21 Aug 2024, 06:50
A Cello and a Boy
Reducio
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This was not a very sunny day. In fact, the sun was hidden behind the thick clouds; rather gloomy, to be honest. And cold, too, for a weekend in May. There was a small breeze blowing around, rustling through the new, sprouting leaves of the trees of the school grounds of Beauxbâtons.
In the east wing of the castle, in the boy's dormitories, to be exact, a boy was kneeling besides his bed. On the bed, rested a big, dark mass of something. At a closer glance, one would notice that was actually was a cello. That kind of musical instrument belonging to the violin family, with strings and a bow to make sound. And this particular boy seemed to be stroking it, like one would typically do with a cat.
There was no one else in the dormitory. That was fairly normal, since it was a Sunday afternoon. The boy- who's name, by the way, was Clément, stood up, and put his cello into a nearby cello case, zipped it close, and hauled it onto his bag.
He peered out of the window. Good, not many people were outside, he thought. He especially chose that afternoon to go out and play cello because he didn't want nobody to hear him. He wasn't exactly bad at play cello, nor was he shy or anything- he just wasn't in the mood to force a smile for anybody who'd congratulate him about his music.
A few minutes later, Clément was found strolling towards the west side of the castle gardens. Only this area offered an intimate space for those who wished to remain to themselves- it had hedges separating the space into a couple squares.
Clément went into one of them. There was a stone table and bench placed in the middle of it. Taking out his cello and bow, he sat on the bench.
He took a deep breath. And he started playing.
Notes vibrated through the air as the bow in the boy's hand zigzagged on the metal strings of the instrument.
His closed eyes let a tear drop on his cheeks.
Elisa Wagner | Clément Guillaume Cantegrel
SHOP | GALLERY
sta 8 - eva 9 - str 4 - wis 7 - arc 9 - acc 9
SHOP | GALLERY
sta 8 - eva 9 - str 4 - wis 7 - arc 9 - acc 9
7 Sep 2024, 04:18
A Cello and a Boy
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@Aurélie Duval @Ophelia Northwell
Now today, Peter was to meet another French person. Two to be exact. Not that he hated French people or anything, oh Merlin, he had always loved the French ’s history and words, but as a complete Welsh boy, just the actual language always felt weird on his tongue. Weird. Hey, English felt weird to when he was learning it, too. So French was gonna get normal soon. He sure did hope
Armed with books, Peter took the stairs down, down to his dorm. He planned to look up more French history but other things stopped him. As he went to the library, music notes swirled and twisted in quirky beautiful zigs and zags. Almost if drawn, Peter walked to the source. It was a boy playing a cello. The music was beautiful.
A tear slid down the boy’s check...
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12 Sep 2024, 02:27
A Cello and a Boy
Interacting with @Elisa Wagner as Clement Cantegel and @Brooklyn Quinn as Peter Smith.
It was not a very nice day at Beauxbatons. The sun had hidden behind the clouds, and the air was chilled, like a ghost had passed through. It was like nature had completely forgotten that it was May, and that summer was on the way. Zendra didn't like this kind of weather, as it forced her to discard her skirts and put on something a little more practical. Today, she wore a white dress shirt, a blue sweater, beige pants, and cute white booties. It wasn't an awful look, but she'd rather be wearing something frilly and light. Another downside of the weather was that it delayed her gardening plans for a good while. She was outside now, heading towards the west gardens, but how was she supposed to bed out her tulips if the ground was as hard as a rock?
Zendra arrived near the edge of the garden and started arranging her pots and supplies. As, she was about to kneel down and start working, the sound of a stringed instrument stopped her in her tracks. She didn't know much about music, but she could tell that whoever was playing was very talented. Intrigued, she rounded the hedge from which the music was coming. There sat a boy, maybe a bit younger than Zendra herself, who was playing what looked like a cello. She was about to applaud him when she noticed a tear running down his cheek. He must be really entranced, Zendra thought, crossing the small area to sit on a bench near him. She didn't call attention to herself at all, just sat and watched.
"Waouh Wow," she breathed, almost too quiet to hear.
278 words. #132444.
Last edited by Nora De Carie on 14 Sep 2024, 02:48, edited 1 time in total.
12 Sep 2024, 15:19
A Cello and a Boy
Reducio
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Role playing as Clément Cantegrel from Beauxbâtons
Absorbed in his music, the boy did not notice the arrival of one, then another, of his peers, a certain Peter Smith and Zendra Blanchet. He did feel, however, a warm breeze carrying a peaceful and relaxing air around with it.
Clément let his muscles relax, his bow still zigzagging across the cello strings.
He felt the warm drop of tear sliding down his cheek, to his chin, and on his neck, finally touching the rim of his uniform.
He let the final note hang in the air around him. Slowly, calmly, he opened his eyelids.
A student- no, two- were there, one standing and the other sitting.
Clément froze, his right arm still hanging in mid air, holding the bow. How long had they been there? he thought quietly to himself.
He let his arm drop to his side with a rather sharp slap.
"Mais qu'est-ce que vous faites là? What are you doing here?" Clément demanded, his tone fierce and his eyebrows frowning, all while looking furiously left and right at the newcomers.
This special piece of music was dedicated to his father. Nobody else should have the right to hear it, to admire it, to be struck by the melancholic and nostalgic notes that were addressed to his father, and his father only.
His father was the person who had introduced him to this part of Beauxbâtons castle. His father used to play cello here as well when he was at school.
He heaved a big, heavy sigh. Clément was tired, tired at being rude and furious for no good reason, tired for crying on his pillow at night and returning every owl his mother sent him.
Elisa Wagner | Clément Guillaume Cantegrel
SHOP | GALLERY
sta 6 | eva 10 | str 3 | wis 9 | arc 8 | acc 10
SHOP | GALLERY
sta 6 | eva 10 | str 3 | wis 9 | arc 8 | acc 10
22 Sep 2024, 02:34
A Cello and a Boy
Interacting with @Elisa Wagner as Clement Cantegel and @Brooklyn Quinn as Peter Smith.
As the boy reached the final notes of the piece, Zendra's hands drew together to clap, but she merely clasped them together. The song had been something out of this world, so drawn together with emotion that she felt like she would destroy what it left behind if she made the smallest of sounds. It was only when the boy opened his eyes that she realized that she'd walked in on something private.
"Mais qu'est-ce que vous faites là? What are you doing here?" demanded the player, his eyebrows furrowing. He glanced furiously between Zendra and someone else, a boy standing nearby that she hadn't noticed before. He seemed similarly impressed by the cellist's skills.
Zendra had initially assumed the reason for the cellist's tear was from pure connection to the piece, but now she realized it was more than that. It clearly meant something to him, and she wondered what was making him feel such grief. Last time she'd felt the pain in that song was when her mom kicked out her dad, and that was nearly four years ago. She knew it was probably very personal, and given his reaction, he probably didn't want strangers poking their nose in his business, but she couldn't just see someone so clearly in pain and not try to help.
"Apologies for the intrusion," Zendra offered smoothly, hands now folded neatly in her lap, "but that was a gorgeous piece." She hesitated before adding, "Does it mean a lot to you?"
250 words. #132444.
29 Sep 2024, 10:49
A Cello and a Boy
Reducio
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Role playing as Clément Cantegrel from Beauxbâtons
For just a second, Clément sat, stunned at the girl's politeness. People didn't usually react that way when the boy let off his fierce temper - they mostly just eyed him curiously and went away. This girl did not. Her voice was as polite as could be, and had just the right amount of gentleness to not sound like one was pitied.
Clément recovered his bad tempered attitude almost immediately. He stood up, still clutching his cello, and glared furiously at the girl in question - or at least, tried to do so. He quickly found out that he was unable to give out a true, sharp, glare like the one he had given his unwelcome audience earlier. This glare was not as cold and hard as it had been... the words 'gorgeous piece' happened to have struck his heart in just the right place.
Plopping himself heavily back down on the stone bench, he heaved another sigh. He was really tired of being furious at anybody and everybody for no reason.
"Désolé... sorry...", he grumbled. He didn't bother to answer the girl's question - he didn't want to give an explanation to all this, not now.
Clément looked down to his knees. He must seem so stupid right now.
Elisa Wagner | Clément Guillaume Cantegrel
SHOP | GALLERY
sta 6 | eva 10 | str 3 | wis 9 | arc 8 | acc 10
SHOP | GALLERY
sta 6 | eva 10 | str 3 | wis 9 | arc 8 | acc 10
2 Nov 2024, 13:40
A Cello and a Boy
Come to enjoy this boy ’ music too? It is very enchanting. Peter wished he could say, but he didn’t want to interrupt the boy’s playing. It was beautiful. He clapped his hands in applause when the boy finished.
“Mais qu'est-ce que vous faites là? What are you doing here?” The boy spoke, angry that two student intruded on his playing. Peter nodded at the boy as the girl spoke perhaps for the both of them? Again, Peter did not know the answer to that question.
“Apologies for the intrusion, but that was a gorgeous piece,” The girl said, and Peter nodded quite quickly, as if sayinghis thoughts, Yes! Yes, beautiful piece!
“Désolé... sorry” The boy said, his voice in a tight grumble. Now was a time for Peter to speak, “Oh, yes! No need to be sorry, although I should apologize as well. Quite sorry for intruding. Though, what a wonderful piece! And I see, you want to practice, alone again. yes?” He said in French, his French a bit hesitant. Peter took a step before anyone said anything else.
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