Tatiana Vorontsova
December 21, 2019 1:17 PM
Revisiting old stomping grounds. by Tatiana Vorontsova
Tatiana was not, on the whole, a fan of her new socially imposed hairstyle. It was heavy. It was a lot of trouble. It made the trouble of keeping her hair neatly brushed and de-tangled seem strangely not worth it at times. It involved pins that poked her in the scalp sometimes and caused pain. It was symbolic of the fact that her life was going to get more and more complicated from now on.It did, however, have one advantage, it seemed: it made her hair a lot less troublesome when she was flying.
Out on the Pitch, she made a loop in the air, curving down and then back up, flipping upside down, and as she did, none of her hair fell into her face. There was no risk of the long queues or plaits she had twisted it into before when she wanted to exercise somehow flipping over her head and obscuring her vision like a brown veil. Everything was tightly back in its bun at the base of her neck, except for the smaller braids wrapped around her head and pinned under the bun, and so nothing was free to get in the way of completing each move she made. This would, she thought, have been perfect, had she still been on the Quidditch team.
Of course, there was no longer any real reason why she shouldn't be there. Simon Alexandrovich was gone, and with him, she assumed, all the people both powerful enough and crass enough to state his views to her face. His cousins were still around, but she could handle them - they were younger than her, after all, albeit not much in the case of Nathaniel Nikolaevich. Nathaniel Nikolaevich, however, was a Teppenpaw, so even if he thought bad things, he was unlikely to say them. So she could easily just sign her name on the list in the Hall the way she had once signed her name, with encouragement from Ingrid Wolseithcrafte, on the list in Pecari. So why hadn't she done so?
Lessons were a thing, of course. Advanced classes were harder than her old classes, and she was new to them still. Mama was another factor, if not one Tatiana was inclined to listen much to - all well for everyone to know that a proper grown-up lady who accompanied her man too much in hiking or tennis would surely lose her health, but Tatiana had done all those things all her life and had not lost her health, so she didn't see why putting her hair up should suddenly turn her into a semi-invalid. Her body, after all, felt as strong and reliable as it ever had - it had occasional features now that got in the way which it hadn't had when it was younger, but the core of the thing was still there, still hers. So that wasn't a good reason. Which meant that if lessons weren't the reason, she had only bad reasons, which annoyed her, as she was still deeply reluctant to go sign the list.
At least, she thought, she felt sure of what to do about the air even these days, even after how complicated life had gotten all of a sudden. This, she thought, was heaven, just being able to focus everything on movement, on what she was doing. This, she thought, was the thing she really never could give up, at least privately.
Finally, she felt enough better to land and did so, dismounting only a little stiffly and bending first her right leg and then her left one back to stretch them. It was important to cool down, after all, unless she wanted to be in moderate and annoying amounts of pain tomorrow. As she did so, however, she saw another figure coming outside and paused to wave. "Hello," she called, to indicate she did not insist on being alone, though she was just as content with being alone, if not a little more than just as much right now.
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Tatiana Vorontsova
Revisiting old stomping grounds.
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Nathaniel Mordue
December 21, 2019 1:28 PM
Me, too. by Nathaniel Mordue
Nathaniel had finally signed the Quidditch sign-up sheet, but that had not put his mind at ease regarding the issue. Making a decision was not, he thought, even remotely an effective strategy for banishing doubts or reestablishing balance. All it ever seemed to do for him was re-intensify whatever doubts he had had before making the decision, making them seem more urgent, more realistic, more threatening.With this one, tiny thing, however, he thought he might be able to do something about it. His therapist seemed to think that a lot of the reason why he had been forced to spend much of his summer with her was because he had some deep need for control over everything around him. He thought that was unfair - he only wanted to control situations when it was obvious that nobody more competent was available to do so, and it wasn't his fault that he seemed to find himself around so very many people who were either unprincipled, incompetent, or both - but couldn't deny that he did wish he at least had more control over himself. Practice, they said, made perfect, so he was going to practice being in the air and not losing focus or fainting.
That decision had brought a surge of energy, in which he had grabbed his broom and started out for the Quidditch Pitch. By the time he got to the Pitch, however, his feet were starting to drag a little again, his shoulders to ache; he wanted to turn around, but that, too, seemed like an undertaking. Perhaps, he thought, he would sit for a minute in the stands and then re-evaluate his options....
...Or perhaps not, as the Pitch was already occupied. He was slightly surprised to not recognize the figure at first - it was too tall to be a first year - and then surprised again to recognize the voice instead. Tatiana. What was she doing out here, he wondered? She'd quit the team a couple of years ago.
"Hello," he replied, waving in turn, because it would be rude to just ignore anyone, never mind a former teammate. "Nice evening for flying around, isn't it?" he added, hoping to protect himself from any inquiring questions about why he was here. Any that came would just be polite small talk, of course, but he didn't want to be asked questions if he could avoid it. It was better if he implied something to begin with, so he never actually had to lie.
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Nathaniel Mordue
Me, too.
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Tatiana Vorontsova
December 21, 2019 1:43 PM
What a coincidence! by Tatiana Vorontsova
Tatiana's eyes narrowed slightly when she recognized Nathaniel's voice. "Yes," she replied, in her heavily accented English. "Good day. Good weather. I just fly a while," she informed him.She knew, in the back of her head, that this was not the proper form of words - that she had botched her verb somewhere - but she chose on purpose not to make the effort to try to remember the proper verb form. She also wished she had neglected to stick the stupid article in there, just to make a point - just to see if that got any reaction. When Simon Mordue had been inexcusably rude to her and Dorya about languages in that long-ago Defense Against the Dark Arts class, it had been a shock; now, prepared for it, she almost wished that Simon's cousin would say something to her about it. Give her an excuse to direct some of her irritation and confusion with the world at a solid object. She doubted this one would oblige her, but if he did...she wouldn't complain.
"I see you on list," she added. "On Quidditch list. You be Keeper again. You come practice? I throw things at you, if wanted," she added, though she did wonder if that might not be crossing a line somehow. He had looked like he was going to die last year, after all, and one wasn't supposed to beat up semi-invalids. The fact he wasn't a woman was irrelevant as far as that went; it wasn't unheard of for men to have poor health, though one wasn't supposed to talk about it as openly as one could with women.
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Tatiana Vorontsova
What a coincidence!
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Nathaniel Mordue
December 22, 2019 6:35 PM
I know, right? by Nathaniel Mordue
Since she had left the team, Nathaniel had semi-forgotten about the way Tatiana talked. He had some trouble being sure what she meant, between the mangled verbs scattered with aplomb through the short speech, but he thought she was offering to throw the Quaffle at him.Because that's just what I need - to pass out in front of one of the prettiest girls in school.
He flushed, trying to edit out that last part from his thoughts. It wasn't, after all, terribly relevant. That Tatiana was beautiful was a given - even Sylvia admitted that much, he thought, though he and Sylvia agreed that the older girl often diminished her own looks with the excessive ornamentation she favored of her whole person - but he wasn't supposed to think about that. Not about her, not about anyone...It was dangerous. It was too easy to lose control, and he had seen - twice! - what happened when someone lost control. As bad as things were, they could always get worse. Always.
"No, thank you," he managed. "I'm just going to fly around for a while, too. I didn't spend much time in the air this summer, so - out of practice," he said, with a slight shrug, letting her make of that what she would. "But thank you," he added, then remembered that had already been implied in what he'd said before. This did not help his current problem with his coloring. He sort of hated everything and everyone right now.
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Nathaniel Mordue
I know, right?
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Tatiana Vorontsova
December 23, 2019 11:13 AM
Totally, totally insane. by Tatiana Vorontsova
Nathaniel Mordue was behaving oddly, she thought. He looked odd. He sounded odd. Not like last year, when he had looked like he was dying, but...A memory came back to her. Last summer, when the family had visited Anya and Rodya's dacha for their first summer together. The parties. Some of the boys had, of course, heaped compliments upon her and boldly asked her to dance or to go on walks with them or to ride with them and another couple in a troika or dvoika during all the teas and parties of the summer colony Anya and Rodya had selected, but there had also been others, who had turned red and sounded odd and struggled to meet her eyes, especially if she felt badly for them and tried to draw them into the fun with everyone else. Mama had laughed when Tatiana had commented on them once, remarking that Tatiana was learning the power that existed in being a woman.
Now, she studied Nathaniel Mordue with unabashed curiosity in her big blue-green eyes, wondering...surely not. For one thing, while Sylvia Alexandrovna wanted to play at being friends with Katya, she did not trust these people to ever really accept her or her sister. For another, Tatiana was not exactly in party dress right now; she didn't even have on jewelry aside from two bracelets and her earrings. She could not imagine that she looked very interesting at all right now. Though the thought did remind her of something else.
"You have welcome," she said with a slight tilt of her head. "Hey - you take photographs, yes? You still do that?"
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Tatiana Vorontsova
Totally, totally insane.
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Nathaniel Mordue
December 23, 2019 11:27 AM
I, on the other hand, am completely sane. by Nathaniel Mordue
Nathaniel was just about to congratulate himself on finishing a whole interaction with a person without having something go terribly wrong when Tatiana abruptly turned the subject to almost the worst possible topic he could imagine, short of her actually asking about his family, which was not something he thought was actually something he needed to be too afraid of with her. With the world in general, yes, but he couldn't imagine that his family troubles were so very public that even Russians were gossiping about it, so within context....The ball, he thought, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. It had to be that. She had accosted him in the Gardens years ago to demand that her picture be taken while she was in her splendid, distinctly Cultural fancy dress, and now she probably wanted him to do that again. And since she remembered that, and her sister was one of Sylvia's friends....
Horrible visions stretched before him. He could see a whole term ahead of being forced to take endless pictures of Sylvia's stupid friends and their stupid dates - if they had them - or, worse, of Sylvia's stupid friends while they played fishermen and regarded him as the unfortunate fish. Plus, even if they didn't think that way, or if Sylvia paired him off with one of them before anyone could even begin planning out a strategy -
He looked at Tatiana again, taking in the currently clean, delicate line of her profile. Her fan of dark eyelashes above her usually insultingly direct gaze. The way her new hairstyle showed off the slimness of her neck. He thought also about the gaggle of stupid friends. Being essentially alone with girls - each probably as pretty as the last, if not prettier - studying them closely, telling them to turn this way or that...Dear Merlin. He could not do that. It was dangerous.
"Sometimes," he said warily, realizing he probably couldn't lie. "Not as much as I used to. Why?" Maybe she just had a thought and that was it.
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Nathaniel Mordue
I, on the other hand, am completely sane.
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Tatiana Vorontsova
December 23, 2019 11:41 AM
...Of course. by Tatiana Vorontsova
Not so much as he used to. That was too bad. Not helpful, anyway. She wondered why that was the case - if the reactions to her impromptu Ball photographs from a few years ago had been anything to go by, he was rather good at taking pictures, so why stop doing something one was good at, short of a situation like Simon Mordue? Though, of course, he did have the distinct misfortune of being related to Simon Mordue, so it was possible they had very nearly the same problem.Still, he had not said he had given it up altogether, so there was no harm, she supposed, in saying what she was thinking.
"I have heard of a thing," she said. "My friend tells me about it - my friend Yasmin. It is...Magly. They use pictures. The pictures...it like going to see...a story where people pretend. Teatr." She thought that word was very close to the same thing as the English word and so that there was a chance she might be understood despite speaking Russian. "But you can see all you want - many many many times - and it is same each time. And it talk like portrait, but does not leave. We do not have this. You know about making picture, though. You think that can be make?" she asked.
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Tatiana Vorontsova
...Of course.
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Nathaniel Mordue
December 23, 2019 6:22 PM
I've just been ill, you see, but I'm better now. Completely sane. by Nathaniel Mordue
Dorian Montoir, Nathaniel thought as Tatiana tried to explain something, was either a saint, a madman, or in the habit of keeping his girlfriend's mouth occupied with something other than talking, because she was very difficult to understand in large quantities. A sentence or two was fine, but when she tried to make a longer speech...he did not have the energy to decode all of it.Of course, it was possible that said more about him than about Dorian, especially lately. He preferred not to think too much about that, which meant he'd likely be able to think about nothing else for the next ten hours or so.
From what he could decipher, though, she was talking about...telling stories with pictures. On purpose, that was - not Dr. Greene trying to get him to analyze his albums and why he had put this picture with that one, but like...
He shook his head, which was rapidly filling again with fog as he struggled with the ideas she was incoherently presenting. "That sounds - impossible," he said. "Photographs either...have a limited range of motion, or some autonomy, depending on which formula you use to develop them, and your film type and your...never mind." He did not have the energy either to describe all the intricacies of photography. "It can't be done. And I doubt the Muggles have done it either - you should probably not believe everything someone tells you," he said, trying not to allow any emotion into his voice as he offered that unsolicited bit of advice. "If we can't do it, I seriously doubt they can," he added, a bit of scorn for Them making its way into his tone.
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Nathaniel Mordue
I've just been ill, you see, but I'm better now. Completely sane.
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Tatiana Vorontsova
December 24, 2019 5:20 PM
I'm sure you're positively certifiable. by Tatiana Vorontsova
Tatiana stiffened with offense when Nathaniel abruptly ended his speech on why the thing she had proposed was impossible, telling her to 'never mind.' She had, actually, been following pretty well, she thought - there had been hardly any words in his speech which she hadn't understood. 'Autonomy' was a new one (she knew 'auto' meant something - she had translated it before when doing her class readings between Russian and English textbooks - about things doing things on their own, but nomy did not mean much to her; she knew the nearest Magl city to her was called 'Nome' in English, but she doubted that was what he meant), but other than that, her vocabulary had largely kept up. If she had been confused - well, Tatiana had never been known for shyness. She could say so. Or he could even ask if she didn't understand something, rather than just assuming she was too stupid to do so.Her offense deepened with the insult to Jasmine. Jasmine was not, it was true, the clearest diamond in the mine, but she was not an idiot or a liar, either. And even if she had been, it was no place or concern of his to say so to Tatiana.
"Yasmin tells me her sister has name from these things," she said flatly. "Is a stupid lie, if is a lie. So you must be wrong - should not talk so much," she continued. "Good evening." And with that, she departed, wondering why she was at all inclined to give people a chance and why on earth her sister insisted on hanging around with Sylvia Alexandrovna so much. As far as Tatiana could tell, the whole family was very bad, not worth the trouble of being bothered with.
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Tatiana Vorontsova
I'm sure you're positively certifiable.
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