where the water turns blood red // opal

Lime juice coated the martini's rim and it was what got her through the last few days. 

For the first time in twenty three years, Sardonyx Crowe would not be felt the sting of unemployment. It had been indoctrinated into her character, as if part of her soul; the piece of Sardonyx that made her what she was. The urge to work, to flaunt, to create beauty of every moment -- a piece of her was proud of her child, sure. She would always be proud of Sampson, and the two of them both knew this time would come at a later date. 

A much, much later date. 

It showed in Opal's greys and Ridley's presentation and god forbid, Topaz Ross's shoes. In little ways, in the way she saw Sampson pat their thighs watching it on screen. All eyes were on district one female, the precipice of elegance -- we were the connection between Capitolites and man. The closest thing to making Sardonyx something more human, she watched Opal on that announcement screen as she walked out on that train, even as Ridley walked past the screen and caught admiration. 

What was important was that they weren't seen as human. Fenwick would tell her this time and time again -- the victors were just trophies, she would picture Sampson and how they would watch aquariums as a child. Angel bettas would chew at food and dare to nip at each other, their frills dancing in that space and it was only a show. Only a fish, an animal; that's all Opal Earnest could be to her. Something past the glass, floating in that space. 

After eight years and some of radio silence, Sardonyx Crowe had all but believed it. 

It wasn't until she had heard from Sampson that she believed Opal still lived, still cared. She understood it in a way, that Opal had her own life in a way she couldn't understand through the veil of privilege Fenwick slowly made more apparent. There was something between the capitol in the districts; something that had been there all along and she saw it in the way she talked about Ky Earnest. 

How tragic it would be if her family had died. 

How tragic, it would be, if Ky Earnest killed. 

If Opal Earnest had to grieve again. 

To break again. 

In a way more human than perhaps Sardonyx could be accredited with, she understood that pain. It found itself in the way she drank alone in the dark, a finger that never saw a ring; an aging and aging, bitter heart. The love dried over inside, cracked in its form but love all the less. Opal had a heart that burned without command, love pouring in red wine and Sardonyx drank that isolation away. Replaced it, even, the feeling that she would never connect again. 

That she would work her life away, but she learned that that, too, was not guaranteed. She learned that as Sampson walked privately with Jade Morin, their first tribute, and Sardonyx sat in support in the corner of the room. Hair hidden behind floral head dresses and a nude robe and she could never give up the theatrics. 

Modest, but sexy; hidden youth behind the illusion of something natural. 

The wooden director's chair creaked as she moved, martini still resting on slender fingers, she made her way to her old project in the waiting room. Statuesque in her approach, as always, something too sophisticated for her own good; don't show her how you bleed.

How you miss her.

"Opal-" goddamned "Earnest."

She was a modest lady, she would never swear at Opal -- even after all this time. 

For a second she just looked at Opal, standing taller than her still in this age and in a way she saw that scared career who made it home that day. That warm eyed girl, Opal Shore, when she was only just starting it all. Before Ky, before Potato, Sardonyx couldn't help but size up all she knew about Opal in this moment along with everything she hadn't. What she must have missed in those years of absence -- she hadn't just had a child, she became a mother in those times.

The most prideful thing Sardonyx had ever been. 

She decided, in this moment, that she forgave Opal for leaving. 

"Follow me." She said, in a tone that could kill if it weren't just for the dramatics. 

As if Opal was her daughter, just a teen and she was still able to direct her through life. Sardonyx's corner lip lifted just a little, that bitter, dry heart bleeding something wet as she sippped her martini and hid her gaze back behind a pair of white shades. 

She led her somewhere familiar, Sardonyx's personal station in the stylist quarter, left unlock because she knew she would need to be dramatic at ease. A good scene always has a master director behind it, you learn that in show business. Sardonyx held the door open with her chin up, avoiding eye contact as if she couldn't look at her. 

Behind the shades, she snuck that glare. Stole it something selfish, she was so proud of the woman Opal had become in slow little ways. She looked at the stress greys in her hair -- Sampson pointed them out, and they at least had their mother's eye. A woman's first grey is never a good thing, but you don't have to be good to be beautiful. Sardonyx ushers Opal to her seat and only takes off her shades when they can both see each other in the mirror. 

It's a heart less moment, she can see a rise of nerves in the way Opal looks at her through the glass. 

Sardonyx creeps a loving smile, "doll, where the hell have you been?" She practically bounced as she talked, life creeping back into her cheeks and eyes and teeth, and despite acting for thirty years, Sardonyx couldn't keep the facade up. 

She loved Opal, in every way. Like a mother, holding an injured bird under her wings, but she knew deeply that Opal was her own woman. 

A girl from district one, a career, every title under the moon but she was somebody human, and for the first time in Sardonyx's life she truly meant that. 

Opal Earnest grieved and loved and smiled and sobbed, and she lost, and she won, and Sardonyx isn't mad at her for leaving. 

She's only anxious to hear it all, to hear the ways Ky made her a mother and how Katelyn made her a lover again. How Katelyn and Ky gave her a family Sardonyx had seen in her and her own child; not something broken, or different. 

Just perfect. 

Immaculate, in its form, because they were all deserving. 

"I'm fixing these roots, and you're telling me where you've been-- and where is Ky?" Turning to the counter, supplies to match her status in the tubs, "you mean to tell me Sampson got to see him, and I don't?! Ridiculous! Absolutely, can not believe it, I can not even pretend to understand." 

She shook the dyes in her hand, "he better be acting right- and if he ever treats you wrong, I have my permit to one for another six months baby, and I'll teach him how grandma's work, alright?"

"Katelyn too! And you know I would never be caught dead in Eleven."