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rainbowfic2021-03-12 09:44 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2021-03-12 09:44 pm
Colour of the Day (12/03/2021), Ecru #10 [Divide & Rule]
Name: Art By Stealth
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Colour of the Day 12/03/2021 (avant-garde); Ecru #10 (equate)
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (for March Challenge to write for CotD) + Canvas + Pastels (also forallbingo square “Aster – Daintiness”).
Word Count: 500
Rating: G
Warnings:
Notes: 1889; Julia Portland Graves, Christopher Graves. (Not Julia, but her paternal grandparents – she and her brother Christy were named after them.) It was so exciting to be able to do a CotD!! ♥
Summary: Julia’s engaged in a strange kind of war, but the odds aren’t in her favour.
***
Julia stands back to survey the framed print; her latest effort at bringing modernity to the resistant mid-century house, firmly rooted in the reds and greens and browns of the previous generation of Graveses. The morning room is her own particular place, though, and at least its cabbage roses bloom in lighter shades of green and cream and bronze. She has flowers in a vase – real roses from the garden, not too sorry-looking, and asters Christopher gave her, even though he doesn’t care for such things.
An avenue of trees beckon her into the new picture, all the way to Chantilly, if the name is true. She smiles, and dismisses the maid with her hammer and nail.
Christopher must have heard the movement and voices, for he now crosses the hallway and peers in past her. There’s a familiar dubious twist to his mouth when his eye lights on the copy. Untried, novel ideas on the walls of the Graves house; how dreadful. Whatever next?
“Do you like it?”
She nods.
“Ah, well,” he says, and the lines ease out of his face, as her pleasure becomes his excuse for letting such frivolity pass. “If it makes you happy, my dear.”
Julia laughs and moves lightly across to kiss him on the cheek.
“Of course,” he adds, more stiffly, “house matters are your affair, I know. That is only right. You must have it as you please – don’t ever think otherwise.” He pats her shoulder before she pulls away.
Julia smiles and agrees, but she knows his house will never be as she pleases. It is too full of its own solid Graves-osity; it was built to last and will outlive her. Her husband’s family invested only in good quality when they fitted it out. She cannot argue against the equations of economy and common sense that it would be a shame to remove such a well-wearing carpet or solid mahogany bureau, or to replace good plastering and expensive embossed paper on a whim.
She contents herself with odd items in any room she may, making tiny in-roads into enemy territory that will be turned aside again at the first breakage by Harold or Ann. They are hand-crafted touches of her own choosing – the small table in the drawing room with its legs carved in organic, curling lines, like the branches it was made from. She will have Ann’s bedroom covered in William Morris paper later on, and cover the sofa cushions with the colours of today, and in the morning room, she will have all the art prints she can find, no matter how shockingly modern they might be. She will have leaves and flowers, light and nature where she can, even if only in still life.
But she can add up accounts well enough to know the odds are against her. Just as the city will smother everything in smog and blackened rain and blight the roses in the garden, the house will always win in the end.
***
Oh, and mod, Colour of the Day needs its own Colour tag! Thank you. XD
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Colour of the Day 12/03/2021 (avant-garde); Ecru #10 (equate)
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (for March Challenge to write for CotD) + Canvas + Pastels (also for
allbingo square “Aster – Daintiness”).Word Count: 500
Rating: G
Warnings:
Notes: 1889; Julia Portland Graves, Christopher Graves. (Not Julia, but her paternal grandparents – she and her brother Christy were named after them.) It was so exciting to be able to do a CotD!! ♥
Summary: Julia’s engaged in a strange kind of war, but the odds aren’t in her favour.
***
Julia stands back to survey the framed print; her latest effort at bringing modernity to the resistant mid-century house, firmly rooted in the reds and greens and browns of the previous generation of Graveses. The morning room is her own particular place, though, and at least its cabbage roses bloom in lighter shades of green and cream and bronze. She has flowers in a vase – real roses from the garden, not too sorry-looking, and asters Christopher gave her, even though he doesn’t care for such things.
An avenue of trees beckon her into the new picture, all the way to Chantilly, if the name is true. She smiles, and dismisses the maid with her hammer and nail.
Christopher must have heard the movement and voices, for he now crosses the hallway and peers in past her. There’s a familiar dubious twist to his mouth when his eye lights on the copy. Untried, novel ideas on the walls of the Graves house; how dreadful. Whatever next?
“Do you like it?”
She nods.
“Ah, well,” he says, and the lines ease out of his face, as her pleasure becomes his excuse for letting such frivolity pass. “If it makes you happy, my dear.”
Julia laughs and moves lightly across to kiss him on the cheek.
“Of course,” he adds, more stiffly, “house matters are your affair, I know. That is only right. You must have it as you please – don’t ever think otherwise.” He pats her shoulder before she pulls away.
Julia smiles and agrees, but she knows his house will never be as she pleases. It is too full of its own solid Graves-osity; it was built to last and will outlive her. Her husband’s family invested only in good quality when they fitted it out. She cannot argue against the equations of economy and common sense that it would be a shame to remove such a well-wearing carpet or solid mahogany bureau, or to replace good plastering and expensive embossed paper on a whim.
She contents herself with odd items in any room she may, making tiny in-roads into enemy territory that will be turned aside again at the first breakage by Harold or Ann. They are hand-crafted touches of her own choosing – the small table in the drawing room with its legs carved in organic, curling lines, like the branches it was made from. She will have Ann’s bedroom covered in William Morris paper later on, and cover the sofa cushions with the colours of today, and in the morning room, she will have all the art prints she can find, no matter how shockingly modern they might be. She will have leaves and flowers, light and nature where she can, even if only in still life.
But she can add up accounts well enough to know the odds are against her. Just as the city will smother everything in smog and blackened rain and blight the roses in the garden, the house will always win in the end.
***
Oh, and mod, Colour of the Day needs its own Colour tag! Thank you. XD
no subject
The tag was added and you've earned one novelty bead! Here it is:
1. https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/2b/09/45/2b0945cae7bb107b5041c1bb39027e65.jpg
no subject