ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ᴀᴜʙᴇʟ ǝɹnʇɐǝⅎ ǝɹnʇɐǝɹɔ ǝɥʇ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hedgemaze) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
finalflight2016-11-30 10:45 pm
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.
no subject
Yes, I can see that much. [He can't help the faint edge of sarcasm in his tone, finding it difficult to not rely on it when he doesn't understand what's happening.] But it was so... sudden. Almost as if he was just faking it before.
[Which is, of course, preposterous. Dogs don't fake being sick. Simon had actually looked very ill. But now, his dog is anything but -- so much that he hears someone walking around downstairs (probably one of the staff), and decides to dart away, probably heading down the stairs. James just watches him go in faint disbelief, then moves towards Devon.
She seems a bit off, as if she had just exerted herself in some way. James quietly reaches out to feel her state of mind, and is hit with a sense of lightheadedness.]
...Are you all right?
no subject
[Devon gestures with one hand, trying to be casual and not at all strange even if they're both aware that she is not being normal whatsoever. When was the last time she exerted that much energy into healing? She usually only put effort into Ian's scrapes and bruises, into the animals he brought home that were injured in minor ways. It had been a while since she... Prolonged something's life. That was uncharted territory.
But it worked. Rubbing her forehead tiredly, she decides to try and find her words and see if she can explain herself to James. It's not like she can really hide this for a prolonged period of time.]
I don't... I'm not sure how I do it. But I made Simon better.
no subject
You can just... make things better?
[Or was she the one getting sick? Making her say and believe such things? He brings the back of his hand up to her forehead, feeling her temperature. It seems fine.]
That isn't normal, you know. For a young woman to do.
[It's a strained attempt at a joke, probably failing terribly. But he doesn't know how else to react. People don't just... fix things in that way. Not unless they're unusual, like him. But there's no one quite like him.]
no subject
I still sleepwalk at 27. I think we passed "normal" a little while ago.
no subject
Do you think the two are related?
[He remembers her text, about her telling him that she felt her grandfather was keeping secrets from her. This entire thing reeks of secrets.]
no subject
[She puts her arms around herself, looking vulnerable, uncertain, tired.]
Only my grandfather and Ian know. I never did that in front of my parents.
no subject
It's wise of you to tell me. I imagine I would have found out sooner rather than later. [He looks her over, and something about Devon just looks so... vulnerable. It makes his empathy spike -- that natural tendency of his to want for others to feel better around him, even if life has stamped out the amiability in him.]
I... won't tell anyone. I'm assuming you don't want me to. And... thank you. For helping Simon. [He swallows, looking over to where Simon had disappeared off to.] Despite it making you uncomfortable, you did it anyway.
no subject
Simon's joyful bark in the distance interrupts her train of thought. The noise lightens up the atmosphere even more so compared to before.]
... You're welcome.
I figured that... Well, he's good company. And... I thought I could do something. For you.
[It's almost shy, the way she says that last part.]
You go and settle down. You just got back from work after all and I need to clean my studio up.
no subject
He grins, trying to make it look smug, but he can't help but lace it with sincerity as well. He reaches out, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it a little.]
You, doing something for me? It should be the other way around, don't you think?
[He drops his arm, then gives a small shrug.]
I'll be here if you need me. Don't push yourself too hard, Devon.
[And with that, he'll turn away to make his way downstairs for now.]
> Ɲιgнт ƜαƖкιηg
See ya.
[With Simon's crisis averted, Devon returns to her studio to pick up some papers and start planning some new projects. Outside of her window, there is a crow perched on a ledge, watching, waiting, and then it flies away, with no one aware that it was there to begin with.]
[With the combined effort put into Simon's recovery and her cleaning her studio and starting her largest painting, Devon's tired herself out more than she expected. When night falls and dinner with the Aubel's is done, she walks upstairs, retiring to her room expecting a pleasant dreamless sleep.
But the door remains unlocked.
She had forgotten to remind the staff to double check her door for her. They were all vaguely aware of her condition, but she had been doing fine locking it for herself that they felt she wasn't going to bother them too much about it if she was taking care of it. But tonight, that would prove unwise.
It's about 11:30 PM, close to midnight, but not quite. The lights around the estate are dimmed down and most of the staff are resting or working in further distant spots, away from the living residents. On the second floor, Devon, without making a sound, slowly sits up. She's dressed in sleeping shorts and a long sleeved shirt, her hair tied in a braid. Her eyes are half lidded and dazed as she makes her way over to the door, turning the knob and glides across the hallway as if being pulled.
Simon notices first of course. Devon walks down the stairs, one hand on the railing and then goes towards the exit that leads to the gardens. The greyhound follows her for a minute or two, thinking she was awake to play. But then she walks outside, further and further away from Simon, past the roses...
The canine barks and dashes upstairs. There's whimpering and whining outside of James's door and another harsh bark.
Wake up.
WAKE UP.]
no subject
Simon...? [He murmurs, when the greyhound scratches at his door and barks again. He pulls himself out of his bed and opens the door, frowning. The floor feels cold on his bare feet; otherwise, he's dressed in his night clothes, a loose fitting black sleep shirt with long sleeves, and drawstring pajama pants to match.
Simon immediately turns around and heads down the hall, obviously wanting James to follow.] What's gotten into you? [James blinks the sleep from his eyes, but he's starting to get a bad feeling about this. His pace quickens as he moves down the hall, down the stairs, and straight out the door. He hesitates, not wanting to traipse around outside in his night clothes, and with bare feet at that.
That is, until Simon barks in the direction of Devon, a small figure in the distance by now, lit only by moonlight, heading past the roses and towards the convoluted maze further back.]
Oh, hell... [James is certainly awake, now. He runs across the expansive green lawn, his lungs already yelling at him for exerting himself in such a way. He ignores it, for now.] Devon! Devon! [He curses to himself. She's already so far away.]
no subject
And soon she's at the entrance of the maze. There's a pause as if she's heard something, someone, external, but... Regardless, she moves forward and makes her first turn at the right.
(On top the hedges there are five, no six crows, they're all watching her with beady eyes, they look up to see the human man and the canine beast. Even out here in this faraway land, across the ocean, there is always someone, something that disrupts them, that disrupts their voice calling for her. They need to lose them in the future.)]
no subject
Simon trots close next to him, whining a little. When they reach the maze, the canine stops in hesitation. His owner disappears into the hedges without him, and Simon lifts his head upwards to bark at the crows his human master didn't notice.
James, on the other hand, presses forward -- before he realizes that there's barely any light in the maze at night, only the dull rays of moonlight filtering through the hedges to guide him. He mentally chides himself for being so thoughtless, to run out here without a torch, but there's nothing he can do about it now. He calls out:]
Devon? Where are you?!
[Maybe she'd hear him and wake up. James reaches out a hand to feel at the hedges, letting his memory and the sensation of the leaves guide him. He turns right, walking hurriedly while trying to peer in the darkness ahead. Reaching out with his mind, he wonders if he can locate her more easily, but for some reason he's met with nothing more than an eerie... blankness.]
no subject
It's a stroke of luck, extremely dumb even. She moves too closely to the surface of the hedges and while it is meticulously maintained, there is a stray branch, that scratches and drags across her cheek, startling her awake.]
OW!
[She yells loud enough for James to be able to hear and locate her. Devon blinks, once, three times, rapidly, and the outside cold wrapped around her bare legs, the tiny streak of blood running down her streak, the darkness and the unfamiliar scenery in front of her hits her too fast.]
Oh god... Ohgodohgodohgod.
[As typical with sleepwalking (as if this was anything, but typical) Devon does not recall anything. She just remembers laying in her warm bed at first and then suddenly she's outside. The feeling of displacement is strong and she hugs herself, collapsing to the ground breathing heavily. When will this stop? When will it go away? What keeps doing this to her?]
no subject
However, he holds relief at bay until he can locate her. Her voice came from northwest of here, and he winds through the maze, hand still out to guide him in the dark. Finally, he turns, and in the faint moonlight he can see her figure collapsed on the ground. She looks small and scared.
James rushes towards her, sucking in deep breaths for his own benefit, and falls to his knees next to her, trying to peer at her face. He puts an arm around her shoulders, concern in his voice.]
Devon, it's me. Are you hurt?
[Is that... blood on her face? Did she cut herself on the hedges?]
no subject
Where... Where am I?
[It's so dark and Devon's still trying to sort out her panicked thoughts. All she can really see are James and the tall leafy walls around them.]
... The maze?
no subject
Yes, the maze. You wandered all the way out here, and you're lucky Simon woke me up to find you before you got lost.
[Because waking up in the middle of the night, lost in the hedge maze? Probably not fun for anyone.]
Can you stand and walk? I'll lead us out of here.
no subject
I didn't lock my door, I...
no subject
Let's just get out of here, shall we? Stay close, it's difficult to see.
[And he turns around to lead her out, slowly retracing his steps, his free hand out to guide him against the hedge walls. He makes a weak attempt at a joke to lighten the mood.]
Trying to keep me on my toes, aren't you?
no subject
It's one thing after another isn't it?
no subject
[The weave in and out through the maze for a bit longer. His feet are cold, now, but he ignores it.]
So count your blessings.
[Finally, the exit to the hedge maze appears in view. Simon sits a few yards away, looking anxious.]