all my past lives, they got nothin' on me

“no, that’s the other one,” he said with a certainty that was often lacking in his other conversations. he was not one to speak without thinking, without going over his words several times, but he took the liberty to do so here. “i think– last time you heard a cauldron of hot strong love, you said it was revolting and that they must have sampled the screeches of a thousand mandrakes. it was rather funny.”

the memory brought a small smile on his face now, the corners of a grin lilting just enough upwards to be noticeable. while it was not unusual for him to be found with a smile, there was an earnestness in his eyes that was saved for few. “you might not care for them, but you’ve certainly heard them loads of times, opal,” he reminded her gently, “i don’t think we’ve been to a wedding where they didn’t play one or the other.”

“mom used to play them too,” jasper tacked on, before shrugging, “but that was when we were really young, so maybe you don’t remember that.”

he furrowed his brow, deep in thought. suddenly, he couldn’t recall whether she had played the songs for all three of the triplets or just him. he had a vision of lucinda chasing the other two in the garden, trying to wrangle them, as celestina warbeck’s warbling voice played in the background. perhaps– she had played them just for him. 

“ oh, duh, “  opal said, like that had cleared anything up for her. it didn’t mind much to her whether it did or didn’t; jasper seemed more assured of her answer to his question than she had been, and she was happy to let her brother take the reigns on this one. she trusted him  ---  in general, yes, but his memory for events was better than hers. most anything short of momentous turned hazy upon recall, which was fine by her. the important things stayed. and jasper would always be around to remind her of her exact insult of an ancient song.  “ maybe I don’t care for them precisely because I’ve heard them loads, “  she countered, a soft smile to match his framing her words. 

“ I swear, my wedding, when it happens, will only have music from this century. barring that, it’ll at least only have music that’s decent. “  she shook her head, cast back suddenly into a dozen hazy memories of weddings and events with their mother’s quidditch circle  ---  the mandrake-like crooning sending gathered adults into a tizzy every time her songs played.  “  ---  and if you must play her at your wedding, I beg you, for my sake, limit it to two songs. “

if he wanted to play more of her  ( for whatever reason, honestly, opal couldn’t stand celestina  ---  )  opal knew she’d allow it. but she had to seem firm in this lest he get any crazy ides about cauldron full of hot strong love, dear merlin. 

“yeah, but you don’t.” he replies lazily, vocal cords dragging across the words as his eyes continue down the page. inferi are not the only instance of magic which can re-animate the dead, nor are they the darkest, but they are the most consistent. his eyes flicker upwards, just briefly, and he snorts. “no. legilimency is a little too… invasive, and a little too waffley, for my taste. kinda like divination. anyone can change their mind. nothing’s set in stone - except for the fact that you are far, far too cookie cutter to want to read secrets of the darkest arts. and the light’s mine ‘cause i got here first.” he replies, carefully marking his page and closing the book. “oh, you wanna bet?” a smirk takes over z’s features. “we’ll start with the fact that you’re sixth year, and i’m guessing you’re here for class, given i don’t usually see you skulking the booths in this section. you’re not here for potions or herbology - those books are about four shelves back towards the entrance. and like i said - you’re cookie cutter. so it’s not some interest in dark magic, all of a sudden. so it’s either a history book they’ve deemed too risque to risk younger kids getting their hands on - or it’s something dangerous, but not dark. sixth year, in this climate… no, it won’t just be advanced defense stuff. my guess? well, you’re either struggling with wandless magic, or you’re excelling and you want to know more. if i’m right, check the middle shelf there. should find what you’re looking for.”

where: library; restricted section when: monday, february 26th, morning who: open

there’s a girl gone. z heard the plan, of course, and tasted bloody, metallic bitterness in his throat at the idea that they might need him. might ask him to take her. to hurt her. make her squeak. but she was already gone, and he hides that relief in a smile. they’re safe, for now. he doesn’t need to do evil. the worst part is that he’s sort of… not sad about it, no. but he  feels empty. and that’s terrifying. sickening. and there’s nothing that he can fill himself with. so he settles on books: on the library, on poring over information that dances on the edge of darkness, holed up in the restricted section and hoping for some peace of mind - not that it’s at all likely. his wand twirls between two fingers of his left hand: between the fingers of his right, the cross necklace he tries not to let become obvious. he’s so engrossed that he doesn’t hear footsteps between the shelves until his dim firelight becomes even dimmer. “i know bloody well you don’t want this book. and i know there’s plenty of other seats. so why’re you blocking my light?”

 the presence of the other brought a sense of lightheartedness to mailan. she could feel light drops of rain drizzle over where they stood. the soft breeze that went along with the rain caused goosebumps to adorn her skin. rainy days felt peaceful but gloomy. and the dark clouds that towered above them reflected the most recent events. “i am purely amazed at such skill.” the un-smugness in opal’s voice caused mailan’s smile to double in size. maybe between the two of them, they could make the day bright again. “hm, yeah. that’s definitely true. though i love snow but it would have made me want to not get up at all. the best thing about snowy days is staying up cuddled up underneath thousands of blankets.” 

  she never knew what to expect with the weather; maybe she should have asked the divination professor. “you do? how so? and honestly, i don’t know if i’m ever in the mood for the air. i’m like terrified of falling. i love watching people fly. though but my skills are so mediocre. i’ve forgotten everything i learned on my first year.” there was a pause, and then she hummed. going to the greenhouses would certainly be more in her comfort zone but maybe she should step out of it. “and while i’m terrified, i’m not about to chicken out. i’ll give it a try but only because i trust you.”

opal dropped a mock curtsy as she let the compliment wash over her. in some ways, she felt as suited to receiving compliments as she was to hanging out in the rain. both things felt revitalizing to the youngest talkalot  ---  like doing a face-mask, except she didn’t really have to do anything. so, like doing a face-mask but better. 

“ stop, “  she said, a smile still set firmly over her face. her words gushed out sharp and sunny despite the water still settling down around them.  “ I believe you could have some skills in the air if you set your mind to it. a few lessons from me? and you’d be so. skilled. who’d even need what you learned in first year after that? “  she leaned into mailan, smacked the back of her hand lightly on the other girl’s shoulder. a companionable gesture.  “ trust me, the more time you spend in the air the more you forget falling is even a thing that happens to other people. it’s like, totally a mind over matter thing. though  ---  I guess I can acquiesce to snow being good cozying weather. “

when: lunchtime  where: the great hall open to students

once, when he was very young, jasper talkalot had lost his family in diagon alley. he was certain they were right behind him (as they had all been looking into the window at quality quidditch supplies a moment ago), but, by the time he actually decided to check, there was no one there.  he had panicked for a moment, started walking off into the street, before he remembered an errant tidbit that he had learned a few weeks prior: most people lost in the woods often made things worse for themselves by journeying deeper into the unknown. this was not the woods, he knew, but he figured that it was still best to stay put, sitting down on the sidewalk and waiting for his mother to notice he was missing. 

thankfully, it hadn’t taken long. 

that day, as a panicked lucinda talkalot saw her eldest child sitting in the middle of a busy street staring off into the clouds, she couldn’t help but ask, “where is your head, jasper? what in the world is going on in your mind?”

he had started to say something about the woods, something about survival tips, but one of his siblings had interjected with a huff, “it’s just jasper, mom. you know how he is. he always has his head in the clouds.”

in the years since, he had thought of that moment often. and while he hadn’t appreciated the tone of voice being used, he had thought the descriptor rather apt. jasper was a simple man. he was hardly ever thinking about anything other than a few nebulous and flighty topics. his current preoccupations were quidditch (in which his head was literally in the clouds), on occasion, the object of his affections (which, in his view, was about as close to heaven and, thus, the clouds, as he was about to get) and his family (he admitted this one didn’t really quite fit the cloud metaphor.

nevertheless, it was, thus, unsurprising that, during their lunch break in the great hall, jasper had his head in the clouds again. when he finally grounded himself long enough to be aware of the world around him, his companion was looking at him like they expected him to say something. after trying to recall what they wanted from him and failing miserably, he took a bite from his sandwich, nonplussed.

“yes,” he said firmly, though he was not quite sure about what exactly he was agreeing to. 

“tell me this, though–” he changed the topic, “is it a cauldron full of hot strong love that goes like this,“ he hummed a few bars, “or is it magic magic man?“

opal shook her head at him and turned back to her own lunch. a fond gesture, really. 

the truth was that opal rarely thought through her words much, when making idle conversation, and thus couldn’t be bothered to recall such things without a jog to her memory. she knew she made perfect sense whether or not she chose her words with care. ( caring, then, was wasted energy ) she’d never admit that she’d already half forgotten her own question by this point. besides  ---  jasper’d already steered the conversation on for them.  

“ I don’t think I know much of anything about her body of work, “  opal said, a breezy tone set to breeze over the admission she didn’t know much about something. she glanced back up at jasper and cocked her head  ---  doing her best to think back over any celestina songs she might’ve heard, once or twice. opal had never cared for love songs; this was a topic she couldn’t have been more unsuited towards, but for her brother, she’d try. she waved her fork around in the air between them.  “  ...  is magic magic man the one that makes me want to vomit, a little? if yeah, I think the one you’re thinking of is the other one. “

“ that’s irrational. ”

opal threaded a strand of hair between her index and middle finger  ---  sliding both down until she reached the ends, which she flipped up and examined. could she do with a haircut? her ends looked fairly healthy but surely a revitalizing trim couldn’t hurt. anyway; the train of thought distracted her from audrey’s statement, which, damn it all, did still need a response. she liked audrey and at times even felt a kinship with the slytherin. but anytime she had to acquiesce to another person  ( whether she liked them or not, and she did, in this case )  opal felt an odd squirming somewhere in the vicinity of her ribcage, like her lungs didn’t think she should ever admit defeat. her lungs had a point.  “ oh, alright, “  opal said. she looked up from her hair and made eye contact with audrey, a bright smile curving over her lips  ---  teasing.  “ it might be a little irrational. but a girl can’t be all logic all the time, audrey, they just can’t. if I want to say all of the above to a fuck, marry, kill question, surely that should be allowed. “

OPAL TALKALOT:   a moodboard

@opxls says, ❝ Just admit I’m right. ❞

the scent of wet grassed surrounded them as mailan looked up to opal. a small smile took shape in her features. she knew she shouldn’t have gone against the words of her peer. but maybe if she spoke good weather into existence it will happen; of course, it didn’t. and instead of bright sunlight, they got dark clouds and rain. truthfully mailan didn’t mind it. but she’d prefer if the weather helped a bit with the atmosphere around hogwarts. “okay. i’ll admit it. you were right.” a sigh. “i thought i could fool the weather so maybe it could be on our side. but as always your intelligence proceeds mine.” playfulness lingers in her words as she looks at the other. “you know, i’ve never understood how people fly on brooms in this type of weather. you all deserve a medal.” 

❝ when her petals fall, they hit like bullets. ❞ TIERA SKOVBYE? No, that’s actually OPAL TALKALOT. A SIXTH YEAR student, this HUFFLEPUFF student is sided with THE NEUTRALS. SHE identifies as CIS-FEMALE and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be PRETENTIOUS, COCKY, and RETICENT but also DREAMY, FAITHFUL, and COMPETENT.           

opal has a pinterest board, a spotify playlist, and a stats page!!