THE CLEARING

                        𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍 .

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visage / aesthetics / sound / media / starter tag / interaction tag / connections

BASIC INFORMATION.

full name: Leland Warner Graves nicknames: Lee age: Thirty-six birthdate: November 12th, 1985 zodiac: ☀ Scorpio  | ☾ Scorpio  | ↑ Cancer birth place: London, England hometown: Portland, Oregon current residence: Eureka, California how long have they been living here for: 1 year ethnicity: Caucasian nationality: British / American gender & pronouns: Cis-Male — He/Him/His orientation: Heterosexual

-

It wasn’t two seconds after receiving the waffle, had practically ripped open the top of the to-go container. Leland truly made the best waffles, and no matter how many she had, Olivia always craved more. “I like to think he gets his looks from me.” She grinned, as her eyes glanced down at the infant as she tore open the syrup packet and poured it over the waffle, before cutting off a piece and popping it into her mouth. So good. 

“Do you want to hold him?” She asked, before popping another piece of the pastry into her mouth. “He just ate, so he should be pretty calm,” Olivia mentioned, wanting to assure him that the baby wouldn’t start wailing as soon as he laid into his arms. When Beckett was born - Olivia had almost been afraid to let anyone touch the baby. As if he had been a breakable porcelain doll, too fragile for the world. However, with Teddy, Olivia had been much more relaxed. 

Liv let out a small chuckle at the question, before giving an answer. “Exhausted and so unbelievably hungry. Probably, because for the 9 hours I was in labor, all I could eat was ice chips. So rude.” 

-

“He definitely does, look at that—” A sense of joy rushed over him, glancing down at this little guy. As typical as it was, it truly was like looking at the highest degree of innocence. This kid hadn’t even seen the outside world just yet. Leland had high hopes for this kid. He was always going to have a supportive family. There was going to be so much love backing him up. It was heart warming, really. And above all else, Leland knew that he’d do anything for them. “He’s got the same little annoying grin that you do. Or maybe it’s just gas. Who knows?”

Just as he hadn’t really been in the presence of a baby in quite some time, Leland especially hadn’t held one. “Oh, uh—” But this was going to be a nephew to him, essentially, “Uh— yeah, actually. I’d love to.” 

Rising to his feet, wanting Liv to sit there and rest, he placed his hands on the top of the crib. “Well, now you can have whatever the hell you want— you just lemme know—” and he would get her whatever she craved. That was going to be the rest of the sentence, though Leland was a little distracted with the idea of how he even began to pick up a baby. 

He was so fresh, so fragile— Leland would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous. “So, like, do I just kinda... pick him up, and what? Like, do I put him against my chest? Do I cradle him like a football?”

🖋

For years she’d dealt with her thoughts and feelings by spinning them into lyrics, processing them by turning them into songs and melodies. Not all those songs had been recorded or even sung in to an audience but she had still acknowledged and processed her emotions. She wasn’t quite sure at what point she’d stopped. When exactly it had become too difficult to come to terms with what she was feeling. All she knew is she had started choosing numbness over everything else, preferring it to the ache that her life in LA had begun to give her.

It had helped initially and she’d convinced herself that it had been what she’d needed to do to cope with the situation she’d found herself in. But now all she felt she was left with was a distance between herself and her emotions as well as  It had formed some kind of self fulfilling prophecy - she neglected her music and then she ignored her feelings and rinse and repeat. 

The art gallery had seemed like a good solution, a way to reach out to her creativity after so long pushing it away. But instead it had just highlighted the distance she was already feeling but she’s relieved when he confirmed that she wasn’t the only one struggling to find the purpose of the piece. “Yeah -” Head tilts to the side before she continues, sounding more convinced. “- I think that might be it.” Eyes squint slightly as she scrutinises the artwork some more before deciding that confusion is probably the closest she’d get to figuring out her feelings on it. “They do say art should make you feel something, guess I just wasn’t expecting that.” 

-

To be honest— he wasn’t expecting it either. This whole numbness he had been experiencing wasn’t favourable. Not that it would be for anyone else, he was sure; but typically once this sensation came around, Leland would drown it out with opposing substances. Whatever he could get his hands on to brighten the mood, or at least make him drowsy enough to forget it. 

He tried to let go of the intrusive thought that this painting was beginning to mock him— which was more than not just his own frustration of not being able to gather a meaning about the art itself. But as Lee stood there, glancing away, the tinge of irritation just bubbled below the surface. 

It was fine, though— it was fine. In due time, he would feel something again. His brain would become clear, the fog would rise, and he could meditate within art once again. Just as he used to.

It seemed as though the woman beside him was in a similar position. So that had to be something he could relate to— that was a plus. “I get that— I’ve been looking at this piece for the last couple of minutes, and I’m just getting fed up at this point. The meaning of confusion is just to get by at this point.” He paused, glancing towards her, “Maybe it’s a fatigue thing?” A hopeful response, though it was very much a lie. “Maybe that’s why we’re not seeing the clearer image?”

lee: yeah isnt it like every two hours or something?

lee: im happy to hear that

lee: you deserve it

florence: something like that, yeah

florence: she's a lot like me, gets very angry when she's hungry and being denied something she wants

lee: woof

lee: then you'll have alot on your hands aye?

lee: you being hungry is one of the most terrifying things to see

lee: thats actually the real reason i was cooking every two seconds

SONIA: Hey!

SONIA: I didn't see you at group last night. Just wanted to check in 😇

LEE: im alive lol

LEE: one of the other cooks quit the other week and its been crazy since then

LEE: ive had to pick up more hours on my typical off days

-

“Right? My thoughts exactly. I mean, I’m also glad it’s not as easy as just walking up to someone and asking them to be friends anymore because that would be slightly terrifying, but… you know. An icebreaker is always nice.” Romy stopped herself from rambling on even more, her eyes falling to the ground awkwardly. This man was for sure going to avoid her like the plague starting tomorrow. 

“Smoking is terrible, but I’ll refrain from judgement. Well, starting now. I just had to get that out,” she said with a chuckle. She wasn’t too worried about smoke hurting her garden, especially outside, but she appreciated the thought nonetheless. “I guess we’ll be seeing each other out there quite a bit then.” 

Guilt washed over her when she saw the disappointment on his face. Her compulsive need to be liked by everyone made it so that she hated being the bearer of bad news and this definitely seemed to be bad news judging by his expression. “I mean, she can complain all she wants, but you’re still aloud to like… live. As long as the entire building isn’t shaking, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Her smile brightened when he inquired about her boutique. “In Old Town. You should stop by.”

—

“No worries, I get it—” Smoking was terrible; that was true. He had heard it from most of the well-rounded people in his life. But hey, at least it wasn’t coke. Though— she wasn’t going to get the background of that joke, so he’d keep it to himself. “Trust me, my mother would be clutching her chest if she knew how much I smoked.” That, and amongst other vices. 

“Unfortunately, I am very much the, uh—” Leland paused, a faint smirk curling onto the corners of his lips, “Building-shaking music listener. So, ah well— I guess I’ll create my very first unit-enemy. Might be funny.”

“I definitely will. Might have to start a small collection of plants if this—” He motioned to the one in his arms, lifting it up ever so slight, “ends up well.”

&

She looked away for a long moment, instead watching one of the baristas as she busied herself juggling multiple drink orders. Given their brief history together as groupmates, she had no reason to suspect that any judgement would be passed on his end, but it was a deeply ingrained fear of hers that didn’t just go away because logic was introduced – no, that would be far too easy. The oh that fell from his lips wasn’t any indication of something other than a simple response to the long-winded story she had just blurted out in the middle of a damn coffee shop, but as always she began to read into it, her mind racing with a billion possibilities of the true meaning behind the utterance…

…but then he moved on. Just like that. As if she’d merely spoken about the weather outside, or what she’d worn the day prior. A simple acknowledgement, one that came without condemnation or pity – she’d burned her own home down, for god’s sake – but instead, nothing. And it was great.

“It wasn’t just ‘cause I didn’t like any of the apartment buildings around here,” she tossed back sarcastically, flashing him a toothy smile. “She really is. She’s the closest thing I have to family these days,” Sonia mentioned. “I do like it. It’s given me something more than just a warm bed, y’know? Like, I have responsibilities and a lot of what Isla Jean doesn’t get too falls on me. I don’t think I could have asked for a better situation even if I tried.” The woman lifted her shoulders in a shrug, chuckling lightly then. 

“Favorite part? God, I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that. Probably the location. Nothing quite like wakin’ up to the sound of waves each morning.” Sonia had always loved the beach, and getting to look out her window each morning to see the ocean was as luxurious as it got for her – even if she was always on the clock.

As their drinks set on the counter, Sonia felt her smart watch buzz and lifted her wrist to meet her gaze. “Speaking of,” she let out a sigh, eyes flitting back up to meet Leland’s. “I gotta head back. Someone just called out so I have to play receptionist tonight.” She felt a pang of disappointment hit her, having enjoyed the short time they’d been speaking – but duty called to her. “I can – um, take my tote back.” Sonia said, reaching out to take her items back from his grasp.

“I’ll see you around then, yeah? Maybe outside of group if you’re ever feeling like you need another coffee talk?”

—

⚾

A lack of clarity was something that was rarely associated with him given the way he’d never been shy of being honest or making his opinions known, but this time he felt like he was responsible for the confusion. “I’d put money on me being barely audible. My attention was on this - “ He held up his phone and as if on cue it buzzed to life again, undoubtedly Charlie asking how long he’d be. “- rather than you.” Nod was given to the question. “Yeah we’ll go for everything, you’d think my wife was starving. You got any suggestions for good extras?”

At the other man’s words he chuckled, quick to agree when despite enjoying being a teacher and a coach, after a day of renovating he couldn’t imagine anything worse. “You and me both. They’re all great kids but I’m always glad they go back to their own homes.” 

—

“I can throw in some onion rings for you guys— especially right on that burger. It’s a beautiful thing, my friend. But I’ll put them on the side so they don’t get soft on you guys. Just remember to sandwich them in right before. It’s a nice little crunch.” Pausing for a moment, Leland quickly added in, “Oh— and we got some chili fries happening. I’m not trying to boast, they’re actually pretty damn good.” 

“They are a great bunch,” Leland agreed— though, he still could remember what he ( and the rest of classmates ) was like back in those years, “but at their age, they’re reckless with words, man. They can really just go for the jugular. I’m like— how did y’all even come up with some of these things to say? Incredible. I wouldn’t wanna be walkin’ those halls nowadays. I’d get stuffed into a locker. No doubt.”

“— So, what’s bringing you in here at this hour?” The question seemed fair enough to ask, since Leland barely saw Nate outside of normal daylight time. 

Sitting back, Noah could feel himself relax for the first time this evening. Perhaps it was the prospect of a hot cup of coffee, or the fact that he now knew he wouldn’t have to sit on hot coals to wait on his shipment, which would still take a while. Or perhaps it was watching the man in front of him, who worked with practiced ease. It was something he could easily admire. Not that there was something wrong with fumbling about, it happened, of course, but knowing one’s way around your workplace made one’s movements so much more fluent and flowing. “Thanks for putting on a new pot, I really appreciate it,” Noah said eventually, “I might need most of it to not doze off right where I sit. It’s been a long day.”

“Are you sure, mate?” As the owner of a restaurant, he knew the cost involving coffee, and while not much, it didn’t seem like Rosie’s Diner would make much money from him tonight, if he were to drink the whole. “Thank you, really. I don’t mind paying for it, though. I am using your place, after all, to wait it out.” While he could have stayed at his restaurant, this seemed like the nicer alternative. Less work was waiting here. It was less lonely, too.

The question had him perk up and smile at Leland. “I’m waiting for boxes of fresh seafood,” he replied, “I wanted to use it in tomorrow’s menu. Luckily for me, they come delivered on dry ice, so they should be good, even with this delay.” If not, he would have to get up early to get to the fish market and find something he could work with on the fly. Put off, he made a slight face and promptly banished the thought. “I’m a chef, I own my own place.” Waving his hand vaguely in the direction of where the Beijinho Doce was, he added, “it’s just down the road, actually.” A proud smile flitted over his face; even a year after opening the doors for the first time, he still marvelled that he had achieved his dream, and all of his own on top of it all. “What about you? What do you do at Rosie’s? Apart from waiting on blokes like me desperate for a coffee fix.“

—

“It’s a company thing—” Free refills on all drinks. Didn’t really matter what they were— Well, okay... minus the milkshakes. But those were categorized under desserts, anyways. “So, don’t sweat it. Plus, if you don’t drink it... well, it’ll just go to waste. And that right there is sad in itself.” 

Ah— a fellow industry worker. A higher-scaled industry worker, but still. Leland always thought it would probably be incredibly interesting working in one of those kinds of places. You know, the ones where the menus change quite frequently, and you’re not constantly asking if people would like fries as a side. Not that he was trying to diss Rosie’s. It was a solid job, and they gladly took him back even after his little stint in rehab. “Very cool, man— chef,” Leland smirked a tad, giving the fellow a bit of a salute. “Mind me askin’ what it’s called?”

“Typically I’m behind the scenes—” He answered, motioning back towards the kitchen serving window, “Just a line cook. Not by trade, just by happen stance. No fancy training on my end. But, uh— we were kinda stood up tonight by a few of the waitstaff...so here I am, in all of my glory. Tryna get through this shift.”

TASK 003 ; FLORENCE HASTINGS — @flohastings

florence: honestly i barely leave her side, so it would be nothing personal if i didn't

florence: she needs to feed, like, constantly

florence: i'm okay

florence: it just feels like i've found a purpose for the first time since i stopped acting

lee: yeah isnt it like every two hours or something?

lee: im happy to hear that

❦

“Don’t I know it,” Ivy said with a sympathetic grin. She had the sense that there was slightly more to the story than that, than simply being busy, but she was also all-too-familiar with having things happen that you didn’t want to talk about, at that time, or in that place, or maybe even with that person. Sometimes you just needed to talk about something, anything else, and she could set aside her own curiosity about whatever it might be in service of that. In solidarity with that. She nodded; it made sense that he was new to taking orders, ( if not working at Rosie’s Diner, ) though it would be rude to say as much. “And how do you like it?” she asked, grinning. “Being out front, I mean. But I gotta say, even though it turned out like this, I hope you’re getting overtime or something for filling in like this.”

Ivy did as she was told, sliding into one of the empty seats at the counter, watching, curiously, at the process involved in operating the milkshake machine. “Work hasn’t been new, exactly,” she demurred, though she was perfectly happy to take the cue, and refrain from further elaboration on that topic. “But, uh, I don’t know. I guess things must be, but right now all I know is the fry oil smells like heaven. Which is not something I ever thought I’d say.”

—

“Uh—” Now, Leland took a second to think about how he wanted to answer this. Was he just going to continue with the stereotype of being fine, or was he going to answer truthfully? There wasn’t anything wrong with being honest— to an extent. And after all, it was Ivy; he was comfortable enough with her to rely some of his thoughts. “It’s alright, I guess. Well— actually, I kinda hate it? It’s just not as satisfying as being in the kitchen is, but, uh— what can ya do?” Leland preferred an actual conversation anyways; he sort of hated small talk ( though, he would participate in it as much as the next person would ). 

“Fry oil always smells like heaven,” His eyes darted back towards her, glancing over his shoulder, with a cheeky grin curling onto his lips. Turning back to his station, Leland pulled out the tub of icecream, scooping it out into the cup of the machine. “I get that, though. Sometimes a whole mess of shit can go down, but it doesn’t end up feeling like a lot to note out loud.”

-

Leland had become a part of the Watson family and even attended family dinners every now and then. He also became Olivia’s favorite face mask partner, and he even let her paint his toes at one point. So, it had been no surprise to anyone that he was one of the first people to come to visit her, and little Teddy in the hospital after the delivery. “Honestly, he needed sleep. I think he might be more exhausted than I am.” James had been the one to take her to the hospital when her water had broke, and of course, stayed through the delivery process. Olivia couldn’t be more grateful, because she wasn’t sure if she would have been able to make it through without him. 

“Waffles!” She exclaimed in a soft tone and gave a small smile. “Life savor, truly.”  Reaching out her arms to gratefully accept the care package that was presented by Leland. 

—

Leland had a feeling that he would get this reaction from her; his waffles worked every damn time. Not to toot his own horn, but toot toot. After years of making them, he had his own recipe down pat; though, the foundation was always based around his mother’s. Maybe she made the best ones. 

Walking around the hospital bed, he quickly glanced at his surroundings prior to his eyes landing on the small little human in the crib. Lips turned up into a light smile as he sat down in the nearest chair, head still turned towards young Teddy. “Look at this little guy,” Lee muttered out in a whisper, “He’s pretty damn cute. I’ll give ya that.” 

Lifting one knee up, foot resting against the cushion of the chair, he allowed his hand to rest against the framing of the crib. “So,” He paused, eyes flickering back towards Liv, “How’re ya feeling, momma? You know, besides the hunger I just cured?”

⛈

“I mean, you do have the whole zombie look going for you, but also…I’ve worked way too many night shifts not to recognize it in someone else.  No need to apologize,”  She replied with a kind smile.  She remembered the days of late nights where it felt like the only thing playing in her head was elevator music, exhausted from whatever job she had done during the day.  She imagined she definitely had had the same look about her as the man did in front of her.  While she was glad that her days of taking whatever job and hours she could find were behind her, she also was thankful for those days.  They taught her a lot about herself.  That she could live on her own terms, without the constant pushing of her parents.  She could provide for and take care of herself, even if it had meant 16 hour days, and 6 day work weeks.      

It had also given her the time to build up her own confidence, and courage.  Enough so that she was finally able to leave the comfort of those jobs behind and take a leap of faith, jumping into the unknown of an unstable job, but one she loved, with only a prayer that it would all work itself out, eventually. 

“Mind if I take the counter?  I’ll keep you awake if you keep me awake while I wait?” She was only….half serious.  But she did have the sneaking suspicion that if she sat down in a booth she’d be lights out before her food came out.  “Oh yeah, busy season is about to hit and i’m drowning.  Or, well, rather trying to keep from drowning,” she snorted at her own joke, despite it not being all that funny, “I run kayaking and boating tours out in the bay,” she explained.

—

Luckily enough for Leland, he was met with quite the understanding during his shift tonight. Not that he predicted a major push back, or anything of the sort; but if there was going to be one night where he came face to face with a vengeful Karen-type, he wouldn’t have been surprised if this was the one. 

Glancing over his shoulder, Lee muttered out the following words with a gentle grin, “Go right ahead— you got yourself a deal.” Having someone to chat with was going to be a nice little change. Usually around this time, it was people who had stumbled in after drinking a tad too much, or maybe the occasional trucker who was just passing through. Other than that, pretty lowkey; pretty silent. Prior to his sobriety, he may have gone in the back and had a little pick-me-up— which would then lead to a hazy memory the following morning. Waking up on the produce shelf had happened too many times before. 

TASK 003 ; LELAND GRAVES — p a s t

&

Making new friends had always been hard for her, but these days it seemed damn near impossible with Sonia’s own fear of self-sabotage. Sure, she was sober, but there were all these lingering insecurities around meeting people and the stressors that came with it – would they be put off by her destructive past? Would they hear about what a shitty person she was from another source, someone she had done wrong by? Sonia didn’t want to be judged, and yet she also didn’t want to pretend that her past didn’t exist. 

It was an odd middle ground to find herself in, but as she stepped side by side with Leland, it finally felt like for the first time in a long time, she could have her cake and eat it too.

She couldn’t remember the last time she talked so openly with someone about – well – everything. There was Vinnie, sure, but he didn’t understand her situation like Leland did. It was refreshing, like coming up for air. Sonia didn’t realize how much she’d been holding in until now – and they were merely stopping for coffee. “No skin off my back,” she assured with a grin, walking to the other end of the counter after the barista handed her card back to her. 

Lips pressing into a line, she was tempted to dodge the question entirely – after all, discussing her rock bottom wasn’t something she enjoyed doing, and even in group she didn’t discuss the details. But – what was the harm now? He’d opened up to her and she hadn’t faulted him for it. For some reason, she trusted that Leland would extend the same courtesy to her. “I don’t mind,” Sonia said after a moment, a small yet awkward grin spreading across her cheeks. 

“I kinda didn’t have much of a choice,” she began, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “I…lost my house. My grandfather’s house. I left a cigarette lit in my bedroom before going out on a Saturday night, came home hungover the next morning to fire trucks and police cars and…nothing else.” Only three years ago, but it still stung. “I didn’t really have anywhere else to go. I had shit insurance so I could only afford to stay somewhere for a couple of weeks – so I chose the inn, I pretty much detoxed in a room by myself – couldn’t even afford to by a drink if I wanted too – and Isla Jean somehow took pity on me and…” Sonia moistened her lower lip, meeting his gaze finally before repeating, “…like I said. I didn’t have a choice.  If it wasn’t for her, though, I don’t know what the hell I would’ve done with myself.”

—

As he stood there, listening to her story, Leland almost wanted to kick himself in the teeth. Not for the fact that he had begged the question— no. Simply for the fact that he had been complaining about his own tale; never truly realizing how others might have gotten here. And she essentially had to do it on her own. At least he had the privilege to go to a place that could help him. He couldn’t imagine how god-awful that process without rehab could have been. 

Leland could remember back to a time where he had been low, almost reaching the sensation of a withdrawal, and it was too much already. Actually going through that without medical assistance? No— no, he wouldn’t have been strong enough for that. He would have broke in two seconds flat. 

So, at least with this new insight — maybe not that it would matter to her — but the male definitely had a new found respect for the woman beside him. “Oh,” Lee muttered, trying his best to collect his thoughts. 

Pity wasn’t something that he wanted to express, nor even step close to. Stating his sorrow would have done just that. And knowing with everyone in group, the one thing they could all relate to was their shared annoyance towards I’m sorry’s.

All that he had left was, “Damn— I was wonderin’ how you ended up there. Guess I got my answer. A two for one.” A sad excuse for a joke, but sometimes all you could do to make things better was find some subtle sense of humour. “From what you’ve mentioned, she sounds like a pretty amazing person. I’m glad it worked out that way. — You like being there? What’s your favourite part?”

Maybe the last two things were used to camouflage the heavier topic, but Lee didn’t want to waddle in it. He didn’t want her to have to dwell; all thanks to his never-ending curiosity. 

SONIA: well halloween is like 6 months away we have plenty of time to plan

SONIA: you better believe it. theres a screening room at the inn that has a huuuuge tv we could watch it. perks of living in a hotel!

SONIA: thanks again for letting me distract you at work

SONIA: it helped

LEE: a screening room? damn thats actually pretty cool

LEE: i'll bring the popcorn

LEE: anytime ☺️ it was fun so thanks for helping me pass the time