#original character; mae machenry

[sixbelmontstreet]

spring arrival | mae, fleur, barb & mrs machenry (sfw)

Mae arrived at Pi Kappa Sigma on a warm spring morning. Purple crocuses peeked gingerly at the low sun, shaking off dew as they opened to the kiss of light. They unfurled slowly, buds turning to blooms to soak everything in. Mrs Mac marched up the steps and past the balustrade with great purpose, leaving her niece trailing quietly in her wake. Mrs Mac chatted about the house and its present inhabitants with affection and frustration by turns but it seemed good-natured, as it often was with her.

Mae smiled slightly, her brown leather suitcase in one hand, her coat and scarf draped over the other. 6 Belmont Street was grand in a mature, if slightly jaded way. It was made of brown stone with large windows and a small garden that stretched around it in a smartly-clipped square. There was a trellis criss-crossing up the wall towards some of the highest windows, which were small and dark and undoubtedly in the attic. The trellis was beginning to flourish too, with dark-green leaves and the faintest hint of honeysuckle emanating from delicate white flowers.

‘You’ll meet the girls very soon, I should expect,’ Mrs Mac said before tutting as she struggled to open the door. After a few attempts at rattling the brass knob, Mae’s aunt cursed and set her bags down. ‘Goddamn it, this needs fixed.’

Once the door had finally opened and Mrs Mac had staggered through it, they were inside. The interior of the house matched quite well with what was outside of it. It was rather dark and smelled of wood polish and smoke from the hearth in the sitting room. There were stairs that led up towards the dorm rooms on the first floor and the corridor leading to the left of the stairs seemed to follow towards the kitchen. Sounds of morning chatter came from it and the clanking of cutlery against plates and glasses being shifted on the countertop.

‘Girls,’ Mrs Mac called as she made her way towards the kitchen. Mae lingered in the hallway, looking around in demure silence. Her aunt looked back to her and smiled a slightly yellow smile. ‘Maeve, dear, hang up your coat and I’ll show you to your room in a moment.’

Mae nodded and did as she was told, hanging her red wool coat up by the loop at the collar on an already-full peg on the wall. Her aunt disappeared into the kitchen and she heard conversation. Excited voices along with her aunt’s slightly chiding but playful tone. The grandfather clock ticked steadily as it had done presumably for decades. Mae waited. She had not expected her aunt to reappear with two other girls; one slender and brunette with a cigarette hanging from her bottom lip, the other with a wild mass of waist-long blonde curls and a gentle expression. 

‘Now you two behave yourselves. This is Maeve, my niece. She’ll be rooming with Camille for the time being.’ Mrs Mac puffed out like a mother hen, lifting her chin proudly as the two girls at her back inspected Mae; the brunette with a pointed look and the blonde with gleeful anticipation.

‘She looks real sweet, Mrs Mac,’ said the brunette, huffing smoke out of her mouth. ‘Can’t wait to see her try to fit in around here with a face like that.’

‘Nice to meet you, Maeve!’ Chirped the blonde. She skipped over on light, bare feet and shook Mae’s hand.

‘You can call me Mae,’ she said quietly as was her way. She had never been loud, especially in a house of jostling voices and opinions constantly verging on an argument or a musical number.

The blonde was beautiful up-close. She was tall and her features were full of joy. Her skin held a slight tan despite the long and glacial winter that had been endured throughout the city and her cheeks were speckled with faint freckles that looked like flecks of russet paint and been haphazardly sprinkled across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She giggled. ‘Fleur,’ she said.

The brunette was less enthused and seemed droll and dry but not malicious. She turned on her heels and walked back to the kitchen. ‘Hey guys, Mrs Mac’s brought us a live one. Wait until the boys catch the scent!’

Mae’s aunt wheeled around, comically incensed at the suggestion. She rushed after the brunette to scold her and the kitchen erupted into giggles.

‘Don’t mind Barb,’ Fleur grinned, plucking Mae’s suitcase from her hands. ‘She’s trouble.’

The corners of Mae’s lips turned upwards in a sweet smile. ‘I don’t mind. I like trouble.’

[lookwhatbeewrote]

spring arrival | mae, barb, fleur & mrs mac (sfw)

a/n: It’s snowing outside right now which has put me in a Black Christmas mood. Here’s a small drabble I did ages ago with the very special help of @chrisscrossart. Mae and Fleur are two of the characters we’ve been playing with to flesh out the sorority house at 6 Belmont Street. I’m going to post a few more ideas here soon. Enjoy!

Mae arrived at Pi Kappa Sigma on a warm spring morning. Purple crocuses peeked gingerly at the low sun, shaking off dew as they opened to the kiss of light. They unfurled slowly, buds turning to blooms to soak everything in. Mrs Mac marched up the steps and past the balustrade with great purpose, leaving her niece trailing quietly in her wake. Mrs Mac chatted about the house and its present inhabitants with affection and frustration by turns but it seemed good-natured, as it often was with her.

Mae smiled slightly, her brown leather suitcase in one hand, her coat and scarf draped over the other. 6 Belmont Street was grand in a mature, if slightly jaded way. It was made of brown stone with large windows and a small garden that stretched around it in a smartly-clipped square. There was a trellis criss-crossing up the wall towards some of the highest windows, which were small and dark and undoubtedly in the attic. The trellis was beginning to flourish too, with dark-green leaves and the faintest hint of honeysuckle emanating from delicate white flowers.

‘You’ll meet the girls very soon, I should expect,’ Mrs Mac said before tutting as she struggled to open the door. After a few attempts at rattling the brass knob, Mae’s aunt cursed and set her bags down. ‘Goddamn it, this needs fixed.’

Once the door had finally opened and Mrs Mac had staggered through it, they were inside. The interior of the house matched quite well with what was outside of it. It was rather dark and smelled of wood polish and smoke from the hearth in the sitting room. There were stairs that led up towards the dorm rooms on the first floor and the corridor leading to the left of the stairs seemed to follow towards the kitchen. Sounds of morning chatter came from it and the clanking of cutlery against plates and glasses being shifted on the countertop.

‘Girls,’ Mrs Mac called as she made her way towards the kitchen. Mae lingered in the hallway, looking around in demure silence. Her aunt looked back to her and smiled a slightly yellow smile. ‘Maeve, dear, hang up your coat and I’ll show you to your room in a moment.’

Mae nodded and did as she was told, hanging her red wool coat up by the loop at the collar on an already-full peg on the wall. Her aunt disappeared into the kitchen and she heard conversation. Excited voices along with her aunt’s slightly chiding but playful tone. The grandfather clock ticked steadily as it had done presumably for decades. Mae waited. She had not expected her aunt to reappear with two other girls; one slender and brunette with a cigarette hanging from her bottom lip, the other with a wild mass of waist-long blonde curls and a gentle expression. 

‘Now you two behave yourselves. This is Maeve, my niece. She’ll be rooming with Camille for the time being.’ Mrs Mac puffed out like a mother hen, lifting her chin proudly as the two girls at her back inspected Mae; the brunette with a pointed look and the blonde with gleeful anticipation.

‘She looks real sweet, Mrs Mac,’ said the brunette, huffing smoke out of her mouth. ‘Can’t wait to see her try to fit in around here with a face like that.’

‘Nice to meet you, Maeve!’ Chirped the blonde. She skipped over on light, bare feet and shook Mae’s hand.

‘You can call me Mae,’ she said quietly as was her way. She had never been loud, especially in a house of jostling voices and opinions constantly verging on an argument or a musical number.

The blonde was beautiful up-close. She was tall and her features were full of joy. Her skin held a slight tan despite the long and glacial winter that had been endured throughout the city and her cheeks were speckled with faint freckles that looked like flecks of russet paint and been haphazardly sprinkled across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She giggled. ‘Fleur,’ she said.

The brunette was less enthused and seemed droll and dry but not malicious. She turned on her heels and walked back to the kitchen. ‘Hey guys, Mrs Mac’s brought us a live one. Wait until the boys catch the scent!’

Mae’s aunt wheeled around, comically incensed at the suggestion. She rushed after the brunette to scold her and the kitchen erupted into giggles.

‘Don’t mind Barb,’ Fleur grinned, plucking Mae’s suitcase from her hands. ‘She’s trouble.’

The corners of Mae’s lips turned upwards in a sweet smile. ‘I don’t mind. I like trouble.’