/ˈɒpjʊl(ə)ns,ˈɒpjʊləns/
⇒noun
great wealth or luxuriousness.
"you taste of melancholia and rotting pain"
"and you, of an opulence that courses within the broken veins of a decaying dynasty"
cover by @plutoqissed
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─ · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
The night grew tinted in its cloud-foam cerulean hues, saturating the canvas of the sky into a deeper azure. Platinum fireballs airbrushed across the sky as the moonbeam rays of a crescent moon shone itself upon the Thrombey mansion.
The weather birthed a wailing hailstorm, the winds screamed in a shrill whisper as if cursed with a voice of their own. The clock ticked 11, half the family in their own rooms at this part of dusk.
Constant demands for Anya to get snacks regularly or do basic chores around the house preoccupied her, additionally aiding Charlene with preparations for the feats. A quarter of the rich bloodline down in the living room.
"F- Her flights' delayed!" Joni screeched, biting back her initial reaction. "Hugh!" A shrill scream then escaped her lips, flying to the room above, the others downstairs huffed at her reaction. Meg closed her ears, over dramatising Jonis' actions.
"Fuck do you want? Ah?" He yelled, his hair finally slicked back coming out of his room for the first time today.
"How bout you ask your wife how she is, eh?" The trails of her boston accent crept up into her diction whenever she spoke in rage.
"Delayed flight?" He asked - although in a rather monotone fashion making it hard to decipher if it really was a question or just a statement made by the man. He descended the staircase in his now washed sweater, the crimson drops still stained upon its fabrics but fading nonetheless.
"Ugh, leave him be." Meg gagged. The family had no hopes of Mrs Drysdale joining them for supper tonight, not since it was eight.
She had texted Joni regularly about the constant flight delays due to the harsh weather, which then spiralled into a cyclic reaction of Anya informing Charlene about delaying the meal. The environment around the mansion had slowly dimmed again.
Ransom had never expected to extend his stay either, his only reason to come back was to freshen up and attend to the lucrative business that he indulged in.
He hated the house, all that it stood for and all who inhabited it. Although, he would rather sleep in his king sized bed with Cashmere silk sheets rather than a dingy inn.
"What were you doing in your room alone, do you even care about her? Did you check up on her?" Joni instigated the man, some would say riling up a reaction from Hugh had become a guilty hobby of hers.
"Ha, wanking off, fuck-face" the man replied, buried in his off white sweater, treading the lines between a rich asshole and an edgy eleven year old boy.
"Jesus..." Meg sighed finally deciding to watch a classic horror while her attention dispersed elsewhere. "Hey so what about Anya and Charlene?... the other maids left before the hailstorm...thing" Meg voiced her thoughts aloud.
