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

[coalheart]

You just made a scene.

[thank you captain obvious corvus]

[animalqueen]

No, I did not. You just made things weird.

[She shakes her head, casting her gaze to the floor. SORTING THROUGH THESE BOOKS AGAIN.]

Fine, I'll just close my eyes and pick something-

[And she does. Her fingers grasp the spine of a book, and she holds up...

The Great Gatsby.]

[coalheart]

Oh.

[Is all he has to say about Elle telling him he was being creepy again. Well... He did warn her.

Her randomized choice seems agreeable though. He's seen that title before, in stores and the like. It's come up more than once.]

I've seen that. While flying around.

[animalqueen]

[Almost immediately, Elle can tell what she's picked up by just the back cover alone.]

The art of the front cover is pretty much in all the big bookstores. It's a classic. Drama, romance, tragedy. Futility in life. A desire for things you can't have.

[She lifts herself up from the floor, book in hand.]

But I'm not reading to you on the floor. Let's get on the couch.

[coalheart]

[The black cat stalks towards the couch as instructed and climbs up, circling around once to get a good footing and a comfortable laying down position.]

How long will you read?

[animalqueen]

[She sits down, shifting her weight to face him slightly, pulling her legs up and curling into the corner.]

As long as you want me to. Or at least until you get bored, or tired. Though it's not that long of a book.

[Honestly, they could probably finish it in one day, but that's assuming he wants to just sit there and listen for that long.]

Ready?

[coalheart]

As I'll ever be.

[That seems to be the appropriate response. He stares at the book intently, waiting for her to begin.]

If I happen to fall asleep, which may be likely, you can stop.

[animalqueen]

You really know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?

[Eye roll. But she just brushes it off, and decides to start. Opening up the book, she begins.]

"In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.
'Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.'"

[She reads with ease, her focus solely on the words before her. She's read it countless times before (first in school, then for pleasure after that), but reading it now to someone else is a different sort of experience. It makes her conscious of setting the tone, and the inflection in her voice when reciting dialogue.

All-in-all, there's a calmness in how she reads to him, a serenity in the undercurrent in how she paints the scene with her words.]

~*~*~*~*~*
[It's only when they're part way through the book when Elle lowers the novel to see if Corvus is still with her. She peers at him, half-expecting him to have fallen asleep maybe 3 chapters ago.]

[coalheart]

[His eyes were still open.

Corvus had been silent the whole time, allowing Elle's voice to lull him into a sense of calm. In his own way, he's trying to understand the story and not just listen to the voice of the girl. He's not sure if he really gets it or if he ever will, but the events made sense and so did the consequences of the actions of Daisy and Mr. Gatsby. Like a ring of fate that could not be avoided once you were set on its tracks.

It's hard to tell that Corvus is having any contemplative thoughts as a cat though. His tail just moves back and forth and he's not a fidgety cat.]

[animalqueen]

[Okay. He's still awake. Points for him.

Still, she wants to be considerate. She offers:]

Need a break?

[coalheart]

[His head moves up to look up at her.]

I've been resting the whole time.

[Corvus...]

But if you wish to stop, I have no reason to argue.

[animalqueen]

[Corvus....... well, she'll concede his point there.] Good point. But no, I'm still good. Just making sure you weren't dying of boredom over there, over Gatsby's undying yearning for Daisy.

[coalheart]

I've been listening.

[His tail rests on the cushion.]

She doesn't sound like she'd make for a good mate.

[animalqueen]

[She raises a brow at his word choice, but doesn't comment on it. Instead, she asks:]

Why do you think that?

[coalheart]

Her attentions always seem to be somewhere else.

I don't think I like any of these people.

[Corvus....]

[animalqueen]

Maybe the point isn't to like any of them. Maybe the point is to peer into their lives, and try to understand why they make the decisions that they do.

[Sometimes, she feels like she's explaining things to a child who can't quite comprehend things on a more... complex level.]

Daisy is in an unhappy marriage, where the love drained away a long time ago. Her husband is cheating on her, and she's just come across her long lost love again. I think I'd be distracted, too.

[coalheart]

... Human lives are short.

[He looks down at his paws, thinking.]

But there are things that would feel much too long for them, would it?

[animalqueen]

[...And then Corvus asks questions like those, deep and unsettlingly heavy, and she has to continually readjust her expectations of him.]

Yes. Loneliness does that to a person.

[She falls silent for a moment or two, unsure how else to proceed. She had been so ready to explain the themes and social intricacies of the novel to him, if he had asked. But for some reason all her words have flown away.

So she settles on a question instead.]

...Hey, Cor, just how old are you?

[coalheart]

I never bothered to keep track. Nor do I have an exact frame of reference of my arrival.

[He had always been with the crows and ravens, away from humans who had endless conflicts with momentary periods of peace in between.]

[animalqueen]

[She furrows her brow in confusion.]

Arrival? From where?

[coalheart]

Where else would something that was not a man or creature of this world come from?

[Think about THAT Devon. He leaves her to figure it out while he lays his head down to rest.]

[animalqueen]

[It takes her all of maybe two seconds. She's read a lot of Lovecraft, you know.]

Oh my god. Are you an alien?

[coalheart]

[The cat ear twitch. He doesn't answer for a minute.]

That's the word they use here.

1/2

[animalqueen]

[Her fingers around the book tighten. She brings it up to her face, covering it completely. She's muttering something, trying her best not to sound too high-pitched.]

Oh my god. I can't believe it. I have an alien on my couch. I have an alien living with me.

[THAT'S SO COOL. I mean, she should be panicking, right? But after seeing what he can do, the shock of such a confession doesn't seem to faze her the way it should. Oh man. She has so many questions she wants to ask, but she knows it'll annoy him if she just fires them off one by one.]

[animalqueen]

[Okay. Breathe. Play it cool.

She lowers her book. Her face is deadly serious, because she's trying so hard to be casual.]

I guess... that makes sense.

[She clears her throat.]

Wanna keep listening?