(ella purnell, ciswoman, she/her/hers) Someone said they saw [GRACE MADDEN] around Rift Valley the night of Miles Logan’s Murder. People are wondering if they had something to do with it. The [28] year old claims to be [ON A DATE WITH SOMEONE SHE WON'T NAME] at the time of the murder. They are said to be [CLEVER], which can play to their innocence until you consider they are also [UNTRUTHFUL]. But who knows if they are telling the truth? Rumor has it, they [ARE NOT] a witness in the investigation. Regardless, the [MAFIOSO] who happens to be the [WEAPONS SPECIALIST] is a suspect, but so is everyone else. (soda, she/her, 29, cst)
tw: death, car accident, child neglect, guns, murder, pregnancy
Grace grew up lying for her parents, who were both connected with the mafia. Her mother disposed of bodies and was skilled at making people disappear. Her father was a weapons specialist. From a young age, she had no concept of morality.
When she was a young teen, her dad started taking her shooting range and taught her about guns. Grace took and interest in guns, and began to teach her about modifying weapons. By the time she was 14, she was able to take apart multiple kids of guns and modify them with various specifications. She worked with knives and other weapons, but her first love was fire arms.
During a weapons exchange gone wrong, a client pulled a gun on her father. Her father had her wide in the office while the altercation happened and, as soon as the weapon was pulled on her dad, Grace fired a gun at the aggressor, killing him. Her father made sure it was taken care of. It, unfortunately, entrenched her into the mafia.
Grace spent the rest of her teen years officially learning under her father. She was already a murderer before she was 16 and it was her family business, she might as well be trained to take over his position as a weapons specialist.
But to everyone else, Grace was a normal teen girl. She was a cheerleader, and popular, and applying to university as a physics major. The girl-next-door with large hazel eyes and an innocent smile. That was what she allowed people to see, unless they got close enough to see the mask slip.
Her job was working with her father, once she graduated college, but most thought she worked elsewhere. Just like her dad, she never gave a straight answer. They just knew she worked as an "engineer".
When she was 24, a random car accident took the life of both of her parents. Nothing suspicious, which surprised Grace more. There wasn't a hit on them. Just... a simple accident. Grace barely had time to mourn their loss before she took over her dad's line of work.
This allowed her to connect with an ex-boyfriend and, within a year, she became pregnant with his child. Both agreed to have him be involved from a very, very far distance so they didn't normalize their life.
Again, to everyone who isn't involved in the mafia or is close to Grace, she puts on a sweet smile. She takes her daughter to he dance recitals, worried deeply that she will get hurt during t-ball practice, and continues to live her double life.
The crowds were a little much. Grace stared at herself in the mirror. Taking a break from the constant need to place a sweet face on was needed. But that didn't mean that she was completely alone in the bathroom. As soon the the door open, she stiffened and placed the usual smile back onto her lips.
Trying to navigate the ballroom with two drinks proved to be more difficult than Grace imagined. As she walked forward, people cut her off and caused her to stagger back. "Shit," she mumbled under her breathed as the beverages' liquid rocked back and began to spell all over her hands.
"Eying for a place to sit?" Grace asked when she took noticed of the person. She had been watching them aimlessly look at the tables and felt a bit of pity well in her. Welly, what she assumed to be pity. Feelings and emotions were never something Grace was good at placing.
Grace thought of herself as a perceptive person, but with everyone's faces obscured, she felt more on edge. So, when someone walked into her, her guard went up and she glared from behind her own mask. "Excuse me?"
"I think that was mine?" Grace noted. Her finger pointed to the glass that the other guest had picked up. She really shouldn't be drinking too much, given that she had to leave rather early to be home with her daughter. The babysitter wouldn't want her coming home at three in the morning. But Grace still wanted to live a little bit.
As expected, after a few drinks, people were starting to brawl. Such a quiet town, anyone driving through might think, but everyone who lived here knew better. Grace kept her eyes on the fist fight breaking out and spoke to whoever happened to listen, "Class act, really."
"How is it that you always know how to be the most inconvenient?" Grace didn't even turn to look up from her mirror. She had stowed herself away far from the other masquerade guests to fix her makeup in peace. But it seemed that some others found a way to bother her anyways.
"Surprised this town's having a little fun with everyone going on. A masquerade really?" Disappearances, deaths and the tensions rising between the factions in town. All Grace could do is keep a sweet smile on and pretend she knew nothing of one particular side to this conflict. "Little suspicious, isn't it?"
he leans slightly against the bar, composed, as if the tension in the room is nothing more than background noise. “i hope you’re enjoying yourself,” antonio says, voice warm, directed at his weapons specialist who stood beside him as he accepted a drink from the bartender, with a polite smile. the event was interesting if only to observe how outrageous the fashions were. it brought a small smile to his lips seeing some feathery get up that was slowly shedding as they took each step. antonio couldn’t help but chuckle into his glass. “i hope your services aren’t needed for this evening. if only because blood is terribly hard to get out of cashmere.” he gestures at his tuxedo.
It was hard for Grace to leave her little one at home, but she needs to be at this event. Mingling with those closest to her and pretending to just be a normal member of society. Grace has her appearances and she maintaining it is her top priority. Always. When Antonio asks Grace if she is enjoying herself, the normal pressed smile forms on her face. This smile was one she rehearsed a million times. "I like to think people will be behaving themselves tonight," Grace replies. Though, she knew better than to trust the denizens of this town. No one ever behaved, her included. "If you need something that doesn't cause much bleeding, I can see what can be done. But it depends on how clean you tend to handle things."
he rolled his eyes at the question, but indulged regardless. he wasn't the kind of person to tell her no, even if he knew it would end up making him look like a fool. "n-i-e-s..."
he trailed off, voice halting, both because he had a feeling he'd fucked it up anyway, and because of the next thing grace said. she's tall for her age. and he did this stupid thing, he looked himself up and down. "oh," yujin said, "do you think that's cause..." because he was tall, but he didn't say that part. he often felt like he wasn't saying half the things he wanted to when faced with her, like he was at least exercising some form of caution he didn't normally care to uphold. not mentioning where she got her defiant spirit from was more of a choice.
yujin watched as grace's gaze returned to the child. he wanted to turn, to look as well, but he stood tensely and entirely still, arms tightly at his sides, books grasped with too much pressure between his fingers. he was keeping himself from turning, and it was taking some true effort on his part. he was waiting for some kind of permission that he didn't think he'd receive.
"can she spell nietzsche? she's gotta get ready for preschool and all that."
"N-I-E-T-Z-S-C-H-E. That's why you couldn't find it, Jinnie."
Yujin didn't need to finish his sentence. Grace knew what he was asking. She nodded. The height worried Grace for no other reason than she was worried that it would make Eugenia stand out compared to the other preschoolers. While bullying wasn't common in younger ages, she still didn't want her daughter to feel different than the other kids. Complete with the defiant attitude, it was hard not to be concerned with how preschool was going to go. Such worry was something Grace tried to hide.
Grace glanced, again, at Yujin. She noticed his hands, their tight grip on his books; how he kept his focus away from the child and onto the books or Grace. "She's in her own world with the plushes right now," Grace noted. "You should see her. It's sweet." Maybe that was enough to get him to turn. It pained Grace to deny him complete access, but Yujin was horrible at keeping his connections quiet. For the safety of the child, he couldn't be close. But that made what little she could allow all the more important.
"No," Grace stated. She wasn't going to tolerate Yujin's question, but she was going to answer honestly. There were things that worried her about Eugenia, though Grace was in an almost constant state of worry when it came to her daughter. "But we are getting there with spelling her name. Four is the normal age for that, though. Getting her first initial down is good enough. She's a little behind with gross motor skills. But, she's long so it might just be harder for her to learn to control her limbs."
"didn't realise it was you," he offered as a half-hearted explanation when she said she'd expected a please. of course he had realised it was her. in fact, this might've been the only reason he'd showed up to a bookstore of all places. something in his stance grew more tense as he watched her gaze shift from the book in his hands to the child, somewhere just out of his sight. he didn't turn to look himself -- he felt like that might've been too obvious, and grace watched her like a hawk anyway, he didn't need to contribute right there and then.
"yeah, the store ran out of nietzsche, i thought this was the second best option available," yujin said, tone even, but a sharp inhale followed his words. "how is she?"
It probably wasn't the right time to jab at Yujin. He was behaving, for once, in public. But it was hard to believe that he would be reading philosophy. A small smirk danced on Grace's lips. Her eyes stayed locked on her daughter. "Do you know how to spell Nietzsche?" she asked Yujin without even a sideways glance.
She did turn to look up at him after he asked about the kid. Grace nodded during her brief glance at Yujin. "Doctor says she's tall for her age," she spoke. A soft, genuine smile threatened to perk the corners of her mouth. "Hitting her milestones, though potty training has been rough. Can't imagine where she gets her defiant spirit from. And working on spelling her name so she's ready for preschool in fall."
Soph let out an exhale when she realized it was only Grace, Zak's friends mom. "Uh yeah... I um. I haven't told him yet." It was a hard concept, how do you tell a two year old someone he called uncle was now dead. "I'm not even sure he would understand what is going on, you know? He is just so young."
"I don't envy you," Grace admitted. The kids were still toddlers. Hell, Grace was still potty training Eugenia. The death of a close friend, one that her child knew as well, would be impossible to explain. "I've been trying to keep Eugenia away from all the cameras and the spectacle of it all."
perhaps yujin looked a little out of place at the bookshop. a figure clad in black amongst chirpy book covers, with an intense look of focus etched into his features that seemed unfitting for the cookbook he was analysing. in fact, he held a stack of them under his arm, like he was all of a sudden particularly desperate to pick up a new hobby. having decided on an uninspiring title about slowcooker recipes ( and a few more books like it ), he turned to leave the aisle. except, someone was in his way. mild dismay sank into his brow.
"can you.. can you move, i'm trying to get through--"
The bookstore was nice place to bring Eugenia. It encouraged reading, though sometimes the prices could be a little expensive, and the small alcove for children had enough space for the toddler to play with some of the little plushies as long as she was gentle with them. Her eyes were locked on the toddler, a little too protective perhaps, until she heard a familiar voice.
"No please or excuse me? I expected more from you, Jinnie."
"101 Simple Slowcooker Recipes for Beginners," Grace read the of Yujin's book out loud before immediately putting her eyes back on her child. "Doing some intellectual reading, I see?"
Location: Rift Repairs
Status: Open @thefaultstarters
Soph looked up from the desk as she heard the gingle of the bells on the front door. It had only been a couple hours since she heard the news about Miles. He was like a brother to her, someone she looked up to. Someone her son called uncle. "Are you here to give your condolences or just gawk at us?" She questioned as she pinned them with her stare.
Grace was staring, though she didn't quite mean to. Face blank, with an eye expression. It wasn't until Soph called her out that the emotion ticked into place. A concerned smile. Warmth behind her eyes. "It's not really easy to ask how Zakaria is handling everything," Grace noted. Such conversations were had to have, especially as young as their children. If she was in Soph's shoes, Grace wasn't sure how she could even talk to Eugenia about such grief or explain to her why it happens.
