I am flesh and I am bone

They'd been doing well. The world hadn't ended, five was home, the house was full- they'd celebrated. They'd danced and laughed and lived and had fun as normal families do. They reached out to one another to build a better understanding, they spoke more than they ever did in their youth without the specter of Reginald hanging overhead. It'd been light in the mansion. Full of joy. Potential. For the first time since her creation Grace could say without a shadow of a doubt, she was happy. Without a single qualifier or exception. Happy except for the things she had to endure hearing Reginald say about the children. Happy except for how she wasn't allowed to truly be happy.

She was allowed to feel, to express that feeling. She was allowed to change her appearance outside of the strictly defined aesthetics painted onto her by her creator.



And then the ghost. The specter, the threat of everything she managed to recover, to build being taken away again. Of being pared down to the bare doll of a thing she'd drifted about as just after Reginald's death. Reminded in so many ways she has a place and a purpose and it isn't what she wanted- because she isn't meant to want anything.

She's a tool. There are rules.

It means resuming the old routine. The old appearance. All the lovely clothing the children, her children helped her choose folded away in her closet, unworn. Back to the old swingdresses and pincurls, the carefully painted lips and penciled brow. Back to stiffly, mechanically baking and preparing tea at a certain hour. Back to filling the dessert case, a single deviation from the old programming, because the kids are upset. They snack more when they're upset and cookies make everything better. How many batches she's baked now- she doesn't know. She's lost count. The counter and cooler are full of pies, cakes, and pastry, sweet after sweet kneaded, shaped, baked, and dusted with sugar. Flour on her hand and apron but not a curl out of place- not a single, lilting note sung under her breath. Grace bakes in absolute silence.

Options in the comments. Thread-jacking is fine & encouraged, unless the other player doesn't want their stuff thread-jacked.

[ ooc: These are just some ideas for starters but feel free to go wild and make new ones, thread around, run into other characters at the mall who aren't part of the family...have fun ♥. For the mall, feel free to assume they all have money to spend from their inheritance and the like. ]


A) Ashes to ashes




B) New home & Shopping Mall trip

Hey, guys. Family and guests alike. I need your help with a couple things. First off, I need everyone. Each and every single one of you, to come down to my workshop. I have a project that just needs ten seconds of your time, five if you cooperate and do as I say. It's important. It's a gift for Mom.

Second: Once this is done, I need you guys to get mom out of the house so I can set this up somewhere for her to find.

I know the last part will be hard, given her protocols and everything, but do your best. This is important. It's about time mom got something nice that was just hers, right?


Thanks.

( The most important meal of the day. )

It was their first birthday since averting the apocalypse, and as far as Klaus was concerned, that meant it was time to celebrate.

Granted, there were more reasons than just that, they were alive -all of them- and they were together, and they had saved the fucking world, and he was thankful once again that Five's brilliant, stupid, all-or-nothing plan had actually worked.

Of course, actually planning a party without his siblings finding out about it was going to be tricky, but he'd enlisted Mom's help -thankful again that whatever Five had done had landed them on the morning of their father's funeral all those months ago- because there was no way he could have done this alone.

Each of the siblings staying at the house -including Klaus, as not to raise suspicions- would wake up to a small carton on their doorknob, containing a single cupcake topped with a chocolate domino mask stamped with their number, along with a heavy cotton-paper envelope with their name written on it in Grace's immaculate handwriting, which contained a single printed sheet:
Magical Birthday Masquerade
Raid your closet, raid a sibling's closet, raid the attic!
Do whatever you need to do to put together your Very Most Magical outfit.
It's time we had a party!
Costumes mandatory. Bring a +1 if you have one.
Refreshments provided.
Grand ballroom, 7pm tonight.
Also included was a map to the ballroom, just in case none of them had ever been there, because Klaus couldn't remember having been there, and Grace had had to show him where it was.

( Party tiiiiime! )

[It's another free-for-all, thread about finding a costume, thread at the party, thread about not going to the party bc you're Diego A Loner, Dottie, A Rebel. Whatever y'all, figure we all needed a good-time, low-feels post, enjoy!]

I need you to take me to the vet.

[ Guess who fed a stray and ended adopting the puppy. As much as it annoys him to ask, he needs the assistance of an adult looking person to convince the vets to vaccinate the poor dog. ]

Whatever Five had done had brought them back, all of them, even Ben, and as far as any of them could tell -mostly thanks to Grace's input- was that it was the morning of their father's funeral, it was as if the past week had simply ceased to exist, they were getting a do-over and this time without the looming threat of an apocalypse hanging over their every move.

None of them questioned it, none of them wanted to, especially given as how they had Ben back, and so they didn't, they just continued on. They didn't continue on as if nothing had changed, because they all knew that literally everything had, and while for the most part they still couldn't stand each other -with a few exceptions- they were all still staying at the house, maybe just out of habit.

But it had been a long day, and Klaus was finding that his initial assessment had been correct and he really didn't care for being sober at all, but he was trying, he wanted to do better, wanted to see just what else he might be capable of.

But right at the moment, he just needed a nap, and the last person he expected to find in his room was, well, himself.

All he had to say, all he really could say about it was: "What, the fuck."

[ooc: as discussed, a post for the Klaus Brigade to go all Ghost of Christmas Future at each other, one on one, all at once, start with one and have another fall in later bc of dimensional weirdness, whatever y'all, we'll make it work, I believe in us.]

( 1 - We're canceling the apocalypse )



( (You Give Me) Fever, In the morning child, Fever all through the night )



( Another One Bites The Dust )


( Wildcard )

They've escaped the apocalypse (her apocalypse), and whatever weirdness happened with their teenage bodies for the first few days. But escaping immediate danger hasn't truly fixed anything. Vanya hasn't said a word since waking up in the house they've taken over, somewhere upstate; she's eaten a little, drank less, and hasn't met anyone's eyes. Her violin is gone. So is the white suite, the pale skin and paler eyes, but it's the violin she misses.

And living without a ringing in her right ear. She really misses that.

Mostly, sleep has been her answer to avoiding it - avoiding everything, really, her siblings and the ringing and her fear that she's lost her hearing on the right side. It's easier to just focus on drifting off whenever she's awake, because then she won't have to remember.

It comes in flashes anyway, but she makes a damn valiant effort to avoid it.

Running only works for so long, and they don't live in a manor that takes up a full city block anymore: this is a farmhouse at best, two stories plus an attic and a cramped basement. They don't all have space for their own rooms, but Vanya - always apart, even now - does. And when she emerges from it, she does so mostly in the dead of night, the better to avoid the others. When she comes out in mid day, blinking in the sunlight that streams through, it's only because she couldn't ignore her growling stomach anymore. It smells like someone is making bacon.