guards would have quickly responded positively as he had. hands would gently squeeze the bicep she clung on to, head bowing in response. “   i truly appreciate your help.   “ almost too quickly, the soprano begins moving in the direction of the exit, desperate to get across without so much as another attendee stopping to sing her praises. mag realizes perhaps she shouldn’t be dragging the poor guard around like this, but there was no way she would have been able to sneak out of this event on her own. his rifle, perhaps, helped to speak volumes that she would never utter aloud to those that did view them   ------   gossiping tongues immediately silenced.

       THE NOISE OF THE GALA QUICKLY becomes but a distant echo once they leave the area, a giant sigh of relief leaving the singer as she finally releases the guard from the confines of her hands. “   apologies,   “ she would reply, tone dripping with a genuine air. “  despite what the media may have you believe, no one DETESTS those silly parties more than i.   “ an amused chuckle escapes her breath, feeling much more comfortable now that they were away from the suffocating event   ;   the cool air of the night ran through her petite form. “   may i ask of your name, sir ?   “ she queries lightly. “   if it is alright with you, i’d like to know the name of the man who helped me escape the dreaded largo ‘ show   &   tell. ‘  “

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luigi largo   //   smartest   &   the toughest !

           GET  A  FUCKING  GRIP !   he’s shaking, muscles taut beneath heavily - scarred skin.  he casts but a brief glance at Mag as she approaches, embarrassment lighting his cheeks like wildfire ;  of all the people to witness his temporary lapse in control, why’d it have to be her?  lips are parted by a quick swipe of his tongue before teeth dig into his lower lip, gnawing, willing the pink flesh to break and spill forth a bit of blood to  even the score?  hopefully snap him back into reality.  

         she’s seen him at his worst, and less often  –  if it truly even exists  –  his best, for the past sixteen years.  violent outbursts weren’t uncommon for the eldest Largo, but so rarely do they shake him so thoroughly ;  strong fingers flinch and tremble as he snatches the shirt from her grasp, chest shuddering with ragged, uneven breaths.  

         ❛   s - stupid  fucker  couldn’t keep his  goddamn  hands  to his fuckin’  self  —– ❜

       EYES TAKE A FLEETING GLANCE AT THE ELDEST LARGO before focusing her attention elsewhere, taking note of his suddenly quaking form. while the soprano was used to seeing the fits of rage that tended arise without much warning, she has never seen the man quite so distressed from an ‘ incident ‘   ------   not like this. pearly whites would sink into her own lip, carefully pondering what her next action should be. despite his famed anger, the singer knew that luigi largo would not DARE lay a hand on her. still, it didn’t mean she would purposefully seek to upset him further. mag may have her own opinions on the largos, but even she was incapable of malice, even when justified. besides, rotti largo would NEVER be the one to console his children for any situation. while she wasn’t quite too fond of the idea, someone needed to be there for them. it just seemed sad that the responsibility would befall on her.

       “   LUIGI PLEASE.   “ her tone is soft like a quiet symphony, eyes flashing a brief azure light as she finally raises her head to meet his gaze. there was no sign of judgement on her face, nor disappointment. that was not what he needed at this time. instead, she would merely try to listen, knowing that was the best way to help ease his temper. “   try to breathe. what’s done is done. focus on making yourself presentable again.   “ wine stained lips would curve into a small smile. it was FORCED no doubt, but the eldest largo didn’t need to know that. “   you shouldn’t always have to harm another person when they do something to upset you, luigi. you’re going to FRIGHTEN all your assistants away if you continue on like this.   “

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       CASUAL SOCIALIZATION WAS NO LONGER one of mag’s strongest points, seeing as she saw no reason to mingle with those she despised. most of the people rotti had her speak to were the rich elite who had the wealth necessary to afford frequent changes to their appearance   &   avoid the blade of the repo men   ------   uncaring as to the real   &   crumbling world that lay outside their castle doors. this gala that the largo’s had prepared was as dull as it was pretentious, merely put on as an excuse to showcase their good fortune while holding the facade that they actually ‘ cared ‘ for the people who sought a cure for their illnesses. it was disgusting   &   the soprano would do anything to leave   &   retreat for the evening. if only she could find a way   ------

       OUT OF THE CORNER OF HER EYES, she spot’s one of rotti’s bodyguards. not the women who hovered behind him at all times, but one of the many he tended to employ to hunt after more rogue-ish thugs, such as GRAVEROBBERS   &   the like. a plan begins to form in her mind as she quietly slips closer to the man, an arm slowly slinking around his. eyes would scan their surroundings, only speaking when she felt they were far away from the other party-goers. “   i wish to leave this place.   “ she whispered, an anxious air dripping from her tongue. “   could you perhaps escort me to my dressing room ?   “

          (   @rebelsouled​   |   starter !   )

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       WHILE SHE HAD BECOME VERY ACCUSTOMED to seeing the eldest largo parade around sans shirt, it didn’t mean she was particularly pleased when he did so. normally it meant that he had recently harmed someone, or more accurately, murdered them in cold blood during one of his usual temper spats. mag remembers once a time where such actions would put someone of luigi’s mental state behind bars for good. but of course, rotti largo would never allow one of his own to be put in prison   ------   but not out of genuine care. the largo name carried a lot of reputation,   &   with that great weight, rotti was forced to protect his flesh   &   blood, lest he have his own name dragged in the mud along with them. the largo family may be rich in wealth, but they were poor in other ways.

       THE SOPRANO WOULD GLIDE ACROSS THE ROOM towards one of luigi’s many assistants   ;   poor thing shaking as he held a nice pristine shirt, obviously frightened of the man he worked for. gently, she would offer the frightened man a smile, taking the shirt   &   allowing him the chance to leave. no need for more blood to be split that day. “  what happened this time ?   “ exasperated tone queries, offering him the clean shirt with a shake of her hand   ;   as if begging him to cover up.

          (   @hatesdecaf   |   starter !   )

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marni wallace   //   best friend !

      the woman’s heart – as strained as it was at times – felt like it was about to hammer out of her ribcage and through her chest for the world to see ; to paint the leaves between them shades of crimson that would surely wash away with the rain that impended above them in the angry skies. marni too was at a loss – her brows twisting deeply inwards, her expression pained, as she took a careful step towards the singer – her best friend. ( former ? marni wasn’t sure. there wasn’t much that marni wallace was sure of anymore. ) a breath catches itself in her throat, strangling her all the way up as if she was swallowing ashes and choking on soot. the moon hung low behind mag – as if casting a halo upon the woman that she used to know better than anyone. the woman that used to know HER better than anyone. and, oh, she did not know a broken heart could ache anymore than it had from the revelations she had received after waking ; the revelations of what had become of her happy family.

       she tries to swallow past the ache – the lump – in her throat ; and her heart is pounding in her ears like it very well might escape its confides ( oh, times she wishes that it would ). she moistens her lips and takes another small step forward, ignoring the groan of fallen leaves below her gait – and, finally, as meek as it was, she called out to her,            “ mags? Is that you? “

       HER BREATH QUAKES IN RESPONSE TO HER NICKNAME   ------   one that she hadn’t been called in over seventeen years. everything was seeming so surreal at this point that mag had a difficult time taking it in   ;   the sudden emotional overload overwhelming her sense. curiosity shines in her almond eyes, tempted to merely close the space that separated the two friends   &   take marni in for a long deserved embrace. but despite her desire to finally have a happy reunion with the woman before her, the singer couldn’t help but still hold a bit of fear over her head. what of this was all just an illusion ? a ghost of her past come to haunt her for all the sins she had committed under the vile cooperation known as GENECO ? suffering through the heartbreak of the loss of marni has already taken it’s toll   ;   mag was certain she could never suffer through anything like that ever again without her own soul shattering right alongside her heart.

       SMALL STEPS ARE TAKEN AS MAG’S courage carries her closer   ------   desperate to solve this mystery   &   determine who this woman really was. slender fingers tug on the hood of her coat, revealing porcelain countenance fully beneath the glimmering moonlight. soon afterward, the soprano fingers would tremble as the reached for marni wallace’s cheek, an audible gasp escaping her lungs once the pads of her fingers made contact with warm skin. she was real. “   marni,   “ she breathes, heart escalating as her fingers lingered against her cheek. so many questions came flooding through her mind right now, but they would have to come later. “   ------   nathan said you were dead.   “ her voice is like a whisper, yet it still flowed from her lips like a melody   ;   a small operetta starring the two former friends was beginning to unfold.

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       I’M STILL WORKING ON ICONS   &   debating on changing my theme, but like this for a starter of some kind today !

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“Mag, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. The daughter of an old friend, a ghost from your past.”