#˗ˏˋ leopold fowler ⟶ ❛ philomena carmichael ❜

[guiltswept]

FOR:   leo again i'm sorry i took so long i owe u two </3 ( @eclvpses ). DETAILS:   phantom manor, makeshift coat room.

within an hour of being inside the rave; philly has knocked over twelve people with the mass of their skirt; all heavy beading and tulle and love and labor - but too much of it, perhaps. it's a beautiful thing, the dress; composed of hours of her and marjorie bumping heads for hours on end as they repurposed her old wedding dress. there'd never be a daughter to wear it; but philly's enough; as family as she could be. a beautiful, meaningful thing; and terribly heavy.

"leo, could you hold my sleeves?" they're firmly above ground, now, in a part of the manor that's been turned into a coat room of sorts - discarded costume pieces all around them. it's eerily quiet despite the rave ongoing below them. under ordinary circumstances, philly would discard of her costume where they stood down below; but there's sentiment with the dress. with the sleeves discarded into leo's hands; philly works on detaching her skirt from the corset. "i met a very peculiar man downstairs, with the head of a donkey and twice as many legs as he should have." whether it's a costume, or how they perceive the person - is left unknown. they shimmy out of the skirt, revealing equally bejeweled shorts and a pair of hoof - shaped shoes that she'd stolen early into the night for their own. "he's offered to part with his tranquilizers if i bring back a pair of bug antennas, glass slippers, and a red cloak - we should start searching. i'm much more agile and capable, now."

[guiltswept]

FOR:   leo ( @eclvpses ). DETAILS:   two weeks ago, possibly more. early morning, fowler residence.

there's many truths to philomena; that they dislike returning to a town more than twice, with so many still left to explore. that they're notoriously unaffectionate, hard to read - that there's very few for whom they care for outside of selfish needs. it's also true that philly would always come back to blue harbor, and only blue harbor, just for leo. even if several states away, even if technically out on bail for a trial that'll never happen as long as they never catch them. if it ever came to the worst; philly would climb out of her grave just to meet leo at his own.

luckily; there's no graves to climb, only a trellis leading to leo's bedroom window - always left unlocked, like he's always waiting for them. always waiting. there's a rare guilt that philly carries; if only they weren't away for so long this time. they miss marjorie, and steve - but mostly marjorie, and her baking; and her mind, a new anxiety that briefly skims the surface of their emotions. philly's emotions were the strongest around the fowlers; and even then - skipping rocks against a still surface. it's only leo that causes ripples before plunging into their heart's depths.

philly kneels besides leo's bed; to any other, it might've been alarming - but there's a history between them. many entered windows, just as many exits. their gaze traces his features; each freckle, the curve of cheek - beloved fucked up septum. they reach into their backpack, loosely slung against their shoulder, and pull out a megaphone.

"LEOPOLD FOWLER, I'M VERY CONCERNED FOR YOUR LACK OF ROBBERY PREVENTION. DID YOU KNOW TWO PERCENT OF ROBBERIES HAPPEN VIA THE SECOND FLOOR?"