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

[animalqueen]

[Wow way to be blunt. Elle frowns a little, but once against staves off being offended simply because yes, Corvus, you are one very strange alien-man.]

That's not true. I mean, usually I don't have much warning when you do the things you do-- If I did, I wouldn't react so much.

[It makes sense to her, at least.]

You have to transform for "self maintenance"? How does that help?

[coalheart]

[She... has a point. Corvus would have to concede that he usually does not prime her for whenever he does... Almost anything really. He'll keep trying though.]

... Right now it's not a painless process. It hasn't been for a while.

[He rubs his nose in an absent minded manner with the back of his hand.]

So I practice just to build up my endurance.

[He's been without an essential part of his biology for 27 years now, but that number is minute to a being like him and thus the pain that goes with his metamorphosis still feels fresh in a sense.]

[animalqueen]

[Elle's frown deepens at the mention of it hurting for him. She thinks back on all the times he's changed -- nearly everyday, recently, from man to cat and back again -- and suddenly she feels sad that it's not such an easy process for him.]

...Oh.

[Oh, she says, and that doesn't feel like enough.]

...Is that why you only use that face? As a human. Because it's easier and you have more practice with it?

[coalheart]

I've used other faces before. But you're right in assuming that.

[Corvus leans back on the sofa, laying down so that he's facing the ceiling again, hands clasped together and on his lap. He's relaxing and contemplating at the same time (he's been really relaxed, more so than usual, than ever before. It's a strange feeling).]

... There's no name I could give you for what I really am... [As in a label aside from alien. Any defining language that there was, is lost even to him.

And he realizes that this is going to veer into uncomfortable territory again, but it's worth bringing up; his inhumanity that is. They both have scraped the surface of his possible cruelty, but as for what he is entirely, it's a different conversation.]

But I can mimic any being with a brain and spinal cord. Mammals in general are easiest. Cold blooded creatures, is a possibility. Fish and bugs, never bothered. Not enough advantages. Too limited.

[animalqueen]

[She goes quiet, realizing that this is the first time Corvus has really spoken about the details of his transformations -- what he can and cannot do. She moves to the couch, sitting down with a slight wince. She still feels like crap, which was the whole reason why she had woken up early. (Shark week. Not that she'll say that much, because talk about an embarrassing conversation to have.)]

That's still... amazing. That you can do that. To change your biology so drastically; it really is like something out of a sci-fi novel.

[She pauses.] But... well. Why that face, specifically? Do you just like how it looks? [What made him decide that, "yeah, this is the face I want to use by default", she wonders.]

[coalheart]

Mm. Well. It sounds amazing, but try imagining more than one of me and the trouble it can make.

[Cor glances at her, something like amusement flitting across his features when she inquires about his face.]

This face? [One hand is brought up so he can stroke his chin thoughtfully, before setting it down. How long has it been since...??]

... Has it occurred to you that, it belonged to someone else at some point?

[animalqueen]

[He has a point. It sounds... chaotic, to say the least. To be from a race that can change their form, practically whenever they want. The trouble they could get into. She can't even imagine.

But it's that last question that really has her looking interested. She blinks at him from where she sits.]

What, really? Who?

[And why was this person significant enough to "take" their face?]

[coalheart]

[His elbows and hands rest across his legs as he digs back into his memory, trying to remember a time when this was face wasn't his. It was so long ago, it may as well have been a dream in any other case.]

This was a time before urban cities and large populations. Sizeable, but not large. I'm going to guess and say... 1800s. France.

[He taps his chin, referring not to himself, but to the person that was.]

If he had a name, I can't recall. But he was always alone. I think the others regarded him with suspicion because he would not attend to any religious service. But he was good. To animals, I mean.

[animalqueen]

1800s? Woah.

[She seems to slide her gaze over Corvus' form once more, as if it looking at it in a whole new light now. The face of a French man from so long ago. How strange, that his face would still be "living on" to this day, thanks to Cor's abilities.

But she doesn't say anything else for now. Surely there's more to the story? She look up at him expectantly.]

[coalheart]

He didn't have much, but he always spared crusts for any crows that passed by. Including me. Crows can be considered a nuisance where crops were concerned, but instead of being driven away, he just let us linger around his home. As if we were his real companions.

[Lips become pursed when he comes to the next part.]

... Then he was robbed. Two other men broke into his house. They overpowered him and he had no one else to help. [Because that man was alone. Corvus remembers the night the man's home was invaded, how he tried to fight them off, but he had no weapons and the crows could only watch from the outside.]

[animalqueen]

[She has a faint smile on her face, which slowly being to fade as the story begins to take a darker turn. Soon, Elle looks concerned, brows knitted, even though this was something that happened so many, many years ago.]

What... what happened after that?

[coalheart]

... I took his place. They didn't bother, or rather, forgot to hide the body.

[He releases himself from his cross legged position and sets both feet on the floor.]

I lingered near him after they left so I could study his features. It didn't take long in retrospect and after copying his appearance, I buried him behind his house.

There were other villagers who came to check in on him... Well, me at that point. I had mimicked his behaviors and demeanor and knew how he went about his day so that the other humans would be none the wiser.

... But then I would have to move on eventually. I left within a month. I never went back to check to see if they found his body.

[Corvus looks at Elle.]

And that's his story. I suppose I keep this appearance because I remember it the most and because... He and I were similar.

[animalqueen]

Corvus... [She's not even trying to hide her frown, now. Even if this is a story from ages ago, she feels sad for his sake. For the sake of the man, who had been killed simply because he was different and vulnerable.]

That's so sad. I'm really sorry to hear that happened to him.

[She looks upon his face now, and there's a hint of appreciation there since she now knows the story behind it.]

You wear that face because... you sympathized with him, too, I think. It must've been a very lonely way to live, for such a long time.