Jezebel Reed-Fischer
May 09, 2023 3:57 PM
Like ships in the night... [Martin] by Jezebel Reed-Fischer
OOC: Details of Jezebel's relationship with Martin confirmed with his author. BIC:
Wherein a pawn which has made three moves forward and will be passed by a pawn moving two spaces from home in the other direction - the passing pawn, which is a huge advantage for that pawn's player - may perform a capture by moving diagonally to the place directly behind the passing pawn. This is the only capture where the pieces do not land in the same place in order to achieve it.
The idea that Jezebel, who had worked so hard to make something of herself in a muggle world that told her her blood wasn't good enough and then in a magical one with much the same message, would make a sneaky backhanded capture was ridiculous. She had always played by the rules. She had always played by the book. Of course, this wasn't an illegal move, just a shady one, and it did depend on the other player coming in close with the goal of leaving her behind... Still, if she was the one making the capture, then it felt like her fault.
It had been a long time since she'd played chess, as it had been a long time since she'd seen her only companion in that endeavor. They'd tried to make it work... he'd tried to figure out if there was a way to make a relationship for them work, and when the only option he could come up with was mistress, she'd tried to pretend she wasn't entirely revolted at the idea. They'd even made it work once. Just once. After that, he'd suggested friends. She knew he didn't want to suggest it, but nor did she want to be a side player in the big life game of a much more important character than herself, especially when it was her blood status that got in the way. She'd tried too hard to pretend that loving someone was enough to be in love with them and her efforts hadn't mattered at all in the end. Now that she knew what real love really felt like, it was hard to imagine she'd ever had it before anyway.
It had been almost two years since they'd seen each other last, not that long after her own graduation from Sonora, and now here she was, dressed in a simple red sweater and jeans, standing on the doorstep of a home that never welcomed her.
"You ready?" she asked. She didn't expect an answer, but it seemed right to at least ask anyway.
She rang the doorbell and listened to the magically charmed tunes that rang around inside, like lullabies to no one. Merlin, she hoped there was no one... that would be awkward.
Her hands ran across the material of her sweater one last time as she saw someone approaching the door from the other side, and then she dropped them to her side. A small hand reached back up to grab her finger and she took it, running her thumb across the back of tiny fingers.
When the door swung open and it was Martin, Jezebel immediately looked away, crouching down beside a child with thick black hair, wide green eyes, and a stoic if not outright tragic expression. It was the expression she always wore, a default genetic carryover from her parents. Together, they looked up at Martin and Jezebel immediately regretted lowering herself even further than she already was by coming here; she kissed the child on the cheek and stood back up. He was still taller. She hated him for it.
"She just turned one last month," she said quietly. The starry sky suddenly felt oppressive, as if it were watching her every move very closely, refusing to let what was done in the dark remain there. "Her name is Passant," she added, trusting him to remember the old chess move he'd taught her so long ago. "She's yours."
OOC: En Passant is a chess move, described at the beginning. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/En_passant
22
Jezebel Reed-Fischer
Like ships in the night... [Martin]
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Martin Crosby V
May 11, 2023 8:00 PM
Or maybe two pawns. by Martin Crosby V
It was not often that Martin Crosby V answered his own door, but his House Elf was useless, and he’d happen to be in the next room over at the time. The front parlor, to be exact, which was best suited to entertain. But Martin rarely entertained. In the summer he’d invited his kid sister to stay over, but most of the time, he simply sat there alone.He kept a chess board in the corner there, but it had done little but gather dust these last few years. The bachelor life suited him well enough, providing a respectable solitude. Of course, it would be ending soon with his upcoming marriage. The engagement to Katerina Vorontsov was, in all likelihood, the best he would be able to arrange. She was of a suitable family, and she herself was pleasant enough to tolerate, not to mention the enthusiastic response of his great-grandmother when she found out there would be more Russian speakers entering the family. Some branches of his family still spoke it, although his certainly did not. Still, having bilingual children would only be advantageous, he supposed.
Martin was a proper gentleman, and as such, his fiancee did not live with him in sin. He had never before been more grateful for this fact as he was the moment he opened the door. At first, he saw no one at eye level, but then glanced down and saw one person who was crouched and one person who was tiny.
Jezebel.
In most of his life, Martin was apathetic at best. He had only ever loved two in his life. One was his sister, and one stood before him now. Before she even spoke - before she introduced the little girl who looked a lot like her and a little like him - something in the pit of his stomach expanded with potential increase to three.
For a moment, he only stared, the shock rendering him paralyzed. Then he stepped aside in the doorway. “Come in,” he invited, his speech rushed, perhaps with an implied before someone sees you, although no one was watching. He turned to lead them inside, stepping back through the expansive foyer, beneath the extravagant chandelier and passed the spiraling stairway. Being an heir did have its perks.
He led them to the parlor and gestured for Jezebel to sit. He sat as well, at a responsible distance. He did not want to sit too close - he knew his limitations now, and what a weakness Jezebel was for him. “I.. don’t have much for her to play with here,” he stated, unsure. Martin cleared his throat. “But I’m not sure how much you want her to listen. We… clearly need to talk.”
OOC: Mentions of Katya approved by her author. Let me know if Jezebel wouldn't follow and I will edit.
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Martin Crosby V
Or maybe two pawns.
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Jezebel Reed-Fischer
May 28, 2023 1:35 AM
You've made it all the way across the board. by Jezebel Reed-Fischer
It was Passant who followed Martin into his own home and thus Jezebel followed her. She had been an early walker and moved with the confidence of someone who knew they weren't going to tolerate any sort of naysaying anyway so why give anyone time to say nay? Jezebel supposed she'd technically learned that from her but it was hard to believe when she knew herself to be the greatest naysayer in her life. When they arrived in a room not far from the front door that looked like everything was fragile, expensive, or both, Jezebel took a seat as lightly as she could. She hated that she couldn't plop, because she wanted to plop. She wanted to take up space. She couldn't quite find it in her just yet, though, especially as she wasn't entirely sure what it was that she was here to ask.Passant clearly had none of the same issues and Jezebel suspected the only thing that kept her from plopping was a certain tendency in toddlers to follow the lead of the nearest trustworthy grown up. The little girl betrayed both of her parents - though she only knew that title was true of one of them - by climbing up in an armchair with only one seat, taking neither the spot next to Martin nor that next to Jezebel. She looked around the room with apathetic eyes, clearly disappointed to find that neither the people present nor the other features of the environment were especially interesting. Deciding that the people were at least more likely to move, she fixed her gaze on Martin.
"She doesn't say more than a couple words yet," Jezebel said, dismissing some of Martin's most unspoken fears; this child would not repeat their conversation. "Get your toys, baby," she added to Passant, nodding at a small, dragon-shaped bracelet hidden beneath one of her long sleeves.
Passant fidgeted with it for a moment before managing to properly yank it off and drop it on the seat between her legs where it suddenly expanded into a teddy-bear sized stuffed dragon that breathed out little wisps of cotton flames and snuggled with Passant. Satisfied, the girl split her attention between her tiny friend - cooing at it happily in gibberish with occasional words like baby, pancake, and nonononono.
"We need to talk," Jezebel finally agreed with a slow sigh. "It's... good to see you," she decided with a grimace, disliking the admission. Her eyes flicked to her daughter for a moment. "I told her we were going to visit an old friend from school," she said softly. "I wasn't sure how you'd like to introduce yourself. I don't expect anything."
22
Jezebel Reed-Fischer
You've made it all the way across the board.
1454
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