#charles at st. hilarion's

[gameo-archive]

"Hi George & Jayden! Two questions: first, can you talk a bit about what you think Charles and Edwin's respective day-to-day lives looked like? I (Veronica) have always wanted to know more about Charles' friends & school life. (Was he popular? Did he live on campus? How much do the boys know about each others' lives before death?) Second, Nika wants to know if there were any past disastrous/fiasco cases like the puppy debacle or chewing gum debacle. If so, what happened in those cases? Thank you so much for doing this, we both love and appreciate everything you've given our fandom and feel lucky to have you as our Charles & Edwin! <3"

I got my cameo with the amazing @alltimefail 💖 who I am forever grateful for.

George and Jayden talk about some of the boys' incidents before the famous chewing gum and puppy incidents and talk about what Charles was like when he was at St. Hilarion.

I am forever grateful for the opportunity to get this cameo and will never shut up about the fact that George and Jayden know our twitter. We are too popular sjsjjsjs

And I have to admit my favorite part of the cameo is when George tries to pronounce my user name and Jayden laughs. I love these guys so much. Thank you V @alltimefail for making dreams come true aaawww 💖

[carebeardean]

Charles after he made Edwin laugh the first time would’ve been soooo insufferable. because just getting a snort or a little grin out of him has Charles kicking his feet giggling. & so the first time he makes Edwin Really Actually lose it? It’s So Over. cause when edwin makes this inelegant, snorting sound that’s so unlike his serious face, that has Edwin clapping a hand over his mouth, mortified. you can practically hear the looney tunes birds and hearts chirping around Charles head. he’s gonna do whatever he can to hear that sound again. watch out, Edwin Payne!

[livinginadumpster]

WAIT YALL I JUST REALIZED SOMETHING

in hell there's an upside-down exit sign over the exit to the doll house. exit signs didn't exist when Edwin was alive so he would likely have assumed this sign was unique to hell.

then imagine his absolute terror when he saw an exit sign for the first time after he escaped.

[zinnie-zoloft]

Supposedly the reason they changed Charles’s baseball bat into a cricket bat is because cricket is incredibly popular in India, but I also think it makes way more sense as something they’d be doing at a British boarding school

Baseball isn’t really popular in the uk, the closest thing we have a rounders which is considered a little kids game, but cricket is one of those sports that posh people are into along with stuff like fencing and croquet

[heyyallitssatan]

Edwin and Charles died seventy years apart

That’s not as long as it really seems

What if the year of Edwins death there was a freshman at the school, assume he’s fourteen

Now he heard about the tragic boy who went missing, who’s body was never found, who they marked a grave for a long with all the other missing boys that year

He heard about it, but honestly it didn’t have anything to do with him, and it wasn’t his business, it was a tragic affair, but not one he had much personal stake in at all

Now, seventy years later, and that little freshman boy is a teacher back at that same school, a very old teacher, 85 this spring, and he doesn’t much concern himself with the coming and goings of the students unless they’re on his roster

Well there’s one boy on that roll sheet name Charles Rowland, not a very bright kid, but a decent students who almost always turned his work in and besides hanging out with some rather hooligan like little assholes he and getting into a bit of trouble with them he was a pretty average student

Honestly, he was rather forgettable and unremarkable

So unremarkable in fact that it took a few days for the old teacher to notice he hadn’t been in class, and even then it was only because he was logging attendance and noticed a growing number of x’s next to his name

So he asked after him, only in passing, asked those boys Charles hung out with that the teacher didn’t much care for, and they looked at each other like they had something to hide before insisting a little forcefully that they didn’t know anything about that sir

It was then he asked administration if they knew anything about it

They didn’t, but swore they’d find out

They found out almost a full week later

It wasn’t until he sat at his desk well after he should’ve went home that night, staring at the attendance sheet that he remembered another boy, seventy years prior, that had gone missing much the same

Really it wasn’t the same at all, but to that old teacher it may as well have been, two sixteen year old boys, went missing then pronounced dead on school grounds

Two boys on the cusp of freedom, who never got to feel it

The old teacher turned his resignation in that year, he told his partner, the kind he couldn’t talk about outside of smoky bars and gentleman’s clubs, that it only felt right

He’d always wonder, who made him any different from those two boys, why did he live and they didn’t, was it all fate, or just shit bad luck

He wondered if he’d ever know the answer

[shaylogic]

Some fanfic brainstorming ideas:

they all go to London in season 2 and Jenny sets herself up anew. the squad visits her

Crystal: uh... Jenny where'd you get that bird?

Jenny: weird right? This crow followed me all the way from the States. I tried to swat it out over and over but it started bringing me little trinkets and staying away from the shop area so it's not a health hazard. I think I'm domesticating it. Crows fit my style, I guess, so I let it stay

Like, what if Monty can't find the ghost detective agency and is trying to contact Edwin through Jenny? She's oblivious, and it's awkward for everyone else

One of the agencies first new cases is trying to help Monty become a human again without Esther

He tries to communicate with chalk on a board in the meat shop at first but is tapping without success (would Edwin know morse code? Monty probably wouldn't) and having trouble writing/drawing

Crystal: oh let me just do it *uses her psychic powers*

And who knows what she'd see in Monty's bird brain? Comedic generic bird imagery? Would she hear his sweet twink voice?

Would there be freaky Sandman comic crossover images of Dream and Charles' dream of the bird bone snow? (if you know you know)

That could lead nicely into them returning to St. Hilarion's (there's no chance in hell they're not doing that part in season 2)

[gundamthey17]

Day 5 of Payneland Promptfest 2024

I am in fact still working on the Payneland Promptfest 2024 prompts..... maybe I'll finish by December of 2025

Day 5: Snuggling (alive!au)

(the ao3 link has more info about the backstory for this au if anyone's curious. it's not super necessary for this fic, but i spent an inordinate amount of time on it because i am incapable of writing a story without context)

Summary: The Dead Boy Detectives (who are actually very much alive, thank you) find that the heat has broken in their flat-slash-office. 

xxx

23 December 1990

“Charles, do stop kicking the radiator.”

"You tried your way. Now it's my turn, innit."

Edwin, who was seated at the desk and holding the phone to his ear, sighed. "If tools were ineffective, I highly doubt blunt force will do the trick."

"Won't know until we try, will we?"

Edwin rolled his eyes as Charles continued kicking.

"What did maintenance say?" he asked between kicks.

"I am still on hold."

"Bloody brills."

Edwin pinched the bridge of his nose, a sure sign of a budding headache. Charles knew he ought to stop kicking the radiator, but he needed to vent his frustration somehow.

"You are not going to accomplish anything beyond potentially hurting yourself or breaking it further. If you would just be - yes, hello." Edwin motioned for Charles to be quiet. He covered one ear as he spoke into the phone. "Yes, that is correct. No, we still have power, just no heat... I beg your pardon?"

Charles looked up at the change in Edwin's tone. 'What?' he mouthed, but Edwin shook his head and continued speaking.

"But we have no heat! It is snowing, for heaven's sake! Is there no way you can - but I - very well. We will see you then." Edwin hung up the receiver with more force than was strictly necessary.

"What did they say?"

"As it is currently after business hours, and the start of a holiday, they cannot send anyone out to fix the heat until Wednesday."

"What? Can't you try the emergency maintenance number?"

"That was the emergency number. Apparently, lack of heat in December does not constitute an emergency," Edwin said, his voice dripping with contempt.

"What a load of bollocks!" Charles looked around their flat-slash-office. He shivered. "They seriously expect us to spend three days like this?"

"Evidently so."

"Bollocks," Charles said again.

Half an hour later, Edwin was still sitting at the desk. He had put on his coat, but otherwise seemed to be steadfastly ignoring the rapidly falling temperature inside the office.

Charles, wearing two jumpers and his jacket, had other ideas. He was in the process of raiding the bedroom and the closet for every single blanket they owned, and tossing them into a growing pile on the small couch. Even the tiny, crocheted throw blanket got added to the pile. (They had received it as partial payment for a case. It was canary-yellow and supposedly enchanted to always smell good without ever needing to be washed. It was too small to really make a difference, but Charles had already committed to finding every blanket, so onto the pile it went.) He muttered a steady stream of curses under his breath as he worked. When he had gathered every last blanket, and the couch itself was hardly visible anymore, he climbed into the middle of the pile and nestled himself in. Even after all of that, Charles was still shivering.

He also hadn’t grabbed anything to entertain himself with, or turned on the telly, before settling into his blanket nest. And once he was inside, he was loath to come out again. Surely, at some point, physics would take over and the blankets would have to start doing their job. Surely Edwin would finish whatever he was working on and – and what? Talk to him? Anything to occupy his mind and distract him from both the boredom and the bloody freezing office. He tried to wait it out, to be quiet and patient and let Edwin work.

He did not last long.

“Edwin,” Charles whined.

Edwin hummed but did not look up from his writing.

“I’m still cold.”

“And what exactly would you like me to do about that?”

It was a good question, that. Charles hadn’t actually thought about it. But the answer became immediately obvious. “Come sit with me.”

Edwin’s pen stopped. He glanced up at Charles. “What?” he asked, and there was a slight edge to his voice that Charles didn’t know how to interpret.

“Please? It’ll be warmer with both of us.”

"I find it improbable that you can still be cold under all those blankets."

"I've got bad circulation. Look!" Charles held out his hand. True to his word, his fingertips were pale and bloodless.

Edwin frowned at that, but he shook his head. “I am busy. We have a case, if you recall.”

“So? It’s a holiday, and clearly no one else is working. If emergency maintenance can take a holiday, we ought to be able to.”

“I am sorry, Charles. There is simply too much to do.” Edwin started writing again.

"Edwin! If you don't come over here, I'm gonna freeze to death."

"Charles," Edwin said in a scolding tone. "Given your history, you should not joke about such things."

"Given my history, I'm allowed to joke about such things," Charles retorted. "Come on, I know you’re cold too. I can see you shivering."

Edwin sat up straighter and pulled at the collar of his cardigan. “I am perfectly fine.”

Charles sighed. He suspected now that he knew the true cause of Edwin’s reluctance, but he was unsure if he ought to press the issue. The wind picked up, rattling the window, and Charles shuddered reflexively. Abandoning caution, he said, "Look, mate, I know you don't like touching, but if there was ever a time -"

"I never said I don't like touching," Edwin said quickly.

Charles looked at him curiously. "Didn't have to say it, did you. You go stiff every time I so much as pat your shoulder."

Edwin set down his pen and pressed his fingertips together. "I... am not used to it," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "But that doesn't mean I do not like it."

“Would you be willing to give it a shot? Please?” Charles hated the note of desperation that had crept into his voice. “I’m really bloody cold, mate.”

Edwin sighed and stood up. "Let me put the kettle on, and then I'll join you."

"Aces!" Charles couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

—--

Charles made an opening in his mountain of blankets so that Edwin would be able to sit next to him on the couch. Edwin handed him a steaming mug of tea and took his seat. They wrapped the blankets around themselves, their shoulders just barely brushing together.

Charles stared pensively out the office window at the falling snow. "Do you ever think about what would happen if we got caught? Do they arrest people for truancy? Or would they just split us up and force us to go back to our parents?"

"I think the latter is the most likely, though I shudder to think of the consequences. My father would have me institutionalized."

"For reals?" Charles turned to look at Edwin, but Edwin's eyes remained focused on the opposite wall.

He nodded. "He said as much before sending me to the school." They never mentioned St. Hilarion's by name if they could help it. "Said it was my last chance to prove that I could be... normal."

Charles snorted derisively. Then, feeling like that wasn't enough to fully communicate his disgust, he added, "That's bollocks."

"That is all assuming, of course, that the demon does not find me first." They never used Sa'al's name either. Edwin was unsure whether it could hear its name being spoken, and neither of them were keen to find out.

"That thing is not gonna take you away from me. Not a chance in – well, you-know-where." He gave a crooked grin.

The ghost of a smile flitted across Edwin's face. He took a cautious sip of his tea before asking, "And what about your parents?"

With a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, Charles said, "My dad would probably just beat me senseless. He’s done it for lesser offenses." He shrugged, feigning nonchalance, and let out a single, humorless chuckle. 

Edwin finally looked at him. "I will make sure that never happens again," he said fiercely.

Not quite knowing what to say, Charles nodded. "Cheers to that," he muttered, lifting his mug.

"It is irrelevant anyway. We are not going to be caught. We are presumed dead; no one is looking for us. We just have to make it for another year, and then we will be of age and we won't have to worry about the police or our parents."

"And we're gonna figure out how to undo a demon sacrifice, so we won't have to worry about that bastard anymore either."

Edwin's brow knitted. "I do not know if the ritual can be nullified without the caster. Since Simon and the others are all dead, it may not be possible."

"We will figure out a way. I promise."

Edwin suddenly pushed the blankets off and stood up. Charles’ face crumpled as he feared he’d gone too far. Edwin noticed and smiled placatingly. "It is all right. I'm just getting a book."

Charles sighed, relieved. He smiled too, a genuine one this time. "Brills! How about another one of those Poirot stories? I like him. He's a fun chap."

"He is a fun chap," Edwin agreed. He grabbed a large hardcover book from the bookshelf nearest to the desk, and returned to the couch.

Charles shifted under the mound of blankets so that he could put his arm around Edwin's shoulders. "This okay?" he asked quietly.

Edwin nodded. He cautiously leaned back against Charles' arm before opening the book. "What about The Adventure of the Clapham Cook? I do not believe we have read that one yet."

"Don't think so. Let's hear it."

Edwin cleared his throat. "At the time that I was sharing rooms with my friend Hercule Poirot, it was my custom to read aloud to him the headlines in the morning newspaper, the Daily Blare.”

—

Several short stories later, Charles had fallen asleep. His head lolled against Edwin's shoulder. Edwin was surprised to find himself feeling quite comfortable. Between the blankets and their combined body heat, he hardly noticed the frigid temperature of the room. He gently set the book aside. Then, hesitantly, he rested his head against Charles'. Charles did not stir. With Charles' comforting warmth next to him, and his soft curls under Edwin's cheek, Edwin closed his eyes. Soon, he too fell asleep.

[lumi-of-the-universe]

Keep seeing people call St Hilarion’s a Catholic school or Charles and Edwin Catholics, and guys, they’re Anglican.

There is no way a British school founded in 1802 for the education of officers’ sons is Catholic. This is over two decade before the Roman Catholic Relief act of 1829 that let Catholics serve in parliament or higher officers. Hell, it’s nine years before England officially outlawed officers forcing Catholic soldiers to attend Protestant divine service.

Yes the Anglican Church does have saints, though yes it’s different from Catholic saints. St Hilarion was canonized pre Reformation which seems to make him also an Anglican saint.

[edwinisms]

yknow we mention edwin’s inevitable catholic guilt a decent amount but i feel like it’s worth considering the fact that charles must have at least SOME amount of it himself considering they’re both catholic school boys. obviously edwin’s gonna be more impacted because of the time period, his much more overt Not Straightness, and how much harsher the school likely was back then, but being a boy like charles who’s home life was. well you know. and then constantly told that your suffering is for some sort of greater good, that you’re being tested, and perhaps you even deserve it? yeah that must not do a boy like him any favors

[terresdebrume]

"You can put your things here if you want."

Niko, who was trying and failing to find a free spot on the bench that lines up the dance studio, turns to the newcomer with a grateful sigh.

"Thank you," she says, "I didn't want to put my things on a stranger's bag and make them think I'm rude."

The man who approached her smiles. He has nice, dark eyes and dark skin, a long curved nose, and the sort of smile that never fails to put Niko at ease. She doesn't how to ask what his name is, so she sets her eyes on the golden hoop dangling from his left ear and waits. It only takes him a beat to say:

"Oh, I'm Charles, by the way."

"I'm Niko. And now we're no longer strangers."

She turns and puts her bright blue bag over Charles' well worn black one, then turns back around and makes her way to where the rest of the participants have already gathered in a circle. At first, Niko can't see Ashley, but it's only takes a few seconds to find her on the opposite side of the room, happily chatting with one of the older men.

Niko hesitates. Ashley is the only reason she's even here: there are too many people here for her to ever spontaneously join, and she knows nothing about dancing. Even when she listens to her favorite music at home and there's no one to see her dance, she rarely dares to do more than shake her hands a little. She looks around, discomfited, as the teacher asks everyone to form a circle around the studio and Ashley stays next to the older man, but before she has the time to worry about being on her own, Charles appears by her side with a smile.

"Hi again," he says, and Niko doesn't know him, but right now his face is the most familiar after Ashley's, and she is grateful for her presence. She nods at him, although she can't make herself smile, and he asks: "Is this your first time?"

"Yes," Niko says. Then, the words tumbling out of her: "I'm nervous because I followed my friend here but now she's making new friends and I have no idea what to do."

"Oh, I think we'll start with Road Map," Charles says with a nod towards the painter's tape on the floor that divides the studio into quarters. "The Boss will ask us a question, then assign an answer to each section, and you'll move to the one that applies to you."

Niko nods. This is a simple game, with simple rules, and no one is asking her to dance yet, which is just ast well. She can handle this first activity without too much trouble, she's sure. That is: she's sure of it, until something occurs to her.

"What happens if none of the answers fit you?" She asks, trying to keep her voice low as the teacher explains the rules of the game to the rest of the group.

"Then you either pick the closest answer or you stay in the middle," Charles says.

Niko nods again. Charles is wearing dance sneakers, she notices then. Someone drew tiny ghosts and skulls in white lines on the black fabric, and Niko almost smiles. Somehow, the sight of those quirky little faces makes her feel a little less like the odd one out with her sparkly blue shoes. She keeps looking at Charles' shoes while the teacher asks people to pick between ice cream flavors. Niko moves into the vanilla square with one of the three elderly women, a boy who can't be older than seventeen, and a person who went out of her way to look neither male nor female. When Niko looks up to confirm Ashley joined the strawberry square, she finds Charles standing in the middle of the studio on his own.

"Mr. Rowland," the teacher says with the tone of someone rolling their eyes a little bit, "may I ask why you didn't join the caramel and butter square?"

"You didn't say if it was salted or not," Charles says with a shrug and a grin that makes Niko chuckle. "That's an important point to specify, Boss."

A few people smile or even laugh at Charles' answer, and Niko thinks the room feels a little less tense after that. The next questions are about favorite animals (Niko goes to the 'cats' square, opposite Charles' 'dogs'), favorite color (Niko's is pink, Charles stays in the middle again for turquoise) and how spicy people like their food (Niko goes to the 'mildly' suare, and Charles goes to the 'very spicy' square with three other people). Then the teacher asks how many country everyone lived in, and Niko is alone in the 'three' square, with Charles next to her in the 'two' square.

"Can I asked where you lived?" Charles asks when they go back to the outskirts of the dancefloor to wait for the next activity.

"Japan, the US, and here," Niko says.

Charles looks like he's going to say something but then the teacher, a red-haired woman with a strong scottish accent and impeccable posture, announces the next activity. This time, they are supposed to find as many movements to do as there are syllables in their full names. Niko is grateful that she has no middle name and terrified by the exercise all at once. Well, there are other steps in the middle, but once they've gone through A-nu-mi-ta Mar-lowe, A-shley Wil-son and Charles Row-land, it's Niko's turn. She feels like she might explode every time she claps her hands as she introduces herself as Ni-ko Sa-sa-ki, and then there are only two other people after her before they are all instructed to turn away from the circle and start practicing their moves.

Niko's name is five syllables, and she has no idea how she's going to come up with five whole moves! A glance to her left shows E-ri-ca Ngo-si has a similar issue, which is a little reassuring. To the right, however, Charles is stretching his arms over his head, seemingly unconcerned. Niko can't help staring.

"Are you not going to do the exercise?"

"I already did," Charles says with a wink. "It's my third session here, and we always do that game. I've got it down pat by now."

"Oh, you're lucky," Niko says with a sigh. "I have no idea what to do. I don't know how to dance yet!"

"It's okay," Charles tells her with another one of his smiles. "We're going to play the game again, you know. If you don't like your movements very much, you can always change them."

"I really don't want to get it wrong," Niko says, frowning.

"I promise you can't. There's no wrong answer there."

Niko nods, because she understands that. The issue is that if there is no wrong answer, then there is also no correct answer, which is more stressful to deal with. Still, she wants to follow the instructions correctly, and that means coming up with something. It takes her a few minutes of thinking to figure out the impression she wants to give, but in the end she decides to start by fingerspelling Niko with a small bounce, then three sparkle hands for the syllables of 'Sasaki'. It's a good thing she's doing this exercise in England, she thinks. In Japan, she would have had to start with the sparkle hands and end with the more muted gestures, as if she started out bubbly and calmed down over time, which is the oposite of truth.

Eventually, they go around the circle. Ashley does the robot for her gestures, and everyone learns her movement and her name in no time. When Charles' turn comes, with his bold Indian dance moves, it takes Niko a couple of tries to get it right, but she doesn't give up, and in the end she is the one who replicates his gestures the best. Then she shares her name and her dance movement, expecting her turn to go like everyone else's. Instead, before anyone can repeat her name, Charles asks:

"Was that fingerspelling?"

"Yes," Niko says, wondering if she's meant to apologize for not picking an actual dance move, but before she can do that, Charles exclaims:

"Aces! Show me again?"

Niko does, a smile overtaking her face beyond her control. She likes Charles, she decides. Likes that he went out of his way to help her, likes the easy way with which he accepted her questions, likes his enthusiasm in the face of something that doesn't technicaly quite fit the assignment they were given. She likes him even more during the next activity, when they have to consider a whole list of things about dancing and he explains a bunch of them to Niko, with demonstrations when needed. And by the time the teacher shows them their first, very simple dance step and Charles makes silly faces to make her laugh, Niko is decided to attend the next class, whether Ashley enjoyed herself or not.

This snippet takes place in the I'm down on my knees universe and will eventually be cleaned up and posted on AO3 x)

[arrow-jsy]

Please send me St. Hilarion headcanons

Im definitely not going to start working on a ghost hunting fic set in the now abandoned and haunted boarding school

[gameo-archive]

"It was such a blast to see the cameos tonight and well, I was fortunate enough to have @etheriiart request one for me (mainly for my far away birthday).

I have decided to at least share this moment with the #SaveDeadBoyDetectives family. I love you all so much, take care.💛"

[shaylogic]

It was badass

I need people who haven’t read the comics to know that Crystal burned St Hilarions to the ground with Molotov cocktails

[asidian]

A little heartbroken by the news, not going to lie.

But I'm going to keep creating for this fandom, because the characters have made a place in my heart, and I suspect they'll stay there for a good long while. This show and the fandom have been such a joy to partake in during a really rough time in my life, and I appreciate that more than I can say. I appreciate all of you who make the fandom what it is, too.

I guess in the end, Season 2 gets to be whatever we make it. So you know what? Let's all share our Season 2s. Nobody's going to stop us or tell us we're wrong.

So here we go. The Season 2 in my heart, in no particular order:

Desire shows up and puts Charles Rowland through the absolute wringer. He is losing his entire mind, he wants Edwin so bad. This boy has 17 different crises and finally a realization that he has been head over heels for some decades and he is just an idiot, actually

Payneland confession and a first kiss

They get Niko back from the Neitherlands. She's some flavor of undead, and she is having a grand old time, actually

Jenny sets up a butcher shop in London and goes on a date that doesn't try to kill her. With the Night Nurse

Crystal has a corruption arc with David buried in her soul-tree soil and at first they don't realize what's going on, but in the end the boys find a way to go into her heart-space and help her resolve the problem

The boys dance on-screen with some of those skeleton choreography dances

Mick mysteriously also has a shop in London. It straddles time-space and also realms. The characters are all ????? but no one ever figures out wtf is going on with that

Tragic Mick saves the day like a big damn hero with a bazooka like in the comics

The Cat King is around, generally being his trickster self, causing problems for funsies. He dies again and comes back as a fluffy white cat with glam white fur clothes

Charles gets kidnapped somewhere and Edwin has to go and save him. It's very dramatic and parallels S1 Ep7

Monty makes a showing in crow form. He has so many cute bird mannerisms. He gets fluffy in the London cold

The boys return to St. Hilarion's. They find their respective remains and come to terms with their deaths. They decide that, however tragic their deaths were, it led them to the only place they'd want to be: together

Crystal and Niko lay the boys to rest side by side, under the same headstone

[shaylogic]

Crystal inadvertently destroyed Edwin's skeleton btw

[cuneiformkey]

I love that the Ghost with the Gas Mask is what Edwin’s future could have looked like if he survived St Hilarion’s (dying in WWI) and the Devlin house is what Charles’s future could have looked like (abusive dad snapping).