Emma Leger

emma leger

edgarfortiers‌:

“So nostalgia, then?” Edgar couldn’t imagine moving back to a place simply because there were memories there. France was home, would always be, but Edgar doubted that he’d move back there. At least, not while Xavier was still alive. Maybe after, he’d return home. “What’s that been like? Homecoming I mean. Does it feel biblical, like the Prodigal coming back, or has it been a major let down?”

Olivia almost laughed at the word ‘nostalgia.’ Aside from a handful of friends from high school, nostalgia wasn’t quite the word she would use to describe growing up in Maywood. At the question, Olivia tilted her head to the side to consider the Prodigal. “Mm, a little bit of both if I’m being honest. It’s been a celebration for old friends. For my parents and I, things are chilly,” she shrugged, “But that’s better than arguing, so I’ll take it.”

lucieoconnor‌:

“You’re not going to take my power cable away are you?” Lucie smirked, remembering what Liv used to do in the past when they were much younger and Lucie should have been sleeping. Truthfully, she hadn’t even noticed that it was so late, but now she mentioned it, she was beginning to grow tired. “To be honest, I’m glad it’s you and not the cops. I’m sorry, Liv.” She offered, smiling sheepishly. It might not always seem like it, but Lucie was never intentionally trying to be a dick. It just sometimes happened.

“I’m singing at an event in a few days and they have –– rather last minute –– requested some covers as well as my original songs. So I’m learning them, or trying to.” She explained, already forming a rather bad relationship with the song she was currently trying to learn.

“Seeing as I’m not looking to get arrested for petty theft: not tonight,” Olivia said with a smirk of her own. She could have added that taking the power cable away hadn’t put a stop to Lucie’s nightly practicing. In fact, at some point Lucie started to get around her by using headphones. Then, Olivia flipped the breaker to her room at random intervals throughout the night. There were no breakers that she could access now, so this would have to do. 

“It’s alright. I sleep like shit anyways,” Olivia shrugged. She nodded towards the keyboard peeking out in the background. It wasn’t the one she remembered, which meant this one was louder. “What event and what covers? It’s not like Bob Dylan songs is it?” she asked, her distaste apparent in her voice; Bob Dylan may have been a great, but Olivia’s experience with him was recent and his voice was not what it once was. 

sfordbaileys‌:

Starter for: anyone Location: Deep Swells (Crescent Cove) @maywoodstarters​

Staring down his mug of black coffee, probably cold by now, Ford willed himself to find something to do. Fingers held the handle tight enough to feel secure there wouldn’t be a drop. Dragging his feet, he looked around his empty shop. It was still early enough that he didn’t mind. Ford wasn’t the biggest fan of busy hours, so he’d tried to take full advantage of the peace and quiet. A quiet jangle broke his focus on the framed black and white photo of back in the day Maywood. Stifling a yawn, Ford hid his face behind the mug, hair flying as he shook off the tiny sigh that his throat made as he exhaled. “Mornin’,” he tilted his chin up. He didn’t bother with the niceties. Nobody cared for them, especially him. Five minutes of mindless wandering and constant yawning, his heart jumped before his brain could comprehend what was happening. “The fuc—what was that?” He asked nobody in particular as he walked towards the vicinity of the crash. Surfboards were lopsided and the offender, though probably accidental, seemed to be half buried. Murder by surfboards. That would’ve made a good headline for the press. A snort escaped his nose as he extended a hand towards the hopeful patron. “Ya know, there’s a thing called customer service.”

How Olivia got tasked with watching her nephews was beyond her. As it stood, her tolerance for children was low. Her tolerance for bad children? Non-existent. Allie’s brood of five was a handful, so when she lost the eldest three to the shoreline Olivia was more than happy to watch them from the inside of the surf shop as the youngest two looked for surf wax. 

Olivia should have known that trusting the youngest two to go through the aisles was a mistake, though. At the sound of a crash, Olivia begrudgingly looked away from the window and turned to scowl at her nephews. As a snort came from her side, she glanced over. Her nephews at least had the courtesy to look sheepish at the shop’s owner. “Sorry, they’re climbers,” she explained, placing one of the surfboards on the rack, “Can you point them in the direction of the surf wax while I help?”

oliverbentleys‌:

“I’ll have to have them made for the next time we go on a class trip, then,” Oliver joked. “I’ll even have yours embroidered with the word ‘pal.’” Self deprecating humor was something that Oliver was good at. Especially when it came to all the ways working with kids had impacted the way he interacted with adults. “Is it sad that I’m looking forward to it?”

“Hey!” There was mock outrage in his voice over her judgment of his iced tea. “I was waiting for you,” he continued. “And trying to decide if I wanted a girly drink or if I wanted to be manly and drink something utterly disgusting.” Ollie Oxen-Free. Oliver snorted at that. “Did the marble make a reappearance? I’m thinking of getting a ferret, but I don’t know if they’re allowed as pets in Maine. I figure they’d be more rewarding than working with teenagers all day, but less needy than a dog.”

“Deal. Make sure you put ‘Old Sport,’ on yours, though. It’s only fair,” Olivia said. She rested her chin in her hand and smiled up at Ollie. Sometimes, she wondered what high school would have been like if there was someone like him working there. He was a friendly face in a crowd, and a lighthearted joke on a bad day. Maybe, someone like him would have encouraged her to strive for more, to look deeper at her hobbies, or maybe someone would have said something about what was right under their noses. That was all too deep to say in the middle of their usual playfulness, which was only made obvious by his mock outrage.

“Obviously, a girly drink. They have more alcohol, but do a great job at tricking you. Less tab, more fun,” Olivia said as she craned her neck to get a look for the bartenders. She looked over at the mention of ferret with a laugh. Of all the potentially illegal things to wonder about, of course, Ollie wondered about ferrets. “I would just do it. Who’s going to squeal on you for having a ferret? And even if they did, what are they going to do? Arrest you?”