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]

[She's surprised that he remembers her name; her first impression of him dictated that he wouldn't -- she would have bet money on it. Apparently, she would have lost.

She almost drops a cereal box she was taking out, losing focus. She catches it before it falls, and the box rustles.]

Er... wow. I'm impressed. That's right, you remembered. It's Gabrielle, actually, but no one calls me that.

[And actually... you know what? She's remembering something. She puts the cereal back in the pantry and closes the door, and instead moves towards the counter, where a small white box is. Picking it up, she brings it over to where Corvus is seated. She decides to sit on the arm of the couch for now.]

Here. They had these at that engagement party you crashed, and I got it in my head to buy some when I went grocery shopping.

[She takes out a little strawberry macaron from the box, and places it in front of him.]

[coalheart]

Why not? [Gabrielle sounds fine to him. But ah, a pink thing...]

...

[His cat paw reaches out to pat the pink macaron. And then he pulls it towards him and starts nibbling on it. Because he's a cat, it's probably more adorable than it's supposed to be even though he's technically an abomination.

And by his silent consuming, it seems like he's enjoying himself for the first time in a few days.]

[animalqueen]

[Oh my god.

So freaking cute.

She scrunches her face up, trying not to make an embarrassing noise. He might be some weird shapeshifting... something, but Corvus makes a very adorable black cat.

Eventually, she can't help herself:]








Okay I'm sorry but can I pet you just for a little bit.

[All in one run-on sentence.]

[coalheart]

[The cat looks up and makes a face.]

I'm eating.

[That's as good as a "NOPE."]

[animalqueen]

[uuuuugh but-]

After you eat?

Please?

[coalheart]

I told you I wasn't going to touch you.

Why do you want to touch me?

[aaaaaand ruined]

[animalqueen]

[HNGH.....

She makes a pouting face.]

Because you're a really, really cute cat. It's criminal.

[coalheart]

[He takes another nibble at his macaron before replying.]

Humans love felines and touching them too much. It's a disease.

[animalqueen]

[Wow, what a fuddy-duddy. She nearly rolls her eyes, despite his cute fluffiness.]

Uh, it's called showing love and affection.

[coalheart]

Dogs aren't any better.

[corvus that isn't the point]

[animalqueen]

What? That's not what I was saying.

[Is he really that oblivious?]

Basically I'm saying that humans like petting cats because they love their pets and want to make them happy.

[coalheart]

... Hm.

[Back to his macaron then. He's savoring the last two bites and uses his paw to wipe some stray cream off of his nose. He honestly does not understand that this just makes him look more cute, probably because no one ever called him that ever. Elle did, but so far, he didn't think much of it.

He just thought she was weird.]

[animalqueen]

[Cream on his nose.

Cream on his nose.

It's the straw that breaks the camel's back.]

Oh my god I'm sorry please don't scratch me remember that I fed you and let you sleep on my couch-

[And she leans over and picks him up, plopping him down in her lap, and strokes his head. Maybe risking his ire? So worth it.]

[coalheart]

[He was just about to take the last bite of his macaron before being picked up. There's a disgruntled and displeased hissing cat noise and there's an initial struggle to wrestle out of her lap, but his joints ache. And so, unfortunately, he gives up and sinks into her hands, letting Elle pet him as she pleases. This is... Unpleasant. Unpleasant, not because the petting was bad, per say, but rather he didn't want it to begin with.

He gives her a minute before he speaks up.]

If I turned back into a man, you'd toss me onto the floor, wouldn't you?

[animalqueen]

[If she feels bad for taking advantage of his tired state, it's overridden by the fact that she gets to pet him while he sits in her lap. He's so soft, and so cute. And so sleek, a very handsome cat when he wasn't being adorable.

She's pulled out of her reverie when he speaks again.

But Elle, perhaps surprisingly, just laughs. It's a bright sounding thing.]

I would. But you won't do it.

[coalheart]

... You don't know that.

[True, he's injured and tired, but he could do it if he wanted.]

[animalqueen]

[She shakes her head, still gently petting him. Her fingers move from the top of his head down to his shoulder blades.]

I'm calling your bluff. [ ♪ ]

[coalheart]

[Silence. He knows she's right.]

... You can't pet me all day.

[animalqueen]

I don't plan on it. But just for a little longer.

[And so she does. It's only for a minute or two, and she's smiling lightly when she does.

And when she finishes, she picks him back up, nuzzling his furry little neck with her nose some, then gently puts him back on the couch.]

See, was that so bad?

[coalheart]

[He sits on his hind legs, tail swishing back and forth. He bows his head as if not wanting to admit anything.]

... You didn't injure me further.

[nice]

[animalqueen]

Well. That's not saying you didn't enjoy it.

Come on, admit it. Even grumpy old Leeroy likes being petted like that, and he's the hardest cat in the world to please.

[coalheart]

[He's not sure why there's a stubbornness that rises up in him. Why does he want to protest so much? But he can only do so with his silence. And he also goes to delicately pick up that last macaron piece, move off of the couch with a light landing on the floor...




And then he proceeds to go under the couch where he can't be dragged out. Talk about petty.]

[animalqueen]

[Wow.

She thinks to herself that maybe Corvus should have chosen to live with cats instead of crows, because he already kind of acts like one.]

...Okay, then.

[She picks up the box of macaroons from where she left them, on the edge of the couch.]

So I guess you don't want another?

[coalheart]

I'd find them even if you hid them.

[Get treated like a cat, you become the cat Corvus.]

One is enough.

[animalqueen]

[Eye roll.]

Not if I ate them all first. Then you'd just be left with cat "rations".

[She opens the box, but she only takes one. It's an empty threat on her part, and she bites down lightly on the macaron, keeping it held in her teeth as she walks back to the kitchen counter, setting the box down where she found it initially.]

Anyway, if you have enough energy to give me lip, then you must be feeling a little bit better than yesterday? [-she says, with a macaron in her mouth.]