He misses you too, Anon, and has for a while now. 🥹
Today is J. Corvin's birthday! 💚 In honor of it, you'll find character sketches of James below, though there are more pictures: here! This gorgeous collection of art is by Three. I love that there's a wistful longing to his gaze! I wonder what (or whom) he's thinking about?
Here's a scene for J-mancers from TFS: Book Two. Both are versions below!
James
. . .
A solid connection of something against metal disrupts the collective pause and wrenches free a measly squeak.
It takes everyone by surprise.
Instantly, you're moving before your mind can fully quantify James staggering only a fraction of a step, mere inches at best. You reach out before Reese, who was much closer, can. He shoots a knowing look your way that's tinged with unabashed respect. You rest your palm on James's upper back in what's hopefully a steadying motion despite how you're wrinkling his ironed shirt from alarm.
He doesn't shrug off your touch, leaning in as if recognizing who it belongs to before turning around. James clasps your hand mid-turn to prevent your frozen palm from inadvertently resting on his chest. You're a little intense after waiting for his late arrival tonight and from watching that video tape, your fingers catching in cotton instead of letting go as they normally would. He makes up for that by very delicately releasing yours.
*page_break
You locate what's wrong in seconds.
Peeking out behind James and Reese, there's a water fountain that's fit for a grand museum. It blends into the surroundings thanks to its ebony, wrought iron trim, no speck of dull plastic or loud chrome to pull people's focus. James must have caught his side—part of his hip—on where it juts out into the hall.
That will leave behind a bruise.
"Detective?"
"Didn't see it there," James mutters. He overlooks the range of attention he's receiving to adopt a kneel. He puts weight on the fountain's curve to test its mounted hinge. "It's okay."
"They can swallow their spit," you dismiss his diligence while mildly perturbed. He's way more important! "Do you think we're worried about a fountain?"
"Besides, they have many others," Reese adds. "Soda is 'all the rage'."
"Wait, why'd you say it like that?"
"I do not particularly care for fizz," Reese explains to Becca. "Champagne is an exception due to my preferred decanting method."
"Why do…?"
You completely tune out Becca and Reese's conversation about carbonated drinks, stepping around to where James is shining a light on the wall mount. From the corner of his eye, he must spy you, setting his jaw so a jawline you've often traced stands out further. Is he embarrassed? It was a hard smack; the fountain is encased in metal after all.
*page_break
"Are you okay?" you whisper.
"Yes, thank you."
His flashlight's illumination is mostly absorbed by the underside of the machine, throwing faint shadows over his expression that's reserved. When you lean in out of childhood habit, the same one that had you walking faster once there was a slim possibility he was hurt, James inhales. It's hushed to your ears, a tentative breath that will easily be stolen once he witnesses something beautiful, one of preparation. Despite the years in between, you recognize it from marveling at stars together in the tree house. He never tired of them.
Thinking back on what happened, didn't James's head turn before the collision…?
Where was he looking?
You soon find the answer in intense green eyes you should've known your whole life.
They're the same ones that regarded you gently after your first kiss that's a nostalgic memory compared to your new reality.
_ _ _
Jane
. . .
A solid connection of something against metal disrupts the collective pause and wrenches free a measly squeak.
It takes everyone by surprise.
Instantly, you're moving before your mind can fully quantify Jane staggering only a fraction of a step, mere inches at best. You reach out before Ruby, who was much closer, can. She shoots a knowing look your way that's tinged with unabashed respect. You rest your palm on Jane's upper back in what's hopefully a steadying motion despite how you're wrinkling her ironed shirt from alarm.
She doesn't shrug off your touch, leaning in as if recognizing who it belongs to before turning around. Jane clasps your hand mid-turn to prevent your frozen palm from inadvertently resting on her chest. You're a little intense after waiting for her late arrival tonight and from watching that video tape, your fingers catching in cotton instead of letting go as they normally would. She makes up for that by very delicately releasing yours.
*page_break
You locate what's wrong in seconds.
Peeking out behind Jane and Ruby, there's a water fountain that's fit for a grand museum. It blends into the surroundings thanks to its ebony, wrought iron trim, no speck of dull plastic or loud chrome to pull people's focus. Jane must have caught her side—part of her hip—on where it juts out into the hall.
That will leave behind a bruise.
"Detective?"
"Didn't see it there," Jane mutters. She overlooks the range of attention she's receiving to adopt a kneel. She puts weight on the fountain's curve to test its mounted hinge. "It's okay."
"They can swallow their spit," you dismiss her diligence while mildly perturbed. She's way more important! "Do you think we're worried about a fountain?"
"Besides, they have many others," Ruby adds. "Soda is 'all the rage'."
"Wait, why'd you say it like that?"
"I do not particularly care for fizz," Ruby explains to Beckett. "Champagne is an exception due to my preferred decanting method."
"Why do…?"
You completely tune out Beckett and Ruby's conversation about carbonated drinks, stepping around to where Jane is shining a light on the wall mount. From the corner of her eye, she must spy you, setting her jaw so a jawline you've often traced stands out further. Is she embarrassed? It was a hard smack; the fountain is encased in metal after all.
*page_break
"Are you okay?" you whisper.
"Yes, thank you."
Her flashlight's illumination is mostly absorbed by the underside of the machine, throwing faint shadows over her expression that's reserved. When you lean in out of childhood habit, the same one that had you walking faster once there was a slim possibility she was hurt, Jane inhales. It's hushed to your ears, a tentative breath that will easily be stolen once she witnesses something beautiful, one of preparation. Despite the years in between, you recognize it from marveling at stars together in the tree house. She never tired of them.
Thinking back on what happened, didn't Jane's head turn before the collision…?
Where was she looking?
You soon find the answer in intense green eyes you should've known your whole life.
They're the same ones that regarded you gently after your first kiss that's a nostalgic memory compared to your new reality.
Ok promised Agatha and James platonic ramble like I promised because their friendship (or lack thereof) compels me
Its all because of those damned undelivered letters 😔 like yes Grandpa fucked up and gave Agatha some degree of abandonment issues... but the one who made it worse was J
James was the person Agatha needed to hear from the most after the fire. Their grandfather discarded them but J would never do that to them, right? She had been sent away and had no one, and foster care was already a hard enough time as it is, so wanting to hear from him was what kept them going
She even tried writing to him herself to get something, anything from the place they called home. It made them feel like everyone just forgot about them and that they didn't matter, which just worsened their (rather destructive) grief
She eventually forgave J about it, and even learned that J actually DID write to them! But that wound of feeling like they're fundamentally forgettable never healed quite right
Agatha isn't rude/unkind to James by any means! But they ARE keeping him at arms length emotionally in a way that they aren't doing with anyone else
I see that J. Corvin is very much a sufferer of the freudian slip. 🥰
They've already done it again in book two as well (but I can’t post a clip of that one).
Since Fernweh Saga [by @lacunafiction 💖] lives rent free in my head, I’ve made some doodles 🙈 it was supposed to be a simple exercise, starting and ending with James, but ofc I couldn’t stop there...
Below you can see every single one of them in separate pics.
