#matriarclair

[2ndaughter]

﹙ *  ♚  ﹚▌▌ it shouldn't be difficult to pick up the phone. it should be just as simple as any other conversation, like discussing something as mundane as the weather. ( is it raining on beechwood? because it's raining in burlington ... oh, by the way, mom: sam and i, yeah, we're getting a divorce— but don't worry i was already thinking about replacing the china his parents bought us for a poor excuse of a wedding gift— ) but where penny feels nothing in regards to sam leaving, she feels everything about people knowing of his departure. it's an admission of failure at best. not her favourite look by any means. at worst, though ... at worst: it's an invitation for questions, AND THEIR ANSWERS MIGHT NOT BE MIRROR IMAGES. as the phone rings, she swears each one laughs at her. maybe it's better if tipper doesn't answer. maybe there is still a little luck— ❝   hi, mom.   ❞ tonally, she's all performance, but fuck she could've used a dress rehearsal. fear of the imperfection she's about to admit threatens to claw up her throat and create cracks in her voice where she should otherwise keep a stiff upper lip. ❝   do you have a minute or am i interrupting something?   ❞ the least she can do is be a credit by asking first.

TIPPER SINCLAIR , sc. @matriarclair

[0lderladies]

fingers grip to free the golden key out of dead-bolt, undoubtedly struggling due to the worn condition of hardware. three post-it notes had been left on the desk as reminder to replace - but yet, there she stood, looking like an idiot losing tug-of-war to an inanimate object. aha! smirking as key freed after a few moments. visual indication that the gallery was finally secured and shift had concluded. the meeting to acquire several installments from the latest round of residents from vineyard arts project had been successful. hopefully, earning extra points on the lingering capstone project and sealing the deal on the internship awarded after graduation.

she is about to walk towards the marina when the sound of a familiar laugh echoed through the salty air — it was distinct, unique, and margo knew exactly who it was before turning around for visual verification. dark sunglasses allow her to fixate on target inconspicuously while walking towards the group of women who were enjoying all that edgartown had to offer in the summer heat.

“tipper?” she asks knowingly with smirk, hand extended upward to waive at some of the other women whom she had met before.

@matriarclair

[1stliar]

Tipper always taught her to be strong. Shoulders back and carry your head high no matter the situation. Never let anyone witness your sadness, despair, anger or grief. They would always be used as weapons against you. [ IT WAS BETTER TO PERSERVERE THAN TO SHOW WEAKNESS. ] Cadence didn't understand it for the longest time as she felt emotions is what made us human. Sometimes the Sinclair way did not make enough sense. Considering the fairytales the family concocted to free them of whatever guilt they've accumulated over the years, no wonder it was so easy for American Royalty to do so. In moments like these, though, the fairytales is what helped Cadence survive. [ BECAUSE EXPERIENCING A FATHERS HEARTBREAK WAS DEADLY. ] ❝ He didn't even have the decency to tell me until he was basically driving off with that trollop. ❞ The light that normally radiates around Cadence had depleted and she tried to be the girl everyone was so familiar with. It was hard when it felt like the rug was swept underneath her. Life felt like it was crumbling down and there was no stopping it. ❝ I've never felt so humiliated. ❞

@matriarclair

[1stliar]

❝ Do I have to? ❞ There was an uneasiness to the feeling. Le Bail Gambit assisted with their rise in fortune. The Sinclair family was naturally successful but there was a time where times were rough and they needed assistance. The family looked for help and Mr. Le Bail was their saving grace.

BUT IT CAME AT A COST OF THEIR SOULS. THEY WERE NOT ONLY AT HIS BECK AND CALL, BUT HIS MERCY.

Golden blonde hair fell naturally on her shoulders. The ocean air of Beechwood Island coated her scents. The sunset was so beautiful. She loved this life, loved the summer time with the Liars and her family. This was everything that she imagined. Her family managed to keep her shielded from the deeds of the game. Yet, it was the year she was finally old enough to play. They were summoned to play randomly. She heard the games can be violent, the sacrifices were intense alone and often closed her eyes and felt immoral.

THIS ENTIRE EXPERIENCE MADE CADENCE SINCLAIR EASTMAN DESPERATELY ILL.

❝ Can't I just have another year? I don't think I'm ready for the game. ❞

@matriarclair , ready or not !

[1stliar]

It was the first day of Spring. The butterflies were in the air, birds could be heard chirping, flowers had began to blossom, and one more day closer to a Beechwood summer. Returning to the states for Easter Holiday, finally escaping the boarding school and parental relatives. * IT WAS TIME FOR A SPRING AND SINCLAIR CLEANSE ! Of course she could stay in the newly remodeled Burlington house, but it was now tainted with false and horrible memories of what life used to be. ❝ You and me, girls day? ❞ Legs cross over one another as she stood in the entryway of the Boston kitchen with purse in her hand. The newest Spring collection of Kate Spade bag was only filled with lip gloss, a mirror, brush, ID, credit and debit cards. It may be her idea to get out of the house but Grandads Amex card funding their splurge. [ NOTHING EXISTED QUITE LIKE BEING A GRANDPARENTS GIRL. ] ❝ My treat since you're the best hostess and Gran that has ever graced this entire planet. ❞ Cadence was being sincere, truly, but she emphasized a British accent to dramatize the flare.

❝ Nan doesn't even compare to your Yankee charm. ❞

@matriarclair ❦ * starter !

[1stliar]

Gran can't be here.      [ SHE'S DEAD. ]      You mourned her, missed her, became unbelievably lost without her over the years. Beechwood was no longer the same since the fire. The Liars were gone, Tipper was gone, Clairmont was gone.     [ THEIR PARADISE WAS DIMINISHED AND SHE LIVED TO FACE THE CONSEQUENCES. ]     The only thing that remained in it's constant was the garden that was cared for by the former matriarch. It persisted even in the midst of the chaos as it will for future generations. It became her place of solitude over the years during the summer when she visited. It took time after regaining her memories during summer 17 to come back. Now, Cadence Taft Sinclair Eastman, who was twenty-three, lived a different life. Heir to the Sinclair fortune and the press that her Grandfather worked his entire life building and expanding. Being involved in philanthropy and social causes.     [ FOR ONCE, BEING A PROPER CREDIT TO THE FAMILY. ]     Interesting, it was something she once momentarily hated but now cherished.

The voice was easily recognizable and her thoughts gathered again. A wave of sadness hit and a tear fell down her cheek, regret that she lives with coming up once again.     [ WHY NOW SHOW UP? ]     ❝ Gran, I didn't   —   I didn't mean   ... ❞     Words couldn't even be mustered up. Shame hit her like a brike wall as she thinks of all the memories that became ash with the burning of Clairmont.     ❝ Everything is gone because of me. ❞     There was a pause, a tilt in her head before Cadence continued,     ❝ The Liars are dead because of me. ❞     She clutches the Black Pearls that cling to her neck, worn in moments when needing guidance and support.     [ COULD THIS BE WHY SHE'S HERE? ]     After all, the anniversary of the fire was approaching.     ❝ If I'm not the villain, then who is? ❞

“ You weren’t the villain - you were just cruel with good intentions. ” , @matriarclair

[2ndaughter]

﹙ *  ♚  ﹚▌▌ the morning sun rises again, and so does penny— RENEWED. everybody caters to some form of their own ruination. this is what she tells herself anyway. after all, all ailments can be cured by salt air and outdoor exercise. ailments, however, is subjective. it's supposed to bring about thoughts of disease or illness, a scraped knee or a heart's loneliness. everything and anything but two warm bodies cocooned in a bed or the feel of a woman's hands at her waistline while they sip coffee in a large bay window's view with only thirty aces of land beyond them as witnesses. but that's, that's how penny likes it ... AND HOW SHE PLANS TO CURE IT TOO. see, the salt air will come in approximately six weeks when cady's summer 10 arrives with no gentle reminder of her OWN double digits on beechwood. but outdoor exercise?

the outdoor exercise she can do now. well, well, well: it looks like the new workout set she purchased from grace&co and her tried and true pair of puma's will have their work cut out for them if she's going to settle these ailments before the summer. there's not a second to be wasted, penny thinks, as she lets herself soundlessly in the front door. as if she never left at all. had nowhere to go and nobody to see, & nobody would know it either ...

GETTING AWAY WITH SNEAKING OUT OF HER OWN HAIR? ( oh, penny, what a thrill! )

penny moves quietly through the house & into the kitchen, with a subconscious grin ( and vaguely unkempt hair ) —UNTIL SHE LOCKS EYES WITH HER MOTHER. it takes only a second to refine her expression into nothing other than gentle surprise to see her rather than a guilty contortion of shock. ❝   good morning, mother. you're up early.   ❞ not: i didn't know you'd be awake. no, that would be a in less words, an admission; culpability in her own name.

. . . @matriarclair ,

[red-gate]

Life changed after summer seventeen. The events that happened on Beechwood Island changed her and the dynamic within the family. There was a sense of despair, disappointment and loss that Carrie could not overcome. She was a murderer. That changes a person and It caused her to spiral in ways unimaginable. Diving into whatever drugs she could get her hand, meaningless sex, alcoholic tendencies is what fueled her existence. She could not let her parents nor sisters witness this. Running away at eighteen was the solution to escape this prison. It was painful but necessary.

Two years had passed since her departure. During the time, Carrie moved out of the city, changed her number, dropped out of college and began a jewelry line. She also continued these destructive behaviors where some days even she did not know if she would survive. Aunt Margo required monthly check - ins after the first year. It was the only way to keep the family out of her business. Carrie kept herself far, unaware of the lives her parents and sisters were living. It was easier than knowing as she felt extreme guilt for being away. Carrie missed the family but breaking away from the drugs was harder.

Her first rehab ( Carrie didn’t know it would be the first of many ) and it was time for summer. Beechwood Island was stressful, memories she was not sure she was ready to face. Yet, this was their life. It was home and both foreign and familiar. Carrie was not sure what to expect with her unexpected return. She missed the smell of the salty air, her family and most importantly, her old life. Carrie knocks lightly on Clairmont’s door. She wasn’t sure what or even who to expect to open the door but when it was her mother, Carrie’s heart sank for a moment.

In the two years Carrie was gone, her mother had aged. She looked together but tired and sad. It was breaking her heart. “ Hi. ” There was a crack in her voice. It was a little deeper, matured and raspy. Maybe it was the age of drugs that changed Carrie but never did she think of the impact it would have on others. Her past behaviors were selfish and now she lives in agony and resentment. “ Hi, mom. ” It slipped off so easily as if it were the first time she ever said it. How she missed this.

@matriarclair