Crystal Tower PV

7 Jul 2022, 04:25

North of Kazan, Russia
The Schnell Estate on the Night Before Boot Camp

At midnight, Valentin finished explaining their schedule to the Durmstrang Quidditch team and looked each player in the eye, smiling. He was happy they were here, even if exposing his family’s status made him deeply uncomfortable. Sergei would take it from here if they had any further needs. The captain bade them good night and walked to the doorway, only to turn his head back as he stood half-covered by the door frame. His eyes fell upon Romeo to see if the boy was already putting himself away for the night. If he caught the boy’s cerulean gaze, Valentin would stare back, beckoning with nothing more than the intensity of his focus. He still had business with his co-captain. Heliotrope and pewter eyes neither blinked nor strayed, waiting for Romeo either to pull away first or to come to the doorway.

Following the other boy’s response, Valentin turned and made his way down the grand stairway to exit into the cool night air. High mountain winds had dissipated the valley fog to reveal the Milky Way and its entourage in exquisite clarity. Valentin’s cloak hung over the school duffle at his shoulder, swinging gently as he headed for the rear of the complex where stood a crystal-domed spire, glinting under the scimitar’s-edge moon. At the minaret's base, Valentin drew an ornate alabaster key from his pocket to enter the ground floor’s miniature quidditch museum. All around floated artifacts of historical value ranging from the well-known to the obscure, bludgers and goggles and wooden bats galore, each piece encased together with an informative placard in charmed glass that admitted only certain caretakers. With a slow, controlled breath, Valentin raised the well-polished casement of a broomstick at the center of the room. The broom’s pure white birch brush abutted with glittering goblin ironwork onto an ebony shaft as black as a comet’s skin, darker than even charcoal. A numbered silver plate on its handle identified this to be the handiwork of no less than Randolph Spudmore himself. Only a true aficionado would be able to deduce its previous Durmstrang owner from the glory days of the original Firebolt.

Now contrasting within Valentin’s white hand, the broom stole away the light of everything around it in its own mysterious way. All the artifacts around them seemed pale in comparison by virtue of the broom’s unspeakable majesty. Laying the broom against his shoulder, Valentin spun on his heel to turn away from the stairwell beyond, roped off as it was with blue velvet cord. Stepping back out under the stars, Valentin held out the Firebolt in both hands and examined the stars reflecting off its fine metal curls. Legend that you are, he thought.

If Romeo had accompanied, Valentin would look up at him now from the other side of the broom. Face glowing, as smooth and blank as the estate’s mythological statues’, the seeker's gaze locked onto the other boy's as if focused on a challenge that required everything of him. Even in the understated light of the crescent moon and stars, the arabesque bud of crystal above dashed rainbows at the eye as one moved.

If Romeo had not accompanied, Valentin would drop the broom back down to his side as he stole away secretly into the dark forest beyond.

Last edited by Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood on 23 Jul 2022, 03:25, edited 2 times in total.

★ Valentin's Ency ☆ ☄ койрыклы йолдыз килә-ә ☄ ☽ Aida's Ency ☾

21 Jul 2022, 05:31

Durmstrang Institute's
¤ | Ω | ¤
Romeo Giovanni Marchonné

"English."

"Italiano. Italian."
"Russian."
| Faint scar on left eye |

| Mangled right ear |

Valetin Schnell
@Aida Mórsgor-Ama Ellwood

Val finished giving the team the rundown of the camp's schedule as I crouched beside him, hands locked together and looking down at the ground as I nodded along with his words. We had a lot of things to do and very little time to do it in. As it stood... Less than two weeks of practice was deplorable to me. How much more ideal it would have been to have longer to practice and dedicate the team to its destiny of working together... But I could bot deny my team the ability to visit their families or go on well-deserved vacations with their families. It was a luxury I couldn't afford, after all, so who was I to hold them back from that you as well?

As Val backed away, I took the stage, slowly lifting myself from the squat I had been in and dusting off my hands. "Make sure you all get a good night's sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow morning, and I don't want anyone to be too tired to participate." I offer a fleetingly reassuring smile before backing away with the intent to return to the quarters that had been so generously bestowed to me this summer in the interest of giving me a place to stay while out of school. I too would have a busy day tomorrow... Though it would be wildly different from what my team would experience.

Glancing from the ground, I find Valetin's eyes fixed upon me with intensity. Leaving the team behind, I close the door, meeting eyes with our albino seeker.

"Val?" I ask quietly, starting to wonder if something was bothering him. Had my plans for this camp been too much after a second thought? Had I been too ambitious in my goals or expectations of this event?

Was he going to suggest we disband it in favor of some other team bonding activities and practices?

Instead of responding to affirm or deny any of these concerns, Il Niffler instead took off down the flights of the mansion and exited to the outdoors. Quickly, I paced after him, though I find myself a good deal slower than his agile form, falling a small ways behind his trail to the outdoors and to some seemingly mysterious location.

Overhead, the mists of night have cleared enough to let the stars of the silvery milky way shine brightly and without obstructions. A crescent sickle of a moon gleams overhead with argent steel, and small sounds and creaking noises-- from fauna and flora respectively-- whisper through the air.

Though I have my wand at a holster by my side, I think better of attempting to cast the wand-lighting charm and potentially marking myself as an underage caster beneath the Trace. I consign myself to only using the skill of my plain eyesight to penetrate the darkness surrounding the area. After quietly meandering the area for a few moments in an Only mildly familiar environment to me, it is only by a faint glimmer of silver in my periphery do I note Valetin slowly emerging from a tall crystal spire that appears almost invisible in the cool moonlight; the Quidditch museum that I had idly looked upon every now and again but had never had the gall to walk into thus far. In his grasp is a broom. A broom whose pale birch twigs and finely wrought silver metal glow in the light and whose dark ebony shaft appears a void in the darkness.

I marvel at the fine piece of work at a distance as Val approaches, taking in such a fine broom befitting a rich and well-off pureblooded family. It is bot until he draws closer that I finally observe the gilt numbers engraved upon the ebony. Numbers that marked it as being of a very specific model created by Randolph Spudmore. A broom of myth abd legends, the envy of the wizarding world in the 1990s. A broom that was far too rich for my blood, regardless of if I was Muggleborn or Pure.

A Firebolt.

Faint refractions of light glitter across the ground between us, courtesy of the museum's elegant spire. Eyes wide, I find myself unable to approach, taken aback by the priceless artifact that my Captain held. The broom must be at least 20 years old, perhaps older if it had been one of the very first ones produced.

The cat finally returns my tongue, though the frog refused to give up its home just yet. "A... A gorgeous model, Val. Are you planning on using... using it this upcoming game?" I murmur quietly, remembering just how badly Valetin's Silver Arrow had been damaged in recent months. My own broom, a loyal and incredibly sturdy Moontrimmer, had only barely held itself together after its encounter with lightning, the handle of it bow sporting charcoal burns that are perfectly inverted when compared to the shade of my own pale scars. "Anything for victory, yes?" I nod to it, realizing only now that my arms are folded with hands grasping my ribs in an unconscious attempt to avoid touching or damaging the piece of fine art that now sits before my eyes.

Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 7 | Strength 15 Ω
Ω Accuracy 14 | Wisdom 9 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω

𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎. 𓃦
I am the brother account to Piérre Marchonné

23 Jul 2022, 10:02

North of Kazan, Russia
The Schnell Estate on the Night Before Boot Camp

Val approached Romeo until only a foot away, dropping his duffle while adjusting his cloak to continue hanging from his shoulder. Looking his beater in the eyes, Valentin elevated the broom before him with both hands. The tips of the silver fur lining his cloak shone iridescent with an unusual milky blue even under the modest moonlight. Yet, everything surrounding the Firebolt in Valya's hands seemed to bleed its light towards the comet-black broomstick.

"A... A gorgeous model, Val. Are you planning on using... using it this upcoming game?" stammered Romeo. Invisibly inside his left boot, Valentin flexed his toes in agony, trying to hold himself together.

Val tried to mouth a response, but he saw Romeo’s arms crossing over his chest and he bit his lip instead before reclaiming a stoic countenance. The captain bowed as if in ritual.

"Anything for victory, yes?"“Everything for victory!” (classic Soviet phrase)

“Romeo, on behalf of our team, I entrust this broom into your posssession.” Regardless of whose account had paid for the broom [Val’s], the artifact was a permanent part of Durmstrang’s vaunted team history. Money was inconsequential compared to the importance of passing the torch down through the ages to the right people. It wouldn’t be the last broom Schnell would give to teammates this summer, but there was certainly deeper meaning behind giving away his most prized possession tonight.

“For victory, yes,” laughed Valentin low, trying to clear out his tension. Blinking away to the right, Valentin realized he’d sounded like his dad for a moment. He didn’t know what to make of it. The momentary distraction faded quickly, however, and Val returned to clenching and unclenching his toes, but this time in the opposite boot. “The team is lucky to have you back." Just like I am... "This is what we need. Please take your broom.” Val's silver eyes froze, locked into an uncontrollable stare into Romeo's.

It wasn’t giving away the broom that hurt. The pain was from Romeo not understanding. Val’s anguish interlaced the distance between them like a basic physical property. The stars were just too goddamn beautiful tonight.

Suddenly, a crackle ripped through the air as explosions from behind Romeo began going off in succession. Valentin looked up and crossed his arms. Fireworks.

He hadn’t arranged for this. Streams of green and blue and red, curtains of glimmering gold, soaring white rockets… The big booming ones that seemed to black out the sky with an intense flash. A long, streaming white firework shot across the sky like a comet in a solo arc during a lull. Those had always been his favorite, but he wondered why they were only ever fired one at a time. Even as a boy, that isolation had saddened him.

“Ah...” breathed Valentin. His people had a taste for theatrics. He supposed this was their way of welcoming the team. In a half smile, Valentin thought his team needed to be sleeping right now, not running to the balcony to watch the display. Maybe he could let them sleep in until 5am. No, they could. They were a “they,” now, weren’t they? A curtain of red fire blossoms rained down the sky, followed by cyan spirals and a wash of silver sparks that darkened into purple. Valentin sighed. This wasn’t going to help his case. The seeker’s eyes looked down to watch the colored lights playing off of Romeo’s face. Val could almost hear music composing itself in his head as the flint-like angles of the Italian’s jaw flickered in waves.

Come on, Valik, he chided himself. You promised me. Come on… you said you wouldn’t tonight. The backlit silhouette of his co-captain was terribly beautiful, however, as the colors danced in syncopation with shadows. No, Valik, you promised you would wait. We want him to like us for us, not because of our inheritance, remember? Be patient. Let him forget what happens tonight and see if he comes back. We want to be the type who keeps promises, right?

The rush of the show’s grand finale sent chills down the backs of Valentin’s legs. The blood in his veins couldn’t deny the intensity of the moment, even as his rationality tried to shut him down. Where was the ice of Captain Frost now, he derided to himself in a silent half-smirk, half-frown.

Once the display had ended, Valentin looked at Romeo’s left elbow and he began to reach out. Watch yourself, charovnik чаровник: charmer; lit. “sorceror”, thought Valya. The lanky seeker pushed forward anyway, aiming to take Romeo by the arm. His mother had taught him the proper way, some time after his augury. Valentin’s long fingers curled below the lower crescent of the boy’s bicep for a snug fit, and he pulled gently with his body weight as if leading a partner into a waltz. This was no dance, however, and Val kept pulling as he guided the boy back towards the crystal-domed tower, barely remembering to scoop up his duffle before departing.

Val’s left hand automatically opened the heavy door to the ground floor, not letting go of the boy’s arm with his other as he pulled him inside the museum. All around, a colorful array of artifacts clamored for attention while the empty casement at the center hovered idle.

“There will be time for this later. You need your sleep, too,” whispered Valentin despite the pair being the only ones in the tower.

“Rome,” said the pale boy as he approached the blue velvet rope barring entry up the tower’s stairwell. He unchinked the rope’s hook and let go of the boy’s arm, looking up into electric blue eyes. “Please come with me.” Valentin moved to the side to let the other boy through.

If Romeo followed, Valentin would snap the rope end back into its nook the way Sergei always insisted that he remember. Val hurried up the stairs, but never let Romeo lag far behind again without patiently waiting. The pair climbed several stories, each containing its own sets of rooms: a private gym, an office full of fan gifts and mail, a room for his language tutors stacked from floor to ceiling with bookshelves. The majority of its tomes were in English, but a clever eye scanning the desk might spot an errant dictionary and two textbooks in Italian. The next floor up opened into a broader personal library, conspicuously lacking the quidditch literature that resided in the ground-floor museum for public in-house use. The sixth floor opened into a luxurious private bathroom with the usual installations as well as a black-marble gold-clawed tub that looked like it had never seen use, as well as a broad shower area where hung a single black Turkish towel. At last, they climbed to the seventh floor, which opened up wide below the domed ceiling.

The dome itself was, indeed, crafted of pure crystal. The countless facets of its surface not only allowed in the natural light from outside, but amplified it. Leaning in close, one could make out individual stars refracting through the prismatic architecture. Rainbow shards of light shot across the room, subtle against transparent surfaces but streaking brightly across the room’s minimalist opaque surfaces.

“I was a kid, alright?” complained Valentin. “I was five and my parents asked me what kind of tower I wanted. I went and said I wanted a rainbow one where I could live in the sky and always see the stars. They went and made this,” he lamented, palm covering his face. “The towers are all separate so that people can play music at any hour without bothering anyone else..." he continued, looking towards the outside.

An arabesque diamond archway to the left opened onto a balcony beyond that curled around the external edge of the building, while at the center of the room a pile of black and grey furs covered a large round cushion woven from black-on-black geodesically-patterned cotton. A curved sword poked out from under the edge of the cushion’s far side, while only one black pillow sat at the center.

Along the back wall hung invisibility cloth curtains, lazily pulled half-closed, revealing first a tall black walnut dresser bearing a mirror framed by Turkic arches. Across the top of the dresser, a trio of vases held three dozen stargazer lilies of the Siberia variant. A cool night breeze passed through the room, refreshing the air only to be pushed back by the assertive indole of the pure white flowers.

“The fans send them…” explained Valentin, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

At the center of the dresser sat a small bakhoor incense burner, apparently the source of the fragrance of sinking agarwood oud that clung to the furs and fabrics around the room. Along the opposite wall stood a strikingly damaged and old upright piano.

The piano's weathered dark wood bore deep-gouging scars while its numerous chipped keys peppered one of the only opaque white surfaces around. Compared to the grand piano in the complex’s main building, this one seemed more like a lost orphan than an expected resident of the estate.

Between the piano and the dresser, more lazily drawn-open invisibility curtains revealed a truly expansive four-poster bed decked with all-black curtains, Egyptian cotton sheets, and a feather duvet.

“I don’t sleep well if I feel confined,” explained Val’s downcast voice. “But then, you know…. I’m… I’m tired of not being able to reach you fast when I want to talk with you. It takes forever to find you in the other building, and usually it’s at weird hours that I think of the camp planning that I really need your help with… Why don’t you bunk up here with me? I can take this spot here in the middle, and you can have the bed. Half the time I sleep either on the rugs or on the roof anyway. This would be better for the team. What do you say?”

Valentin looked up with bent hope in his eyes, as if he had experienced a number of disappointments and wished that at least this would go right. The boy deposited his duffle bag next to the stairwell and shrugged off the cloak from his shoulder to lay it over the furs beneath the room’s apex.

“You can put stuff in that dresser alongside mine if you feel like it, or actually, just take and use my stuff as if it were yours, okay? Otherwise, you can just make yourself at home here however you want...” said Val, extending a key out in his right hand. “Actually, I… told Sergei that you were going to be my personal martial arts trainer. If you still want to do that, then…. Well… I want you to earn the right to stay here even next year, and during the breaks, by teaching me more. Please. It would make Sergei feel better if I had a...” Valentin considered his words for a moment, but shaking his head, he couldn’t excuse holding back the whole truth. “Look, after my mother’s murder… Sergei has been on me every day about getting a bodyguard. I told him it’s not necessary. I’m not as famous as she was. It’s why he put these curtains over the bed, as if I were going to use them to hide myself every night. At least now you can use them for privacy. You see, he’s a real worrier. So if you could, please… be my martial arts trainer and teach me, and then he can pretend that I have a bodyguard and maybe everyone can be happy.”

Valentin tipped his head to bury his small smile before turning towards the arch leading to the balcony outside.

“There’s something out here I want to show you, too, before you get some sleep... Do you…” he began, but hesitated. Don’t do this, Valik, he thought. Yet, he couldn’t stop now. His words had already broken a path for the rest to follow. “Do you want to know my secret dream?”

Stats: STA 8 ✦ EVA 13 ✧ STR 2 ✦ WIS 15 ✧ARC 1 ✦ ACC 15 - Ency
Abilities: Keen Eye ✦ Charmer ✧ Evasive Maneuvers ✦ Fearless

★ Valentin's Ency ☆ ☄ койрыклы йолдыз килә-ә ☄ ☽ Aida's Ency ☾

21 Aug 2022, 02:10

¤ | Ω | ¤

Nec Temere, Nec Timide.
Durmstrang Institute's
Romeo Giovanni Marchonné

"English."
"Italiano. Italian."
"Russian."
| Faint scar on left eye & mangled right ear |
\ Fingerless Glove on Right hand /
| Lichtenberg figure on right arm and down back |

Valetin Schnell
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

Shivering a bit at the cool of night that begins to set in, I smile towards Val and the excitement of both taking time to bond with the rest of the team and being able to fly with them in the upcoming quidditch game in London Stadium again.

But when he presents the broom to me, I can't help but blanch for a moment before immediately trying to find the right words for what I feel in the moment. My mouth opens and closes a few times as I try to formulate the right way to express these conflicting feelings of gratefulness and also the feeling that... there was no way that I could deserve this gift, no matter the intentions that lay behind it.

I numbly take the broom in both hands, feeling the smooth ebony handle and the running a gentle hand on the pale birch bristles. My fingertip gently traces the goblin ironwork, and I become aware of the incredible antiqueness that lay in my grasp. The frog returns, and I find myself blinking quickly as I try to finally formulate my words. "Val... I... I don't deserve this. I... can't take this from you, from your heirlooms. I'm a stranger in your house, to your family." I was nothing compared to this gift, in actuality. This broom likely had more family significance and history than I did. My life... I had come from seemingly nowhere, had traveled ceaselessly from town to town and country to country, household to household. Always a location, but never a home. The only constant, my twin, has been jeopardized, for reasons that were known to only him and God. I was nothing. Especially compared to the history that this broom held in its fine craftsmanship. It had a purpose.

What exactly was mine, again?

"I'm... a stranger. A vagabond. You once said it yourself." I look down at it, letting out a tense sigh as I fight with myself over the means and the purpose of the gift, even if it was a gift. My brows furrow once more, a facial expression that seemed to be becoming more and more typical for me these past few months of frustration and deliberation. "Val... I don't know what to say... I don't... I can't deserve_"

A whistling of fireworks overhead cause me to turn my attention aside from the broom and Valetin, focusing fully on the sudden explosions of color that cause me to squint from their splendor. I had seen fireworks before, most notably at the Carnival in Venice, but somehow in the chill of night, the clarity of sky, the stars and scythe of a crescent moon shining in tandem overhead, they seemed brighter than usual. Their light drowned out the tumultuous whirlwind of thought, encouraging me to cease my fretting over the concerns of "why" and "should I"s...

The colors... the sights... I remembered when I saw fireworks like these for the first time; the marvel of how they whistled and popped, streaking across the sky as swiftly as my brother an I raced through the woods or across our back yards. We hadn't had a care in the world.

It seemed so far away now. A bittersweet taste rises in my mouth, the colors blurring and seeming to glitter brighter through a clear sheen that clouded the skies and the immediate world around me. They transformed from sparks to orbs, that blazed with light before slowly fading into nothingness. My breath catches at the awe of it, the display, and there is total silence between Val and I as the fireworks explode and speak thousands of words among themselves, booming out their unintelligible words to the Aurora Borealis and anyone that could hear (even if they didn't want to).

Only when the whistling slowly faded, as the light show came to a close, did I blink again quickly, the fuzziness of my sights gradually fading away as the world darkens, sending dark spots before my eyes as I release another deep breath, shaking my head and focusing my gaze on the Firebolt I carefully cradle in both arms, as if it would break across the ground if my grip slipped on it for even a moment.

A soft hand took my by the arm, pulling me towards himself, and my gaze flicks up back to Valetin with a small start as my thoughts are interrupted and I am forced back into the present and the reality of the world around me. Wordlessly, I let him take me, guiding me to the great crystal tower that he had initially emerged from with the Firebolt. I can barely believe the things unfolding before me, cannot quite react the way that I think or that I want to react...

It was immediately apparent that this antique broom was far from the only precious item that the Schnell family flaunted in the incredible museum that Valetin permitted my entrance to. Though I had nowhere near as keen an eye as Valtin, or my brother for that matter (I was more suited for calculating a known trajectory of a visible object and guessing its pattern of flight or movement), tens of things sparkled in the lighting of the museum, each of them whispering with rich histories and unknown stories upon their placards. Were I in a less stunned state of mind, I would have drifted to each, drinking in their histories and the places that they had been, just like myself.

But Valetin beckons me to somewhere else (his voice almost echoing in the open museum despite the quiet whisper of his words), to somewhere different. A velvet rope that bars off a stairwell spiraling up and upwards. It seems to almost spiral up to the heavens themselves, round and round upon itself, casting small gleams of light from overhead. Val's swift steps are light and airy compared to my slower decent, taking the railing with a hand and ensuring that between my awe and the sharpness of the curves that I do not lose my footing. Yet, he continues to wait for me despite my slow and steady pace, and eventually I catch up to him after taking in the sights of each of the floors. Offices, gym, study, library (had that been a blurb of Italian in a book off to the side there?), bathroom... the tower seemed endless and enormous in its magnificence.

And it opened up into something that I could only describe as the interior of a crystal ball. Through it the stars seemed to be splintered into fractals, small glitters of reflected light and prismatic colors were cast along the ground and the dressings of both a simple and elegant room. Pillows and furs were strewn across the center of the floor, though a bed with drawn curtains lay by one of the translucent walls. The scent of lilies and incense pervaded the room, a sweet, if intoxicating scent, and silence seemed to ring like a bell in the immediate vicinity... as if it would be a sin to speak and break the sacred quiet. I am almost frightened to breathe, lest the action of drawing breath be too great a source of sound.

The odd duck, the weathered piano with chips and scratches, catches my eye as being the most humble item of this room. Yet, although weathered and worn, it carries a dignified aura to it, a sort of quiet pride that it belonged among fanciful and exotic counterparts. To be honest, instruments always carried that charm; the older they became, the more they were used, the more the world moved around them, the more it was treasured. Good things came with age.

Val tries to explain away the beauty of this highest tower by claiming that it was the product of a childish whim, but all I can do is continue to marvel at it, still holding the Firebolt at my side as I slowly turn in a circle to see every angle of the room and the light that dances through it.

"It's... gorgeous, Val." I say breathlessly, forgetting Russian for a moment as I continue to ogle at the richness of all of this. It was mind boggling for me, a kid who had never seen, let alone dreamed of things such as this. Magic had only recently been made known, and a world with magic still seemed incredible and impossible. "I... could never have dreamed of this... in all... all of my wildest dreams." I confessed aloud. I shake my head.

So when Val suggests that I room alongside him here, I once again find myself wondering if I had properly heard him correctly. Stay... up here... in Val's childhood terrace?

I mean... his logic for it made sense. It would make communications easier between us, it would be more efficient for him and I.

For the good of the team...

"Val..." I start, before hesitating as his eyes pierce into mine. God, he looked just like Piérre whenever that kid got in trouble. Those pleading eyes. The eyes that almost taunted you to say no and then reap the consequences of their sadness. There was no way for me to say no.

And then the statement that sealed the deal was offered; an opportunity to become a bodyguard, to teach self defense. I knew that Valetin shared very little of his parents, and because of that I didn't pry. My thoughts had always lain in "don't ask, don't tell". This newfound knowledge, even as sudden and severe, though vague and certainly opening the dam towards further questions... Made me think about just how similar Val and I were despite economic differences between us. But it wasn't my job to ask or pry, it was by job to listen and be... well... a good person in whatever this strange relationship was.

Still, I couldn't deny that there wasn't at least a little bit of truth in the words of the sometimes standoffish, yet extremely invested guardian. "Sergei isn't completely misguided. Your physical wellbeing is important, no matter how well you are known." I finally state bluntly, still not entirely recovered from everything that I have seen and experienced thus far. I hesitate for only a moment before putting a hand on Val's shoulder, briefly considering cupping my hand under his chin before I think better of it and satiate myself with this more polite sort of physical contact. "Val, if I can soothe your mind in any way just by being here for you-- bodyguard or peer-- then I would gladly teach you all that I know, and be there whenever you need me. Whenever you need me, and especially if you are in danger."

Did I understand the implications of my own words? No. I understood them by definition... but not by what they meant to me personally.

Valetin turns his attention towards the balcony, and my gaze turns to it in turn.

"Do you want to know my secret dream?"

I consider it for a moment, as to if I deserved to know the dreams of my captain or if I was the right person to share these dreams with. After a moment of internal debate, I finally resign myself to a small chuckle. "Only if you want to share it with me as well." A smile.

Why did I feel this way? A rare feeling, as if I was truly at home...

Reducio
Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 7 | Strength 15 Ω
Ω Accuracy 14 | Wisdom 9 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω

21 Aug 2022, 19:17

His broad hand on Valentin’s shoulder, Romeo captured the boy’s gaze as he spoke. "Val, if I can soothe your mind in any way just by being here for you-- bodyguard or peer-- then I would gladly teach you all that I know, and be there whenever you need me. Whenever you need me, and especially if you are in danger."

Silver-amethyst eyes gazed back into Romeo’s electric blue as Valentin stood, hypnotized and calmed by the lullaby promising protection. Valentin didn’t have to believe Sergei’s words, not logically, but his heart had read his face well enough. There was more going on than met the eye. Yet, the power Sergei had, influencing Valentin to ask this of Romeo… it was nothing compared to how deeply and truly Valentin wanted this himself. Slowly closing his eyes, Valentin draped his lightning-scarred palm over Romeo’s hand on his shoulder. It was warm. So warm, enough that a spark caught inside him. Valentin dropped his hand and flung open his eyes with a hot blush. Dangerous, said Valentin’s mind as his breathing escalated. What if I like danger? asked his impish child mind in return. Reaching forward, Valya slipped the key to the crystal tower into Romeo’s pocket. It was easy, simply pickpocketing in reverse, only not concealed in any way.

“I would be… so happy, if you would. Thank you,” rolled Valentin in English, bowing his head like a hippogriff. He had said the words, asking Romeo himself, and yet he still couldn’t believe this was happening. This was far too lucky. How was this supernaturally beautiful moment even possible, after so many years of pained isolation? That’s what it was− surreal, like a dream coming true that he scarcely believed he deserved. Unbelievable. Yet, Romeo’s hand rested secure on his shoulder, a reminder of constancy to this reality. As the touch lingered, Valentin began to believe in Rome’s promise. Such a suggestion wouldn’t vaporize as quickly, fickly as a wave in the sea, right?

Valya didn’t think about why he continued on in English. The words just fell out of him like rain from a cloud.

“I’m here for you, too. Maybe I am thin, and maybe my spells aren’t hardest hitting, but I have patience and feeling to work magic reliably for you. I never had a strong relationship with a wand before, but my tactics… I know that with my strategy and dependable spells, I can summon great situational power to defend you and… your brother…” Valentin glanced down, hardly knowing what he was saying. He barely knew anything about Piérre, but it hardly seemed to matter. Val sensed the connection between the two twins from the unspoken context behind Romeo’s previous words and actions. However troubled the relationship may have been, to the point of Romeo losing part of his ear and the audible pain lingering in words about his brother, Valentin felt the twins’ connection to be important. As such, Val’s allegiance to one was also sworn to the other by virtue of the pair’s unbroken, if tumultuous, bond.

Valentin nodded. It was important for him to say that to Romeo, so that he would know and understand.

“Do you want to know my secret dream?” said Valya, turning towards the balcony arch.

"Only if you want to share it with me as well," came Rome’s response. Valentin turned to look back at the boy. He needed to show him with his eyes, but as Valentin’s gaze moved, so pivoted his body to face the boy again.

“I know I move fast, but…” blushed the seeker, wanting to explain a truth he hardly understood, himself. “the…” His English faltering, Valentin dropped back into Russian. “My path…” Valentin extended two fingertips until they hovered over the rightmost arc of muscle spanning the other boy’s chest, only an inch away. “Is as sure as lightning falling to earth. You know, as it descends, the leader stroke of lightning from a cloud is met by a bolt coming out from the ground. The leader and upward streamer… when the bolts from the sky and the ground connect, it’s lightning. From the meeting place comes a bright flash in the return stroke. There can be lightning launched from the ground into the heavens, too, and…” Valentin chuckled, knowing he might sound crazy. What are you on about? he asked himself. Yet, Valentin’s eyes followed the vector of his arm suspended in midair. The silvery Lichtenberg figure scar wrapping around his arm interwove with the blue veins extending down his forearm, vivid through the boy’s pale skin. As if looking past the skin and bone, Valentin envisioned electricity pulsating across the chambers of Romeo’s heart, as it must have been, for Romeo was alive. So wonderfully alive.

However the other boy responded, Valentin would raise his gaze to the level of Romeo’s eyes. Yes, he did want to share the details of his dream with the other. Valya smiled, then squinted, sure that he had seen some little boy inside the other’s eyes for a moment. Pure, unadulterated, untamed: the raw soul of another. The corners of Valya’s eyes and lips curled, and he turned to head out onto the balcony.

Stepping out of the crystal dome onto its circular overhang, Valentin leaned over the glass rail overlooking an untrammeled expanse of wilderness that sprawled out from the estate’s garden edges. It was as if the manor held a protective barrier around the land and rivers, extending off into the distance as it prevented encroachment from the developed outside world. Val had told their team the area around the manor was dangerous. Within its reach, the Schnell wildlands preserved the freedom of life of all shapes to carry on without human manipulation. From so high up, the panorama laid itself bare before the boys’ eyes, hiding nothing, but layered with such complexity that the only way to truly know it was to dirty ones boots in exploration. The mysteries of the landscape beckoned in the glint of moon silver off forest-rimmed lakes, the dark holes in cliffside crevices, and the subtle variations of color across the vegetation whispering of diverse species within. With such an unbroken expanse of wilderness and the magical wards at its borders repelling unwanted muggle visitation, the Schnell lands formed natural reserves for not only native biota, but magical lifeforms as well.

Reducio

Staring at the far peak of a sheer wall of rock, Valentin’s mind wandered.

«Никогда. Я тебя тоже никогда не отпущу.» (“Never. I’m never letting you go, either,”) said the memory. Shaking his head, Valentin knew he had been forgetting something. The pale boy returned inside for a moment to retrieve his fur-lined cloak from the center of the room and brought it over to the easily-chilled Italian.

“Please hold this a moment,” asked Valentin. “I’ll tell you my dream, but please follow me up first.” Stepping back out onto the overhang, the lean seeker bent his knees and leapt up to grab the rim of the minaret’s pointed dome. In one, swift motion he pulled himself up onto its ledge and turned to squat down with his right hand extended down. “Okay, please pass me the cloak and your broom, then come join me.” Val smiled back with calm reassurance. “It’s okay. It’s tetrahedral crystal. It will bear your weight. Just watch your step so you don’t slip. Don’t worry. I’ll have the broom right here. I won’t let any harm come to you. Besides, you’re strong and capable,” smiled Valya, recalling the memory of the other’s pull-ups. The curved lip of the ledge provided an ample jug for an easy climb.

[Presumably] receiving the items from Romeo, Valentin held them with his off hand to keep his main hand ready to help if the other boy needed him on the way up. Once it was clear that Romeo had gained safe footing on the dome’s ledge, Valentin’s shoulders dropped slightly with relaxation as the corners of his eyes whispered a premonition of a grin.

“I find the curve of this roof very pleasing on the back, actually,” remarked the slender boy, demonstrating by hooking his legs over a higher right-angle ledge and laying back onto the curved crystal dome to face the sky. His irises tracked Romeo from the corners of his eyes and he patted the spot next to him in an invitation to sit. If the other boy chose to sit, Valentin would smile from ear to ear. The shapes of the building would greet them both with such a surreal, cradling fit that one could swear it was designed to be leaned against. The angles joined at just the right configuration to allow one to sink their entire weight into the structure without any feeling of slipping away, including a dedicated platform for one’s feet. If the experience were not prohibitively frightening already, one could even feel comfortable tucked into the dome’s arabesque structure. That said, if someone unprepared were to look down, a dangerous sense of vertigo could overcome them.

If Romeo laid down, Valentin would scoot closer to lay his cloak over the top of the other boy to keep him from getting cold. The cloak’s silver fur lining seemed to glow blue at its tips, as it only ever did under the open night sky. Valentin held a small portion of its edge over himself, not actually cold but simply enjoying the softness of the fur itself. It had plenty of material for even a boy as large as Romeo.

“If you look inside the dome, it looks really cool… shining from within like a star in space…” whispered Valentin, turning his head to look. The dome’s fractured rainbows glowed bright through its bezel facets, blooming through white light to shimmer like a fire opal. “But the best part is up there…” continued the seeker, gazing back up at the hazy weaves of shadow and light forming the belt of the Milky Way. Valentin raised the Firebolt in one hand and pointed to a metallic inset in the shape of an arrowhead where the goblin ironwork met the broom’s ebony handle.

“I’ll tell you about this part,” said Valya, offering the broom back to Romeo.

“One night, I was up on the roof, just like we are now. A huge meteor shower, the biggest I’ve ever seen, came streaming down. It seemed to go on forever, hundreds, I don’t know, thousands of falling stars… and then came down a fireball, so luminous that it hurt my eyes. It was like a falling sun, so blinding. Then, after a minute came a huge crash. The whole tower shook and I thought I might fall, but I held on, right here…” Valentin bumped his foot against the ledge next to Romeo’s feet. “I swung back into my room and ran to tell my father, and he found me at the tower door at the bottom. He was already on his old Oakshaft, a relic of his youth at Durmstrang. I’d never seen him use it before. Papka said to get on, and so I did, and he flew me over the estate until we found where the meteor crashed. It landed in a lake, which seemed to be boiling with steam… After we recovered it, the thing was actually quite small, or at least the chunk we found was only the size of an apple. Papka had a lapidiary take a piece of it out and set it in this arrowhead you see here, just for me. On my next birthday he gave me this Firebolt and we decided that, even though it was an artifact of Durmstrang, because it was mine now I could do what I wanted with it. We took it back to Spudmore and his shop set the meteorite into its base here. Three months later, Papka was gone, like my mother. The rest of the rock is in his tower, over there… One day you can see his room, left exactly as it was on the day he was taken away in shackles, just like the piano bench he almost knocked over when he heard about my mother.” Valentin closed his eyes and turned his head as if to look at Romeo through his white-lashed eyelids. For a moment, the boy just listened, even if the other boy remained silent.

“It was Christmas day, almost two years ago, when they took him. It shook me pretty hard, especially after the loss in London earlier that summer. I guess it was since then I started trying to do everything myself, carrying more and more of the weight of others in order to keep moving forward. I didn’t even know Leonid when I was told to treat him like my new father. He’s always so busy anyway, just like my parents had become. Sergei was really the one to take care of me then, but I felt like he was so damaged from it all that I really needed to be taking care of him. He felt so guilty, blamed himself for everything when it was really… no, forget it… just, after New Year’s I got to thinking about what my friend, Aida said. That kid’s like an orphan, spent a lot of time on the streets and living off of nature, and yet… I… without my parents, I came to think about what it must be like for kids who didn’t even have everything I have. This crazy estate. Aida grew up on a remote ranch with basically nothing other than a burning need to take care of animals, and for them, that was always enough. I liked that, and I’ve always felt so bad that my family has… that I have so much. I tried to hide from estate duties for a long time, but then when I made up my mind, I tried to take control over the manor’s finances… but Leonid wouldn’t let me. He says I can’t have that power until I graduate. I was mad, but there’s some legal reason apparently. Whenever I look at Aida I see a bit of myself, if I had been born into poverty without parents. The kid had to grow up too fast, doesn’t play enough, and is always on about being useful to others. At least I got to have parents for as long as I did. It hurts to think that Aida is alone right now. I don’t want other kids to be alone like I’ve been, losing their parents and the security in their lives. I want the children to play. Often I think Aida is right to hate grown-ups. Society asks us to give up so much of our souls. I want to make a place where people can be free, like all that wilderness out there. If I can just take care of some kids before their spirits get all adulterated… if I could just make a haven here where they'd be protected enough to find themselves without so much manipulation… then maybe they wouldn't grow up alone. My dream is to turn this estate into an orphanage one day. Think of all the fun the kids could have, getting into trouble out there in the woods and caves. At least Aida had the backcountry to play in, but now…” Valentin shook his head. Opening his eyes, the seeker observed the look on Romeo’s face and rolled onto his side to face the other boy.

“I’m really grateful that you’ll take the Firebolt. I made a wish on that falling star, you know.” Valentin giggled silently in the back of his throat, jostling slightly with the movement as he smiled. “And if you’ll stay here, for as long as you want… then I’ll be very happy. Sergei, too. Please, I know I can go very fast, but… I want for what’s mine to be yours. It’s like I said. You won’t regret it, I promise. This is what I want, so long as you want it, too.”

Valya’s amethyst eyes traced the angles of the boy’s face until they settled back onto his blue eyes. “This can be your home, if you choose it.” The seeker rolled onto his back again to face the stars. Overhead, a shooting star streaked across the sky, but Valentin could barely see it through the amassing tears he struggled to keep inside his eyes.

Stats: STA 8 ✦ EVA 13 ✧ STR 2 ✦ WIS 15 ✧ARC 1 ✦ ACC 15 - Ency
Abilities: Keen Eye ✦ Charmer ✧ Evasive Maneuvers ✦ Fearless

Last edited by Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood on 11 Dec 2022, 00:54, edited 1 time in total.

★ Valentin's Ency ☆ ☄ койрыклы йолдыз килә-ә ☄ ☽ Aida's Ency ☾

9 Dec 2022, 04:00

¤ | Ω | ¤

Nec Temere, Nec Timide.
Durmstrang Institute's
Romeo Giovanni Marchonné

"English."
"Italiano. Italian."
"Russian."
| Faint Scar on Left Eye & Mangled Right Ear |
\ Fingerless Glove on Right Hand /
| Lichtenberg Figure on Right Arm and Down Back |

Valentin Schnell
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

Somehow, the longer and longer Valentin spoke, he always seemed to look more and more like a highly anxious puppy. I mean this in only the most endearing of ways, of course, but it was impossible to not take note of the nervous energy that he presented as he spoke of lightning and how it struck the earth so precisely and beautifully; collected from both the clouds and the grounds to create a singular fork that could split the heavens and produce one of the most powerful forces of energy known to the known universe. My eyes traced towards where Valentin's fingertips dared to almost brush. I deserved it, I supposed, having initiated contact by placing my hand on Valentin's shoulder first... but that didn't seem to stop the sensation from seeming strangely and almost uncomfortably intimate. Almost.

Valentin had slipped a key into my pocket; the key to this tower? I couldn't even collect the words to complain at the Seeker as he continued. The way his fingers danced in the air, fluttered about as if the immediate space around me were an instrument he was trying to play, to compose with. Evidently a child of the arts (I certainly wasn't myself, that was more of my brother's forte), I knew that Valentin was clever with his precise dexterity, that every minute movement that he made had a significance and a purpose to it. Every maneuver in Quidditch, every lunge and weave in sparring; these had significance to the ultimate dance that Valentine performed, the great masterpiece that he always seemed to be innovating and perfecting. A performance enthralling and confusing all at one; one that had layers and depth that had to be delved into and unraveled from the inside like any good story or composition. Not merely a conduit of entertainment, but of distinct emotional and-- dare I say it-- sometimes philosophical significance.

"Wands can be cheeky." I respond with an attempted candor at Valentin's pledge of allegiance to my brother and I; yes, I knew Valentin to be the type to leap head first into something and only later come to rethink his actions, but those words in particular had thrown me for a loop. For some reason I felt that though he wasn't lying, I was unsure in what way he intended to make good on these promises. "My own spells are... not... very... powerful either, you know." Though I could consistently summon arcane magics, my ability to deal significant power with them was far more than lacking. "But wands can always be exchanged, replaced, bonded with. Maybe you just haven't found your perfect partner yet." That was what I remembered being told by others, that a wand and a wizard was only as powerful as their bond was. This was something I thought about frequently with my wand and my twin's. Our identical twin wands... Yet, there was an obvious power difference between the two of them. My brother's wand was much more powerful than mine; stronger, more bonded. Perhaps... "I am not entirely convinced that my own wand is well-bonded with me. Despite it being an identical twin, it has nowhere near the amount of prowess that Piérre holds with his." I continued to watch Valentin's hand. "Perhaps I have yet to find my true partner as well... Just like lightning finding its partner when it splits the skies."

Valentin turns away and leaves for the balcony, leaving me momentarily stunned as I stood still for a moment, feeling the weight of the newly placed key in my pocket. Licking my lips once, I turn towards him as well, following almost like a puppy myself in curiosity of what other splendid and incredible things would unfold before me tonight. What other part of the performance would I have the honor to witness tonight? What mysteries would I discover, would I delve into and interpret?

Rubbing my arms a bit and shuddering once to accustom myself to the chill, I beheld the wild landscape of the Russian forests. So many places to explore, so many places to trek and hike; places that I would safely lead my team through during the events that I had planned for them, a place that I needed to scout one more time to ensure that it would be a safe location for a camping out... It was frigid beauty; gorgeous, but cold. Frozen but awe-inspiring. A cold wind whipped my hair back causing me to squint my eyes shut to prevent their watering too much. It had been a long time-- too long, I felt-- since I had been home in warm Mediterranean Italy or other places similar. The place of my origins, the place I had seemingly appeared out of nowhere from. My brother and I both.

Valentin departs once more, collecting a silvery cloak from inside before returning and proceeding to quickly scamper up the side after I take it from him per his wishes. Glancing up after the much more agile seeker, I hesitate for a moment as Valentin asks for me to follow him up the side of the tower and onto the roof. I doubted that I could do that; whereas Valentin was light and able to spread his body weight on the potentially breakable crystal, I was quite the opposite. Built like a dense boxer, I feared that my weight spread across my poise would result in exceeding a pressure threshold on the tower... and that I would break it; break the precious childhood creation of my seeker, my friend. But... as always, Valentin assured me, told me that there wasn't anything to fear. Despite a singular complaint of; "Are you sure?", I finally caved. Using my height to my advantage, I stretch as far upwards as I could, carefully handing off the items to Valentin now safely perched at the top of the tower before trying to spot the most secure places for me to put my weight.

Blowing into my hands once to warm up my fingers, I shook out my arms and then gently selected my first hand and footholds. With surprising ease, I spot even the smallest cracks that I can manage to put my hiking boots into, flattening the arches of my feet against the wall for maximum grip like a mountain goat as my admittedly frozen fingers fought for grips on the more protruding edges. With a few quick mixes of lunges and almost leaps, I finally hoist myself over the edge of the roof and with the use of my upper body manage to drag myself up and over, taking a seat on the edge with my feet dangling over and blowing into my hands once again to warm them from the chill of gripping pure crystal. "You were right, this stuff is sturdy... I'll try not to doubt you again like that."

Valentin took his place in a casual laying position, yet it carried with it a playfulness that I remember seeing frequently in my brother; that sore of carefree-ness as if there was nothing to fear despite literally being on the edge of a very very very tall tower. Having been invited by him to sit nearby, I scooting away from the edge only a tad and take up a position beside Valentin. Though not quite confident to attempt "trust falling" into the tower's architecture, I satiate myself with comfortably leaning against it with elbows on my knees and my back against a part of the tower that I deemed totally secure for my means. Bringing my knees to my chest, I ensured that my core stayed warm despite the arctic temperatures. I would not be able to stay out for very long, but even if my body complained, I didn't think that I would back down. Not until I had finally helped Valentin in whatever way he needed.

At his suggestion to look at the tower from where I perched, I did just that; observing the beauty of the chromatic rainbow that glittered and gleamed even in the faintest star and moonlight. I could only imagine what it would look like during the day; likely shining like a diamond on its own and able to be seen from kilometers around. "It must look like a diamond when the sunlight hits it right." I remark, closing my eyes once more as I took a deep breath, my breath misting before me ever so slightly as I tried to relax and let the tranquil beauty of Russia surround me. I open my eyes only when Valentin pointed out the beautifully visible Milky Way; a sight that I could never see where there was light pollution like in the major cities of Italy or the many urban cities of London. This was the clearest that I had ever seen the milky way besides being lucky when glancing outside the spire casually.

Valentin got to see it on a nightly basis here in the wildlands of the north.

And this was where the conversation took an equally beautiful and dark twist; the tale of the origins of the strange arrowhead placed into the Firebolt, in reality a fragment of a meteorite refined and reclaimed. A piece of the heavens itself that had fallen to Earth in flaming glory. Something that united the realms of God and that of man. So incredibly statistically unlikely, the size of the meteorite, the location of where it had landed, the chances of being able to reclaim a piece of this size. So many things must have aligned just perfectly in order to create something so beautiful and unique. Despite myself, I feel myself piqued by the story, leaning in as if Valentin would dare to trail off and not divulge the entire history of the strange element. My eyes widen ever so slightly and fix Valetin with completely enraptured attention.

These stories, these tales, these legends, myths, memories. These shaped the experiences and the outlook of the people they belonged to... and even as Valentin opened his gates; spoke of things I never knew of his home life... I continued to lean forward ever so slightly and listen to him with wide open eyes and ears, brows creased ever so slightly in both concern, disbelief, wonder, and a mixture of guilt and curiosity... A beautiful dream, an honest one. One that did strike me personally. and caused me to tip my head and avert my gaze in thought.

But my question for some reason was; why now?

Why now was I being told these things? These sensitive, secretive, almost skeletons in the closet of one of my closest friend? Did I deserve to know these things in the first place? Up to now I never really questioned the lives of my fellow classmates; perhaps this was because I preferred my own origins to be left unshared and unbothered. My history was not as important as the things which occurred and had to be executed in the moment. Perhaps... I had assumed that a life like my own was normal in some way; the unconscious idea that having a life that was that of a wanderer and of a constantly moving body was in some way normal. I had never questioned it... but the longer that I beheld this estate, this house... The knowledge that just like Valentin, just like so many others; children had houses, had families that they knew well and reunited lovingly with. Had departed family members that they mourned and fretted over... "That is a beautiful dream, Valentin. A pure one. And I know that you'll achieve it. You really do achieve everything you put your mind to; like... convincing me and so many others to rejoin the team. This wild land would indeed be perfect for it; if this camp is any indication." A smile. "I know you don't like hearing it, but... patience is a virtue. Your time will come; if that's truly what you want for your life, then take it by the horns."

But, unlike warm Valentin's heart; particularly when concerning his family and the found families he intended to create, I felt much more dampened in emotivism. Nothing to the extent of extreme grief; even when my Muggle parents had died seven years ago. No grieving, no mourning besides the small ache in my heart when I remembered the day. It had simply been another motion; another brushing away of the house I thought I could have. Another memory to box up and put aside for sorting and referral at a later time.

Why was it now that I realized that these thoughts were unnatural? Why not before? Why only now, in the presence of my seeker, at his own home, with his found family?

How did I begin?

"... Losing someone you love is... difficult." Perhaps that was the best way to start; perhaps the only way. I swallowed tightly before sniffing and wiping my nose quickly to warm the beginnings of Jack Frost's nipping there. "It isn't something that mends quickly, or at least I don't feel that it should. And everyone experiences grief differently, there is nothing wrong with that. I..." Was any of this being insensitive towards Valentin or his feelings on any of these matters? Just how differently could the two of us think on topics such as these? I... truthfully didn't know. I had managed to pick up his little slipup, that intonation that it seemed so many young children (particularly those with divorced and shattered households) carried heavily on their shoulders; that cruel blame of self. "... don't blame yourself for whatever happened. You can't control the world, it's simply not our-- our being us as children-- it isn't a child's place. If there is any constant in human nature, it's that while we search for direction as best we can in this world on our own... in the end, we look towards something far more supernatural to serve as an aiming point, the real thing that knows what is 'going on'." I remembered the Conferenza Episcopale Italiana in the trunk that I had brought with me. Truth be told, religion had been an important part of mine and by brother's stability; the constant knowledge that there was something to aspire for, to believe in. We had simply been raised with it, and when times got tough-- as corny or as silly as it sounded-- I had recited prayers aloud, especially after transferring to Durmstrang and having to learn a brand new language while also passing my tests.

Words were spilling from me too quickly for me to decide; a dam breaking down faster than I could stop up the places that I wanted to prevent from leaking; Valentin had opened himself up to me, and I found myself doing the same in return. "My parents, though they loved me and Piérre so much... were never... really... our parents. I always knew, even from the beginning, that I wasn't their blood and bone. A nagging sensation, a sort of strange unsettling feeling. They loved us so much, but I couldn't quite reciprocate it. I knew that I didn't belong to them. And that... made me wonder..." What do I say? What do I say?!

There was a light buzzing in both my ears as I tried to rapidly formulate thoughts. "It made me wonder a few things, especially after they... left... prematurely." They had been young, even by some parenting standards; no older than their early 30s. "And Maddie? She means well, but she's... well..." I chuckle as I recall the stoic former Auror and her grizzled nature. Over 90 years, she must be... and still kicking. "She's old enough to be our grandmother, even if she means well." I'm starting to fumble, to keep spilling too many words. Far too many words... "I wish, so unlike your dreams, that I had the ability to have a place to call my own. I've been in too many places, too many cities and countries. I'm tired of travel; I just want to finally settle down and call one place a home." "You say that I can call this place my home, but... I don't know where I'm from. Who I'm from." I finally announced loudly, permanently, firmly. How can I call somewhere a home if I don't even know where my heart should be? How can I even begin to dream that I deserve something like that?"

That was the long and short of it. That I didn't deserve what was being offered to me; not even my own surname.

"Even 'Marchonné' is bullshit. It's a totally bullshit name. Piérre came up with it after he found out we were adopted and we kept it because we liked it. It's an Italianized pun of 'leader' from a Latin title 'Marchio' or feminine 'Marchionissa' In English, this would be the equivalent of Marquess(m.), Marchioness(f.) but the common surname 'Marchon' ironically means "Destiny" or "Luck". It's our legal name... but it isn't my real fucking name." I spit as I rubbed my hands anxiously, my brow furrowing. "Why did I never question this before? Why did I feel like this was normal in any sense of the imagination; a false name, adoption, moving around and not having a permanent home... What part of that is normal? Why do I pretend like it was?"

My mind bubbled with new thoughts and I quickly felt myself spiraling into them faster and faster as more of them were created and began to bounce as recklessly as an electron trying to streak after a elusive cation. 'There has to be a way, right? Certainly there is some way... some way, somehow... I just have to do some research? Perhaps if I searched, tried to reason... maybe... maybe...'

No secret could stay a secret forever. A new idea, a new project.

Me and my projects.

'Non hanno avuto fortuna finora, altrimenti non si preoccupano abbastanza per provare. They've had no luck so far, or else they do not care enough to try.' I chastised myself. 'Da quando pensi che alla legge interesserebbe un solo figlio? Voi siete la minoranza. Credono di avere cose più importanti di cui preoccuparsi. Since when did you think that the law would care about a single child? You are the minority. They believe they have more important things to worry themselves over.'

"So why don't I try and figure it out on my own?" I tip my chin upwards to the stars, as if asking them for their opinions. "If I want it, then I should go out and take it. Prendi il Destino per le corna. Take Destiny by the horns." It would take research, time... effort (but this was a given), but who said that a little on-the-side research wasn't bad for someone? Think of it as a sort of personal pet project.

I kept looking up at the stars. Did they have any answers for me? A shooting star...

A pang rips through my heart as I consider the fact that I have turned the topic to myself out of greed, of my inability to keep my mouth shut. No. This was not about me, this was never about me... and it it was if only for the gifting of the legendary and beautifully rich Firebolt, I did not want more attention than I had already been given. Perhaps, with my newfound ability to heal more efficiently than some of my fellows, perhaps this was the time to heal.

Glancing down at the ground far below me, observing the footholds that Valentin had used for himself... I let out a sharp hiss as I consider my options, trying to discover if there was indeed a place that I would be able to support my weight if I did choose to essentially lay down completely unsecured on a potentially slippery foothold. After a few seconds, I finally say to Hell with it and do my best to orient myself like my much nimbler seeker could. It took some controlled and active thinking to keep my balance, but eventually I ended up laying down with great hesitation and care, shifting a bit as I hooked one ankle upwards and my other leg over the same hold and under the first leg for extra security. I was a bit tense, but I was there laying alongside Valentin and looking up at his stars.

I swallowed tightly as I clasped my hands over my chest and tried to shift despite my tenseness and concerted body awareness in comparison with gravity. I was not scared of heights... but I did not want to fall; not when I had come so far. "Y-you're right," I tried not to stammer as I couldn't help but look 'upwards' down at the ground. "The sky is very pretty up here... if a little... less secure than I would usually like." Valentin... giving everything, offering everything.

I didn't have anything to give back.

"You keep giving, Valentin." I look over to him, noticing the crystalline tears in his argentium eyes. I try to wipe any that dared to fall down his cheeks. "Hey. Don't do that. You'll get frostbite, and that stuff sucks." I remind gently, my voice turning soft again. "Hey look. This is a new chapter, right?" I smile at him. "Old teammates, new friends, captains... we'll tear up the Quidditch Pitch this year, I can feel it. But," I fix an 'accusing' finger at Valentin. "You have to promise me that you will do something for yourself as much as you want to do it for others. For now, the team is first; but I want this win for myself too, to prove that I deserve to be back just as much as you say I do."

I turn away, pursing my lips slightly as I thought over my words and then glanced back readjusting my ankles at the tower's hold. "Does that make any sense or-- pfft!" I cross my arms again, rubbing them to mitigate the chill. "Am I the one talking too fast or too confusingly now?" A sigh. truth be told, I would not have blamed Valentin if he did believe that in any way. T'was the curse of not being totally confident in social situations, I supposed.

Reducio
Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 7 | Strength 15 Ω
Ω Accuracy 14 | Wisdom 9 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω

11 Dec 2022, 02:45

"…Wands can always be exchanged, replaced, bonded with. Maybe you just haven't found your perfect partner yet," Romeo said. "I am not entirely convinced that my own wand is well-bonded with me. Despite it being an identical twin, it has nowhere near the amount of prowess that Piérre holds with his. Perhaps I have yet to find my true partner as well... Just like lightning finding its partner when it splits the skies."

The leader stroke of Valentin’s hand reached out towards Romeo, hovering only an inch above his chest, but no bolt from the ground rose to meet him. There was no meeting place, and Valentin’s hand dropped. Although trying to smile politely, he squinted as his eyes and lips curled like burning paper. By turning away, the seeker concealed his face as it warped into a grimace of agony. A shock of solitude tore through Valya’s heart, and as he crunched down the pain inside, the alabaster boy tried to force himself to be happy anyway. The sky outside was perfectly clear, and beckoning. Still, he couldn’t help wanting to cry.

Valentin proceeded to grab his cloak and guided Romeo up to the crystal ledge, laying the warm blue-tinged silver fur over him before showing him the tower’s interior, explaining the Firebolt’s origins, and telling the boy his secret dream. Whenever Romeo responded, Valentin listened patiently while gazing into the sprawling wildlands around them.

"That is a beautiful dream, Valentin. A pure one. And I know that you'll achieve it… Your time will come; if that's truly what you want for your life, then take it by the horns." Romeo’s voice came without much indication of grieving as he went on to explain details of his upbringing and family life.

"I wish, so unlike your dreams, that I had the ability to have a place to call my own. I've been in too many places, too many cities and countries. I'm tired of travel; I just want to finally settle down and call one place a home. You say that I can call this place my home, but... I don't know where I'm from. Who I'm from. How can I call somewhere a home if I don't even know where my heart should be? How can I even begin to dream that I deserve something like that?"

Just like that, mere moments after welcoming the first orphan into his domain and giving Romeo the key to his private tower… Valentin listened to the other reject the place as a home. The Italian still had a quest for meaning of his own to accomplish. It’s only fitting for Romeo to find himself before attempting to have a home, Valentin tried to reason with himself, closing his eyes as his head began swimming with the ghosts of memory. How else can he choose if he hasn’t seen it all, learning what and who he is? I have been presumptuous to think anything of mine could mean something dear to him. What a fool I was, to tell him my dream without his asking. I have made a mistake, an imposition. I’ve wasted his time, when I could have been helping him with his need to find ‘where’ and ‘whom’ he’s from. Selfish, Valik. How could you.

"So why don't I try and figure it out on my own?" asked Romeo. "If I want it, then I should go out and take it. Prendi il Destino per le corna. Take Destiny by the horns."

“Let me help you. I have resources,” Valentin began, remembering Romeo’s earlier use of the idiom that told him to accomplish his own dream as well. He had been studying Italian, as the books downstairs might have hinted to Romeo as they came up the stairs. “I can hire a private investigator for you. Wouldn’t that be useful? Can you at least take my help?” As he lay back to look up at the sky, tears overtook Valentin’s argentium eyes. A shooting star flew above, but he couldn’t see it for what it was through the stinging blur of his grief. It was the first time Valentin had ever felt so rejected, and it wouldn’t be the last. His tears began to fall, as they would for months to come: inverted bolides of shattered wishes.

"Hey. Don't do that. You'll get frostbite, and that stuff sucks," said Romeo, invoking their shared memory. He had saved him then, like a manifestation of the wolf Kok-Bori, but why had he even bothered? "Hey look. This is a new chapter, right? Old teammates, new friends, captains... we'll tear up the Quidditch Pitch this year, I can feel it. But, you have to promise me that you will do something for yourself as much as you want to do it for others. For now, the team is first; but I want this win for myself too, to prove that I deserve to be back just as much as you say I do."

Holding himself there, on the sacred crystal ledge next to his all-time favorite person, Valentin had never felt so alone – not even after the loss of his parents. Shaking with the force of weeping he failed to shutter inside, the seeker sat up and finally felt the cold biting into him despite the mild summer evening. At least the Italian was warm, as he was much more susceptible to the cold. After all, Valentin was the frost captain. His team needed him to be the ice king, cool under pressure, never cracking. I should never have imposed this on Romeo. Standing up on the ledge, the seeker wiped his eyes as he looked into the perfect blackness of the Firebolt in the beater’s hands. It will be alright. This will make his dream come true, proving to himself that he deserves to be back on the team. It’s alright. Let it go.

“Fine, I will ask for something myself this summer and see how that goes.” Valentin’s words bit much harsher than he’d intended. Swallowing through the pain in his throat, he continued trying to shut his feelings back up. “So long as you take my help with figuring out your origins.”

Angling off the edge to swing with one hand onto the lower balcony, Valentin extended his arms to take the cloak and broom back from Romeo on their way down.

“I’m sorry to keep you up. It’s already so late.” I was too late. If only I had gotten there before Hanzo, just maybe I would have had a chance. At least Romeva won’t be on the streets this summer, even though it seems he has no intention of staying.

After trying to help Romeo off the ledge, Val will leave the thread unless stopped.

@Piérre Marchonné

★ Valentin's Ency ☆ ☄ койрыклы йолдыз килә-ә ☄ ☽ Aida's Ency ☾