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.

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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]

[Fireworks... Ah, it was those blasted burning lights that humans shot up in the air during their loud celebrations. It made flying difficult through the cities in particular. Not that he'll say that aloud. He has a feeling it would cause unnecessary grumbling if he stated his opinion like that.]

So you're celebrating in your own way without having to go outside.

[animalqueen]

No, we're celebrating without having to go outside.

[Usually, she just enjoys the fireworks at her balcony, has a beer or two, and then goes to bed. But now she has a reason to celebrate a little more; granted, Corvus doesn't exactly scream "party animal", but it's nice having someone else here for a change.

Besides, this is still part of her crusade of Corvus Will Learn to Enjoy Himself One Day.]

Why do you think I bought a whole cake? There's no way I can eat that all by myself.

[coalheart]

Why wouldn't you eat it by yourself?

[His tail swishes as he sits upright.]

Given the opportunity, I would eat the whole cake myself.

[CORVUS...]

[animalqueen]

Uh, because I would feel terrible after I did?

[She raises a brow at him. He really likes sweet things, doesn't he?]

Well, you can have as much as you want, as long as you don't give yourself a stomach ache. Just save some for me, all right? ...Though you're going to have a tough time eating that with cat paws.

[coalheart]

[If he was a human, he'd have a, "Watch me!" expression. Because he can eat that damn cake as a cat. But being a cat, he doesn't have that facial expression.]

I'll manage.

The fireworks will erupt at midnight, correct?

[animalqueen]

That's right, when the clock strikes twelve.

[She then turns to grab two paper plates from the kitchen, and something to cut the cake with.]

Guess it wouldn't hurt to start the food and drink a little early, though. [She'll cut herself and Corvus a slice. He places his in front of him, finding her life quite a strange one if she's feeding cake to a cat at her kitchen table.]

You have any New Years resolutions you'd like to make, and then inevitably break a few months later?

[...Guess she'll go for the beer, too. Why not?]

[coalheart]

[He eyes the cake as he answers Elle.]

I am the same as I ever was. I am not a goal oriented creature like humans who set up goalposts for an arbitrary amount of time.

[animalqueen]

[What a decidedly alien answer.]

Then how are you supposed to improve yourself without goals?

[coalheart]

For the majority of my time on this planet, I was a crow.

[He'll take a bite of cake now, thanks.]

I followed their patterns and lived as they did.

[animalqueen]

[And Elle just pops open her beer with a bottle opener, taking a swig while looking down at Corvus skeptically.]

Yes, but... you're technically not a crow. You're obviously a lot more complicated than that; you have the ability to change yourself if you wanted to -- and I don't just mean, like, shapeshifting. Set goals, and all that. Nothing I've seen about you so far tells me otherwise.

[coalheart]

[Stuffing his face with cake and ignoring that call out, thanks.

That said... He does have a goal. He didn't fulfill it. In fact, it was a miserable failure. And it's not one he wants to share with Elle, not right now.]

[animalqueen]

...

[She thinks that she is definitely Being Ignored.]

Okay, fine. Don't share.

[She gestures with her beer bottle.]

Then you get to listen to mine. They're pretty straightforward; less cursing, more writing, more music.

[coalheart]

[He looks up from eating cake when Elle shares her goals. He's not surprised about the writing, but the music's new.

... How come he's so bad at noticing these things, he wonders? He's been so focused following one person for the past 20 or so years that barely anyone or anything else registers.]

Have you been in what they call, "a rut?"

[animalqueen]

[The big clue would be the upright piano and guitar at the far end of the living area, Corvus. But honestly, Elle wouldn't be surprised nor offended to know that he didn't put and two together.

She's not sure how to answer his question, at first.]

Sort of...? I do all right; enough to pay the bills and everything. But sometimes you want to do more than just that, for the sake of self-fulfillment, and accomplishment. A book won't write itself.

And instruments won't play themselves, either. I promised my stepdad that I'd keep up with it when I moved out here.

[coalheart]

Have you been able to play any new music recently?

[Because of all human conventions, contraptions, and inventions... Music, next to sweet foods, is probably one of the better things Corvus can appreciate.]

[animalqueen]

Yeah, actually... [She laughs, vaguely embarrassed.] Some Christmas music. Not exactly relevant now, is it?

[coalheart]

It's something.

[Presenting, Corvus' indirect way of being reassuring I guess?]

Music is good. There are sounds we could live without, but there is a lot of beauty in the noise that humans attempt to draw out of themselves.

[animalqueen]

[Wow... that almost sounds like Corvus has a bit of music appreciation in him.]

It is a beautiful sort of "noise". Do you have a preference, yourself?

[coalheart]

If it doesn't irritate me, I'll be fine with it.

[How... Vague. He pauses as if reconsidering his answer.]

Wind chimes. Bells. The big ones in religious structures.

[animalqueen]

[Interesting. She's presented with choral imagery when he mentions that.]

Like church bells. And the choir too?

[coalheart]

[Have a cat nod at you Elle.]

Yes. There was probably a time long before you existed when I lingered around those buildings during and after their construction.

[animalqueen]

[She sometimes forgets that Corvus is old. Old enough to have been around when historic churches were being built. She's in awe, for a moment, before she reels her imagination back in long enough to ask him a question.]

What was it like?

[coalheart]

Solemn.

[He paws at his cake to break off a piece. And then he licks his paw before continuing.]

Despite the changing tides caused by the smallest ripples of conflict, humans kept creating. Walls are built. Walls destroyed. So on. So forth.

... You'll break through your own walls. That, I can say with certainty.

[animalqueen]

[For a moment, she's speechless. She wonders if she heard him right, and plays it over in her head to be sure.]

That's the nicest thing you've said to me. [That ranks up on the nicest thing anyone has said to her throughout the entire year, even without meaning to.

She smiles. It makes her feel happy, if tinged with slight embarrassment.]

Thanks, Cor. That's kind of sweet.

[Again, she doesn't know how to follow that up, her words disappearing from her mind. And so, she just takes a long swig from her beer.]

I... um. I can find some music that's meant to imitate bells ringing, maybe a piano arrangement. I don't think you want me to sing to you, though. [It's the slightest twist on the truth; more like she just doesn't really feel comfortable doing that. (And right after his nice comment about breaking down walls, too.)] Usually an instrument is enough to soothe on its own, anyway.

[coalheart]

[The funny thing about Corvus is he doesn't think about his words (well, obviously) as good or bad. He's selective about what he reveals, what he thinks is necessary to know or not know in order to move ahead more quickly. What he said to Elle, he didn't mind revealing because it was a truth to him.

Her gratefulness for what he said is odd, but he supposes he can accept it. It meant he was able to pay her back for the temporary shelter in some abstract way.]

If you want. I will not press for it since you are providing more than enough.