Ohm

£ 𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 £ - A Murder Mystery RP

My fault, probably. Sorry about that.

£ 𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 £ - A Murder Mystery RP

E D W A R D

"How surprising," Edward rebuffed, his grin fading as he turned to match Bailey's gait on the way to the pool house. "Figured she would have told all of you before me. I don't exactly fit the mold of a 'first call' these days. I've got shit I got to do. You and Katherine are the golden children, remember?"

As he walked, Edward watched her face from his periphery. Something was off; she seemed a little more perturbed than she ought to be.

"You look nervous," he said, a mere observation showing his keen eye. "Don't worry, if Dad comes back from the dead, I'll make sure he eats Katherine first; give you a chance to run back to your lab so you can research a cure."

He wondered, internally, where it all went wrong. The pool house was now in view, emerging from behind dense shrubbery that lined the acre-wide backyard of Blackstone Manor. He couldn't dredge up a memory in which he and his sisters relaxed and played and were just children. All he could remember were lessons and punishments and deep-seeded frustrations and expectations. So many expectations. The Sistine Chapel wouldn't have been enough to satisfy.

The pool house, in particular, sat parallel to a swimming pool that could've qualified for use in the Olympics bordered on one side by large glass panes that comprised the greenhouse. What was once Mother's attempt at a pastime activity in the wake of her stresses became yet another burden levied onto the help of the household. Edward imagined one of the gardeners, underpaid and overworked, tending to God-knows-what inside the improperly-ventilated vessel of greenery. He toyed with the thought of how long it had been since anyone stepped foot inside. Judging by the overgrowth of vines that snaked up the glass, it had to have been at least several weeks. He guessed it was no longer a priority, and why would it be now?

The empty backyard forced Edward back into his thoughts of an alternate reality.

"So, how's the..." Edward gestured vaguely, as if trying to conjure up words that made sense when put together. Part of him still contested with the hangover he battled on the plane coming here.

"...internship?"

£ 𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 £ - A Murder Mystery RP

E D W A R D

"Hey. You got the messages."

Edward and Mariana were en route to the pool house, along a cobblestone path set atop neatly trimmed grass. Lawn care that was top of the line—God forbid his family spare any expenses. He supposed they didn't need to. They had billions in various offshore accounts, each one stemming off the blood flow of taxes and fees with the stanching only international waters could provide. They had so many that each Blackstone child was essentially given one of their own, with all the accounts connected back to the main trust; a constant flow of money.

He was no stranger to insider knowledge. He knew how Bailey, who was now catching up to himself and their sister, was leeching the funds the family allowed her, all while pursuing some career in biomechanics that Edward didn't have the knowledge to complement in conversation. It's not that he was stupid. He simply found better priorities to care about. Regardless, Bailey wasn't the only one pseudo-pilfering from the Blackstone treasury accounts, he figured. He imagined Katherine had her share of the wealth as well, her company funded by Father almost directly, and he wouldn't be surprised if Mariana did the same, though he could almost understand her situation.

But Edward? He never touched his. If he didn't make the money on his own, he didn't want it.

Edward turned and watched Bailey catch up, her diminutive stature ill-dressed for the mood. "We're all part of the same group chat," he said, half-smiling at her attempts to seem cordial. "Kind of expected. Aren't you a little under-dressed? Father's dead, not inviting us to a concert."

Video Game Discussion: Part IV (The Gaming Industry in Decay Arc)

I saw that Gamespot dropped a hands-on preview of Highguard today. The game is sitting at Mostly Negative on Steam, and I don't personally have any interest in it, but GS were describing the game as if it's some novel new experience that has no genre. While I was listening to them describing it, a term immediately came to mind—it's an FPS MOBA. That's literally it. It's not anything new, and it doesn't have to be.

£ 𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 £ - A Murder Mystery RP

E D W A R D

"Got an extra one of those?"

Edward didn't even have to give her visual attention, didn't have to remind himself of who she was. Of all the Blackstone siblings, Mariana was probably the one he'd had the closest of relationships with, despite the distance. He felt a mixture of admiration and envy, quietly praised her ability to separate from the family almost entirely. He wished he had that chance earlier in life, but these days, he was still too embedded, having to make decisions from the inside.

He remembered a few days ago, the mid-afternoon of January 24th. As he sat among a cluster of businessmen who had their fingers all too deep in the wrong pies, he received a text message from his mother, Regina.

Honey, I have some bad news. Your father is dead. I need you to come to the manor. Please come see me.

The news didn't carry the emotional weight it probably should have. He stared at the message on his phone, the blare of laughing suits in the background muffled and warped. He'd spent so long in the shadows of his family, cast aside and branded the black sheep. He wasn't the intrepid go-getter like Katherine, not when it mattered. Now, she was sitting pretty as the CEO of Blackstone Group, one of the largest and most effective security groups in the world, and here he was, schmoozing up to people that were practically no-names from his position. He could leverage his name at any moment, but the thrill of making the deals he often did would've been gone. There would be no challenge.

Even still, he couldn't put his focus on anything that day. Between navigating the social pitfalls of rich men and peering into the hole the rich man that was his father left behind, there was a certain stress that blurred his vision like frosted glass. He juggled the priorities in his mind, wondering what to do, but soon his experiences in the world took over, governed his thumbs as they tapped against the screen.

Won't make it for a few days. Business.

The phone fell into his pocket and he leaned back against the chair, watching the suits around clamor for the bodies of waitresses paid too little. His hand found the cigarette case in his coat pocket, pulled it out and, with the flick of his wrist, popped it open.

—————
———————————————
—————

Edward's arm swiveled away from his body casually, almost mechanically as he offered a cigarette to Mariana.

"I take it you heard the news," he said, his voice flat, even, unwavering. Meanwhile, his thumbs found the letters on the touchscreen, tapping away.

I'm here. Mariana just arrived. Yellow tape all over the front door.

As he felt her hand press into the case, Edward could smell that unmistakable scent of vodka. His head craned upward, scanning the face of the manor and the tape cutting them off from entering. "Do not cross," it said, almost an invitation to challenge the law. Edward stifled a grin. The Blackstones skirted legality on a near-daily basis, playing just within the confines of the rules so as not to incur the wrath of a judge who didn't care for how they handled things. Yellow tape wasn't going to stop any of them from entering their own former home—and yet, out of some anomalous respect for his mother, Edward decided to let it be.

"You probably shouldn't be drinking right now," Edward continued, his head turning to give a side glance at Mariana. "You know Mother's not going to be happy about it."

Buuuuuzzzzz.

Edward peered down at his phone, checking the reply from their mother.

House is cordoned off. I'm in the Pool House.

£ 𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 £ - A Murder Mystery RP

E D W A R D

^{Blackstone Tower Penthouse, 27th Floor
January 24, 2026; 2:35 AM}

---

Edward stood on the balcony of the penthouse, the frigid bite of the night air raising goosebumps in his skin. Leaning on the rail, he watched the glittering skyline of lights among the monolithic skyscrapers that surrounded Blackstone Tower. A cigarette rested lazily between his lips, smoke mixing with puffs of heated breath. His thumb slid over the screen on his phone, as if attempting to fish a notification to its unlit surface. In the twilight of the evening-turned-morning, Edward found himself unable to sleep, his bed instead taken up by a shirtless woman whose name he didn't care to memorize. Hours prior, he had his fill of skin and physical sensation. The pleasure had still yet to arrive.

He had been waiting for the confirmation for so long. Edward suddenly found himself pacing back and forth across the smooth stone floor of the balcony, slowly increasing the length of the cherry on his cigarette. In his mind, he mulled over the conversations from days ago, the planning, the pieces of everything that he'd hoped fell into place without failure. How long was it going to take? Edward was no stranger to being patient—it was something nearly beaten into him as a child—but for something of this magnitude, the anxiety was difficult to handle. If it didn't all go according to plan, he'd lose everything he worked for, and that's not something he would allow, not after all the money he had to spend.

And then, ding.

Edward looked down at his phone, the screen illuminating to show a notification. New message. Unlock to view. He swiped across the screen, input the unlock code, and slowly pulled down the notification screen. What met his gaze were five words from an unknown sender and, as he read them once, twice, five and six and seven times over, a smile slid across his face.

"It's done.
Send the money."

^{Blackstone Manor
January 29, 2026; 11:09 AM}

---

A sleek, black sedan pulled past the gate that closed Blackstone Manor off from the rest of civilization. In the backseat, watching through the window as century-old conifers crawled past, Edward sat, dressed sharply in a suit in almost the exact same of shade of black. A pair of shades concealed his vacant stare, and he was lost in thought. The past five days had been quite the whirlwind. His father's death, this early in that old codger's wretched life, was a variable Edward couldn't predict, and he'd spent most of his life attempting to hone and perfect that skill. It's what made him effective at what he did. Being a supplier required the right amount of prediction, allowed him to exercise his expertise over risk. If there was anything he swore by, it was that there were no second chances, no mistakes. All or nothing.

"Gideon," Edward called the driver up front. Staring into the rear view mirror, he watched as a pair of old, tired eyes flicked up briefly to acknowledge the eldest child's presence in the vehicle.

"Sir?" asked Gideon, the gray hair on the back of his head shifting slightly to the right as he leaned his head. His voice was weak, carrying with it the apathy of age.

"Stop the car. I'll be approaching the manor on foot from here on."

"Are you sure, sir? We will be reaching the courtyard in a few minutes."

"I need time to myself to think, Gideon. Stop the car."

———————

The last time Edward found himself walking along this trail was after a tense, heated argument with his father. The details were muddy and blurred, but the feeling of resentment hung with him all the same. The bottoms of his checkered sneakers, a stark contrast to the suit, kicked up dust along the dirt path that wound and curved, like a serpent ready to strike, all the way to the towering, gaudy Blackstone Manor. At least the breeze was nice.

Not long after, he found himself in the courtyard, flanked by pine trees that wreathed the asphalt. In the center was a fountain depicting two cherubs, one seemingly saving the other from the absolution of hell. Edward scoffed at the imagery. This misguided metaphor for being a savior—he never believed in it. He lived long enough in this place to know at least that much.

Edward sat on the edge of the fountain, staring at the front door to the manor as he pulled a cigarette from inside his coat pocket. With a strike of a match, he took a drag and sat silently, waiting for the empty courtyard to fill.

£ 𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 £ - A Murder Mystery RP

Edward Blackstone, Eldest Child

✧ Edward Alastor Blackstone ✧

✧ “No second chances, no mistakes.” ✧

✧ ✧
✧ Eldest Child of Anthony Blackstone ✧

✧ Personality -

Personality Details

­
I'm the kind of person who doesn't take risks unless I know I can succeed. I don't believe in probability—it's either 100% or 0%; there are no in-betweens. My mother, as overbearing as she was, taught me to seize the opportunity when it presents itself. I think that's a fool's errand. Why risk failure when you can simply buy success? Why set yourself up for the possibility of losing when you can rig the race? All these other people chasing their dreams are idiots, each one of them constantly falling into pits along the way. It's a waste of time. You only get one life, and I intend to keep it as failure-free as possible, especially when there's money on the line.
­

✧

✧ Relationship with their father Anthony Blackstone -

Relationship with Father

­
I spent my whole life trying to get my father to see that I could bring the family success; that I could take the Blackstone name to even greater heights, put us in places our ancestors have never gone. That old fuck never turned his face to me. He always favored the others. That's the problem with being the eldest child. The youngest get groomed for greatness and the everyone else gets coddled and spoiled. The eldest child gets left to fend for themselves, forgotten and lone; considered a failure.

To be honest, I'm glad he's dead. The only difference between him and any other corpse is the Blackstone name, something he didn't deserve to wield. Now someone else can take the mantle, bring our legacy to the peak of influence, make the world remember the weight of our name—or be crushed beneath it.

✧

✧ Profession -

Profession Details

No officially documented career status. Rumors among the rich say that Edward is a supplier—of what is unknown.

✧

✧ Relationship Status: Single ✧

____________________________________

£ 𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 £ - A Murder Mystery RP

Edward Blackstone, Eldest Child

✧ Edward Alastor Blackstone ✧

✧ “No second chances, no mistakes.” ✧

✧ ✧
✧ Eldest Child of Anthony Blackstone ✧

✧ Personality -

Personality Details

­
I'm the kind of person who doesn't take risks unless I know I can succeed. I don't believe in probability—it's either 100% or 0%; there are no in-betweens. My mother, as overbearing as she was, taught me to seize the opportunity when it presents itself. I think that's a fool's errand. Why risk failure when you can simply buy success? Why set yourself up for the possibility of losing when you can rig the race? All these other people chasing their dreams are idiots, each one of them constantly falling into pits along the way. It's a waste of time. You only get one life, and I intend to keep it as failure-free as possible, especially when there's money on the line.
­

✧

✧ Relationship with their father Anthony Blackstone -

Relationship with Father

­
I spent my whole life trying to get my father to see that I could bring the family success; that I could take the Blackstone name to even greater heights, put us in places our ancestors have never gone. That old fuck never turned his face to me. He always favored the others. That's the problem with being the eldest child. The youngest get groomed for greatness and the everyone else gets coddled and spoiled. The eldest child gets left to fend for themselves, forgotten and lone; considered a failure.

To be honest, I'm glad he's dead. The only difference between him and any other corpse is the Blackstone name, something he didn't deserve to wield. Now someone else can take the mantle, bring our legacy to the peak of influence, make the world remember the weight of our name—or be crushed beneath it.

✧

✧ Profession -

Profession Details

No officially documented career status. Rumors among the rich say that Edward is a supplier—of what is unknown.

✧

✧ Relationship Status: Single ✧

____________________________________

What Are You Listening To?

"I don't want to throw this glass javelin,

I don't want to watch it fly.

I don't want to break my glass mannequin, once again."

£ 𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 £ - A Murder Mystery RP ( 5/4 Roles Filled )

Yeah, I want in on this.