sunshine

26 • he/they • class of 2016 as sunbeams grace my cold cheeks, i am reminded that we too have the power to warm the world with our inherent light.

[soleilcheniere]

léo daudin & nonbinary. ⇢ SOLEIL CHÉNIÈRE, age 26, graduated Gilchrist University in 2016 as an ART HISTORY major. THEY/HE were born in MARSEILLES , FRANCE & has been living in PARIS, FRANCE working as an ARTIST/CURATOR. SOLEIL is known to be OPENMINDED, CREATIVE, SECRETIVE & SYBARITIC and that might be because THEY are a SCORPIO. ⇠ sophie. 22. est. she/her.

hi friends ! i’m sophie, this is my child soleil ! their bio (& wcs!) is below the cut, feel free to like this for me to swing by to plot, or feel free to swing by if something catches your eye !

no one would deny that they were raised in the lap of luxury. money, food, trips - there was never an issue with them getting as they pleased. soleil chénière is the only child of two art curators, raised never knowing what it was like to want something. 

that didn’t make them spoiled (or, well, not in their own mind); they maintained a soft heart and an open mind throughout their youth. they were always known to be a shoulder to cry on, a source of comfort for their friends, someone who will listen (even if you were to call at three in the morning).

a love for the arts flourished in them from their youth. painting, drawing, and everything in between, soleil gravitated towards art as others were drawn to sports, languages, music. they developed their skills in painting, specializing in landscapes, almost always being found with some form of paint on their clothes or under their nails.

when it came time for higher education, their father pushed them towards gilchrist - after all, he graduated from the same university almost twenty years prior, why shouldn’t his child get the same level of education that he did? and soleil’s english wasn’t all that bad, despite how nervous they were about having to use it in day-to-day life at first.

they didn’t find the gravediggers; the gravediggers found them. it was amongst the organization that they thrived. their closest friends were gravediggers, their mentors, their found family -- all gravediggers. they maintained that reputation of being a shoulder to cry on. they were almost always in or around gilchrist manor, that same paint from their youth under their nails, a smile almost permanent on their expression.

because of their deep love for the gravediggers, graduating felt almost like a piece of them was torn away. they moved to paris, taking up residence in their family’s studio apartment there, working as a curator on their own; they had never felt quite so lonely.

the invitation back brightened their spirits immensely. they got to go back to a place they called their second home. being back amongst their friends was something they needed, but it has been clouded by the recent announcement of the death of dr. gilchrist. they try to keep a positive outlook; after all, everyone needs a support system, but their warm welcome back doesn’t feel so warm anymore.

wanted connections !

ex(es?): any gender ! their relationship could’ve ended amicably or not, maybe it just ended because they went their separate ways upon graduation !

past hookups: similar to above, but without a long-term romantic attachment. 

a mentor: someone who helped soleil ease into gilchrist and the gravediggers organization; maybe this was the person who recruited them into the organization?

found family: a group similar in age to them - they don’t all have to like each other all the time (after all, what is a family without drama?), but these are the people soleil would be found with a majority of the time during their time in college.

best friend: they were attached at the hip. maybe they still are ! maybe they’ve kept in contact since graduation, maybe not ! but during their college years, soleil and this person were practically inseparable. they shared their deepest secrets over plenty of wine; soleil couldn’t imagine their life without them.

devotion & delusion: unrequited love ; soleil had a crush on this character (or this character had a crush on them!) but never acted on it. seeing them again is like the shock of cold water to the face. does the other know about the past feelings? soleil hopes not. could those feelings rekindle? perhaps !

rivals: how could you hate this ball of sunshine? well, i’m sure some did. for whatever reason, soleil and this character do not get along, and they are not excited to see them again. they’ll deal with it, though - maybe the other will just leave them be.

[gravediggershq-deactivated20201]

send an emoji to ask about this gravedigger’s:

♟- favorite boardgame in the den 🏆 - biggest accomplishment ⏰ - sleep schedule 💻 - open tabs 🚿 - average nightly routine 🧹 - standards for cleanliness 🤳 - most recent social media post 🎧 - most listened to artists and/or songs 📱 - most recent text (incoming or outgoing) 💀 - weirdest thing they keep in their room 🙊 - bad habits 🍀 - good luck charm ❄ - favorite weather 😨 - fears 🍲 - favorite dish 🍹 - preferred beverage 🎙️ - go-to karaoke song 📚 - currently reading 📔 - note-taking style 🤫 - best kept secret 📺 - current tv show/movie they’re watching

[soleilcheniere]

islaherveaux​:

“Do they still do it like that? I don’t know why people just took a picture and then used that so the model could go rest and have a mimosa or five.“ Maybe that was just something Isla had come up with in her mind since she didn’t want to ask about the exact process. 

“But, you know, if there is someone with intimate knowledge about their body, it’s certainly me.“ And boy, she wasn’t kidding. “I have always wanted someone to paint me, so… You are the boss.“ Isla smiled brightly at them, patting Soleil’s shoulder as she stood beside them. “Is it? How cute.“ Now, Isla didn’t know how to reply. Did they really did not remember how she had basically spilled her guts and dumped all of her problems on their lap years ago? Whatever, she really hoped they had forgotten all about it. “You are the boss. Just tell me what to do.“

“Well, I still do it like that. There are painters who work from reference images instead, but I prefer the feeling of... painting with the model in front of me, being able to watch them breathe and interact with the objects around them, even in... a minimal way. The way a hand may move slightly over a piece of silk is different than the way that the same hand may move over cotton, does this make sense? I prefer painting from a vignette that is alive, not one that was alive at one point. This might make it more difficult, yes, but I trust my models to be able to do as they tell me they can. And breaks can be taken - they are taken. It is not as if I expect you - or anyone - to sit around for hours without using the restroom or getting something to eat or drink.” They know that they’re rambling, but she’s started them down that path, and, once they’re there, it’s hard to stray away.

At the how cute comment, they felt a pain in their chest that they couldn’t really describe. Doing their best to not let the smile drop from their face, they nod a little bit more than necessary, glancing back at the canvas. Of course they remember everything from their college days; Soleil’s memory when it comes to other people is extraordinary. But does she remember? Soleil decides it’s best not to press. Running their tongue over their teeth, they nod a little bit. “Well... we need a good amount of time to set aside - do you know when would work for you? Preferably starting shortly after dawn, just to be able to take advantage of as much light as we possibly can get.”

[soleilcheniere]

aurcraa​:

“I don’t know,” she sighed with a nod, eager to change the subject.

As they started to talk about colors, she tilted her head to look back over at the painting. The colors were really pretty, those were two of her favorites, too. “Talk to me like I’m about to buy this Soleil original,” Aurora said, throwing her voice to sound a bit more Parisian. “What inspires you to use such colors in this work, this…” she gestured toward the unfinished work before them “this masterpiece!”

They can tell that she wants to change the subject, so they decide it’s best to leave it there. No need to make things more morbid (or tense) than they already were, after all. “Oh, please,” they spoke, rolling their eyes playfully and crossing their arms. “This is no Soleil original, this is no masterpiece -- it is... you can have it for free, if you want it.” Maybe they just didn't have the energy or the emotional capacity to start talking about the art at that moment. That doesn’t wipe the smile from their face, though. “I just like the... the vibes of the colors. Truly, if you want it, it is yours to keep. But let me finish it first - I cannot have anyone hanging an unfinished piece of mine anywhere.”

[soleilcheniere]

madiecosta​:

Madie still didn’t know to feel about the knot in her stomach that had appeared the second she saw Gilchrist’s video and hadn’t disappeared since. It made her swap out her coffee for some tea instead, because that would make it all better. The sounds of utensils scraping against plates carried too loudly for her to stay for brunch, so she took her cup of tea and a small bowl of fruit out to the garden.

She hadn’t expected to see Soleil, so lost in their own element that her first greeting went unnoticed. Madie gave them a small smile when they turned, “You’re missing brunch,” she repeated, lifting her bowl of fruit. “Although I’m sure the atmosphere out here is a lot easier to stomach. Have you eaten anything yet?”

They were almost surprised to hear that they were missing brunch, although this wasn’t exactly the first time they’d accidentally missed a meal because of art. A little smile rises up onto their face at the question, shaking their head. “Thank you for reminding me, though you’re probably right; I don’t think I want to go in there right now.” They knew Madie; she graduated the year before them, and, luckily, they were pretty good with faces and names.

“I can go without brunch for the day - I’m sure dinner’ll come around sooner than we know it.” They hardly wanted to imagine the atmosphere inside the dining room right now. “I understand why you came out here,” they spoke sympathetically, cleaning off the brush that was in their hand. They knew that they were practically repeating things back at her, but they didn’t want to press too far or cross any boundaries that they didn’t know about. “Are you... doing alright?” They figured that that was a safer question to ask than anything else.

[soleilcheniere]

aurcraa​:

“I think it happened before we got here,” Aurora confessed, hoping that believing her own hunch would be enough to be true.

Her eyes drifted over to what Soleil was painting, looking for a way to change the conversation. It was her fault for the uncomfortable silence hanging in the air, after all. “So, tell me about the colors.”

“You’re probably right - but if that’s the case, why are we here? To solve it?” They were no expert in things like this; they felt incredibly out of their depth - were there any detectives in the crowd that had been welcomed back? Journalists? People who could figure out what was going on? Because, to Soleil, they were almost useless in a situation like this.

Giving her a little smile as she asked about the colors, they shrugged. “Pinks and blues have always been my favorite. I’m... naturally drawn to them. So... I wanted to paint somewhere that had plenty of shades of both pink and blue... and here we are. I have not thought about the meaning of any of it - if you were looking for a deeper answer. I just wanted to keep my hands and my mind busy for a little while.”

[soleilcheniere]

geyserian​:

Something about the way Soleil described it made her feel uneasy. Emotion, for the most part, was our of a person’s control. But what extended even further than an internal battle was that of what happened in nature. It was a complex ordeal, trying to understand something that humans played no part in, yet influenced so harshly. 

“Death is present in nature, I guess. I’m partially right,” she teased, propping a finger up in response. Glancing down to her magazine once more, she nodded her head slowly. She supposed this was a distraction of sorts, something she could focus her mind on that wasn’t murder or the fact they would never see Dr. Gilchrist again, even though they had been expecting to that very day.

“I usually prefer a book,” she said. “But the library, it disturbs me. Always had. It’s the only room in the house that I really feel watched in.” 

The fingers of their left hand playing with the fingers of their right, Soleil gave a shrug at her words. “You’re partially right,” he agreed. Death was present in nature, they knew that. But it was easier to avoid, easier to think positively about it; the autumn was pretty despite the fact that the leaves were dying, the flowers were dying. A beautiful death was easier to take in than a murder sprung upon them.

They tilted their head at the comment she made about the library. “Why’s that?” They’re genuinely curious -- they’d always been a curious person, eager to learn more about anything that anyone is willing to tell them. The library was always a bit too unorganized for them - despite the paint that always seemed to stain their skin and their clothes, organization was something that grounded them, made them feel safe, so the library’s near-constant state of disarray tended to drive them off. But they couldn’t imagine feeling watched there. “I mean - you do not have to answer if you feel uncomfortable talking about it. I’m just curious.”

[soleilcheniere]

islaherveaux​:

Looking for something to do that would involve her being away from the weeping nerds, Isla decided to head towards the garden. She wasn’t much of a nature person, but she couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t enjoy the scents the flowers planted all around her provided her. She stopped to try and steal a rose she could use for a thirst trap later, but she was stopped when she noticed she wasn’t alone. And not only that, but she recognized her garden friend.

“I said it’s me, silly.“ Isla grinned brightly at Soleil. She couldn’t say they were friends. She didn’t really now what they were. She wanted to say acquaintances, but Isla didn’t exactly walk around telling her acquaintances about how sad her really life was. But that had happened years ago, so maybe they had forgotten all about it. “You know, if you need a model I would be more than happy to offer my services.“

They were surprised to see her. If they really thought about it, they shouldn’t have been; she was invited back just like everyone else. But they still weren’t prepared to see her, to say the least. It took them a minute to adjust and compose themselves; they didn’t want to stare, after all.

Once they did regain their composure, they gave a little chuckle, forcing a smile on their face. “Modeling for painting is much different than modeling for photography - you have to be able to sit still for... hours at a time. It requires intimate knowledge of your body, of how you pose and hold yourself...” they trail off sooner rather than later, to stop themself from rambling. “All that to say, if you think you can manage it, I would be happy to paint you.” Giving another smile, they push a hand over their hair. “It is good to see you again.”

[soleilcheniere]

aurcraa​:

After hours of crying in her room and talking to Santi, Aurora was feeling better. Nothing a splash of cool water and powder couldn’t cover – but sometimes it was like they could see through her. Cool, calm, and collected Aurora was a very good front, but a front nonetheless.

“Since we stepped into a real-life board game?” she asked, giving a lighthearted smile. “It was… Dr Gilchrist, in the den, with a knife.”

While her lighthearted response would usually ease their nerves, Soleil couldn’t help the churning feeling in their stomach. They didn’t have to acknowledge their anxieties while they were painting, but now that they were talking about them, those feelings were unavoidable. “I wish it were as simple as that.” 

Glancing around, their hands went to fiddle with their skirt, trying to find a way to get some of the nervous energy out. “Do you think it is going to... be like that? That we will all have to have alibis, of sorts? I had not even seen Dr. Gilchrist since I got back. Which is likely a very bad alibi--”

[soleilcheniere]

aurcraa​:

Aurora snuck into the garden when she saw Soleil working. Despite never being close to them during their time at school, the two bonded while living in Paris. Now, she lived vicariously through Soleil’s artistic endeavors.

“Nice,” she murmured, stepping toward them.

When they were startled a bit, she looked apologetic, covering her interruption with a coy smile. “Oh,” she said, raising her eyes from the canvas to Soleil, “I didn’t say anything. Just watching you work, like a creep.”

Seeing Aurora never failed to bring a smile to their face. It was times like these that they couldn’t believe that they didn’t interact with her much during their school days. She had always been a bright light during their time together in Paris, always a friend whenever they needed one.

“You aren’t a creep,” they promise, giving her a smile. “You are always welcome, you know that.” Leaning back to get a good look at the painting, they nod, happy with what they’ve done so far. It isn’t always satisfaction in painting, and they know this. At least today managed to give them some semblance of happiness. Turning to face her, they smooth their hands down the skirt that they’re wearing, eyes on her face. “How have you been...? I have not seen you since --... you know.”

[soleilcheniere]

geyserian​:

Venice was dressed in lounge clothing, deciding it best to bid this day over and get comfortable for the evening. Heading out with a magazine to flip through and a cigarette dangling between her fingers, she joined someone perched up with a canvas outside. 

“Nice style,” she offered a limp compliment, pulling her legs up to rest almost on her back on the bench. Her brows lifted when they asked her to repeat herself, shaking her head. “Just said it looked nice.” 

Placing a cigarette between her lips, she quickly lit it with a Zippo, clearing her throat after a drag. “Some might find it suspicious that you’re finding inspiration in a murder. Most would find someone whose muse is death a little off-putting.”

"I will accept the compliment,” they reply, setting down the brush in their hand so as not to get distracted by the call of the canvas once again. “Thank you.” They had recently broken their little cigarette habit, so they had to ignore the voice that told them to smoke another upon watching her light one. Instead, they reach for the paintbrush again, if only to fiddle with the ferrule, just to occupy their fingers.

“I would not say my muse is death. My muse is nature, it always has been. Nature is... ever-changing, but it never changes - that makes no sense. Things in this garden look the same today as they would look if... what had happened had never happened. We do not influence nature by emotion alone. Action influences nature, and no one has taken any action in defacing the garden, so... it remains as it did. That is my inspiration. And my catharsis. I understand why you may see it otherwise, though.” They know that they’re rambling, but it’s easier to ramble than to take the time that it would take to think out a more coherent reply.

“Your magazine is your distraction of sorts, yes? My painting is this for me. Better to be distracted than to linger in my own thoughts.” Even now, thinking about everything that had happened made their chest ache. How simple life would be right now if Dr. Gilchrist was still with them.

[soleilcheniere]

mattyandrews​:

Matty’s eyes glazed over the canvas quickly before looking beyond to the scene the other had been using as a muse - a soft smile on his lips as he took it all in. Nodding at the words that were extremely relatable to the artist, his love for art had quite literally started during it’s use as a therapy tool. Nowadays Matthew found it harder to turn to art as an immediate form of therapy, instead using it as a release of emotions that he has stewed on for a while. “Well there is no better way to deal with your emotions than to express them - give them an out.” 

Matty watched as Soleil cleaned themselves up, once again nodding along with the others words. “Like I said, with everything that has just happened to us I think letting it all out in whatever way we can is the only option… So far all I have done is walk in a circle so many times I think I may be verging on loosing my mind.” As their position moved, Matty adjusted too so that they were standing more face to face. “It has been too long Soleil, I do wish we were meeting each other again under better circumstances. Here I just feel…. An overwhelming sense of dread and fear of what is about to happen. Although, knowing that you are here does brighten the dark a little. I know you have just spoken about catharsis but there it is always important to ask, how are you doing?”

“I agree with that.” Soleil nodded, eyes running over the half-completed painting in front of them. It was better this way -- releasing their feelings through painting as opposed to keeping them all cooped up inside of them. The more emotions they released now, the better; hopefully, the more they painted, the less it would haunt them for the rest of their life. The questions still raced in their head, of course; was there a murderer living among them? Who would want to do something like this? Who would be implicated? How long has it been since everything happened? How did no one know? Well... they weren’t about to say that no one knew, but they certainly didn’t.

Raising their eyebrows as Matty spoke to them, Soleil’s hands fidgeted in front of them, shaking their head slightly. “I can see the benefits of pacing, but I don’t think that this would work for me; I think I would only manage to make myself dizzy. Or frustrated. All that to say, it would make things worse rather than better for me - would you like to sit down? If you have been on your feet as much as you say you have, they deserve a rest.” They gestured at a nearby bench, not moving to take it themself without his agreement. 

“I was excited to be back - Paris has its benefits, but none of the companionship that I seemed to have during our school days. Being in my old room again feels like... nostalgia. In the best sort of way. Now, though...? My head is moving so fast, I can’t keep up. There is much to consider after that meeting.” Shaking their head again, as if that would clear the thoughts, they turn their focus back to Matthew. “Tell me about your life, though - what have I missed since our last meeting?”

[soleilcheniere]

mattyandrews​:

Matthew was sure that if he had not been sat next to Isla, a body that he knew well enough to grip tightly to centre himself, when the news was broken to them he would have burst into tears. Not because he held any great emotional attachment to the man but it was the straw that broke his the emotional drained camel’s back. 

The second they had been excused Matty had made for the outdoors, the fresh air always something he turned to when he had to compose himself. It’s cleansing nature helping to calm his nerves and clear his head. The wonders of the Gilchrist Manor gardens were his favourite place even if they were entwined with some horrible memories. 

He was unsure how long he had been walking, aimlessly and alone, before he found himself looking at a very familiar back. The way in which it was at work on the canvas, the way the sunlight tinted off their hair. Matty knew recognised Soleil instantly. Their paths had managed to not cross on their first night, the amount of bodies who returned making it easier to avoid those who harboured memories with. Matthew’s heart swelling with the familiar longing as he approached. As he got closer he called out, asking what his friend was painting. 

Matty stopped at Soleil’s side, looking at the canvas. “I asked what you were painting? You know that there’s nothing I love more than listening to people talk about their art.”

Once they managed to distract themself from the canvas in front of them, they were happy to see Matthew. The two were different sides of the same coin, the same pattern cut from different cloths. It was good to see him again, to say the very least. If they closed their eyes, they could almost pretend like they were back in their university days, back before everything had changed.

But things had changed, undoubtedly. There was a sense of morbidity that had settled upon the old house - or, well, it had settled upon Soleil’s shoulders, and, surely, upon the shoulders of others around him. The gardens didn’t seem as vibrant as they had before, the sky, as it darkened, seemed to reflect the general mood within the manor. What were they supposed to do about this? After all, they’d never been in any situation even close to this before. To say that things had changed would be an understatement.

Giving Matty a smile, trying to push away their feelings of uncertainty, they gestured in front of them to the gardens and the setting sun. “I needed some way to get my mind off of everything. This seemed like the best way to do that,” they admit, reaching for a cloth to wipe their hand free of paint so as not to stain the skirt that they were wearing. “I think that this is less an expression of art and more an expression of... catharsis, of sorts.” They set their paintbrush aside, turning to face Matty more. “But I suppose catharsis and art are not so far apart. It is good to see you again, my friend.”

[soleilcheniere]

Art was always the best therapy for them. The news was distressing, to say the least; Soleil had always looked up to Dr. Gilchrist, listened to his advice -- who would want to murder an old man? Their thoughts were speeding through their head like a bullet train. That’s why they chose to distract themself in the garden, a canvas set up, blue and pink paints on a palette to work from. 

They didn’t exactly take comfort in their solitude, but they knew that everyone was coping differently; it wasn’t their place to intrude on others’ mourning processes. That’s why they were practically in their own world, unsure of how much time had passed since they set up the canvas, until someone’s voice pulled them out of their focus.

“I’m sorry - could you repeat that?” They wouldn’t admit that they were grateful for the distraction, but it was nice to have someone to talk to, even if it was a mundane conversation.

[joshhcrtnett]