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.

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[James had been told by his father to be on his best behavior when the rest of the Winters family came to visit; he had responded that of course, you don't need to tell me that, and had dismissed Philip Aubel's concerns quite readily. And when their cars roll up in the driveway and Devon's family comes out to greet them, James is all polite smiles, though they are edged with that lingering self-confidence that he can never quite shake completely.

Still, he's a generous host. He allows Devon time to enthusiastically hug her parents and say her hellos properly to everyone. When James is approached, he welcomes them, asks them how their flight was, etc etc. The usual things that a host must do. And he's quietly reaching out to feel their emotions, as well -- there are no surprises; they all seem very happy to see each other. Their emotions match their body language, their expressions.

Except for one, a lingering presence not directly before him...

James' eyes move to the car, where Ian sits, glowering at him. He can't help but raise a brow, vaguely amused at the boy's obvious disapproval. That must be Ian, he thinks to himself.

Later, his father comes out to greet everyone as well, and James lets a bit of the hosting duties defer to him. Simon trots around happily, tail wagging, excited for all the newcomers. In fact, the greyhound senses that there's still someone in the car, and rushes over to where Ian is, barking happily. He's a tall dog, but not quite that tall -- Ian may be able to see his tail wagging through the window, and will properly see Simon in his entirety if he sits up more. (Or even gets out.)]

[The cousins are marveling at the estate after greeting Philip (Aunt Mae and Helena, both gentle women, but with iron wills have to reign in the twins) and Devon steps back to let her parents greet Philip Aubel. Aaron is a tall African American man with short textured hair and a friendly smile. He exudes a laid-back calm, the kind where one felt they could talk about anything to him. Christine was a slender woman with short bobbed brunette hair. She had sharper features and when she spoke, her British accent was still apparent and so were her impeccable manners towards Philip and James, leftover from being part of a wealthy family herself. It's easy to see which features Devon inherited; she had the handsome looks and gentleness of her father while Christine's prettiness was passed down.

Devon felt like she could be walking among the clouds after being reunited with her family. She's all smiles until she realizes that the most important person hasn't exited the car yet. She looks over at Simon who's wagging his tail at her baby brother. She shakes her head smiling before turning to James.]

Simon found Ian. If he can't get him out, I'll haul him out myself.

[Philip Aubel greets them warmly enough, exuding propriety as well as an ingrained good humor. He carries himself as well as one would expect from someone of his situation; his manners are just as impeccable as Christine's, and he speaks with a confidence that must be attributed to the Aubel line. In fact, upon first glance, it's quite easy to see that he and James are related; they share the same nose, the same jawline. Philip has remnants of his handsome features still visible on his face, weathered with age. One can only assume James had gotten his own good looks from his father.

Meanwhile, James is giving Devon an amused look.]

One way or another, the dog shouldn't be the first host that anyone should meet here. [Which is ironic, considering it echoes what his father had told him, the day that Devon arrived.] At least let me go fetch him.

[And James does, walking towards where Simon is -- and as a consequence, where Ian is still sitting in the car.]

Simon, leave the boy alone. [The greyhound looks over to his master, and panting happily, walks over to him and sits. James gazes at Ian through the window, debating on saying something to the boy. Well, it would be rude to ignore him now, at least.

So he's just going to give him a little wave, though one brow cannot help but arch a liiiittle bit in his direction.]

[Devon rolls her eyes because of the irony, but proceeds to allow James to try and get Ian out of the car. It would be a good exercise between the in-laws especially with an age difference as large as theirs. She knows that there's going to be the childish resentment leftover from having to move away from home, but she hopes that her baby brother's maturity shines through in this situation. Hopefully. Maybe.

Ian was smiling down at Simon and even has his hand on the handle... Until he sees James approaching. As a 9 year old child, there is only one thing to do in this situation.

Assume the defensive position.

He drops down from his seat and squats on the car seat floor as if hiding from James who can only see the crown of his curly haired head.]

Edited 2016-12-08 04:46 (UTC)

[Okay, at that... James has to try really hard not to laugh. Because obviously Ian did not want anything to do with him, and so laughing at the boy wouldn't be the proper first impression to make.

(Even so... poor kid.)

As good of a job he's trying to do hiding, it's futile. James decides to step a little closer and knock gently on the glass with his knuckles, to grab the boy's attention. Though his voice might be muffled, he's close enough to be heard clearly regardless.]

Hello.

[As good of a start as anything.]

Wouldn't you like to say "hi" to your sister?

[NOT ANSWERING. Ian is a fairly quiet kid to begin with, especially to strangers. It's only when he hears the sharp voice of Christine, ("Ian Harvey, out of the car!") does he scramble from the car floor and opens the door. Mother, after all is powerful.]

Hi.

[At least he mumbles that to James before jogging over to Devon and wrapping his arms around her instead. Devon beams and gives a big hug back to her brother before looking up at James with a shrug that said, "You tried."]

[He tried indeed. He looks back over at Devon and shrugs with a smile that says, "Oh well," in return. But honestly, he isn't surprised. He has no doubt that Ian probably sees him as taking his sister away from him, and he can't expect to assuage his doubts on the first day alone.]

Come on, Simon.

[James returns to Devon and Ian, with Simon in tow. Simon, still wagging his tail, sniffs at the boy.]

We've collected all the stragglers, then.

[Simon proves to be a good buffer, yet again, allowing Ian to start to relax and reach out to scratch the hound behind his ears. He looks at James in the meanwhile, finally looking him in the eye. The boy still has the remains of childishness in his face, but it's one that will grow up to be quite handsome give some time. He looks more like his father, but there's a seriousness that reflects his mother's side. It's his eyes that give off a deeply piercing look, exuding solemn judgment that wasn't just exclusive to James.]

... I like your dog.

[Well, it's a start.]

[Simon is absolutely loving all this attention, and accepts the ear-scratches happily. James, on the other hand, can feel the piercing stare of the nine year-old; a sentence he never thought he'd experience in his lifetime.

James smiles in response, slightly lopsided.]

And I think he likes you too. His name's Simon.

[Ian isn't sure what to make of James Aubel.

On the one hand, he looks 100% human. Like one of those guy models in magazines Devon and Mom would read sometimes. But the lingering sensation in his veins continues to flow throughout, silently telling him that something is amiss. Yes, James had everything a successful human being could be. He's too young to comprehend what was out of place though.

Ian's no stranger to this sensation, the feeling that certain people and certain places and things were off. The world was not a straight-forward reality as a lot of people are lead to believe and it does frustrate the child who had to learn early on that there were only a few people he could trust with his secret. Devon and Grandpa were the only ones who listened to him seriously. Dad, sometimes. For the most part, Ian's been pretty good about being cautious, using his sharp senses to stay away from danger of all types.

He looks at Simon and back at James.

This is different.]

I thought you weren't going to be here.

[He heard that James worked a lot and didn't see Devon all the time. What kind of man is he?? Dad always came home after work. That's how it should be right?]

Edited 2016-12-08 05:44 (UTC)

[For a moment, James looks confused. Not be here? Why wouldn't he be here to greet them?

And then he realizes that the boy probably means in general, referencing his time here only on the weekends. James tries not to frown.]

I'm almost always here on the weekends. [He'll even be here during the winter now that Devon is living here; a season where he usually did not return at all.] Weekdays, I work in the city. But the holidays will give me more time to take extended visits here. Christmas and New Years, and all that.

Hey, squirt.

[Devon gently interjects, rustling Ian's curly hair.]

Go inside with Mom and Dad to warm up. There's hot cocoa and cookies.

[That seems to get Ian to perk up a bit. It's been a long trip after all and there's no kid that would say no to those sweet treats. He gives Simon one last scratch behind the ears before trotting inside after Aaron and Christine. He glances back, giving one last look at James before going inside. Devon stands up, chuckling.]

Intense for a 9 year old huh? How's it feel, being cross-examined by your brother-in-law?

[He watches him leave, then looks at Devon a little wryly.]

I feel like he was judging every single word I uttered.

[Which might not have been far from the truth. Still, he gives her a grin.]

Not that I can blame him. I'm sure he has no clue what to think about me right now. As far as he's concerned, I'm just some bloody Brit who stole away his sister.

He's judging you more than our dad.

[Hell, it's true. Aaron had greeted James with a firm handshake and a friendly smile, happy to see that his future son-in-law was greeting him properly and that his daughter was healthy and in high spirits.]

Mom might come in a close second for judgement though, even though she doesn't show it.

But see, that I expected. [Parents are always more judgmental when it comes to their children's significant other.] Though don't tell me your mother already doesn't like me?

Well, in her words.

[She clears her throats and speaks in a rather precise and nearly flawless British accent.]

"I've known men likes James Aubel in my youth. They all spell bad news with egos like puffed up balloons that you need to destroy with a bloody nuclear warhead."

[w o w

He scoffs, in half-amusement.]

Men like me? There are no men like me. [He jokes ~~and also proves her point a little~~.] But I hope I can give her less to worry about in the coming days.

I really hope there wouldn't be.

[She gives him a playful and light shove of the elbow.]

Then I wouldn't nearly have as much fun if my fiance wasn't a novelty.

[He feigns offense to that, putting a hand to his chest.]

What? A novelty? Is that what I am to you? A curious plaything?

Oh, how the tables have turned.

C'mon, let's head inside. I can use some of that cocoa myself.

[He drops the act, then nods at her, looking amiable to the idea.]

Fine. How can I say no to that?

[He'll guide her in, hand at the small of her back as they enter the estate.]

[Devon walks inside, quietly relishing James's touch. No matter what happens later on, she doesn't feel lonely anymore thanks to him.

* * *

A few hours after everyone's arrival, lunch, and a tour around the mansion, the family has gone to take a nap. All, except little Ian, who's standing in front of one of the windows, both hands against the pane, looking outside at the lightly frosted garden. He can see the hedge maze from here and it's fascinating... In a morbid way. He didn't have the vocabulary to describe how he felt when looking at it.

The estate was nicer than he imagined. Devon made a lot of paintings and that helped make the inside look more cheerful compared to the outside. The Christmas decorations helped for sure (although there was a soft sadness in Devon's studio, but that had lessened because of his sister's presence and her things).

Simon trots by Ian and then sits down next to him, expecting him to play. Ian looks at the greyhound and says quite seriously:]

I didn't think he'd be nice.

[Well who could he be talking about...]

Edited 2016-12-08 08:55 (UTC)

[Ian isn't as alone as he thinks he is. While James thinks that a nap would be absolutely delightful (he's always partial to naps -- and sleeping in general, if he can afford the time to), he isn't privy to one like the rest, being one of the hosts of the estate. And besides, some of the staff had come up to him with questions (confirming what was to be prepared as their dinner for the evening), and he's just coming back from talking to the chef when he spots Ian pressed against one of the windows. Simon sits next to him, tail wagging slowly.

I didn't think he'd be nice, says the boy, and James has to hold back a chuckle at the remark. Well, it was nice to know that he was making a positive first impression, one way or another.

The way he's going, he's going to pass Ian down the hall, so he might as well make his presence known. He clears his throat, and comes closer, in long strides.]

Looking out at the gardens? If it wasn't so cold out, that would have been part of the tour, but -- well, not much is going to grow to be anything impressive in this weather.

[Ian turns to face James silently regarding him once again. ]

... I'm looking at the maze.

... Does anyone ever get lost there?

[James purses his lips together, briefly, holding back a frown at the mention of the maze. He peers out the same window, to see the hedges in the distance, indeed frosted over by a thin layer of ice.]

...No one really goes in there, anymore. Some of the groundskeepers, I suppose, might forget where they are when they're tending to the hedges, but they usually find their way out. Eventually.

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