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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I think I can accept "cool" if I have to.
[He's satisfied with that, certainly. It's a step up from how Ian was around him when he first visited their estate, not all that long ago.]
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Speaking of which, Devon is looking around, familiarizing herself with the layout once more. She's been quietly harboring emotions towards her return to her home, something that can be felt by both the boys. Wistfulness, yearning, the sense of disconnect and reconnect that happens when one comes back after being away for a long time.
VP follows after Devon as she takes a look at Ian's papers, smiling at some near perfect scores on his latest math tests.]
... No slacking off even while I'm gone huh? Good.
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He thinks to himself that he would miss it more, now that Devon lived there. He's glad that he's able to come with her on this vacation, this time.
He takes in the small details of the house, finding them quaint and novel. Eventually he takes it upon himself to peer over Devon's shoulder at Ian's papers, what with their impressive scores.]
Someone has a mind for numbers.
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[Ian's getting a slight noogie for that from a sister who wrinkles her nose at the truth of that statement.]
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[He smirks a little at the sight of the noogie, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He says, to no one really in particular:]
Though I suppose I knew crunching numbers was never something I'd want to grow into.
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[The young boy decides to grab his papers and stuff them in his backpack, lest his mother and sister bother him about leaving a mess in the kitchen.]
A lot of things in the world don't make sense to me, but numbers do. Helps me focus.
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You know what they say about the universe and entropy. [Actually, he doesn't know if Ian does or not, but there's no point in patronizing the boy. He's clever enough.] In a universe of disorder, it's nice to know that there are few defining rules still holding the world together.
Besides, being good at math can impress all sorts of women when you're older.
[James.........]
1/2
This is what you gotta deal with?
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You haven't seen him at his worst.
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Excuse you, but what is that supposed to mean, dearest?
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I'm nine.
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[It's obvious that he's just picking on Ian in a harmless, amusing way at this point.]
1/2
C'mon man, don't be gross!
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[VP barks as if in agreement and Devon looks at the new dog and points to him with an approving nod.]
I like the cut of his jib.
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I see how it is. Everyone gang up on the British man.
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[Ian grins at James cheekily.]
It wasn't gonna be easy even with us as part of the family.
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I guess one must go through the initiation rituals sooner rather than later.
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We rib on you, but we love you. Don't we Ian?
[Ian continues the joke by making an uncertain gesture with his head and then shrugging.
It never ends.]
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[But anyone can tell from James' cheeky grin that he's hardly worried. He reaches out to put an arm around Devon when she leans her head against his shoulder.]
Tired from the flight? Maybe you should get some rest for now while we wait for your parents to get back.
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[Devon stands up and VP uses the extra room to lay his head down. The canine seems to be comfortable with James since its human masters already get along with him affectionately. Good human, good James. Devon makes her way to the stairs and waves to the boys.]
I'll let Ian keep you company a bit. I'll be back down soon.
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His other hand goes to pet VP as he lazes next to him. James glances over at Ian.]
I imagine the jet lag will do me in soon, too. It's only a matter of time.
[Having to adjust his internal clock has always been a pain on overseas trips, but he manages to do it more easily than most men.]
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Um. Hey.
... There aren't any birds around anymore, right?
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His tone is low when he replies.]
...No. Not recently. I took care of the issue.
[Temporarily or permanently, though, who knows? He's hesitant to say one way or another.] She hasn't been sleepwalking since.
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[The young boy doesn't know whether to be relieved or remain uncertain.]
... That guy. He wasn't there again...??
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No, he was there. [But he should really spare Ian the violent details.] But like I said, I took care of it.
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