psl; [the healing process]

[animalqueen]

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF ELLE GRAYSON is generally a normal one, with enough variety sprinkled in throughout the week to prevent it from becoming a deadly dull routine. She lives in a flat in London, a charming little one bedroom and two bath, not particularly large, but cozy. It’s a strange fusion of modern and old fashioned, a dichotomy that reflects her own personality quite well.

Every morning, she wakes up and makes a cup of strong coffee. (Black, no sugar.) Her cat, a grey, long-haired, grumpy looking thing, lazes on her bed for longer than she does, only trotting out when he’s ready to be fed. His name is Paladin Leeroy. Sometimes she just calls him Lee.

When coffee and breakfast are a thing of the past, Elle usually hears chirping on her balcony, a structure small but laden with potted plants. She will open the doors, and sometimes, if she’s in a particularly energized mood, will announce, “Your Queen has arrived! Court will now be held,” and the little sparrows will chirp at her, and line up in a row. She’ll feed them birdseed, or bread, if she’s run out. Later, Leeroy will bound out, but she always tells him to leave the birds alone until they’re done eating. He listens. They always fly away before he gets a chance to do any real harm.

Lately, she’s been working part-time at an advertising agency, writing and tweaking copy that slides across her desk. It isn’t the most fulfilling job, but it pays the bills, and that’s what matters. Her real work is her own writing; freelancing for various websites, and poking and prodding at the idea for a book, slowly trying to force life into the narrative. Sometimes inspiration strikes her, and she sits and writes for hours at a time, until her eyes begin to strain, and she has to stop. Other times, she grows tired and can’t seem to string words together at all, and her word document looks a bit like this:

And then stuff happened. Everyone died tragically but it was fine, because it was thematically appropriate to the narrative.

ugh ugh you suck

That always gets deleted at the end, of course.

Crammed in the corner of the living area is an upright piano, white and well-used. Sheet music sits scattered on its stand, and an acoustic guitar rests on the floor next to it. There’s a television, of course, a flat-screen that looks larger than it actually is in her apartment. Connected to it is a Playstation 2, a blu ray player, and little else. On the shelves above, there are books — so many books. Mostly horror and old classics; copies of Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice look particularly worn.

The shelf next to it is stocked with board games. Tabletop and family ones, alike. One in particular is even out of its spot, instead spread out on the little glass coffee table. It looks as if a campaign hasn’t been started yet, though someone’s been flipping through the manual quite recently. Maybe quite frequently.

Her bedroom is small, but the bed is large and roomy. There are pictures of friends and family on the bookshelves in here, and a few on her nightstand. Beyond that, she keeps this part of the flat a little messier than the rest.

GENERALLY, SHE LIVES A RELATIVELY NORMAL LIFE, quiet and cozy. Sometimes living by herself is a bit lonely, and the time difference means that she cannot call her mom and step-dad any time she likes just to hear their voices. But like all things, these emotions pass like any other. Perhaps the only real oddity in her life are the strange surprises she sometimes finds on her balcony. There were a family of raccoons once. A possum. A falcon, who looked lost and confused when she opened the door, turning its head at her, blinking. There were even rats, but they only sniffed the air in her direction, and did little else.

Elle Grayson is just a normal 26 year-old, with a magnetism or two that might be considered abnormal. Perhaps that’s the extent of the oddities in her life. Perhaps this is all she could ever really wish for.

Perhaps she’ll be proven wrong, sooner rather than later.

----------

D I R E C T O R Y;

➤ a reunion
➤ a cat
➤ a novel
➤ an outing
➤ a resolution
➤ a sickness
➤ a home
➤ a boyfriend
➤ a horror

Comments

[animalqueen]

[Sometimes, Elle is too lost in her own little world to notice anything substantial happening around her. Or in this case, directly behind her.

She's too busy scolding a couple of sparrows that have flown in (through the broken balcony windows, courtesy of Corvus) and have decided to settle in her Christmas tree.]

Hey, who said you could come in here?

[Though note how she doesn't tell them to leave, not just yet.]

Ugh, you're making needles fall off the tree...

[Good thing the broom is nearby, leaning against the wall from having being used earlier in the day. She grabs it and starts sweeping, and keeps talking to them.]

What kind of Queen is supposed to clean up after her servants? Sheesh.

[coalheart]

[So you're an incomprehensible being in the form of a bird or man. Right now, you are a naked bloodied, injured man who basically crashed into the house of a young woman living by herself. What would you do audience?

Assume the corpse position.

... And honestly, there's not much Corvus CAN do. Everything hurts. And he knows, there's a stigma against human nudity (honestly, this is why feathers were better) so exposing himself now to the girl would be disastrous.

... He better prepare himself at any rate. Stillness and quiet it is.]

[animalqueen]

[Honestly, Elle would have been oblivious for who knows how long, if not for her cat Leeroy, who starts growling again from across the room, back arched up, and slowly retreating to the safety of a bookshelf.

Elle stops sweeping and squints at him.]

What's your problem now? You've been moody all day...

[Leeroy keeps growling, low and unwavering, eyes settled on stranger on the couch. Elle turns to see what he's going on about-

And sees a Very Naked Man sitting quietly on her couch.

Naturally, she screams in shock, and it's out of pure defensive instinct that she swings the broom around to hit the stranger with the stick of it. It's long enough to connect; her tree is practically right next to where he's seated.

The sparrows panic and fly around the room, as if the illustrate the sudden spike in emotion. Leeroy hisses. The Christmas tree leans over, being hit with the other end of the broom in her haste.]

What the hell-?!

[coalheart]

... Ow.

[This is only said after getting with the broom and having the Christmas tree in his face. Talk about a delayed reaction. Corvus lets the noise settle down around him before he interjects to make his case.]




I'm injured.

[THAT'S NOT THE ONLY ISSUE HERE??? But being nude doesn't seem to bother him. He finally gets a good view of Elle and he blinks once. Twice.

Points at her.]

Champagne girl.

[animalqueen]

[Okay, a plain "ow" is not what she was going for. What kind of reaction was that? Who the hell was this guy--]

You're not-- you're naked! Who are you and how the hell did you get in here?!

[Wait a second. Champagne girl? No, there's no way.

The Christmas tree is getting in the way of everything, and she grabs it by a branch or two, lifting it up to see the man's face more clearly. Ornaments clatter to the ground as she does so, but she doesn't seem to notice or care.

She knows that face. She'd have a very hard time forgetting it after the first impression he made.]

Corvus?

[coalheart]

[... His finger silently switches position to point at the window.]

Last night. Through there.

I was here the whole time you know.

[C'mon, can't she figure it out? He winces and drops his hand to his side.]

Didn't know this was your place. Not lying about that.

[animalqueen]

[Corvus, your explanations aren't helping. The sparrows flying around her house decide to perch on a bookshelf nearby, as if curiously overseeing the situation.]

Wait... what? [She shakes her head, waving her free hand dismissively. The other still clutches at the tree.] No... no, start over. You came in through my balcony?

[God... suddenly she remembers his weird association with the crows that night.] Did you have something to do with that giant crow landing on my couch? That's not funny, you know! I have to pay to get my windows fixed!

[The question of why he's naked and why he's injured surely will come next, but she wants to make sure she gets this point across.]

[coalheart]

...

...

...

I AM the crow.

[Yes, please sound more crazy Corvus.]

I crashed through the window as a bird. I rested on your couch the whole night.

What part of that doesn't make sense?

[UMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM]

[animalqueen]

[UUUUUUUUM ALL OF IT????????

/INTERNALLY SCEAMING]











You really are a crazy hobo man.

[coalheart]

Do you have band-aids? [He points to the wound on his thigh.]

[animalqueen]

I...

[Why do you keep changing the subject, crow hobo.

She tells herself to breathe. Calm down. He's harmless, right? Naked, but harmless. So very, very naked. (She does feel a lingering concern for the crow that was here, though. Did he startle it and it fly away?)]

I... yeah. I do. [Now that she's looking at him more closely, though, those injuries... they look pretty painful. He's bruised up pretty badly, along with the thigh wound.]

What happened to you?

[coalheart]

[Because trying to reason with Elle doesn't seem to go anywhere (no Corvus, that's just you being the worst at everything). He looks at the floor staring at his feet when she asks that question.

... Well, he can answer as best as he can. In the way he sees fit.]

I got beaten up with a stick.

[Oh.]

[animalqueen]

You what?

[She looks at him in concern and confusion.]

Who the fu- [She stops herself. She needs to work on her language, really.] -uuuh. Who the heck beat you up with a stick? Why?

[Worry starts creeping in for this man. What kind of life is he living?]

[coalheart]

[He can hear the worry in her voice. This woman really didn't hide how she feel did she? It was awkward in a way, but Corvus appreciates the honesty. He honestly could not blame her for how she was feeling even if he doesn't understand all of his mistakes.

That being said, he can't afford to explain his circumstances. He needs to heal.]

... It's cold.

[... An he needs clothes.]

[animalqueen]

You really need to stop changing the subject. It's not helping.

[But yes, she's worried. And he has a point, too. It'd probably be less awkward if they spoke when he wasn't butt naked, either.]

I have a closet full of women's clothing, though, I don't have-

[She pauses, remembering something. No, she did still have some of James' old clothes here, from a long time ago. She never knew what to do with them; they weren't hers, she didn't feel right just throwing them out. But at the same time, how weird would it be for her to hunt down James just to give him his clothes back?

Maybe they'll get some use now. They look like they might fit Corvus, or at least, they will in a pinch until he finds something more suited for him.]

Wait here.

[She disappears into her bedroom, then comes out less than a minute later. She tosses the clothes at him -- a full set. They're expensive, too.]

Let me know when you're done dressing.

[And whoop, she closes the door to her bedroom, disappearing behind it.]

[coalheart]

[... Well. Okay.

Corvus sits there doing nothing for a moment. The clothes flop onto his lap and he holds them up to examine them. He narrows his eyes. This scent...

...

...

He's not petty however. He slips on a dark button up top, and dark pants. He calls to Elle over his shoulder.]

Decent.

[animalqueen]

[She comes out when she hears him, giving him a once over now that he's dressed. Not bad. They fit decently enough, and as she noted when she first saw him at the party, dark hues suit him pretty well. (Byronic hero and all that. Well. Not so much anymore.)]

They look good on you. Here. [She walks forward, holding out a couple of bandaids a bit awkwardly as she approaches. Also some cotton swabs and rubbing alcohol.]

Probably should have done this before you dressed, but if you need to go into the bathroom to clean up, too, feel free. Disinfect your wounds and all that.

[She really doesn't know what to think of Corvus. She doesn't believe for a minute that he's an actual bird man like he says; what is she, eight? (It'd be kind of cool, though.) But maybe she believes that he believes it.]

Are you going to need a ride home or anything?

[coalheart]

[A ride... Ah.

He takes the band-aids, cotton swabs, and alcohol looking at them carefully. Corvus doesn't use these items that often so he tend to forget how to apply them. He seems to figure it out though and sits on the couch to roll up one pant leg and get to work on that thigh wound.

As for Elle's question, he shakes his head.]

When I get better, I'll fly away.

[animalqueen]

[She watches him, brow raising.]

Right. Okay. Fly away.

[Whatever dude.]

But I can take you home now; do you live around here?

[coalheart]

No.

[He grimaces when he dabs at his wounds with the cotton swab that's soaked with alcohol. Is this how it works... Well, it's cleaning up the dried crusty blood around his thigh at any rate.]

I don't have a home.

[animalqueen]

[She frowns at that admission, watching him clean his wounds a bit awkwardly.

She had asked earlier, somewhat satirically calling him a hobo; and way to go, now she feels bad about it. Was he really homeless?]

Here, let me help you with that.

[She crouches down, holding out a hand for the first aid supplies she just gave him.]

Is there someone we can call? Someone you know that'll let you crash at their place?

[coalheart]

[Corvus frowns slightly, but he concedes and lets Elle take the supplies. He has to shake his head again, another no, another confirmation that he doesn't have anything and anyone.]

No. Not like that.

[A beat.]

Sleeping outside isn't disagreeable. Winter makes it harder, but I'd manage.

[animalqueen]

[Taking the supplies from him, she immediately looks up at Corvus and frowns, as if he's just said the most ridiculous thing ever.]

What? No. It's literally below freezing every night. You can't just-

[She sighs, shaking her head, then takes a clean cotton swab and uses the rubbing alcohol to wipe away any dried blood first. Her touch is light but direct.]

-sleep outside. I won't let you.

[Saying that like she has a real say in the matter.]

You said you would... "fly away" once you feel better? Then, I guess, just stay here until you recover. [A quick addendum:] As long you promise not to be a creep.

[She's sticking her neck out there, Corvus, just to be nice. Please don't be a psycho.]

[coalheart]

[Corvus watches her carefully wipe away his blood, as if seeing if there's going to be any sudden attack. He's absolutely still like a statue. When she tells him that he isn't going to sleep outside, he blinks. Once. Twice.]

... I'm often unsettling whether I intend to be or not.

[... Is he trying to explain himself? Kind of? It comes up after she asks him not to be a creep.]

But I won't touch you. If you're letting me stay I won't do anything.

[animalqueen]

[She furrows her brow, but is too focused on cleaning his wound that she doesn't look up at him again just yet. She can tell that he's standing utterly still, regardless.

I'm often unsettling whether I intend to be or not.

Well, that's reassuring, she thinks to himself. His last remark, though, gives her some pause before she responds.]

You could have worded that in a more reassuring way, but at least you don't mince your words. You can stay, but you're really going to have to start answering some questions, you know.

[(She will definitely be locking her door for awhile, though, while she's sleeping...)

Elle finishes patching up his wound with the band-aid, leaning back when she's done.]

Good as new.