psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]

[hedgemaze]

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.

Comments

[hedgemaze]

[The nights that James wishes for sleep the most is when it eludes him most readily.

Tonight he stays at his estate in Derbyshire, and having finished his normal routine during the day, he's retired to his bedroom to rest. It's early yet, especially for him, but his throat feels tight tonight, his breathing shallow. His work in the gardens, perhaps, what with ozones and allergens, may have instigated it further, he thinks. His breathing does not suffer nearly as much as it did when he was younger, but there are days where it's worse than usual. Today is that day. Tonight is that night.

It's more uncomfortable than worrisome, more annoyance than concern. He's not even used his inhaler once tonight (though that was more out of pride than reason), and with enough focus, with enough... change, he can often will it away. Force his body to obey, though for some reason his throat and lungs were more stubborn than the rest, impossible to ever completely "fix". There's nothing James hates worse than spending a night tossing and turning. He had flipped on the telly, but nothing was of interest to him; the screen became nothing more than white noise, volume turned down, lights flickering with fluorescent movement as adverts played with their usual fervency.

Finally, he gets up and opens the door to the balcony overlooking the back of the house. He steps out and inhales the night air, the coolness feeling good in his lungs, and when he opens his eyes, a sliver of a moon peers down at him. He frowns.

In his pajama pockets, plaid and loose-fitting, his mobile buzzes. James' brows knit in vague surprise, and he fishes the device out, unlocking it and looking down at the message on the screen. He reads it more than once, twice, three times. It wasn't rare to receive texts from his bride-to-be (it wasn't even uncommon, on some days), but it was the content that confused him. He knew she was in town, but the message had little to nothing to do with that -- was she drunk?

He shakes his head, sliding the phone back into his pocket. Leans against the railing, looking out over the grounds for a full five minutes. Then, out of boredom, or out of nagging curiosity, he fishes his phone out once more and replies. Nothing better to do, after all.]

Like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the flicker.

[He's quoting something. Someone. He doesn't suppose Lucy would care either way. Then, something more mundane:]

Tell me about your current apocalypse and its feasibility, before I suffocate to death.

[winterheart]

[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

[hedgemaze]

[Well, he certainly can't take credit for the purple prose of the former line. He stares at the train of "lol"s and her explanation before responding. Something about this is more than a little dubious; now he's starting to think maybe a friend has gotten ahold of her phone while Lucy wasn't looking.

Still, he can play along. Why not?]

You're probably right. As a general rule, Americans are louder and more annoying.

Why didn't I get an invite? Don't tell me you're grinding up against a stranger right this very moment?

[winterheart]

[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

[hedgemaze]

[Ah. He thought as much.]

And by phone sitting, you mean snooping.

[Straight to it.]

[winterheart]

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

[hedgemaze]

[He can't be rude if he wants. Rude!!]

You're calling me rude, the one snooping around on a phone that doesn't belong to you??

Anyway, I'm not actually very worried. I was going to say that she should say 'hello' to the man she's grinding up against for me. But you've ruined that for me.

[That's a joke. Maybe. Actually, probably not. He's indifferent enough, it seems.]

[winterheart]

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

[hedgemaze]

I've never been to a catholic mass with strobe lights.

Either way, you sound too lucid to be pissed. I know you're "protecting her honor", but shouldn't you be dancing instead of texting? And drinking too much to write coherent sentences? I would.

[Drinking. Not dancing. Unless he wanted to pass out tonight, that is.]

[winterheart]

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.]

[hedgemaze]

[She... definitely is all over the place. James is having trouble deciding which part to reply to first.]

Then you're doing it wrong. Start over, and don't text me again until you're absolutely piss drunk. You're wasting your potential; Candy Crush isn't worth it. Be grateful you're not holed up indoors like I am.

Also, which cousin are you supposed to be exactly?

[winterheart]

[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

[hedgemaze]

[He raises a brow at the screen. He quickly taps back a reply, even as he moves back into his bedroom and lays down on his bed. The cool breeze of the open balcony doors follow him in.]

Is this the part where I respond with lol? For a self-proclaimed comedian, your punchline could use some work.

[In other words, try harder.]

[winterheart]

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

[hedgemaze]

That, or you could just tell me before I grow slowly but completely bored of this text thread.

[winterheart]

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.

[hedgemaze]

If the wedding ever happens. This feels like the longest. Engagement. In history.

[winterheart]

[She stares at the screen. Smirks to herself.]

Sucks being the dude 8)

[hedgemaze]

[jesus...]

Right. I can tell you're so very concerned. As if the woman doesn't suffer, too.

[winterheart]

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

[hedgemaze]

Cake and sangria? The same thing? Really?

You must not be very experienced. How cute.

[winterheart]

[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 >(

[hedgemaze]

You wouldn't.

Unless you wanted me to tell her that you've been flirting with met his entire time through text. How scandalous.

[winterheart]

actually
I think I could leave this conversation in tact and she'd see it and think I was being mean to you

[hedgemaze]

Then why would she listen to someone being mean to her dear fiance? Family or not, surely there's only so much even Lucy will allow.

[Honestly, he's not worried one way or another. This was all just a bit of teasing, anyhow.]