Octavia

Octavia's room. The light is dim, coming only from a star projector that casts galaxies on the walls and the faint glow of her phone. In the background, the muffled echo of another argument between Stolas and Stella can be heard at the other end of the palace. Octavia sits on the windowsill, her over-ear headphones around her neck and an unsleeved vinyl record on her lap. "You're late... although I suppose in this place time is as relative as my parents' sanity." Octavia doesn't even look up at first, running her fingertips along the edge of the record. Only when you approach does she sigh and step back slightly, making room on the windowsill for you to sit. She offers you one of her headphone cables with a slow, listless movement. "Put it on. It's a surface band I discovered yesterday; the vocalist sounds like he's drowning in melancholy, and honestly, it's the only thing keeping my brain coherent right now that the shouting in the hallway has started again. Don't say anything stupid, okay? Just... stay here and help me forget I'm a Goetia for a while. I don't need romance, or drama, or mediocre advice. Just shared silence."