day and night

There was a hint of something akin to awe in the other woman's voice that told Wednesday that this brunette had a taste for the otherworldly. It was always easier to converse with those with similar predilections. "I am Wednesday," she replied, feeling no hesitation in giving her name. "Wednesday Addams."

The reaction to the vinyl of L.A. Woman was one she could relate to. She too had spent many nights with a cassette of this album, although it was so that she could transcribe Riders on the Storm, to see if it could be played alone on a cello without sacrificing intensity. It had been a fun project. "Vivaldi would be passable, but Corelli, Bach, or Handel would be preferable." In her mind's eye, she could see the boxes of records in her room. There was plenty of Vivaldi within the halls of Gracey Manor, and she was definitely missing some of Corelli's sonatas. "If you find a record that solely features Pachelbel's Canon in D, burn it. Even I would not wish that torture on another soul."

There was a hint of something akin to awe in the other woman's voice that told Wednesday that this brunette had a taste for the otherworldly. It was always easier to converse with those with similar predilections. "I am Wednesday," she replied, feeling no hesitation in giving her name. "Wednesday Addams."

The reaction to the vinyl of L.A. Woman was one she could relate to. She too had spent many nights with a cassette of this album, although it was so that she could transcribe Riders on the Storm, to see if it could be played alone on a cello without sacrificing intensity. It had been a fun project. "Vivaldi would be passable, but Corelli, Bach, or Handel would be preferable." In her mind's eye, she could see the boxes of records in her room. There was plenty of Vivaldi within the halls of Gracey Manor, and she was definitely missing some of Corelli's sonatas. "If you find a record that solely features Pachelbel's Canon in D, burn it. Even I would not wish that torture on another soul."

"Your bag was wide open." Her voice and expression did not betray her momentary confusion, and she simply crossed her arms, gesturing with an eyebrow at the aforementioned item. "If you don't want to lose things, I suggest closing it, or acquiring one that is more secure."

"Your bag was wide open." Her voice and expression did not betray her momentary confusion, and she simply crossed her arms, gesturing with an eyebrow at the aforementioned item. "If you don't want to lose things, I suggest closing it, or acquiring one that is more secure."

Wednesday appreciated the honesty from Victoria, although she could have guessed for herself. There was little judgment in her, as it would be exceedingly hypocritical of herself to be condemnatory towards another for their privilege, considering the wealth and age of her own family.

She nodded at the blonde's comment, taking in the other patrons and the selection on the menu. The baked goods seemed sweet, to say the least. They would not be to her taste, nor was she in the mood to torture herself. There were more interesting ways to torture oneself than to partake in consuming sugar glazed pastries— self-flagellation, for example. Although— her eyes landed upon the sandwiches. "The pastrami and pickle sandwich seems palatable." She paused as she surveyed the display case one final time. "I presume you will be ordering a sponge cake."

Wednesday appreciated the honesty from Victoria, although she could have guessed for herself. There was little judgment in her, as it would be exceedingly hypocritical of herself to be condemnatory towards another for their privilege, considering the wealth and age of her own family.

She nodded at the blonde's comment, taking in the other patrons and the selection on the menu. The baked goods seemed sweet, to say the least. They would not be to her taste, nor was she in the mood to torture herself. There were more interesting ways to torture oneself than to partake in consuming sugar glazed pastries— self-flagellation, for example. Although— her eyes landed upon the sandwiches. "The pastrami and pickle sandwich seems palatable." She paused as she surveyed the display case one final time. "I presume you will be ordering a sponge cake."

Wednesday observed as tension lowly seeped out of the muscles of the man before her. Where there was once rigidity, there was now ease— a few moments ago, Victor had looked as if a stiff wind would have blown him into an early grave. Now, there was a fluidity to his motions that she had learned indicated comfort. She was often rigid, regardless of her level of comfort, but this was not the same for others— as is often the case.

She nodded once more. "I have no need for piano lessons, but I would not mind giving you cello lessons." Teaching a fellow musician was markedly less mind-numbing than attempting to teach a child who had no real interest in the instrument. "Is music your occupation?"

Wednesday observed as tension lowly seeped out of the muscles of the man before her. Where there was once rigidity, there was now ease— a few moments ago, Victor had looked as if a stiff wind would have blown him into an early grave. Now, there was a fluidity to his motions that she had learned indicated comfort. She was often rigid, regardless of her level of comfort, but this was not the same for others— as is often the case.

She nodded once more. "I have no need for piano lessons, but I would not mind giving you cello lessons." Teaching a fellow musician was markedly less mind-numbing than attempting to teach a child who had no real interest in the instrument. "Is music your occupation?"

The man's long strides covered more ground than hers did, and she hastened her pace so that the distance would not grow too wide. Wednesday was glad that she had managed to overtake her father in height— although, the fact that she was still a little bit shorter than her mother would never fail to make her insides curl with annoyance unbecoming of her age. Still, most days she made peace with the indignity and injustice of it all.

Her gaze returned to the man as he posed a new question, and she pondered it for a moment. There was an oddity to the man that Wednesday found familiar— not unlike the oddity that permeated her family, and some of her old classmates at Nevermore. She tilted her head, entering into the backroom as she spoke. "Poisons. Weaponry. Grave-digging. Re-animation. My mother enjoys carnivorous flora, but my tastes are slightly more macabre, and oftentimes less alive."

The man's long strides covered more ground than hers did, and she hastened her pace so that the distance would not grow too wide. Wednesday was glad that she had managed to overtake her father in height— although, the fact that she was still a little bit shorter than her mother would never fail to make her insides curl with annoyance unbecoming of her age. Still, most days she made peace with the indignity and injustice of it all.

Her gaze returned to the man as he posed a new question, and she pondered it for a moment. There was an oddity to the man that Wednesday found familiar— not unlike the oddity that permeated her family, and some of her old classmates at Nevermore. She tilted her head, entering into the backroom as she spoke. "Poisons. Weaponry. Grave-digging. Re-animation. My mother enjoys carnivorous flora, but my tastes are slightly more macabre, and oftentimes less alive."

Wednesday watched as the man stopped himself short of snapping his pen in half. This frustration seemed very real, and not at all like an idle comment born from curiosity. "I am not known for my optimism," she replied, taking another sip of her coffee. This seemed like an interesting way to pass the time, and she would be lying to herself if she was not a little bit intrigued by this possible 'evil'. "Why do you have to? And what evil do you speak of?"

Wednesday watched as the man stopped himself short of snapping his pen in half. This frustration seemed very real, and not at all like an idle comment born from curiosity. "I am not known for my optimism," she replied, taking another sip of her coffee. This seemed like an interesting way to pass the time, and she would be lying to herself if she was not a little bit intrigued by this possible 'evil'. "Why do you have to? And what evil do you speak of?"

The admiration in the woman's voice amused Wednesday. Many would have run away screaming at the mention of the Manor beside the cemetery, but it seemed as though this woman was more intrigued than anything else. She believed this was not normal, but it was amusing all the same. "Gracey Manor is currently owned by my family. The Addams Family." The Manor suited the Addams family just fine, and it was horrifyingly reminiscent of their home back in New Jersey. Over the years, she had found herself more comfortable within those walls, although she could never quite forget that at times the Manor was more like a macabre cage.

She gave a side-eyed glance at the brunette, meeting the gentle smile with her own impassive expression. "The classical music would be preferable." However, classical music was not the only music that she enjoyed, and her gaze fell upon an unnoticed copy of L.A Woman. Deft fingers plucked it up, and internally she smiled as she noted that the vinyl was the complete album, and not just the single. "Shall we continue searching?"

The admiration in the woman's voice amused Wednesday. Many would have run away screaming at the mention of the Manor beside the cemetery, but it seemed as though this woman was more intrigued than anything else. She believed this was not normal, but it was amusing all the same. "Gracey Manor is currently owned by my family. The Addams Family." The Manor suited the Addams family just fine, and it was horrifyingly reminiscent of their home back in New Jersey. Over the years, she had found herself more comfortable within those walls, although she could never quite forget that at times the Manor was more like a macabre cage.

She gave a side-eyed glance at the brunette, meeting the gentle smile with her own impassive expression. "The classical music would be preferable." However, classical music was not the only music that she enjoyed, and her gaze fell upon an unnoticed copy of L.A Woman. Deft fingers plucked it up, and internally she smiled as she noted that the vinyl was the complete album, and not just the single. "Shall we continue searching?"

Adria Arjona