finalflight | psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]

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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.

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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

[He shakes his head, downing his cheesecake with impressive efficiency.]

Don't feel bad about it. You're family. Dropping everything to help each other comes with the territory; otherwise, you're family by name only, and little else.

[He thinks briefly back on his own childhood, his own experiences with his family that weren't always very positive. But the thought is shrugged away in favor of continuing.]

Though I do think that Devon is a bit difficult to... ah, pull away from her current responsibilities at the moment. A wedding is a very difficult thing to plan. Women fuss over all the little details, all the time. Best to stay out of their paths, that's my thinking.

Yeah.

Before you know it, the both of us are gonna fall into the dark abyss ourselves...

[ian please don't sound like you have no hope anymore you're nine]

...You're a bit far from the edge of the "abyss".

[He reaches over to lightly nudge him on the shoulder.]

You're nine.

[Ian manages a grin at that.]

Well. We'll see after we go rescue the dog, right?

* * *

[After they're done with their pick-me-up at the cafe, Ian leads James back to their neighborhood, past the Winters household and farther back in a more neglected corner of the area. It's hard to miss the overgrown house, stuffed with leaves, branches and a looming tree that hovers over the rooftop, it's branches going through the windows. Its roots are so thick that it cracks and peeks through the concrete of the asphalt they walk on.

Ian looks at the house from outside the fence, gripping the straps of his backpack.]

... I tried calling VP out before I had to go and catch my bus. I'm really worried. He didn't reply with any barking.

[Well, this is a lovely sight, he thinks to himself wryly, looking up at the house before them. The branches of the large tree casts strange shadows that flicker across the structure, and James crosses his arms.]

We'll find him regardless. Maybe he's just found himself stuck in a closet with a broken latch.

[Might as well remain optimistic for Ian's sake, despite a strange sense of... what was it? A feeling of ominousness?

Frowning, James reaches out with his mind, projecting towards the house, seeing what he can pick up. He even offers a quiet little (Hello?), as if expecting a response of some sort. He doesn't know what they're dealing with, after all. Better safe than sorry.]

[The sound that meets with James mental probing, is something akin to a growl that may not be heard outwardly, but inwardly, it reverberates their very beings. It seems to be so effective that even Ian begins to tremble and then looks up at James.]

Did... Did you hear that?

[James grimaces a little, severing the connection almost immediately. Alright, so not a very friendly sort of... whatever it was, lurking around in there.]

I did. Sounds like someone is having a bad day.

[Only one thing to do, then. He opens the small wooden gate connected to the fence (one that's barely holding on by its hinges) and takes the first step onto the property. The lawn is overgrown and the grass bends under James' shoes.]

We won't find VP by just standing around. Stay close behind me.

[Ian trots next to James, holding back a gulp. As they walk further in, the scent that Ian mentioned seems to grow stronger. It could be dismissed as simply the plants and the weeds giving the property the odd odor, but there's something unfamiliar about it, a scent that couldn't have words put to it. Ian covers his nose as he reaches the front door which is already open ajar.]

Ugh! Whatever's in there really stinks.

[James makes a disapproving noise, having to bring a hand to briefly cover his nose as the smell wafts towards them in a wave.]

Hardy smells like any decomposing plants I've ever come across. [And he would know -- he's had more than enough experience with plants in his time.] I'd say breathe through your mouth, but then again, that might be a worse idea.

[James swings open the front door, and the odor just grows stronger; it doesn't stop him from stepping in, however, gazing around. He doesn't see VP anywhere nearby.]

[The young boy covers his mouth with one hand and looks around worriedly. As they look around, they'll see that the walls are covered in vines, that look different from the plant life outside. The leaves are of a darker hue, like a green tinted with black. Ian narrows his eyes at the vines and points to them.]

Does that look like anything you recognize? Maybe that's what the smell is.

[His eyes then follow to see where the vines originate from. There's a door on the side of a wall in the long hallway and he moves towards there.]

These leaves... No, I've not seen anything like this before. [He moves close to examine one.] It's like they've been tainted by something.

[His thoughts are interrupted as Ian moves towards a door down a long hallway. He steps in front of him before he can get much further.]

Don't rush off. You don't know what's behind that door. [He'll lead him cautiously down the hallway, instead, eying the vines.]

Oh, yeah. [He's got the impatience and restless as expected of a kid after all, so it's a good thing James is with him.]

That room probably leads to a basement. I don't think VP could have gone upstairs with all those branches in the way.

Just what I was looking forward to -- lurking around in the dark basement of an abandoned, overgrown house. Weren't you?

[He's joking, with that sarcastic edge of his. It's an attempt to keep the atmosphere light, despite the trepidation in the air.

James opens the door, squinting. They should have brought a torch with them, shouldn't they? Too late now.

At least he's not hearing anymore growling noises in his head, he thinks.]

Well, it was either this or do my book report.

[Whether that's a jest or not, the point is, that it bounces off well with James' sarcasm. Speaking of light though, Ian reaches into his backpack and takes out his own cell phone, tapping it a few times, until the back of it lights up, making for a decent flashlight in itself.]

Okay, so basement, basement... Oh. The leaves are getting bigger that way.

[He shines the light on a smaller door and what he says is true. The black-green leaves are getting bigger and the vines thicker as it goes towards the underground.]

If VP's down there, that means that door isn't locked. Hopefully.

[Ah- good idea, Ian. He hadn't thought about that, too caught up in the mystery of the odd plants and vines. James digs in his pocket and pulls out his phone, flipping on the flashlight mode. It shines in conjunction with Ian's, which helps them see much better than before.

Of course, he's merely met with the sight of more unearthly vines, thicker and with larger leaves.]

Hopefully. [He reaches out with his free hand and cautiously opens up the door. Looks like it wasn't locked.] VP...? [-he calls out, wondering if his voice will garner any sort of response, canine or otherwise.]

[The basement is rather large in area, emptied of useful items and furniture, but filled to the brim with the leaves and vines that are now gigantic in size when they go downstairs. What's different this time, is that there are also little flowers, strangely shaped blossoms that give off an eerie glow as their flashlights shine on them. And the scent they've been smelling all along emanates from the flowers, indescribable and unearthly. Ian has to rub his nose with his sleeve to adjust to it.]

So that's where it's coming from? Flowers down here??

[And now that they're so close, there's this vibration of life instead of stillness associated with plants, the feeling that they're surrounded by something breathing and sentient. Ian moves closer to James, even putting one hand on the older man's sleeve.]

I wish they sold kids blow torches for stuff like this.

[The sight causes James to freeze a little in a sharp spike of caution. The larger vines and leaves, perhaps, were to be expected. But when he catches sight of those flowers (glowing, alien, their smell indescribable), that's when James really does feel a strange spike of anxiety.

Because all around himself, he can sense more than just the steady feeling of life that all plants emanate, their very essences. There's something more; it's a sentience. And for some reason, it's almost as if they've stepped right into its maw.

He's glad Ian is keeping close. He points his phone's light at one of the flowers.]

I think I agree with you, Ian.

[He sets his jaw, swallowing.] So, I have a theory. I'm sure it makes me sound mental, but I'll share it with you anyway. There's something decidedly unearthly about this flora, and I mean that quite... literally.

For real? [Ian replies to James with a disbelieving tone of voice that's only tempered by the fact that for one, he's known for a while that James himself isn't completely normal and that Ian's always been aware of things that were unearthly. But to be face to face and surrounded by it in a physical sense is something else entirely.

The boy gulps and shines his light around, trying not to take in the scent of the flowers. And then he sees...]

VP!!

[The three legged dog is laying inside the biggest blossom that has bloomed in the basement, big enough to be the size of a dog bed even, as if he was going to be enveloped by the petals at any moment. The canine's sleeping face is calm, if sedated. Above him, there's a bigger flower that hangs above on the ceiling like some kind of lamp. Ian wants to run over, but he looks up at James first to let him make the call instead of just being reckless.]

[At the sight of VP lying there in a gigantic blossom, the first thing that James does is clutch at Ian's shoulder so that he doesn't dart off. As concerned as they both are about the poor canine, the last thing they need is either one of them falling face-first into a trap.]

Hold on a moment. Let's be careful; I hate to say it, but I don't trust any of these flowers to not snap us up at a moment's notice.

[But he's not against the both of them walking closer to get a better look, slowly, and he does just that.] He doesn't look hurt. Just sleeping... sedated, almost. [He cranes his neck up, to see the flower on the ceiling not that far away from where they're standing.

He's not sure what to do, but since James senses sentience, he attempts to reach out with his mind once more. He wonders if it'll provoke some sort of reaction.]

(Can you hear me? That's our dog. Release him.)

[Bloody thing probably doesn't even understand me, he thinks to himself.]

(... ɦŪהɢŔ¥)

[A distorted and mangled voice replies to James. The petals of the gigantic blossom rustles and Ian shudders even though he doesn't hear James or the plant talking. He just feels that it's alive, that it's dangerous, that they're dealing with something that might be out of their league.

Despite not hearing anything, Ian's got enough common sense to figure out the possibilities of why VP was attracted to the smell, why his dog now lies there, barely moving. He whispers to James.]

Is... Is it gonna eat him?

[That settles it, then. This alien plant was certainly not of this world, and definitely didn't plan on treating VP in a very peaceful manner. But the voice is distorted and mangled, barely understandable. James feels as if he comprehends its intent, its emotions, more than the actual words.]

I think it plans on it. But we're not going to let that happen, are we?

[And, naturally, to the plant:] (Then let a rat crawl into your flowery maw, but not this dog. Whatever it is you are.)

(... ɦŪהɢŔ¥ ... ɦŪהɢŔ¥... ĦЦИǤR￥ĦЦИǤR￥ĦЦИǤR￥ĦЦИǤR￥ĦЦИǤR￥!!!!)

[The alien flower is practically shrieking at James while its leaves and blossoms quiver angrily all around them, giving off more of that hideous odor. Ian coughs and then kneels down to take off his backpack, unzipping it and then rustling around, trying to do some quick thinking. The only thing he has are sharp pencil and pens (what is he gonna do, stab the flower? Bad idea), his papers, empty lunchbox and...

... An extra large cookie he bought for himself from the cafe, studded with poppy seeds, fragrant with the scent of lemon. He rips off the plastic wrap.]

Do you think we can feed it this?

Ugh-! [James clutches at his head while the plant screams at him, gritting his teeth. Looks like this one wasn't a very eloquent alien plant, and with a one-track mind to boot.

He glances over at Ian, and despite himself, scoffs at the cookie.] Why the hell not? Throw it in a flower, maybe it'll distract the blasted thing.

[Meanwhile, James figures he'll do his own sort of distraction. He focuses, flooding the plant with emotion -- negative, just as he had done before with the giant crow creature. He's careful not to let it leak towards Ian, and James rushes forward to attempt to scoop up VP before things become too insane.]

[After James grabs the dog, Ian throws and lands a perfectly timed toss into the middle of the large blossom. The flowers and vines are practically shaking at this point, as if being affected by an earthquake. It's in pain, but the scent of the treat entices it and in its weakness for some sort of sustenance, the flower above meets with the one below letting out a feral sort of eating noise as it feasts on the cookie. Ian yells when he sees the flower move and eat with such force and he makes for the door.]

We're done here, let's move!

[Soccer training, GO. Ian's a swift runner and he's out the door in a jiffy.]

[What a sight that is, watching the alien plant devour the cookie with such ferocity. James steps back, looking at it with something akin to disgust.]

Bloody hell...

[But you know what? Ian's got a great idea, and James turns and follows him, VP in tow. He runs as fast as he can, trying to remain cognizant of any vines that might trip him up in the dark.]

The faster we're out of here, the better!

psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]

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