2 Jun 2022, 02:32
That Elusive Grandeur
The sun settled low over the brim of the Durmstrang quidditch stadium as the approaching darkness breathed a chill through the bottom of the pitch. Far in the distance, thunderclouds growled, sending shivers through the bones of Valentin Schnell as he walked in through the stadium’s gates. Not knowing what he would find in the gathering dusk, the white seeker could not ignore the call of his intuition as it lured him away from the warmth of the castle. He found himself wondering what Romeo was doing and smiled as the thought faded away to the rhythm of his own footfall.
As the last of the sun slipped away, Valentin’s silver-violet eyes adjusted and scanned the arena. The blindness he had bought with his arrogance, courting the lightning, was now fully healed following his rescue by Charles and Romeo. What scars remained lay hidden by clothes during Durmstrang’s typical crisp spring evenings. The glow of the full moon shone off the boy’s ivory skin and snowy hair lifting in an occasional soft wind. He tugged at the vermillion Durmstrang cloak that lay clasped over one shoulder, shrugging it over himself. Its pale silver wolf fur lining appeared bluish in the shadows of the stands as the cloak cascaded down to envelop him in warmth. Spinning around in slow circles, Valentin played with the billowing of the heavy cloak for a moment. Since his resurrection, Valentin felt rejuvenated. Around and around he danced in slow meditation, feeling like a spirit inhabiting a body, liberated from mundane fears and the concerns of what others might think of his unusual habits. He intended to win the respect of others without compromising his authenticity, even if others would laugh at him. The niffler was used to people laughing at his mistakes and peculiarities, anyway. Ever since he was a baby, Valentin consoled himself by enjoying the fact that he could make people laugh at all, regardless of if it came at the expense of his reputation. Ultimately, he just wanted others to be happy.
As he came to a stop, Valentin was raising his head again to examine the moon when he spotted a dark form on the distant rim of the stands. Despite the distance, the eagle-eyed boy discerned the familiar silhouette of his team mate, Charles Alluring, sitting alone alongside his broom. The blonde didn’t appear to be doing anything in particular other than perhaps sulking over some unknown burden. This was just the opportunity that Valentin had been waiting for. Breaking into a run, Valentin closed the distance between them quickly. He had always been a fast runner, but since his rebirth he felt accompanied by a new wind under his wings that launched each stride farther than before. Climbing up the edge of the stands, Valentin vaulted over a high rail and spun around in order to sit next to the boy. Spotting a letter in the blonde’s hand, Valentin’s curiosity sparked immediately, but he held in his urge to immediately ask about it.
«Эй…» (“Hey…”) began Valentin in Russian, looking the boy over with concern. “Charles." While the blonde’s curly hair hung about his ears the same as always, the boy’s lovely face bore clear signs of internal struggle. Valentin had been watching him, during practice and around the castle, and he knew this was not the first symptom of his troubles. Not only was it Valentin’s custom to watch over the members of his beloved quidditch team, but he also cared for the other boy, especially after the seeker’s rescue at the hands of Charles and Romeo at the pier. Maybe he could get Charles to open up about what was troubling him. Switching to English in the hopes of making the other boy more comfortable, Valentin’s silvery voice chimed quietly in the evening air.
“What’s on your mind?”
Abilities: Keen Eye, Evasive Maneuvers, Charmer
Stats: STA 8 ★ EVA 10 ★ STR 2 ★ WIS 15 ★ ARC 1 ★ ACC 11
Last edited by Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood on 17 Jun 2022, 02:43, edited 1 time in total.
4 Jun 2022, 22:54
That Elusive Grandeur
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Charles aimed his broom handle upward, speeding ahead. The setting sun on the horizon, grey clouds surrounding the blonde. Racing toward the top. Above the stands, the goth castle housing durmstrang students and professors alike, the sinking sun... racing above.. a sharp turn to bring himself to a halt. The teen looked ahead, squinting into the light. Taking deep, slow breaths as he loosen his grip on the wooden handle. A beat. The teen dipped his broom downward and fell forward, riding the sun toward the ground.
Pulling his leather jacket on, one arm then the other. The teen brushed back his curls, taking his nimbus in the clasp of his right hand. Walking from the pitch of the field to the stands, climbing the stairs illuminated by the setting sun. Stepping from the stairs, walking across the stands toward the corner, surrounded by darkness. Alone. The blonde sat, broom by his feet. Resting aginest the corner, in the coming days he have been accustomed of being alone. Staying silent. Minding his own business and worries, keeping his head down and away from others. No longer wanting to mess with others, to cause trouble.
The teen felt himself watching others. Watching them laugh, train together. Usually, telling himself that he didn't want that... that he is better off alone... now fought with these thoughts, finding the loneliness that he once treasured to be quite daunting. Quite separating. If a tree falls in an forest and no one is there then does it really fall? Is it ever heard? Or seen?
The blonde felt his fingers reach for an inner pocket of his jacket, pulling from it a letter. Unfolding the parchment. The teen felt his eyes run across the page, the words. Having received it from his father that morning. Charles haven't spoken or written to his family since coming out, since they believed him to be lying... to use it as a call for attention... the faces of his family, of his mother and younger cousin still fresh in his mind when he came out. When his father accused him of lying. When they said he was jealous of his brother. Using this now as a call for attention... as something to separate him from his perfect brother.
Eyes ran across the words. Reading them. His father asking him to write, asking him to come home that summer. Telling him that they forgive him, can see why he seeked their attention... their praise... saying he'll buy his younger a broom, one better and more expensive than his current one.
The teen looked up, dropping the leyter to one hand. Shutting his eyes, staining the tears from falling. He only wished for a family to support him, for a romantic partner to kiss him, for friends who understood him... only finding the final item on his list and still no friends could be found at durmstrang... at least he couldn't see... the blonde rest his head aginest the side, eyes found his nimbus. The broom he told everyone that he bought by stealing money from his father but the reality was... is he bought it with the allowance and summer jobs he saved throughout the years.. now no longer getting neither.
The teen wanted- wants his friends to believe he is living a good life. One of wealth and rebellion. Not wanting them to see the truth.... to see how he truly lives or how his family now views him.
The teen rested his head aginest the side, his breathing felt calm when a voice found his ears. Straightening his back. Turning his head, his eyes found the white haired seeker. Valentin Schnell aka the Niffler aka the white lighting. Charles offered him a nod, accompanied with his signature half smile before turning his eyes back toward the pitch. Unable to look at the boy. To make eye contact without remembering that night... the storm... how close to death have been..
Charles felt his eyes reflect the training pitch. The area has become like his second home. His place of thought. Of meditation. The inhaled, staring at the darkening pitch only to exhale at the words of his fellow team mate speaking english.
The words vibrated within his ears. Powerful... deadly... yet simple... four words that could hold an million different answers... the teen inahled, eyes on the pitch and back straight as he exhaled. Choosing to speak in english, his native tone despite four years of speaking russian at school it would still be the language that he is the most comfortable with.
"You know, that and this involving school or quidditch. Nothing of interest."
His words touched his lips, leaving for the air. Lies. Unsure if he shoild be truthful around the team mate, around the seeker who already suffered so much. But something... something else was there... about him- Valentin. A air of calmness,
of peace. Since his presence joined him, Chadles felt as if he could breath. Inhale in moments of relaxation and exhale the doubt and fear that currently accompanied him.
"How was it..."
Charles started but his words faded, mouth ran dry as he couldn't voice what he wanted to. Fear held him back, a restrained upon his emotions and thoughts. Inhale. The teen felt his eyes flicker onto his team mate, onto one he knew was different, was perhaps one he could relate to a bit. Exhale. Eyes adrift onto the pitch and the teen opened his mouth, the deep voice and mix of accents... british and russian. Contrasting each other and blending together.
"How was it when you came out?"
"There's no such thing as strange creatures, only blinked people" - Newt Scamander
5 Jun 2022, 03:37
That Elusive Grandeur
@Henry Knight - Charles Alluring
In English.
"You know, that and this involving school or quidditch. Nothing of interest," said Charles. Valentin knew it was a lie just from its tone, let alone context or Valentin’s years of studying Charles as a person. The white seeker assumed that Charles knew how obvious a lie it was to him, and decided to take it as a wall. Charles wasn’t ready to answer. What Valentin wasn’t expecting was for the boy to turn the situation back onto him.
"How was it… How was it when you came out?"
Looking up in shock, Valentin had no idea that Charles knew. Valentin had never given a public statement on his orientation and, though not technically secret, he had only officially come out to his parents. Trying to suppress his shock, Valentin searched Charles’s face.
“That is the problem,” whispered the white glow as he sank down into his silver-lined cloak. He would use only his very finest English to ensure the best possible connection with Charles’s fraught condition. “It was perfect. I told my mother and father… and they were perfect. Supportive. My mother’s rock star heart was enthusiastic. She wanted to declare publicly and find dates for me. She read auguries about best partner for me. My father wished the best for me, full of hope for my happiness. So calm, so understanding, completely believing anything is possible for me. He said I can be anything I want and still fly high.” As he wrung his hands and pulled at his fingers, Valentin’s mass of white hair fell down into his downcast eyes.
Reducio
“Auguries said… My ‘wild heart’ will be tamed with calming love and inner strength, not control. A person pure of heart who is infinite. Loyal. Brings me power and will to overcome all. The seer said, accept taming by this person. I memorized it all,” Valentin continued, focusing his eyes on birds lighting on the rim of a watch tower.
“Many people write me, fans, say they love me. They say… compliments. How they feel great connection to me, how I change their lives forever. How I saved their lives through quidditch. They send chocolate, flowers, expensive gifts… and I give the gifts away. I don’t know them at all. I am surrounded but alone. Fine Veela boys, and… old gentlemen, many girls of course. None of them know. I never told. Only my parents. I let fans have their dreams. Maybe it saves someone’s life, like they say I do, inspiring them. No one asked me. They assume, or maybe shy.” The white seeker scooted along the bench in order to lay down on it, head towards Charles while gazing up at the darkening sky. Valentin knew he was monologuing a long time, but he figured none of it would make sense if he didn’t finish.
“It is not because I don’t want. I burn, every day. Like fire of hell, I burn. It follows me, the birds of augury… but I am alone still. I give my life to my friends, bleed for their happiness, fall again and again… still… alone. All I can do now is live for others and make that be enough. That is the only way I can not be alone, is to give everything for them. Everything. Then, at the end, there is no me anymore. I cannot be alone if there is no me.” Valentin’s voice choked audibly, forcing out his words through the cave-in of long-repressed despair.
“If I train, forever train… Fight… bleed and burn… never stop running… fly higher and higher… then maybe they are not alone, too.”
Craning his neck up at Charles, Valentin’s eyes warped with agony. Valentin had not intended for this to be about him. He wanted to know Charles’s pain, to help him. He was supposed to be the captain, supposed to be a strong leader that could bear the weight of the world for his team. The seeker’s imagination wandered back to the day of his lightning crash when he was so utterly weak that it was only Charles and Romeo who held him bound to this world. The intensity of every nerve electrified with the longing of Life, Valentin reached out through the darkness of blind death. Where, where was he? Did Valentin even know what he held in his very arms? Romeo?
Charles’s question, so precise in striking Valentin’s greatest fear and most powerful ache, unleashed a long-hidden torrent barely kept in check on any given day. This was the very torment that drove the seeker to court the thunderbolt of his demise, and here it was again after his great rebirth, still thriving and strangling him like a voracious jungle vine.
“Ha, ha…” Valentin forced. He might as well have been naked, so exposed he had made himself. He had to stop, he decided. This should have been about Charles, and his pain. Valentin wanted to help him, and here he was getting caught up in himself all over again. He wanted Charles to be happy, and he wanted Charles to use him to be happy. That was the only way…
“How… I don’t understand. How did you know? How did you know that I want…..” Valentin’s arms crossed over his chest in a tight hold as if to keep his heart from leaping out through his skin.
9 Jun 2022, 02:43
That Elusive Grandeur
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Charles rested his eyes on the ground, his arms on his knees. The blonde felt his chest, inhale then exhaled.
He felt it soonly be relieved of the pressure that held it down that day from the letter. The one in his hands. The one written from his father. His mind spun, aching as multiple possibilities swirl around... not sure what to do... one thought suggested to burn the letter with an incendio charm and another thought to throw it far intonthe air from thise stands.
The teen sat. Silent. Eyes drawn down. He felt Valentin besides him, his presence calm yet soothing. As if he could breath, he could relax. He could converse with another without worry or was that his aching mind speaking? Valentin wasn't like the others... maybe his heart held a soft spot for his team mates or maybe the white haired seeker are one of the fre who talks to the blonde at school.
The blone felt- his mind itched to tell him. To relieve from the pressure and hus burdening mind. To open up. To let another know how he felt... what laid within him...
His question. His question was a bit blunt but Charles needed to asked... he watched his team mates, picking up on items that others missed. Even through he rarely shows it, the blonde cares for his quidditch team mates- family. Willing to protect them, to stand in front of them in times of need. To help them before himself. The blomde watched Valentin Schnell, he found most days spent watching him... maybe because he is his captain or something else but he couldn't take his eyes from Valentin. He felt that he could easily breath... to reflect around the lad... he hadn't been able to do that around another at durmstrang for quite some time. The feeling felt nice.... welcoming.
He knew he shouldn't have asked but he didn't really have a lot of people to talk to.... people who understood or went through the same thing he is currently going through. Resting his arms on his knees, eyes focused on the ground as he listened. With each word he felt his emotions rising... he felt regret build up...
They sounded almost opposites to one another. The seeker's family accepted him, wanted what is best for him while Charles's thought it to he a cry for attention. A falsehood that he claimed to step out from his brother's shadow, to be his own person... Charles felt his hand squeeze the letter into a ball. Clenching his fist around the parchment. Eyes laid focus on the ground but his ears stayed listening.
He spoke of not publicly coming out... of fans... fans... Charles felt himself shallow, he wasn't surprised that the boy held fans. His flying is incredible and he isn't bad on the eyes either. Those... fans didn't know, send him letters believing their own fantasies. The teen remembered... recounted back to when he told his closest and dearest friends, they accepted him and didn't treat him differently. They are his more of family than those connected to him by blood it seemed.
His next words cuaght his ears. His eyes found Niffler's. Live for another. Loneliness. The teen understood those. He felt at times all he is now is alone. Alone physically and mentally. He felt cut off, separated from those around him. Wanting to step through the barrier... around the glass but not able to do and when he does then is he living for himself? Is he truly who he wants to be? Or a image that someone else crafted of him?
Eyes on Niffler. He couldn't pull away until the words. How did he know? Charles brought his eyes ahead... should he tell the truth or bring fourth a lie? His eyes found the ground. He couldn't lie... he couldn't bring himself to say false words to an team mate because how would he appear to his captain then?
Charles inhaled then let out a breath, eyes focused on the ground as he spoke"I'm stupid but I'm not an idiot," his galance from Niffler along with a flicker of a smile and hint of a laugh. Eyeing the lad for a moment. Not able to take his eyes away from him... specks of light danced on the ends of his hair... illuminated by the moon... Charles felt himself smile then quickly looking away. Thay smiled faded as he continued his words, "after that night- uh the storm... I see the way you look at Romeo during classes and practices and that's the way I look- uh that's not now friends look at each other," his words flow but his heart was elsewhere. Staring ahead. The silent of the night. The warm glow of the moon. All seemed too prefect to be true... Charles eyed Niffler from the corner of his eyes bringing him back to reality.
He turned away, thoughts spinning. Hjs chest felt on the verge of tightening as he suffered through and spoke"have you ever felt as if you were tapping on a glass, on the other side that no one could hear or see... that the image they saw was one distorted... that your fading away and no sees- notices.... that they think your alright, that they think they know you and they don't... that they say your not alone, that their there and want to help but can't- don't understand or aren't there.... that you want to talk to others but feel alone, like your not even there." His words faded as he drawn his eyes for the ground, where his broom laid.
Last edited by Henry Knight on 13 Jun 2022, 03:28, edited 1 time in total.
"There's no such thing as strange creatures, only blinked people" - Newt Scamander
9 Jun 2022, 08:31
That Elusive Grandeur
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In English.
Truth spilling from Charles’s lips, Valentin closed his eyes to listen to the boy’s voice. There were layers of truth to his words, and the rest of the world disappeared in the light of Valentin’s focus. The liberated words slipping out through Charles’s clenched tone, his rapid backpedaling, his suffering-- Valentin soaked it all in. The way Charles looked into his eyes as Valentin opened up his suppressed feelings, how the blonde would smile only to quickly look away, and the tightness in the boy’s muscles… they were all meaningful. The seeker’s senses had sparked with high intensity ever since that lightning strike, and now his once-blunted emotions scoured his veins like liquefied diamond dust. The melody of the scene played in Valentin’s head, loud and with perfect clarity. The sound of crinkling paper crushed in Charles’s hand echoed in Valentin’s mind.
“We came from different places but arrived here the same,” soothed Valentin’s sterling silver voice in flawless English. It was Valentin's way, for skills to rise in answer to an urgent need. Standing up from the bench, Valentin looked over at Charles’s blue eyes locking onto the ground like an anchor. Such loneliness. Such hurt.
“I feel the same,” whispered Valentin, aglow in the soft moonlight. Faces floated through his mind: Mikael, Yefim, his father, Hugo. “I am this side of the glass. They see an illusion of me, reflections of themselves in the glass, while I scream and cry and bang on the divide. They don’t understand, but they act like we are together. They act like we are friends… but they don’t look for me. They assume they know. They are like the fans, believing but not asking. In the end, I still cry alone.”
Valentin’s arms reached out towards Charles’s hand and took the balled up letter away, passing it into the elongated fingers of his left hand as his right hand remained tucked into Charles’s palm. It was a gambit, and Valentin knew he was staking a lot on his ability to extract himself from the situation without incurring a terrible cost. He didn’t know if it was the right strategy. All he knew was that the other boy hurt very much. Valentin squeezed Charles's hand and breathed out slowly.
"So long as you reach for me, I will be there and you will not be alone… because I am reaching back."
Pressing fingertips into Charles’s hand, Valentin’s eyes watched himself do it. The pearl-skinned boy was fundamentally a physical creature and always had been. It was how he communicated in his purest form, through quidditch, through theft, through affection and violence. Why was it that Mikael and Yefim didn’t say anything when the niffler’s hugs stopped?
"Charles…” pressed Valentin carefully. Steely amethyst eyes glanced over the blonde’s lovely features but fixed themselves on the first star of the night emerging from the sprawling black above. "You don’t feel the same anymore. Something is changing in you, and I’m worried.” The words felt inadequate. Valentin was in the habit of watching Charles, too, as he watched over all of his team. Yet, things were different between them after the storm. Valentin’s gaze lay heavier on Charles than before. Was it just that the blonde had helped save his life? Was it all fueled by his concern in Charles’s transformation, or was there more to it?
Letting go of the other boy’s hand, Valentin climbed up onto the guard rail in front of them. Balancing on the thin edge while a light breeze tousled his soft milky hair, Valentin felt his heart reach out into the distance together with his keen gaze. Charles’s earlier words were beginning to sink in at a deeper level. What was it that he had said? Shaking his head, Valentin stopped himself. This was Charles’s moment. Massaging the letter back into shape, Valentin read the words of Charles’s father. They asked for the boy to write, to come home… but Valentin’s heart knew. The words were as hollow as those of a fan who had never met him. They forgave him, said Charles’s father-- forgave and “understood” why he "sought their attention." It reminded Valentin of his mother that day she yelled at him for “manipulating” her to get her attention. It wasn’t true, not for Valentin, not for Charles. The seeker recognized it like a well-known face on the other side of the glass. They’ll buy him a broom, they said. As he crunched the paper into a ball, Valentin’s face contorted just as much in disgust. A hot knife of anger passed through his heart and he dropped the letter at Charles’s feet. Just buy him a new broom, thought Valentin bitterly. What he wants is understanding. What he wants is a real family, not some godforsaken bribe. Jumping down onto the stands, Valentin wanted to pace furiously about, but he settled for crossing his arms across his chest as firm as the best tightrope he had ever tied.
"No… They don’t understand at all. They don’t reach for you, writing like this. They just want some object that is shaped like you, who is what they want you to be. They want you for their toy, for make-believe. I hate it.” An urge to kick the guard rail swept through Valentin, but he let it pass unheeded. Rage clearly etched into his face, Valentin sought Charles’s gaze. The hollow feeling of receiving fake love was all too familiar to the white seeker.
"You can’t do anything about it,” rumbled Valentin’s low voice from deep in his chest. "Only they can decide to look for the real you. If you try to get them to want the real you, even if you succeed, you could forever wonder if it was only because you told them to. Don’t do that to yourself.” Valentin’s eyes gleamed like metal in the dying light, and he forced his hands to the side with clenched fists. Slowly, like creeping forgiveness, the bone whiteness of jagged knuckles relaxed back into their usual warm cream color, fingers unfurling like freed birds.
"The only way is to move on, and find who actually wants to know you. Find the one who wants you and not some doll they can make up lies about.” Valentin heaved a sigh and folded down onto the bench beside Charles. Was Valentin just as guilty? What did the seeker see when he gazed at Romeo, ostensibly performing his self-assigned duties as captain by watching over his people?
Charles was right, of course. Valentin’s eyes followed Romeo in a novel way, tracking him differently from even a golden snitch. In seeking, Valentin could not really see the snitch most of the time. His instincts followed where he believed it was until it glinted. If he did not see the tiny flirtation of gold light up the sky, he would keep searching. When he did spot it, his eyes would not try to lock onto it too tightly, but instead he relaxed his eyes and let the snitch hold his gaze in its erratic frolicking. Half of seeing the snitch was believing it was there because it simply moved too fast to grasp with even the keenest eyes.
Valentin was well-practiced with finding the snitch, as well as reaching it, but every day he continued to train in order to improve this. The difference between the snitch and the other boy was that the snitch could not look for Valentin. Never would a true snitch come seeking the seeker. If Charles tried to get his parents to want to know and love him for himself, it would have been just as pointless as chasing a charmed snitch.
It was not with his seeker eyes that Valentin gazed at Romeo. The Italian was not an achievement, not a toy. Valentin wanted Romeo’s eyes to reach for him in return, but also not in the fashion of the snitch. Valentin’s eyes followed Romeo in the hopes of connecting, as if they could merge their wills and form something greater, something beyond Valentin’s wild imagination. As unpredictable as the snitch was, zipping about in a glimmering embodiment of chaos, it was not alive like the surging will of a boy dreaming and struggling for a greater future. As much as Valentin yearned to grasp the golden snitch, the act of reaching for it was little more than reaching for a better version of himself. No. Watching Romeo, Valentin wanted to connect with someone other than himself, even if it meant losing control and changing as a person in ways he could never have guessed at, let alone strategized.
"That's not how friends look at each other,” Charles had said. It was true, thought Valentin, and that was one of his greatest laments. Friends, just friends, don’t have that degree of power over each other. They influenced each other, connected wills at some level, for sure. Yet… the way Valentin watched over Romeo… it was not the way he watched over the others on the team, nor Yefim nor Mikael. Valentin was letting go of his friends more than ever and feeling them not reach back for him. It wasn’t really about him, anyway, so he just let it go. Valentin would still help them from the shadows whenever he saw an opportunity, but now he had other things to do. Since the day he was struck down by lightning, Valentin was applying himself harder than ever for his new quest. Through the rigors of added training regimens and reinvigorated studies, Valentin kept himself so busy that there was little time to focus on how profoundly lonely he really was. Yet, the boy’s soul knew what it wanted. Valentin’s eyes spoke their silent truth, searching for the depths of Romeo in what brief, glorious moments they could study him. This will all be worth it to pay them back, Valentin thought to himself when his burden weighed too heavily. We’re doing this for him, doing this for all of them…
It was only natural that the observant Charles would notice Valentin’s change, just as the seeker had noticed Charles change. Looking now at the lovely blonde, Valentin felt connection. They were sharing themselves on a level that remained all too rare in Valentin’s life. For once, Valentin did not feel so alone, and he cared for Charles on a level greater than a mere team mate. Yet, even in this sacred moment, it was just not the same as it would have been with Romeo. Charles was special to Valentin, regardless of the blonde’s tendency to lie, in spite of all the petty fights Charles picked. Valentin accepted Charles for the person he was and still wanted to help him be happy. Charles’s pain was Valentin’s, and the seeker found himself humbled with gratitude that the other boy was opening up to him now, in such a fragile moment.
"If you are hurting, please just… call my name. I want to be there for you.”
Approved godmods were approved.
Interacting: @Henry Knight
Mentioning: @Piérre Marchonné
12 Jun 2022, 04:09
That Elusive Grandeur
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His eyes drifted onto the nimbus. The bristles neatly trimmed and parted back. The sleek handled covered in patches of dark spots, most likely dirt or unknown stains. One could tell a lot from a person by the condition of their broom, if their organized or lively. If their dedicated to the sport or play it passively. A broom could be as much as windows to the soul as one's eyes... Charles rubbed his rogjt forefinger and thumb together, still remembering how sleek- how smooth Niffler's broom felt. One of the best kept brooms he ever rode, minus the damage it took from the lighting of course.
Charles ears perked up to the sudden sounds, the shift of movement. Of tension in the situation. Niffler's voice. The blonde didn't move, he couldn't bring himself to. His body felt like lead, unbending and stiff. Unable to manage eye contact with the lad especially after the words of feeling the same... his eyes laid heavily on his broom, right fist squeezed the ball of parchment tighter as the words of Valentin floated through his head.
The teen felt himself inhale. Listening to the words presented to him. Throughout their years, he imagined them never being close beyond team mates. Valentin had his friends, his group- the group with Yefim and the others while Charles... Charles more or less stuck to himself, maybe the occasional other but no close friends or those he can be so open and truthful with at durmstrang. Those laid in different schools.
But that night.... that night... he is speaking the truth. Opening up. Admitting words that he wouldn't imagining ever voicing. It felt at times that the storm... that the night brought on a start of something new? And perhaps exciting? A new beginning or new chapter for them. Maybe one beyond quidditch team mates and stretching to that field of honesty. The knowledge that the other will aid the other no matter the situation. It sounded possible? Why else would the blonde be as open with his team mate and his team mate as open with him.
Charles felt his muscles tense at the physical contact. He never had much experience with such things. His hand going limp, chest tighten as his eyes lingered on Niffler's hand. His mind knowing nothing negative will result from the touch but his body preparing- expecting the worse. Chest tighten, muscles tensed and tingled. Anxious to dodge if needed. Eyes lingered on the hand, the pale hand of his team mate who he never touched before.
His hand twitched slightly, fingers trembling as he felt his muscles relax and chest loosen back to a steady breathing. Eyes still lingered on the hand of his team mate- captain. His own slowly turning, fingers trembled as the words of Valentin circled his mind.
Charles felt empty. His stomach dropped. Eyes lingered on thr hand before they fell, he felt bad for taking up the time of his captain. Of being the focused... the one who needs help or aid. He felt weak... a feeling that he haven't felt in a while and loathes. One that he can't be free of from lifting weights or morning exercises. The teen slowly drew in a breath, his fingers trembled as they twitched towsrd Niffler's hand. The contact- the captain's skin felt soft and full of warmth. Illuminated in the moonlight like pearl dust. Enchanting... drawing him in... the teen bit back, looking away.
The teen felt himself look across the pitch, the field lit up by the soft moon in the distance surrounded by terrain and cliffs. The view is always better in the air. He felt himself take sudden breaths, Valentin's words cut deep. They were what he wanted... someone reaching out, someone who sees and doesn't avoid him. Someone to speak with and feel as if he is seen, someone to offer support to that isn't miles away.
Change. Charles felt himself breath as he watched the flickering shadows from the presence of the moon. Has he changed? He half expected it was merely a question of when his quidditch team mates would notice although he tried not to imagine that moment... not wanting anything to change more than it already have, after all quidditch is his escape at the school when all else fails. Letting out a breath, blue eyes above on the dark forming figures around the moon as he spoke"change? How do you know," questioning the captain just like how he questioned him moments before.
That trembling sensation stretched through his fingers, turning toward Niffler's hand before reforming into a light fist when the hand was pulled away from him. Eyes darted downward. Staring at where the hand once been. Steady breaths. A part of him wanted that physical contact again... longed for it...the blonde felt silence overtake the area once more, he tried not to imagine the words inked to the parchment once more. Rubbing his left fingers over his right knuckle, holding his two hands together while the arms rested on his knees and eyes rested on the ground. His broom. The nimbus that he brought one year... money thay he saved... remembering how excited he once have been, the lies he told on how he obtained the broom. Not wanting them to know the truth... to know who he is or the life he witnesses.
Valentin's words. He hadn't expect such a reaction... his eyes drifted toward the lad. Watching his emotions, reaction to the letter... his words. He felt the urge to rise and wrap his arms around him but stay seated unsure if these emotions coursing through him are for Valentin or another. His eyes on the lad, shining eyes of emotion and white hair that danced in the bits of light. He did feel an connection. Emotions flowed through him as he stared at Valentin. Something was there, it felt deeper... real with the team mate- captain than it did with others.
The teen felt his eyes drift away. His family... his father... that night... Charles would never voice it because that would mean admitting it to himself but he felr afraid of returning home. To face the reaction of his father... his mother... he couldn't imagine what she heard, what she thought of him now. He held back tears as eyes drifted toward his broom. Voice faded as his mouth went dry unable to reply... to agree... to face Valentin... unable to do anything as the faces of those in his family flashed through his mind.
Charles felt his body dip down, eues drift from his broom to above. He knee he had to face his problems at a point in time but without telling anyone, he feared it... facing his problems- worries... he felt it almost daily now. Fear. Although, not wanting others to realize his fear he played it off as rebelling or rule breaking or starting fights. Not wanting others to see the true version of him... he couldn't imagine what they would think of him then... not able to stomach the thought.
If you are hurting, please just… call my name. I want to be there for you
Niffler's words rang in hid ears. He inhaled. Is he hurting? Did he want someone there... someome who isn't miles away and off at another school to sit with... the blonde felt his hand drop to the space between them, fingers stretched out toward Niffler. Eyes followed from his hand then toward Valentin- toward his captain, his team mate and newly created friend that came from the aftereffects of an storm.
"There's no such thing as strange creatures, only blinked people" - Newt Scamander
12 Jun 2022, 21:38
That Elusive Grandeur
It was only a small vibration, but it was enough. Charles didn’t have to say anything, for Valentin understood. They were truly connecting; it was working. The sensation of Charles’s trembling hand tickled up Valentin’s entire arm even as he stood on the rail, separated.
"Change? How do you know?" echoed Charles’s question in the seeker’s mind. He didn’t have a reply yet. The answer was still churning in the marrow of his bones. Valentin would give it to him when he felt it enter his bloodstream, swirling through his heart and brain. He got down and sat on the bench to the boy’s left.
“Charles…” began Valentin as his head turned towards him. From the corner of his eye, he saw the outstretched hand. They were on the same side of the glass, and if Valentin took Charles’s hand, it would be real. The trickle of electricity still tingled up Valentin’s arm from Charles’s trembling before. What was right? What could he do? The same arm that bore the lightning’s scar, a wound reduced by the healing of the blonde’s Episkey, shouldn’t it return Charles’s grasp?
It wasn’t just that Valentin sensed a growing darkness in Charles. That had never mattered, not with Yefim, not with Mikael. He loved them all the way they were, darkness and all. If anything, their pain pulled Valentin towards them with the promise that Valentin could be useful to them in dealing with it. The force that stayed the seeker’s hand now was something else altogether. This evening was crystalline in its clarity, and Valentin’s every nerve crackled with life. The seeker, the captain, the friend— Valentin wanted to be not only these, but more. Something new in him was clawing to get out, blood running hot every night, hungry for more than food.
Valya always liked to play with fire, to be the one under the highest demand to perform under pressure. The allure of riding the edge held sway over the White Immortal no matter how many times he wiped out. He wanted to bear the weight of all of his team mates’ needs, to be there for everyone, pushing the edge of what was humanly possible. Blessed with the responsibility of being captain, Valentin took on a silent oath to support all of his people, come hell or high water… Yet, after the crash, not everyone was equal in Valya’s heart. He could not deny the feeling of invisible flames licking his moonstone skin, tensing up as if electricity arced from his back, in certain moments when he looked at the other boys. Vignettes of memory resurfaced in the night when he was trying to sleep, heedless of how early he would have to get up in the morning.
Though burning alive with desire, Valentin had resolved to stop frivolous thrillseeking after his crash. Every risk he took had to support his new quest, to be worth it. The problem was… the details of that quest still needed sorting out. No matter how copious his fans, nor how energetic his play with his friends, Valentin had never tried to take on a romantic partner. His future was a blank slate, imprinted only with the burned-in afterimage of the seer’s augury.
Charles had said, "That's not how friends look at each other.” Indeed, the way Charles was looking at Valentin now… that was neither the washed-out expression of an acquaintance, nor the peaceful and simple glances of a mere friend. Charles reached for him. His hand lay in the space between them, fingers stretching out like new shoots reaching for the light. Valentin’s glassy eyes searched the distance. Was Romeo reaching out for him, too, somewhere out there? Around the rim of the farthest tower, a raven flew at an eagle in some distant altercation. Was Romeo's life any of Valentin's business, or should he leave him well enough alone, lest he turn out like Mikael?
Valentin’s mercurial mind spiralled through his memories, searching for some sign, some solid signal that he could hold onto to justify holding back. Untold damage could fall upon Charles at this delicate turning point, but Valentin had sworn to protect him.
Deep within his white-hot core, Valentin wanted to shoulder it all. Yet, the boy was not infinite-- the lightning crash proved this to him. His mother’s death proved this to him. The Hogwarts half-giant proved this to him. Reality kept smashing Valentin’s face into the ground every time he flew too high. Valentin’s loyalty could not be equal between Romeo and Charles, and to presume it could would inevitably lead to disaster. Valya would always be a child at heart, but now that his parents were gone, he knew that he had to lead himself. It was just… Valentin didn’t want to be alone anymore in his inner throne room. He wanted another will inside him, helping him see things from new angles, questioning the assumptions he hadn’t known he’d made.
Valentin’s fingertips tingled from the memory of Charles’s quivering hand. It was still there, suspended in the air like a falling team mate, frozen by time’s dilation in a moment of urgency. It was not usually the seeker’s position to save the falling, entrusted as he was with the team’s greater mission. Valentin indeed had a secret quest on behalf of both boys, and his determination for it grew every day like a solid hardwood tree. The mission was bigger than any momentary crash, and yet… Charles was not immortal, not yet. He might never recover from this if Valentin didn’t reach back for him. The memory of Mikael’s blank, disassociating gaze washed through Valya’s heart as unexpected as a flash flood. Why did it keep haunting him so?
Valentin had to choose. Would he hold onto Charles tight, or was it better for Charles if Valentin patched him up after he slammed into the earth of Valentin’s inescapable limitations? Could Charles survive such a crash?
The captain couldn’t consider only Charles, however. Although Romeo wasn’t there, Valentin was loyal to him even without a clear signal of Romeo’s wishes. The other boy’s breath lived inside him. However beautiful this evening was, no matter how hot Valentin’s blood ran since the lightning strike, the answer was crystallizing inside his bones. There was no way for Valentin to take all the blows. Valentin had to choose the boy who would turn him into something much greater than himself, the one who would make him strong enough to sustain the greatest burden— one whose nature was to thrust his shoulders under the weight alongside him. This was the best outcome for everyone.
“Charles…” tried Valentin again, staring deep into the boy’s blue eyes. “I want you to understand. I know you are changing because I watch you. You are important to me, and your burdens are mine… but I cannot help you enough if I do not know the truth.”
Valentin bent down towards Charles’s knee in order for his left hand to reach the Nimbus at the blonde’s feet. Taking the broom into his lap, Valentin held onto its splotchy handle as his right hand reached down to take Charles’s hand. Long white fingers intertwining with the other boy’s, Valentin squeezed softly.
“There are stains on your soul and they leech into how you live. I see it in your desperate violence, you are hurting, hiding yourself under lies. Your rebellion is random, punches reaching in any direction. Deception without great need. Your broom… Tell me the truth. Please. I accept you for who you are. I don’t mind getting dirty, I don’t mind being hurt. All I need is the truth from you…”
Taking a deep breath and squeezing his eyes shut to summon his courage, Valentin's lips parted again. Say it.
“Charles… Be honest with me. I will tell you the truth as well. I…" Searching his heart, Valentin felt heat rising in his cheeks as if just realizing he was about to hit the ground. “I… I…" Eyes shooting open in a blast of amethyst and silver, Valentin squeezed Charles's hand. “STRIBOG, FUCK. I…" It wasn't like Valentin to curse. Usually he kept his cool in order to keep his team together.
«Черт! Блядь, черт, вот блядь!» (“Fuck! Damnit, oh fucking damnit!”)
Valentin rammed his head into Charles's shoulder as he squeezed the boy's hand tight. He couldn't stop the crash.
“I fucking love him, Charles. I fucking love Romeo. Curse my destructive soul, I'm sorry!"
Interacting: @Henry Knight
Mentioning: @Piérre Marchonné
16 Jun 2022, 19:49
That Elusive Grandeur
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Charles heard his name. He didn't move, his eyes drifted from Valentin to ahead. His eyes studying the pitch, the sky fading into the pitch. The lights flashing ahead, above... shining below onto those who dared to stay out.
The teen felt his hand relax, flatten to the bench. His fingers stretched toward the white haired seeker before laying on the bench. Nails digging into the wood, tracing the patterns as his eyes stared ahead. Glistening with fluid as he looked ahead, spine shivering but not from the cold as his blonde hair trembled in the wind.
Valentin's words. He felt his eyes well... glistening... the teen looked away, eyes darting to the ground. To his broom. The teen felt his fingers curled up on the bench. Eys glisten in the light of the moon. Important? He... Charles is important to another? He found that hard to believe... especially at the school where others avoid him. It isn't Drew or Cassie, no even Rosella sitting besides him. Voicing the words. It is a fellow durmstrang... his captain... the teen felt like trembling, he couldn't believe as if someone at this school cares for him. Wanted to help him.
His hand curled in the cold, resting aginest the wood when suddenly he felt warmth fill him. Finhers intertwining with Valentin's. He realized that he- his emotions toward Valentin isn't one of love or a crush... he cares for his captain but it's one closer than a friend but less than a brother.
Eyes glistened, head turning toward Valentin. A single sliver tear running along his cheek as he spoke"I can... I can do that... tell the truth but- but what if you avoid me after?" His words trembled like his grip on Valentin. The teen swallowed hard, blinking fast as two then three more tears fell down his cheek.
The words. Were they- are they true? Rebellion or acts to be seen.. to be noticed by others? Punches or tests that he isn't a ghost... that he is actually there... his broom... his broom.. lies and secrets that he held to, not wanting others to know. To see... to see what he sees and goes through because if they did then what would they think? What would they do? He could no longer control others opinions of him if they knew...
His grip trembled as he held to Valentin's hand. Tears stained his cheeks as his gaze dropped. His broom. The sudden urge to throw it built up... surpassing the other thoughts... his mind turned, reeled as his eyes didn't leave that broom. That broom...
Valentin's words... surpassing him... echoes in thr distance... his eyes found the broom. The one he a few summers ago couldn't wait to show Cassie, the one he played in games on and the one he went aginest Scarlett one. The broom he lied to every soul about its origins. Not wanting to say... to say how he got it or where he got the money... to see their words, their reactions. Not wanting to let them know how hard he mourns. He goes through life struggling to talk... to speak...
Valentin. The head to his shoulder. The squeeze of the hand. The words- confession of love for Romeo. The teen felt his head rest aginest Valentin's as he spoke"a pair of destructive souls we seem to be," a beat. Pulling his head from Valentin, squeezing Valentin's hand then pulling awau from the boy's grip as he spoke"I care for you but not romantically, be with him. You deserve him captain... I- I know my heart doesn't belong to anyone romantically. " The words trembled from his lips as he stood.
Taking his broom in hand. The nimbus
He held it, closing his eyes. The tears drying to his cheeks, staining them as the darkness concealed the noise. The teen held the broom then threw it, threw it into the darkness of the night.
"There's no such thing as strange creatures, only blinked people" - Newt Scamander
17 Jun 2022, 02:29
That Elusive Grandeur
@Henry Knight @Piérre Marchonné
In English.
Valentin had to believe in Charles’s strength to get through this. The world was more powerful than the white seeker, and when Charles had to crash, Valentin would do everything to fix him up afterwards. Charles lay on the bench with a silver tear streaking down his face. The watery shine glinted through the dark under a passing light. What wish burned in that shooting star, wondered Valentin. One day I’ll make it so that you can survive any crash, he thought. I will repay what you did for me, ten thousandfold.
"I can... I can do that... tell the truth but- but what if you avoid me after?"
“I’m not giving up on you. You never gave up on me. Even after that terrible day, you stuck with the team. You saved me. I died, Charles. I died, but you were there for me, and I came back. I will never forget it. I am a different man now… but you were as constant as a star to me.” Charles’s hand trembled in Valentin’s, and his captain held tight to it. Charles’s friend held tight. More of the blonde’s tears fell, a meteor shower, as Valentin watched over him. The seeker tried to read the emotions passing over the boy’s face, but he could only understand so much in the silence. Following Valentin’s confession, he too, laid down on the wooden bench and gazed up at the planets coming into view along the ecliptic.
"A pair of destructive souls we seem to be," said Charles before pulling away. "I care for you but not romantically, be with him. You deserve him captain... I- I know my heart doesn't belong to anyone romantically." Somber, Valentin’s mouth hinted at the ghost of a smile. Charles was still hurting.
“Give it time, Charles. One day you’ll find him,” eased Valya, sitting up as the other boy began to move. The seeker felt all the pressure drop from Charles, as if the boy had decided to lock in Valentin’s identity as his captain, and, at best, a friend. This was, of course, the healthy conclusion that Valentin was aiming for. Yet, the chill seemed to creep further into Valentin’s body with the return of distance and isolation. Alone in his position as sole captain, what else could he hope to do but silently bear as much weight as he could for his team? Then again, with Charles listening to him tonight… With a friend accepting what Valentin revealed about his own deep and writhing pain, maybe Valya wasn’t so alone. Valentin didn’t need to hide from him, either. The seeker was about to pull his legs into his cloak when Charles took up his broom, only to cast the stained Nimbus into the darkness.
Valentin had a choice, then, to go after the broom. Fleet-footed and athletic as he was, he could easily jump after the Nimbus and bring it back to Charles, telling him that he accepted him, stains and all. Yet, Valentin’s feet froze in place. Stop, he thought. Charles must carve his path back to being whole again. No one can take another’s journey for them. Blinking slowly at Charles, Valentin searched for what he could do for the other boy. He wanted to grasp him, to hold the chaser in a warm hug and tell him that he would get him a new broom. Valya wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay, but his mouth wouldn’t move. Was he afraid of trying to lead now, afraid to hurt the boy worse than he already was-- afraid of his destructive power falling back on another, as with Mikael? No, felt Valentin. I just don’t want to take Charles’s power away. If I don’t treat him as an equal… then we really are alone. I can’t stifle what he has to do to heal.
Letting the broom fall away into the depths of the darkness, Valentin could only hope that Charles would remember what he had told him today.
“You can tell me the truth if you want, Charles. That is your power, and your risk to take. Please…” Silver-violet eyes searched for Charles’s gaze. “Please don’t forget my words. You’re not alone.”
Valentin approached the edge then and crawled up onto the guard rail. He stood against the cold breeze, eyes scanning the farthest tower-- how did it turn out with the eagle and raven fighting out there? He couldn’t see them anymore. Perhaps it was the darkness closing in, or maybe they had gone back to roost for the night. There was no knowing from this distance what had happened. The only way was to get closer.
Turning back to Charles, Valentin reached out an arm.
“Thank you, my friend.”
Thread complete.