finalflight | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mm hm. [James goes over to sit down next to Devon.]

I guess one must go through the initiation rituals sooner rather than later.

[Devon does take the opportunity to lean her head against James' shoulder a casual, but affectionate gesture. And she's tired from the plane ride.]

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.]

Edited 2016-12-22 01:53 (UTC)

Oh, yes, I can feel the love practically radiating from here.

[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.

Mm. A little. I guess could check out to see what they did with my room while I was away...

[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.

[James gives her a little wave in return, smiling as she disappears up the stairs.

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.]

[Ian waits until Devon is out of sight before he turns to look at James. He seems to be reluctant to bring up a particular topic, but then settles to whisper to him.]

Um. Hey.

... There aren't any birds around anymore, right?

[His smile falters, and James straightens a bit, setting his jaw. He supposes it was only a matter of time before Ian asked.

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.

Devon tells us if she's done that every week or not. Mom and Dad were really happy that she hasn't been doing that for a while.

[The young boy doesn't know whether to be relieved or remain uncertain.]

... That guy. He wasn't there again...??

[He scoffs, but there's certainly no humor in it.]

No, he was there. [But he should really spare Ian the violent details.] But like I said, I took care of it.

[The boy falls quiet for a moment and he moves over to sit next to the dog that's in between him and James. He pets VP's back and nods without looking at James.]

You're alright.

[He remembers what James said he would do for Devon after all.]

{He's silent for a moment, and then the vague smile returns. If there was one thing they shared, it was a deep concern for Devon.]

"Cool" and "alright"? I don't think I can handle all the flattering adjectives in one day.

Okay.

I'll make sure I'll stop the compliments right now.

No, please, don't stop.

[He makes a wide gesture with his hands, teasing like a pro.]

They're my bread and butter.

I'm sure you're fine without 'em, just like how Devon's probably stingy with hers for you.

[This is it, the pinnacle of brother-in-law-ing.]

And how would you know? Maybe she lavishes her compliments to me daily.

Nah. She's not the type to do that.

[Ian sounds firm in his assumption.]

... When she moved in with you, I thought she was gonna change actually. Maybe be more sad, maybe she would be kinda gross and smooching all the time like some couples are.

But it doesn't seem like that... [He looks over at James thoughtfully.]

More like... The same, but different.

I thought she might've been sadder, too. I half expected it, actually.

[He thought that no one could have been happy uprooted from their home the way Devon was. He thought that she might come to hate him because of it. And at the time, he merely accepted that fact.

How things change.]

I'm glad that wasn't the case. I'd rather make her happy instead; though I'm sure you'd rather me spare you the "mushy" sentiments.

[Ian purses his lips. He leans on VP's back as he continues to look at James.]

Wouldn't you want to make someone you like happy?

I imagine in most cases, yes. But when I first met her, I wasn't sure if I'd like her the way I do now. And I was sure she was going to dislike me.

... She said it took both of you a month to talk to each other. Like REALLY talk to each other.

Did you try anything during that time?

[ian feels like he's being a weird pre-marriage counselor, why this]

[uh oh here we go again...]

...Define "try"?

...

Why does she like you again?

[Look, he's 9, Devon's 27, he's got leeway]

...

Because I'm handsome, clever, and good... [in bed, he almost says, but thank god he catches himself before he does] ...to her?

You could have asked her about stuff like... I dunno. Movies. What she was like when she was little. If she hates peas.

[A beat. Ian wrinkles his nose.]

Man, I'm nine. Why do I know this stuff?!

It never... occurs to me to go out of my way to ask people these things. Not if I don't know them well enough to. Honestly, I've had no reason to up until now.

[Ian, this man is an alien. He's been living as a human for 20+ years but there is still a weirdness about him that he'll never be able to completely shake off, endless charisma or otherwise.]

Sometimes those questions just feel too hollow to be sincere.

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clearsight - 2016-12-22 05:58 (UTC) - Expand

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