madeofstories: (Default)
This is Grace. Smile and speak at the beep.
madeofstories: (Default)
POST BOX FOR GRACE VIOLET
madeofstories: (Pint)
It happens less often these days, but every once in a while, Grace misses home almost more than she can handle. It's been years since she's been there, since she was unceremoniously sent to an island to live, and since then, she's learned that she can't eve go back, but it doesn't stop her missing everyone, all the same. She'd never been far from her family for very long at all before Tabula Rasa, and now with her twentieth birthday approaching, hasn't seen her parents for years. She can't even ring them.

It all comes flooding back at once on a Tuesday, as she's sitting outdoors at a cafe working on coursework, and suddenly she's reminded of a pub with Rich, of Sub Rosa and drinking an entire pint all at once.

So she orders one.

Only, the waitress drops it off, and it's sat precariously near the edge of the table. When Grace leans over to grab something from her bag, she grazes the table, knocking the glass over onto her papers and sending some of dry ones fluttering into the street.

"Oh no!"
madeofstories: (hopeless)
The flier clenched in one hand, Grace is still unsure of what to think. It could be something simple, something so small back home that it wasn't worth mentioning at all. But there's this feeling in the pit of her stomach as she heads home, that it's somehow more than that. That she's missed something incredibly important.

She never did listen to all of the messages on the phone she found so long ago, and Grace is beginning to wonder if perhaps she should have. In fact, she manages to convince herself that this is her answer until she's actually standing in she and Mini's hut, the phone held in both hands.

Something so small suddenly feels horribly heavy.
madeofstories: (lonely)
By the time Grace makes it home, her anger has subsided a bit, replaced instead with disappointment. Of course, she knows that Donald is hardly to blame for an affair that he neither planned nor asked for, but she can't help but be upset about it, all the same.

Walking through the door of the hut she shares with Mini and Alana, Grace tries to school her expression into something a little more pleasant. It helps when Lady Di greets her enthusiastically, and she scratches behind the dog's ears.

"You wouldn't put my personal life on display for the entire island to see, would you?" she asks, well aware how silly a question it is to pose to a dog.
madeofstories: (pic#1085769)
Grace very distinctly remembers the events of New Years Eve one year ago.

Dressed up in clothes from another era, they all rang in the new year in a way that she can only describe as magical. And Grace's last moments of the previous year were spent with someone she didn't anticipate would be as near and dear to her heart now as he is.

This year, they've been plunged into a different place altogether, one that Grace has found equally as magical as the month has worn on. And tonight, it feels as if there is magic in the air all over again, as Grace pulls her scarf more snugly around her neck. She's waiting in Times Square, where she's supposed to be meeting Scripps tonight, but so far, she hasn't spotted him.

Perhaps she should have been a bit more specific as to which corner she'd be nearest to.
madeofstories: (pic#1548759)
Truthfully, Grace feels incredibly guilty that it's taken her so long to do this. Ever since Mini arrived and told her that she was having a baby, Grace has had it in her head that she'll need to put on a party for her. It's got to be difficult, doing this away from her Mum and from all the rest of their friends, and she thinks that just about anything that can make all of this just a little bit better is worth doing.

While she'd originally planned to do this in their hut, by now it's probably too far to ask Mini to walk, so she's settled on the rec room instead. It's definitely done well in a pinch, and Grace has decorated it the best she can, with pink streamers and bows. She's spent the entire morning baking and decorating small cookies and cupcakes with Kurt's help.

By the time people have started arriving, she's become convinced that this will be nothing less than perfect.


[Dated to Sunday 9/16, in the rec room.]
madeofstories: (pic#2358994)
The morning after the party, Grace doesn't awake at the first bits of light that come through her window. Instead, she rolls over, pulling her blanket over her face, groaning a bit. Perhaps she did have a bit too much to drink the night before, caught up in the magic of the party, and it's all caught up to her this morning. Truthfully, she scarcely remembers coming in last night, and suspects that Scripps had a hand in making sure she made it home okay. She'll have to remember to thank him, not only for that, but for going at all; she can't imagine those parties are much fun when you're completely sober.

But today is a day that deserves a proper lie-in, and she wishes it was one spent in her room in Bristol, if only because she could tell her Mum that she's sick and manage to get soup and tea all day. Though, she's only just nodded off again, when she's nudged, and opens her eyes to Lady Di's wet nose poking at her under the covers.

"No, it's too early," Grace whines, but the sound of her voice is really just enough to ensure that the dog continues her effort, burrowing further underneath the blanket and licking at Grace's face until she has no excuse but to acknowledge her. "Okay, fine, we'll go for a walk." she says, scratching behind the dog's ears.

Cut for spoilers )

[Item post! One of those public/private EP things, open to all and backdated to the last day of March. For reference, the rest of the voicemails can be found here, but ARE spoilery for Skins season 6.]
madeofstories: (pea song)
There's something almost magical about tonight, and it goes far beyond the fact that the building that used to be the compound is so wonderfully decorated, that the kitchen seems to somehow have anything to eat or drink that anyone might ever want. There's almost an electricity to the night that she can't quite put her finger on, something that brings to mind the party in Baz Luhrmann's version of Romeo and Juliet. They've all been forced into something wonderful and formal, even if part of it is only a facade.

It isn't that she's been looking for Scripps in particular, but admittedly, when her eyes scan the crowded building, he's one of the faces she's hoping to see. So, it's no surprise that she brightens upon seeing his familiar face in the throng, and approaches, a glass of champagne in each hand— one for herself, and one as an offering.

"Enjoying the party?" she asks.

[For Jane]

Jun. 17th, 2011 02:32 am
madeofstories: (Default)
Grace is heading back home from the compound, her bag filled with a few books that the bookshelf has seen fit to give her today. For now, it seems, it has stopped giving her copies of Twelfth Night, and she's made sure not to let the opportunity for some variation in her reading material pass her by.

She's looking down at her feet, watching as her mary janes clack against the wood of the boardwalk, so she doesn't see the woman and her dogs until they're almost passing each other. There are loads of dogs and cats on the island, but these are so beautiful that she can't help but comment.

"Your dogs are lovely," Grace tells her, a bright smile on her face, "Did they come to the island with you?"
madeofstories: (Default)
It's a full day after everyone says the magic has worn off before Grace fully trusts it. Perhaps she was able to leave letters in people's mailboxes, more polite than they are truthful, but magic, she's learned, is never quite as simple as all that. She doesn't want to be wrong and end up spilling out secrets to people all over again. It was awful enough the first time that she's been incredibly cautious the entire weekend, only speaking when absolutely necessary, relying instead upon polite smiles and nods.

But when she awakens the next day and finds that she can lie again, she becomes less guarded, convinced now that the spell truly has run its course. It's simply one of those things that the island does to people, gone just as quickly as it had come. And while she's relieved, everything being normal again means she has something that she must do.

When she goes looking for Tony later in the day, it's quite noticeable that there's something a bit off about her; instead of her usual sun dress or skirt, she's found a pair of khakis with loafers to match and her makeup's muted and her hair pulled back. It's very subtle, yet specific for today. Still, differences in her appearance aside, she has nothing but a bright smile to offer Tony once she finally locates him.

"I was hoping I'd find you here," she says.
madeofstories: (pea song)
It's taken her an entire day and most of the morning as well, but Grace is almost certain that everything is perfect. The table she's borrowed is set up in the clearing between her own hut and the stage, each place setting with its own small plate and tea cup (though some are mugs, as she's had to make due with what she could borrow from the kitchen.) The chairs don't all match, of course, but at least there's space for every one of Jason's friends to sit comfortably.

Grace has never put on a proper afternoon tea before, and even if she had, it's probably a great deal more difficult when you're putting it on for someone other than yourself. Grace knows all the things that she likes: delicate tea sets, cucumber sandwiches and bits of lace on the table itself, but she's been forced to improvise, both because of what she has to work with, and because of Jason's particular tastes.

For instance, smoked salmon volauvents (her own preference) have been replaced with boar bacon ones that are a bit greasier than Grace intended them to be. And while there are still scones, the number of them is dwarfed by the amount of small finger-sized cakes (each one decorated with a bit of tropical flower that Grace spent approximately an hour collecting the day prior). And while Grace is partial to black currant tea, she's only been able to get her hands on a generic sort of black tea, green tea and mint tea made from fresh mint.

The entire affair is meant to cheer Jason up, after all, and to perhaps put him on parties that are a bit more tame than the others he's been to. Though, if this doesn't do the trick, there are always others. Perhaps fancy dress would be more his style.

[Gathering post! Invite only, feel free to have your pups boggle at the fancy tea party. Menu is scones, tea cakes, volauvents, avocado finger sandwiches, assorted fruits, crab cakes and boar sliders. xD]

Profile

madeofstories: (Default)
Grace Violet

March 2015

S M T W T F S
1234567
8 91011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031    

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 25th, 2017 10:29 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios