#the mummy is coming

[rantsintechnicolor]

the haunted mummy of perdeaux manor, episode 6

She turned her face north to find the source of a strange sound on the wind. George was making his way toward her. It had been his deep voice distorted by gusts and tumultuous ocean. She did not hope to like her brother’s new friend any better in this second encounter than she had during the first. She looked around for someone else he could be calling to, but they were the only two standing at the cliffs. Alone in the presence of a man was the situation teachers and family had warned her about ad nauseum since she her breasts began budding from her chest, which was consequently around the time she fell rather hard for her cousin Henry. As George approached, she felt mostly annoyance that he would put her in a situation where she would be scolded for enduring the company of a man, company she doubted she would enjoy. 

She turned her head to dab away her tears for Eva with the handkerchief tucked in her sleeve. As she turned back, she squared her shoulders and set her jaw to meet George. He had not yet changed out of his spattered riding clothes. He had replaced his top hat, which he touched in respectful greeting to her, and his curls were blowing around his temples ecstatically in the wind. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were again rosy with their exposure to the weather. He looked like a portrait by a master painter rather than a man of twenty-one. 

“Miss Perdeaux. Pardon my intrusion,” when he neared enough to be heard without yelling over the noise of the wind. His face wore an anxious expression.

She indicated it was no intrusion, because, while she did think he was intruding, it would be impertinent to admit so to a guest. He smiled tentatively, sensing she was being polite, but his green eyes sparkled in the last sunlight before the storm. 

“Your brother invited me to rest after showing me the house, but I wanted to catch the remainder of this beautiful day. What an exceedingly wild and artistic landscape here.” He gestured vaguely, his voice effusive.

She gave him a tight smile. He was clearly hoping she would continue his efforts at a conversation, but she was disinclined to gratify him. She felt confusion that he would seek her out for any conversation, expecting him very much in her brother’s camp-- and more than likely in his bed-- rather than bother to speak to her. 

“I’m very happy to see it,” George continued awkwardly. “Eerm.” He had more to say, but he seemed to be having trouble forming the words, and Rebecca made no effort to rescue him from his discomfort. His effort began to persuade her that his manner was very different from her brother’s other friends. Firstly, none of them cared to walk about the grounds when he brought them, preferring to ride horses, hit balls for sport, drink sherry, take snuff and--well, other things.

“It appears you are as fond of walking a countryside as I am.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we walk together?” She shouldn’t, but she would either be scolded for being rude or scolded for walking alone with a man, so she took his proffered arm to be polite and murmured her thanks. In that awkward moment the clouds covered the sun and Rebecca shivered. 

Though the weather was turning rapidly, he set a slow pace. She wished it could be faster so she could be out of the weather and escape him sooner. She wasn’t sure if she quite forgave him for the disgusted look he leveled at her when they were introduced, but his arm was warm, and she would allow that to be a virtue.

“Miss Perdeaux, I dare to say,” he began and hesitated. “I’m very happy to get away from your brother.”

Her eyes widened that he would confess this to her. She wanted to look at him as though that would make her believe what she had just heard. He spoke to her like a confidant, not a recent acquaintance.

He continued. “While I am his guest, I suddenly find he is not the man I thought he was. I have never seen him in his natural environment-- he seems just like everybody else when in society. I could never have imagined he could be so…” He seemed to struggle to find a word to appropriately describe John. She looked up at his face, his brow furrowed as he thought of a way not to insult his host. Rebecca could not land on anything polite either. Perhaps he wasn’t in John’s camp after all. Of course, that did not mean he was in hers.

“Insufferable,” she finished his sentence. She would not shatter his expectations for saying so. He had no reason to think well of her after how John had described her in his presence mere hours before. It felt dangerous to do so, but terribly satisfying when George agreed.

“Much obliged.” He looked down at her and smiled sheepishly. He had a most adorable dimple in his left cheek. She looked away, for the sake of propriety, but she wished she did not have to. 

“Not at all," she answered. Then her voice took on a hard edge. “I am spoiled and willful. I am a horrible sister that will say whatever she wants about her insufferable brother.” She felt her cheeks flush with her boldness to remind him of that morning. 

He stopped walking, and turned slightly so they would be looking at each other, putting his hand  over her hand on his arm. It felt warm through his soft gloves. He wore an agonized expression. “Miss Perdeaux, I do want to apologize for that unfortunate meeting. I could not control my face. I was so horrified by all the things John said. I do not know that any of those things he said about you are true. Being a party to that disrespect felt so shameful to me. I would never wish to cause you any distress.” He abruptly stopped speaking, as though he thought he was becoming carried away or he had already said too much. She felt this apology explained why he sought her company at the cliffs. He had chosen to be rude about his host rather than be party to the abuse of his sister. Of course he couldn’t say this in front of anyone else but her.

She found it curious. She had not known many men outside her family who would speak with her this honestly, especially a new acquaintance, especially an acquaintance of her brother. Though still incredulous and wary of his behaviour, she took a deep breath and decided to repay his vulnerability with her own.

“That is very kind of you to say, Mr. Mayweather, but the fault is not yours. It is his. He enjoys tormenting me, and making others a party to it as though it were a very fun game. It may be unkind of me to say such things about my blood… and perhaps that makes me unkind… I suppose, after what you have said to me about him, you are the safest person for me to make that admission to.”

He let out a breath of relief. “I completely agree, though it may also make me unkind and a terrible guest. I mean to say, I will keep your confidence, Miss Perdeaux.”

Never had a man offered to keep her confidence. Boys had, but they had turned around and blabbed the secrets minutes after learning it. But George was not a boy. He had demonstrated himself to be completely unlike her brother. There was less reason not to trust such a promise from him, but she was not quite ready to do so. After all, he did approach and accost an unaccompanied lady; she wondered if men were told to avoid this situation as much as women were or if he had forgot the lesson or thought her good opinion of him was worth the risk. She cast a look around to see if John might be lurking behind a tree ready to reveal this conversation as a trap, not quite believing he would let such a beautiful man out of his sight.

“You are very kind,” she replied. He dipped his head and smiled with relief. He raised his eyes and met hers, and then he seemed to be frozen there, caught by her gaze. She felt herself pulled into them and their surroundings melted away for a moment. Then she shivered. Or did she tremble? It had been warm when she had left without her wrap and gloves. He looked like he was about to say something, when she shivered again. 

“May we make haste back to the house?” she asked. “The weather seems to be turning rather quickly.” 

“Oh yes, of course.” He allowed her to set the pace as a light precipitation had begun to fall.

[ebaybears]

x - x

[saessenach]

Someone please yell at me about the Emily Wilde series because it is criminally underrated and it singlehandedly brought the whimsy back into my life

[wolvesbaned]

from left to right: Al, Lupa, Cyrus, Melody, and Omar!

mains for a project I've been working on for a long time :) finally found a style I really like for it! thoughts welcome <3

[thatsbelievable]

[messrsrarchives]

7 hours and 30 minutes until i have to call the doctor but who's counting amiright? not me that's for sure. i can so do this spur of the moment phone call without crying.

[enigmachine]

erm hi first tumblr post just finished replaying miracle mask have this

[eebie]

drawing daves fursona

[tuesdayisfordancing]

Fully believe that Jamie’s feelings about his mum’s boyfriend/husband Simon went from “I’ll kill you” to “I’d kill for you” with zero intermediate steps, and also that he didn’t actually say anything about it when his attitude changed, leaving his mum and Simon to observe his behavior and go “He… seems okay with you now? He hasn’t tried to murder you with his eyes in a while and he offered to clean up the kitchen after you baked…” Obviously his mum knows him pretty well and would quickly realize, but it’s still a wild moment of adjustment.

[communistkenobi]

ok my brother and I have dug ourselves out of the tom cruise ditch we were in and switched to his pre-2000s stuff. Eyes Wide Shut, Legend, The Color of Money, Risky Business, and Top Gun were all bangers. Like those are such fun movies to watch. Minority Report was 2002 but that was good too even though it was like 40mins too long. I think Oblivion & A Few Good Men were so profoundly bad it made me lose faith that he could ever be in good movies. However now that we have replenished our spirits we’re switching back to his post-2000s stuff. we’re going to watch The Last Samurai and the first Jack Reacher movie next, and I expect both of those will be bad, or worse, extremely mid

[onelove4boognish]

THIS is the Autistic Agenda.

I know countless are left out shh

Never stop creating and doing this shit, by the way.

[tardxsblues]

Doctor Who 8.08 || 8.11

[petoskeystones]

owen beattie & john torrington + oh god, where are you now? (in pickerel lake? pigeon? marquette? mackinaw?) by sufjan stevens

[myxomato515]

☆☆☆ hi :) ☆☆☆

welcome to mein tumblr blog

i post art sometimes!! by the time this posts i will have made my own designated tag for art stuff, tagged #in/rainbows :) you can search back for more stuff too. i like doodling 👍

this is a list of interests of mine… bold if i’m REALLY fixated on them right now(feel free to add me if you like these!):

shows: aqua teen hunger force, south park, schoolhouse rock, captain laserhawk, spongebob, homestar runner

books: chaos walking, arc of a scythe

games: parappa the rapper, hollow knight, shovel knight, battleblock theater, rayman

music: radiohead, here come the mummies, cake, fall out boy, lemon demon

basic dni but esp dni if you like generative ai get that shit away from me man

i like running sideblogs… i run ask accounts @askthemooninites and @l34v3-1t-2-l4mmy and @tw33k1n-0ut and @asktheschoolhouserockers (on hiatus) and gimmick blog @community-notes-real as well as running a dream journal @jgswfllngntplc and co-running @gumpertbookend

feel free to ask/dm me any time for requests or just to chat i love talking w my mutuals… you are all so wonderful and if you’re reading this you are too :) thank you for reading

strawpage • rate your music • album of the year

[untimelyambition]

something was in the air in that brisbane hotel room bc ur telling me we got the today show interview, the junkee interview, and the incoherent video all filmed in front of that same stupid lounge… unprecedented levels of chaos coming from a location that isn’t the phouse

[hostess-of-horror]