ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ᴀᴜʙᴇʟ ǝɹnʇɐǝⅎ ǝɹnʇɐǝɹɔ ǝɥʇ (
hedgemaze) wrote in
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.

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Finally, a muffled:]
You're not even closed to pissed. [He can tell. He can feel it himself, and he's finding himself selfishly borrowing a bit of that clear-headedness for his own sake.]
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[But he's right, especially if she's quipping back that quickly. Devon reaches over to pat his cheek.]
Looks like I get to sleep peacefully tonight. Shame, really.
[Is she gloating? MAYBE]
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He tries to brush off her hand. It's a half-hearted gesture.]
Your loss. Truly is a shame. ...Your loss. [You just said that.]
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[Gonna be texting their driver the street to meet on so that he can drive up to them.]
I'd offer you some consoling, but I think it's important we all see tonight as a learning experience.
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[He lifts his head to look at her, and even plastered, his smug smile is nearly the same as it was before.]
What? To make bets that only you know you can win?
[To be fair, he was pretty confident with this one.]
Regardless, I'll still take a bit of consoling from you.
[He just never stops. He's just less eloquent about it when he's drunk.]
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I'll think about it on the way home.
For now, can you stand and walk? I don't expect a straight line, but let's see how you do so we can meet up with the driver.
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[It's meant to be a joke, but when he stands (quite suddenly, as if to prove a point), he's a little wobbly. He has to keep his hand on the bar to stay stable.]
Standing and walking... just bloody fine.
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[Devon sighs, and takes one arm, slinging it over her shoulders.]
I feel like it would have taken me two or three more pubs to bring me down. I honestly had no idea I would still be standing.
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No... no, it's not your fault. Don't think that it is.
[He knows that it isn't. She doesn't even know, does she?]
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I feel a little bad because I had fun. Think you'll be okay in the morning? I can... You know help out.
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I'm fine. I'm fine, Devon. I... recover from this sort of thing quickly. Always... always have.
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I'll be fine if I give it a fix, you know?
[A beat.]
... I wonder if that's the reason why it's hard to get drunk...
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Hm? ...You mean... [Your heart? By some way of miracle, he bites his tongue.] Your special talents?
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I mean, it explains a lot if if you think about it. Kind of an involuntary system maintenance?
[She gestures with her hand and shrugs, leaning against James slightly.]
Whatever. I'm just glad we got to go drinking like heathens together.
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[He prods at her shoulder to highlight his point, but he doesn't sound annoyed.]
It was... fun. I think. Ask me again later. Pretty sure that the... ah, the shots... The shots, they tasted like bollocks.
[He's exaggerating, but he's also drunk, so the two go hand in hand.]
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[Their car can be seen in the distance, slowly driving up to them.]
C'mon, you enjoyed at least one of those shots.
[YOU KNOW THE ONE.]
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[Not a very triumphant sort of threat, coming from someone so wobbly on his feet.
Finally, the car comes around, and the both of them manage to pile into the back (with a bit of help from Devon, no less). The driver arches a brow at the state of the youngest Aubel, but if he has anything to say about it, he keeps it to himself. There's a spark of amusement, though, as he asks, "Back home, then?"]
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[Devon grins and gives a thumbs up at the driver with a nod. When the car starts, she pats James' shoulder.]
Hey. You can lay in my lap if you want.
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[He chuckles, but when she invites him to rest his head on her lap, James doesn't hesitate to do so. He lies down across the backseat and finds that, when he does take her up on her offer, she feels quite warm. Comforting.
He's looking straight up at her. He feels like he could fall asleep like this.]
You know... Devon... you may have to carry me to my bedroom at this rate. If you take terrible advantage of me after you do, well... I can keep a secret.
[James... he never changes. And right in front of their driver, too.]
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Just. Please. You're drunk.
[And she can't carry him, geez! But she's thinking about at least sleeping next to him. That she can handle.]
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And look at your face... now you're really red, redder than in any pub.
[He chuckles again and closes his eyes.]
No need to, you know, deny your... natural urges...
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Her fingers brush his bangs out of his face and she rolls her eyes.]
I think you should listen to yours and go to sleep. It's going to be a long ride.
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Hm. You'd like that... wouldn't you? A... long ride...
[Even as he's falling asleep, he doesn't change. But fall asleep he does, and Devon won't hear much else from him for the rest of the car ride, except for his steady breathing.]
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He's a bit much.
Whoopsy-daisy.
[It's super late, but the driver graciously helped Devon to get James upstairs into his room, without comment before retiring for the night himself. Exhaustion has caught up to her as well and it only really hits her once she lays down next to James, after taking a deep breath and yawning.]
Wow. God, I'm not drunk, but I might as well be.
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He's even possesses enough awareness to feel his mattress sink next to him, and he turns his head to catch a glance of Devon laying down.]
...Looks like I got you into my bedroom anyway. A win for me.
[He shifts his weight a bit, and some part of him is telling him his clothes are going to be so wrinkled in the morning, but he just... doesn't care enough right now.]
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