17 Dec 2022, 01:04
Voice of the Locket
Date: 25 December 2022
Evening
Romeo MarchonnéThe boy was curled up with Figaro on his chest and a fruity candy cane in his mouth as he pet his bengal's silvery fur with mildly sticky fingers. Paging through a new book that Maddie had gotten him so that he could study for next years' classes (admittedly Maddie wasn't an exceptional gift-giver, but at least she was trying to support the educational lives of both the kids), the boy lightly tapped the tiny package by his foot with unbridled energy as he waited for his brother to come upstairs after 'grooming'. Even now Piérre giggled to himself at the thought. Since when had his brother gotten obsessed with being overly self-conscious of his appearance? Must have been in the past year or so, Piérre remembered vividly before that time he and his brother would often wrestle and scuffle all about-- often breaking things and making a mess-- without so much as batting an eye at how messy, sweaty, bloody, or dirty that they got in the process. The boy continued to bite his tongue with amusement; was Romeo really trying to impress that albino that Piérre kept seeing near him all the time?
That was a potential, Piérre reflected. After all, the evening before Christmas Romeo had received a very curious gift of a pair of twin owls which carried a single note between them. Upon reading it, Romeo had gone very quiet and reflective, an aspect of him that Piérre knew to indicate that he was trying to figure out the best way to take in new information that he had been given. Yet, this persona only lasted for about a minute or so before Romeo carefully folded up the letter and tucked it away. With a small nod and a smile, as well as an assurance that he was fine in response to Piérre's inquisitively narrow look, Romeo had wished him a "Merry Christmas." before immediately tending to what Piérre had to assume were his new gifts.
Naturally, Piérre took a little detour towards Romeo's side of their shared bedroom while his brother was taking a shower and very quickly ruffled through his twin's things. With practiced hands used to mischief, he checked every spot that he had known his twin to try and keep things secreted from his puckish counterpart. When those spots failed, Piérre tried to search less orthodox locations that could still hide a piece of paper... and when those failed the boy sulked to himself on his side of the room, retrieving a battery powered DS and taking out his frustrations on some wild non-shiny Pokémon in Pokémon Black. As far as Piérre remembered, Romeo was still trying to 100% complete Pokémon White, so he had to wait to have his chance at Reshiram, but in his opinion a shiny Zekrom (who Piérre had lovingly renamed Lil Sparky) was far superior to the other game's counterpart shiny.
Besides, what were cheat codes for? If Piérre happened to have, say, the shiny Reshiram just because of... dumb luck after 'tactically acquiring' it from N in their final fight, then who really had to know the whole story, right?
But the past was in the past, and tonight-- regardless of what the boy had missed out on by not finding the obvious letter from a secret admirer-- Piérre had his own gift to give to his brother. Smiling as his enormous twin shadowed the doorframe, Piérre waved like a little kid towards their parent as Romeo came in quietly and took a seat on his own bed on the other side of the room and caused the mattress to squeak ever so slightly. Simply spotting the difference in size between his brother and his brother's bed was enough to cause Piérre's eyes to light up with amusement. And to think, only five years ago his brother was dwarfed by the size of the twin XL bed and had struggled to climb into it sometimes due to its nature as a captain's bed that was around three or four feet off the ground as it was. Now his brother was struggling to make sure that his feet weren't hanging off the edge of the bed on a nightly basis. On one hand, Piérre felt bad for his quickly growing sibling, but on the other hand... that was pretty funny.
Continuing to suck on the candy cane, Piérre quirked his eyebrow as he closed up the magic theory book and sat up in a way that caused Figaro to let out a cracked purring meow and then jumping off of Piérre's lap to instead curl up in a mess of pillows at the foot of the bed. "Hey Rome. It's been a while..." Piérre initiated the conversation. Though they had started to level over the course of the past few days, it didn't seem to make things any less awkward for him as he tried to do as his brother's letters had pleaded; to drop the mask and to be himself. "Thank you for coming home. I missed you. I really did." Piérre took the candy cane out of him mouth, snapping off the sharpened end that he had been working on so that he could eat it and put the remainder aside. Crunching on the candy cane now, Piérre quietly considered his avenues of approach of the subjects at hand.
Romeo covered the gap for him instead. "I'm glad to be home. Things have been... strange... recently." His brother folded his legs into a loose crisscross on the bed, rubbing his knees as if to dry his hands on his sweatpants. "I really did not mean to hurt you. I am so, so sorry for that. I couldn't... I didn't know what to do at that point anymore. I was so scared of losing you, how distant you had become, how paranoid and... and..."
"Mean?" Piérre finished his brother's sentence for him. "You can say it, I know it." The Jester always seemed to admit to his actions in the most incriminating ways. "I've been really mean, especially to you. I've pushed everyone away that I used to be close to. I dug myself a grave, and now I've laid in it." Piérre smiled knowingly, kicking his feet over the side of his own captain's bed and speaking his words with a chipper chirp to them. "With everything that has happened at Hogwarts and between us... well... It's been a bit tough to keep a brave face on. I let my worst side get the better of me."
The boy briefly remembered the grinning face of the Twisted Jester in the dark tent during the Trial by Fear. It was something that he had locked away, tried to forget about, but every once in a while the memory liked to rear its ugly head and cause that serpentine contortionist to invade the inner workings of Piérre's waking conscience with dark sentiments and cruel suggestions. Fear was what had encouraged the boy to keep those he cared about the most as far away from him as possible, the idea that somehow he was jinxed or cursed to hurt anyone who got too close to him. Fear was what liked to make a fool out of the Jester. "I was scared of hurting you." He finally came forth and said it, honestly, bare-facedly. "My boggart... it is some dark, twisted version of me. After that day, people started disappearing, or at least started to fade from my notice, more frequently than they had before. Some of them were my friends. Some of them were people who had made fun of me. Some of them were..." Piérre remembered Vladimir, remembered the boy in the Caretaker's office; Victor Moore, if he remembered rightly. "Some of them were killed." Under mysterious circumstances, no less. "I-I know it's not my fault! But..." Piérre waved his hands. "It just... I don't want it to turn out that it is real and then have you get..." Killed. is what he thought, but he didn't say it.
"If you're worried about me leaving the picture, I don't think you know me. Which is an insult considering we've been twins for as long as I can remember and that we should know each other inside and out by now." Romeo responded, eyes locked into Piérre's with a gaze of pure ice blue. It was almost enough to cause the Jester to shiver with the intensity of it. "I'll say it once and I'll say it again, but after what happened in October at the fall ball I don't think that I can be surprised by anything you say anymore about these alleged 'dark creatures'." His twin traced air quotes in the air. "But, as you said yourself, I do NOT think you are cursed. I don't even think that you are unlucky. I think that you are over thinking and that you have a lot that you are dealing with even without these crazy things that are going on and about without being contained." Romeo leaned back on a pillow, stretching slightly. "And people say that Durmstrang is a magnet for the Dark Arts. My offer is still extended to you, by the way." Romeo pointed at Piérre with a quirked brow. "If you want to transfer to Durmstrang, I will gladly tutor you and make sure than nobody fucks with you."
"No cursing." Piérre reactively responded without thinking to the cuss word his brother had spoken. Suddenly embarrassed that he had corrected his own sibling, he went for the candy cane again and sucked on it to hide the red seeping into his cheeks.
Romeo only chuckled lightly, more focused on a small Tinker's Bell puzzle that he had taken from its hanging place on the wall and that was now being turned and fiddled with in his hands. Piérre listened to the cast iron clinking and focused on the sound more than the conversation, feeling himself mildly dissociating as his active mind was entertained by the music that his brother's hands inadvertently made. As Romeo continued to fiddle with it, Piérre spoke again. "Anyways. Point is that we are both still alive, right? That's what matters most in the end, I think." He joked in an attempt to turn that event into a positive situation. "As cool as you guys from Durmstronk are, though, I think I'm better off at Hogwarts."
Piérre's twin fixed him with a stern stare. "Oh? Why is that?"
Piérre shrugged. "I just... I sense that I'm needed there. Something keeps telling me that I just have to be there. As if by being there I could help to reduce the amount of crazy stuff that keeps happening there. Did I tell you that I helped to catch a weird slug that was made out of pure darkness?"
"Sorry, what?"
The boy nodded brightly, grinning broadly again. "Yep! It was really scary and trying to attack this girl, but both Figgy and I helped to try and contain it! He's a really good kitty!" Piérre stroked Figaro, which elicited a meow and intense purring from his feline comrade the longer he pet. "Saved some of the slime that was on my wand after I stabbed it with a sunlight charm and corked it up. It's in my trunk right now, but I don't think it's a good idea to pull it out here. Never know what a potentially dark curse could do to a person's house if it's let out."
By now Romeo was ramrod straight as he leaned towards Piérre. "Woahwoahwoah, you brought it with you? What the fuck were you thinking?"
"NO CURSING!" Piérre scolded again. "It's not free! It's in my trunk, vialed up and secured with some extra sticking charm magic. It's not going to get out even if it wanted to. Stop flipping out over silly things." The boy waved a hand nonchalantly. "But enough about me and my exploits, I want to hear about what's going on with you. You said you were working on a project, and I want to hear about it." Piérre leaned in curiously himself, mimicking his brother's aggressively curious stance with wide green eyes that most assuredly carried an aspect of puppy-ness to them. "I'll tell you more about my life if you tell me a bit about yours. You're not exactly an open book with me either, you know; what with the albino seeker Valentin Schnell seemingly always at your side whenever I spot you. That was a good game last summer, by the way. Very clean. I heard you knocked 3 people off their brooms."
Romeo hesitated at the mention of the albino. Of course he did, Piérre praised himself with silent deviousness. Already the boy was starting to get more and more of a mental picture of what was going on with his brother when put in conjunction with his twin's body language. 'Yes,' the boy thought, 'Yes, keep getting flustered; I can read you like a book when you do that.'
"Five players knocked off their brooms, of those five, only three of them hit the ground. The other two were saved by a third and then all three were blatched by Madhup a little while later." Romeo spoke the statistics as if making remarks on the current weather, but the Jester managed to catch wavering inflections trembling just below the vibrato's overtone. Inflections that indicated that there was something just beneath those words that was being affected somehow by the comments of the Japer. Valentin and I are the team's captains; I'm only the co-captain at that. Any closeness you are sensing somehow with your empathic traits are is that; a sense. We are highly communicative, highly tuned in with the actions of the other; that's the relationship between a pair of captains, the relationship between a Seeker and a Beater. I defend him while he wins the game."
Piérre's eyes narrowed again and he leaned in a bit further, waiting for Romeo to fall apart completely. He knew his brother; Romeo would eventually crumble with no further prompting. It was something that his brother had a propensity to do when flustered. Well, good news; Piérre had him flustered just the way he wanted him.
Seeming to sense the increasing intensity of his brother's reasserted gaze, Romeo faltered again before continuing. "Valentin is a good friend, a kind friend. He's... like you in a way-" The Japer's eyes narrowed and Romeo quickly changed tracks. "Look, I don't know why you're being so hostile about this in particular, but there is nothing going on. Valentin has been helping me out lately so that I could give you the time you needed on your own so that we could even consider calming down enough to get to this reconciliation."
Though the Britalian felt his nose crinkle in disgust at the sentiment of needing to essentially 'cool his heels', he did realize that that had been exactly what the two of them had needed. And that had been exactly what the two year gap in their relationship had been, as painful as it was; a break from each other to let each be their own. "In fact, he's been helping me out on my little pet project. He helped to hire a Private Investigator, would you believe it?" Romeo hissed out towards Piérre.
"A private investigator, are you crazy?" Piérre snorted, flopping onto his stomach and beginning to hang himself over the edge of his bed. After a second he flipped onto his back so that his world was upside down and it looked like Romeo was hanging from the ceiling. "No way. That's fulla bull." He said, snickering to himself. As if there was ANYTHING that his brother could be doing that was important enough to even consider hiring something as elite as a private investigator. What was he trying to do, exactly? "Tryna solve a murder or find revenge on someone who stole a sandwich from you like, ten years ago?" Little could he know how his twin's next words would end up both simultaneously causing his heart to leap out of adrenalized excitement at the thought and chill as if something tabooed and secret had been spoken to him; a secret that he wasn't supposed to-- no-- wasn't allowed to learn
"Piérre, I'm trying to figure out who our biological parents were."
Last edited by Piérre Marchonné on 8 Feb 2023, 13:48, edited 1 time in total.
Jesters do oft prove prophets. 𓀚
I am the brother account to Romeo Marchonné & Zyva Hel Fae Skógrwight
6 Feb 2023, 22:42
Voice of the Locket
¤ | Ω | ¤
"Italiano. Italian."
"Russian."
\ Fingerless Glove on Right Hand, Bite Scar on Right Forearm /
| Lichtenberg Figure on Right Arm and Down Back |@Piérre Marchonné, Contains Reference from Valentin Schnell
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama EllwoodDid everything around me shrink or had I simply grown? Perhaps it was a mixture of the both, I thought as I finally perched on my (what felt to be) small captain's bed after taking a shower and getting comfortable in a pair of makeshift pajamas that was actually a combination of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Already, my twin was watching me, I sensed those green eyes on me; his and his cat's, the latter of which had become responsible for the fact that I only had around half of the tip of my outer right ear remaining. I didn't quite trust myself enough to try my luck with the cat yet, though admittedly it looked more than relaxed while curled up by my brother's side.
To be completely honest, I had no idea how this conversation was going to go, or if I would be able to say the right things at the right time in the right way for the both of us. I had agonized about how I was going to speak, how I was going to act; as if I was preparing for a job interview. It certainly had not helped that a gift from Valentin had come for me just yesterday in plain sight of Piérre, and that I had managed to pick up on his curious eyes upon the pair of twin owls and the note that they had carried in their possession. I had read the letter quickly, but when I had had some time to myself, I had pulled it out again just so that I could hide from my twin and avoid his prying eyes. As much as I loved him... I needed to read this alone without his potentially peering over my shoulder.
It read as follows:The two owls were indeed gorgeous creatures; they almost seemed to mirror each other in every way conceivable. One was a little larger than the other-- the one that I figured must be the female of the two-- the female was of a dark coloration while the male was of a lighter complexion. When one started to preen, the other would join in, and when the first was finished they helped to preen the other. Like a shadow and light they shared in everything they did, and (as I discovered) they were just as equal and opposite as those as well. The darker one was more aggressive and assertive when it came to what it seemed to want or need (fresh air, a mouse, a drink, you name it), while the thin white one seemed content to amble about and even go so far as to play with my brother's cat. Obviously he seemed to have no fear, or if he did he showed no indication of it. Of course, my twin had taken this in more than simple good spirit. Indeed, he almost seemed to encourage it. I suppose it didn't do much harm for now... though I have my suspicions about what his end goals are.
Rome,
I don't know how to put this, but... I might stay at my childhood home in Germany over the rest of the winter break. The address is below, just in case you need to reach me...
I... Tell your brother Merry Christmas for me, please. I don't want to clutter up your trunk with more silly things, so... I was hoping it would be more practical if I gave you each an owl so that you wouldn't have to depend on public mail delivery in the future. I don't think you know– we actually breed owls at the estate in Kazan. It's terribly simpleminded, but I am trying to make a new generation of race owls that will beat out all others. Would you believe that these ones I'm giving you are actually twins? These two are not only fast, but also very smart. Speed isn't everything– after all, my favorite one is kind of slow but has an incredible personality.
Anyway... I wish... I mi
I wish you both a beautiful Christmas.
All my love,
Valentin
Of course, my first and most natural reaction to this was once again 'he gave too much again, giving and giving and giving... and never taking for himself', but then again, Valentin did have a point. Perhaps that was the thing that I hated myself most about that was the fact that having an owl would indeed help me greatly when I was holed up in Durmstrang... especially if the owls were indeed as swift as Valentin said that they were. Well... if I was going to keep them... I would have to name them... and that would mean I had a bit more research to do...
ReducioBut in the end, it was the letter which caused me to continually stare and reread, particularly the struck out sections of it. I was by no means a master of the mind or the way that people were apt to think... and perhaps it was because of this that I puzzled so deeply over those words; words that had started with "I". Valentin in the process of asking something, but evidently it was something that he felt that he could not complete. "I hope..." "I..." "I mi-".
And perhaps this was in part because of the things that I had said to him both at his Crystal Tower and the way that I had acted so noncommittal towards his opening of his heart towards me in the previous months. Valentin was so passionate in everything he did; whatever he fell for he fell for hard. Whatever he put his mind to, he never let go of... and perhaps... was that beginning to include... me?
Well, I had certainly hidden that note in a place that not even my nosy brother could find it. The best place to hide something? Obviously in a place that you always carried with you (which I did; I kept the letter on my person and I would probably continue to do so until I went back to Durmstrang for the Spring semester). I had no doubt in my mind that my brother the sneak would do anything in his power to try and find this note, now that he knew that I had received it along with an incredibly obviously expensive gift of two quality and well-bred owls. Admittedly, I was willing to guess that my brother wasn't so much jealous of the owls as much as he would be jealous and suspicious of the letter and the person that I had received them from. After all, he had a rather vicious jealous streak that had notoriously overcome him in the past when concerning small petty things the likes of our comparable athletic abilities or our performances concerning puzzles and mental disciplines; and that had been jealousy of me. He had been exceptionally competitive just when interacting with me: I would worry about an individual he was jealous of for the sake of himself mostly.
And here he was, reclining on the bed as if nothing really mattered at all. Good God if only I had that ability to be so unbothered and relaxed while quite literally having the conversation that would potentially affect how we saw one another as brothers, twins, counterparts, or potentially competitors or adversaries. Truthfully, the kid was walking on thin ice; it was only because he had requested the conversation and the fact that I did regret what I had done at the Spring Ball that I was even willing to have this conference. I was just hoping that I wasn't going to get played like a fool for it. If that happened... I don't know what I would do, but it sure as hell would not be pretty.
And yet, he still seemed to be straightforward in his admittances and his confessions. At least for the time being he was... well... trying to cater to my good side, at least. He spoke of very strange things, but admittedly they were things that I had heard from him in bits and pieces already. I simply just had no idea that the river had run this deep for him; this deep paranoia that seemed to dig deeper than an underground spring. Should he have therapy? Did he even want it? Perhaps... was I better for this? Should I be better for this? No. This should not be my job...
But I so desperately wanted to finally reach him. Perhaps if I did listen to him... then I could help him in the long run when running alongside my other focuses of research and study. Yet, there was something about how calm Piérre was about it that caused my blood to chill. He spoke of all these things like they were regular occurrences things that should not be regular occurrences, at least not for a kid so young as either of us. I wanted him, no, needed him, to come Durmstrang if things this dangerous continued... but as always he was stubborn, convicted in his beliefs. He couldn't leave because he felt like he was destined to be there?
Well on top of that being the biggest heaping of nonsense I had ever heard, I was willing to argue the opposite. If anything, he was likely developing some sort of Stockholm Syndrome to that school. But my twin did the one thing he excelled at most and altered the subject towards my relationship with our Quidditch seeker Valentin Schnell, which had caused all my complaints to dry up on my tongue. How to respond to Piérre's accusations I wasn't entirely sure, but what I knew was that I had to be clever about this. Cleverness was, for a fact, not a strong suit of mine. Staying as neutral as possible, however, was an especial strength, even if I could get reactively 'twitchy' at times. I felt those conniving eyes on me, of course I did. When Piérre wanted something, he scarcely never got it. What it was out of me exactly, though, I wasn't entirely willing to bet: was it admittance that there was some sort of rumor going about of the close relationship that Val and I had or was it something else that was intended to just suit his fancy? Regardless of what it was, I wasn't intending to give it to him no matter how much he grilled me.
The only way to turn his attention from that, of course, would be to reveal my own ace that I had hidden up my sleeve; a secret that I had been keeping from him just as much as he had been keeping secrets away from me. He wanted to play dirty with the conference and its topics? I would match his bet and raise the ante.
"Piérre, I'm trying to figure out who our biological parents were."
The difference in Piérre's stance became painfully clear; his emerald eyes widened with shock once before setting into an expression of incredulousness in order to mask the said surprise. He turned his chin away from me, fixing me with a look out of an Evil Eye. "Dooooooon't mess with me, Romeo." He warned. "I don't like it when you think you're clever and lie to me for your own entertainment."
"To be honest, Gemello, I don't like it when you do that to me either; but here we are and I am not lying." I mess with the Tinker's Bell again, trying my best to recall the very specific hand movements needed to loose a certain part of the metalwork so that I could finally slip off that ring at the right angle and thereby successfully complete the puzzle halfway. The other half, of course, was the process of re-connecting the two pieces back to its original position. "Valetin has been helping to fund me and my research into the older families in Europe, the Pureblooded elites scattered in southern Europe and around the Mediterranean." I exhale with a small puff as I lean in towards the puzzle. It was almost loosed, just the right coax and it would all come apart in my hands.
"Bologna." Piérre shook his head incredulously as he continued to stroke his hellcat. "There's no way someone would fund something that insane of a venture, especially not for nobodies like us. ...Does Maddie know about this?" He asked, stopping mid-pet and facing me head on once more.
"I've told Maddie I'm trying to do some research; she's offered to help by pulling some records from the Ministry she still has access to, but I doubt that'll help much when concerning Purebloods; if they don't want something to see the light of day, they usually cover their asses well about it." I confess. "If we really were abandoned for no easily discernable reason, I don't imagine that we were of a completely pure lineage unless we are, well, bastards." These were theories I had been putting together and pulled apart in my brain quite frequently. "If we were Purebloods, we would likely be inheritors of some degree of honor and or family riches. Male heirs are what make the family more powerful, after all." Turn the metal here, twist it at an awkward angle there... "Impure bloodlines focus more on family and family values; I doubt that someone would be so shallow as to abandon their own children if they could help it." A sigh, just a little bit more...
"But say, if a respected Pureblooded family had a little bit of a scandal; say, a scandal that resulted in the birth of two boys by illegitimate means. Say, if they were out of the picture, a name or a reputation wouldn't be ruined. Say, if they became someone else's problem instead but had at least enough morality to not expose them like in the ancient days." the ring was inches from freedom. "Then certainly a pair of nobody twins would not be as odd now, would it? The threat to the family extinguished, the heritage unscathed, and nobody any the wiser. Bravo, we have a very curious situation on our hands, considering that we seem to match that description rather well, wouldn't you say?" With a twist, the ring from the Tinker's Bell fell from its confines and onto my bed. Staring at it for a few seconds, I look up to observe Piérre leaned as far forwards as his center of gravity would allow without causing him to tumble off the bed.
His eyes were on the ground, but flicked back and forth as if reading a book. "So.. what you're suggesting is that we aren't just nobodies? We were... unwanteds? Really unwanted?" His brow furrowed as he shook his head. "What kind of person would do that? Would just... throw a pair of lives out the window just to preserve a name? I don't- that doesn't- does it to you?" His eyes flicked up again to meet mine, and they somehow looked... hurt. Truly hurt, as if I had done something to him to irrevocably scar him.
"I know it doesn't sound nice or good... but..." Well, truthfully there was no way to sugarcoat it. It didn't really deserve to be sugarcoated, really. "Someone wanted us. You remember the Bianchis as well as I." I tried to keep my tone neutral, unbiased and quiet. Back before our lives had gotten far more complicated than either of us really liked, even despite our tastes for adventure and excitement.
"Somehow I knew something like this was the truth..." Piérre grumbled to himself, crossing his arms as he put the candy cane back in his mouth and then rubbed a most curious stone that had a hole in its center attached to a leather cord he wore like a necklace. Most likely a worry stone of some caliber, if I had to make my guess. Piérre 'tsked' sharply with a disbelieving smile. "From the start... I knew. this is just icing, the fact that you're looking into it now." He hummed lightly. "Well, if you ever do figure out who our actual folks are, don't hesitate to let me know... I'm just as curious, because I wanna know why they decided to throw us out like yesterday's spoiled milk."
"I'm sure it's not like that." I start, "I'm fairly certain that there was a reason for..." but I trail off at seeing the daggers in Piérre's green eyes. I put both my hands up. "Whatever. You know, I don't care, I'm going to find out, I'm going to get to the bottom of it, and I'm not going to give in or get discouraged even if we haven't been successful so far. Something big is coming, I can sense it." I clench my hand as if there was something there that I could grasp and make true. "And when I figure it out, maybe there's a chance that we can get taken back in. Maybe it was only a temporary fix... perhaps they're looking for us just as much as we are for them. Just... keep an open mind, Gemello. You usually do... but I want to remind you because you are acting especially snarky today for some ungodly reason."
A small chuckle from Piérre was elicited. "Haha! Yeah... I'm just a little behind on sleep. I won't be like this all Winter Break, hey!"
"Hm?" I start, surprised once more by my brother's desire to shift the flow of the conversation yet again. "Yeah, what's up? Oh!"
I jump a bit as Piérre comes rocketing towards me and jumps up on my bed next to me. Shifting suddenly to avoid getting an elbow to the face, I end up cracking my head on the shelf just overhead and cuss lightly. After evoking a rebuke from my brother over my language (once again), I take note of what he holds in his hand as I rub the top of my skull. I wasn't bleeding, so that was good? "Piérre, what the f- is that a camera?" I ask, still trying to nurse the bump that was beginning to form.
In response to my query, Piérre nods ecstatically. "YEAH! I got it from Hogsmeade! It's a wizard camera with some film, lookit this!" Almost childishly he holds it up to his eye and mimes some shutter-snapping noises. "I had an idea a few weeks ago I kinda want to try out!"
Well, I had a goose-egg on my head now, that was nice. "Oh? And what's that, exactly?"
"We take a picture every year to see what our family is! I gots some developing solution, maybe we can go and try and develop some moving pictures of us! Wouldn't that be cool?" My brother claps his hands excitedly as he breathlessly speaks. "Then, as all these years pass, we can see how we've changed and how much we've grown; I mean, just look at you for one thing, my God!" He teased, trying to kneel and stretch himself as tall as possible. Even then he only barely manages to get above my eye level.
After fixing him with a 'look', I shrug and then chuckle. I mean, it wasn't an inherently bad idea... in fact it wouldn't hurt at all to take some pictures just to have some memories. You know what they say about photos lasting for lifetimes and or saying a thousand words. Perhaps it would be worth it to take a picture... just for the sake of both placating my brother and for good time's sake. "Alright, alright. Okay. Fine. Take a picture, but don't force me to make a funny face; that's your job, right?" I tease my twin lightly as he snorts under his breath and sidles up next to me almost pushing up underneath my left arm. To help him get comfortable, I wrap that arm around his shoulders and slightly smile.
My brother quickly focuses on calling his cat over, and after that whole thing got situated with Figaro finally comfortably on his lap in frame, with a cry of "Say CHEEEEEEEESE!" from him, the shutter snapped and I blinked a bit after the slight flash to clear the mild spots from my eyes. Wow, it had been a while since I had been that close to a camera by my own choice. That had certainly been an experience, that was for sure.
"You're going to develop that picture, yeah?" I ask, rubbing my eyes again. Goodness gracious, talk about an overstimulation thanks to just about... everything? "I better look good in it otherwise you're not allowed to keep it" I joke back at Piérre. "Cuz if I don't look in it, you sure as heck don't." Mussing up his hair in the way I know he hates, I lean back and reach as far as I can towards the desk by the foot of my bed. I catch Piérre's eyes as he raises a brow at my exposed stomach. "Try tickling me and I will knock your lights out, brother." I state warningly even as his hands enter 'tickle' mode.
Snatching the package there, I carefully bring myself back to a comfortable sitting position and present it to my twin. "Hey, late Christmas present; final surprise. Got it for you just because I know you like this sort of strange vintage stuff if it's stimulating." So saying, I set it down in front of him, and I swear to God the second it was out of my hands it was in his. Not that I minded, though; I liked to give gifts and see how people reacted to them, and the reactions of my brother were always priceless because of his curious and almost avarice (sometimes) nature. "Heyheyhey, be careful with it; it's fragile and can break if you're not careful." I warned him and almost tried to reach out to help him unwrap it, but Piérre had already peeled back the wrapping paper and had revealed the rather large oak box located therein.
With a bit of a smile, I indicated to the golden lock on the front. "Needs a key; I have it here with me." I pull the similarly designed, yet blissfully plain, gold key out of my pocket and hold it over Piérre's hand before dropping it for his appraisal. Noting the curious, pleased smile on his face, I can't help but smile as well as he carefully turns the key in the lock and opens it.
Almost immediately, a very familiar song begins to play. It had been a bit pricy on the market, but it was a music box that had been enchanted to play a song that was on the subconscious mind when it was opened. As the bright and tinkling music began thanks to the piano-like metal bits located deep in its mechanism, both Piérre and I watched the magical images dance about almost like children looking through the window of a toy shop... The song that played was indeed a song I remembered well from my childhood, and it was one that I knew Piérre remembered well too. It was an Italian child's lullaby, just a little tune that parents sang to their little ones over and over again until it caused them to fall asleep:
Farfallina bella e bianca Beautiful, white butterfly
Vola, vola, mai si stanca Fly, fly, never get tired
Vola qua, vola là flutter here, flutter there
Svolazzano lontano. Flutter [far] away.
As we listened, I kept a close eye on my brother and the way that he held himself while the music played. I watched how his emerald green eyes softened and almost seemed to gloss over as he appeared to become more and more relaxed. Of course... he loved this song when Eleanor sang it to him, before Carlos had come home and Piérre desperately needed an afternoon nap in order to not be a holy terror by the time the evening rolled around. He used to pretend to be all sorts of little flying creatures when he was little, like bumblebees or sparrows. He ran around me in circles with his energy, how tireless it seemed, and told me how one day he was going to flutter far away and see the world for how amazing and beautiful it was. With myself on the ground often looking up at him stuck in a tree, all I could do was laugh at him; not really at his dreams, per say, but simply at the way he spoke of it; as if even at that young age he had everything all figured out.
There were such good memories... such remembered pleasures. So when the song had run its full course, Piérre suddenly snapped out of his reverie and fixed me with his bright eyes now restored with their sharp keenness. "Wow... I really haven't heard that song in a long time... This brings back..." He paused. "A lot of things. Man..." Looking away, Piérre scratched the nape of his neck awkwardly. "Man I feel like that was forever ago... I feel like that was a completely different life."
"It wasn't as long ago as you think, as much as I want to say otherwise..." I smile a bit. "You must think about it a lot, though, if the music box picked it up in your mind. It has some sort of Legilimens nature to it, so it sort of thought reader that plays whatever is in your subconscious." I trace my fingers on the carvings... how I wished I could carve as well as this... I mean, I supposed I was trying to pick up the hobby again... but my shoddy woodwork would be nothing compared to this if I did manage to complete a piece of work.
"Yeah... OH! OH! I have something for you as well, Rome!" My brother claps excitedly and then jumps off my bed, snatching a tiny hinged box from under his own. Piérre pouted a bit as he chewed his cheek. "I forgot to wrap it and put it under the tree like the creche... So... I'm giving it to you now." So saying, he practically almost shoved the thing into my chest, his eyes lighting up with excitement. Jumping up alongside me again, he pumped his hands excitedly with a chant. "Open it! Open it! Open it!"
At this expression of excitement, I can't help but get suspicious. Piérre rarely acted this excited for no reason; truthfully I was a bit worried about if this was a genuine gift or if it was one of his well-made pranks. I wanted to believe that it was good-natured... but at this point, I can't really be sure. He's so full of shit sometimes... even if I support him in everything that he wanted to do. "Alright, alright! Calm down. I can only open something you just threw into my hands so fast." I turn it in both hands once to find the proper hinge. "You almost made me fumble it. It would have been a shame if it was fragile and I dropped it on accident." I mumble to myself as I find the opening side and then flip it open.
Sitting on a small black velvet cushion lay a golden necklace in the design of a heart, with similar fair chain just thick enough to withstand light tugs wrapped about the backside of the pillow. Brows creased in curiosity, I lifted the necklace from its place and observed it on all sides, taking note of a small latch on the heart itself; evidently this was a locket, intended to be opened. Narrowing my eyes a bit suspiciously once again, I glance over to Piérre as if to quietly ask. 'What in the world is this?'
Fortunately for me, Piérre was willing to answer my query even before I had to ask the question aloud. "It's called a 'True Love's Locket'. Apparently when you open it, you can hear the voice of the one you love most. I think it's kinda cool, but I haven't really tried it myself, so I dunno if it's bogus or not." He shrugged. "I guess we can find out right now if it's real or not, huh?" A smile, that signature Piérre smile that both calmed my nerves yet simultaneously heightened them because its presence usually meant that he was about to say something very witty or daring. "Then we can share."
Ah, there it was. I was wondering when that rub would come into play.
"Piérre..." I almost groan, putting the locket down back in its box before rubbing my eyes wearily. "Piérre, I'm not really interested in sharing this sort of thing with you, even if I did have a 'True Love'."
Piérre pursed his lips and stuck out his tongue. "Mlegh! Spoilsport. Come onnnnn! It'll be fun! Look, I'll go first, okay? Gimme it." Before I can stop his hand, he takes the necklace and finds the latch, opening it.
Silence was in the air and I flare out my hands. "See? Bologna. You said it could have been a sham, and so it is. It's a pretty necklace, though, so I'll give you tha~"
"Shhhhh... I'm listening." My twin hushes me harshly, putting a finger to his lips before focusing on the empty center of the rather large golden heart. After a moment, he smiled. After a tiny giggle, Piérre covered his mouth and then looked me in the eyes. "It's your voice, Romeo. I hear your voice; it sounds just like you, and it said 'I love you.' I'd know your voice anywhere... and I know it's you." Green eyes creasing, I tip my head as Piérre wiggled excitedly. "The pawn shop said that it would do this sorta thing; it's only able to be heard by the one who opens it... Here! You try now!" My twin snaps the locket shut before presenting it back to me. "Open it, and tell me who you hear!"
Rubbing the locket with the pad of my thumb, I turn it in my fingers for a few second as my thumbnail tests the little latch that keeps it closed. Now that Piérre mentioned it, I was somewhat curious as to who I would hear... I was certain that the only reason Piérre had heard my voice as opposed to anyone else was because as far as I knew he had never really had a full relationship with any other person. Perhaps I really was the one that he loved most, that inherent need for brotherhood, most likely...
But I had had a relationship, or at least I had tried to have one... So I found myself devilishly curious as to who I would hear... if it would come out to me that I still cared deeply about someone that I had already cut ties with, or if there was someone else that I didn't know about yet, but somehow knew that I was calling out for. I supposed that was my devil's bargain. The fear of the knowledge that I would earn, yet the desire to know.
I resolved to open it, but before I did so, I informed Piérre of a certain condition. "I'll open it... but I reserve the right to keep the knowledge secret. Only I get to know if I so choose, and you don't get to whine about it."
After a hasty agreement, I was finally assured enough to reposition myself into a comfortable sitting position and then sighing a bit as i tipped my head. Opening the latch with my thumbnail, I gently pried the locket open to reveal the shiny golden interior. Within was a tiny ball of white light that glowed ever so faintly and seemed to pulse with a sort of sentience that was both strange and intriguing. I shook my head as not a sound seemed to emit from it... until the light within pulsed faintly once more, and three simple words emitted from it.
"I love you."
Piérre leaned in, as he no doubt saw that my face had suddenly gained a look of both awe and almost frightful paleness. "Can you tell me who it was, Romeo? Whod'ja hear?" He grinned in anticipation, clapping his hands again. "I won't ever tell if you tell!" He hummed.
I only shook my head in a negatory affirmation towards him. No.. I couldn't share this with him... not right now, not here, and not yet... Perhaps never...
I- I couldn't believe my ears... but I knew it, I did know that voice; I had been learning it well over the course of this last year. We had worked together... had slaved over a common love together, had done what felt like everything social together... 'Of course I know that voice,' I thought as I felt my eyes strain from the effort of looking into that pure white light that was so ironically themed. I'd know that voice anywhere at this point, I do believe.
The Voice of the Locket...
Was Valentin Schnell.
"I love you, Romeo.
I love you."ReducioStats:
Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 7 | Strength 15 Ω
Ω Accuracy 15 | Wisdom 9 | ArcPower 0 ΩAbilities:
Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω
