paulineradcliffe - Tumblr blog

[paulineradcliffe]

[ ooc - - leaving message ;.; ]

hey dudes, i'm sorry i've got to say this, but i'm going to drop pauline. i feel really anxious all the time lately, related to outside things, but it's leaking into me playing polly. i will still be playing anthea, and i'm going to be applying for a male in the next day or so.

i feel really bad, but i just don't know if i can cope with this anxiety that drags on behind me playing on this character account. i hope everyone can forgive me u ^ u!!!!

if you want to maybe play with me outside of CV, as well, (with pauline), feel free to ask me! i hope this bit is okay to say, but yes. i have a ton of muse for pauline, but i just am too anxious. so to the two/three ppl i was plotting with, i'd be happy to maybe continue something over google docs or IM or something!!

thanks for playing with polly while i had her here, though!! i appreciate it. 

*worms my way over to anthea's blog*

[paulineradcliffe]

[ ✿, ooc — status update!!! ]

heyooo! okay so lately you can see that i've been really lacking in activity and even i have stated i will try and pick up...my body fails to agree with this idea!!!!!! over the past three days (not including last night) i probably got about 5 hours of sleep, and then last night i slept over 14 hours and woke up at 5PM today...eek.

so!!!! i'm going to be giving in to this silly game of tug and war and staying up all night and getting some threads up / plotting with online peeps.

also, welcome to the new babs!!! i had a dream last night where i robbed my old highschool and burned all of my report cards even though i haven't been in a school for over three years now what

ahhh yes so this is pauline, i also play anthea spencer-clarke, and i am tea!!!!!! i hope we can be kawaii as heck friendsies and also make our characters adore one another. 

[paulineradcliffe]

Pauline noted the sudden shift of the other's expression. It made her a bit sad, and very wary, that the smile was near-wiped clean from her face. Pauline's own smile faded to a neutral stance as she waited for the other to introduce herself. Or maybe not.

But when she offered up her name as Brian, Polly felt a little bit better. Though, not completely, since she knew the sort to keep themselves locked away from others -- she, herself, was one of those types. Pauline looked down to her sore feet and adjusted the bags in her grip.

"Hope he'll like it," Polly meekly replied. "I'm just shopping for some clothes, though...I, um, I doubt I'll find much more, heh..." She trailed off awkwardly, and shuffled her feet. It was a good idea to wear sneakers. 

When the elevator door opened on the fourth floor, Brian started to exit. Pauline didn't want to put any more pressure on either herself or the other female, so she stayed put. The curt notice of the floor being hers, Pauline knew to just stay her distance. It wasn't worth the humiliation if something bad happened. "Alright, well -- um, it...was nice laughing with you," she tried. A soft smile, albeit slightly forced, made its way unto her lips.

You've Gotta Be Tooting Me! • Brian & Polly

Brian had managed to contain herself and her laughter after a few moments. Remnants of it settled into a smile. A smile was not something that graced her lips often when it came to meeting strangers, but the laughter that she had shared with this woman allowed Brian to give her such. The stranger should only think herself so lucky, the deep, horrible parts of Brian thought, as she was meeting the version of Brian that Brian did not hate. She was a spun version of many different selves. More often than not, people met the versions of her that she, too, hated; this woman was lucky.

However, that was not enough for Brian to completely trust the woman before her. It was something to laugh at a shared experience, but another thing altogether to share private information about one another. Brian, even in her likable state, did not easily trust; just as she believed herself not to be trusted. When the woman introduced herself as Pauline and began small talk, a small alarm began to ring inside Brian’s head. She was not this woman’s friend, just as this woman was not hers. They were strangers, and strangers they will be.

Despite the distance she set herself with, Brian managed a smile towards the woman. It was a smaller smile now, more guarded and wary, but it was a smile nonetheless. “I’m Brian,” she said with a tip of her head and then a purse of her lips. “And – oh – just something for my dad. You?”

By this time, the elevator had stopped on the fourth floor, and Brian began to make her way out. “This is my floor, actually.” Whomever this woman was and whatever conversation might have occurred between her Brian would now have to be cut short as Brian had to leave, though she questioned the probability that the woman would get off the elevator on the same level as her.

[paulineradcliffe]

The blonde couldn't stop laughing, which made Pauline unable to stop; she held both her cheeks now, and could feel them growing hotter as each laugh squeaked out. "Can you -- can you imagine if he didn't get off when he did?" she asked through her laughter, warm tears springing to the corners of her eyes. Goodness, if she kept up, Pauline wouldn't be able to breathe.

She continued laughing as the blonde laughed, but tried to contain herself after the first tiny squeak escaped. Pauline held onto her mouth with both hands, her shoulders bouncing in rhythm to the now quieted laughter.

"It shouldn't be, no -- b-but it is!" Pauline replied to the female's acknowledgement. It was borderline inappropriate to laugh this hard at such a tiny thing, but in the moment, it didn't matter. Polly hadn't laughed with someone this wholly in ages; it felt good to just let loose. But not too loose. At that thought, she almost started up again. 

"I'm, um, Pauline," she offered gently. Her voice was softer and more calm than before, her nerves settling in coolly below the surface. "What did you come here to buy?" Pauline hated small talk, but thought if she had laughed that hard over a man passing gas, the other female must have been someone fun.

You've Gotta Be Tooting Me! • Brian & Polly

It was of a relief to Brian that the woman with her in the elevator had begun laughing as well. It was nice to know — how horrible this act was, nevertheless — that someone dared laugh with her, even if it meant breaking the normal conduct for social graces. But then again, the person who had just passed wind that loudly in public broke proper conduct first, and thus neither Brian nor this woman with her could be blamed for their actions to follow.

As the woman spoke and giggled, Brian couldn’t help but laugh some more. Her laugh was unbridled, the kind that came not from truly being happy, but rather because something was funny. It would pass, she knew, just as any other funny moments passed. But for now, she would have it. Brian dared have it with this woman. At the woman’s words, Brian managed a nod despite laughter, and tried to stop herself as the woman’s giggles slowed.

However, her attempt was futile. As soon as she tried to reply, laughter once more burst from her lips. “I — oh my god”—Brian clasped a hand to her mouth, thus muffling her words—”oh my god.” She laughed some more, allowing all of it to escape her until she finally caught her self silent. There. For a moment or two, no laughter came from her. Until, of course, the moment passed, and laughter — smaller, more quiet — came from her again.

"Oh god, I can’t believe, he did that!" Now, she could control her laughter rather than the other way around. "He probably hoped it wasn’t so loud. But oh my god. Just… oh my god.” Brian looked at the woman before her again, and once more started laughing. “I’m sorry! I’m sor—” She pursed her lips to stop the laughter, and then took a deep breath.

One. Two. Inhale. Exhale. "I’m laughing so much. It shouldn’t even be that funny." Brian gestured wildly before finally bringing a hand to her cheek. "Okay, I’m okay. I’m fine. Wow."

[paulineradcliffe]

the great escape — [ covered by ] cœur de pirate

hey child, things are looking down. that's okay, you don't need to win anyways. don't be afraid, just eat up all the gray, and it will fade all away. don't let yourself fall down.

[paulineradcliffe]

Mr Derane seemed really hesitant to go first. Well, rightly so; anyone with half a brain could feel the uneasy sensation of hair-on-end when approaching the basement, and if he was going to trick her into going down the steps first...Pauline's heart raced up into her throat. 

He kept looking back at her, as if ready to throw her down the steps in sacrifice to the grouch that lived in the blackness. Pauline bit her lip, terrified of the thought. It was then when Mr Derane asked if he should know anything. A nervous, flighty laugh escaped her. Pauline's hands shot up to her mouth and her eyes went wide. 

"N-no! No, no...no...not at all!" she stammered out desperately. "It's not like I have a creepy torture dungeon down there, or anything!" Another nervous laugh trickled out of her. Gosh, if she kept this up, the man would surely phone the police out of suspicion. "I really, um -- I really don't! Just...uh...there's, like, this guy? Down there? Who's dead." When she realised what she said, a squeak bubbled at the back of her throat. "N-no! Not, not dead, as in I killed him, or anything -- but dead as in, uh, well -- he was already hanging out down there when I moved in! He's a ghost!" Pauline was frantic in her confession, trying to keep all blame of murder off of her.

She must have seemed crazy. Maybe she was. Mr Derane seemed rational enough not to believe in all that mumbo-jumbo, but Pauline did, and it was enough to freak her out. If he didn't want to believe in the ghost down there, then that was fine; Pauline would just hover near the stairs just in case anything did happen.

not the best at holding hammers, polly & charles

There’d been a brusque shift in the feel of the conversation the moment Charles suggested going to the lower ground floor to check the bases. Pauline Radcliffe’s anxieties remained the same, but fairly more concentrated, particularly aimed to that hall leading to what Charles supposed would be a set of stairs and the basement. He tilted his head at her words, brows slightly furrowed, an “Um…” of confusion right before a shrug, “… okay, I’ll go first.”

He started to sense it then. The girl was hiding something from him. He didn’t know what but he’d eventually find out. If this allegedly harmless girl turned out to be a murderer, Charles would not be the idiot to give his back to her. He walked with cautious steps across the hall, glancing sparingly at her in case she’d somehow disappear or run away or, god forbid, pull out the jackknife. “Is there anything else I should know about this house, Miss Radcliffe?” he made a pause, “Or yourself?”

On the other hand, why would she call someone that’d have to check the foundations if she was hiding a rotting corpse there? It had to be something else… and he’d give her the choice to admit it herself before going in there. The pair had remained relatively impersonal until that moment, just a worker and his client, but he’d not be able to keep that layer of professional disinterest if the girl continued to fidget. His eyes drifted to the hall, seeing not much out of place—save of course for the darkness and decrepit state of things.

[paulineradcliffe]

Pauline felt almost worried that the man was being so friendly. She had never been good at filtering out who was friend or foe, and so the anxiety welled in her throat. He gave her his name, and Pauline sucked her lips into a thin line. A nod.

"That's, uh...neat," she replied to his remark about names. Pauline didn't know what else to say. "So, um...what brings you this far out of town? Just passing through, or...?" She wondered why anyone would drop by her aunt's crappy gas station, especially at this time of night. It was a shabby little thing with barely enough room to sit down. 

Hayden placed his hands in his pockets. There was a tiny part of him — the part of him who was still a journalist —that was slightly disappointed she didn’t go into detail about the little kid hiding in  her cellar. In his mind, stories like those were worthy of at least a minute of airtime on the five o’clock news. In response to her words, Hayden nodded, then said,  "I tend to ramble and ask one too many personal questions. So if I need to shut up, please let me know. It won’t bother me at all. "

His eyes  curiously scanned the inside of the tiny gas station, while she spoke. Driving during nights wasn’t really his style. But today  he was supposed to meet his old friend, Roger, at a restaurant to talk business. Hayden knew his friend would be extremely late — as always — and he basically had all the time in the world to talk to (possibly bored) strangers.  The place seemed like any ole’ gas station, by the looks of it. He however was well accustomed to the whole ‘looks can be deceiving’ thing most places had. So he kept himself from silently thinking the place was nothing special.

"I know what you mean — even if I’ve never really liked or understood the phrase in question." He replied with a half-grin. In an attempt to be friendly, he placed his hand out for the strange girl —who reminded him of Winona Ryder’s character in Beatle Juice, for some reason — to shake. "I’m Hayden. It’s nice to meet you, Pauline." He scratched the side of his nose, right before twisting his mouth in confusion. "Don’t understand why I wouldn’t want to know your name, though. I mean, people are are fascinating and names are extremely remarkable things." In attempt to show he wasn’t bothered by the introduction, he gave the young woman a hard nod. 

[paulineradcliffe]

Pauline swallowed a thick lump that was forming on her tongue the entire time he spoke. His voice was gruff, and almost unfriendly, but his words were not unkind. It confused her internal radar of who was friend, and who was foe. Mr Derane asked about the basement, and Polly almost outright refused him. She clamped down on her bottom lip, desperate not to allow him down there.

She wasn't sure who the hell lived in the basement, but it wasn't something nice, and Pauline didn't want to subject the man to that sort of treatment. Hosts should always be pleasant to guests, that was something her aunt had engrained into her mind. To think that this (hopefully) kind man would be introduced to a rotten hag of a ghost...Pauline shuddered and tried to stand in the way of his sight. She hadn't been in the basement since the first few weeks of living in this home, and it was a scary thought to have to go down there again.

When asked how old the house was, though, Pauline was happy to tell him exactly. "It's, um, it's one-hundred-and-thirty-one years standing, Mister Derane...I know that, because, um...my aunt deals with real estate, and I've got the deed to this place in my study." She paused, thinking over what she had possibly suggested. "B-but, but, um -- ! I don't, um...why sh-should we go in there? Heh, it's...just a silly d-deed...right?" Pauline glanced over her shoulder towards the hall that led to the basement.

After she watched the man glance around the main part of the first storey, she felt really nauseated. A small, nervous giggle fluttered out of her as he told her 'ladies first.' There was no way to convince her enough to go down into that basement willingly, especially not first. "Uh...h-how...how about, um...you...go first?" she suggested meekly, her voice very soft, terror laced within each word. Pauline gave him a doe-eyed stare before turning around slowly to lead him to the basement door.

not the best at holding hammers, polly & charles

Charles contained the chuckle that’d threatened to take over him at the greeting sentence. “Alright would be an overstatement. Or an understatement, however you’d like to see it,” he responded, observing the much shorter (like an entire foot shorter) girl and her compliant manner. She was kind of adorable, truth be told, and not fitting with the house she was living in in the slightest. It was like a teddy bear on a cemetery.

However, as she was the client, she continued to talk and he continued to listen, nodding. “I’d have to see the basement, if that’s okay.” Once he entered the residence, he made a quick examination of his surroundings, just like he’d done so before entering, back when he’d been in the car. “How old is this house, Miss Radcliffe? If you know it, of course.”

Because it seemed ancient and hardly ever habitable. He frowned at the walls, thoughtful expression on his features as he circled the living room. “You’re right. This is not a one day work. We’ll be better off for now if we settle with the minor things, like the electricity if y’are having issues with it or any electronics, to the water system. I’ll make an inventory and list of sorts of things and services you may need for the repairs of them, if I don’t have the time to work on them today or if they are more serious issues than imagined,” he searched for the way toward the basement with his eyes, which ended up landing on the girl herself. “Ladies first.”

[paulineradcliffe]

Super long headcanon post! (I've private'd the original asks and such, so here is a round-up of all the ones Pauline was asked/sent! You can click on the 'said' for the actual posts, if I made them private after public-posting.)

avantgxrde said:

◉ - Any other question of your choosing ( If given the opportunity to space travel, would Pao Pao take the opportunity? ) ( Does Pao Pao believe in miracles? ) ( How does she feel about the "ghosties" in her house? )

If Pauline was called one afternoon and the voice on the other end informed her she won a ticket to space, she would be in her car so fast to pick it up! She would love to visit any sort of planet, but probably Pauline would love to visit Jupiter the most!

In miracles? No. She believes in coincidence, and that's about it. She's not religious, and doesn't really have any sort of faith/belief. 

Pauline really doesn't enjoy their company, but doesn't mind them when they're just doing their own thing. It's like having unsavoury roomies; she just deals with them.

camillemonets said: 

♥ - family headcanon

Pauline isn't very close to her primary family, but enjoys her aunt's company a lot! Her dad was always sort of distant due to his job, and her sister was too annoyed by her to pay much attention. When she moved into her aunt's house, she pampered Pauline nearly to death. Her aunt tried her best to make the girl (and then young woman) as happy as she could, and though she was often busy or preoccupied -- the woman was a better parent than her father had ever been.

deranes said:

☮ oooh (friendship headcanon)

Growing up the way she did, Pauline has never really had any friends. She's uncomfortable getting friendly with people due to past troubles, and has difficulty filtering who is actually nice, and who is only pretending. Despite this, if she were to make any true friends, Pauline would be a dear! She loves very strongly and passionately, and would love to share thoughts and secrets and what not with someone else other than her online diary. She's very afraid of displeasing someone she respects, and that is the main issue she has with making friends (and keeping them). 

anonymous said:

♡ - romantic headcanon

Pauline is a really huge baby when it comes to romance. She’s never even locked eyes with another person she deems attractive for longer than a gentle second. She has a bit of a warped idea of romance and how it should be, due to all of the gothic literature she grew up on. Regardless, if there was ever an opportunity for Pauline to be in that sort of situation with someone else, she would be so terrified of mucking it up that she would most likely avoid them. Pauline often daydreams about people she’s interacted with that she finds sweet or endearing, and they are always over exaggerated. Pauline is too much of a dreamer to actually ever be satisfied by real-life-romance, though she definitely hopes it will come around soon.

anonymous said:

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

Pauline is usually very reserved and quiet, so she tends to hold in all of her anger. She is rarely angry in the first place, since she tries to let everything slide. Forgive and forget, and all that stuff. But if on the rare chance she does get very angry, Pauline will keep it bottled up until it forms into a very sharp-edged grudge. She will continue to bottle it up until one day, she just explodes. That is a time and place you do not want to be caught in, because she usually gets very frantically violent, and will throw/break anything she thinks will give her some release.

logan-navarro said: 

☼ - appearance headcanon

She loves dark coloured clothing, since it’s what she wore all throughout her childhood. Long sleeves, lengthy skirts, and lots of layers. These days, she tries to wear a bit more colour — though the intense covering up of any visible skin is still present. Pauline really hates skin touching skin, and will try to avoid it any means necessary; she’ll wear a tank top and a tee and then a long sleeved shirt, even in the warmer months. Layers are her friend, and Pauline feels they give her a sense of comfort from the outside world.

As for makeup and the like, Pauline rarely wears anything on her face. On occasion, she’ll wear a bit of mascara or lip colour, but only if she feels it’s necessary. Which, usually, it never is. Pauline does keep a very clean face, however, and loves exfoliating cremes and other lotions.

celia-defiore said:

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

[ ooc — I've got to make a post about her living situation, but I'll write up a short description! ]

The house Pauline lives in is quite literally falling apart. She can’t use the third storey or attic due to rot in the wood, and the outside is so atrociously rundown many people just assume the house is still abandoned. Pauline uses a space heater in a few of the rooms she frequents, and practically never uses any of the plumbing (such as the toilet/shower, etc.). She’ll go to her aunt’s home if she needs a shower, and only one of the powder rooms has a functioning toilet + sink. The kitchen is in no state to make anything more than a ham sandwich, and really…the house is unsafe to live in in its current state.

As for tidiness and how she keeps her home, it’s very simple and kept neat. She doesn’t like clutter, though she does collect old clocks. They’re littered all over her home, and the ticking drives any guest she might have crazy.

[paulineradcliffe]

Put a symbol (or several) in my ask box, and I’ll give you a headcanon.

☾ - sleep headcanon

★ - sad headcanon

☆ - happy headcanon

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

✿ - Sex headcanon

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

♡ - romantic headcanon

♥ - family headcanon

☮ - friendship headcanon

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

▼ - childhood headcanon

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

☼ - appearance headcanon

ൠ - random headcanon

◉ - Any other question of your choosing

[paulineradcliffe]

Pauline didn't like venturing off on her own when it came to shops. Woods and old houses and creepy, old attics, sure! But once she had to be around people and loud noises and crying children and the overall messy atmosphere of malls and stores...Pauline shuddered at the thought -- but she had to buy some new clothes.

So, with some money given to her by her aunt, Pauline set off for the mall where she knew she'd find at least a shirt. She had a small list of things she needed, wardrobe-wise, but Pauline was tricky and never liked anything.

She had been walking aimlessly around the mall now for about an hour, and her feet were aching. Pauline held a small bag from a store with a name she couldn't even pronounce, where she had only bought two shirts and a pair of cute underwear.

In the elevator, another female got in, and it rose slowly upwards. As one of the other riders got out, they left behind a gift for the rest of them. Pauline's eyes widened, terrified; it was so out of place to hear someone pass wind, though she gave them a mental award for doing so just as they exited the shaft. The female who had entered the elevator just prior began to laugh, though Pauline thought it was out of surprise. 

When she asked Pauline if it had been her who tooted, Polly let out her own laughter. "Oh, gosh, no! Goodness, no!" Then, in between now uncontrollable giggles, she managed: "If it had been me, I would not be laughing -- I'd be dead of embarrassment!" Pauline held her hand to her cheek, the laughing only trickling out of her now. "It was probably that man, he looked a bit shifty," she added.

you've gotta be tooting me! [ brian + polly ]

It was rare that Brian allowed herself to fancy the consumer-driven world she lived in, much more indulge in it. She did not think capitalism to be her friend, and to live in such a world that circled around it made her ashamed. It made her scrunch her nose in disgust at the private owners that thus monopolized the country’s trade and industry, and more that she should give these people profit simply by taking part in the trade.

But, try as she might to escape this, Brian was a person who lived in such a world. She had needs and wants that required she splurge, though it did not mean that she wanted those at the top of the fiscal food chain to profit even more. But, to be in Landmark Mall, hoping to buy new camera lens for her own desires, meant that she participated — even in directly — in the consumer-driven world that she lived in, and for such, she would forever call herself a hypocrite.

The elevator of the mall was fairly small, but it was also fairly empty, only consisting of three other people and an elevator attendant, when she entered it. Brian knew what she wanted, and she knew what floor it was in; she would not let herself get distracted by the rest of what the mall had to offer. She took her place at the back, choosing to lean against the walls of the elevator as it made its slow ascend to the fourth floor.

The elevator had opened at the second floor to allow the two others with her to exit when she heard it. It was a small, sound; forced to be silent, but not quite reaching one’s goal. Someone had farted! Brian looked around the elevator, now only consisting of herself, the elevator attendant, and a stranger, to see whom it was. It surely wasn’t her! Could it have been the person beside her, or the others that had just exited?

Laughter bubbled in her throat just as she thought of it, but she held it in as she looked to the person that was beside her. There was a wild look in her eyes, the kind that one had when they were trying so hard not to break proper social graces. “I’m sorry”—she said, quickly realizing how that sounded, and thus adding—“I mean! That wasn’t me! I swear.” Now, she couldn’t help but allow the laughter to escape her lips as she explained. “That wasn’t me. Was it you?” The question ended with more laughter on Brian’s lips.

[paulineradcliffe]

The knock frightened her so badly, Pauline practically jumped up off the floor. "Ohmygoodness," she breathed, holding her chest as if it were about to explode. Pauline took a few large steps and unlocked the door with trouble. When it was open, she tried to appear more put together than she was. "H-hullo, Mister Derane," she tried, clearing her throat at the end of it. "Hope, um...y-you found the place alright."

Pauline stood off to the side, allowing the huge man to enter. A really huge man. Pauline stood at just under 5'3", and was not the best at elongating her figure. She felt like a mouse compared to him the moment she got a better look. Honestly, though, his slight scowl was the most intimidating thing above everything else. Pauline tried to smile, and it fell flat almost instantly. 

"So, um...I guess, um, what I'd like to have checked first, maybe, um...Is the f-foundations...?" she meekly asked, not directly asking him, but in general. She was naturally submissive, but asking others for help never ceased to get under her skin. The woman hoped Mr Derane would be able to give a list of things terribly, horribly wrong with the home, and that he would be able to show her how to fix it (for the most part) on her own.

not the best at holding hammers, polly & charles

Scanning the property he knew already it’d indeed require of thorough reparations, and he was merely staring at the facade. The foundations were most likely about to give up, if they hadn’t already and the wood appeared to be rotten. "Termites, most likely," he pointed out to himself, making a mental note. How was this girl living in here and still alive? It was puzzling Charles already.

He parked right in front of the entrance, focused on organizing his toolbox, stepping out of the car. He checked the piece of paper again and he was supposedly on the correct house, for which he did as he was told and gave it some further skimming, inspecting the scenes before him as he made his way to the front door, remembering the girl’s words. An old house she was afraid would collapse on her. At least she was aware of how much damage the place had endured. 

He strutted quickly the last few steps toward the porch, knocking on the door. "Miss Radcliffe?" he called, unsure of whether he’d be received by her or somebody else.He had a neutral expression in his face, not a smile but not a frown either, although he’d hard before his neutral expression kind of resembled a frown anyways. 

Regardless of how his average face seemed to most people, the fact was that it meant nothing. "This is Charles—Derane, from the woodshop," he clarified in hopes it’d make things run slightly smoother. 

[paulineradcliffe]

The man was scary intimidating, and Pauline could feel her palms begin to sweat nervously. She assumed he would be huge and buff and angry, with a deep frown line tracing his brows. He bid farewell, and Pauline clamped her mouth shut to hold in the plea to cancel. 

The time frame he offered before hanging up was not ideal; Pauline would have to use her shower, and that was a nightmare come to life. Who knows if the water would even work! And even if it did, there was the chance of black sludge dribbling from the shower head rather than actual water. Pauline shuddered at the thought, leaving her mobile phone on the seat cushion of her chair.

She stripped once in the bathroom. Pauline tiptoed across the grimy tiled floor, desperate not to see any centipedes or spiders or any other crawling creature. The pipes seemed to agree with her today, when only warm water streamed out instead of sludge or nothing at all. Pauline jumped into the tub and stood under the water for a moment before she began to scrub at her body with a fresh loofah. 

It seemed to her that her shower had only taken about fifteen minutes, but when Pauline checked the nearby clock -- it had been well over thirty. Pauline let out a hiss of annoyance and snuck down the hall into her bedroom. Even from here, she could hear Sue rummaging around her baskets of sewing things and snippets of fabric. Polly turned her head upwards, eyes closed, and gave a silent wish to any and all ghosts in the home to leave before that man got here. The commotion in the sewing room stopped almost immediately. Pauline looked to her bedroom door purely out of content surprise. 

Creeping out of her bedroom and down towards the enormous foyer, Pauline rubbed at her arm. Should she call out? Was the man already here? What was his name again...Derane? Polly wasn't sure what to do. If she called out to nobody, then she would feel foolish. But if she called out to the carpenter and he was there, then she would feel weird regardless. Pauline settled on going to look out the front door to see if a vehicle was out in the drive.

not the best at holding hammers, polly & charles

The sound of his truck’s door closing punctuated the beginning of the girl’s—Pauline Radcliffe’s—words, and he listened attentively. "If it’s that big of a house and that big of a mess, no, of course I can’t fix it all in one go. But—" he started the engine as he held the phone between his shoulder and his cheek, "We can go with the consultation idea of yours and I could fix a few little things here and there as I consult, just so you’re able to use at least 5% percent more of your house. Good?”

Fickle was an understatement to how that girl seemed to feel. He revised the address, held against the steering wheel with his thumb. “I’ll be there in around half an hour. Forty five minutes to an hour if the traffic’s bad. It’ll hopefully give y’time to do whatever you have to do, Miss Radcliffe.” With that, he turned his head to drive backwards out of the woodshop’s small parking spot. “I’ll hang up now. Will see you soon, and thank you for calling us.”

He turned on the radio to make it less of a drag and instantly modern pop tunes filled the space. "Has anyone been toyin’ with my stuff?!" The coworker in the entrance, Gregory, whose first name Charles didn’t mind enough to remember, quickly ran into the woodshop, tools in hand as if scared Charles would get out of the car and chase him. Honestly, he briefly considered. "Fuck you, Gregory!" Even with the music on he could hear the man’s gruff, messy laugh and he glared at the door, even if his coworker couldn’t see him do so.

There was nothing more repetitive than love songs nowadays. The choruses were just the same three-to-five-word sentence over and over again and the same four chords in ninety percent of the cases. Deep breath held in his chest, he switched the station to something less loud. Acoustic guitar instrumentals would have to do. There was little traffic, luckily, as not many cars were directed to the outskirts of the city at that hour. He made it to Radcliffe’s place in record time, and, eyeing the household, well, he already knew the woman had not been bluffing.

[paulineradcliffe]

Pauline was somewhat grateful at his lighthearted reaction to her stammering. When prompted for her name, she quickly replied with: "Oh! P-Pauline. Um, Pauline Radcliffe..." She listened to the man jostle the phone around as he did whatever it was he was doing. Polly tried to stay calm at the thought of him coming over right now. She hadn't even showered! 

He asked for her address, and Pauline hesitantly gave it to him. She hoped it would take a while to get to the outskirts of town so she could quickly jump in the shower. She had avoided it since Tuesday, but even then she had asked to use her aunt's. There were too many bugs still living throughout her home, and the shower was one of their main hang out spots.

"About, um, pricing...It, uh...it's going to be a lot of work. A lot. Of work." Pauline glanced around the room she was in and her gaze fell on too many problems to list. And that was only one room. The outside was a mess, most of the upstairs windows were broken and boarded up, and half of the back side was sagging. The balcony on the back side didn't even exist anymore. 

Pauline swallowed, terrified. "In all honesty, um...I think this will be a consultation, if anything...there are too many issues to fix in just one trip." It was very, very true, and Pauline hoped the carpenter would take that into consideration. There was no way in Hell that anyone could get any one thing done today. 

But she was proud of herself, very much so; she had started the process of getting her home restored (or at least to the best of her ability and pocketbook). Perhaps she would even call upon a landscaper, or at least a gardener. "How long, um...do you think you'll be? In getting here? If I don't answer the door, you...um...can just take a look around. But don't go up past the second storey or you'll probably fall through the floor." The last part was added very quickly, since it was something she was most ashamed of regarding her home.

not the best at holding hammers, polly & charles

Silence lingered uncertainly in the air after Charles made his customary salutation, as if the person were wondering what to say next. A few weary seconds later and indeed, a hesitant voice took over the speaker. Charles chuckled at the nervous rambling, making sure the person didn’t hear it. It didn’t seem like they were good at this phone calls thing, and good, because Charles wasn’t either. At least he didn’t stammer quite as much, though. “Alright, miss…?” Charles smirked again. “We like wolves, too. I think t’name may have given us away.”

“So, on point. Big house falling apart; I think I can work with that.” Hands clean, he started prepping things already, sheet of paper and pen close. “I’ll need y’address and once there we shall discuss prices. Sounds good?” He paced around the work room, phone in one hand while gathering his tools with the other, pondering exactly on which to bring; the woman had been fairly vague, so he settled for—everything, equally as indefinite, just in case.

He wasn’t new to this kind of people. The same owner of the Ford he’d been fixing had called him as if the apocalypse had taken over their truck when in reality, the fix needing to be made was just a simple oil change. It amused Charles to no end, but hey, he got paid for it, so he’d not argue. The client was always right and all that nonsense.

It did seem like the person on the line wasn’t exaggerating, though; Charles would give them the benefit of the doubt. He saved his toolbox on the back of his truck, phone still in hand. 

[paulineradcliffe]

The first two rings were like nails being driven right into her skull. The third ring was clipped off, and a rough male's voice answered. Pauline sat in the plush chair a second, mouth open and twitching to form any sort of sound. She really, really hated phone calls. Now, with someone on the other line, what the hell would she say?

A small, wispy voice at the back of her head directed her through the conversation. "Um, uh...um...h-hello! Hi. Um. What can you do for me? Ha, oh, um. I have a big house. Yeah. Um. It's old, and I'm scared it's gonna collapse? On me?" She must have sounded ridiculous. No, she did. Pauline was sure she sounded ridiculous. 

She cleared her throat (almost some sort of subconscious mimicry of the man named Derane) and tried again. "I really need help fixing up my house or I'm going to be kicked out and the house will be torn down and my aunt will kill me and I just don't know how a nail gun works," shot out of her at an inhuman speed, words clinging together as if they would be lost otherwise. "Also, I like wolves."

Pauline slapped her forehead really harshly, which probably could be heard on the other end of the phone. She pinched the bridge of her nose right between her eyes to keep herself from crying out in utter embarrassment.

not the best at holding hammers, polly & charles

Only a couple months into Alexandria, Virginia and Charles could not complain—he had it better than the average newcomer, that was for sure. Thanks through connections, he already had a steady source of income at a woodshop, and only because he could, he’d also placed a few extra ads in the local newspaper and calls with small job offerings were not foreign to him. Life was good and it was simple, just like Charles needed it to be.

He’d been busy changing a Ford F-150’s oil. At the generic ring, he snatched a rag from the bench next to him and put the phone on speaker; his callous grease-darkened hands just couldn’t hold the device as of then. One click and all he had to do was to talk, wiping his hands at the same time.  ”Papa Wolf Supplies, Derane here,” he greeted, voice hoarse from the disuse. He spent his average afternoons working on the tasks he’d picked up earlier in the day and talking was a rarity, unless it was to order takeout through the phone.

It’s important to point out Charles wasn’t a social person, and the few people he was somewhat-social with knew Charles wasn’t a phonecall type of person either, simply because of the fact that no matter how social he pushed himself to be, Charles wasn’t good at conversations if they were unnecessary (or he considered them unnecessary). At least they could do things face-to-face they otherwise couldn’t via just talking. That was Charles’ type of bonding, and seemingly that wouldn’t change no matter how old he got. Things were different with jobs, though, so he cleared his throat and attempted to make his voice as approachable-sounding as possible. “What can I do for you?”

[paulineradcliffe]

not the best at holding hammers, polly & charles

It was a dreary day and Pauline had had a dreary dream. She had visited her mother's grave, but it was deep within one of the forests near her childhood home; the wet grass licked at her bare feet as she crept towards the enormous stone, displayed upon it "MARGARET RADCLIFFE, TAKEN TOO SOON." Pauline had this dream often, and she would not categorize it as a nightmare -- it wasn't. It was, though, very strange, since that isn't what it said on her mother's actual gravestone. She had seen it many times before moving in with Auntie Bee, and it was a simple, quaint thing. The dream stuck with her the entire morning, and well into the early afternoon.

While flipping through the newspaper, she found an ad that offered carpentry services. She considered calling the number, since her home would cave in on itself any week now. That was a situation she did not want to be in, so the young woman picked up her mobile and started dialling.

Once the number was punched in, Pauline sat curled up in the armchair for at least ten minutes. Phone calls were torture, and she would rather be water boarded for several hours than have to make a three minute phone call. But, hearing Sue in the sewing room nearby begin her afternoon pace, Pauline decided -- yes, she would call.

The dial tone hummed at her a moment before the call went through and began to ring. Pauline held her breath in wait for an answer.