hedgemaze: (01)
ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ᴀᴜʙᴇʟ ǝɹnʇɐǝⅎ ǝɹnʇɐǝɹɔ ǝɥʇ ([personal profile] hedgemaze) wrote in [community profile] finalflight2016-11-30 10:45 pm
Entry tags:

psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]



THE AUBEL ESTATE is located in Derbyshire, England, a stately old home reminiscent of centuries long past. Long ago, it had fallen into disrepair and abandoned until previous generations of the Aubel family purchased the land for themselves, having found their fortunes in matters of real estate. Since that time, the outside has been restored and the inside has been renovated at least three times. Four, if you ask the uncle who remembers the one summer where the chandelier fell from the dining hall, taking a large portion of the ceiling with it. How embarrassing, if such a thing is true.

In its present state, it straddles the line between the old and new. The large, prominent rooms are ostentatious as they are filled to the brim with austere English culture; the smaller quarters, traditionally used by the servants and staff, are far more modest, and over time have allowed the tendrils of modernity to creep in as a result. Regardless, the home is impressive no matter how you look at it, and there are few who do not cast an envious glance at the estate as they pass by Derbyshire on their way to town, or perhaps northwest to Manchester, if they've even farther to go.

PHILIP AND JAMES AUBEL, father and son respectively, are the owners of the home, though only the father remains for any extended period of time. And even then, he only stays perhaps one or two seasons at a time, until he returns to his home in London, spending one or two seasons there, before returning again, living out his life of retirement to the fullest. James visits nearly every week (driving in from Manchester, and back) in the Spring, until the first freeze of Winter, when nothing will grow. Though they have a staff of two dozen -- give or take, depending upon the time of year -- taking care of the estate and its grounds, James is more diligent about keeping up appearances of the house, showing a special interest in maintaining the complex hedge maze on the land directly behind them. Only he keeps access to its center, a literal walled garden of seasonal flora.

AS RECENT DEVELOPMENTS WOULD HAVE IT, James has been drawn into an arranged marriage by his father and an old business acquaintance. She is scheduled for an extended visit soon, and the staff have done a meticulous job of preparing the hall for her arrival -- and the rest of the rooms, as well, if she is expected to make her living here permanent, one day. Today, the weather is clear and the help is eager to aid her in unpacking. The grounds are green and the family dog, an old greyhound with cataracts in one eye, bounds up to her with a slow wagging tail. The father will greet her, of course, with all the usual formalities, and though he doesn't know her all that well at all, she at least seems nice enough. He disappears soon after, leaving her to her own devices as she sees fit. James himself is nowhere to be found.

Somewhere, sooner rather than later, a collision course of first impressions will take place.

----------


D I R E C T O R Y;
shitpost.
first impressions.
diamonds.
text her, texter.
saviour.
flirt.
closer.
cross-examine.
PARTY CRASHERS.
elle + devon
elle + corvus
ian + james + corvus
devon + james
alien abduction.
sleep now.
bathe.
remember.
drink.
welcome home.
winterheart: (No didn't think so)

Fʟᴀsʜʙᴀᴄᴋs | 𝚃𝙵𝙻𝙽 | YEAR BEFORE

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 04:36 am (UTC)(link)
[In the time before the unusual arrangement, Devon Ava Winters, lived what she would call, a fairly simple, but content life. Uncomplicated (usually) in most aspects, even when she had to deal with her mother's side of the family.

Of course, Devon would think wording it like that was unfair. Her cousin, Lucy Flemming, a year older than her, had always made an effort to make her feel included in outings compared to the other Flemmings who would display awkward politeness and civility around her. Sure, Lucy could be a bit flighty, a bit of a boast (especially about her fiance who she always reminded everyone about, he was just that good), but why wouldn't she be? She was a lovely and proud Flemming with blonde hair, blue eyes, a generally sweet disposition, and a wicked streak for academics to match. Devon really did like her in the end and wouldn't ever wish ill on her.

Of course, those good qualities didn't exactly equal good sense. Devon is visiting England, far from her home from Portland, Oregon. Lucy and some of the other girl cousins decided that it was a perfectly good weekend to visit a popular dance club. Devon tagged along, not one to turn down an outing just because she isn't used to it (she had to convince her parents that yes, Lucy would watch out for her and it would be too loud for her to fall asleep). And of course, there's always the prospect of finally finding someone attractive that she could maybe start something new with.

And yet, it's rather fruitless. Her cousins are having a wild time on the dance floor, some at the bar, taking shots. Devon has a feeling she was going to the only sober one at the end of the evening because she's ended up on purse and phone duty. She nurses her own drink while sitting in a quiet corner of the bar, playing a game on her phone (And people wonder why she doesn't get out much.)

That's when she glances at Lucy's phone.

There's a loud whooping from Lucy who twirls her athletic body with some nameless friends. Devon slides her cousin's phone over to herself noting that it was unlocked. Excellent. She goes through her contact list, looking for a certain name... Ah. There he was. The Golden Boy. The Fiance of the Year. She's not sure really, why she decided to go through with this silly prank even though she and Lucy have done it to each other before. Maybe it's the alcohol, but more than likely, it was just Devon being Devon. A wildcard of a young woman.

And so, a new message appears...
]

Fantasizing about the apocalypse is fun and shit until the conditions that could lead to one suddenly seem feasible
Edited 2016-12-02 04:39 (UTC)
winterheart: (Thinking thoughts)

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 05:29 am (UTC)(link)
[Good lord.

Devon stares at the reply and the... Purple prose of it consisted of and all in just two lines of text. Is this why Lucy seems to adore this guy? He practically sounds Shakespearean.
]

You sound like you're in an apocalypse yourself lolololol

[Whenever it came to texting, Devon tends to cut loose.]

My apocalypse is brightly colored strobe lights, watching people get freaky, and running out of my drink
I think I've had better overseas
winterheart: (Situation No. 2)

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 05:48 am (UTC)(link)
[Uh oh.

Devon grits her teeth worriedly and looks over at Lucy and friends who's chatting amiably with a group of strangers as they get off the dance floor, being treated to more drinks. That's better than grinding, but dangerously skirting the line.

Diffuse, diffuse, diffuse, diffuse. She quickly types back.
]

As a hot-blooded American, I take offense to that.

I'm SUPER loud and annoying :PPPP


[Might as well come clean AND delete this whole conversation thread before the night ends too. Devon wouldn't be able to live it down if she ruined things between her cousin and the much anticipated groom.]

Sorry, Not LuLu, other cousin
Phone sitting
them phones need to be kept warm and safe throughout the night or else they'll die lonely electronic deaths
I'm doing a great job so far
Edited 2016-12-02 05:48 (UTC)
winterheart: (You won't get me naked)

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 05:57 am (UTC)(link)
Don't be rude




even if it is snooping
just a little
kinda
maybe
✧٩(•́⌄•́๑)

anyways, she's on her best behavior don't worry
im protecting her honor
and her phone
winterheart: (UNFRIEND)

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 06:11 am (UTC)(link)
im protecting her honor
And since I'm doing that, there's no grinding
We're all good kids here

it's practically a catholic mass here, that's how good we are
Edited 2016-12-02 06:11 (UTC)
winterheart: (That I put down in words)

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 06:19 am (UTC)(link)
I'm only a LITTLE buzzed
Also, I ended up trying to dominate everyone's Candy Crush scores
The EDM makes for good gaming music


[God, this cousin sounds like she's all over the place doesn't she?

Devon's been grinning slightly at this conversation, enjoying it more than she should. She glances upwards to check on Lucy before looking down at the screen again.]
winterheart: (You're full of fluff)

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 06:28 am (UTC)(link)
[She rolls her eyes and crosses her legs. This fiance was way too much of a downer to be engaged to Lucy. Maybe her cousin would lighten him up when the actual marriage comes to be.

As for his question, her reply is simple:
]

The funny one.
Ha ha
winterheart: (Cause it's my jam.)

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 06:33 am (UTC)(link)
The joke is, genius, that you're gonna have to figure out which cousin I am among the Red Sea of formidable cousins
That said I probably gave it away already
winterheart: (Business face)

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 06:38 am (UTC)(link)
I'm carrying that secret to the grave
The vividly lit EDM dance floor grave at this rate

Ah, what the hell. I'll see you at the wedding anyways.
winterheart: (THE KNOWING LOOK)

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 06:51 am (UTC)(link)
[She stares at the screen. Smirks to herself.]

Sucks being the dude 8)
winterheart: (Just to let you know)

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 06:57 am (UTC)(link)
I dunno, I'm pretty happy with cake and a sangria on those lonely nights
It's basically the same thing

You know, you've basically discovered the second phase of living
When you realize you can eat cake anytime you want
winterheart: (UNFRIEND)

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 07:08 am (UTC)(link)
[Blocked. He is so blocked.

Well, he would be, if this wasn't Lucy's phone.
]

sounds like i might have to suggest to Lu that an extension to your engagement might be a good idea >(
winterheart: (I'll be watching you)

ƑƖαѕн Ƒσяωαяɗ | YEAR LATER

[personal profile] winterheart 2016-12-02 08:26 am (UTC)(link)
[
She doesn't want to sleep during her plane ride, but to no avail. It's the same dream again; the inky blackness, the sensation of falling off an edge she cannot see. Piles of feathers, silvery and opal like. She walks forward in the blackness, being lead by someone. Something. It calls for her. It's telling her to come back. Don't go, don't go, come back, come back, where are you going?

No matter where she goes, it'll follow. They all will. Because she needs to return to them. She belongs to them.


❋ ❋ ❋


The past few months have been, in a word, stressful. Stressful beyond belief.

When the announcement and order was given, Lucy Flemming was dumbstruck and would not look Devon in the eye and her pleading messages to make amends with her beloved cousin went unanswered for the rest of the year. Her aunts and uncles were outraged, demanding answers from Lucas Jayden Flemming, the esteemed patriarch and questioning his much too sudden judgement and their disdain towards the favored grandchild was no longer hidden. Devon's mother, Christine, pursed her lips, after a heated discussion with her father over a phonecall which ended with a sickening silence and although she tried not to cry in front of her daughter, Devon knew that worry plagued her every night and she would cry to Aaron, her father, who did his best to soothe his wife and reassure his daughter that perhaps this new path was not so bad. Devon wouldn't leave them forever, they would save up and visit her, she can always fly back to see them. (Oh, but the worry got to her daddy too, both him and Mom would wonder who would be there for her sleepwalking episodes, what if she got lost, they don't want her out of their sight). Her parents, despite how they felt, helped Devon with filling the appropriate paperwork and making the necessary preparations for the big move.

Her teaching supervisor was confused, but sympathetic to Devon, being sure to leave her kind words and have the entire classroom create a lovingly made scrapbook album for every child to give their goodbyes and thank yous to Miss Devon. Some of the children, bless their souls, were bright eyed at her moving away to Britain, asking her questions about the seemingly mysterious kingdom. Devon could only smile and answer the best she could, not wanting to break their hearts with her own forlorn feelings.

Oh, but worst of all was poor baby Ian. A nine year old, sure, but always the dear squirt to his big sister. Thinking about who would take care of him now that she wouldn't be around distressed Devon the most. He was so sensitive and she wanted to see his soccer games, she wanted to embarrass him in front of his friends, she wanted to treat him to ice cream on Fridays and watch his favorite movies on the weekends. Ian had been the most quiet out of everyone on both sides of the family about the whole matter. But he gripped Devon's hand more tightly in the mornings when she dropped him off for school and he ate all of his vegetables more easily instead of protesting, as if trying to make everyone's life easier with that minimal task. He only started to cry when he and their parents, waved to Devon as she walked to her plane terminal.

And after a long flight and a persisting fight with jet lag, Devon Ava Winters stands before the Aubel Estate in all of its high British glory. To say that she felt overwhelmed is an understatement. Portland was green, but here, the green is an ocean. Grandpa had a fancy place or two and they might have been about the same size, but Devon never felt intimidated in those places like she did here. Those were filled with family members and with Lucas's robust personality that could fill every nook and cranny. Here, there was just so much emptiness.

When Philip Aubel greeted her cordially, but briefly, her reply felt automatic and robotic. Soon, her bags and packages were swept away and she's left with the grey hound, a truly friendly face. You can always count on dogs. Devon is soon in the front hall, and kneels on the floor, ruffling the dog's head in an absentminded manner. Her dark hair falls in waves around her shoulders, bangs obscuring her tired eyes. She's dressed in a leather jacket and modest pants and flats. Hardly the ideal picture of a glowing fiancee. Her thoughts had been all over the place and ironically, it's been making it hard for her to sleep which was a stupid benefit. There was no sleepwalking during the whole debacle at least. That would have been too much on top of this arranged marriage business and ruining ties with her extended family (well, the Winters are still there, but their humor probably wouldn't pull her out of this funk).

It was all so frustrating. Why the sudden change of mind? Why the urgency? Why did it seem like her mother and grandpa kept withholding information from her as if this engagement was truly for Devon's benefit? Grandpa's reasoning was simply that Devon needed it more than Lucy. Lucy had many other prospects and she was not wanting for a promising career with her brains and talents. She didn't need this marriage to be successful. Devon, on the other hand, needed a boost. She deserved better than being a schoolteacher.

Yeah. Being treated as a switchable object is way better than reaching out to kids," is Devon's uselessly sarcastic thought as she stands up, looking down at the grey hound. She sighs and speaks to it while looking at her new home.
]

Guess you'll be my first friend then? I could really use it.

[Devon takes comfort in the fact that she hasn't seen her partner to be yet. He is, in fact, the last person she wants to see after this emotionally trying journey.]
Edited 2016-12-02 08:29 (UTC)

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