sorry seems to be the hardest word [Open]

[sylviedevereux]

She spends the entire flight wringing her hands. As soon as the plane took off she regretted her decision and wished she was anywhere but strapped into her seat heading towards the United States. She's never been to the USA, and on some level, that's exciting, she supposes, but on the main level, oh mon dieu, what am I doing? Four years ago, she said that she was done with this, with him, with everything that kept tying her down to that mess of a life. She said that she was done, but here she is, flying straight into the eye of the storm.

She comes armed with more books on the occult than she thought she'd ever be able to find. Her local librarian had thought she was losing it a little with how many books she had gathered, but she had to know everything she could before she faced him again. Once, he had told her what he was, and despite the love and the gorgeous life they had shared, the whole idea had stricken icy fear down her spine. She had thought she couldn't get tangled up in that mess again; she had wondered, briefly, if he had been one of them, sent to find her.

In her rational mind, Sylvie knows it was all a gut reaction, that two years of trusting Shea Cooper with everything she had should have taught her better than to doubt him at a second's notice. She'll regret making that decision until the day she dies, and this is some kind of atonement for it, like she can forgive herself for throwing away her happy ending if she just sees him one more time.

The plane touches down and she's in a cab heading for Siren Cove before she's really ready for it, and then the cottage she'd organised online is staring her in the face and this is real. She gives herself long enough to unlock the door and put her bags down before she grabs her handbag and heads straight back out the front door. If she's going to deal with this, the first thing she needs to go and find is a bottle of wine, and maybe by tomorrow she'll have steeled herself to track him down.


ooc: hi, this is sylvie. quick intro post for her before I have to hiatus :( catch her around town, or maybe be her neighbour?

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[sylviedevereux]

Sylvie is exhausted. It's been a long flight and a long four years, and so she's practically half asleep as she wanders down the aisle, only half paying attention to what she's doing.

She sees a man storm into the aisle with a look of murder on her face and she's about to keep her distance when she apologises to her. For what, she's not exactly sure, but there's no one else here so it must have been to her.

"For what?" She queries, offering him a hesitant smile.

[just_another]

"I... there was just..." But he can't really explain why just the sight of Eli Jasper can make him so angry without getting into a lot of history and Joel has a hard enough time talking to people without trying to explain all the intricacies of his life. So instead he just smiles faintly, heaves a sigh and shakes his head.

"For looking like I might be ready to bite someone's head off," he says, still smiling just slightly. Her accent is French, which is interesting, but he hesitates to ask. Spencer has made it easier for him to talk to people, but even now he still hesitates, afraid to pry. "There was just someone here who doesn't like me very much."

With good reason, he thinks. Eli shouldn't like him, but Joel wants him to remain afraid of him.

[sylviedevereux]

Sylvie smiles at him, because he obviously looks stressed about something and the least she can do is offer a little bit of stranger reassurance. She's no stranger to a quick temper, and she knows a thing or two about being filled with anger at the sight of someone unpleasant. It's not her place to comment on whatever is going on here, so she just nods.

"I'm Sylvie," she says after a moment of not being sure what to say. As introductions go, it's probably a bit weak, but she holds her hand out and figures it's as good a time as any to start getting to know the people in this town. She doesn't know how long she'll be here - that depends on Shea, and she's not exactly expecting a warm welcome - but she might as well make the most of the place while she is.

[just_another]

That she doesn't simply laugh at him or roll her eyes and turn away does a lot to relax Joel, and he has to remind himself that not everyone in town thinks poorly of him. Not everyone in town even knows who he is and he can be grateful for that when it occurs, He's never really felt the need for a fresh start -- he is who he is, for better or worse -- but sometimes it's a little easier to inch into a conversation without worrying that someone knows what he'd done to Eli or that they know the story of what happened at the lighthouse.

"Joel," he says, taking her hand in his. "Have you just come to town?" She's not from here originally, he can tell that well enough by her accent, though he supposes the same can be said for him. The eastern Canadian accent has faded over time, but as Erin had pointed out the other day, it's still obvious enough that someone familiar with the dialects of Canada can pick out where he's from easily enough.

[sylviedevereux]

She already sticks out like a sore thumb, though she really should have expected that with the accent. It's only a matter of time before this all gets out way quicker than she intended. It's a short step from 'where are you from' to 'what brings you here' and she doesn't want to have to explain about Shea, least of all before she actually talks to Shea himself. She was never a good liar though, so she's just going to have to hope she doesn't get herself in a jam.

"Stepped off the plane a couple of hours ago," she admits, shaking his hand.

[just_another]

"France to Siren Cove," Joel says and he wonders if it's polite to ask what she's doing here, but he remembers coming here himself, seventeen years old and mostly terrified that someone would ask and he wouldn't be able to lie. Although more people now know why he'd come here, it's still not something he's particularly comfortable talking about and he knows how much he hates being asked, so he decides not to. If she wants to tell him, then she can, but Joel has never been good at prying into the lives of others.

"I'm from New Brunswick originally," he tells her. "It's a nice place to live. I mean... if that's why you're here. To live. It's possible you're just visiting." Which would likely mean she knows someone in town. "It's a very nice place to visit, too. It's... I..." He sounds like an idiot, he realizes, his cheeks burning again.

[sylviedevereux]

She's immensely grateful than he doesn't ask the dreaded question, and she smiles as he rattles off. She doesn't know how long she's expecting to stay here, but it might be nice to settle here and make some friends. That is, is Shea decides to let her. There's no way in hell she'll stay where she's not wanted, which is highly likely. She can't inflict that on him after four years of abandonment, even if this really is a beautiful town.

"We'll see," she says. "For now, just visiting. Have you lived here long?"

[just_another]

"Mhm," Joel says with a nod, glad she doesn't seem too thrown by his tendency to ramble or the fact that he can barely seem to finish a sentence without stammering. Sometimes it feels like such a long time since he's been reduced to stuttering or mumbling his way through a conversation, but the reality is that he still just often avoids strangers. The people he speaks with most often are those he's comfortable with, but he's trying to branch out.

"Ten years," he tells her. "I, um, own a bookstore near the boardwalk. With my... my husband." He's not ashamed, but sometimes he still hesitates, wondering how people might react. Given how long he'd been alone, it's not something Joel is used to thinking about one way or the other, but he'll never avoid mentioning Spencer just because he doesn't know how a person might feel about his situation. "He's lived here since he was a child, though, so if you're visiting someone from town, it's likely he knows them."

[sylviedevereux]

She can't help but notice the hesitation in his voice when he says husband, and she smiles. "Relax, I'm French." She figures that explains enough. She's not one to judge, especially with the way she can feel the affection in his words as he talks about him. She doesn't want to hold Joel up more than he wants to be, but she's enjoying talking to him. It's relaxing after she's tied herself in knots for days trying to work out what to say when she got here.

She'd made the decision to come to Siren Cove a month ago, and it had taken a few weeks of deep breathing and frantic packing to be able to get here. Now that she is, there's something comforting about standing in jeans and a sweater in a grocery aisle chatting to a man who seems more welcoming than she had expected from a small town.

"That's great. Any chance he knows of a good music store?" She doesn't have the money to reacquire her possessions, but it might be nice to go and find a place, to run her fingers over the instruments and feel like she's home again. Maybe they'll even let her play in the store. She hasn't touched a piano in years; since her own was sold, she hasn't been able to summon the money or the courage to buy a new one. She still has her keyboard, the small one Shea had bought her when she was in one of her lower moods. She's carried it with her here, and it means the world to her because he bought it, because he knew exactly what she needed, but she still longs for the real thing again.

[just_another]

Joel laughs a little, an embarrassed huff of air more than anything, but her comment puts him at ease all the same. She doesn't seem to care that he's married to a man and Joel wonders if it's Spencer's doing, but it seems to be easier and easier lately to please him, because that's all it really takes for him to think he likes Sylvie. She seems kind and there's a part of Joel that really likes the idea of having someone else around who can speak French. He gets so little practice as it is.

"Oh, there are a few," he says, his pleasure growing a little when she mentions a music store. "I don't think either of us are experts when it comes to instruments, but there's one by my bookstore, just a few doors down. I don't play anything, though, so my advice would limited to where to buy records." His collection is only partly moved to Spencer's and it's already a little ridiculous, but he can't help it. Most of what he's bought is still stored in the apartment above his store.

[sylviedevereux]

She grins, pleased to know that there's at least somewhere in this town that she can get her fix. She's itching to get her hands on some records, even, something to play while she crawls into a hole at home after Shea inevitably tells her to get out of his life. She never used to be this maudlin, she muses, and quickly shoves it to the back of her mind.

"Records are good, too," she says, eager to meet someone who seems to share her enjoyment, even if he doesn't play. "I play piano, mostly. It's been a while, though."

[just_another]

"There are a lot of musically inclined people in this town," Joel says, not entirely sure how else to discuss sirens without revealing what they are. For the most part, the sirens he knows don't make much of a secret about the things they can do, but he still doesn't feel comfortable talking about it without their explicit permission. "There's a music festival every summer, it's... well, it's probably the only social gathering I go to," he admits with a faint grin.

He's never done well in crowds, but he'll always brave the world for that one. Music has been such a big part of his life for such a long time that it can pull him out of his shell better than almost anything else. "I'm sure you'll be able to find a place to play," he says. "I wish I could help more with that, but I'm more of a listener."