"Hello, you've reached Junebug Thornton. I am most likely making love to one of my brothers' many attractive friends, with great passion and lots of complaints from the neighbors. Barring that, I'm skinny dipping on the beach, or stuffing my face with ice cream. Please leave a message after the tone. Merci, and have a wonderful day!"

Use this post for any phone/text/regular mail messages for June Thornton.

June Thornton returns to Siren Cove not with a bang, but rather a whimper. Much like she left the town a few weeks prior, she glides back onto her father's estate without a word to anyone, not even her own brothers. Her former companion, one professor of art history, now works at a more prestigious university, one many hours away from Siren Cove. June misses him, but she isn't heartbroken; they'd both known it was only to be a brief, summer fling. She's more sad that her father bullied another person away from her life, but that, too, is a thought for another time.

Now, June is in line at the Quill, debating on a salad or a plate of chicken wings. She's not necessarily hungry; she's trying to get back into the swing of things, especially with her plan now set in motion.

For anyone glancing at her, they almost wouldn't recognize her; gone are her usual, vibrant skirts and tops, replaced with a very conservative, almost matronly, magenta dress that falls just below her knees. Her hair, she wears in a bun, several strands purposely loose to frame her face in a feminine way. Her make-up is subdued, kept minimal. She wears heels that pinch her ankles and almost make her lose her composure.

Anyone looking at June would take her for a politician's wife. Which is, of course, what she wants them to think.

Beneath the subdued exterior, June herself feels the lick of flames burning in her heart. Anger, guilt, and grief simmer beneath her mask, waiting for the right moment to come pouring out.

"One unsweetened ice tea with honey, please," she tells the cashier at last.

June understands the importance of charity and giving back to others, especially those less fortunate than herself. Really, she does. She just prefers charities that involve the beach, somehow, or a fancy gathering involving beautiful dinners and equally beautiful people in attendance.

Volunteering for the Girl Scouts at a summer camp out in the boonies of southern Maine is the absolute last item on the bottom of June's list of preferred charity ideas. So when her father surprised her by volunteering her for the job, all she could do was gape, pout, and reluctantly go along when he made clear that her only other option was to spend the weekend with one of his recently widowed good friends. She still blanches at the thought.

So now, one June Grace Thornton, darling daughter of one of the oldest families in town, waits on a bench at the bus station, swatting desperately at the numerous bug bites littering the skin of her neck and arms, on top of the sun burn already forming there. Her hair is matted, thrown loosely up in a bun to disguise the poor work of the terrible camp showers. She's wearing shorts and an old t-shirt of her mothers, and she's about seconds away from stamping her foot and/or kicking something at someone.

As it stands, she currently sits with her arms across her chest, waiting for some dumbass man lead by the pull of his libido more than his actual mind to pass her and buy her a drink so she can at least get buzzed on top of her lack of dignity.

[Poor pampered princess had a rough weekend in the woods, feel free to find on her the bus looking and acting ridiculous. Open to all, though I'll be slow to tag until after work today. I just wanted to get this post up, first.]

When June first gets the news her brother is returned, she's out riding Lady around the tracks in their massive backyard, guiding her over jumps and obstacle courses like she's still sixteen with dreams of making Nationals. She grins as the wind whips through her hair, as though she were flying. As Lady's hooves pound into the ground, June feels the troubled thoughts haunting her for the past week leave her, almost as though she weren't an upperclass brat from a uptight family built on secrets and lies.

"Miss June?" Violet, one of the servants, calls to her from behind the fence. June tugs on Lady's reigns, brings her to a light trot over to the other woman.

"Does my father want to see me, again?" She asks, keeping the resignation and dread in her voice to a bare minimum. Violet thankfully ignores it.

"Not quite," she says, and that's when June notices the look on her face, one of mixed relief, joy, and tension. June hardly dares hope, but. "Your brother's returned!"

June doesn't say anything else, riding Lady all the way to the stables before jumping off and handing her to the nearest stable hand, something she never does, preferring to care for her horse herself but. Well, this is a special occasion.

She barely registers making it to her room, throwing on a pair of gently worn designer jeans and a peasant's blouse handcrafted for her specifically at one of the fashion shows and some old sneakers. She hurriedly runs a comb through her hair before grabbing her purse and bolting out the door as though she were a horse herself.

Before she knows it, she's driving her Jaguar into town, quickly pulling in to her desired destination, the parking lot of the Quill. She slams the door shut as she bursts through the doors, grateful to find only a few people in line.

When it gets to be her turn to order, June is fast to reply.

"Yes, hi, um. I need two large coffees, black, a medium vanilla chai, and literally, the largest amount of chili fries and chicken tenders you can legally sell me."

NAME: June Grace Thornton
AGE: 19
BACKGROUND/HISTORY: June Grace Thornton is the youngest child of the Thorntons and the only daughter. Her mother died shortly after giving birth to her, so June never knew her. The youngest girl in a family of boys, June has always been doted upon her older brothers, who all helped raise her in spite of her mother’s absence. As a Thornton, June grew up in a world of wealth and privilege, with the added bonus of her doting brothers and the begrudging affections of her father, who sometimes treats her more like a trophy than an actual daughter.

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