#especially when chistopher is at the heart of it both times

[cant-think-of-anything]

Pirate AU (Part Nine)

Kamala sought out Grace as soon as she returned back to their own ship. 

It wasn’t a difficult task, Grace was always lurking down near the lower levels when Kamala tried to find her. She desperately needed to talk to her before Tatiana recovered, before Tatiana tried to get into her daughter’s head as she always did.

“Grace!” She called, making her way down the winding pathways.

Before she could shout again she caught a glimpse of her, sitting cross legged on one of the empty beds that was meant to belong to a military official. Like most things in their life, the ship was stolen.

“What do you want?” Grace sighed irritably.

“You can’t be enjoying this,” Kamala said softly, approaching the girl carefully. 

“Why wouldn’t I be? They deserve it after all.”

“Oh? Alastair Carstairs deserved to be jailed and sent to trail?”

Kamala was worried about him too. She knew the London government wouldn’t take mercy on a dark-skinned foreigner, especially one with a vague backstory that could easily crumble upon closer examination. 

Grace stiffened, discomfort seizing her face for a moment. “If that’s what it takes.”

“I know you think that your mother is right, that these families deserve to suffer. But Tatiana lies.” 

“They killed my family,” Grace hissed. “Why should I have mercy?”

“Tatiana may not be responsible for her husband’s death but she certainly played a role in her son’s death.” 

Her eyes went wide. “Jesse?” Suddenly there was no hostility in her voice anymore. Just pain.

“Before I joined Tatiana I tried to dig up information about her. She let Jesse become sick and she let him die. Some sort of crude point to the Herondales, that if they wronged her they would have blood on their hands. And when that wasn’t enough she went after their children. Please Grace. I’ll prove it to you if I have to,” She gently laid a hand on the younger girls shoulder.  “But don’t let your mother take another child’s life.” 

~~~

Alastair inwardly groaned when he heard the door open once more. It had been doing that all morning, or at least, he assumed it was morning. He wondered if all prisoners were told so little about their situations. Even more unfortunately a rather unpleasant man was questioning him. 

“Where were you born?” Charles Fairchild asked, his bright red hair giving Alastair an intense headache.

“Paris,” He responded, which was true enough.

Charles gave him a skeptical look which he leveled with a glare. Honestly were all English people so dim-witted? 

“I would like to speak with my sister,” Alastair said before Charles could question his place of birth further. 

“You are in no place to make demands.” 

Alastair smiled lightly. Careful not to reveal anything true, he leaned forward. “Aren’t I? Fairchild, the youngest of the two is known to frequent scandalous places but the eldest is a reserved politician with a lovely fiance. So why was said eldest Fairchild seen multiple times near a bar reserved for rather improper activities among the youth? I could dig deeper if I wished but I don’t believe either of us want that.”

Charles had turned an alarming shade of red. At least he matched his hair now. 

“So,” Alastair said tilting his head to one side. “My sister?”

~~~

Cordelia’s first choice for any venture would’ve obviously been Lucie, but she found herself quite amused in Ms. Lightwood’s company. 

“You seem to be quite distracted lately,” Cordelia started, her voice low but clear in the chatter of the London streets. She’d been beyond relief to get a permit to visit her brother earlier in the morning, but she felt nerves build up thinking of what was to come. 

“Haven’t we all?”

“Not in that way,” Cordelia responded, grinning when Eugenia’s face flushed. 

“And you are an exception? Is staring at Lucie a hobby of yours then?”

Cordelia sputtered, and Eugenia laughed. 

“So I was right! Delightful. Tell me all about it darling.”

Cordelia’s face heated up. She knew she wasn’t being subtle with her yearning but she hadn’t expected someone to pick up on it quite so fast. “I don’t know what to say about it-or to her. The timing of it all seems horrendous. I don’t even know how she feels about me. We’re friends aren’t we?”

Eugenia snorted, “Oh you’re certainly more than friends. I don’t see you wistfully gazing at me or Thomas.” 

“You and Thomas seem to have your own people to gaze at,” She retorted, smiling when Eugenia stopped talking. She wanted to ask but she also didn’t want to push.

“We’re here,” Cordelia said, instead regarding the building with distaste. “Stuffy nobles and their stuffy rooms with their-” She broke off and looked guiltily at Eugenia. “I apologize.” 

Eugenia simply looked amused as they stepped inside, following the person leading them to the jail room. “Don’t apologize. I’m rather tired of it myself. I wish-” 

She was cut off by their guide opening the doors and saying “Five minutes. That’s all.”

Cordelia pushed past him, running to where her brother glanced up from his book, a half amused, half worried look on his face. Where he managed to get a book in prison was beyond her. She wrapped her hand around the metal bars.

“What do we do?” She whispered, horrified by the desperation in her voice. “How do we get out of this?”

Alastair didn’t respond for a moment, brief concentration flickering over his face before he responded, “The trail will be private. I have an idea but you’ll need to create a distraction for me.”

“Distraction? Of what kind?”

“Anything that will take their eyes off me.” Then he stopped. “But please Layla, do try not to destroy the entire city in the process.” 

She glared at that, flicking his arm lightly though inside, she felt a bit of worry dissipate. “Fine. I will. Will you be alright? This prison seems rather cramped.”

“There are worse.” 

“I suppose so.” Her voice went low. “Did they hurt you? On the ship?”

“No. They didn’t.”

Cordelia wanted to believe her brother but Alastair had mastered the art of spinning stories to soften both his pain and hers. Before she could push any further she felt Eugenia’s hand grip her shoulder. Cordelia nodded, pulling away from the cell.

“A distraction. We can manage that.”

~~~

Lucie tapped her fingers anxiously against the counter she was seated on, the repetitive noise drowned out by the chaos that was Christopher’s lab. She wasn’t entirely sure why she had come down to her cousin’s laboratory but she quite enjoyed it. There was something soothing about the disorder. Thomas had accompanied her, now sitting next to Chistopher, anxiously watching the controlled fire.  

“Christopher!” She called, waiting for him to glance up from his notebook where he was furiously scribbling something down. “What would be your advice,” She started, choosing her words carefully, “to someone who needs to confess something, but isn’t sure how to go about it?” Thomas looked up as if he too was interested in the answer.

Christopher put down his pen, tilting his head. “This is about Cordelia?”

Lucie choked, nearly slipping off the counter. “Why- why would you-”

“I thought everyone knew,” He said, giving her a perplexed look.

Lucie had no response to that. She stared at the ceiling, willing her face to stop flaming. The door swung open and it took every ounce of her will to not run out of the room when she saw Cordelia and Eugenia step in.

“You’re here!” Cordelia exclaimed, smiling.

Lucie just nodded faintly, glaring at Eugenia’s knowing smile.

“We needed to get something, do you think you could help us?” Cordelia asked, looking at Christopher.

Christopher lit up, listing off ideas rapidly. Lucie smiled and crossed over to where her friends were seated, listening to him talk excitedly.

“Do you need help?” Lucie asked, once they had all reached a general consensus.

Eugenia and Thomas had to return home, worried that their parents would notice such a lengthy absence but Cordelia and Lucie opted to stay with Christopher. 

When he shook his head, Cordelia piped in “Explain it to us then? My brother talks often about criminal forensics and I would like to recognize at least some of the words he uses.”

“You wish for me to tell you about it?” He sounded surprised, causing an uncomfortable twinge in Lucie’s heart.

It was often that when Christopher talked of science or her of writing, their friends would cease to pay attention, Thomas being an exception. To have someone care about something you cared for… Lucie smiled to herself and nodded.

“We would.” 

Tagging: @adoravel-fenomeno @barbra-lightwood @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @foxglove-airmid 

#listen to your friends when they speak about their intrests challenge #@the rest of the charecters that aren't here because i make the rules here #this was orginally supposed to be five parts #we're close i promise #joshwood #thomastair #lucelia #lucie herondale #cordelia carstairs #kamala joshi #eugenia lightwood #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs

[harrietvane]

It's that time of year! Practical Magic. Thoughts? In as much unnecessary detail as you please?

OK so while it might seem now way past that time of year, I’m here to say it’s always Owens Season in my heart. A crunchy leaf autumn is obviously peak Owens, but February is no less Owens-y. You just have to believe.

Anyway. Thoughts. Here goes: Good things about the 1998 delicious cinematic masterpiece directed by actor, Carrie Fisher BFF, and director Griffin Dunne (fun fact: he’s also Joan Didion’s nephew! The more you know.) In no particular order:

What’s a job? Seriously, does anyone do ANY work around here? Neither of the aunts do more than can be charged from the occasional desperate lovesick townie, but like how often is that? Sally has the amazingly bare-minimum aesthetic job of hanging out in her wonderfully chic store and labelling things, from time to time. That is not a retail job I’VE ever had, and I’ve had a lot. Gillian? Hell no, it’s pool parties an undefined nomadic photoshoot life for Gilly.  Husband Number One Michael pushes some crates of produce around? Sometimes? Just to be clear I LOVE THAT THIS MOVIE DOES NOT CARE ABOUT REAL-WORLD EMPLOYMENT BC THAT IS BORING. As far as it cares, you can hang out and live the witch aesthetic all day every day, braiding your hair and drying herbs, and that’s just how it is on this witch of an earth, and I WOULD ACTUALLY LOVE THAT YES THANKS. Idk, it’s an odd reaction, but just watching it gives me this ‘imagine if living was actually like this??’ vibe, quite separate from the narrative. It’s like one of those obnoxious ‘hands around tea cups/chunky sweaters’ aesthetic blogs, but like as though that was an ACTUALLY FUNCTIONAL LIFE FOR AN ENTIRE 2 HOUR MOVIE. It’s extremely soothing and consistent in this regards, re: world building. Why not be someone with no reliable income who makes your own hand-pressed envelopes, go nuts. Love it.

It’s a romcom about women and love, but manages NOT to be about a specifically young single woman finding a specific singular love (ie the standard romcom narrative). Like, it still is a romcom in both genre and tone a lot of the time, but it’s about love, meaning: romantic love maybe actually coming around twice (or more), about love being between sisters, between mothers and daughters, between a community of women, with all the challenges and pains and joys of that. I mean Sally is arguably the protagonist, and she does find romantic love, but the climax of the narrative is not about her finding/saving that, it’s about her and Gillian, and it’s treated as the main relationship of the film. The big ‘oh no’ moment and the big ‘oh yes’ victory moment is all about the love between Sally and Gillian, and it’s given the same weight as a romcom would give the run to the airport moment. I mean Aidan Quinn is great but he’s quite literally an afterthought, plot beat wise.

Speaking of subverting tropes: it’s the husband who gets fridged to further a woman’s narrative. Chistopher Nolan wakes somewhere in fright. Feels good. Feel organic

Anyway THAT GRIMOIRE. Prop designs OF THE GODS. IT’S PERFECT. IT FOLDS OUT. IT HAS BOTANICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. IT’S HAND-WRITTEN. IT CAN MAKE LOVE SPELLS, OR ZOMBIES, WHATEVER YOU NEED.

and connected to that, THE HOUSE. Many many people have an obsession over the house. The kitchen, specifically. The still room (drying room/pantry). The greenhouse. The staircase. The parlour. This amazing house that does not exist because they shot it on federal lands where the filming permission stated all structures where to be temporary and removed at end of filming! It didn’t even have foundations - it was a dollshouse of a structure sitting flat on top of the earth, and it vanished in a puff of movie magic. Actually sort of perfect.

Soooooo a words on the aunts, and the curse: word of god has now clarified that Franny and Jet are sisters, so they’re actually Sally and Gilly of the previous generation, but tbh just going on the movie i feel that you can feel free to read them as Married Witches™ where Jet is the Owens and Fran is her non-Owens wife. Jet snaps ‘what about my poor Ethan’ in reference to her own tragic Cursed Dude Event, but it could be assumed by the viewer that after Ethan shuffled off this mortal, that she met Frances The Lesbian Witch and they got married. I mean if you wanted to infer that, i don’t think the movie contradicts it? If Sally and Gilly’s flashback mum was a ginger, and jet is the brunette sister, then Franny would be an in-law? Anyway, their life is amazing, which ever way you read it. But reading them as married does bring up an interesting what-if: is the curse specific to men? I’m gonna say yes. Maria was specifically abandoned by a man, and i think wording is important in both legal documents and binding curses, which are, after all, related.

speaking of the curse, I find it so tragic and interesting and PAINFUL that Maria’s curse was prompted by her grief and anger at her lover abandoning her, but she didn’t actually curse HIM. Whoever he was he probably lived out his puritan days or whatever. Her curse was directed INWARD: she caused pain to herself and her family. It’s not the townsfolk men who are cursed, it’s the Owens women. That’s what we do. That’s what we’re taught to do as a response to breakups, when they hurt us, there’s not a big societal trend of men getting killed by ex-girfriends: after a breakup we react by hurting ourselves, not them. It’s the worst curse ever because you see it and you KNOW. That curse makes SENSE. and it’s HORRIBLE.

anyway in lighter news don’t you love the Owens Aesthetically Consistent Hair Colour Siblings? They could easily have made the 2 actresses consistently styled, but hey let’s make it fun. Flashback mum, Sally and Gilly, and Kylie and Antonia - One very ginger, one very brunette: it’s so pointless, so unexplained, and therefore amazing. The less explanation the better tbh. I love it.

Did you know Jimmy isn’t even rocking that Dracula Cowboy vibe in the novel? He’s just some american dude. But I guess they cast Goran Visnjic and were like ‘…….but he’s hot being Very Extremely Croatian, so Jimmy is Croatian now’. Excellent call.

all the small magics? Not like big, hand-wavy, nose-twitchy gesture magic, but just like Sally’s tea always stirring itself, and the aunts making toast appear to support an excuse. Sally and Michael’s matchmaking spell not being explained, or being given sparkly effects, it’s just [aunts tense about the time], [bells ring], Stockard Channing gives and incredibly fake ‘…..where are you going dear?’, and you KNOW there’s magic afoot. And of course, Phone. Tree. Day. Slow clap. I love the INFERENCE rather than the overt demonstration of the small magics.

So the cut a potentially endless post short, I will always be emotional about the the comparison between the woman in the first act who comes to the house to the aunts snapping out ‘why the hell else would i come here??’ like just disgusted at even being there, being compared with the image of Margo Martindale and the other townswomen all in the Owens house at the end (especially the woman who didn’t have a broom so she brought a mini-vaccum!) and how they don’t really understand the Owens but they came just because Sally told them she was afraid, and asked for help for a woman in danger.

Lastly, the soundtrack is PERFECT. Stevie goddamn Nicks. Amazing.

#practical magic #theheliumtaxi #(delayed response but do forgive me) #long post

[fiona-fififi]

Just over here thinking about:

He takes Christopher there all the time. Got the place memorized.

And

Oh, 'cause, uh, 'cause you don't? Come on, I know you watch them with Christopher.

And the way these are such lovely little moments that imply intimacy born of familiarity.

They're not secrets. Not things either of them are trying to hide, really. But they're things you don't learn unless you know someone. Unless you spend time in their space and exist in a different bubble from most others in their life.

And we know this is true because these statements, the way they happen, in the spaces they do, imply that these are things that Buck and Eddie know. They're not secrets, but the rest of the team is not privy to this knowledge until Buck or Eddie chooses to share for the other.

This knowledge they have of these lovely little things that feel small and inconsequential—and maybe they are, really, but they're also the things that build them; that get to the heart of who they are—unveils so much about just how entwined they are in one another's lives because they're things that only someone who truly knows another with that unique intimacy that comes with existing in their space would know.

And the fact that this knowlege is only shared by Buck and Eddie while the rest of the team—the rest of the family they chose—is in the dark..

Well. That says a lot about the family they built.

#especially when chistopher is at the heart of it both times #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 spoilers #911 5x02 #911 5x09 #buckley diaz family #random buddie thoughts #i'm just having a lot of feelings over this tonight