12 Oct 2018, 06:33
Your Move
It was a couple of weeks into the school year now, and Arthur couldn't say if he'd really made any proper friends yet. He had housemates that he liked, and classmates that he liked, but when the school day had ended, he tended to wind up by himself, more often than not. That was his fault more than anyone else’s, he knew. He was a little shy, bad at opening up or approaching people on his own. Still, he didn’t really feel like his hours were empty. The school was always so busy. And there was always something interesting going on. So it was probably fine.
Stretching an arm behind his back absently as he realized how long he’d been sitting in the same position, Arthur continued to frown down at the board in front of him. On the table, small stone chess pieces folded their arms and tapped their feet, looking up at him impatiently. Alright, alright! he thought. I’m thinking as fast as I can.
Friends, he couldn’t say… But he had developed a couple of solid acquaintances over his first few weeks at Hogwarts. One of them, strangely, was the girl sitting across from him now. He couldn’t remember exactly how it all started. Only that at some point one of them was sitting with a lonely chess set, the other happened to sit down, and they had started playing together. Since then, they’d played one game at least a week. Some, Arthur won. But usually, he lost. He never claimed to be a chess prodigy. He was in the chess club at school, but only because it was the only club that met on Thursday afternoons, when his mum didn’t get off work until 5pm.
Wizard chess was pretty similar to regular chess, he discovered. And by pretty similar, he meant it was exactly the same, except that the pieces moved and physically assaulted each other whenever you took a piece, which only served to make him feel really bad for his pieces when he messed up and lost them. He wasn’t sure if they could put themselves back together either, or if you always started with a whole new set. If he had thought to bring one with him to school, he would’ve rather played on a regular board.
He sighed. Right now, she had his Bishop pinned. He needed to move it to capture the piece that was about to put his King into check, but couldn’t do that without exposing the Rook behind it to being taken. All of this, he was sure, she already knew. But trying to read her face for clues to which of the two options was the better move for him was like trying to read ancient Hieroglyphics without knowing a word of Egyptian. He could move the Bishop and lose his Rook, or move the Rook and lose his Bishop. But if he didn’t do anything, he was sure it would be checkmate in another couple turns.
He touched the top of the Bishop piece, careful not to lift his finger, then glanced back at Erin. Nothing. Sighing, he went ahead and moved his Bishop over to her piece, letting it swing its tiny marble staff around to bludgeon the other piece. Once it was thoroughly pulverised, the Bishop kicked the bits of rubble out of the way and proudly took over its place. His Rook, on the other hand, was looking rather nervous. He had a feeling that would turn out to be the wrong move, but then again, he had a feeling that no matter what he did, it would have turned out to be the wrong thing.
“Alright,” he sighed, leaning back from the table. “Your move.”
Stretching an arm behind his back absently as he realized how long he’d been sitting in the same position, Arthur continued to frown down at the board in front of him. On the table, small stone chess pieces folded their arms and tapped their feet, looking up at him impatiently. Alright, alright! he thought. I’m thinking as fast as I can.
Friends, he couldn’t say… But he had developed a couple of solid acquaintances over his first few weeks at Hogwarts. One of them, strangely, was the girl sitting across from him now. He couldn’t remember exactly how it all started. Only that at some point one of them was sitting with a lonely chess set, the other happened to sit down, and they had started playing together. Since then, they’d played one game at least a week. Some, Arthur won. But usually, he lost. He never claimed to be a chess prodigy. He was in the chess club at school, but only because it was the only club that met on Thursday afternoons, when his mum didn’t get off work until 5pm.
Wizard chess was pretty similar to regular chess, he discovered. And by pretty similar, he meant it was exactly the same, except that the pieces moved and physically assaulted each other whenever you took a piece, which only served to make him feel really bad for his pieces when he messed up and lost them. He wasn’t sure if they could put themselves back together either, or if you always started with a whole new set. If he had thought to bring one with him to school, he would’ve rather played on a regular board.
He sighed. Right now, she had his Bishop pinned. He needed to move it to capture the piece that was about to put his King into check, but couldn’t do that without exposing the Rook behind it to being taken. All of this, he was sure, she already knew. But trying to read her face for clues to which of the two options was the better move for him was like trying to read ancient Hieroglyphics without knowing a word of Egyptian. He could move the Bishop and lose his Rook, or move the Rook and lose his Bishop. But if he didn’t do anything, he was sure it would be checkmate in another couple turns.
He touched the top of the Bishop piece, careful not to lift his finger, then glanced back at Erin. Nothing. Sighing, he went ahead and moved his Bishop over to her piece, letting it swing its tiny marble staff around to bludgeon the other piece. Once it was thoroughly pulverised, the Bishop kicked the bits of rubble out of the way and proudly took over its place. His Rook, on the other hand, was looking rather nervous. He had a feeling that would turn out to be the wrong move, but then again, he had a feeling that no matter what he did, it would have turned out to be the wrong thing.
“Alright,” he sighed, leaning back from the table. “Your move.”
Last edited by Anastasia Beckett on 12 Oct 2018, 15:11, edited 1 time in total.
17 Oct 2018, 00:56
Your Move
They might have met here. They might have let on the streets of London. Erin had strangely enough resigned herself to sitting here in this same chair every Thursday at five in the evening. On that same day, during those same hours there was a boy on the other side. She did not know his name, she would not even be able to pick out his face in a crowd. She did not know most people by how they looked, the sound of their voice, or even the things that they did but rather the way that they made her feel. And he always felt the same, twitchy, inquisitive and lonesome. It was like a fingerprint for the awkward first year, this desire to belong and this failure to find a place.
She did not pity the Hufflepuff, she was not capable of doing so. But still she was there each day at this destined time. She did not say anything, she never did. She would just wait for her turn in silence, her eyes darting from the board to the other students that passed. Students were an interesting breed, needy and entitled, self-important and in most cases the same -- fearful. Fear she had discovered was a driving force for most, the fear of ridicule, of failure, of punishment forces them to conform. She did not know what they feared, only that there was fear. The fear was often stronger than the pain, the loss or the sadness one would feel. A curiosity truly.
For most it was the same, socially inept pre-teens dealing with the rigors of academia, the changes in their body and the freedom to discover the potential of their magical heritage. For Erin it was different, yes she would grow up as any child would but her experience was wholly different. She saw or rather felt the world and the people in it differently. She could feel them with a burning intensity, their fears and their shallow ambitions, their jealousy and their fear. There was more pain than there was happiness, in fact she had learned long ago that most joy and love was feigned, something said because it was supposed to be said. There was a thread of hope in those words that one day they would ring true for some, but in her experience few knew love and and even fewer knew joy. That is why she never sought any sentiment in particular, she simply collected what she found.
That was why she partook in chess. Unlike magic, which required passions that she lacked, chess was a game of cold logic sans passion. She played in silence, Arthur did all the talking, she was confident that he was either slightly mad and answers the queries of an unheard, imaginary friend or he was merely conversing with himself.
Chess was an exercise of the mind, while Erin lacked in a number of ways her intelligence was extraordinary. Her choices were not shadowed in fear or a desire to protect any piece in particular, rather to complete an objective goal and that was to capture the enemy king. Yet there were moments of oversight. Moments where she was distracted. There were a few distractions in Hogwarts -- once upon a time it was Marcus, then it was Leeds and more recently Howard. Of those mentioned, two of the three had become scarce these past few months. She had not seen either since the start of this new year. Howard, if and when Howard passed her attention would be temporarily lost. He was delectable. There was also this sudden psychic scream that she would feel deep in her bones, anger and anguish somehow laced together in a venomous way -- the usual... a break-up but teens had a knack for the dramatic. It would rattle her to her core, something she often pursued in moments where she was not otherwise occupied but this was her hour to do something besides hunt or practice her craft.
First move. She usually played black. So she would wait for his opening. Hopefully he would not allow her the fool's mate and end the game prematurely. He didn't. It was a cascade of scenarios. The 3-move, the scholars, the five-move. He was not falling for the same tricks twice, improving or at least remembering what failed before. Adaptability was an admirable trait, it was sad how few people had it. "Why do you keep showing up?" Erin asked as she moved her queen across the board, she took no pieces. "There has to be better company," her finger lifted from the crown on top of the queen. She had left her king exposed, she knew this when she relinquished her hold.
Victory was intended to be his.
"But here you are week after week," she pondered out loud. "Are you so... desperate for amity?" She was hardly good company, she was a monster and she knew it. Thus far their encounters have been enlightening but for a reason besides what she could take from him. The boy did not have anything that she valued. She was likely the sadder of the two but she would never be capable of truly understanding this fact. "I have a feeling I can find something... more engaging."
Take your victory Arthur, we have better things to do.
In this study of the human condition she had a great many things to learn, may as well find a fall-guy.
She did not pity the Hufflepuff, she was not capable of doing so. But still she was there each day at this destined time. She did not say anything, she never did. She would just wait for her turn in silence, her eyes darting from the board to the other students that passed. Students were an interesting breed, needy and entitled, self-important and in most cases the same -- fearful. Fear she had discovered was a driving force for most, the fear of ridicule, of failure, of punishment forces them to conform. She did not know what they feared, only that there was fear. The fear was often stronger than the pain, the loss or the sadness one would feel. A curiosity truly.
For most it was the same, socially inept pre-teens dealing with the rigors of academia, the changes in their body and the freedom to discover the potential of their magical heritage. For Erin it was different, yes she would grow up as any child would but her experience was wholly different. She saw or rather felt the world and the people in it differently. She could feel them with a burning intensity, their fears and their shallow ambitions, their jealousy and their fear. There was more pain than there was happiness, in fact she had learned long ago that most joy and love was feigned, something said because it was supposed to be said. There was a thread of hope in those words that one day they would ring true for some, but in her experience few knew love and and even fewer knew joy. That is why she never sought any sentiment in particular, she simply collected what she found.
That was why she partook in chess. Unlike magic, which required passions that she lacked, chess was a game of cold logic sans passion. She played in silence, Arthur did all the talking, she was confident that he was either slightly mad and answers the queries of an unheard, imaginary friend or he was merely conversing with himself.
Chess was an exercise of the mind, while Erin lacked in a number of ways her intelligence was extraordinary. Her choices were not shadowed in fear or a desire to protect any piece in particular, rather to complete an objective goal and that was to capture the enemy king. Yet there were moments of oversight. Moments where she was distracted. There were a few distractions in Hogwarts -- once upon a time it was Marcus, then it was Leeds and more recently Howard. Of those mentioned, two of the three had become scarce these past few months. She had not seen either since the start of this new year. Howard, if and when Howard passed her attention would be temporarily lost. He was delectable. There was also this sudden psychic scream that she would feel deep in her bones, anger and anguish somehow laced together in a venomous way -- the usual... a break-up but teens had a knack for the dramatic. It would rattle her to her core, something she often pursued in moments where she was not otherwise occupied but this was her hour to do something besides hunt or practice her craft.
First move. She usually played black. So she would wait for his opening. Hopefully he would not allow her the fool's mate and end the game prematurely. He didn't. It was a cascade of scenarios. The 3-move, the scholars, the five-move. He was not falling for the same tricks twice, improving or at least remembering what failed before. Adaptability was an admirable trait, it was sad how few people had it. "Why do you keep showing up?" Erin asked as she moved her queen across the board, she took no pieces. "There has to be better company," her finger lifted from the crown on top of the queen. She had left her king exposed, she knew this when she relinquished her hold.
Victory was intended to be his.
"But here you are week after week," she pondered out loud. "Are you so... desperate for amity?" She was hardly good company, she was a monster and she knew it. Thus far their encounters have been enlightening but for a reason besides what she could take from him. The boy did not have anything that she valued. She was likely the sadder of the two but she would never be capable of truly understanding this fact. "I have a feeling I can find something... more engaging."
Take your victory Arthur, we have better things to do.
In this study of the human condition she had a great many things to learn, may as well find a fall-guy.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
9 Nov 2018, 14:35
Your Move
I think you might have gotten preoccupied elsewhere. Basically she was performing an experiment on some of the students, she was going to tell some girls that you had a secret crush on them but were super shy. See what happens. If you want that to have happened, by all means you can claim it or we can resume at a later point. Just message me if you wish to carry on.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...