A Bond Of Ten
04/12/2024 mentions
@ Camille De Varenneooc: location: elsewhere
Maisie waited, anticipating his next action from where she's left him by the door to go on the ladder and show him the fun. She wondered if he'd go and have a try himself, or if he'd scorn upon it. She had the impression that though their backgrounds may be similar, they certainly weren't brought up the same. Either way, he surprised her by jumping on the ladder and zooming across the room with a 'woahh'. He was smiling, when he stepped off, for perhaps the first time since he and his family entered through the big front doors carved with intricate designs.
"Fun, huh?" She asked, smiling. Her younger sister, though age wasn't an issue, would whine and cry and don't seem to understand the fun of their "zipline". At special holidays or what not, everyone would travel to the ancestral home where her Grandfather took residence, so there weren't many occasions everyone was at her house. When they did, it would usually be her maiden aunts or something.
He went over to where she sat, by the table, the chess board, which still bore the remnants of the last game, though forgotten, was rearranged by her as he closed the distance between them.
He'd take the game seriously, it seemed, as he seated on the black side. He crossed his arms, and the only other time she'd seen anyone do that was when she asked Grandfather to play with her when she was younger. He hadn't let her win on purpose, he treated her like he would any other opponent, skilled or otherwise. He told her that, but he also taught her tactics and how to win. In the few years since that game, the girl had picked up many new skills.
Resting her chin on her propped up left arm, and lifting her right arm to pick a white marble pawn, Maisie chose a classic opening, and slid the pawn to e4. Let the game begin, she thought. Her ear were perked, and she listened for any movements beyond the door. If a maid came, or her brother, it would mean they'd have to go back. Worst case scenario is her Grandfather. But that wasn't likely.
A Bond Of Ten
| C | date: 4/12/2024 location: Elsewhere, Windsor |
abilities: lovely creature dialogue: #0a2a28 mentioned: @Maisie Fenwick Rose Williams |
C |
| CV | Attentive and focused with his eyes on the chessboard, he followed Maisie’s fingers as she started the game by sliding the pawn forward. Losing, even if Camille could count the amount of times he’d played chess on less than ten fingers— most of those times, his brother had handed the wins to him— was not an option. With confidence beyond his experience, he was, of course, playing to win. Like him, his opponent was just a ten year old; he doubted she would manage to surpass him in strategy, and if she miraculously did, not by much. After her starter move, Camille mirrored her decision quickly, moving his own pawn to face hers. When his second turn came shortly after, still without much at stake, he moved one of his horses to F6 to threaten her pawn. When he was done, satisfied, he casually returned to cross his arms over the table. Nothing major or interesting happened during the first few draws; the most exciting exchange of losses were of a pawn, tower and bishop, leaving them still on equal ground. Camille moved his pieces languidly, perhaps too carelessly, because in one stupid, careless moment, he didn’t see the colossal blunder until Maisie’s bishop had already taken his queen, right in front of his eyes. He’d reached for another pawn before realizing what had happened. His hand froze midair. Searching for his missing piece, his gaze snapped to the board— then to her when he couldn’t find it. His eyes narrowed in utter disbelief. Did she just outplay him? How was that even possible? He stared, blankly at first, unwilling to believe it, as if she would reveal the joke any second now. That did, of course, not happen. Having to come to terms with, and accepting that he would lose this game, Camille felt his cheeks heat slightly. The Frenchman despised looking foolish, and that ignorance was nothing other than pure stupidity. With his queen gone, and lost to such a stupid mistake, his game was practically over. It was all fair, of course, but his eyes darkened beneath his thick lashes. “Oh. You. Did. Not.” His voice was low, a threat smooth as velvet. Somehow, she had managed, and there was no turning back. Trés bien, he thought with a heavy sigh. Now what? His chances of winning now, especially with her pieces blocking all of his pawns that potentially could earn himself a queen back, was essentially non-existent. Deciding to bite it together, Camille continued on the game with the brave hopes of, somehow, finding a way around this blunder, though he bitterly had to admit to himself that it was probably a lost cause. The game continued on for a few more rounds, until he had nothing left but a single, pathetic pawn and his king, helplessly running from Maisie’s queen. At some point, the check mate was inevitable, and Camille had to throw in the towel. “Fine. Congratulations. You win.” It sounded painful for him to admit. Forgetting himself for a moment, Camille slumped back in his chair with his arms crossed, displaying every piece of the bad loser he was. With another sigh, Camille rolled his eyes. “To be fair, I don’t play that often,” he added, to save himself some of his dignity, to explain the loss. |
CV |
Ilias Lahlou | Ilvermorny
A Bond Of Ten
04/12/2024 mentions
@ Camille De Varenneooc: location: elsewhere
As any ten year old who didn't know any better, Maisie was set on winning. When she was younger, she would cry if she lost, but she was certainly not going to let that happen if her king fell. Camille had a look that told her he wanted to win as well. The best way to test ones abilities in anything is to compete against someone your age, especially if they were young. When people are young, they wish to win, and won't let you simply win, either.
Her eyes followed every one of his movements, and though she put on mild expression-- advice from her brother to 'fool the enemy' --, her mind was working overtime. He took longer to think than her, which have her time to think her moves as well as estimate his. A move to g6, and his black queen was in her hands, courtesy of her bishop. As more of his pieces stood, lined up beside the oak chessboard on her side, the higher her spirits went. She moved a marble pawn forward and to the other side, then she was able to exchange it for another queen. The game was in the bag. She exhaled slowly, trying to hide her excitement as he was left with two pieces: his king and a pawn. Lifting up her hand a final time to slide the white marble queen diagonally down one square. "Oh. I. Did." She copied his words as realization hit him. "Checkmate.", she said, trying, and failing to smother a smile that came quick with the jubilation of winning. She copied his words, grinning now. "Good game, no?" She gathered the pieces together and turned the board upside down, placing them in the wood, and shut the board. "Well, that's that." There wasn't any movement beyond the door, which solidified her belief they'd have time for round 2 of fun before Camille would have to go back.
She looked around the room for something to do. He was most likely still fuming, and they needed a new distraction. Music! That was the answer to many questions, was it not? She reached behind her, where her flute lay, on the couch-- which was perhaps not the best place to put it-- and picked it up.
"You sing?" She asked, flexing her hand in preparation, and polishing off the flute with the edge of her shirt. She wondered what song he'd know that she'd also be able to play on a flute. Something French, perhaps? "Nuit D'étoile? Do you know it?"
A Bond Of Ten
| C | date: 4/12/2024 location: Elsewhere, Windsor |
abilities: lovely creature dialogue: #0a2a28 mentioned: @Maisie Fenwick Rose Williams |
C |
| CV | Still fuming over his loss, Camille said nothing while he replayed the game in his mind— what he could have done differently. He still could not wrap his mind around how Maisie had managed to outplay him. Neither did he make any attempt to be of assistance while he sourly watched Maisie, still too smug for her own good, collect all the pieces and put the board away. If his parents would have knocked on the door at that moment to announce that the visit was over and they were finally leaving, he would have welcomed it. Camille glanced at the door anyway, though no footsteps could be heard beyond it. After a minute passed and they remained alone, it became clear the two children still had time to kill. With the Williams girl’s never-ending supply of creativity, they were not restless for long. Reaching behind her, she picked up a silver flute from the couch. Camille noted the odd choice of storage with a subtle grimace, further enforcing his image of Maisie as a bit wild and reckless, leaving a fine instrument laying around without a case to risk its ruin. At the end of the day, however, it wasn’t his items laying exposed and unprotected. What happened to them didn’t affect his life, which was the only thing that concerned him. “You sing? Nuit D'étoile? Do you know it?” The girl asked, bringing his attention back to her and another one of her unexpected behaviors. Bewildered, the French boy watched her wipe her flute off with her shirt, thinking that, for a daughter of a somewhat prestigious family, she did not exactly act the part he would have expected. He had not yet decided whether it was refreshing or simply annoying to have customs so carelessly challenged. Camille might not have been the epitome of the perfect child himself, far too often testing his father’s patience and daring to push against boundaries when convenient, yet he knew, when it mattered, how to present himself in public. Unconventional behavior aside, she had clocked him correctly. Camille was a talented singer, enjoying the performance as much as the act itself. The song by Claude Debussy, too, was not unfamiliar to him, being classically trained. It was a good choice, he thought, the main reason being his own French heritage. His English was superior to most children of his age and background, though it never felt as natural as his native French, and he had never before encountered English opera; if such a thing even existed, he could not imagine it sounding remotely pleasant, which explained why, on any scale he was aware of, it had failed to achieve success as a genre. “Of course,” he said, suppressing an eyeroll as he rose from his seat. Surely the topic had come up in conversation at some point. Either way, he thought spending their remaining time with music was a decent distraction. “C major?” he asked for clarification. The boy could always go higher, with his youthful vocal cords not yet limiting his range, but that was the conventional choice. |
CV |
Ilias Lahlou | Ilvermorny
A Bond Of Ten
04/12/2024 mentions
@ Camille De Varenneooc: location: elsewhere
* grandmotherMaisie noticed his grimace, and raised her eyebrows, though she didn't say anything, other than sighing, before fishing for a respectable handkerchief from her shallow pocket, and finishing the polishing with it. She knew he'd be judging, and she would, too, if she was the one watching a child of nobility. And he was right, her behaviors were controversial, due to the fact she finally had someone her age to talk to. Not some whiny sisters or overbearing brothers. She could feel the remnants of his fury radiating like a fire, and she yet again tried and failed to suppress a smile. There was just something about beating someone your age that she couldn't place.
But when she suggested the song to be Nuit D'étoile, it seemed he was satisfied with it. Music was something both of them appreciated, it seemed. Maybe he wouldn't try to kill me. The girl thought, though the chances she was murdered in her own house was slim, as he didn't know where everything was. She had tried to find something that was from France, his motherland, and it was the first one that came to her mind. Maisie knew how much one could miss the land they were raised on. She missed her Mam-gu's* village full of culture and music. She could only guess how much he missed France. She had a notion that he was lonely inside.
She stood up and straightened out her clothing, backing into a wall. Although the song wasn't long, she preferred leaning against something, rather than standing by herself. It was comfortable that way, save the fact the walls, though paneled with wood that reached the ceiling, was cold. She also wasn't stupid enough to sit while preforming, because she wanted to enter and leave this room with life still left in her.
"C major" She confirmed by repeating it back at him, with a soft smile. It would have been interesting if she said a higher note was better suited. Some of her childhood had been associated with her brothers singing with a voice so high, birds left their homes in the trees. Unfortunately, neither hers nor his parents would be pleased, and she doubted he would do it. Besides, it would undoubtedly be classified as 'a cruel joke at the expense of others'. Doing nothing more than bringing the mouthpiece to her lips, she looked at him, waiting.
A Bond Of Ten
| C | date: 4/12/2024 location: Elsewhere, Windsor |
abilities: lovely creature dialogue: #0a2a28 mentioned: @Maisie Fenwick Rose Williams |
C |
| CV | For their private concert, Maisie opted to stand, leaning against the paneled wood wall with her flute ready. For the best diaphragm support, Camille pushed his chair back and stood up as well, remaining more centered in the room where he’d achieve the best resonance. Once the octave was agreed upon, they could begin. She raised the mouthpiece of the flute to her mouth, waiting for his cue. Camille took a deep breath, in lieu of proper warmup, before giving his partner a nod to signal that he was ready. The instruments led the piece, never the other way around. The singer let the flute take the lead in an instrumental introduction, enjoying the crisp, dulcet notes from the instrument with a soft smile on his face, while waiting for the right timing to add his vocals. Camille was not an expert on the flute, or any other instrument for that matter, but he knew music well enough to catch any awkward off-key notes. Judging by the sound, Maisie had committed to her practice for some time, a dedication to her craft he respected. “Nuit d'étoiles, sous tes voiles, sous ta brise et tes parfums~”1 Camille began singing the lyrics with self-assured confidence, holding on to the notes in an operatic bridge, sometimes with a high vibrato, as he saw fit. In his training, the boy had reached a point where he preferred to incorporate his own artistic signatures, rather than doing full covers. Continuing with the song, he thought they sounded beautiful together, in effortless harmony of instrument and voice. Camille might not be the easiest person to collaborate with in other aspects of his life, preferring to delegate others to ensure his vision is realized before anything else, but in the realm of art, Camille knew the importance of harmonious partnership for the outcome. Strict instructors had instilled proper etiquette in him to prepare for a professional career, and any instance where the young boy had tried to act out in childish hubris had quickly been corrected. It was in his best interest to seamlessly blend in with Maisie’s flute, listening first in case of any mishaps before he would allow his large ego to take the lead, quite a contrast to the boy who had mourned his loss and bruised ego in chess just a few minutes ago. It did help, of course, that both of them were talented in their respective disciplines, one of the reasons everything went smoothly, even if he took his training seriously. If anything would have gone wrong, though unlikely, Camille would have adapted and let the piece continue as if he hadn’t noticed. During the short performance, his gaze wandered from the ceiling of the room to the flute, eventually coming to a rest on Maisie. Dragging out his last notes, the sound lingered in the room as Maisie concluded with the flute. A brief pause followed as he caught his breath. He gave her an appreciative smile and nod, a silent thank you for indulging him the experience of performing together. “That was beautiful,” he said softly, sincerely, as much an expression of self-appreciation as a compliment for her efforts. There was barely enough time for her to respond before there was a curt knock on the door. His head turned towards the sound, and a moment later, it creaked open and his brother Julien stuck in his head. There was only one reason he’d come to look for him, a fact that now, after sharing his passion for music with Maisie, mildly disappointed him. Preparing for the upcoming departure before he’d said the words, Camille took a few, slow steps towards his older brother. “Sorry for interrupting,” the young man told the daughter of the household, then looked at his little brother. “Camille, father is looking for you. Dinner is over.” Nodding, the younger boy started walking towards the door to join his family, keeping Alain waiting too long would bring consequences and foul moods that Camille had no desire to deal with this evening. Glancing from his brother back at the girl, Camille gave her a subtly apologetic smile. “Well, I suppose that means farewell. I enjoyed the music. We should do it another time.” 1. Night of stars, beneath your veils, beneath your breeze and fragrance, |
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Ilias Lahlou | Ilvermorny