I come bearing gifts. on Cascade Hall

Tatiana Vorontsova

January 25, 2018 10:06 PM

I come bearing gifts. by Tatiana Vorontsova

Tatiana returned to Sonora with her hat slightly askew, a casualty of the wagon bouncing a bit as it landed. Normally, she would have corrected it before she went into the building, but on the first day of her second year, this was not possible, because her hands were full of small parcels wrapped in paper.

Shopping in Volshebnaya Derevnya was not encouraged – people who made things came to them, not the other way around – but in the dachniki community her family visited, it was permissible and it had seemed only logical to find things for her friends while she was out. Jasmine’s gift – a set of three bright enameled bangles similar to the ones Jasmine had admired at Tatiana’s name-day party – had been easy to find, select, and purchase. Dorian and Jehan had been only a little more difficult – new little notebooks for their language studies, plus a little Franco-Russian dictionary and phrasebook each – because she’d taken the time to find notebook covers that she thought each boy would like. Finally, there had been Vladimir, whose gift had been easy to imagine (an Anglo-Russian dictionary) but hard to find. She had crowed over her prize so much when she finally did find two copies of one that the other girls had teased her about having an English sweetheart, which had resulted in a pillowfight, during with a missile thrown by Tatiana had missed Sonia and hit an entering Mama instead. Luckily, Mama had been in a good mood that day and had, after scolding them only mildly for their behavior, paused on her way out to throw the pillow back, nearly knocking Tatiana down from the bed she’d been jumping on!

Tatiana loved it when they went away in the summer.

That, however, was over, with only her bundles of gifts and a fading suntan she had acquired despite Mama’s best efforts to prevent it as the only things left to show for it. Tatiana tried not to think too wistfully about it all as she went into the Cascade Hall, found a seat near the front of the Hall, and waited for the first friend. When she saw one, forgetting the pleasures of summer became much easier as she stood to wave that person over, calling out in her accented English and waving so two of her bracelets clinked together merrily.

16 Tatiana Vorontsova I come bearing gifts. 1396 Tatiana Vorontsova 1 5

Dorian Montoir

January 26, 2018 9:28 AM

I come thinking about someone I miss by Dorian Montoir

As per his first year, and his return from Midterm break, when Dorian stepped off the wagon, there was a sagey tang of arnica on his skin, not normally present during the term. Matthieu had seen him off for the year with a dead arm, and he'd just had time to nip into the washroom before boarding the wagon and to apply some bruise balm to it, which would not only stop the bruise from forming, but had the added benefit of numbing it. It felt better by the time he arrived at school, though there was a hint of the clean medicinal smell still hanging about him. He found that the distance also did a lot to push his brother to the back of his mind, slowly fading out like the pain in his arm. It was easier not to think of him when he was at Sonora, out from under Matthieu's shadow, in this happy, warm place where he was wanted and liked. He knew that once he had his friends around him again, he'd feel completely better. Matthieu made him feel small and vulnerable... He made him feel somehow fragmented. Having his friends around filled him up and made his soul feel whole. People often said that love was the most powerful kind of magic, and he had always believed it, but it was very different experiencing that for real.

Professor Xavier was by the wagons to get new first years, meaning he got his house password straight away, but he didn't go up to Teppenpaw. He would sit with his housemates for the feast, and wanted to see his friends in other houses first, especially as they were his two closest friends.

Even though he'd seen Jehan the most recently of all his friends, as they'd snuck in a glorious week long visit whilst Matthieu had been away at Quidditch camp, it was Jehan he sought when he dismounted the wagon. It had been a long couple of weeks adjusting back to having Matthieu after his friend's stay, and Jehan was the one most likely to provide him with the hugs and kind words that would sooth his soul, even if Jehan wouldn't know how much he needed it. Matthieu had also tried using Jehan against him. Dorian wasn't very good at hiding his feelings, or keeping his temper when Matthieu hit the nail on the head, and teasing him about Jehan was an easy way to get a reaction. He couldn't write to Jehan without worrying that Matthieu was going to steal his letter and laugh at him. He couldn't mention Jehan at the dinner table without Matthieu smirking and mouthing horrible things or making obscene gestures at him. It felt sometimes like Matthieu wanted to ruin the best thing he had in his life, and he just wanted to see Jehan to recalibrate; to know he was still real and everything was fine, and that nothing Matthieu had said had changed anything. Figuring that the MARS rooms would be popular for reunions and, as the youngest students currently free to roam the school, they were the lowest on the pecking order, Dorian thought they might head to the library instead... They could look out a couple of the volumes of poetry he'd found last year, and find a quiet corner where they could settle down, exchanging whispered summer news and talk about books. Peace, quiet, books, Jehan. It sounded perfect.

However, it was Tatya he saw first on entering the hall, and she very definitely wanted his attention as she stood, waving him over. He noticed the little stack of parcels on the table behind her, and initially wondered whether it was someone's birthday and that he didn't know about it because he hadn't been friends with them last year, but he knew it wasn't Jehan or Vlad's and he didn't know of Tatya having close enough friends to warrant presents outside of the Club of Tongues. Plus it seemed like a bit much for one person. He supposed he would find out in due course...

“Privet, salut, nihau,” he greeted her, “Oh, and hello. That other language,” he added. He smiled, and it wasn't that it was ungenuine – it reached all the way to his eyes – but he was definitely less animated than he had been when he parted ways from all of them at the bonfire. He put his arms around Tatya, hugging her firmly, and for just a moment longer than was entirely normal. “You don't forget me then?” he asked her. Tatya could be demonstrative in her affection but he felt the need to fish for the compliment in spite of the enthusiastic welcome.

“You look well. Good summer?” he asked. Tatya looked slightly tanned, although he elected not to mention this because he could never shake the feeling, bred by his mother, that it wasn't a good thing, regardless of how much Canadians and Americans seemed to prize it and, even if Alaska was technically one of the United States, Tatya was definitely not an American. His mother always fussed over them going in the sun, and had been doubly vigilant during Jehan's visit, afraid that if they took him outside they would 'ruin his pretty pale skin' and forcing sunblock and parasols on them. At least she hadn't enchanted the parasols to follow them, which he wouldn't have put past her. In spite of his mother's best efforts, he always returned from summer with his skin slightly darker. He took a seat next to Tatya, trying to not look inattentive to her answers, whilst also keeping half an eye on the door...

13 Dorian Montoir I come thinking about someone I miss 1401 Dorian Montoir 0 5

Tatiana

January 26, 2018 1:37 PM

I hope to provide distractions. by Tatiana

“No, no, no,” assured Tatiana, kissing Dorian on both cheeks after their hug. He smelled vaguely of medicine, she noticed – perhaps he had pulled a muscle in some late-summer sport; she had required fairly similar balms a few times over the summer. “I cannot forget Dorosha.”

Tatiana nodded when asked about her summer. “Good, yes. Alyosha is – big now,” she hedged, not sure which word she meant and not wanting to say Alyosha was very fat when that wasn’t what she meant. “But he remembers me. Anya has - molodoi chelovek.” She could not remember how to say ‘young man’ in English exactly, or at least not in a way she was sure would describe what she meant – a suitor. “Rodya this, Rodya that, he gives her a – jewel. Not ring.” Tatiana drew a circle on her shoulder with the tip of one finger to indicate where the jewel – a beautiful brooch of violet enamel with a single pearl in the center of the complicated flower design one had to look for - would be worn. “For shoulder. Pretty. I get Jasmine bracelets, but Anya’s is different – Rodya is molodoi chelovek.”

She decided that was as much as she could put together about Rodya and Anya, not least because she was disturbed by the thought of Anya having a young man, someone who she might marry. She knew the older girls would most likely eventually marry, and that even Grisha would marry a girl and live elsewhere eventually, but it was bad enough to be separated from them all during the year.

Besides, she did not think Dorya looked like he found this entirely interesting, so she decided it was better to switch to something a little more interesting to people other than her. “I shop a lot,” she said. “Here’s a present to you.” She picked up a parcel tied with yellow ribbon and put it in front of him.

16 Tatiana I hope to provide distractions. 1396 Tatiana 0 5

Dorian

January 26, 2018 8:29 PM

Partial success by Dorian

He returned Tatya's kisses, one on each cheek. He had definitely been right not to class her as American. Americans didn't understand very well about kissing, and that it really was to be used with everyone. He felt warmer for the hugs, the kisses and the compliments.

“It is nice writing with you in summer,” he added, with a half smile.

He listened carefully to her news. At first, following as it did from Alyosha being big, he assumed molodoi chelovek was some kind of physical feature that Anya had developed. However, the suggestion of jewellery painted a different picture.

“Ah... Rodya is the boy? The boy who like your sister?” he enquired. “And do we like him?” he checked. He knew Tatya loved her siblings very much, and he thought it must be strange for something like this to happen – someone new to appear in the family, who might make things change. Luckily, Émilie was still too young for that sort of thing. If any girl was stupid enough to want to take Matthieu, she would of course be more than welcome. Though sadly girls didn't take away boys from their family in quite the same way... “If some boy want to courtese my sister, he must be perfect,” or else what? his brain taunted. Was he going to go into defensive big brother mode and beat them up? Like he could intimidate anyone. He trusted Émilie to have better taste, but if some big gorilla started approaching her, what was he going to do about it? Useless little twig that he was. He sighed.

He was distracted from this by Tatya presenting him with a parcel.

“You bring presents? Oh, Tanushka, that is très gentille of you,” he stated, rather taken aback by the kind gesture. He carefully untied the ribbon, wound it neatly and laid it to one side, before unfolding the ends of the paper so that he was able to peel it apart and lift out the contents. He laughed happily when he saw what it was. “Spasiba, Tatya” he smiled, smoothing out the paper, “This will make much faster for me. And it is very beautiful notebook. I will think some beautiful things to write in it.” He leant over and kissed her again on each cheek, before his eyes inevitably drifted back to the doorway.

“I think you need some more friend to come,” he added, trying to cover his inattention, and make it seem like his focus wasn't drifting off. He felt bad, Tatya was being so sweet, and he was pleased to see her – very pleased, he loved her and had missed her – but she couldn't completely distract him from everyone else. “You look like you are ready to play Père Noël for everyone.”

(OOC – I assume that anyone else who walks in would be allowed to state that Tatya waves them over. And, if it's Jehan or Vlad, they may also assume that Dorian is on his feet ready to hug them by the time they get to the table).

13 Dorian Partial success 1401 Dorian 0 5

Jehan Callahan

January 29, 2018 4:34 PM

Am I a distraction? by Jehan Callahan

Being back home after visiting Dorian had been quite boring for Jehan. The time had seemed to drag, and not in that fun way of always having more time in which to do exciting things. He’d tried spending more time with Victor, but Victor had decided he was too old for imaginary games now, which had been one of the best bits of their times together. Victor had always had a wonderful imagination, but now he just wanted to have broomstick races and pester their father to let the boys leave the estate. Jehan had no interest in pestering his father – the answer was usually no, and Jehan had long known that his father preferred not to see him. Jehan usually managed to somehow say the wrong thing, and then Victor had to smooth things over. No, it was definitely better if he kept out of his father’s way.

He had tried reading more, scouring the library for obscure and interesting new books, but he missed being able to read parts aloud to Dorian, or ask for his friend’s thoughts.

He had tried to continue gardening, which he’d done a lot the year before starting school. However, his mother had discovered him having a long chat about muggles with the gardener, who was himself a half-blood. That had put a stop to gardening (well, at least limited it to when his mother was out).

All in all, it had been quite a relief to board the wagon and head back to Sonora for another year.

Jehan had seen Dorian fairly recently, but still he was very excited at the thought of seeing him once more. It was just so hard to go from spending every minute of the day with someone to enduring an agonising period of separation. They wrote to each other a lot, but it wasn’t the same as actually talking, face-to-face.

He headed straight for the Cascade Hall when he arrived, planning to check if Dorian was there before looking in the MARS rooms. But his first instinct was right, and he hurried across the hall the second he saw Dorian’s small frame. Tatya was with him too, which was even better – two reunions for the price of one!

The second Jehan reached them he was engulfed in a Dorian-hug, which was…he wanted to say nice, and, really, hugs were nice, especially hugs for being reunited with Dorian, but this hug was also a little off, perhaps? Dorian had dived inside the hug, with Jehan’s arms around him. And it wasn’t a happy hug, but something more fierce, serious. Added to that was a faint smell of something vaguely familiar – bruise balm, that was it! Jehan was used to the smell from Victor, who always seemed to be scraping his knees or elbows, but Dorian wasn’t rough like Victor.

“Ca va?” he asked Dorian, momentarily forgetting to say a proper hello to his friends. “I missed you too. Have you hurt yourself?”

Hugging Dorian a little more tightly rather than letting go (Jehan never liked to be the person ending a hug), Jehan smiled at Tatya, putting aside his worry to greet her. “Privet! Did you have a fun summer?” he asked.

OOC: Hugging and details discussed with Dorian's author

9 Jehan Callahan Am I a distraction? 1398 Jehan Callahan 0 5

Tatiana

January 30, 2018 7:17 PM

Six of one, half a dozen of the other. by Tatiana

“You too - and it keeps up English, French to me, little,” said Tatiana of their admittedly something-less-than-scintillating letters over the summer. “Speak English with Katya and Papa and Nadezhda and Anton Petrovich and Sofya Antonovna, but not so much as here.”

“Oui, merci - Rodya Mikhailovich est - mal’chik.” The abrupt switch to Russian as she forgot the French word for ‘boy’ likely jangled on Dorian’s ear and she made an apologetic little face. “Je - on aime, chut-chut - “ This time she didn’t notice herself slip into Russian as she elaborated that she more or less liked Rodya - “mais ne lyublyu Anya zhenit’sya - ” she realized she was speaking Russian again and that Dorian most likely wouldn’t know the word for a girl getting married. “Ya ne lyublyu Anya - going to Rodya, maybe. Maybe not be Vorontsova anymore - be Gospozha Bazhenova. See?” Yes, thanks - Rodya Vladimirovich is a boy. I like him, so-so, but I don’t like the idea of Anya getting married.

Dorian at least seemed to understand as he talked about his sister. “You good brother,” she said approvingly as she isolated his parcel.

She beamed, happy he was happy with the contents, and carried on as Jehan joined them - at least until his and Dorian’s hug went on a bit long and he used a word in English which she knew, but couldn’t pin down - teachers said it a lot, along with the easier word not.

“Bonjour, Vanyahan” said Tatiana, mixing Russian and French versions of his name. “Yes, happy summer - thanks for word.” The English for ‘leto’ had slipped her mind. “And you? I give you good day - Dorocha says I am Snegurochka.” Father Christmas did not have a granddaughter, or even definitely children, which was strange - how could he be a father like so? Grandfather Frost was more sensible, and the Snow Maiden was always shown with the most beautiful robes and headdresses. “For you,” she added, isolating his parcel.

16 Tatiana Six of one, half a dozen of the other. 1396 Tatiana 0 5

Dorian

January 31, 2018 7:17 AM

You're home by Dorian

“Same. And try to be mostly English when Jehan visits,” he nodded, as Tatya talked about the linguistics of her holidays. He had mentioned Jehan coming to visit in his letters to her, along with the vague suggestion that she really must also. He didn’t actually want any of his friends around when Matthieu was there, but he was confident she would be too wrapped up in her own family to take him up on it, and it would have been rude not to offer. “But my family has trouble to stay to one language. Maybe he learn more Chinese and French, and me not so much English that week,” he smiled. He was pretty sure Jehan’s had added to his stock of Mandarin, at minimum, naughty egg, lazy egg, stick insect, and eat up. “It will hurt my brain to be in English all day again.”

Not that school involved exclusively English for him really, as Tatya promptly demonstrated. On the one hand, Dorian was very used to people switching languages around him. It was something that happened constantly at home, and it was a habit that - thanks to Tatya and Jehan - he hadn’t been forced to break with entirely at school. However, he was very unused to one of the languages involved being Russian, or any of the French having a distinctly Russian accent, and his thoughts lumbered along in the wake of Tatya’s chatter picking up each piece and examining it where needed. His assumptions, it seemed, had been correct about who Rodya was. Mal’chik…. Mal’chik he remembered because he and Jehan and Vlad were all mal’chikov, and because when it was singular it sounded rather, to his French ear, like Tatya was suggesting that they were all rather unfashionable. Not that the construction ‘mal-chic’ existed, but it was plausible enough. And Tatya liked this person chut-chut. Tatya felt chut-chut about enough things that he knew that too. Then there was a ‘but,’ followed by a small outburst of verbal chaos which he assumed was Tatya giving vent to her feelings and not something he was legitimately expected to have a hope in heck of understanding, followed by an attempt at explaining.

“Oui, je comprends,” he nodded, although it applied to the languages reasonably well, his tone implied he meant this much more on the emotional level. “Je suis heureux que tu aimes Rodya - le soupirant de sa soeur, even if just… chut chut” he added, speaking deliberately slower than usual as the benefit was to give Tatya practise than really express any further feeling. “Soupir is also the verb like…” he demonstrated sighing, “I suppose because the people in love do this. Maybe especially,” could you say ‘maybe especially’? It seemed logical that you should be able to but it was weirdly rhymey - “if the love is not give back.

“Merci,” he smiled, a little sadly when she complimented his brotherliness. He understood how Tatya felt about her sister being taken away, though for entirely different reasons. He wished he and Émi could have gone to school together. “J’espere.” He was ready to continue the subject of siblings, when the door to the Cascade Hall was pushed open again, and this time as he hopefully looked towards the new arrival, he was rewarded.

“Je!” he called, standing up. And then Jehan was there, and Dorian flung himself at his best friend, not with all the exuberance and happiness he had done at the fire but almost as if he had been chased into Jehan’s arms by something that frightened him very much. He let Je’s arms circle around him, enclosing him a small and perfectly safe little world, and he took a deep breath. Jehan smelt different when he’d come from home, but Dorian had got used to the scent during the week he’d stayed over, when the pleasant smells of his own home had mingled in with it, changing it again - but whatever superficial laundry powder smell was on top, underneath all of that there was always the smell of Jehan himself, and that smell represented warmth and comfort almost as much as the scent of jasmine tea.

Ca va?

“Mm, ca va maintenant,” he smiled into Je’s shoulder, a little emphasis on the final word. He had told Jehan constantly in letters since his departure how it felt to be without him, and this was a way of continuing that, closing it perhaps, without having to spill all those feelings in front of Tatya.

Tu m'as manqué. Tu m'as tellement manqué que ça m'a blessé.

He had only been thinking it, but Jehan answered him out loud. ’I missed you too.’ He smiled at the fact that Jehan could answer his thoughts, although the follow up was a little startlingly insightful, but at the same time confusing… ’Have you hurt yourself? Maybe Je’s mindreading skills weren’t so accurate when he, Dorian, was thinking in French. He had not hurt himself - he had hurt at Jehan’s absence. And then, as Jehan held him a little tighter instead of letting him go, and he breathed that comforting smell again, he realised what his friend was asking about. Because if he could smell all the scents of home on Jehan’s skin, then Jehan could probably smell the same on him… His shoulders stiffened slightly.

Luckily, he had a moment to compose himself whilst Jehan greeted Tatya. He pulled reluctantly back, wishing again for some privacy so they could stay wrapped up in each other. He so much preferred private. It was always cosier. Émilie would flop all over him at home, would snuggle into him, give him affectionate kisses over every little thing. Compared with the stiff backed postures they adopted at dinners and balls… The Cascade Hall was not a formal ball, but it was public. There were certain ways one had to behave. His fingertips brushed lightly over Jehan’s back on their way out, resisting breaking apart until the very last moment.

“I hurt a little before but is ok now,” he answered. If Jehan could smell bruise balm on him, then there was no point lying about that. And anyway, it wasn’t a crime to use bruise balm. People did it all the time. And, on the off chance that he hadn’t meant that, the sentiment definitely applied in other ways. It was ok now. Now that he was back, everything else was truly behind him. Matthieu’s mockery… You’re writing to him again? Poor precious Jehan! Does he miss you? Is he waiting for you? Who cared that the answered to Matthieu’s taunts were ‘yeses’ - emphatic ones - because how could this be anything bad? It only felt like it when Matthieu was around. And now, he was far, far away, and it all felt so good again. Nothing had been taken. Nothing had been broken. Dorian smiled at Jehan. He couldn’t pull him into his arms, or tell him all of the things he was thinking right now, but Dorian was sure he would know. And as he smiled at Jehan, willing him to just know, the person he had been at the bonfire was back.

“Yes, see what she brings,” he nodded, returning his attention to Tatya, his eyes all smiles, as she pulled out Jehan’s parcel, which was a rather similar shape to his own.

OOC - glossary
Oui, je comprends - yes, I understant
Je suis heureux que tu aimes Rodya - le soupirant de sa soeur - I am happy that you like Rodya, your sister’s suitor
J’espere - I hope (so)
Ca va maintenant - I’m alright now
Tu m'as manqué. Tu m'as tellement manqué que ça m'a blessé. - I missed you. I missed you so much it hurt.

13 Dorian You're home 1401 Dorian 0 5

Jehan

February 13, 2018 1:41 PM

And so schastlivyi to be ici by Jehan

Jehan was relieved to hear Dorian was okay now, but still a little concerned. Dorian’s happiness to see him didn’t seem to be simply a dramatic ‘I missed you so much’, but more like there was some sort of problem. And he didn’t want his Dorian to be sad or upset in any way. But then Dorian explained that he had hurt himself for more, so perhaps that was the explanation, and there was no need to worry. Dorian being okay now also meant that there was no need to weep at his bedside as he lay in a weakened state, or maybe even unconscious, which would have been delightfully tragic, but perhaps wasn’t the ideal scenario once you considered that Dorian was a real live human being, and not just a storybook character. Jehan didn’t actually want Dorian to be in a weakened state, or maybe even unconscious.

He smiled back at Dorian, feeling a special moment between them that partially made up for the fact that Dorian had ended the hug, and then turned his attention back to his other friend. And oh! She’d bought him a present! He beamed at her, happy to have been remembered in her summer fun.

“Thank you,” he said, unwrapping the present and somehow widening his smile at the contents within. Despite his hands now being full, he wrapped his arms round her in a spontaneous hug, always one for showing his affection. “You’re better than Snegurochka,” he assured her, feeling very loved and content. He had the best friends.

The present would also help with improving his Russian, something he was determined to focus on even more this year. His French wasn’t too bad, and hadn’t slipped too much over the summer, due to visiting Dorian, and also talking with his grandmother in French. She’d moved over from France centuries ago (or so it seemed), when she’d married his grandfather, and enjoyed speaking French with her grandson. His Russian, however, was much more basic in comparison, and he wanted to be able to speak more with Tatya in her native tongue.

OOC: enjoy the franglassian - I'm terribly sorry about it haha! Also apologies that Jehan was feeling more smiley and huggy than talkative, I realise I haven't given vous much to go off!

9 Jehan And so schastlivyi to be ici 1398 Jehan 0 5