lituplikeaghost: (Oh Father)
"We're here," June announces as they wind around a corner to the cabin she has all to herself, bought and paid for by their father, of course, who allowed her the cabin to herself on the condition that she attend the festival in the first place. She opens the door to reveal one of the premium cabins, of course; no one would dare set up a Thornton in anything less than luxury.

On the first floor lies a lounge and kitchen, currently littered with various pieces of luggage and clothes strewn about the room. June directs Fabrice to one of the couches, gesturing for both him and Demetri to sit. She then quickly leaps up the stairs to where her bedroom resides, quickly pulling on an older t-shirt and pair of shorts before coming back down. She heads to the kitchen and pulls out a pitcher of raspberry iced tea, pouring all three of them glasses before grabbing a bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries and making her way back to the living area. She promptly bestows the food and drinks on the coffee table before settling into the arm chair just across from Fabrice and Demetri. Fabrice sits with his knees tucked under his arms, his face downcast as though he wished for the couch to swallow him whole. June feels slightly guilty for it.

"Now," she says, sipping from her drink. "Dear big brother, please, let us talk."
lituplikeaghost: (Oh Father)
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.]

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June Grace Thornton

May 2023

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