#((i defidently look forward to continuing it; this has been an AWESOME endeavor to overhaul the og 'phantasm of the mansion'))

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/706960893355917312/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

Randall nodded in agreement as he listened to Little Leota’s assessment, as he nursed his midday cup of coffee (he’d lost count of what number cup this was, admittedly; having spent the night before burning the midnight oil working, he needed all the caffeine he could get today): From one of his hideaways, he’d been sort of participating in today’s luncheon, politely listening in on the group’s conversations.

This was not an uncommon thing: Whenever his loneliness got too intense for him to handle, he would sometimes sneak down to the café to dine in the “company” of many people at the opera, chiefly the cast and crew, listening in on their conversations as he ate. It was often a lovely antidote to his lonesomeness, and was a nice way of “catching up”, in a way, with those who occupied the opera house. Sometimes, if he heard something particularly exciting, like an engagement or the birth of a child, he would leave out a note of congrats where they would find it-just another part of the legend of the Opera Ghost, he supposed.

And so, here he was, nibbling on his biscuit and nodding along with the young ballerina’s assessment of the organist; smart lass, a lot like her mother, he had to say. She was right; it didn’t add up. Up until most recently, Thaddeus Morgan hadn’t given Emily the time of day, but now? He seemed...well, he wasn’t sure how describe how Morgan seemed to feel about her, his true feelings unclear to him. Infatuated seemed like the right word, and yet not quite; it didn’t seem like Morgan was romantically drawn to her...but what else could it be? 

Randall continued to mull it over a little as he ate and drank, brow furrowed all the while. A slave to fashion, Morgan was, he decided; now that Emily’s star was on the rise, he was trailing after her now, perhaps in the hopes that some of that growing fame would rub off on him...yes, that sounded about right to him. Was it annoying? Yes, absolutely. But was it anything more than that? No, it didn’t seem so. He was just a fickle boy, he decided-a nuisance, but nothing more...