It was like a living nightmare. Everywhere she went, she was expected to talk. Finding her voice, even to privately whisper spells to herself, was so hard when she was in a crowded room, and in virtually every class they uttered the words 'partner up.' She always sat in the back corner, hoping to be invisible. Hoping her neighbour would turn the other way and leave her to fail in silence by herself.
After what felt like a very long first week, she had cloistered herself in the music room. Every young lady was supposed to be proficient in some type of instrument. Effie played harpsichord (or piano, if this was not available), Delphine sang, and she herself had been taught harp from an early age. The idea, of course, was that she would be able to entertain guests at parties but as she had not yet been introduced to society, that particular form of torture had not yet been visited upon her. She dreaded the thought of the day when she was forced to put herself in front of an audience. For now though, it was a private pleasure. Her music teacher had always been gentle and patient with her, making her feel that she accomplished what was required with some measure of skill and grace. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that playing the instrument didn't require her to speak (although she certainly had the capacity to crumble into physical as well as verbal clumsiness when placed under pressure, as her dance lessons had proved all too vividly).
Although the music room could provide whatever she desired, she had brought her own instrument. Thankfully, not a full scale harp, but a smaller Celtic variety, which was much easier for her to carry about, aided by the featherlight charm on the case (the instrument itself could not be charmed for risk of upsetting the tuning). Instruments were personal and she wanted her own with her. Even if the room provided a copy, it couldn't be the same. You couldn't replace something with sentimental value, however clever your spells were. For the same reason, she had collected some of her own favourite sheet music, though she was curious to see what the room might suggest for her.
Stepping in, she found a plainish set-up. The walls were half timbered, with the upper portion painted cream. There were two items inside; a beautiful wrought iron music stand, worked with ornate swirls, and a little stool in front of it with a prettily embroidered cushion showing a stave of music bordered by flowers. This faced a large window which looked out onto a garden. A trellis of roses wound its way around the frame, just visible as they strayed inwards. The neatly laid beds burst with all imaginable colours yet somehow remained neat and orderly in a way Araceli could never have achieved if she was designing a garden.
She set her music upon the stand, choosing a favourite ballad of hers. It was about a witch who lost her lover at sea. She vowed to master all the elements in order to win him back from the ocean but however strong her powers got, she could not make the sea yield, and eventually died of a broken heart. Araceli practised it sometimes with Delphine. Her sister sung it beautifully, that could not be denied, but Araceli felt she didn't do it with feeling. Delphine complained all the time of being left out, of being alone because she wasn't sent to school like the others but she didn't understand it really. Mother took her out at every opportunity to introduce her to people, to help her make connections and she revelled in it. And, for all that the two of them had been had home together for the last five years, her allegiance had never shifted; she had always remained closest to Effie in spite of the distance. Two sisterly peas in their little sororal pod.
Araceli didn't know what love was like, much less how it felt to lose it but she understood loneliness. When she played, she poured her heart into the song. This time, he poured in the week's worth of words that had stuck in her throat, the feelings of inadequacy and the fear that she'd lost all her chances to make any friends. She didn't add her voice, she wasn't a singer, but she felt all the missed opportunities, the attempts at invisibility, all the times when it hadn't worked, and all the times when it had, and the fact that she didn't know which was worse, flowing out as she played. Other people had felt what she had. Not here, not now and not for the same reasons but someone had understood and found a way to put it down. She was so grateful for that, and the validation that it was reasonable to feel the way she did.
The last note faded and she felt like some great catharsis had taken place, even though the song had a sad ending. She had planned to stay here most of the morning but nothing else occurred to her to play immediately. Perhaps something would, perhaps it wouldn't. For the time being, she was content to sit with the weight having been lifted from her shoulders, and to take time to enjoy that feeling. At least, that was the plan, until a voice behind her spoke....
OOC – whilst posts are generally open for anyone to reply to, it would really help me out if someone replied to this who Araceli could be friends with (without it being complicated), which means someone who is Pureblood, and preferably reasonably unintimidating/easy to befriend. This takes place at the end of the first week.
Tobi didn't really know why he was in the MARS rooms. He had planned to go for a walk in the Labyrinth Gardens- the closest thing the school had to a forest, but he had gotten a little bit lost as it was only his first week at school and he hadn't particularly been paying too much attention when he'd left the Teppenpaw common rooms for the Gardens anyhow. He was actually about to turn around and leave when he remembered that one of the rooms had the ability to form any body of water simulating things from ponds to lakes to oceans. He wondered if he would be able to create an environment similar to his favorite spot along the river near his house.
However, as he lay his hand upon the door to the water room, he heard beautiful, enchanting music coming out from one of the other doors. Tobi hesitated for a moment, wanting to reveal in the notes- short and plucked, so unlike the easy cello pulls that he was so used to. This song did not make him want to sing like how the beats of the drum made him want to sing with his “uncles” and “grandfather.” Nevertheless he still enjoyed the melody and found that his feet were walking against his will towards the music room. Tobi opened the door just as the song ended. He let the last few notes hang in the air and fade before opening his mouth to speak. He was not normally a very talkative person, but he felt kind of creepy to just be standing there seemingly watching a girl sit in a nearly empty room. He could only imagine what the scene might look like to someone passing by.
“That was really beautiful,” he said, his soft voice carrying father than it normally would have during a class, for example, when there were dozens of students happily chattering about their summers. Tobi flushed, his tan skin turning only slightly pink in his upper cheekbones. “I’m sorry if you wanted to be left alone though- I was just passing by and I heard the music and…” He trailed off, feeling slightly awkward and unsure of himself. “I guess I just wanted to say that I thought your playing was lovely, that’s all. And also that you seem to be a very talented witch.”
Tobi wasn’t used to conversing with others. He talked to his siblings and cousins frequently, and with the neighboring Chinook children when he had to engage in conversation with them, but he preferred being alone with his thoughts. He did love when his “uncles” called him to join in their singing and drums, finding the group activity to be very cathartic but in general he tended to avoid group activities as it meant a lot of unwanted socializing. Which was why when his cousin, Liac, asked him to try out for the Quidditch team he politely declined. He had offered to come and show his support but Liac hadn’t taken him seriously or something and had told him it wasn’t necessary.
He fidgeted a little, twisting his fingers in front of him before blurting out; “My name is Tobias Reinhardt. The second.” He wasn’t quite sure why he tacked that bit onto his name as he disliked it but he felt awkward and the room was silent and for some reason he felt like he had to take the silence away. “Of the Washington Reinhardts. Pleased to meet you, ….?” He trailed off again, realizing that he didn’t know who the witch in front of him was.
OOC: Sorry, Tobi’s a little quiet too but I figured that perhaps they could find kindred spirits in each other? It seems the reasons for their respective quietness is different but it could still work :)
10Tobias Reinhardt IIFinding mine as well.289Tobias Reinhardt II05
Araceli jumped as a voice spoke behind her, almost dropping her harp and coming inches from kicking over the music stand in what would have been a noisy and embarrassing clatter. Thankfully, she did neither. Turning on the stool, she found a boy from her own year in the doorway, and wracked her brains for information. She'd tried to pay attention during roll-call to who was who but she was usually reeling from having her own name called out, and having her answer that she was, indeed, present sticking in her throat.
She blushed as he complimented her playing. She hadn't really been listening critically to her own performance, the way she did when she was assigned practise pieces, so she couldn't really be sure whether he was just being polite. Perhaps she might have thought she had played well but she was unaccustomed to evaluating herself in these circumstances, when she was playing for pleasure, much less used to finding positive results if she did. She knew she should reply to the kind compliment. She glanced around the room. Her room, that had been made for her to be safe and happy in...
“Thank you,” she managed. Her voice was barely louder than the dying notes of her piece had been but in the stillness of the room they stood out clearly enough. She almost expected her voice to have dried up, to have become rusted and hoarse after its week in hibernation, but it was soft and gentle, still the same as it had been before she'd shut it up. A small smile of surprise flickered over her features before she realised that the boy wouldn't understand what she was looking so giddy about. She suppressed the smile hastily.
There was a little silence and she wondered whether she maybe should have said more. She should definitely have made a comment about her playing needing improving or some such, in order to show modesty but the moment had passed. Hopefully he wouldn't think her arrogant (it was hard to imagine that anyone could mistakenly form this opinion from her silence, as she half hid, blushing behind her blonde locks). Still, she felt freer and happier than she had all week. The feeling of her throat closing up wasn't there – there was the threat of it, the worry it could come back at any moment, but it wasn't there right at that moment and that was something.
“I am Araceli Arbon, of the Arbon family of Maine.” It was something she'd had drilled into her, a sentence that required no thought, no choosing of the right words, and his use of the same formula made it easier for that to come out, even though she'd struggled all week to give it when required. And he was a Pureblood, like her. She had been so surprised and so caught up in needing to reply to him, and managing to, that she had, rather foolishly, forgotten to wonder whether she ought to be speaking to him at all. It was a relief to find out that it was alright. She gave him a tentative smile, a more inclusive one than her earlier private relief had been. Her hands had relaxed a little on the harp as she managed to make her introduction but now they weren't holding on for dear life, they found need for some other occupation, and one made its way to twist a sliver of hair round its fingers (a nervous habit that mother disapproved of) as she realised she wasn't sure what to say next.
OOC - Hopefully! It might lead to a few pauses and awkward silences but I'm sure we can coax them along.
Tobi’s voice must have startled the girl, because she gave a small jump before turning around. Tobi realized that he recognized her from his classes and he was fairly sure that her name began with an A but he didn’t want to guess in case he was wrong. Tobi was generally pretty good with names and faces- not a trait he liked to brag about, often downplaying his ability so that the other person didn’t feel as bad for forgetting who he was.
“Thank you,” she said in response to his compliment before smiling a little. The smile vanished nearly as quickly as it had appeared though so Tobi wasn’t quite sure if it had even been there to begin with. But she was polite, so that was good. Her blonde hair made him wary to fully trust her as it reminded him of the students who had teased himself and his siblings while walking to and from the town to the smaller town and community of Chinooks that they lived amongst.
Araceli Arbon. So, double As. He hadn’t been off at all with her name and he was glad for it as it meant he had not lost his knack for memory. The girl opposite him twisted some hair around her finger in a way he had noticed a lot of the older girls in his community did when they were talking to guys or adults, and it made him wonder why they did that. He understood the allure of long hair- his own hair, dark and thick, was generally pulled back into a ponytail but he was pretty good about not touching it though there were many a night he sat in front of his little sister, allowing her to play with the strands as her own hair was always tied into a tight braid so that it would not snag on anything.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Arbon,” Tobi said, flashing a smile of straight, white teeth. While he disliked all the proper formalities of being a Pureblood as he felt it gave people an insincere air of caring, he went through the motions anyway knowing that he had to make his family proud. He and Liac were the first Reinharts to set foot in Sonora afterall. “Officially, at least.” He paused, unsure of what to say yet still feeling like he ought to say something. “How long have you been playing? Harp, I mean.”
As he waited for her reply, he wandered further into the room, finding himself near the window. His fingers reached out to touch the soft flowers and he closed his eyes, his back turned to Araceli, and breathed in deeply. The scent that filled his nose was unlike that of the crisp, Pacific Northwest, but it was still earthy in its own right and that alone made a small part of him pang for home. He meant to write to his family immediately once he was back in the Teppenpaw dorms.
“I play cello,” he offered. “It’s kind of a tradition in my father’s family that all children learn an instrument.” The Reinharts were a prominent crafts family in Germany known for their metal charming but not any particular object in specific. While Tobi didn’t really enjoy playing the cello, he did so any way as his grandfather did not count the Chinook drums as an instrument nor singing (of any form).
10Tobias Reinhardt IIJust put one foot in front of the other...289Tobias Reinhardt II05
“It's a pleasure to meet you too,” she smiled, relieved to have a script to stick to. She wondered whether she should curtsey... Effie had talked about how people curtseyed less at school and that often a sitting imitation of one would do but usually that was when you were both sitting... Mr. Reinhardt was standing, but she couldn't easily stand because she still had her instrument in her lap. All this flashed through her brain in a fraught and contradictory second before she decided to stand, bundling the harp onto the stool behind her, and curtsey properly. She regretted it almost the second she had done it as she was sure it had seemed incredibly awkward. Even the gestures that were supposed to be a code, to mark her out to her equals, made her stand out. She was supposed to be like them but she was always failing at it.
She was relieved by his prompt change of subject, and that it was something concrete that she could give an easy, clear answer to.
“Since I was five,” she replied.
She was surprised when Mr. Reinhardt entered further into the room instead of turning tail, abandoning her as a hopeless case. Her first thought was that he was lingering in order to tease her for her lack of grace. Ignatius, her brother, didn't care much for her but he sometimes sought her out deliberately when he was in a spiteful mood. Her tension mounted as he took his time, admiring the features of the room. By the time he turned, she looked positively poised to fly, an effect not helped by the fact that she was naturally wide-eyed and startled looking, even on those rare occasions when she was feeling perfectly level.
It took a moment for his words to sink in. Normal conversation was the last thing she had been expected and it threw her off balance. As she found it a tricky enough matter to begin with, this was something of an insurmountable obstacle. It was interesting that Mr. Reinhardt played an instrument too. She hoped to be able to hear him play. She also liked the fact that everyone in his family was taught an instrument, as it was the same in hers, sort of – the girls learnt instruments (would it be insulting to bring this up and suggest that it was unmanly for him to do so? She liked that he did and didn't want to insinuate that in the slightest). She tried to work out how to put all of that into a succinct and elegantly phrased sentence and found her mind a blank. She would only bungle it, as she had the decision to curtsey.... She managed to acknowledge his words with half a smile and a mute nod. Unbeknownst to her, behind her head, a painting had appeared on the wall. It showed three girls, one of whom was unmistakably Araceli, poised with her harp, and the other two made much in the same mould as her though considerably older looking. One was seated with her fingers on the keys of a harpsichord, whilst the other stood in front with only a sheet of music in her hands and her mouth open.
13Araceli ArbonIsn't that for walking?290Araceli Arbon05
Metaphorically speaking, a good way to start is to stand.
by Tobias Reinhardt II
Araceli Arbon (though he spoke with formality, Tobi rather disliked the entire institution, finding it oddly pretentious and too stuffy for his rather laid-back, quiet attitude) declared it was a pleasure to meet him, accompanied with a strange sort of curtsy, and Tobi bobbed his head in response, not calling her out on it and instead asking after how long she had played the harp.
“Since I was five,” she replied, and Tobi nodded. His little sister, Matti had just turned five and she was learning how to play the viola. Since he had chosen the cello and Aarne the violin, Matti had reasoned the only things missing were a viola and second violin which she would be sure to force four-year old Lukas into playing that so the four of them could form a quartet. She had conveniently left Baby out of the arrangement which only gave Tobi more reason to believe she was jealous that the unborn addition to the family would also be a girl, taking away some of the attention from her.
After telling Araceli Arbon about the cello, he wondered if he should go into his siblings and their abilities too but didn’t know how she would react to it. Although he didn’t particularly care if she liked him or not as he didn’t usually care much for company, instead preferring to spend his days in nature by himself, he didn’t want to startle what seemed to be a rather skittish girl-- if the way she had behaved when he’d first come into the room was anyway to go. In fact, the face she was displaying now was rather amusing and only served to prove Tobi’s idea about her further, and she gave him an odd sort of smile accompanied with a wordless nod.
Tobi shrugged his shoulders, trying to convey that he really could care less what kind of person she was so long as she was respectful so she didn’t need worry about making a good impression. He looked off behind her where a portrait of three girls playing music had recently appeared- while he was looking at the window or while he was shrugging he didn’t know. “That you?” He asked, nodding towards the one with the harp. Though he was certain he knew the answer, it could have been a portrait of her mother and aunts as young girls-- Matti certainly looked enough like his mother that Tobi figured most girls took after their mothers in such identical ways. “With…sisters? Or cousins?”
“Is music a family thing then?” Though more than anything he wished to retreat and go ahead into the Labyrinth Gardens as was originally planned, Tobi felt uncomfortable leaving abruptly and didn’t want to be rude. Besides, he felt rather sad for the girl who looked to lost and awkward.
10Tobias Reinhardt IIMetaphorically speaking, a good way to start is to stand.289Tobias Reinhardt II05