#oh the things that I would do for phileas

[david-tennant-in-chairs]

Phileas Fogg, you accidental temptress

[the-insouciant-scientist]

5 for everyone??

5. How did you choose their name and why? Was it simply based on vibes or is there any specific meaning behind the name? Are the reasons behind their name different in- and out of universe?

Oh wow, hope you're ready for a very long explanation because I have a Lot to say about this and a lot of characters dhfgdjafdgj. Including some ~secret never before seen middle name lore~ just for fun! Under a cut because this got very, very long.

(Most of these were chosen by scouring lists of Victorian era names, so I probably don't have to mention that every time. Just take it as a given!)

Harper (Middlename/Theory/Marten/Russula/Twillbert/etc.) Faraday

Since Harper was made as a slightly different character before getting Flondon'd, I don't actually remember the details of their first name specifically! I think I was just angling for something reasonably gender neutral and around the right era, and Harper just stuck. Faraday came when I realized I needed a last name for them and just panic googled Victorian-or-earlier-era scientists and realized that Harper Faraday sounds absolutely delightful to the ear. So, named after Michael Faraday! Which is, ironically enough, about what happened in character too. They do not have a defined middle name because they (and I) forgot they needed one for way too long, so now if asked they usually just say the first thing that comes to mind, which is not usually a name that normal humans have. They will never live "Twillbert" down for the rest of their days.

Phileas Emrys Clarke

Phileas was a combination of Jules Verne reference, it being slightly reminiscent of a recurring family name, and just being objectively fun to me. Clarke fit the vibes more than anything else, plus I liked the idea of it being a name picked up from his time working in Irving's shop! It was initially a job related surname, after all. Emrys came way later and definitely reads to me as one he would have chosen himself (as opposed to his first name, picked up as an urchin, and his surname, received as an older teen), and means immortal, which really loops into his whole "I will never die there's too much cool stuff to do and trouble to get into while I'm alive" very nicely.

Irving Basil Merritt

Hers was extremely vibes based/just names that sounded nice with each other I'll admit! I was going for the sense of like, this is the name of a very stereotypically proper Victorian Englishman, except no this is a very gender-nonconforming tailor/dressmaker who is so very gentle and friendly to literally anyone who comes into her shop and not that at all. Basil, however, is a loose reference to the character of the same name in The Picture of Dorian Gray. Not in a way that means you should be concerned for her own safety! Just. That artistic touch and devotion and queerness really resonates I think.

Caoimhe Ann Coledoc

I knew from the get-go that I wanted her to have a Very Irish Name, and I wanted something that could sound nice alongside her twin (who also needed a Very Irish Name), and who I was naming at the same time. Caoimhe was the one that caught my eye the most, and I especially liked the softer sound of it compared to the rough and tumble butch I was sticking it on. Cian suited her brother pretty well, so together it just worked. Fun fact, Coledoc is not their real last name! It's a derivative of their mother's maiden name, Colloc, or rather the word that was derived from. It's an old Breton word that means beloved, at least according to the sources I've seen. Idk, I'm running with it. Either way, it was a bit of a secret password between the twins, so when Caoimhe descended to the Neath alone and needed a new surname, she kept that close as a reminder of why she had gone. Ann was honestly a bit of an afterthought, just needed a one-syllable name to bridge the gap and it was relatively popular in her region of Ireland around when she was born, so!

Agnes Maria Day

Her entire name has so many layers to it. Baseline it's a play off "Agnus Dei", but it's also a reference to St. Agnes of Rome, who has a very sad story even by saints' standards. Maria is technically her confirmation name, not a middle name, the Italian version of Mary. So her entire name is uhhh extremely Catholic, which makes sense based on how she was raised on the surface! But really that pun kinda took on a life of its own.

Geneviève Blackwell

Another vibes-based name! I knew I wanted something incredibly dramatic sounding, and just kind of picked though name lists until I found some that fit! Still haven't decided on a middle name for her yet, hard to get something to fit alongside the others sdlkghfgklhd.

Hyakinthos Athanasiou

I put waaaaay too much effort into this guy's name I'll be honest. Hyakinthos (also known as Hyacinthus) was the name of a Spartan prince, beloved by both Apollo and Zephyrus, and in some stories killed out of godly jealousy and others by accident. Turned into a hyacinth flower after that. I really loved the contrast between the softness of the floral name vs the whole "was murdered" thing, drawing a line of death through his entire character, and then additionally some victorian floriography assigns the meaning of "sincere care" to hyacinths, which! Yeah!! And then Athanasiou is a really fun one, because given the time period he's from it literally means "son of Athanasios" rather than being like. A family name? But the kicker is that Athanasios means immortal. He's the son of immortal and he can't die. Running around in circles and kicking my feet up about this guy I had a Blast figuring out a name for him that was both thematic and actually historically accurate! This literally could have been a name back then!! Sorry I'm just so excited about that.

[bedofthistles]

So Long, London - Moonacre Week 2024 (Taylor's Version)

“Great job, Maria, that’s a wrap.” Benjamin held down the mic until he had finished speaking, his mouth pressed into a firm, almost smile as Maria took off the headphones. 

The world was different inside of the box. People talked about fish bowls, paparazzi, interviews, concerts, but they never mentioned this part. Where you sat in a glass box and people watched as you swam around in circles, never going anywhere, repeating the same words until they meant nothing. 

Maria gave her own half smile and hooked the headphones onto the mic. She stacked the sheets of music together. She left the aquarium. 

Maria pulled on a blue peacoat as her Uncle, Producer, Temporary Roommate, and Legal Guardian met her out in the hall.

“Beautiful as always, Maria, I have to say, I much prefer this new music style you’ve curated.” He pressed the elevator button and Maria smiled, however bitterly. 

“You liked the old music better, I know it suited you more.” Maria argued, knowing for a fact that her Uncle was not overly fond of the more aggressive turn her music had taken.

“It’s much livelier than the first album.” His brows rose and fell in a secret language as the elevator dinged open. 

“I’ll see you at home.” 

Benjamin nodded, and kissed her forehead before she could disappear. As she slipped inside, he adjusted the roll of his sleeves and gave her another pressed smile. Once the doors had closed and Maria was alone, she allowed herself to lean against the elevator wall and pulled out her phone. It was already open on Instagram, something she had opened before she went into the booth, and had occupied her thoughts for the entirety of the recording session.

The Truth Revealed: Maria Merryweather not the Perfect Princess we Thought we Knew?

She hadn’t had time to read past the headline pasted over an old red carpet photo of her…

And Phileas Auster. 

An actor. A model. A rising star that was perfect, and hot, and heartbroken. 

Two months ago they had agreed to keep their break up out of the public eye, and while sightings of them had diminished, the only thing fans had were wild speculation. But Maria knew she shouldn’t have trusted him to keep his mouth shut. He would do anything to push himself up in the world. That was half the reason he had dated Maria. 

Who was, what some people might refer to as, world famous. 

Maria’s thumb hovered over the read more button just as the elevators opened, however, before she could step out, she saw them.

Not inside, of course, as it was a secure building, but through the barely tinted windows, the flashes of lights, the bodies pressed to the glass and doors, the sudden rise in volume as they realized she had walked into the shot.

“Maria!” 

Her grip tightened on her phone, their muffled shouts never reaching her, but she watched as they crowded around one another, just trying to get a good picture.

Benjamin was in front of her, blocking her with his body as he pushed her back to the stairwell, he was yelling at security to do something about the horde, and to get her a car, and make sure she got out of there safe. 

Her phone began to ring, and vibrate, and she was flooded with notifications as the hour long timer she had set Do Not Disturb on turned off. Twitter, tiktok, YouTube, texts. She was sure every person who had the privilege of having her personal phone number was trying to get a hold of her. 

“God, I’m sorry Maria, Digweed saw the story drop after you went down.” Benjamin led Maria down into the underground car garage and someone brought his car up to them. “Here, take my keys and I’ll take yours once they clear out.” 

Maria blindly searched for her keys in her pocket, the old keychain tarnished, and handed them off for her Uncle’s key fob. 

“He told,” Maria whispered.

“Are you alright to drive?”

She nodded, but she was far away. 

“Maria-” but before he could say anything else, his phone went off. “Hello? Yes she’s here- oh yes, we know. When did you find out?” Benjamin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well- no… no! We don’t have- yes, she just finished recording… but we need to- no that’s done… we could drop it early.” He gave her an odd look, and before he could say anything else, Maria spoke for him.

“The single? If it’s ready, drop it. Now for all I care.” Maria fell heavily into the car seat, her hands on the leather wheel and her foot on the gas before Benjamin could offer any kind of protest.

Maria’s phone connected to the car's Bluetooth and before she could switch her phone back to DND, she saw Cat’s name flash across the screen. 

She accepted the call with a heavy, remorseful sigh.

“Do you see what that bastard did!” Cat cursed into the phone in lieu of a greeting.

“Not yet.” Maria said, pulling out of the garage, fortunately, no one knew about the entrance and it was free of nosy reporters. “Just that he spoke when he wasn’t supposed to.” 

“Ugh! I hate him! Where are you? We’ll come to you.” 

“Don’t! You’re supposed to be practicing!”

“I don’t care about that! If I trip on stage it’ll just make for good publicity. Are you going home? We’ll meet you there.” 

Maria sighed. “Not home. If I had my way, I’d be going back to Moonacre, but we’re stuck in the city until it’s done.”

There were some rustling sounds on the other side, “Lizzie, we’re going! I thought today was the last recording day?”

“Well yes, but Uncle Benjamin is here until it’s fully produced, and you know how I like to have the final say on everything, and make sure it sounds right. We won’t go home until summer at the very least.” 

She could practically hear Cat pouting on the other side. “Well, what about a little weekend trip? Just until this blows over?” 

“Just- no, no! Cat don’t be unreasonable.” 

“Oh it’s only a short ride up to the countryside!”

“Oh please, it’s hardly short, it takes ages.” 

“And we’ll be back Sunday night. Or Monday morning. Whatever you prefer! No one will bother you up there.”

Maria bit her lip as she pulled into the flat’s parking garage. It was tempting. “Well, I’m not sure. Besides, Uncle Benjamin wouldn’t like it, and the single just dropped, or it will in a few moments.”

“Sir Ben Mix’s a Lot will want what’s best for you and that is most definitely a weekend getaway with your best friend and her sister.”

“Hey!” 

“And Jane.” Maria added, “If you want to give her a call.” 

“Of course! Lizzie’s already on it.” 

“Alright, well, I’ll see you soon.” 

“Yes! And we can listen to your new song the whole way up!”

Maria chuckled, “Oh god, not the whole way up.”

“Half way.” 

Maria parked the car and turned it off, sitting in the warmth until she had no choice but to leave.

She pulled out her phone, and read the article. 

It was just as horrible as she would have thought it would be. Every nasty word he could call her, he did. He had been in love, ready to marry her, and she had broken his heart in a cruel, vicious manner. She was a monster, callous, and evil. A villian who had played him the fool.

There was pity from the interviewer’s end, and faux tears on his, she was sure. But they didn’t know, and he would never say, if she had just taken pictures of the drywall… 

This battle, whatever would come, would be a he said she said. She had no evidence, no photos, nothing substantial, and he had the benefit of speaking first. 

Maria lowered her head onto the steering wheel. She tried not to cry, she tried to keep her breath even, but it was impossible. Not when she kept seeing his face red with rage each time she closed her eyes. Knuckles white with drywall dust and paint. Her wrist black from where he had held on to her too tight.

When Maria did lift her head, ten minutes had passed, and Cat texted that they had gotten Jane in their group chat, and they’d be thirty minutes. Maria wiped her eyes and went upstairs to pack a weekend bag. She texted Benjamin the plan, and his response was: good, best to keep out of the public eye for now.

The single dropped within the hour, Maria was already on the road heading North, Lizzie was posted at the steering wheel, and Cat had given up shotgun for Maria. 

“You wanna listen?” Cat asked, bouncing in her seat.

“Not really, but you can.” 

Maria’s recorded voice filled the car, and they sat in silence. They had listened to the demos and voice memos she had sent, but none were prepared for what it would sound like fully produced.

He's punching walls again…

*

His phone buzzed. 

Which, usually, wouldn’t have been enough to get his attention. Usually it was just David yelling at him over text to finish whatever he was working on, or some unimportant social media update. 

Robin put down his guitar however, needing an excuse to take a break, but it was the last thing he had expected. 

Loveday:

Website:  🌙 Moon Princess 🌙 on Instagram (Instagram.com) The Truth Revealed…

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

For Drabble

Will charity x phileas fogg

First date ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Part of the Let The Adventure Begin au. :)

This is on the ship from New York to London in episode eight.

On with the fic!

--

"I am sure that everything will go just fine, monsieur." Passepartout spoke as he fixed Phileas' tie, then smoothed the lapel of his jacket. "It's just a date."

"Easy for you to say, Passepartout." Phileas frowned, shifting on his feet, "I have not 'dated' or even 'courted' anyone in years! Decades, really."

"I am sure that Charity doesn't care about that. Besides, he asked you to join him for dinner."

"Alone." Phileas said, his voice small, his cheeks warm.

It shouldn't be this panic inducing, they had agreed to courting, to taking things slow for Phileas' sake. But they were still a few days away from London and William had asked for Phileas to join him in the dining hall of the ship for a meal, without their other friends.

Phileas had said yes, but hours later, after being left alone with his thoughts... well...

He overthought how things could go wrong and was now worried sick that it would be a disaster!

Passepartout clucked his tongue and stepped back, arms crossed. "Monsieur, I am telling you this now, you. Will. Be. Fine. Now, go out there and meet him, he's probably waiting."

Phileas sighed, nodding, and made his way out of his private cabin on the ship. Why was he so scared? He wanted this to work, he wanted to be happy with Will. They had kissed, a few times now, heck, they had even danced together in the privacy of his cabin that first night on this ship.

He had even protected Will when they were in Nevada against a dangerous man with a gun!

Why was he so nervous about having a meal with Captain William Charity? It's not like they haven't eaten together before.

His cheeks burned as he remembered the wedding feast in India, where Will had showed him the different dishes and which ones would be less... spicy, considering his reaction to the first one he tried.

He found himself in the dining room, having unconsciously made his way there while lost in his thoughts, and found that William was already there. The curly haired man was smiling in his direction, waving him over to the table he had chosen. Phileas swallowed and made his way over.

"G-Good evening, William." He greeted before taking his seat.

"And good evening to you as well, angel." Will smiled, using that nickname he couldn't seem to let go. Phileas really didn't understand why he used it, but he never stopped Will from using it. He kind of liked it, honestly.

"You look rather dashing tonight." Phileas spoke, trying to keep the conversation going. This was the proper thing to do, right? Oh God, he was so out of practice.

Will chuckled and gave his jacket a small tug. "Thank you, picked out my best outfit for our dinner tonight. And, might I say, you look so very handsome yourself."

Phileas made a startled noise at how smoothly Will spoke like that, and could only nod when the man had offered to fill his wine glass from the bottle that was on the table.

"You know," Will started as he set the bottle side, "it's okay to be nervous, Phileas. I'm not going to judge or be upset with you if things aren't perfect. I don't expect them to be. It's a simple dinner, a chance for us to talk, to get to know each other better. You can relax."

"I... I'm sorry." Phileas sighed, sipping at the wine before continuing. "It's been so long, I feel so out of touch with this sort of thing."

"How were things between you and Estella when you dated?"

"They were..." He thought back on those old days, when he was younger. He smiled gently at the memories he still held so dear to his heart. "They were filled with talking, with planning and plotting of world traveling. Of places to see, things to do. Of happy chats about nothing in particular. She understood I was not as outgoing as her, but she let me follow her at my own pace. I can be a bit boring, but she was fine with that. I hope... that you are fine with that as well."

"You're not boring." Will reached out, fingers brushing against Phileas' own. "You're marvelous, smart, fascinating, and so very much someone I'd love to talk about nothing with."

Phileas stared at him, at the honesty in those hazel eyes, and he smiled, just a little. "Then let's do that. Will you let me go at my own pace?"

"Of course, angel." Will smiled and Phileas felt himself relaxed more.

[orange-cheetah]

The Thief and the Phantom's First Meeting

Undead Girl Murder Farce: Volume 2, Chapter 0

[Disclaimer: Translated from Chinese text. Some lines taken from the subtitles of the anime.]

"Good morning, Erik."

Upon waking up, he hears a friendly voice calling him.

The man groans, getting up awkwardly. Both of his hands are tied behind him.

He is in an unfamiliar, strange room. The walls and ceiling are bare stone, though a lavish dining table laden with desserts or fruit trays sits in the middle of the room. He can hear faint sounds of water.

On the chair before him sits a young man with his legs crossed.

"Your face without the mask is unexpectedly quite handsome, you know."

The man realizes that the mask he likes using has been taken away, to be put on the table. Hurriedly lowering his head, he tries to cover his face with his white hair. The young man smiles and says: "Don't be so shy."

The young man is about twenty-five or -six years of age. Beautiful golden hair and a fierce[1] gaze leave a deep impression; a tuxedo hugs his slender body, draped in a black cloak. The buttons on his jacket are probably real emeralds. His expression, dress and attitude overflow with considerable confidence; instead of a king, he gives one the sense that his style is more of a prince's. And a capricious, playboy prince at that. The man instinctively feels that this person is of the sort completely opposite to himself.

"Right, how do you feel, Erik? Because you've been unconscious for about half the day. Want to drink anything?"

"How do you know my real name?"

"Investigating in advance is the basics of the work. Oh, I know lots of things. You're from Persia. You were born with your white hair and disfigured face. Your singing voice is an unparalleled tenor. You live 23 floors beneath the Paris Opera. You've evaded capture for the past 20 years, elusive as though a specter; the nickname you were given was 'the Phantom of the Opera.' Am I right, our shy gentleman."

While listing out all sorts of information unceasingly, the young man plays with a large ruby with one gloved hand.

Right, he's beginning to recallーーit was a splendid night like any other. As it was the closing night of Don Carlos[2], the opera house had been very lively; the man was watching the opera from Box 5 of the second floor. But something strange had happened while Act 3 was in progress: this phantom thief had descended from the skies, stealing the ruby worn by the female vocalist. As it was the singer he adores, he had gone after the thief. After pursuing him to the top level of seats he had been hit by a counterattack from the enemy, and thenーーwhen he woke up he was already here.

"What is this place?"

"L'Aiguille Creuse[3]," the young man replies with a phrase he's never heard before. "Though I'm still working on it. It's a tad uncomfortable to stay in for the moment."

"Why did you kidnap me?"

"I stole you." Immediately corrected. "Along with this ruby. Things should be organized and collected to one place. I can't bear to see this passionate jewel never be more than some stage prop, and it's no fun to have a true phantom living in obscurity beneath an opera house. They should both belong to me; it feels more coordinated this way."

"Enough chatter. What are you after?"

The young man shrugs. "There's a job I'd like to do in London, but my subordinates have all ran off, so I'm a little short-staffed at the moment."

So he wants to find someone to help with this job? What an unorthodox way of recruitment. The man carefully asks: "What are you planning on stealing?"

"'The Penultimate Night.'"

"...Phileas Fogg's?"

"That's right."

"Are you mad?" No wonder all his subordinates ran. "I have heard of the jewel of the Fogg mansion, but it's impossible to obtain. That mansion's security is impregnable. And in London, there's Sherlock Holmes."

"Here, there's Arsène Lupin."

The young man touches the ruby to his chest.

If heard only from the sidelines, it would feel nothing more than a very arrogant statement. But behind the tone, one can feel an inexplicable majesty that is different from the common bluffing or exaggerated fantasies of fools. As though certain of the future.

The man senses the abnormality.

What His Royal Highness exudes is not confidence.

It's conviction.

Breaking through the mansion security that others would quail before, prevailing over the famous detective coined 'the best in the world'; these are all established matters in his mind and are to be expected. The plan is already perfect and flawless, all hypotheticals accounted for, leaving no rate of failure to speak of ー where would one even spare the time to be arrogant. It may well be madness talking, yetーー

Meeting Lupin's gaze once more. Golden eyes as though the sun.

"Any chance of winning?"

"I wouldn't have invited you here if there weren't."

Stepping into the Phantom's heart as though heat waves of summer. The life spent hiding under the opera house until now, the self-isolation imprisoned by the ugly right face; all of this is easily melted by the sun. Guided by that light, a foolish feeling surges up. As though wanting to cause a scene on the stage of a farce, a young and energetic impulse.

After a while, he stands up. At the same moment, the ropes that had been tying his hands together fall to the ground.

"You have other special skills besides singing?" Lupin says. "When did you undo them?"

"Around the time you said 'unexpectedly quite handsome'. I've always been good at handling ropes."

"I admire you even more now. So, what are you going to do? Go home?"

"I was stolen, wasn't I? I'll follow my owner's orders."

Strictly speaking, it's his loss this time. Even if he's unwilling to, he could only agree to a contract.

The Phantom approaches the table to pick up his mask, putting it on the right side of his face, experiencing the sense of coordination that had been mentioned in their conversation just now.

Bowing respectfully to his owner, he recites a line from an opera: "La Juive[4], Act 2. 'But come! Be it heaven or earth, the self-same fate and destiny awaits the two of us.'" [5]

"Though you've done well to quote these lines." Lupin surveys the surroundings of the hideout with an expression as though suppressing laughter. "I'm afraid, Erik, we are at sea."

Footnotes:

强悍 (qiáng hàn): strong, powerful

Based on conflicts in the life of Carlos, Prince of Asturias (1545–1568). Though he was betrothed to Elisabeth of Valois, part of the peace treaty ending the Italian War of 1551–59 between the Houses of Habsburg and Valois demanded that she be married instead to his father Philip II of Spain. It was commissioned and produced by the Théâtre Impérial de l'Opéra (Paris Opera) and given its premiere at the Salle Le Peletier on 11 March 1867. (wikipedia)

The Hollow Needle.

The Jewess. Tells of an impossible love between a Christian man and a Jewish woman. (wikipedia)

Act 2, Scene IV. Presumably taken from two separate sections, and I couldn't find any mention of 'heaven or earth'. You can read it here (pp. 19)

LEOPOLD. I know! But come! Let thine heart be mine, Let love enchain us, and Jew or Christian, Thy lot is mine. Let heaven's wrath o'erwhelm me. Thy love wants mine, The rest is nothing, I regret not.

RACHEL AND LEOPOLD. Let thine heart be mine, Let love enchain us and, Jew or Gentile, Thy love is mine. For us the self-same fate and destiny

[animefankotaro]

Trans Phineas and Isabella

Phineas and Isabella become friends as soon as they met. Phineas was a smart kid. He was always building things in his backyard with his brother Ferb. Isabella would always give them a helping hand being a Fireside Girl and all. But before they were Phineas and Isabella they had different names that they'd like to forget. When they were little Phineas was a girl and Isabella was a boy. Or least they that's how everyone saw them. Phineas usually preferred pants or shorts. He didn't hate dresses or shorts he just didn't care for them. He kept his hair short for a girl. Linda just saw it as a phase like those emo kids. Isabella could be pretty girly loving dresses. More than anything did she want to be a Fireside Girl. Of course they were called that for a reason and she was a boy so she couldn't join. By spending time with each other they soon found out they were similar.

“Can you hand me the screwdriver next?” Phineas asked Isabella. She gave it to him.

“Hammer.” Isabella gave him the hammer.

“Donut.”

“Donut?” Isabella questioned.

“A kids gotta eat.” Phineas took a bite out of it. Isabella giggled.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Isabella asked.

“If it's where Perry goes I don't know actually.” “No. It's different. You know how you prefer to have your hair short and wear pants?” Phineas nodded. “Well. Me too. Though rather than have short hair I want mine to be long. I also wanna wear dresses. I- I think I'm a girl.” Isabella said. Phineas looked at her.

“Really? Because, well, I think I'm a boy.” This surprised Isabella. “How long have you felt this way?” Phineas asked.

“A while. I think I realized it when I wanted to join the Fireside Girls but was told I couldn't.”

“I think I've felt like this since meeting Ferb. I always wanted a brother. Now I realize I also wanna be one too.”

“So you feel like you're a boy?” Isabella asked. Phineas nodded

“Yeah. I haven't old anyone yet. Not even Ferb. Though it wouldn't surprise me if he does know. Only you do. It's actually nice to know another person like me.”

“I know. For a long time I felt scared to tell anyone. Now that I know that we're alike we can talk and support teach other. We only have each other after all.” Isabella said the last part with a smile. She's had a crush on him for a while. He was smart, funny, and of course handsome. Though he didn't seem to notice.

“You're right!!”

“I am?” Isabella blushed.

“We do only have each other. Now that we're out to one another we can support each other by telling everyone we know!”

“What do you mean.” Isabella felt a little down knowing he didn't seem to have the same feelings.

“You feel like a girl. I feel like a boy. I'll help you come out and you help me. Than we won't be alone anymore!” Phineas said with glee.

“Tell everyone? I don't know... What if they hate me.”

“Then you'll still have me. I promise. I also know they won't hate you too. Let's do it together!” Phineas held out his hand. Isabella smiled and took it.

“By the way.” Phineas asked. “What's your girl name?”

“Oh.. it's uh... Isabella.” Her heart skipped.

“That's a beautiful name. It fits you.” Isabella blushed. “You can call me Phineas.”

“Phineas?” Isabella giggled. “What kind of name is that?”

“I named myself after Phileas Fogg. For the longest time I though it was “Phineas” rather than Phileas.” Isabella laughed again.

“All right then Phineas it is.”

So the two friends decided to do just that. They decided on Ferb first. They were already practically brothers anyway. They could then tell Candace, the other kids they spend time with, and then their parents. While working on a project Phineas and Isabella told Ferb.

“Hey, Ferb. There's something I need to tell you.” Phineas said. “Ferb looked at him blankless. “I'm a boy. I wanna be your brother for now on. I've always thought of us as brothers rather than brother and sister. My real name is Phineas. I hope we can still be partners.”

“I'm trans too. Except I'm a girl. My name is Isabella” Isabella said.

“You're okay with that, right.” Phineas asked. Ferb was quiet a moment before talking.

“Is that all? I thought you were going to say something crazy like you don't want to build anymore.”

“So you are okay with it.” Phineas was glad. Ferb nodded. Phineas was happy to have Ferb. Next was Candace.

“Hey Candace. Can I make a confession.” Phineas said. Candace got from her seat and walked to Phineas.

“What kind of confession?”

“It's something I've been hiding from you and mom and dad for a long time.” Candace started jumping in place like crazy. She took out a tape recorder and put it to Phineas face.

“Confess up so I can finally bust you!” Candace smiled.

“I'm a boy. My name is Phineas. I wanna be your brother for now on.”

“YES. BUSTED BUSTED BUSTED... wait what.”

“And I'm a girl. My name is Isabella.”

“You don't hate me do you?” Phineas asked.

“Of course not. It's not much that I do this but come here.” Candace hugged her new brother. Next they told the other kids. They all took it rather well. The FireSide Girls said they would help get Isabella in the group. Now it was their parents. Lawernce, Linda, and Vivian. They were all in the back drinking some iced tea and talking. Both Phineas and Isabella walked up to them.

“Mom. There's something I need to tell you.” Phineas said.

“If it's where Perry is I don't know where he ran off to, sweetie.”

“No. It's something else. You know how I like to wear boys clothes and have short hair? Linda took a sip of the tea.

“It's all right. Your dad and I talked it over. We know you want to be a boy.”

“You do?” Phinieas looked surprised.

“Yes. And we support you. We've known for a while. We were just waiting for when you were ready.” Lawrence said.

“I don't know what to say but thank you.” Phineas smiled. Vivian looked over to Isabella

“Is there something you want to say, kiddo.”

“Yes, mom. I'm a girl. My real name is a Isabella. I've always felt like a girl and will do anything to be your daughter.” Vivian nodded.

“I know. I've also known for a while now. I can tell you've been in my closet. You're Isabella my beautiful daughter.” She and Isabella hugged.

“Oh, mom.”

“And I think it's time I sighed you up for the Fireside Girls.” The family all had tea together and talked when a platypus walked up to them.

“Oh. There you are Perry.” Phineas said.

[ss9slb]

A sliver of courage and a second chance

Part 4:

“No absolutely not!”

“Please Madam Jenkins I boarded here before and I was a good lodger.” Passepartout tried once more to convince his former landlady, yet she had taken one look at Abigail and him together and all but shut the door in his face.

“I told you no, besides I’m full up, try old Mrs Poole down the street, she’s less fussy about who she takes on.” Mrs Jenkins insisted, this time succeeding in shutting the door on them.

It had been a similar situation wherever they had tried to find lodgings. The landlady would take a look at the two of them together and either declare that she had no room or would make less than subtle references about keeping up her standards. Mrs Jenkins had been Passepartout’s last hope, she at least knew him, and had a passing fondness for the young Frenchman who had exemplary manners and wasn’t above doing any heavy lifting for her when it was needed. Yet even she had refused to lodge them and Passepartout doubted Mrs Poole would be any different.

“This is ridiculous.” Abigail huffed; this was her first experience of trying to secure lodgings anywhere and the overt prejudice of her fellow Londoners shocked and dismayed her. “How can people turn down good money?”

“I only wish I could say it isn’t typical.” Passepartout muttered, his own difficulties when he first arrived in London gave him more perspective. Yet there was no denying their current circumstances were more challenging than even Jean had feared, he hadn’t expected Abigail’s father to sack her as well as refuse to let them live with them. His wages from Mr Fogg would only last so long when they were having to pay for hotel accommodation for the both of them; this was not how he wanted to start off their married life together.

It gutted Jean to admit it but as much as he loved Abigail, maybe this was a battle they just couldn’t win, maybe they had made a terrible mistake, maybe she would be happier without him in her life…

“Don’t.”

Startled, Jean looked up to see Abigail looking at him knowingly. “What?”

“Whatever you were thinking of saying, don’t say it; you made me a promise Jean Passepartout and I intend to stick around to see that you keep it.”

“Only married a few weeks and you can already read me amour?”

“Oh, please like it is difficult.” Abigail teased, yet she was the one that needed reassuring, reassuring that despite his promises Jean wasn’t going to bail just because he thought it was the right thing to do. “This would be so much easier if father would just come to his senses.”

“He loves you, and he thinks you are making a mistake. He is not doing this to be cruel.”

“Well he’s wrong and he needs to know that.”

“He’s not going to listen to either one of us.”

“No, but there is someone he might listen to.” Abigail had a kernel of an idea. “And lucky for us he’s already on our side.”

---/---

“I don’t…I refuse to believe…” Estella was frustrated and that came across clearly as she slapped her hands down on the leather settee, her body coiled with the violent need to lash out until someone felt as badly as she did; instead she settled for pushing herself out of her seat to pace the length of Phileas’s library.

Back and forth Fogg watched her pace, unsure if he should reach out to comfort her, unsure if he would be welcome after passing on Coleridge’s advice.

“You said it would be easy and now you are telling me to wait.” Estella was vibrating with rage. “I’m his mother Phileas, every day apart from my child is like having my heart cut out of my chest. Every day I wake up and I go through the same thing over and over again…”

“Estella, I understand…”

“NO, you don’t; you aren’t a parent Phileas, you can never understand what that feels like!” Estella snapped back, so preoccupied with her own feelings she missed the way Phileas seemed to collapse in on himself, swallowing down his emotions before they broke free.

For a long moment an awkward silence hung between them. Phileas awkwardly poised on the edge of his seat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he struggled to find the right words. Estella’s shoulders heaving slightly as she tried to blink away her tears, it was one thing to cry when she was alone in her hotel room, it was another thing entirely to do so in front of others, in front of Phileas…

“I’m sorry, I tried, and I will keep on trying.” Phileas’s voice cracked despite his best efforts, and it was a relief to see the tension ease in Estella’s body, for her to turn back to him and offer him a half smile.

“I swear Estella this isn’t over. I just had to be honest with you about the situation; your father’s influence…”

“I know all about my father’s influence, Phileas.” Estella sighed, her exhaustion showing as she moved to take the armchair next to Phileas’s with less than her usual grace. “Surely you haven’t forgotten why we were going to Paris to get married?” She added with more than a hint of bitterness.

“Yes…I wasn’t exactly who he had in mind for you. At least in that he wasn’t entirely wrong.” Phileas stared down at his hands, surprised when Estella reached out and gripped them tightly.

“He was entirely wrong, and I will not hear you disparaging yourself Phileas. You were…You are a good man. So, what if you had no interest in politics and no ambition to wield power? My father did not care about what would make a good husband for me, he only cared about having a son-in-law that would be useful to him. It was nothing you did Phileas; you need to know that.”

“I could have done something with my life, other than living off my inheritance.”

“You have done something with your life. You are a good person, you stand up for what is right, you look after your friends, you are loyal beyond even your own interest; and you would have been a wonderful husband and father, that should have been more than enough for any father-in-law!”

“Thank you.” It was almost impossible to force those words out, Estella’s stalwart defence of him caused his heart to swell in his chest. He had only ever wanted her to be proud of him, to prove to her and thus to himself that he had ever been worthy enough to love her.

“Phileas I’m the one who should apologise, I was the one who brought my troubles to your door. All you have done is try to help and all I have done is lash out at you.”

“You never need to apologise to me for loving your son.” Phileas insisted. “If more parents cared about their child’s wellbeing the way you do instead of considering them pawns to move about for their own advantage.”

“We certainly didn’t have the best experience when it came to loving fathers.” Estella commiserated, Phileas had never spoken much about his father, the second son who had gone into the army and married into his wealth. Yet she had gleaned enough from what he had said, and the way Phileas tensed whenever the man had been mentioned to recognise, he had probably terrorised his quietly spoken son.

By contrast her own father was simply selfish and conceited, he had refused to give them his blessing, her dowry or allow them to be married from his house, but he hadn’t stopped Estella when she decided to leave home to be with Phileas. Of course, if it hadn’t been for the small inheritance from her grandmother Estella would never have had the funds to go anywhere.

“Estella.”

“Hmmm.” Drawn from memories of the past Estella looked up to see Phileas looking down at her, his expression full of compassion and affection that took her back twenty years. For a moment he was still that wonderful boy that had first stolen her heart and she was right back to being that debutante who had been hurt by the cruel comments of her peers, who had literally stumbled into his arms.

“We will think of something. Even if we have to steal him back and make a run for it.”

Snorting in a distinctly unladylike manner at that image, Estella smiled for the first time in weeks. “Oh, I can see that. Providing Mr Fogg can still take his tea promptly at three pm.”

“Believe me I have experience, I even escaped in a balloon from the Paris Gendarmes and there was no time to pack a full tea set.” Phileas teased in return, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Now if I cannot find another balloon then I will just have to improvise. And speaking of tea…” He added, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. “Even though it is half past the hour…”

“Oh, I hadn’t realised it had gotten so late. I really should be heading back…I can only imagine how your neighbours must be gossiping.” Estella drew back suddenly.

It had been tempting that image, her and Phileas and David running away from everything and everyone. Yet it was a foolish pipe dream, and even thinking it made Estella feel guilty. How would Fabio feel, less than a year after his death, this man she had loved so dearly, and she was already imagining another in his place, not just by her side but fathering their son.

“Yes of course.” Phileas could do nothing but agree, he had allowed himself to get carried away, and Estella was right to remind him that that ship had sailed years ago. She had said as much in New York, and Phileas was a fool to think that her coming to him was for anything more than help in recovering her son. When she had Davide back, Estella would probably head straight back to New York without so much as a second glance in his direction.

Standing when Estella began to gather her things, Phileas wanted to ask when he would see her again, he had promised to help her, and yet so far, he had failed to do anything useful. So, he followed, his tongue tied as much as his thoughts, as she headed towards the door.

“I will let you know if I come up with anything.” Phileas finally managed, grasping desperately for anything.

“And I will let you know if I hear anything new.” Estella replied, the very picture of a polite society lady, as Grayson moved to open the door for her.

Yet before she could step through it, in barrelled two individuals.

“Pardon Madam.” Passepartout was all manners, dipping his hat at the lady they had almost knocked over.

“Phileas!” Abigail greeted their friend with relief, barely noticing at first, they weren’t alone, and thus not noticing the way the other woman’s face tightened at her use of Fogg's given name, yet Passepartout did, glancing between the pair and noticing the awkward tension.

“Cheri perhaps you should catch your breath.” Jean laboured the endearment, his hunch playing off when the atmosphere lightened a little. “Again, Mr Fogg apologies for simply calling like this.”

“The two of you never need to apologise for visiting. In fact, I was just going to call for tea.” Fogg was pleased to see his friends, after this awkward parting with Estella they would be the perfect distraction. “If you would like to head into the library, I will be with you in a moment.”

“Oh yes sorry.” Abigail had now noticed there was a newcomer amongst them and the reporter in her couldn’t resist the urge to dig just a little. “Apologies for almost knocking you over just then I’m Abigail Fix…Sorry Abigail Passpartout.” Abigail blushed at her faux pas as she offered the slender brunette her hand to shake, pleasantly surprised when the well-dressed woman not only accepted it but shook it firmly.

“Estella Rossi.”

For a moment Abigail could only cling to her hand, her mouth dropping open like a cod fish, before manners caught up with her. “I am most delighted and frankly astonished to meet you.”

“Ah yes, I take it you are the roving reporter I have to thank for my notoriety.” Estella retorted with more than a little bite.

It had been humiliating to read her own name in that news story, even if it had been the start of her thawing a little towards Phileas. At least no one she knew in New York had made the connection, but Estella could only imagine how certain London drawing rooms had enjoyed gloating over her involvement in such a juicy scandal. That it might have played a part in her son being taken from her, well Estella might struggle to forgive Madam Passpartout for that.

“Yes I…” Abigail was stunned, she had apologised to Phileas at length about exposing his secret to the world, but she had never taken a second to realise that there were two people whose heartache she had put on display for public consumption. “I’m sorry that was wrong of me…I apologised to Phileas, but I didn’t even think…”

“About the woman you all but accused in print of throwing him over and breaking his heart.” Estella couldn’t help it, the first time she had read those words, the story in fact the opposite of the heartache she had experienced she had been furious. Her husband had been buried only a few months, Davide had been struggling to cope, her husband’s family had been putting pressure on her, it had been the icing on the cake.

“I know there is nothing I can say that can undo what I did.”

“No there isn’t.”

“Estella please, she didn’t know.” Phileas tried to intervene, ignoring Passpartout’s frantic warning not to get involved.

“Then she shouldn’t have written anything, but I suppose I shouldn’t expect anything different from Fortescue’s child!” Estella retorted, knowing as she said that she was being unfair, but unable to stop herself after Phileas came to the younger woman’s defence instead of hers. It was petty but she hated it. It was just another sign that she had been replaced in his life.

Besides, her life had been turned upside down, and they had been off having the time of their lives travelling the world, even now she was the one suffering and they were young and in love and married. It was like a slap in the face, everything she could never have again.

“Don’t talk about my father…” Abigail began, her porcelain skin flushed as bright a red as her hair.

“I think we should all just calm down.” Jean insisted, laying a restraining hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Cheri please, now is not the time.”

Biting down Abigail nodded, allowing Jean to lead her into the library, yet she kept her gaze locked on the pair in the hallway as they stood in awkward silence.

“That was unfair of you.” Phileas whispered softly, “I know you are hurting Estella and you didn’t need to accept her apology but bringing Fortescue into it, that was beneath you.”

Swallowing down the shame, part of her knew Phileas was right, he was always a better person than she was, but Estella wasn’t ready to admit it. They were probably here to plan their next great adventure, an adventure that once again didn’t include her, and she would be left trying and failing to get her son back all by herself.

Fussing with her gloves Estella nodded to Grayson to open the door. There was nothing left to say, nothing that she could say to redeem herself that wasn’t an apology and she wasn’t ready to do that. It was better to let him go, to bury the past and let Phileas have the wonderful life he deserved, without her and her problems dragging him down.

“Apologies Mr Fogg I have already taken up too much of your time. I thank you for the efforts you have made on my behalf, but I think it is perhaps best that I handle things myself from now on.”

“Estella don’t…”

Yet Fogg’s words fell on deaf ears and empty air. She was gone, again, and Phileas wasn’t foolish enough to think there would be a third time she would walk back into his life.

“God dammit!” Fogg yelled, mussing up his hair and he pulled on it, striking out at the innocent umbrella stand and sending it smacking against the wall.

Creeping out of the library, her anger cooling at her friend’s very real distress, Abigail couldn’t help but feel guilty, it wasn’t like she had had set out deliberately to drive Estella away, but her past actions had caused this. Estella had every right to be mad, just as Fogg certainly had been, he had said far worse things to her than Estella had and yet she had been able to keep her temper. Now they had fought, and it was because of her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

Sighing as he pondered on the futility of the situation Phileas could only shake his head. This had been his fault, deep down he had wanted this to be a second chance, a way for him to redeem himself in Estella’s eyes. He had failed and she was in pain, was it any wonder she lashed out and cast him off, he was just as useless as ever.

“You should go after her Phileas; she was just upset.” Jean insisted he could see Fogg giving up just when it was time for him to fight even harder. “You know how women can be.” He added earning himself an elbow to the side from his own bride.

“If you let her go away angry now, she is going to convince herself that you didn’t care enough to go after her.”

“My husband has a point.”

“Only one?” Jean teased, when Abigail sounded almost reluctant to admit it.

“She doesn’t want me.” Phileas replied softly, smoothing his hair back into place, as he tried to gather himself back together, the very picture of a controlled English gentleman. “Now how about that tea?”

“She was angry at me; you were just collateral damage.” Abigail called out as Fogg strode back into the library, she could see the barriers going back up and if they waited too long Fogg would convince himself the situation was hopeless just like he had on the Island.

“And indifferent people don’t get jealous.” Passepartout muttered in a sotto voice, only loud enough for Abigail to hear him.

The quirk of her eyebrow poised the question and Jean added. “You should have seen the look she shot you when you called him Phileas, and when he stepped in to defend you, Cheri If looks could kill.”

“Jean, we have to fix this.” Abigail insisted, causing her husband to sigh in resignation.

“So, convince your father to accept us, find gainful employment and fix Mr Fogg’s love life.” Passepartout felt exhausted just saying it out loud. Yet it had brought the twinkle back into Abigail’s eyes and he would do anything, short of stealing the moon to keep it there.

----/----

[chimicalbomb]

Conseil and Parspartout meet by chance at a bar, for example, they have a day off. And not knowing each other, they share their experiences about their masters. They traveled, everything happened, they have something to share with a random guy whom they bought a drink 😏

Conseil and Pierre Aronnax just arrived in England ,the professor had some very important business at the royal science institute,so his servant followed him without a word.

After arriving to their temporary home prepared by the institute,Pierre had to leave and since he didn't need any help,and obliged his servant to enjoy his day in London. This didn't sit well with Conseil,it wasn't the norm to be free and walk around randomly,but he couldn't do anything but to stuff some money into his brown pants and get dressed for a little exploring. Nothing to extravagant,he wasn't going to chatter with ladies,he just wanted to look presentable to he wouldn't embarass his master.

As the door closed behind him,he took a deep breath and looked around him,finally being able to enjoy time in peace,every moment seemed to take awhile to pass,like the time suddenly stopped. So,he decided to take his time,from seeing all the beautiful english gardens to walking past the Buckingham Palace and humming a little tune.

In the afternoon,he looked around for a good place to spend his time,and finding a nice bar,he entered a bit shyly,since he was quite self conscious when he was alone. His english wasn't quite the best,but even so,he greeted the barman and ordered a pretty tame drink.

Suddenly,Passpartout heard an english he somehow recognised,that slight french accent that was still present in his own talk! "Frenchmen! Oh France! When you can't come to her,she comes to You!" Dreamly thought the interested Passpartout,as he got up and walked to the table that the Young gentleman was sitting at.

"Bonjour!" Passpartout greeted in his playful nature,while taking a seat,smiling while taking a small sip of his whiskey.

Conseil suddenly snapped out of his own thoughts and smiled at the sound of the familiar language.

"Ah! Bonjour,Monsieur!"

After quite an awkward exchange of words ,they made their introductions and that's how both of them found out they were two servants. The debate began! Which was the stricter master? Who had more free time? How was the salary,the living conditions?

"My Master,Mr. Fogg,even though i look at him as a friend now,so i sometimes call him Phileas,let's me have my afternoon off until dinner! It's quite pleasant! Mostly because i don't have much to do,Mr. Fogg is a very clean man" explained Passpartout with much pride.

"Oh! That's very nice of him! I never get a day off,not that Mister Aronnax has something against it,i just don't find myself fond of free time,working for him is very relaxing,even though traveling can get...a bit tiring" Conseil sighed a bit and looked out the window.

"Travelling?! Tell me about it! Mister Fogg on my first day made me pack my bags,since he wanted to make a trip around the world in 80 days for some bet! Can you imagine? I thought he was crazy at first!" Exclamed the taller servant ,raising up from his seat with excitement.

"No way, you wouldn't believe this,but i was stuck on a submarine for 7 months with Mr.Aronnax." silently replied Conseil,trying not to laugh.

Passpartout almost choked,and started laughing,putting one arm around the slimmer frenchman,making Conseil laugh too!

But then,things got even more interesting,both of them started to plot am even bigger trip! Oh what a beautiful thing that would be! On land,under and over water! If that was possible! If only they weren't just strangers!

After Conseil insisted he brought a drink to the jolly servant next to him,he started drawing in napkins intricate maps,Passpartout letting Conseil talk about interesting animal species, letting eachother get enchanted by eachother's knowledge.

And at the end of the evening,only napkins and empty glasses remained at that table filled with dreams,hopes,and nostalgic memories.

Anywhere you'll go,friends will find you. Even just for a day.

{THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE PROMPT!!}

[liunaticfringe]

(via Lucy Liu's Independent Woman - Interview Magazine)

There have been many great sidekick pairings in the history of modern literature. Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer, Phileas Fogg and Jean Passepartout, Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet…the list goes on. Yet, it seems there has never been a delightfully tumultuous relationship that comes close to echoing the one embodied by rogue detective Sherlock Holmes and his faithful friend and assistant Dr. John Watson. Written in the form of short stories by Arthur Conan Doyle between the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the opium-den loving Holmes would terrorize London with his intellectual, astute, and stubborn prowess, with Dr. Watson providing medical expertise and chronicling their entertaining exploits along the way.

Doyle’s works have now long been entered into the public domain, with many film and television adaptions cropping up every few years. Still, when CBS announced in 2012 that it would be turning Doyle’s works into an hour-long crime-drama series titled Elementary, it elicited an unusually high response—this was mostly due to the news that a woman would, in fact, be portraying Watson. Her name would be Joan, not John. And she’s now a fallen from grace surgeon-turned-sober companion and private detective, forfeiting her “Dr.” title in the process. The woman chosen to take on this exciting, contemporary role of Joan Watson was none other than seasoned actress Lucy Liu.

Liu, who’s best known for her roles as a fierce and ill-mannered lawyer in Ally McBeal, an ass-kicking “angel” in the rebooted Charlie’s Angels, and an equally ass-kicking bad girl in the Kill Bill series, certainly provides the yin to the yang of Jonny Lee Miller’s gritty portrayal of Holmes. Elementary chronicles the duo’s relationship as they consult for the NYPD on various criminal cases while living in a shared brownstone in Brooklyn Heights. Initially starting off in Season One as a substance-free friend to the fresh-out-of-rehab Holmes with a keen interest in solving crimes, Watson quickly transformed into a sharp and observant right-hand woman who now clearly has the aptitude to work on her own. And it appears she’ll be doing just that—the end of Season Two left viewers witnessing Watson’s decision to move out of the brownstone and start a new career as a solo private detective, seemingly fed-up with Holmes’ erratic behavior.

The warm and delightful Liu recently called up Interview from her home in New York City to discuss Elementary’s upcoming third season.

DEVON IVIE: Were you on set today?

LUCY LIU: I was running around like a maniac, yeah. It’s beautiful today, it started getting a little bit cooler again. But of course I’ve been bitten by the two mosquitos that are still alive in New York City.

IVIE: I know you were recently at New York Comic Con. How was it?

LIU: It was amazing. It’s such a spectator place. Not only do you get super fans, but you also get people who are curious and inventive and imaginative. It’s fun.

IVIE: Did you run into any cosplayers dressed as Joan Watson?

LIU: Oh, no, I don’t know about that. That’s funny! We did a panel with a huge audience so I couldn’t really see if anyone was wearing anything specific, but it’s an excuse for kids and adults to get dressed up and just be crazy. You know you’ve made it when you have super-fans out there.

IVIE: When you first read the scripts for Elementary, what was it that attracted you to the role of Joan?

LIU: I liked the fact that it was going to be about [Joan and Sherlock’s] relationship and their friendship, and bringing that into modern times. And I thought it was wonderful to change up the gender.

IVIE: Did you immerse yourself in Arthur Conan Doyle’s work as preparation at all?

LIU: I did, I did! I started reading the short stories. I never read them before so it was a really great excuse to read them. I can’t believe it was written so long ago, because it’s so current. The characters are so colorful, which is why I think there are so many incarnations of Watson and Holmes.

IVIE: Do you have a favorite story? I love “A Scandal in Bohemia.”

LIU: There were some pretty amazing stories. The one that stood out to me, which was a Watson story that I got to know him a little more through, was “The Hound of the Baskervilles.” He really is on his own in that. Of course it turns out that Holmes has been there all along, but it’s interesting looking into his interior.

IVIE: Yeah, the entirety of “The Hound of the Baskervilles” is narrated just by Watson. And his diary and letters, too.

LIU: Yeah, I think it’s really cool. We started incorporating that into the show, too, the letters and journals.

IVIE: Has this detective genre always appealed to you? Did you grow up watching or reading detective whodunits?

LIU: I remember more of the old school Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys sort of thing. I also grew up with the Scooby-Doo mysteries. Remember when the villain would go, “I would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for you rascal-y kids!” Those were the kind of the things I immersed myself in. I have to say that my mother has always been a huge fan of Columbo and Murder, She Wrote, so this show was her dream come true. I don’t think she totally understood what was going on with Ally McBeal. [laughs]

IVIE: I’ve enjoyed witnessing Joan’s evolution throughout the course of the show, starting off as a sober companion and eventually ending up as a trusty sidekick and confidant to Sherlock. What can we expect from Joan in Season Three?

LIU: When you see them in the third season, you see some friction between the two characters. Joan is now on her own, she has her own detective agency, has a boyfriend, and has been without Sherlock for eight months. She’s got her own apartment, she’s settled, and he shows back up. I think she’s a little bit hurt by what happened and how their relationship and partnership ended, which was basically his decision and his choice, and he left it all in one little note for her. I think she felt that their relationship was much deeper than that, and that he was dismissive in the way that he handled that.

IVIE: How would you define the relationship between Joan and Sherlock?

LIU: I think that it’s a really positive and good relationship, overall. They really have a good chemistry together, work really hard together, and understand each other. They acknowledge each other and respect each other, which is a really important way to have a friendship. And they can learn from each other, you know? She’s very curious about him and I think he sees that she’s a very smart person—that’s vital for him in having respect for someone, having them be intelligent and thinking for themselves.

IVIE: Do you see any of Joan in yourself?

LIU: I do to a certain degree. She’s a lot more measured and patient, for sure. She’s a very curious person, which I think I am, and I think she isn’t afraid of change. She was a doctor, and then became a sober companion, and then jumped off and became a detective. I think sometimes it’s good to make big leaps.

IVIE: You’ve probably been asked this question many times, but do you think a romance between Joan and Sherlock could ever fittingly happen?

LIU: It’s a question that’s often asked and I think it’s really up to the executives. Rob Doherty, the creator [of Elementary] really feels incredibly strongly about keeping their relationship platonic. He has already taken great strides to keep the relationship as clean as possible according to the literature, but he has also changed so much of it by changing the gender of Watson. To have them have a romantic involvement would turn the whole thing upside-down in a way that might really jump the line. [Doherty] felt really strongly about it and I think that’s the one thing he really wants to stay true to.

IVIE: I totally agree. Even on the BBC’s Sherlock, there are campaigns to get Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock and Martin Freeman’s Watson to become romantically involved. It’s like, enough already, no!

LIU: No way, that’s so weird! People do have that level of friendship oftentimes, but it doesn’t mean it’s physical. I think that everyone just assumes because there’s chemistry the next thing should be happening. I would vote “no” for a romance. I think for sure the creator would vote no on that, too.

IVIE: I’ve talked to both women and men who watch Elementary, and they all consistently mention how well dressed and fashionable Joan is. Do you collaborate with the wardrobe department on styling decisions at all?

LIU: That’s awesome. Yes, I collaborate with Rebecca [Hofherr], who’s the costume designer, who’s wonderful. She’s very easy to work with. One thing we try to maintain about Joan and her style is that she’s a bit wrinkled, you know what I mean? Sometimes it looks like things are really put together, but we always want to make sure things aren’t too tight and are comfortable, kind of like she throws things together. We don’t want it to seem so business-y, so we go away from suits. Chic, but not corporate. Also just to make her seem like her outfits aren’t so put-together all the time. But I’m glad that people really seem to like it, it’s a relief! We don’t splurge a lot on the show, we try to do cheaper things, like things Joan would wear a lot. She wears the same white jacket and shoes frequently.

IVIE: Will we be seeing more of the infamous Clyde the Turtle in the upcoming season?

LIU: Clyde will indeed be in it again. We have to share custody of Clyde.

IVIE: Is it true that Clyde is actually two tortoises? Pulling a Mary Kate and Ashley in Full House on us?

LIU: Yes. It’s just like having twins on a show. Just in case one is crying and screaming and passed out or something.

IVIE: You made your directorial debut for an episode of Elementary last season [“Paint It Black”]. Do you have plans to direct an episode again soon?

LIU: That was so exciting. I’ll be directing another episode again very shortly in December, so you’ll be seeing it in a month and a half.

IVIE: Where did your interest in directing come from?

LIU: I guess I was curious about it. Having been in this business for a while, you kind of see and get a glimpse of everything doing film and television. I think it seemed like a natural progression to go into directing, and I hope to explore more of it, because it’s very exciting and a really good way to collide all the things that you’ve known and experienced in the business and put them all into one.

IVIE: Is there an ideal guest star that you’d like to see on the show in the upcoming season?

LIU: I would love to see Mycroft come back. I really think there was a wonderful tension for Mycroft and Sherlock as well as the triangle that occurred when Joan became involved with him. There’s something very deep about that relationship, and I also think that Rhys Ifans is a fantastic actor. He commands the screen, but off-screen he’s incredibly lovely. A real treat to have on the show.

IVIE: I remember the first few episodes that I saw Rhys in, I was like, where have I seen this guy before? So I looked at his Wikipedia page and it became obvious: he was the crazy guy from Notting Hill!

LIU: Yes, the roommate! So good! Everything he does, he just kills it, no matter the role.

IVIE: And it’s always good to have some MI6 action on the show, which Mycroft provided. Some international flair.

LIU: [laughs] International flair, exactly, some added spice. Just throw some spy stuff in there to throw people off their game. You just don’t expect it, you know? It came out of nowhere.

IVIE: That whole three-episode arc at the end of the second season…

LIU: That was awesome. I was lucky enough to direct one of those episodes, which is more narrative in tone. It’s more fun in some ways, too.

IVIE: You’ve done a range of acting work for both television and film. Do you now find yourself preferring one to the other?

LIU: I love both of them equally. The lack of predictability with television is something that’s constantly changing what your perception of who you think your character is. Suddenly I have a father that’s schizophrenic, or I discovered something else, or I have a relationship with Mycroft. The things that pop up and change the game for you and always keep you on your toes. The wonderful thing about film is that you have something that has a beginning, middle, and end, and you have a concrete amount of time to shoot it. And the process of that can be longer, like editing and advertising and testing the movie, so it’s very different. Television you just continue going, no matter what’s happening outside of your world. You get lost in that vortex a little bit.

IVIE: It’s interesting that America is now embracing the “mini-series” format that has already been so heavily utilized overseas, where there are a set amount of short episodes, and that’s it. In a way, it’s kind of like a cinematic experience.

LIU: I like that, too. It allows you to have a freedom of creativity and at the same time you don’t feel like you have to be contracted to something for that long; you’re really working on a piece of art. And then you’re done and you move on, or it comes back, like Downton Abbey. You don’t know. Those things become little masterpieces. The thing about television is that you see a range of actors now that you may not have seen five years ago even, 10 years ago absolutely not, and I think now there’s no wrong about doing television. There’s no definitive category for what kind of department you fall into anymore.

IVIE: What’s a fun, secret fact about your costar Jonny Lee Miller?

LIU: A fun fact about Jonny Lee Miller is that he oftentimes does handstands on a wall before he does a take, sometimes with pushups, to get blood to his brain and get him geared up for a long monologue that he may have. He stays there, hangs a little bit, and then turns around and does the scene. Most of the time in the brownstone more than anywhere else. He’s in full costume and everything. That’s trivia!

IVIE: I wish I could do wall-handstands by myself.

LIU: Oh my god, I need someone to push my legs up and then hold me there. I’m a cheat!

ELEMENTARY PREMIERES THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30 ON CBS.

[david-tennant-in-chairs]

Good morning, sunshine!

There are few things sexier than a gentleman unraveled

[gaiacostella]

Traveling Around The World Is One Of Life's Most Rewarding Experiences

Traveling around the world and visiting different states may be among the most rewarding things someone can do in life. A tremendous amount of excitement and pleasure can be obtained by travel to a remote nation.

Getting on a plane and flying a few hours to another continent can be an experience in itself! Maybe you wish to discover the scenery of a foreign land; a train journey would make it possible for you to find a stunning view of the local landscape and town. It is also possible to travel by boat, which is equally magnificent if not even more so. Imagining boarding a boat by sea which will sail through the vent of a significant metropolis passing by historic landmarks.

Exposing yourself to new cultures and people is such an enriching experience. Assimilating with the natives of a foreign land and studying their customs and traditions will expose you to intriguing ideals and expand your horizons. You can occupy a new language, eat delicious cuisine that you never knew existed and immerse yourself into the culture.

Traveling overseas and experiencing the wonders of the world can teach you more than what you could ever read from a book, but much more so, it can teach you about yourself. To have the ability to step foot on the soil of each continent is really a special achievement that few can claim the rights to. Being able to talk about your adventures with your family and friends recounting all your journeys is among life's most gratifying and priceless feelings.

Travelling Around the World and Back Again - A List of Places to Revisit

I'm one of the lucky ones. I've already been around the world and while I did not quite manage it in 80 days such as Phileas Fogg, I did manage to spend five months with my beloved hubby visiting amazing states, meeting new friends, trying new foods, and sampling lots of fresh wines, so all in all it was quite a trip!

Travelling around the world has never been easier than it is now. A RTW flight ticket may cost as little as 900, and based on the degree of accommodation you choose, you can make your way around the planet for less than you may think. We, on the other hand, blew our budget entirely, but the memories of the four month trip doing everything and nothing, is worth more than any amount of"printed paper" as my other half calls dinero, and I would not hesitate in packing my bag and doing it all again tomorrow.

Our round the world flight ticket comprised the following flights: London - Hong Kong - Macau - Bangkok - Singapore - Perth - Sydney - Christchurch - Auckland - Fiji - Los Angles - London, and apart from the odd boat ride or short flight, we travelled across Thailand and Malaysia over property.

Thailand has its own highs and lows (like most countries) and while I possibly would not rush back to Bangkok, Phuket or Koi Samui, I'd certainly love to revisit the charming city of Chiang Mai in the north.

We seemed to consume our way through Malaysia! Delicious food on every corner, together with friendly locals and tropical warmth, made this one of our favorite Asian destinations. Penang, the Cameron Highlands and Kuala Lumpur are on the'revisit' list.

Singapore is Singapore, and as one of the cleanest, safest, friendliest nations in Asia, I can definitely see myself arriving one day... Orchard road is still calling!

Our second destination - Australia, took us into the magnificent west coast of Perth and the Coral Coast. We spent weeks finding new beaches, visiting wineries and counting Kangaroos - before heading off to discover the rest of the nation. Stopping off in places like Melbourne, Sydney, Cairns, and the Whitsunday's across the way, our seven-week remain in Australia was extremely costly, but very worth it, and if I ever win the lottery - I will return!

New Zealand is a really special place and the moment we landed in Christchurch we felt at home. Combining beautiful scenery with terrific people, and delicious fish with excellent wines, New Zealand has it all, and yes, it's already on the revisit list.

Next stop - Fiji! As I have written in previous blogs, I never dreamed I'd get to see the Fiji Islands, but see them - and they're more amazing that you could ever imagine. Waking up to the sounds of gentle waves, walking along the white sandy beaches, and snorkelling with reef sharks... I can not wait to return!

Flying over the Pacific Ocean is a strange experience. With the changing time zones, you actually arrive until you've taken off! From Fiji we headed around to Los Angeles in the good old US of A, and after a few days in Cali, we jumped onto a cruise boat.

Following a week cruising across the Mexican Riviera, we headed off to Las Vegas for our final week of insanity before return home and back to reality. We make almost an yearly pilgrimage to Vegas, so that's definitely on the revisit list (oh yes, and so is Mexico!) .

Two or three year previous to our round the world tour we spent 10 weeks traveling South America, and lived nearly two years in South Africa, so we've seen enormous amounts of this gorgeous world, but now I find my'revisit' list is nearly as long as my'to see' list.

Well, I'm not quite 40 yet, and they say that is when life actually starts, so perhaps this was only a practice run? Around the World and back again - I suppose I'd better get on with it!

Wendy Kaufmann is the owner of Equatours Limited. A family owned and family run business specialising in unique travel experiences to nations under the equator.

Fully bonded tour operator, our packages are inclusive of all travel arrangements, accommodation, insurance and a personal travel guide is with you every step along the way to be certain that your trip with us is a vacation of a lifetime.

[ohboywonder]

Suddenly There - A Narnia Fanfiction

Chapter Seven: Lessons 

words: 2503 | AO3 warnings: none

Content: Suddenly Joyce stumbles into Narnia. Meeting the four Pevensies, she gets taken in and care of. A tension builds up between her and Edmund, although Joyce is clueless that he himself is a King, too. Peter though seems interested in her too and just as Lucy and Susan found out that there’s no way back to England, an attack puts Joyce to the test and she has to proof that Asland picked out the right person to bring back peace to Narnia.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - ...

“I heard a rumour!”, a voice sang right into my ear while I was sitting at the table in the dining hall. I was having a lonely breakfast because I had gotten up quite late. Nightmares and bad dreams of home had kept me up all night and I was not in the best mood. Phileas had a night shift and when I had left my room he had already been gone.

But on the other hand – I had made my way to the hall by myself without asking anyone for directions. It had taken me a while, but I’d made it.

As I now looked up, Lucy stood next to me. She was wearing a cream-coloured dress with dark red laced rims and elaborate embroidery. No matter what she wore, it always looked stunning on her.

“Good morning to you too.”, I said and smiled back. It was hard to stay grumpy when Lucy smiled at one like she did now.

“I’m going to be your teacher!”, she screeched and sat down next to me. “Isn’t this exciting?”

“What will you teach me?”, I asked, eyebrows raised, and took the stiff napkin in my hands to clean them of any remaining breadcrumbs. Breakfast had been toast and porridge today, along with fruits and fresh milk. It was delicious, but it also reminded me of home. I started to wonder whether the fauns working in the kitchens were making an effort to cook British dishes to make the Royals feel at home. And then I asked myself if they felt the way I did and if it maybe hurt them more than it helped them.

“Manners!”, she said and for a second I wondered whether I had done anything wrong. Then I realised it was her subjects and I started to laugh, which made Lucy pout.

“Sorry”, I wheezed, trying d to get my breathing under control again. “I… it’s just so funny to imagine you teaching me manners when I thought you were the funniest of your siblings.”

“All right, I get your point.”, Lucy said and played with a curl of her brown hair. “But it’s not really hard. There are just some general rules on how you’re supposed to sit, stand and walk, who you’re allowed to talk to and who needs to talk to you first, where in a room you can stand and where you’re not supposed to be… All these small things and then we’ll go into behaviour at the banquet, which cutlery is used for which meal and-”

“Lucy”, I interrupted her. “Peter said I had four weeks to learn all of this. Not four years!”

That made her laugh. “You’ll be fine. I doubt anyone will pay much attention to you anyways.”

“Oy, that was rude!”, I said and poked her in her side, which made her giggle.

“Sorry, but, hey, stop it!”, she laughed and tickled me. Ten minutes later we were breathing heavily and my stomach hurt from laughing so hard. “I just meant”, Lucy tried again, “that there are other things that people will pay attention to, rather than someone they’ve never seen maybe using the wrong fork. But we’ll avoid this through practice. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t”, I said honestly. “With you as my teacher, everyone will notice how incredibly good I am with a fork.”

This made her laugh again.

Three hours later I had mastered the perfect curtsy. Also, I had learned how to address Lucy and her siblings in the correct way. My head was buzzing from the information that it had to take in. But it seemed like I was about to be rescued from my lesson.

Edmund knocked on the door and entered my chamber. The faun replacing Phileas, an older faun with dark curls and big horns, glanced into the room to check whether everything was all right and regained his posture in front of my door again, as Edmund closed the door behind him.

“Lu, you’re going to be late.”, he said and Lucy looked up at the grandfather clock in the corner of my room. This was followed by a heavy sigh. She put the books aside and rose to her feet, straightening out her skirt and smiled at me before turning towards Edmund.

“I nearly forgot because this was so much fun. Thanks for reminding me, Ed!” And with that she rushed through the door Edmund had just closed.

“Late for what?”, I asked and slowly turned around. The book, that I had been balancing on my head for the past ten minutes, fell down. Lucy had had a lot of criticism for my posture and wanted to fix it before, and I quote, “anyone would have to see you ruining a really beautiful dress with the way you stand”. This had been followed by the explanation that the dresses we wore every day, which I found insanely stunning already, were apparently only the ‘normal’ dresses. The extraordinary ones were reserved for balls, banquets and coronations. When these were the normal ones, I didn’t know whether I would be able to stand the beauty of the others. Edmund smiled at me, before he got on one knee to help me pick up all the books.

“She always has a court day”, he now answered my previous question while handing me a book, “where she’ll allow her subjects to come forth and ask for help or tell her about problems. If she can, she figures something out to help them. It’s always around this time a week.”

He handed me back my book and our fingers touched. This moment it was hard for me to breathe because my heart just skipped a beat. “Thanks.”, I stammered. For a moment it was quiet between us. “Well…”, I said, trying to say something instead of just staring at Edmund, “I guess that marks the end of my lessons for today?”

A grin spread out over his cheeks. “Oh, absolutely not. I’m here to pick you up for something else.”, he said and then bowed a little. “If I may, of course.”

A little surprised, I nodded. My heart was still fluttering, so my steps, when I followed him, where a little unsure. “More lessons?”, I asked while he held the door open for me. We passed the dark-haired faun and made our way through the corridors.

“Curiosity killed the cat, that was the saying, right?”, he asked me and I nodded surprised. I could imagine that sayings like these would slip your mind if not often used, but he remembered it. Even after ten years.

My thoughts pondered over which sayings he had kept after all this time as well and so I did not notice where we were going. “Where...?”, I started, but then we walked around a corner and I recognised the path from our earlier walk. “The… training grounds?”, I asked and looked through one of the high windows.

“Exactly. I wanted to show you something before we start your lesson. It’s because we still have some time before we can start.”, he said, his hands crossed behind his back, as usual.

“What’s this lesson on, out here?”, I wondered, as we stood on the grass again. Targets were erected, at least 100 yards away from where we stood, the grass was trimmed. Multiple weapons were on display. Nothing had changed. I could feel my spirits rise.

“Do you want to teach me how to handle bow and arrow? Or a crossbow?”, I asked excitedly but Edmund shook his head, a light smile still on his lips.

“Not yet. I think we can do that once you’ve mastered what I am actually supposed to teach you. But for now, just follow me.”

“You speak in riddles…”, I mumbled exhausted and looked around. “Then what are you supposed to teach me out here?”

“Not out here. But later I’m supposed to teach you how to dance.”, he said and stopped. “But since the musicians are still practicing, we can’t dance yet. And since the weather is beautiful, I wanted to show you something. A place that is very special to me.”

And with that he continued to walk over the soft grass towards where the world seemed to end, approaching the cliff. My mouth still hung open. I was supposed to dance?

With Edmund?

Oh, how delightful. This would not make my life any easier…

I sighed and followed him, my thoughts spiralling around the dance lessons that would inevitably follow. The closer I got, the more I could hear the ocean again. And then I saw that the meadow ended and steep ledge lead down right to the water. “Come on”, he said and waved me to follow him. Nearly hidden behind rocks and grass was a path. When we were here the first time I hadn’t even noticed.

“Wow”, I whispered and stepped closer to the edge. I then followed Edmund. The path led to a little cave just below the cliff. He stood close to the edge, pointing at something in the water.

Even without having to focus on anything Edmund wanted to show me, this sight was incredible. The cave was a little hole, completely hidden away from sight. If anyone would stand on the edge, they would not see if people would hide down here. Roots from the grass and bushes upwards were dangling from the top of the cave and on the rocky ground the feet could get a good grip.

“Can you see them?”, Edmund suddenly asked me and I looked up at him. He smiled and his hand pointed towards the water. I stepped a little closer. My gaze wandered over the waves, whose white crestwaves sparkled in the sun, following where Edmund was pointing. At first I couldn’t see anything other than the ocean and although it looked nothing like the stormy, grey waves of home, my heart grew heavy. The wind blew away my blond hair and I felt my eyes itching with tears.

“Mom and I always went to the sea during the summer.”, I suddenly said. Although this looked nothing like what I was used to, memories started to pull me back in. “We would collect the nicest pebbles and stones and tried to… to stack them as high as we could. Then… then the war came.”

I felt a tear running down my cheek and suddenly Edmund’s hand touched my shoulder and he squeezed it. “I can imagine. But look closer.”, he said and suddenly I spotted them.

I squinted a little and then I could see the bodies, the tails and the glistening hair, all pellucid. “Are those mermaids?”, I asked, absolutely taken aback.

“Naiads. Just like the Dryads, but… in the water.”, he said cleverly and smiled. “I like them. They remind me of home. My parents always took us to the sea, too.” His expression grew sadder, but he put on a brave smile.

“Do you ever get used to this? Being away without the possibility to get back?”, I asked, being reminded of my earlier thoughts.

“Not really”, he mumbled. The wind blew through his hair as well and I could see a few freckles on his nose and forehead.

“I’m sorry”, I said quietly. “It must be weird to talk to someone like me, being suddenly here and maybe, hopefully, going back when you got used to living here now.”

He chuckled lightly, facing the sea and crossing his hands behind his back again. “You never get accustomed to it, not really. Not me.”

I really wanted to say something. His face grew sadder again and his thoughts seemed to wander off. Then his expression grew grave and he turned around, waving me with him. He still seemed a little upset. “How good are you at horseback riding?”, he asked suddenly, maybe trying to change the topic, maybe trying to kill some more time, and with that, the peak into the life of the other was ended.

I got the answer to that question an hour later and it was: not good.

Horses are very majestic creatures. That’s at least what I always thought of them. They’re huge and fast and beautiful, but riding a horse is something entirely different. Especially if you’re supposed to ride on a sidesaddle – something I’d never done before. There were a million things one needed to concentrate on. The reins, your back, your feet, your hips, the horse’s step, the surroundings, yours arms and your fingers. Also, one should not constantly look down.

Edmund told me all these things, repeatedly. In a calm and slightly amused manner.

We were on the training grounds again, closer to the castle now. A couple of fauns had brought Edmund’s horse and one for me, saddled and ready. Edmund though had refused to ride himself, but he was holding the lunge line, and helped me with additional information and comments.

“Oh shit”, I cursed as I tried to brush a strand of my hair out of my eyes and hit myself in the face with the reins. That made Edmund laugh.

“Sorry? I should not swear so much.”

“What? No, that’s great. It’s so natural. It does not seem like you’re wearing a mask or put up a show. You’re simply yourself.”

“Yeah, what about it?”, I asked, sitting up straight again and monitoring the horse from above, trying to gain back my posture.

“It’s so unusual around here.”

When I dared to look away from my horse, I saw Edmund smiling at me. I felt my stomach drop a little, but it could as well have been the horse’s fault, because it used this moment of inattention bolted forwards and went into trot and then galloped straight forward. Since Edmund and I hadn’t discussed what to do in a situation similar to this, I shrieked and pulled the reins closer to my body, but not upwards. I froze and pressed my leg against the horse and leaned in the opposite direction, trying to not fall off.

“It’s all right”, I heard Edmund’s voice and suddenly his hand pulled on my reins, took them and then the horse… stopped. He was on his own horse, I can’t remember how he did it – how he got up there so fast, but the horses now stood next to each other and he looked at me, concerned.

“Are you all right?”

“I wish… shit, that was scary!”

And then, he giggled. “You’re right. Let’s get you off there now. We may try dancing now, what do you say?”

“Anything but this, please?”, I said and still could feel my heart beating in my throat.

He slid of his horse and held a hand out to me, a gentle smile on his lips, and when my hand touched his and our eyes met, I couldn’t help but feel a little warmer, a little safer, a little more like being in Narnia was not that bad after all.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

I don’t have a specific prompt in mind but do you have any ideas for Ten/Fourteen and Phileas meeting each other? Chaos travelers dynamic! Wahoo!

Have I ever mentioned that I actually wanted to write a short fic where Phileas and friends run into the Doctor, Martha, and Donna for a little adventure?

Well, this isn't the same thing, but I think this might be a fun idea to work with!

Let's go with Fourteen for this, since I like making content for them. (I don't remember the exact years that Madam Vastra lived in Victorian London, but I'm not here for accuracy, Fourteen is gonna meet a man who is technically a book character).

On with the fic!

--

The Doctor smiled as they passed through the streets of Victorian London. Yes, they'd been here so many times over the years, but it was always nice to stop by for a visit. They did have friends who lived in this era after all.

They had heard the most curious news from Madam Vastra when they had come over for a long overdue tea party between them and their friends. She had told him about a man who has been considered the first Englishman to travel the world in eighty days.

It had taken the Doctor a moment to register who that was, and they had gotten excited. They'd never been able to catch any of the exciting trip of Phileas Fogg before! They always seemed to land at the wrong time, just missing him and his friends in their bigger destination spots.

They wondered if maybe he was still here in London, that there was a chance that they could catch him. The Doctor knew that not too long after his return to London, Fogg and his friends had taken off to find an ancient sea creature.

The Doctor walked about, trying to find the typical locations that Phileas Fogg frequented and soon gave up. They needed a break, maybe a drink? It was a bit chilly, a nice cuppa would do! And when was the last time they'd stopped in Victorian tea house, or even a coffee house?

Hmmm... had it been with Yaz? They couldn't remember, but they found themself entered a coffee house he found just a moment later and glanced about. It wasn't too busy here, seeing as it was the late afternoon.

However, someone caught his eye.

Seated at a table by himself, looking over a newspaper with a cup of tea before him, along with a small tray with all manner of things to prepare said cup, was the Doctor.

Well.

No.

Not the Doctor, but someone who looked just like him. Madam Vastra had smiled and made a comment that Fogg was a man with a face that the Doctor would recognize the moment they spotted it. She wasn't wrong.

Grinning, the Doctor approached. "Is this seat taken?"

Fogg glanced up, opening his mouth to say something, but stopped and stared instead. The Doctor's grin grew as they winked. "Like lookin' in a mirror, isn't it?"

"I... is this a trick?" Fogg asked, nervous, but strangely fascinated.

"No trick, just the universe having a laugh, I suppose." They scratched the back of their head, ah, an old habit from their previous time with this face. "Are you Phileas Fogg?"

Fogg nodded, clearing his throat. "Yes, yes I am. I am to guess you've heard of me from recent exploits?"

"Oh, yes!" The Doctor plopped down in the chair across the table. "You're amazing! The first human to fly over the Alps! You were able to get a train to cross over a broken bridge that was practically being held up by the equivalent of paperclips and rubber bands! And the stuff you did in India and America? Amazing!"

"Uh, thank you?" Fogg smiled awkwardly, clearly not used to so much attention and praise all at once.

"You're welcome." They held out a hand. "I'm the Doctor, by the way."

The hand was taken for a very quick shake and Phileas tilted his head. "The Doctor?"

"Yeah, that's my name."

"I feel as if I've... heard the name before? It's a title, is it not?"

The Doctor grinned. "Yeah, in a way."

"How curious. Ah, any particular reason as to why you have decided to talk to me? Not that I'm trying to send you off, but..."

"Oh, yes! Hold on a mo', I completely forgot!" The Doctor dug into their coat pocket, trying to locate the proper item. They pulled out a few odds and ends, setting them on the table, much of Fogg's confusion and amusement as the strange collection.

"Found it!" The Doctor smiled, holding up a device, then held it out to Fogg. It was small, square, metallic and plastic. "I heard rumors that you're going to go on a sea voyage, to look for a mysterious beast of legend. Well, as someone with a lot of experience with such things, use this."

Fogg took it, looking it over with interest. "What is it?" He had a look in his eyes that screamed he wanted to tinker with it. The Doctor could apperciate that.

"It's a device that goes 'ding' when it is within a hundred meters of a massive, aquatic life form and the dings get louder and faster the closer you are to it. It can also tune a piano and a harpsichord."

They got a strange look from Fogg for that. "Thank you? But why would you have such a device?"

"Because." The Doctor reasoned, grinning. "And I think you can get a better use out of it than me, I can't wait to read about what happens!" He stood up from the table. "Best of luck, Phileas Fogg."

"Oh, uh, same to you? Not sure why I said that, but I feel like you're about to embark on your own journey."

The Doctor's smile faltered a little, but they chuckled, shoving their hands in their pockets. "I get the feeling that you're right about that."

[the-stolen-century]

OH MY GOD YES. These are exactly the things that I loved most about the show! If you have anything else to say about the show, I would love to read it! We're reblogging all meta posts (and all other fanwork) to @atwi80d , so if you write anything, maybe message me to make sure I don't miss it? ^^ And now I'll reply to what you actually said (Episode 8 spoilers under cut)!

Phileas taking on the role of serving both of them! Yes! Exactly! Him pouring the drinks mirrors the first shot in which we see Passepartout in Episode 1! Phileas literally takes on his role! And did you notice that Abigail sat in her father's armchair (because she no longer feels subordinate to him, she has become her own woman) and Passepartout in Bellamy's? They symbolically took over the roles of Phileas' two closest friends in his life and in his heart! And then they recreate the newspaper-reading scene from Ep 1, but because they are better friends, it's supportive, friendly banter instead of jeering!

And yes, I loved the fact that he uses their first names - and earlier in the episode, Passepartout calls him "Phileas" and Abigail "Abigail", too! How good is that! Can't wait for Abigail to switch to first-name basis too in Season 2!

And when he went down on one knee I almost died! I didnt even think about the shorthand, I was just charmed by the courtly kneel! The poses gave me strong and unexpected "queen and knight" vibes, and I'm not sure if I'm reading the image correctly.

And then, the men who used to keep Abigail out of the club are themselves barred from entering it! But the heroes know they can only keep them out temporarily - and Passepartout, the one who is the most cognizant of just how temporarily all good things are and just how hard social bariers are to break down, even reverts back to saying "Monsieur". So the moment they find the opportunity to do so (by finding the adventure in the paper), they escape! From the hierarchical, stratified world of the club they somehow escape onto the flat ground of the real world, into freedom and unconstrained equality. God I love it so much! :D

I just finished mainlining Around the World in 80 Days and ngl, the final 10 minutes made me flappy-hand and squeak.

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[passportsymphony]

7 deadly sins of travel and how to avoid them

Travelling can be a great teacher. It’s filled with both, good and evil. In fact, so much, that I firmly believe it could inspire Dante Alighieri to write another part of his ‘Divine comedy‘.Chances are: if you travelled a lot you probably fell a victim to at least one of the seven deadly sins of travel. If you haven’t travelled that much, use these warnings and follow the redemption suggestions. Do you commit these 7 deadly sins while travelling?

PRIDE

I get it. You travelled a lot. You’re proud of it. However, no one likes the arrogant traveller. And no, this isn’t about the stubborn husband refusing to ask for directions. The proud traveller stores his pride in stereotypes and prejudice about a country. There’s nothing that can ruin your trip like a closed mind. For example, if you go to India with a closed mind, you will only see smelly streets, garbage, and cows on the street. If you open your mind, you will be rewarded with a life-changing experience.

How to fight it The best cure for pride is humidity. Show respect for the people around you and their culture. You don’t have to agree with it. You don’t have to accept it. Just RESPECT it. The whole point of travelling is to broaden your horizons. And teach you things you can’t learn back home. Not to brag to your friends about the places you visited.

ENVY

It’s in our nature to want to be better than everyone else. But competing with other travellers and comparing your journey with theirs might just make you feel miserable and ruin your trip. You will see people that visited more places than you. You will see people that stayed in one place longer and were there when the beach weather was perfect. They saw lions on their safari, while all you saw was a peaceful herd of gazelle. They’ve seen the craziest parties on that island, while you’re stuck there in the offseason.

How to fight it Things like this will always happen. There will always be people that seen more and experienced more than you. I know it’s really difficult when someone says: ‘Oh man, you should have been here last week’. The beach weather was perfect and we partied with Victoria’s Secret models… But instead of getting envious, talk to them and use their knowledge. They can probably give you a lot of useful tips about your future trip. The best restaurants, the best bars, the cheapest way to go. Rise above your envy and you might even make some new friends.

WRATH

You can’t plan every detail when you’re travelling. This is one of the main reasons for the ‘travel wrath’. Many people think they can squeeze in a few more activities in your trip. But you’re not a character in Gilles Verne’s ‘Around the World in 8 days’. Not everything is up to you. On the road, there are hundreds of things you can’t control. Anything can go wrong. You’re sitting next to a huge person on the flight. Or god forbid, a crying baby! Your hiking trip is spoiled by rain and you’re only there for a couple of days. All the people on the cruise get food poisoning. You’re charged ‘the tourist price’ for something that’s clearly not worth it. People look at you as a walking $100 bill. Things like these can happen all the time.

How to fight it? This one is a cliche but it’s true. The best way to fight wrath is with patience. Understand that you’re away from your home and things work differently here. But, if wrath gets a hold of you, it’s hard to get rid of it. And you only have a limited time to be in this place. Maybe you’ll never get the chance to see it again. What I suggest is to try and channelize your negative energy in another direction. Go for a run, get drunk, go karaoke or dancing, meet some local girls/guys. And don’t forget, most people stay in the same corner of the world for most of their lives. You’re lucky to have the chance to travel. So make the most out of it.

SLOTH

Now, you might think: Lying down on the beach all day is the perfect vacation. How is this possibly a sin? The sin is in the extremes. You would be surprised at the number of people I met that never used to leave their hotel/resort and the pool. Needless to say, if you do this, you are missing out on a potentially amazing experience. I know that if you’re used to expensive things and are staying in a 5-star hotel you’d surely be tempted to go out in the dirty streets. However, you can find 5-star hotels everywhere. What you can’t find is the ultimate local experience. The way these people live. The way they do things. I know you don’t think much of those things, but trust me, experiencing them can be a great life teacher.

How to fight it? There really isn’t a way to fight it if sloth is part of your personality. If you don’t want to explore the place, there’s little to be done there. I can only think of a couple of things. Find a travel buddy that’s much more enthusiastic and will literally force you to join him/her on an adventure. Alternatively, try to combine your laziness with local activities (Ex. go for a local-style massage).

GLUTTONY

A jack of all things is a master of nothing. I mean, sure travelling is about letting your hair down. But that doesn’ mean you should be extreme about it. Maybe you’ll love the local food. In fact, so much that you can’t stop eating. It won’t help if the serving dishes are small. And it’s not just about food. The more things you put on your agenda, the less time you will have to spend actually enjoying them. Besides, how much fan can you really have if you’re out running from one place to the next the whole day? Or overstuff yourself with food and can’t move away from your hotel bed?

How to fight it? The best way to fight gluttony is with temperance: take out a few things off the list. Do the things you feel would bring you the most joy. Don’t listen to the tour guides. You don’t have to experience everything in a short frame. You will be just too exhausted to really experience and enjoy the things that you are doing.

GREED

There are a lot of people out there that want to travel only for the sake of being able to say that they visited every country in the world. And these people want to do everything in a rush. Just like in Gilles Verne’s ‘Around the world in 80 days’. But your life isn’t a novel. And you’re not trying to prove the Reform club that that’s possible. Are you? What I’m trying to say is you can’t fully experience everything on the fly. Sure, Phileas Fogg had a lot of adventures. But he was a fictional novel character. If you’re trying to rush through everything, oftentimes you will miss out on some amazing things which are in front of your nose. Most of the greedy travellers probably visited more than 60 countries. But they didn’t travel around their country much…

How to fight it? Being greedy leads to wrath most of the time. Because things will almost never work out according to your plan. Because you’re trying to do too much with too less. There’s nothing much that I can say to help greedy travellers. Except to recommend them to go for bus tours. That’s the best way to cover a lot in a short timeframe.

LUST

There are few different types of lust you will encounter while travelling. And most of the time, lust isn’t bad. But there are some situations in which you shouldn’t pursue it. Don’t let your lust make you take out your frustration on someone that doesn’t deserve it. Like the airline employees at the counter when a flight is delayed or you’re waiting in a long queue and you’re in a rush. Or the flight attendant when you’re sitting next to a crying toddler. The bus driver that keeps making stops and you’re running on a tight schedule. Even though this one might be hard. Another common one is snapping at locals greeting you on the street just because you’ve fallen a victim of a scan before that begun in a similar way.

How to fight it? Like I said, lust can be positive at times. If you use your lust as a driver, it can lead you to some amazing experiences. No doubt about it. But don’t let your lust get the better of you when things aren’t going as planned. Go back to the Pride section. Read the caps-locked word: Respect. All human beings deserve that. Think about that before you snap at someone that doesn’t deserve it. And think how would you feel if the roles were reversed.

Well, there you go: those were the seven deadly sins of travel. Maybe they’re not as notorious as the one in Dante’s Divine comedy but can certainly help with your future adventures. Which one of these is the hardest one to overcome? Let me know what you think.

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[readbookywooks]

In which a conversation takes place which seems likely to cost Phileas Fogg dear

Phileas Fogg, having shut the door of his house at half-past eleven, and having put his right foot before his left five hundred and seventy-five times, and his left foot before his right five hundred and seventy-six times, reached the Reform Club, an imposing edifice in Pall Mall, which could not have cost less than three millions. He repaired at once to the dining-room, the nine windows of which open upon a tasteful garden, where the trees were already gilded with an autumn colouring; and took his place at the habitual table, the cover of which had already been laid for him. His breakfast consisted of a side-dish, a broiled fish with Reading sauce, a scarlet slice of roast beef garnished with mushrooms, a rhubarb and gooseberry tart, and a morsel of Cheshire cheese, the whole being washed down with several cups of tea, for which the Reform is famous. He rose at thirteen minutes to one, and directed his steps towards the large hall, a sumptuous apartment adorned with lavishly-framed paintings. A flunkey handed him an uncut Times, which he proceeded to cut with a skill which betrayed familiarity with this delicate operation. The perusal of this paper absorbed Phileas Fogg until a quarter before four, whilst the Standard, his next task, occupied him till the dinner hour. Dinner passed as breakfast had done, and Mr. Fogg re-appeared in the reading-room and sat down to the Pall Mall at twenty minutes before six. Half an hour later several members of the Reform came in and drew up to the fireplace, where a coal fire was steadily burning. They were Mr. Fogg's usual partners at whist: Andrew Stuart, an engineer; John Sullivan and Samuel Fallentin, bankers; Thomas Flanagan, a brewer; and Gauthier Ralph, one of the Directors of the Bank of England-- all rich and highly respectable personages, even in a club which comprises the princes of English trade and finance.

"Well, Ralph," said Thomas Flanagan, "what about that robbery?"

"Oh," replied Stuart, "the Bank will lose the money."

"On the contrary," broke in Ralph, "I hope we may put our hands on the robber. Skilful detectives have been sent to all the principal ports of America and the Continent, and he'll be a clever fellow if he slips through their fingers."

"But have you got the robber's description?" asked Stuart.

"In the first place, he is no robber at all," returned Ralph, positively.

"What! a fellow who makes off with fifty-five thousand pounds, no robber?"

"No."

"Perhaps he's a manufacturer, then."

"The Daily Telegraph says that he is a gentleman."

It was Phileas Fogg, whose head now emerged from behind his newspapers, who made this remark. He bowed to his friends, and entered into the conversation. The affair which formed its subject, and which was town talk, had occurred three days before at the Bank of England. A package of banknotes, to the value of fifty-five thousand pounds, had been taken from the principal cashier's table, that functionary being at the moment engaged in registering the receipt of three shillings and sixpence. Of course, he could not have his eyes everywhere. Let it be observed that the Bank of England reposes a touching confidence in the honesty of the public. There are neither guards nor gratings to protect its treasures; gold, silver, banknotes are freely exposed, at the mercy of the first comer. A keen observer of English customs relates that, being in one of the rooms of the Bank one day, he had the curiosity to examine a gold ingot weighing some seven or eight pounds. He took it up, scrutinised it, passed it to his neighbour, he to the next man, and so on until the ingot, going from hand to hand, was transferred to the end of a dark entry; nor did it return to its place for half an hour. Meanwhile, the cashier had not so much as raised his head. But in the present instance things had not gone so smoothly. The package of notes not being found when five o'clock sounded from the ponderous clock in the "drawing office," the amount was passed to the account of profit and loss. As soon as the robbery was discovered, picked detectives hastened off to Liverpool, Glasgow, Havre, Suez, Brindisi, New York, and other ports, inspired by the proffered reward of two thousand pounds, and five per cent. on the sum that might be recovered. Detectives were also charged with narrowly watching those who arrived at or left London by rail, and a judicial examination was at once entered upon.

There were real grounds for supposing, as the Daily Telegraph said, that the thief did not belong to a professional band. On the day of the robbery a well-dressed gentleman of polished manners, and with a well-to-do air, had been observed going to and fro in the paying room where the crime was committed. A description of him was easily procured and sent to the detectives; and some hopeful spirits, of whom Ralph was one, did not despair of his apprehension. The papers and clubs were full of the affair, and everywhere people were discussing the probabilities of a successful pursuit; and the Reform Club was especially agitated, several of its members being Bank officials.

Ralph would not concede that the work of the detectives was likely to be in vain, for he thought that the prize offered would greatly stimulate their zeal and activity. But Stuart was far from sharing this confidence; and, as they placed themselves at the whist-table, they continued to argue the matter. Stuart and Flanagan played together, while Phileas Fogg had Fallentin for his partner. As the game proceeded the conversation ceased, excepting between the rubbers, when it revived again.

"I maintain," said Stuart, "that the chances are in favour of the thief, who must be a shrewd fellow."

"Well, but where can he fly to?" asked Ralph. "No country is safe for him."

"Pshaw!"

"Where could he go, then?"

"Oh, I don't know that. The world is big enough."

"It was once," said Phileas Fogg, in a low tone. "Cut, sir," he added, handing the cards to Thomas Flanagan.

The discussion fell during the rubber, after which Stuart took up its thread.

"What do you mean by `once'? Has the world grown smaller?"

"Certainly," returned Ralph. "I agree with Mr. Fogg. The world has grown smaller, since a man can now go round it ten times more quickly than a hundred years ago. And that is why the search for this thief will be more likely to succeed."

"And also why the thief can get away more easily."

"Be so good as to play, Mr. Stuart," said Phileas Fogg.

But the incredulous Stuart was not convinced, and when the hand was finished, said eagerly: "You have a strange way, Ralph, of proving that the world has grown smaller. So, because you can go round it in three months--"

"In eighty days," interrupted Phileas Fogg.

"That is true, gentlemen," added John Sullivan. "Only eighty days, now that the section between Rothal and Allahabad, on the Great Indian Peninsula Railway, has been opened. Here is the estimate made by the Daily Telegraph:

From London to Suez via Mont Cenis and Brindisi, by rail and steamboats ................. 7 days From Suez to Bombay, by steamer .................... 13 " From Bombay to Calcutta, by rail ................... 3 " From Calcutta to Hong Kong, by steamer ............. 13 " From Hong Kong to Yokohama (Japan), by steamer ..... 6 " From Yokohama to San Francisco, by steamer ......... 22 " From San Francisco to New York, by rail ............. 7 " From New York to London, by steamer and rail ........ 9 " ---- Total ............................................ 80 days."

"Yes, in eighty days!" exclaimed Stuart, who in his excitement made a false deal. "But that doesn't take into account bad weather, contrary winds, shipwrecks, railway accidents, and so on."

"All included," returned Phileas Fogg, continuing to play despite the discussion.

"But suppose the Hindoos or Indians pull up the rails," replied Stuart; "suppose they stop the trains, pillage the luggage-vans, and scalp the passengers!"

"All included," calmly retorted Fogg; adding, as he threw down the cards, "Two trumps."

Stuart, whose turn it was to deal, gathered them up, and went on: "You are right, theoretically, Mr. Fogg, but practically--"

"Practically also, Mr. Stuart."

"I'd like to see you do it in eighty days."

"It depends on you. Shall we go?"

"Heaven preserve me! But I would wager four thousand pounds that such a journey, made under these conditions, is impossible."

"Quite possible, on the contrary," returned Mr. Fogg.

"Well, make it, then!"

"The journey round the world in eighty days?"

"Yes."

"I should like nothing better."

"When?"

"At once. Only I warn you that I shall do it at your expense."

"It's absurd!" cried Stuart, who was beginning to be annoyed at the persistency of his friend. "Come, let's go on with the game."

"Deal over again, then," said Phileas Fogg. "There's a false deal."

Stuart took up the pack with a feverish hand; then suddenly put them down again.

"Well, Mr. Fogg," said he, "it shall be so: I will wager the four thousand on it."

"Calm yourself, my dear Stuart," said Fallentin. "It's only a joke."

"When I say I'll wager," returned Stuart, "I mean it." "All right," said Mr. Fogg; and, turning to the others, he continued: "I have a deposit of twenty thousand at Baring's which I will willingly risk upon it."

"Twenty thousand pounds!" cried Sullivan. "Twenty thousand pounds, which you would lose by a single accidental delay!"

"The unforeseen does not exist," quietly replied Phileas Fogg.

"But, Mr. Fogg, eighty days are only the estimate of the least possible time in which the journey can be made."

"A well-used minimum suffices for everything."

"But, in order not to exceed it, you must jump mathematically from the trains upon the steamers, and from the steamers upon the trains again."

"I will jump--mathematically."

"You are joking."

"A true Englishman doesn't joke when he is talking about so serious a thing as a wager," replied Phileas Fogg, solemnly. "I will bet twenty thousand pounds against anyone who wishes that I will make the tour of the world in eighty days or less; in nineteen hundred and twenty hours, or a hundred and fifteen thousand two hundred minutes. Do you accept?"

"We accept," replied Messrs. Stuart, Fallentin, Sullivan, Flanagan, and Ralph, after consulting each other.

"Good," said Mr. Fogg. "The train leaves for Dover at a quarter before nine. I will take it."

"This very evening?" asked Stuart.

"This very evening," returned Phileas Fogg. He took out and consulted a pocket almanac, and added, "As today is Wednesday, the 2nd of October, I shall be due in London in this very room of the Reform Club, on Saturday, the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine p.m.; or else the twenty thousand pounds, now deposited in my name at Baring's, will belong to you, in fact and in right, gentlemen. Here is a cheque for the amount."

A memorandum of the wager was at once drawn up and signed by the six parties, during which Phileas Fogg preserved a stoical composure. He certainly did not bet to win, and had only staked the twenty thousand pounds, half of his fortune, because he foresaw that he might have to expend the other half to carry out this difficult, not to say unattainable, project. As for his antagonists, they seemed much agitated; not so much by the value of their stake, as because they had some scruples about betting under conditions so difficult to their friend.

The clock struck seven, and the party offered to suspend the game so that Mr. Fogg might make his preparations for departure.

"I am quite ready now," was his tranquil response. "Diamonds are trumps: be so good as to play, gentlemen."