@ecritverite said: © © © hehe :^) send “©” for a muse fact: accepting.
- sloan doesn’t really go by her last name, because it feels too much her father’s – it is his identifier in her eyes. it was what her mother and aunt called him, almost exclusively. in school, when inevitably called by the name, she tended to not even recognise herself as the object of the conversation and that has gotten her in trouble more than once, with the assumption that sloan was deliberately ignoring her superiors or peers.
instead, it is her middle name that she used, though not as often anymore – only ever interacting with patrons that that are so taken by the products of her gift that they either brush her aside or run in terror, sloan is not really asked what she’s called. if she were, her name would be sloan evangeline. and even that name was given by her father, in lieu of being blocked from a first name by his own mother.
- sloan thinks she’d like living in the city, in one of those old buildings with the fire scape ladders. she thinks she’d like the noise of a city bustling at all hours of the day and neighbours living through too thin walls. running a bookshop where people regularly just drop down and read, as if it is a proper library, means she basks in the white noise all day and going home to no one will make the quiet old very fast. it’s one of the few fantasies she allows herself, but she won’t ever go through with it, too attached to the place she grew up in.
- her first memory is of being handed an almost comically big (for her four-year old self) watering can by her father and bathing the snake plant growing by the front door with his help, while her mother and aunt danced together under the sunstrips made by the large kitchen windows.
