Take these broken wings and learn to fly...

Azalea Grayson || 20 Years Old || Slave || Sophomore Azalea Grayson: Originally English, transplanted to New York City, and now stuck in this well of despair courtesy of my father and the fuckery of fate. Perhaps you know my father, William Grayson? Or perhaps not...do consider yourself lucky. As the black sheep of the Grayson clan I had hoped to slip under the radar, but apparently the things you strive to avoid have a nasty way of catching up with you. A rebel, a fighter, a self-proclaimed ice queen; Do be careful where you tread. I do bite.

[azaleagrayson-blog]

scott-spencer-rp:

Scott very nearly accepted her first response. He heard the hesitation and, as much as it would bother him, he would ultimately have acquiesced if she really didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as him. Would it set a bad precedent? Most likely, but he couldn’t bring it in himself to care, at least not today. “I don’t sleep very early. So honestly, just let me know when you’re tired and we can go to bed.” Though he said that he couldn’t help the yawn that escaped his lips; his body was tired, and he was emotionally drained, he couldn’t help that at all. “And if I did want something else? Would you deny me?” he asked her, though his heart wasn’t really in it at that point in time. He would ordinarily test her here, but he just couldn’t bring himself to deliver and he hated how weak he felt in front of Azalea. “Yes, Azalea, when I call you to bed I will only wish to sleep. I could never have sex on this night.”

Skepticism painted her features as she watched him yawn, one brow perking and the corners of her lips twitching up in a rare show of amusement. “Right, not very early my ass. You look like you’re about to topple over where you sit, mate.” Azalea knew that sort of exhaustion; the bone-tired, world weary, concrete in your head exhaustion of dealing with emotional strife was enough to make anyone keel over. “I would deny you, yes.” The matter of fact whisper tumbled from her lips in reply, “But that doesn’t matter around here, does it...what a person wants and doesn’t want?” Her shoulders sagged and for a moment she seemed very interested in the hem of her skirt, picking at a loose thread as she added even more quietly, “It’s to be expected. I was raised to believe nothing else.” A heavy sigh left her and she stood, offering him a hand. “Come on, let’s get some rest.”

[katherineeliserpg]

“Yeah, well what if they hold the key to your livelihood, would you tell them then?” She snapped at the girl, her eyes flashing as she glared over at her. “I typically don’t get involved in other peoples private conversations so I guess we both have differing opinions.”

[azaleagrayson-blog]

“Yes, well, maybe you should consider keeping your private conversations out of public places if you don’t want comments from the peanut gallery.” She countered cooly, the picture of collected and calm, if I bit annoyed. “And if they hold the key, then tell them to swallow it. No one needs the favor of others to make something of themselves. Obviously you just lack the conviction to carry on on your own. Unfortunate for you.”

[itsafayeworld]

“I miss my parents..” She frowned gently. “Ah I see I see. Yes Ma’am. My boyfriend is a master here, he found me and brought me back.. Let’s just say he wasn’t very impressed that I got out in the first place..” She sighed shrugging.

[azaleagrayson-blog]

“You’re dating one of those heathens?” Azalea scoffed, fixing the other girl with an arched brown look of deepest judgement. “Has you brain died in that blissful blonde head of yours? They’re the enemy, and you’ve voluntarily let one into your life like that? I’m not sure if that’s sad or psychotic.”

[masterthomasjmccready]

“Please meds are a joke. And I’m not paranoid, just careful. I’m not the most well liked person here. Cant tell you are the times i’ve been randomly attacked. Although it never worked out for the attackers. but thats beside the point.”

“As do I, but everytime I try. Somebody shows up.”

[azaleagrayson-blog]

“No, I wouldn’t imagine you would be well-liked, what with your irrational temper tantrums and all. You might want to consider anger management, just saying. But believe me, I’m not here to attack you; I’m just trying to find a quiet place to think for a while...lots on my mind, lots of changes, too much fucked up for one person to ponder.”

“And what do you have to be pensive about? Which girl you’re going to smack around next? Do carry on, don’t mind me.”

[scott-spencer-rp-blog]

Azalea had hinted quite a few times about what her father had done to her, or what he allowed to happen, but Scott never pried, considering the fact that Azalea was a closed off person from the get-go. The pushing he did was merely to get under her skin, but he never planned to delve deeper unless she allowed him to. He didn’t believe for one second that his pain was worse than hers; where his worst pain was losing his mother hers was dealing with a father that treated her worse than trash, if she was to be believed - and there was no reason for him to doubt her words. What would it profit her to lie, after all? he never thought a kiss would have comforted him the way hers did, but so it happened. “Thank you…” He stopped playing and cupped her cheek, resting his forehead to hers. “Would you - would you mind terribly if today were the day I chose for you to spend in my bed tonight?”

[azaleagrayson-blog]

She’d already bared too much, of that she was most certainly well aware; Scott Spencer had been given a few too many telling glances into her history and psyche, and the thought that someone could vaguely have the possibility of unraveling her frightened her deeply. But wasn’t he broken, too? Sliding her gaze sideways, she took a long hard look at him, cataloguing his current state of mind to memory: The lost boy, the forlorn son. It was a side she didn’t think he had possessed, not at first, and it was somewhat humbling, if unnerving, to know he was likely just as broken as she was. “There’s nothing to thank me for, it was just a kiss.” She tried to brush off the gratitude, but as he brought her close, so sweet and gentle, she almost felt like she could give a little. And then he asked his question and she balked. “Scott, I don’t--” Azalea wasn’t comfortable with this whole arrangement, the slavery, the requirement to sleep next to him. Most of all she was afraid he’d witness her nightmares in those solemn moments of sleep and start asking question. But as she looked up into his eyes she found herself nodding hesitantly against her better judgement. “Yes, that’s fine, Scott.” She breathed, voice wavering as she looked down to steady herself. She couldn’t say no, not when he looked so low. “Just let me know when, yeah? And, um...I mean, you’re just wanting to sleep, right? Nothing else?”

[scott-spencer-rp-blog]

“Azalea,” Scott shook his head, even as he made no move to remove his hand from her grasp. “You didn’t and could not have known so it’s fine.” It had to be pathetic in her eyes, seeing him in such a vulnerable state after all he had done, the way he had been to her prior to now absolutely reverse of this situation. He bristled at the accusation, the words cutting deeply as they reached closer to his mindset than he would like to admit. “Of course not,” he replied quickly, his tone clipped. “What could I do? I was at school, I couldn’t come home. It’s not like I could just run home.” He played a mournful note, followed by discordant chords. “Can you bring my mother back? Because that would be the absolute best…” he snarled before his face softened, “sorry, that was uncalled for. I - I just always take this day to think. I’ve never done anything else. So I don’t know if you can.”

[azaleagrayson-blog]

“No, I can’t bring your mother back.” She returned icily, “I can’t bring her back just as I can’t bring my own back, or just as I can’t make my father feel remorseful for his crimes...” Azalea shook her head at the mention of her father, fighting back a break in her voice as she continued, barely whispering, “Just as I can’t shake the memories.” She was showing too much emotion, more than she was comfortable with, and she pulled back again, withdrawing into herself. “No, I’m sorry. That’s what I get for asking someone if they’re okay when they obviously aren’t, huh?” After a moment, she tipped her head around his and stole a kiss  before turning back silently to the piano, watching him play but at a loss for what to say. She’d tried, in her own way, to be comforting and it had fucked up. She was a fuck up, and she should have known better. 

[scott-spencer-rp-blog]

Scott sighed; realistically, he should have known that she would hit him back with the same sort of logic that he used to dig into her psyche. Even if he didn’t really get all that far, he got further - he thought - than most people who may have tried before. And that, in itself, was an accomplishment. An unintended consequence, of course, was that he now had someone who expected or at least tried to expect the same in return. And he had to accept the fact that it was only fair in that regard. “My mother died on this day,” he said softly, almost a whisper but louder than ever compared to the otherwise silent room. “At that moment I was in class, practicing piano much like this. Singing this very song, or at least, playing this tune. An entire day I spent, unaware of the tragedy that awaited me when I would arrive home after school. And so every year, on this day, I remember her, and I remember this song…even the weather’s the same.” He clicked his tongue and then looked back down at the piano, playing once more but holding his voice,

[azaleagrayson-blog]

She’d pushed a boundary, Azalea knew that full and well, and normally she would have been entirely unapologetic about the probing. Just desserts after all, right? There would have normally been a sense of justification for her needling him on, a fair trade of information for information. But not this time; This time, Azalea stopped cold, lips pursing in a faint grimace at her callousness “I’m sorry,” She offered, uncharacteristically contrite. There were certain things you never messed with, even in Azalea’s skewed sense of justice: death and trauma. And she had just pressed for both, a death and the mental trauma of a son mourning is mother. “I’m so sorry, Scott, I didn’t shouldn’t have pried.” Apologies could only atone for so much, though. Profusely professing your sorrow for your actions didn’t serve to reverse the action. Instead of continuing, she listened, lips growing further and further downcast and her heart sinking more and more for having dredged up the memories. “You blame yourself to an extent, don’t you? The guilt is there in your voice, the frustration of not being there for her. Stop it...” For a second her hand hovered, unsure, before she rose it let it rest over his, stopping his playing. “Survivors guilt will eat you alive, Scott, it’s no way to live. Is there, um..Is there anything I can do?”

[scott-spencer-rp-blog]

“Do I now?” The conversation about Madonna was forgotten as his desire to close off the parts of himself that he unwittingly revealed to her reared its head in full force. He turned his head to her and fixed her with a gaze that, against most other people, would cause them to quail and run. At the most, he figured it would just serve to make Azalea change the subject. She wouldn’t leave - she was too stubborn for that - but maybe, if he was lucky, she’d forget about it and move on. “Just in my feelings today, surprised? It happens to me too on occasion.” He brushed some stray hair out of his eyes and looked down to Azalea’s fingers, where they pressed a few keys in random tones, causing a discordant sound to echo from the base of the percussion instrument. “Nothing’s wrong, I should say. But nothing’s right either,” he replied succinctly.

[azaleagrayson-blog]

“Yes, you do.” Azalea countered cooly, scanning his face curiously..perhaps a small amount of concern itching behind her features, but Azalea lived in a perpetual state of denial where such care didn’t exist. Not yet. “Remember the day you met me? The Spanish Inquisition you put me through? Welcome to payback, Scott.” His gaze did nothing to quail and curiosity, but she did at least have the decency to tread on with a more careful tone, “How is it fair, Scott, to expect me to answer your questions when you can’t answer a simple one in return? Are you a tit for tat type of man?” Azalea squared her gaze on his for moment, a breath, a sense of psyching herself up before she offered quietly, carefully. “Tell me what’s eating you, and I’ll answer one question of your choice without argument.” A trade, and one she didn’t offer lightly. But curiosity nagged in the pit of her stomach at what could have made this otherwise, until very recently, collected man break. His talent for concealment of emotions matched her own and she wondered what made him tick. 

[scott-spencer-rp-blog]

“It most certainly is,” Scott replied, his voice still soft as he had barely spoken for most of the day. He cleared his throat then added, “When I learned that this was a track by Madonna, it shocked me at first, but then I realized, that’s exactly what she was going for. That’s her schtick, shock value. So even when writing something as heartfelt as ‘Across the Sky’, it shocks you because you don’t expect that from Madonna.” He shrugged, knowing that lying to her was meaningless in this state. He was hardly in a mood to do the usual back and forth with her. “Not really, to be completely honest.”

[azaleagrayson-blog]

This was a side of Scott Spencer that Azalea hadn’t seen before, at least not more than a quick glimpse during their most recent conversation, and the...was it fragility...in his demeanor caught her off guard. What served to set her even further off kilter was the reflex to go sit with him, to comfort him, a luxury usually reserved only for the select group of people she’d considered family in New York. “That’s her schtick, always finding the newest things to tip her listeners off their even footing. She’s a music revolutionary in her own way.” For a moment Azalea hovered, teetering on the precipice of indecision of what to do. Her common sense and years of self-guarding told her to turn tail and leave him alone, but a nagging sense of curious need drove her to walk to the piano bench and claim a seat beside him, “Scoot over, Scott, you have some explaining to do.” Absently, her fingers plucked a few odd notes on the piano. Mother had tried to teach her at one point, but the hopeless endeavor had thankfully been scrapped when ballet came into the picture. “Scott, what’s wrong? Something’s eating at you...I know that feeling, as someone who experiences it on a fairly regular basis.”

[scott-spencer-rp-blog]

It was a day like this, not too sunny, but not too dark, when he learned his mother’s fate. When he came home from school to learn that the last time he would be held by the loving arms of Melanie Spencer was eight hours before. This was one of her favorite songs, and she often sang it whenever she was flitting about, being the life of the Spencer household. He made it his duty not only to learn the words, but to be able to play it on whatever instrument he had even a limited talent in using. A voice shook him from his reminiscence and he turned to face Azalea. “Hmm, no, I didn’t write that. That’s Madonna, surprisingly enough. She’s got some gems amongst her collection of crazy records. When’d you get here?”

[azaleagrayson-blog]

“Huh, I didn’t know Madonna was still writing. A far cry from Material Girl or Like a prayer, isn’t it?” Azalea took a step further into the room, an unsteady sort of effort at pleasantries lingering over her being as she tried to play nice for now at least. “A few hours ago,” She answered, eyes narrowing slightly as she looked him over. He looked haunted, too far in thought...he looked like her on a bad day. “I tried to stay quiet, took some time to think. Hey, you okay?”

[scott-spencer-rp-blog]

I have never been a righteous soul  and I don’t pretend I am But I walk the line when I’m with you ‘cuz you make me believe I can…

[azaleagrayson-blog]

Azalea hovered in the door way, slight frame braced against the doorframe as her arms crossed in front of her and she listened. The better part of her afternoon had been spent moving her few meager belongings into Scott’s quarters, and even more of the evening had been carried away by self-searching thoughts of precisely what the hell she was getting herself into. But in a moment like this she could almost admit she liked him as a person, “Bravo, Scott. Did you write that?”

[scott-spencer-rp-blog]

“As if you need my permission to express your opinion on anything, Azalea,” he scoffed, as if challenging her to deny that fact. He wasn’t a fool. By no stretch of the imagination was this fitting to be anything close to the usual Master/slave relationship around here. They’d both seen too much of the other as it was, pushed boundaries that couldn’t be pulled back anymore. In this, Scott had laid himself bare for Azalea - not completely, mind, but enough to give pause - and he knew that, from now on, he would have to earn every further gain with much more hard work. This was only the beginning, he was sure of it. And it seemed she wasted no time in making demands of him. While a part of him ruffled, wanting to rebel against her demands as his mind reminded him of the status he kept as a master, but the rest of him was more focused on keeping her respect, having a feeling that it would earn him her submission much more readily. “Touchy subject, yes. Looks like we both have a couple of those.” He kissed her back, somehow the action already felt commonplace. “That is correct,” he admitted, frowning slightly. “Of course you do. This is obviously not the usual Master/slave relationship, and I’m not about to demean whatever this is by leaving it with such…placid monikers.” He raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”

[azaleagrayson-blog]

“See, the Neanderthal can learn, it seems. Correct answer, Scott.” A feral little mischievous glint lighting her grey eyes. Too true that the games had only just begun and his efforts in earning her respect had only just breeched the tip of the iceberg. But hard-headed as Azalea Grayson was, she wasn’t wholly selfish, not in her head at least. She knew just as well that she had to give a little in order to make...whatever this was...work, but the mechanics of going about that still yet eluded her. But all in good time. For now, she was content to tackle this rollercoaster with wary slowness. “I don’t believe anyone makes it through life without a few touchy subjects surfacing along the way, and if they have, they obviously have been sheltered under a rock for their entire existence.” And he confirmed her words, both the good and the uncomfortable. Choices and decisions at her hand, and yet she couldn’t deny him that one night a week. Compromises, Az, she reminded herself as she forced a nod. “The sleeping together thing can be discussed. The monikers...I suppose yes, indeed, we’ll see. There’s time to hash out the details later. For now, I have some thinking to do. Am I dismissed to go pack and wallow in indecision, or do we have anything else we need to cover?”

[itsafayeworld]

“I suppose that is true. Honestly, I just want to go home.” She sighed softly. “Are you new? I don’t think I recognize you.”

[azaleagrayson-blog]

“That, sweetheart, is where we differ. Home is the furthest thing from my list of goals, however I do want to be able to move back to New York. This place is no Juilliard, and I desperately mis the bustle of New York.” She echoed the other’s heavy sigh and closed her journal, setting the weathered tome to the side, “I suppose you could say that. I’ve been stuck in this hell hole for a few weeks, but I make a point to not get out and about much. I prefer to brood in private. And what about you? Did I hear right that you actually got away, but you got brought back? Tough luck, mate.”

[itsafayeworld]

“It’s been so quiet around here lately.. I seriously got dragged all the way back here for this?” Faye sighed annoyingly, mainly just complaining to herself not realizing anyone else was there.

[azaleagrayson-blog]

“No kidding, it’s like the calm before the storm.” Azalea commented, glancing up from the chair she’d squirreled away into with her journal. “Then again, wouldn’t you rather the quiet? At least if the natives are quiet it means they’re not bothering us.”

[scott-spencer-rp-blog]

He didn’t even bother to hold back a smirk as Azalea explained herself, wholly unsurprised that she had an answer even for that last semi-accusation. Rarely did she have an answer, and when it was lacking, she countered with scathing wit even still. “Such is the way of the world here. Please, Azalea, I don’t ask for much, but I ask this of you.” He bit his lip, “I would also ask that, if you desire sex, to limit your ‘conquests’ to my person. I’m a jealous man, and I won’t bother to deny that, so I just ask that, if you want it, you come to me. I won’t deny you, regardless of how it is you want it. Unless it’s something I’m just not willing to do. But that’s rare in itself.” He smiled, a genuine article rather than the smirks he often employed when faced with the young woman. “You can move in whenever you like. You’ll have your own room, but you will spend at least one night a week in my bed with me.”

[azaleagrayson-blog]

“The way of the world, as you put it, needs to be reevaluated if you ask me.” He’d not asked her, of course, but surely he knew by now that the insertion of her opinion was going to be an everyday curse. Scathing bitter contempt continued to boil in her blood towards the institution as a whole, but the irritation at Scott specifically had fizzled more to a low simmer. While annoyance flared now and again, she more so felt the pang of fear at new uncharted territory. “Christ on a cracker, just stop--” Asking wasn’t simply enough, and her hand raised, palm covering his mouth to shush him, “Request granted, but can we please avoid that particular topic? I have my reasons, no I won’t explain them to you, but I can’t even think about that topic of discussion.” Sex, she knew, was more than likely an end game around here, however she’d continue to avoid it for as long as humanly possible. Sex brought up entirely too many touchy stories, memories she wasn’t ready to resurface just yet. To soften the blow, she leaned up to capture a quick kiss when she removed his hand, “Touchy subject. But yeah, fine, I’ll bring my stuff over tonight. But I take it the sleeping with you one night a week part isn’t negotiable?” Azalea queried as she finally took a step back and stooped to pick up her discarded bag, “Do I get any say in this arrangement at all, Scott? And, so help me, I’m not calling you ‘sir’ or any such frivolous titles.”

[masterthomasjmccready]

“No it’s not, I do it all the time. It’s just i noticed somebody else out here. So I walked in a big circle to lose them. But yet here you are. So can you blame me for thinking I was being followed?”

[azaleagrayson-blog]

“Sounds as if someone shorted you on your anxiety medications, mate. Tell me, are you always this incredibly paranoid?”

“Believe me, though...the last thing I want right now, so following you isn’t on my agenda. I much prefer to do my soul-searching in private.”

[masterthomasjmccready]

“I come out here to be alone. Is there a reason why your following me.”

[azaleagrayson-blog]

“Don’t flatter yourself, Thomas; I’m just going on a walk. Is going on a walk to clear one’s thoughts illegal nowadays?”