[center] [color=0076a3][h1]GRACE POTTER[/h1][/color]
[img]http://orig14.deviantart.net/b7c7/f/2012/205/e/c/ashley_greene_5_png_by_debs89twilightymas-d58i8od.png[/img]

Location: Institute Grounds and basement
Interastion: everyone [/center] 
[hr]

The sun was warm against Grace's face. She was sitting against the windowsill in her room with the glass pane open, allowing the warm summer breeze to flow through. She thought about the warehouse and how she had acted a fool. She didn't understand why she had let that man get to her so much. The argument had gotten far too heated and she had ended it with yelling and Raylan throwing a chain at her. She had just closed the door when it slammed hard into the metal. 

Opening her eyes, she continued with the task she was trying to distract herself with. A sketch in a plain leather bound sketch book. She hadn't told many people that she could draw, because her work was intimate for her. She poured her soul into each sketch, charcoal etch, painting, and photo that she had tucked neatly into the book. Letting her pencil glide across the page, she traced line after line, not even thinking about what she was drawing.

Once she realized she was nearly finished, she brushed the remaining eraser shavings off the page and looked down at her work. On the page stood out two perfectly etched eyes. Strong and angry. She recognized them immediately because she had stood just inches from them a few hours ago. She groaned and ripped out the page, balling it up and shoving it in her pocket. Grace was worried because Raylan still wasn't back at the institute and she knew what the equalists could do. "Speaking of..." She looked down at her cell phone. "Shit!" It was nearly 7:45. She jumped up and slammed her window shut, heading out to the basement to meet the others, sketch in her pocket all but forgotten.

taking the steps two at a time, she rounded the corner and came to a bouncing stop when she saw that there were people in the room that she didn't recognize. Grace spotted Christie in the corner and trudged toward her. She hadn't spoken to Christie since she went thermonuclear in the warehouse. Leaning against the wall, she shoved her hands in her pockets and fiddled with the crumpled paper. Waiting patiently, she looked at Professor Latour for guidance.