Gabrielle "Elle" Grayson (
animalqueen) wrote in
finalflight2016-12-09 12:47 pm
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

ᴘᴜʀʀғᴇᴄᴛ.
And then it comes flooding back. The crow. The man. The man-crow.
She sits up immediately, eying her bedroom door, hair strewn across her face at awkward angles. Leeroy, sleeping at the edge of her bed, meows at her, as if saying don't bother.
Still, she gets up, dressed in her pajamas of the morning before, and crosses her room to open her door. She steps out into her living area, brow furrowed.]
...Corvus? Are you awake?
[That's weird. She doesn't see him.]
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The cat, Leeroy. Its presence was more preferable compared to his form as a bird or as a man. Corvus hadn't changed into a different form for a long time, but felines, he isn't unfamiliar with. Humans tended to show some sympathy for cats in comparison to birds. So throughout the night he draws from his memory and experience on how to become a cat. And he's successful.
The black cat's tail waves back and forth as it lays on its stomach, eyes closed. His ears twitch every now and then and even more when he is alerted to Elle's voice. He opens his eyes and with some difficulty gets on his hind legs to let Elle see him.
He muses, of course that she won't figure it out right away because she's still having roadblocks to believing what she sees.]
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And Corvus muses correctly; Elle doesn't put two and two together. In her mind, she only correlates Corvus with a man with black hair and dark eyes, or a large crow. She's had no reason to believe that a cat might also come into play.]
Hey there. [She starts, walking closer to the feline. She gazes out to her balcony window, where she had covered it up with duct tape and heavy cloth the night before, and drawn a thick curtain to keep the cold out. She furrows her brow, wondering how the black cat had gotten in; but then again, it's not like cats weren't clever creatures.
It's a tired-looking thing, she thinks. She tentatively reaches out to scratch at the top of his little cat head.] And who might you be?
[She looks around one more time for any sign of Corvus. Still nothing. Did he heal overnight and leave? She wouldn't put it past him, odd... person that he was.]
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Corvus.
[He moves away from her hand, scratching his head and lays down on his stomach again.]
I'm still here you know.
1/2
...Corvus?]
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You're a cat now? Can't you make up your mind?
[how embarrassing........]
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... I thought you'd prefer a cat. Rather than a man.
[And for once, he actually thinks stuff through and adds:]
If a person happened to come into your apartment, a stray feline would be easier to explain rather than a stray man.
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You know, some women could take that the wrong way. [Implying that it would be weird for her to be seen with a man in her flat, geez. Of course, she knows that he didn't mean it that way; it probably didn't even cross his mind.] Not that you'd get it.
[She drops her arms and sighs.] In any case, I'd prefer no more surprises. Warn me first next time?
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If you want a warning, I will tell you that I can take any form that I wish as long as I can comprehend it. Inanimate objects, of course, are as you people would say, "out the window."
[... Not meant to be a pun really, in regards to her own broken window.]
I limit myself, however. It's just easier that way.
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Must be nice. [Being able to change shape, she means.] Me, I have to be happy with the one body I have.
[Him having to limit himself... She remembers him mentioning that he was usually "man or crow". She thinks back to the night of the engagement party, him feeding the other crows with cake. It sparks the same question she asked then, and he had ignored:] But... why did you pick crows? As part of your "limit".
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[There's a quietness when he gives his reply. He remembers what happened to the others on the Aubel grounds. He had lead them to their deaths. Of course, among his time with the flock, many have come and gone with each passing season. But they died natural deaths. What the others suffered, that was not of this earth.
It had been a long while since he felt something like regret.]
They accept me even though they know what I am.
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Her response is hesitant but clear.]
I like crows, too. They're used a lot in... well. They're symbols a lot. In books.
[She frowns. That didn't exactly come out the way she wanted.]
Are they going to come back for you?
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[The black cat lowers its head.]
The cold killed them.
[No more, no less. He does not need to confuse the girl more with his attempted murder of a girl, his fight against another creature who assaulted him and his companions with those ugly and sickening emotions.]
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[God, what does she even say to that?]
I'm really sorry, Corvus. That's terrible.
[She's feels a sorrow, though it's likely borrowed from him.]
Is there... anything I can do for you?
[It seems like such a silly, futile question. But she has to ask. ]
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You're letting me stay here for the time being even though I broke your window.
It's more than enough.
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[But ah, maybe that's saying too much. She doesn't want him to think she believes him pathetic.]
Well. How about something to eat, Kitty Corvus?
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[Man, he needs to lighten up. But as for food...]
... Something sweet. I don't need to eat your cat's rations.
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[She's being bold enough to joke, if only for his sake. He probably doesn't even notice, she thinks.]
Besides, it's fair game. I bet you don't even remember my name.
[Meanwhile, she's going over to the kitchen. It's an open area so she can easily be seen opening up the pantry and looking through it. She decides to not remark about calling Leeroy's food "rations".]
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... Elle.
Like the letter.
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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.]
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...
[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.]
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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.]
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[The cat looks up and makes a face.]
I'm eating.
[That's as good as a "NOPE."]
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After you eat?
Please?
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Why do you want to touch me?
[aaaaaand ruined]
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