it was the moment they had all been waiting for. or, at least, sugar had been waiting for. and very impatiently, if you ask him. he had worked hard to achieve this date with elise, powering through writers block to finish his book in time so that he could win the ultimate prize. and now, it was here. it was time. he had been a perfect gentleman thus far, getting the door for her, bringing her flowers. and now, he was holding the door of the granville open for her. "this is your last chance to bail, elise. once you walk through this door, we're officially on a date." he was grinning like a child who'd just won christmas. which, of course, he did. what more could he ask for than a date with the smartest, most beautiful woman in town?
"Sugar," Elise starts, eyebrow raised as she goes to step past him into the Granville, "If I knew bailing was an option, perhaps I would have done it already." She gives him a smile, soft and subtle, before walking across the threshold into what was, admittedly, a very nice venue to try to woo her in. She turns back to Sugar in the doorway. "I fear I'm bound by my word to give you a fair chance," she says, simply. "So I expect you to make this count."
And, although perhaps ill advised for all of Sugar's enthusiasm, she gives him a gentle wink before following a host to their reserved table.
closed starter for @elisiiium
cookie decorating event
"i think i'm better with my tattoo machine or pencil and paper." indy states, looking down at the mess of icing they had managed to create. their gingerbread person certainly look like a traditional one, to say the least. somehow the icing bag had gotten away from them and the cookie they were attempting to decorate was now mostly frosting. "well at least it'll taste good, right?"
Elise had laughed pleasantly and good naturedly through this entire ordeal. Elise's favorite part of presenting a baked good was making it look pretty. It was also her least favorite part, especially when icing was involved. Truthfully, Elise may come off as a perfectionist but she was far too impatient to let frosting or icing cool. Or set. This had been something she'd known about herself since childhood.
"I think it'll taste wonderful, Indy," Elise says, "though you know my weakness for sweets." Which is, honestly, why Elise's gingerbread person was dusted lightly in sugar and colored frosting for clothes. "Do you think you'd do better with a piping bag and icing? It might feel like tattooing."
sugar: i don't want an espresso machine or a four-slice toaster. i don't even eat toast.
sugar: we're going to the granville. i'll make us reservations for friday, and i'll pick you up at seven.
sugar: you could wear a potato sack and be gorgeous, elise.
elise: What do you mean you don't eat toast.
elise: And I don't know about that, Sugar, but I'll find something for the occasion.
elise: I cannot believe you.
elise: I'll see you Friday at Seven then.
elise: You're rather determined, aren't you?
elise: I still don't know why you chose a date when you could have asked for something more practical, like an espresso machine or a four-slice toaster.
elise: Just tell me where to meet and how formal to dress, I suppose.
"He's what we call a velcro cat," Alejandro explained, fondness ringing in his voice. "He'll spend all day curled up in your lap if you let him." It was amazing that Smudge hadn't been adopted yet given his affectionate nature, but then again, he wasn't a kitten anymore and kittens tended to catch everyone's attention first. "I think it's easier than people think. They kind of just choose you." He shrugged at that. Alejandro felt about cats similarly to how the ancient Egyptians were rumored to have -- they were the superior species and humans were simply here to meet their every need. "I always suggest adopting in pairs especially for younger cats. Other than that -- love and attention." He gestured around the cafe. "Lots of toys and things to scratch and climb on. It'll keep them busy and stop any behaviors."
Elise inclines her head, a charmed and surprised look on her face. "A velcro cat," Elise repeats, delighted by the term. "Oh, that matches perfectly." Smudge, the ragdoll in question, squirms in the way that he wanted, maybe, more support. Elise holds him closer. He was a sweet thing.
"Do they?" Elise asks, and she wonders... Elise didn't entirely believe in fate or superstition, but she could believe that Smudge, darling little angel that he was, might choose her. Or maybe just wanted attention? He's capturing her heart though. She looks up at Alejandro. "Would you suggest adopting Smudge in a pair?" She asks. "How old would you say he is? I'm not calibrated to the ages of cats, sorry to say."
closed thread for @elisiiium
location: pebble & page
Hands wrapped around the warm, festive holiday drink he had ordered, Topher leans back in his seat, waiting for Elise to arrive. They got together from time to time to catch up and chat about life and whatever else was going on in life. It was a nice, lowkey friendship. Once Elise has arrived and pleasantries are exchanged, Topher takes a sip from his drink, clearing his throat after he's swallowed. "So, have you read anything good lately?" He asks, grinning softly.
Elise hated being late. Well, technically, she wasn't late, but she wasn't there first. Though, in fairness, none of that had to do with Topher. She'd slipped into the conversation with a hint of freneticism, having been late, but soon eased once the peppermint mocha warmed her up a bit.
Has Elise read anything good lately? Elise gives a somewhat nonchalant shrug, though the honest answer is no. "I've been in a bit of a slump lately," she admits. "I need to go back to my bookshelf, but it doesn't feel like much is appealing. What about yourself? Any recommendations?"
Mateo looked up from the light table he’d been hunched over, thick black framed glasses on, a string of photo negatives draped over one hand and a brow furrowed in the particular way it always did when he was debating whether a shot was genius or trash. The moment Elise’s head appeared in the doorway, though, his whole face softened, though he was pleasantly surprised to see her.
"Oh," he chuckled, "I forgot it was about that time of day. I just..." he sighed, turning back to the photos, "I'm having a hard time here. But lunch with one of my favorite people?" He grinned, looking back to Elise, "I think that might just be what I need to turn this luck of mine around. And I'm not just saying that because you offered to buy."
He reached to put his jacket on, slipping one arm through the sleeve before pulling the rest of it over his shoulders. A quick shrug settled the fabric into place, then he patted to make sure he had his keys on him. “So,where do you wanna go for lunch?”
Elise doesn't understand photography. She notes it as she watches Mateo work over the negatives. Her head tilts slightly, and she's realizing that she ought to wear her glasses more as she squints somewhat at the negatives, trying to make out vague shapes in them. She's sure some of them are from town events, but the actual subjects are hard for her.
That's an Elise problem, ultimately.
"Ah, yes," Elise says with a laugh, knowing how often Mateo could get lost in work, especially when he was struggling. "Well, you can tell me about it over lunch if you like?" Even if Elise didn't understand photography, she did like hearing people explain what they enjoyed.
Mateo pulls on his jacket, Elise's coat is still over her arm. She needs to stop walking out into the cold. "Ah, ah," Elise says, "you get to choose the venue. I invited you, so you get to choose. Rules of Lunch with Elise."
starter for: @strdstave (mateo)!
where: the maple brook post
"Knock knock," Elise says, poking her head into Mateo's office. Now, Elise would always say she liked her coworkers equally (and for the most part, she did!), but Mateo was always a bit of a favorite. She founds she could talk to him about a lot of things, and he'd engage in conversations earnestly. More than that, he was always willing to teach her new things.
Including baking techniques, which was an interest they shared.
Today, though, wasn't about baking. Today was Elise playing roulette and inviting one of her coworkers to lunch. It just happened to be Mateo was luckier than others.
"What are you thinking for a meal break? My treat."
elise was asking great questions. questions sugar didn't know the answers to. "for the suspense, i guess. who doesn't love a good cop chase?" but even as he said it, he didn't feel it. the chase felt clunky and outdated in the confines of his story thus far, but he didn't know what else to do with the space. "i don't think i want them to get caught, yet. or at all." it would be an interesting ending, if they didn't get caught. it would be unexpected, given what he had written so far, and unexpected was always good in a thriller novel. he typed a couple of quick notes on his computer before taking another sip of coffee. "what if they get away with it?" more notes being typed as the wheels in his brain whirled with the possibilities. his characters' crimes so far were justified, and perhaps he could make it make sense to let them go free.
he thought back to his most recent meeting with his editor, although the thought made his skin tingle with frustration. "he just said i needed, and i quote, 'more.' more?! more what? what does that even mean?" he groaned, gesturing vaguely with his hands and almost knocking over his coffee. he steadied the cup, staring at it for a moment as if it held the answers to the universe. and he wished it did, but if it were that easy to get the solutions to all his problems, the cafe would certainly be a lot busier. and he loved this little cafe, especially for their little writing dates. he liked to call them dates, but they were more just meetings. focused entirely on their work. "anyway, enough about me. what are you working on right now?" he often worried that he monopolized their time together, making everything about him at all times.
"What if they get away with it," Elise echoes, a sounding board. "Is that justice? Does that narratively make sense with what you've put in so far?" Elise wasn't trying to be harsh on Sugar, either. She knows full well that Sugar was working hard on this novel, that writing had become a new passion since the turn from his dance career. Elise didn't mean to burden him with too many questions, but when he came to her for advice, she gave it all she had to try to help.
Elise wrinkles her nose slightly at the idea of more. "What a very specific direction," Elise notes, most sarcastically. She watches Sugar's movements, her own gears turning for how to possibly help Sugar's story. "It would be an interesting commentary on justice," Elise says, "if they got away." What would Sugar be saying in that case?
Sugar, for his part, tries to turn the conversation on her and Elise just taps her pen on the notepad. "Notes for an interview. A Maple Brook native is giving a book tour, so I'm doing an interview later this week. Should be interesting."
That's really all she gives him. They'd only just met for coffee and she's already thinking of so much else. Her notes meld together as she thinks about the 'what if' on a date with Sugar. He was charming and nice. She couldn't deny that. But--
"It's really not that exciting," she decides. "Besides, I'd rather hear about you, anyways."
Who: @purepinotnoir (Jin)
Where: Main Street
What: Scarecrow Scavenger
Elise looks at the paper she'd been handed, wondering how on Earth she could have lived in town so long and not immediately gotten the hints. She's never been one for puzzles, or mysteries, but she does like the challenge of getting to know the town better.
It was suggested that people pair up, but in this instance, Elise doesn't know anyone around to ask. That is, until she sees someone she recalls from The Secret Ruins. She smiles, walking up to introduce herself.
"It's Jin, isn't it? You DJ at Secret Ruins?" Elise holds out a hand, formal as always. "Proposition. You team up with me to do the Scavenger Hunt. If we win, you can take the Mayor for the Day position."
"It's fine. I'm just used to Indy, that's all." Nobody but their aunt called them Indigo. The errant person thought Indy was short for Indiana (like Indiana Jones), but still. It really wasn't an issue, just something that they had noticed.
Indy wasn't the same person that they were when they first arrived in Maple Brook, but then again, that was a long time ago. They had grown up and matured, and somehow found their way in life. They wouldn't claim to have everything figured out - could anyone, really? - but Indy was happy with the little life they had built for themself. "Cooking for one can be hard." Indy agrees, nodding. "Unless you like leftovers. Or in my case, you have a best friend slash roommate that eats your leftovers." They chuckle, grinning softly. "Ha. I promise that I don't always have my life together. I'm pretty sure I've needed to do laundry for at least two weeks now." Indy says teasingly, shrugging back in their aunt's direction. "What's the saying? Comparison is the thief of joy? It's not fair to compare, we're two very different people with two very different lives."
Elise exhales a laugh when Indy mentions their roommate. In truth, it had been hard when Indy moved out. Elise never let them know that, but going from having Indigo to having an empty apartment again felt disorienting. How Elise's life had entirely changed with Indigo there...
They'd had their disagreements, mostly when Indy had pursued a GED instead of going to High School, but Elise had long since gotten over that and was rather proud of where Indy was now.
"Well, laundry is an endless task. I hate it, no matter how much I pretend to have it together as well." Indy had probably noticed over the years, the way Elise's persona -- her work one and personal one -- were incredibly different. Capable and strong and independent at work and a bit clueless sometimes at home, usually revolving around being somewhat overwhelmed with life. That wasn't Indy's burden to deal with, though.
"Comparison is the thief of joy," Elise repeats, a smile on her lips. "Well, you're right about that." Two entirely different pasts that neither of them brought up. Sometimes Elise wonders, maybe, if she'd kept in touch with her parents if Indy would meet their grandparents. Not that there was much to meet there. "I often forget. It feels like you've been part of my life forever sometimes."
once saint is satisfied that elise has picked a few options, she grabbed one more for herself, a dark emerald number. "and this one too. because i'm a sucker for green." she gave elise a conspiratory wink, folding it over her arm with the other dress. "oh, elise, you're too sweet. but yes, she is the luckiest woman, second only to myself. i'm the one that gets to spend the rest of my life with her." saint loved many things in her life, but there were few she held as dear as her wife and children. they were her everything, and her life had felt empty before them.
saint flagged down the saleswoman and let her know that the girls were ready to try on their choices. they were placed in rooms opposite each other, separated only by a large mirror, which worked out perfectly. "okay, you first. you have more." she said, hanging her options on the hook in her dressing room. the two colours together reminded her of christmas and she was lost for a moment in her thoughts of everything she had to get done by the time the holidays rolled around. she shook her head as if she could clear her mind like an etch-a-sketch, and turned her attention back to elise. "go, go! i can't wait to see that red one on you."
Because I'm a sucker for green, Saint says, as if Elise didn't notice that Saint looked good in every color. Elise does smile, the love between Saint and her wife quite evident. Elise wonders if such a thing would exist for her, not that she was looking seriously. A few flings here or there that ended often in disaster. Nothing to write home about, not that she even planned on writing home at all.
Saint's confidence to flag down someone for help is not without notice. Usually, Elise would just slip quietly into a fitting room, then make her way out without much fanfare. Usually, Elise would shop alone.
Elise smiles as Saint waves her on and Elise comes out in the red dress first, noting that it wasn't quite as nice as it was on the rack, but there were plenty more to choose from. "I like it, but maybe something else?" Elise offers. "What about you? Care to show me one of yours?"
Perhaps it was a little rude to just go up to someone and begin speaking, but well, he didn't want something as precious as this earring to be lost in the hustle and bustle of a public library. It did, after all, look to be authentic and not cheap, maybe even a little older than anything that would be sold nowadays. Even if it wasn't this woman's, at least he could say he tried before he left it with the staff.
Relieved, Armando let the earring fall into the other's hand. “No trouble at all, ma'am. I'm more than happy to help.” His hands now free of the earring, he awkwardly stuck them in his back pockets. “Quite a pretty thing, I say.” He offered, his head gesturing toward the earring. “Don't see much like it lately. And it's in good condition. You must love it somethin' awful. Is it a family jewel?” His curiosity always got the better of him, he supposed, but he felt it was only polite to make conversation after intruding on the other, even if he was only trying to be helpful.
“It glimmered in the light.” He shrugged, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “Though, truth be told, I've been readin' a lotta mysteries lately, so I reckon my sense may have just been heightened.” He offered a laugh at the end, though, part of him was worried he was becoming too engrossed in mystery novels for his own good. Maybe he should find something calming like a meditation book while he's here.
Elise is truly just glad he was honest. Not to say that she didn't believe that he, personally, wouldn't be. Time in New York city had hardened Elise to be skeptical of strangers and their willingness to be helpful. It wasn't a good outlook. It wasn't a kind outlook.
Still, Elise smiles and nods to his assessment. "Thank you. My mother gave it to me," Elise says, not wanting to get into the quite dreary history that that was. For as nice of things as her mother would give her... it didn't really ease the ache Elise feels thinking about her. What might have been if her mother had been kinder and all of that. "Which, before that it might have been my grandmother's, so you could call it a family jewel."
When he explains how he saw it, Elise does smile. "I love a good mystery," she says. "I always admire the people who can put those pieces together, and the writers who do it in reverse. Not myself, admittedly. I'm much more straightforward. I don't guess the endings ahead of time."
She grins, then. She didn't always want to admit it, but despite her awkwardness with socializing, she was a social creature.
"I'm Elise, by the way. Good to meet you. I've seen you before, haven't I? At Aurora's Fair?"
Spring Cleaning. Otherwise Known As A Yearly Ritual.
Summary: Elise and her relationship with Spring Cleaning, her Parents, and Small Rituals.
Trigger Warnings: None
Content Warnings: Parent-Child Conflict
Elise, thirty-something, scrubbed furiously at the baseboards. It was springtime again, indicated by Elise having opened all the west facing windows for the first time that year. The sun shone from the East, casting the room in ambient light. Perhaps if she wasn't so preoccupied, she could have noticed how beautiful it was.
This was one of those moments that she feared, the moment when Indy realized that their aunt had absolutely lost her mind.
Indy is sixteen. Indy isn't here.
Growing up, Spring Cleaning in the Gardner Household was superstitious. Elise was superstitious depending on who you asked. She'd deny it, but the truth of it was that luck and karma and the idea of cycles contested furiously in her heart and head. Her logic rattled against bars her upbringing had placed inside her head.
Clare Marie Gardner was the sort of mother who believed in order and laws, even if those laws were arbitrary.
Spring Cleaning was a ritual. It was special.
Dust had to be swept out to the West Window towards the end of the day. Floors had to be swept. Every piece of your past had to be thanked before you let it slip through your fingers.
Elise wondered how true that was. She doesn't know if she'd thank her parents for what they did.
Or maybe what they didn't do?
For years, Elise felt the weight of their absence in her life, despite being right there. Her father was busy with business, her mother was busy with education. Elise was busy with school and work and clubs and raising her brother.
Their family was a web of tangled knots all tense enough to snap.
Maybe that's why Elise was the first to do so.
The summer after she graduated college, her relationship with her parents imploded.
This is how they raised her. This is how they razed her.
Elise stormed out in the August rain, her small sedan already packed to head towards Maple Brook, CT.
It had been such a small thing. A small comment about how Connecticut wouldn't be anything like home.
No, Elise thought. Connecticut would be better. Because you, and mom, and your favorite child (read: Elise's brother) won't be there. Connecticut would be better because Connecticut was somewhere else entirely. Connecticut could be Elise's.
Call Elise selfish and ungrateful if you want. Her parents did! She didn't have to thank this piece of her past, she doesn't want to claim it the way that it's claimed her.
Now, she runs the water in the sink, washing the debris in her sponge away until the water turns clear. No more bad energy. No more of her winter sadness haunting her home.
She thinks about the ways in which her compulsions cursed her. The way her hands were dry and drowned by the end of this. She thinks about how she leaves the window open until the chill comes in, running the heat to compensate so Indy won't ask questions.
It's an expensive subversion. It's a shameful aversion.
Elise, fifty-seven, still opens her west windows for the first time this spring. Elise, twelve, asking her mother why it was always the west.
It's the fading light that carries away the past, Clare Gardner explained. It's the fading light that takes it and holds it close as you propel forwards towards a new day. The world keeps turning. You've no choice but to carry on.
It’s terrible advice, Elise had thought. But that didn’t make it any less true.
he shook his head adamantly, his lips curling into a slight frown and his brows scrunching slightly. "i'm doing this because i like you, elise. i think you're smart and witty and charming." he said firmly but softly, trying not to scare her. she refused to meet his eyes, and he knew he had to tread carefully if he wanted to proceed without spooking her. but then, before he could speak again, her eyes met his again and she was making a request of him. 'only kiss me if you mean it.' his eyes dropped to her lips for a moment before looking back up at her. he could kiss her now and mean it. however, he wanted to wait until after their date, so he had the chance to take her out at least once before he ruined their friendship.
"deal." he said simply, swallowing his feelings. he flipped open his messenger bag and pulled out his laptop, setting it carefully on the table between them. "so, shall we get to work, then? i'm going to need your help if i have any hope of getting this stupid book done." he said, taking a sip of his coffee before opening the laptop. "last we left off, they were being chased by the cops. but i'm considering scrapping that whole scene." he admitted aloud as he pulled up the word document that contained his manuscript.
Elise felt like none of those things that Sugar thought she was. She watches his gaze fall to her lips and she feels something in her chest tighten. He'd learn. He'll be disappointed in their date and learn better than to pin any hope on it. 'Deal,' he acquiesces, and she feels a slightly pained pang at the thought of ruining their friendship with this.
Sugar pulls out his laptop. Elise flips a page on her memo pad, marking up another note she made to herself. She had an interview she was giving a local author soon and was taking biographical and contextual notes.
Elise often did this. Worked her own notes while Sugar told her about his book. It was a thriller, but Elise still hadn't put all the pieces together. Mostly, she'd like to attribute, due to the fact she didn't have all of them. Sugar and her coffee dat-- meetings only happened every so often. Less so when the two of them got busy.
"Well, what stakes does leaving the police chase in offer?" Elise asks, looking up from her papers. "Is it for the suspense of getting caught? Will they get caught?" She sips her lavender latte. Elise shakes her head. Sugar is better at telling stories than she is, but Elise loved listening to them. His stories. Anyone's stories...
"Has your editor given you any notes? I know everyone's process is different. Do you know, ultimately, the outcome? I expect you do. What does this contribute, either to the stakes or the theme, or your ending?"
theartofmadeline
germansingergirl
2087
jbbartram-illu
turnnoffyourmind
ellievsbear
