Gabrielle "Elle" Grayson (
animalqueen) wrote in
finalflight2016-12-09 12:47 pm
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Entry tags:
psl; [the healing process]

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:
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
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[He puts his hands in his pockets.]
Leaving people alone, I mean.
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I guess. I mean, no one wants be to alone, right?
[She doesn't either. Even though it's been just a few days, it's been kind of nice to have some company in her otherwise empty apartment. Corvus is a nice balance of quiet consideration and idle companionship -- even if it was mostly as a cat.]
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[He looks away from her, as if not wanting to look her in the eye.]
No, they don't.
[His voice has grown quieter than usual and he's grown distant yet again, even though it's one of the few things he's shown to actually agree with.]
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She leans over somewhat, shifting her weight to try to fall into his line of vision. As if trying to force him to look at her.]
Hey, what did I just say? [She gently reaches out to poke him squarely in the chest.] You're not alone.
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True.
You keep getting in the way.
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Uh huh. You say that like it's a bad thing. You could use a little company, otherwise you're gonna spend the rest of your life as Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding.
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[Oh, what a long road they have to go.]
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[Sigh.]
So, you find anything for yourself that you like? I saw you picking up a few things over there.
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I'll take the ones that fit me best. The price range seems agreeable as well.
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[He sounds serious about this?!]
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No. Don't worry about it. Unless you want to let me give you more head scratches as a cat.
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No.
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Yeah, I didn't think so.
If you're done, let's buy all this stuff. You can wrap your scarf around your face [like a dork] on the way out.
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I am finished. I don't wish to linger any longer than we need to.
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Then let's go.
[They move to the counter, and Elle digs around in her purse to pay for the items as the cashier checks them out. She thanks them, and on the way out, she tosses him his scarf.]
Here, go crazy. You'll need it since we're going to be outside for a bit.
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What for?
[you need to get out stupid that's why]
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handsomedork. She can't believe he's really going to walk around like that, like he's in the middle of a snowstorm or something, or like it's that cold. She bites back her lower lip in order not to laugh again, when he turns to ask her a question.]So you can walk around more. Get the kinks out of those joints, stretch those muscles; you'll feel better.
And you really need to get out more, too, like I said before.
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[What she says rings truth so he doesn't argue against it.]
I suppose I'll just have to follow you around.
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[And so they leave, and hop right back into the car. Elle drives them to a particularly famous park in London, where she hopes they can enjoy a nice peaceful stroll together.]
[A nice. Peaceful. Stroll. Together.
There's a flock of birds following her. She doesn't even have to look up to tell; she can hear their chirping, the rustling in the branches as they follow her from tree to tree. She tries to walk alongside Corvus, down a little winding path, ignoring them the best she can, but it's... difficult.
Setting her jaw, she stubbornly tries to make conversation with her companion.]
So have you been... having fun today?
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I wouldn't know how to answer that.
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What do you mean you wouldn't know? You know what fun is, don't you?
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I don't engage in the same activities as humans often enough to be able to express that I've derived enjoyment from them.
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