:･ﾟ✧ * grace louise * :･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ

twenty-five, witch. originally from atlanta los angeles. new bartender at the underground.

[lunaemoth]

[grace--raleigh-blog]

liavillace:

Lia remained quiet, offering Grace the same leveled expression she had. Adding too much to her own credibility sometimes backfired, and with Grace, there needed to be a little time for her to reach the conclusion herself. Lia could see it working as she saw the contemplation on Grace’s face. And then she finally caved and Lia threw her hands in the air. “Whoo!” She grinned cutely as Grace complimented the pair of them, before taking the opportunity to pick something out to wear. New body styled, and new legs prominently shown off, she headed to the living room, yelling for Grace. “Come on! We gotta go. You ready?” She called, struggling to fit her slightly larger feet into her regular shoes. “Where should we hit up first? Anyone you’re curious about?”

She’d gone back to her room, but then it’d begun. The nervousness. It rose from someplace deep---her bones, maybe, and by the time Lia came it was fully running through her blood. She sat there on her floor, in her smallest bra and jeans that sagged just ever so obviously at her ass, staring at the new more stick-ish version of herself, this tiny crane woman, in the upright mirror, and she had critiques for every single inch of her. It wasn’t awful, but all her dimensions were just slightly... off. Plus, no shortage of hatred bubbling up for her own taste in clothes, which had been scattered around her like a cyclone had been through. Her voice came out high squeaky torrent, and she hated that, too. “No, um, no no no. I am not ready. I’ll never be ready. Why do I own these things? Everything looks... like I’m the floral Mary Poppins, now. What is this?” She held up a blouse with a mixture of concern, revulsion, and confusion. The center had a pretty piece of lace. “Why do I own a literal doily shirt, Lia? What on earth can I possibly wear---” Maybe she wasn’t handling this as well as she’d thought she was.

[leo-suter]

[morganalefays]

[grace--raleigh-blog]

liavillace:

Lia couldn’t help but snort at Grace’s use of foul language. It didn’t happen often, which honestly just made it seem awkward and hilarious when she did use it. “It’s reversible. I’ve seen it before. I can fix it,” Lia offered confidently, leaving no room for Grace to doubt her. Of course, she couldn’t fix it, but Grace didn’t know that. “But only after you help me. I bet it didn’t even happen to just us. I bet it happened to other people too. And I bet you don’t want them stuck like us either, so you have to go out with me so I can collect data on who needs help, otherwise I can’t fix them. So are you gonna hide up here being selfish and insecure or are you going to help me help the people?” Lia gave Grace a pointed, expectant look. Logic and helping others were the only things that really got to the other. “Go ahead, Grace, take your time.”

“You have?” Grace felt equal parts confusion and reassurance. “When? I don’t remember hearing about face changing when we were in LA...” She’d kept her ears pretty close to the ground, but she’d never been as good at navigating the social circles there. More than once people had accused her of being some kind of narc---for what, folding her hands in her lap maybe? Lia was something of a social chameleon, whereas Grace had always just found one or two like-minded spell-crafters and pulled what she could from them. 

But Lia made some actually good arguments, for going out, despite her reservations. Grace chewed her lip a minute. “I... I suppose we should check around, and see if it’s just us...” She made up her mind, then, and nodded briskly. “Let me get some clothes on, then.” As she ducked out the door, she added, “I do think we make cute brunettes, for the record. Just... scientifically speaking, of course.”

[grace--raleigh-blog]

liavillace:

Grace was making a lot of good points. However, and maybe the spell gave Lia a brain fitting the age of whatever this body was, but the consequences were not something she felt were applicable. And Grace’s nagging was just annoying now. Lia rolled her eyes. “C’mon, when are we ever gonna have this happen again?” The chances were likely, but that didn’t matter. “I bet if we go to the grocery store or something, some DILFs would definitely be into whatever you got going on. And I could probably con some teenage boys into buying me stuff.” She edged towards the door in case she had to make a break for it. “No one’ll even know it’s you having any fun. So you can keep your stick-in-the-mud reputation. Please. You’re killing me, Mom. Like,” Lia made a face. “Killing me.”

Of all the possible responses, she really should’ve predicted this one---and maybe she would’ve, if she’d had more time between freaking out in the bathroom and coming immediately to wake up Lia. “I---I just don’t feel comfortable wandering around, maybe impersonating someone else---I mean---” She glanced in the mirror. “It’s fine, it’s... it still sort of resembles me, so maybe if I wore, like... a hat, or a scarf or something...” She was being slowly corrupted, and stopped herself. “No, we need to find out what happened first. Then, if it’s reversib---how to reverse it, because it is definitely reversible,” she said firmly. “And I don’t want to scam old men, or you to scam young ones, and if you call me Mom again, I will ground you, you---you little... asshole.”

[grace--raleigh-blog]

liavillace:

The idea that someone else was out there with her face made Lia visibly gag. She trusted no bitch with her body. There wasn’t really a lot to be done though, especially counting the fact that Lia’s own magic was pretty damn rusty. Well, she figured if Ghost could do it every now and again, this wasn’t really a problem since it wasn’t permanent. Lia sighed, pulling away from Grace and the trashcan to stand up. It was a little disorienting to see over the tops of a lot of things, but kind of cool at the same time. Standing now, she could see her reflection in her vanity. “I’m a tall baby,” Lia concluded, turning her shoulder slightly to look at herself in different angles, a little more satisfied and interested in what was going on. “I’m a tall hot baby.” She grinned. Lia still looked cute. She could work with it. “Nah, I’m over it. I’m cute and youthful. We’ll change back, I’m not stressed. Neither should you be.” Lia moved to her wardrobe to look through her closet for an outfit that would fit. Her regular dresses were going to be mini-dresses. That was neat. “Hey! Let’s go out and take these things for a test run.”

Lia was... adaptable. Grace had known this quite early on, but it was a little unsettling to see it happen so quickly, under the circumstances. She got to her feet clutching her towel protectively, and watched Lia take in all her new angles, opening her mouth several times with little -ums- and -ahs- that didn’t quite have breath. With the pronouncement of being “over it”, she blinked, and then winced. “I’m not stressed---” she started, an obvious lie from her tone, but she cut off abruptly as Lia went over to the closet. Her eyes widened. “Absolutely not---I mean... just... No, okay? Look, as glad as I am that you’re... good... like I just said---these could be someone else’s faces we’re wearing---we can’t just go parading around in them! We need to find out what happened and make it right,” she protested, brushing damp hair off her face. It would’ve probably carried more authority if she was dressed, she reflected sadly.

[grace--raleigh-blog]

liavillace:

The words ‘don’t panic’ were pretty unsettling, but Lia didn’t think she often panicked. The delusion’s seriousness, though, had Lia sitting up to stretch her legs out. At least until she was promptly startled when her feet hit the frame of her bed and she pulled them back. Brows furrowed, only half-listening to the lady talking, Lia lifted her covers to see her legs looked much longer than before. Finally, she looked up to the woman with wide-eyes. The half-second pause between them seemed like a lifetime before Lia scrambled off her bed to go check a mirror. Unfortunately, the lack of equilibrium, strange limb proportions, and probably being drunk as fuck had her falling over, hard. “Oh God,” Lia groaned, rolling over on the ground, grabbing the dark brown hair that suddenly entered her vision while she was sprawled at the woman’s feet. The tin of her trash beside her wardrobe showed her her reflection and Lia promptly grabbed it, holding it close to her face. “I’m twelve– I’m twelve!” She looked up at, who she had to finally concede was Grace. “Who am I? What are you suppose to be? You look like my mom! You look like this person’s mom.” Lia gestured wildly between them.

“Oh, oh god,” she muttered, as Lia collapsed on her new legs. Grace hadn’t had that problem, but Lia did look like she’d regressed back to teenage years---and honestly, now that she considered it, it’d taken Grace an embarrassingly long time to pick up on this. She’d showered, for christ’s sake. Adjusting her towel, she tried to kneel beside Lia, who was gazing into the trash can’s reflection with horror. “It’s not---I don’t know. I don’t know who we are. Maybe someone’s out there with our faces right now but---” It was probably best not to speculate. Hesitantly, she reached out and put a hand on Lia’s shoulder, only to pull back when addressed as a mom. “I don’t think---I’m not that old,” she protested, weakly, shifting to grab the trashcan and pull it so it reflected both of them, side by side. “Am I?” Then she stopped. “Look, it’s not important. I’m sure we can figure this out.” She forced a smile, pained as it was. “We just need to... to keep our heads, alright?”

[grace--raleigh-blog]

liavillace:

It had been a long time since Lia drank and partied as much as she did last night. Given how hungover she knew she was going to be, she didn’t even put an alarm on for the next day. But fuuuck, Lia thought as she heard Grace’s voice. The one night she forgot to lock the door… Lia turned over, pulling the sheet higher as Grace entered her room, apparently prompted by the gurgling sound Lia offered her from beneath the sheet. It didn’t seem like Grace was planning on leaving since she kept talking, so Lia finally lowered the sheet and turned over. Blinking through bleary eyes and no real particular thoughts, Lia stared blankly at the woman at the end of her bed. She laid still processing being alive and what exactly she was looking at. This was certainly not Grace. This was an old lady. Finally, Lia managed to groan out a reply. “God— I’m still drunk?”

If there had been a shred of doubt that this was Lia from her appearance, her attitude confirmed it completely. Grace winced, trying to ease the shock a little. “Uh, actually... I really don’t think you are... Look, don’t panic. I know I don’t look like myself, but... clearly there’s some sort of spell at play or something. I’m still Grace, just---I look different.” She took a deep breath, and added quietly. “So... so do you, actually. Don’t---don’t freak out. It’s all going to be okay---We’ll figure it out, okay? We can fix this.” She really didn’t know that they could---changing faces was quite advanced and she had no experience with it. “Maybe it’s temporary, just someone’s idea of a joke... A stupid prank?” Her voice was rising, but no, she wasn’t panicking. Not yet. Definitely. Not... panicking... yet.

[grace--raleigh-blog]

@liavillace

Grace stepped out of the shower, washing the last of the sleep and the scents of the party from her skin. She pulled a towel from the rack, humming, and wiped the mirror clear of fog. And stopped abruptly.

There were no words.

After a moment, and trying to come up with a polite way to put it, she padded barefoot in her towel to Lia’s room. Her roommate was likely still asleep, but she opened the door tentatively, knocking lightly. “Lia... Lia, wake up. It’s Grace---um...” She caught sight of a mess of brown hair tangled over the pillows, and blinked. Not just me, then. “I don’t mean to alarm you... but something’s happened. I think you should wake up.” She moved around to the edge of the bed, keeping distance in case Lia didn’t recognize her---just as she didn’t really recognize Lia. But who else would be sleeping in that bed? No, something shifty had happened last night. She pressed down panic, as it rose in her chest.

[agentsdaily]

[grace--raleigh-blog]

roryxsloan:

Rory’s gaze lingered on her for a second, doing his best to appreciate the carefully composed pose, tone, everything. Totally gave herself away watching that rotating sunny cup, though. But it wasn’t a crime to be a vampire, technically, and he didn’t feel the slightest bit bad for picking up all the free meals he could. It took a show of restraint he didn’t normally shoot for just to give her a perfectly earnest-sounding reply. “I try to get drunk, mostly. Ignore my roommate. I was thinkin’ about maybe getting an Xbox? I’m not the coffin-dwelling type, but you knew that.” Since she’d talked to him directly for the first time in broad sunlight. Nothing revealing in that answer, though he also tended to wander around town, too. “Why, you lookin’ to hang out or something? Finally make some friends?” The question was posed with a lazy grin, because it appeared that hope sprang eternal.

It was probably rude to stare at the cup. She just couldn’t get past the fact that it was full of literal blood, that he was going to consume---maybe she was being a prude. Or possibly... speciesist? Or maybe it was just that Rory made her uncomfortable. She thought she’d probably have an easier time adapting if it was Syl instead. Maybe.

Grace watched him answer, mutely, basically just looking at his mouth and thinking about where exactly the fangs were hidden. She smiled slightly when the uptick in his voice made it seem like he made a joke. Until he asked why, and she came back to herself. 

“Mmm?” Friends? Hanging out. Right. She blushed furiously. “I’ve... I’ve mostly just met people I work with, to tell you the truth...oh, and a couple people around town.” Elizabeth, her new friend from the music store, and Luci and little Olive. Meeting them surely counted, even if it had been brief. Distracted and a little defensive, she didn’t read much into his grin. “So I guess, what... would you have in mind?” Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get to know him better. Maybe then she could simply ask, about the statue. Or was that incredibly naive? She set her jaw and decided it wasn’t. She could take care of herself just fine.

[grace--raleigh-blog]

issaghost:

The girl was up and helping him quicker than he could register. Her voice was worried, her hands shook—- though he couldn’t tell if it was from the nerves or to hold back the natural instinct of using magic to fix it. Ghost knew that feeling. Years on the streets, sometimes a twitch of a finger or a quick incantation was his only way out. Magic became a necessity more than breathing it felt. He wondered if it was the same for her.

“Saving grace.” He chuckled, as he reached for his own napkins to help clean up his mess. Ghost could tell he was seconds away from babbling on or freezing completely ( honestly, he couldn’t tell what was worse ), but he felt his mouth open, “Ahh— don’t worry about—” and close as she noticed his drawing. Shit. 

Busted.

There’d been numerous of times spent out in public and nonchalantly scribbling people’s faces. Mostly they didn’t notice. But there were an acute few who’d notice a rando staring and stopping…and staring again, to then realize he was doing something they weren’t particularly comfortable with. He didn’t know what type of reaction she’d have to it…and he didn’t know if he wanted to find out. “Uhh—-no, no, never, what? It…it’s, her.” He said, quickly pointing at another patron in the cafe. Only, to realize moments later, that she was old…and fat, and nothing like what his drawing appeared to be. Aka, attractive. “It’s her…50 years ago? Possibly? Just— tell me to shut up or else I’ll have my foot so far down my mouth that it’ll start protruding outta my ass.”

She went from confusion at hearing her name, about to ask if they’d met before, to being marginally amused by his reaction. Sure, it was a little startling to see someone had been watching her, a little creepy. But he was clearly embarrassed about it. And, a terrible liar. 

Grace nodded slowly, looking to the old woman. The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, as he tried and failed to sell it, spiraling out eventually into nothing. She ducked her head to hide a smile, and focused on sopping up the remaining mess. “Well, I suppose if she were to see it, she might be flattered.” She could give him that much to be generous. It’s not like he’d been drawing her with horns or a tail. “A bit wary about someone watching her, maybe---especially if she’s got magic.” She tossed the napkins out, most of the damage was taken care of even as someone who worked there had finally come from to help. “But... still. It’s quite nice. The drawing, I mean.”

She took a breath to calm herself, and eyed him curiously, now that the situation was under control. Another witch---or warlock, depending on where you were from. Really, she hadn’t met many here despite where she worked. “How did you know my name, though?”

[notonlineanymore-blog]

[grace--raleigh-blog]

roryxsloan:

Curt, to the point… Rory realized that something had changed. Maybe his coworker’s opinion of him, or of what kinds of interactions they were meant to have. There wasn’t any of the fumbling he’d come to associate with Grace, and he doubted that it was because she was more comfortable around him. The way she still kept a reasonable distance between them was proof enough that she wasn’t exactly comfortable.  “Oh, I’m just here for the night. You’d think I would work more day shifts, since I can with this baby face and all,” he answered with a friendly but tight tone that matched hers. The last time he’d bothered to sound so barely pleasant was at his release hiring. He kept his hands occupied as he spoke, picking a bright yellow mug out of the worn-out employee cupboard and browsing the selection of blood available in the ‘Employees Only’ fridge. It was in the microwave heating to a comfortable 98.6 before he swiveled back to Grace. “But no, they keep me loitering around here all night. I almost have no free time, y’know?” Almost.

Right. Baby-face, indeed. Vampires not showing their true ages unless exposed to the sun had inspired her---along with an episode of Buffy---to look into spells that could simulate sunlight. So far she’d been only partially successful, and it wasn’t exactly subtle to shine a light on someone, but maybe one day it’d become useful for detecting vampires. It might also just be a good distraction, in a situation like the one the other night. She could’ve shone the light, startled the vandal, and---and what, exactly? She had plenty of personal protection, but if he chose to attack her physically there was only so much she could do. She wasn’t a Hunter, she wasn’t---well, Vic. It’d have been idiotic to provoke a vampire. It still was, she reminded herself, pushing back at the instinct to confront him about it. “It’s... good of you to stick around, though. I’m sure the management appreciates you giving up your nights.” The words were flat and devoid of interest as she watched him heat up some blood. It was difficult to ignore the churning in her stomach at the sight of it. “What do you do, when you get free time?” Her tone was passably casual, she thought.

[agentromanof-deactivated2018062]

[grace--raleigh-blog]

issaghost:

The cafe was bare, just a few stragglers here and there, a woman patron lost in their thoughts like he was.

Ghost doesn’t know exactly at which point he begins doodling. It’s a skeleton of a sketch, nothing flushed or of substance. But his mind kept thinking back to her cheekbones, the shadows of a collarbone, the way slim fingers wrapped around the thin handle of her coffee mug. The slightest details of a woman. He was shading in her chipped nail polish when he saw…it. The hand movement that only someone with magical capabilities would know of. Ghost’s initial shock was clear as day—- and his mindset was less on what she did, and more on who she was.

The girl was the first witch he’d run into in Castor…well, besides Lia, and that was its own headache. When she noticed he was watching he saw her initial horror. The one of someone exposed. But he shook his head, then proceeded to do a little slight of hand himself. The gesture was simple in itself, a twirl and emphasis of his index and middle finger. In response, his own obnoxiously sugary drink began to fizzle. His returning smile was triumphant. That was—- until the cup exploded. “Shit!” Several curses flew from his mouth, along with gasps of surprise from other customers. “Dammit…I always get the bubbles and the bomb one mixed up.”

The man at the table who’d seen her shook his head, and she watched him curiously, closely. Which it turned out was totally unnecessary, along with her worries that she’d given herself away---his drink bubbled with a charm she didn’t know, and her eyes widened---and then it exploded and she jumped in her seat.

“Oh, my god---” Getting up hurriedly, she darted for napkins, and then over to the table, now covered in liquid. It was seeping into a drawing, and she quickly tried to soak up the worst of it. “Are you okay---the shards, you’re not hurt are you?” she asked, looking over in alarm, while she tried to rescue what he’d been sketching with swipes of napkin that were only partially successful. She checked where she was placed---but the staff was looking, she couldn’t risk a cleaning charm. This would have to do. “Your drawing, I’m sorry---” Her eyes caught on the pencil lines, the outline of a face... And she abruptly froze. “Is... is that me?” she asked, her voice weak as she stared at the sketch.