APEX RACER.

DEAREST MOTHER, YOU KNOW BEST.

[gridmatriarch]

SAMIRA VALE. AFFILIATED WITH MARA'S AURELION CREW. PENNED BY FATIMAH, BLACK & ARAB. 25+.

former formula one driver. mother. legacy.

samira vale (age 55) is a retired french-egyptian formula one driver and one of the most respected women to have competed in the sport. known for her composure, technical intelligence, and consistency under pressure, she built a career defined by discipline rather than spectacle. during her time on the grid, she earned a reputation as a driver who rarely made mistakes, calculated, precise, and difficult to challenge.

since retiring, samira has remained closely tied to the sport, most notably through her daughter, clarisse vale. she maintains a reserved public presence, appearing selectively within the paddock and media, but is widely understood to hold significant influence behind the scenes. her experience within formula one has made her both protective and perceptive, particularly regarding the demands placed on younger drivers.

she is known for her composure, her restraint, and the quiet authority that follows her, the kind that does not need to be announced to be understood.

rules — selective & semi-private — character-driven, plot-focused writing — no ooc drama — mature themes may be present, written with discretion

[gridmatriarch]

nothing is going to sound as good as demetrius' post but here it goes omg...mara. you are the light and life of our friend group. you are the brightest angel in the room. you bring light to every room you step in, you are so good and kind and you speak up about what matters and you are so hardworking and true to yourself. even today, i think about how you were in the library doing hundreds of questions and asking me and aisha to help you practice some patient interviewing. you are going to be an amazing doctor and your patients are going to be so lucky to have you, but more than that, you are a good person who is so deeply loved by everyone. everyone who meets you loves, thinks you're amazing because you are. you are so wonderful that my heart clenches at the thought of you being a doctor. i'm going to cry at your wedding so this is just a teaser. happy birthday princess mara. @gridcrown

[gridcrown]

the ballroom is too bright. it always is, in monaco where light catches in crystal, in glass, in the careful shine of everything meant to be admired. it reflects off the marble floors and settles into the air like something permanent, like it expects to be remembered. clarissa moves through it the way she always has, measured, composed, every step placed exactly where it should be, every glance timed just enough to satisfy the people watching without giving them anything real. she has learned that balance early. she still feels it, though—the weight of their attention, the way it lingers too long, the way it sharpens when she passes. not because of her, never just because of her. clarissa pauses near one of the columns, fingers resting lightly against the stem of her glass, the cool surface grounding in a way nothing else here ever is. her gaze drifts across the room, not searching, not quite avoiding, just moving until . . . it finds her. samira vale does not need to announce herself. she never has. there is something about her that draws the room without asking for it, something quieter than presence but heavier than absence. people orbit her. clarissa watches her for a moment too long. just long enough for it to feel like something she should correct. the distance between them closes slowly, deliberately, as if it is something that needs to be approached rather than crossed. the noise of the room shifts around them, softens, as though it understands, instinctively, that this is not a conversation meant to belong to it. ❝ you’re late, ❞ clarissa says when she reaches her, her voice even, light enough to pass as polite, though it lands with more intention than that. her gaze flicks briefly over her, dress, posture, the effortless way she holds herself in a room that bends around her, and something tightens in her chest before she smooths it away. ❝ or did you just want to be noticed when you arrived? ❞ clarissa lifts her glass slightly, not drinking, just holding it there, something to do with her hands that doesn’t betray the way they feel faintly too still. ❝ they’ve been asking about you, ❞ she continues, her tone shifting back into something easier, something practiced. ❝ i think half of them are more interested in whether you’ll speak than anything i did this week. ❞ @gridmatriarch

[gridmatriarch]

The music does not stop as Samira approaches her daughter, it fractures. Not completely loudly, not enough for anyone to name it. But the rhythm shifts, the air tightening in that imperceptible way that only a few people in the room are trained to feel. Samira Vale does not enter spaces; she alters them. The light that spills so easily across everyone else seems to hesitate at her shoulders, catching in the sharp line of her posture, in the stillness she wears like something deliberate rather than passive. There is nothing ornamental about her, nothing accidental. Even here, surrounded by glass and gold and carefully curated ease, she has always owned the room more completely than anyone else inside it. “Late?” Samira repeats, her voice low, controlled, the word reshaped into something sharper than it was give. She glances once, not at Clarissa, but at the room, the people who have already begun pretending not to listen, and then back again, her attention narrowing with unsettling clarity. “If I intended to be noticed, Clarissa, you would not have needed to comment on it.” Her hand lifts, not to take a drink, but to still the rim of Clarissa’s glass where it hovers just slightly too untouched, her fingers brushing it with deliberate precision before withdrawing again. “You’ve done well this week,” Samira adds, the words placed carefully, stripped of excess, impossible to read as either praise or dismissal. “They are impressed. That matters here.” Her voice lowers, just enough that it no longer belongs to the room. "But I'm not. You can always do better. You have to be better." Her lips touch her glass, a quick sip and a smile to a passing couple. "But have you yet to address the rumors about you and Cassian? I'm waiting."