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|Blaire Beauvelle Beaufort||
Posted: Apr 24 2017, 02:30 AM
The dim blue lights opened on the stage with a flick of a wand. It was a little dark to see who the spelll came from as the dark theater was empty. The wizard slowly made their way to the set. Slowly the figure was recognizeable as the light met with them. This person was Blaire Beaufort, the new student that started attending Hogwarts last September as a first year. Curious, as this boy was actually a sixteen year old first year.
Each breath spewed a tune as it exited the brass metal instrument. A saxophone's melody filled the otherwise empty theatre. Even if the carnival hadn't arrived it was still unlikely for anyone to be in the large an well architected room for acoustics. The sound that the instrument spilled around the lonely room comforted Blaire's ears. The one breathing air into the instrument and giving it life. The Slytherin student that chose the comfort of the sound proof walls and the dimly lit stage. It was a peaceful place. No students for him to please, no false emotions needed, and no one to bother his performance. It was his element and his time.
The Slytherin boy continued under the dim blue lights that illumminated his perfectly white shirt and the saxophone shone in what little the light gave him. His own little rendition of Mirrors from Justin Timberlake. A type of music that his parents told him not to listen or play as the classical was always perfect. How the boy always ever played classical songs at home but now that he was miles and miles away he was free to play whatever he wanted as long as the Beauforts never find out.
He sat there playing his songs so entranced in his time alone. His eyes closed the whole performance but it wasn't like anyone who'd drop in would tel hiis parents. Blaire was secretive and he always lied about everything to the point that no one really knew what the boy was thinking. It was a gift he honed due to having overbearing parents that only thought about how perfect their life is and how perfect their forster sn should be. Of course Blaire wanted to be his own person but where can he go? The only life he knew was this cushy life wherein the only exchange for it was his own life as a person. To be molded by his parents to be this moldable shell of a person.
Finshing his song he gently lowered his saxophone and took a deep breath and released it casually.
Posted: Apr 28 2017, 12:28 AM
The stairs down from the owlery danced pretentiously beneath Ualan's feet almost exclusively. The only other people the wizard saw in the area were a handful of ant-sized who-knew-whats crawling around on the lower levels, much too far for him to make any accurate guess as to what house they belonged to or in some cases even the color of their hair--all by his design. See it wasn't exactly school-sanctioned, what he was doing. Not that it was exactly bad either. Bringing cheer and entertainment to young and old alike was rarely bad, after all. Not as he saw it anyway. It wasn't like anybody was in any danger. No, nobody had given him permission because nobody was exactly who he had sought out before he had embarked on his journey up to the owlery, three jars and a sizeable streak of swagger in tow, and it was that element of covertness he was trying to maintain. Ualan had seen the inside of detention enough times to know that the best way to avoid it was to keep the lowest of low profiles until the moment he unleashed his grand show on the public, hard as that sometimes was, and that meant that until he got to the theater avoiding crowds was best.
It took an extra heavy helping of prudence to get the Slytherin from his lofty point A to his earthly point B without social interruption, but he did eventually make it unscathed and unshaken for the number of times taking the long corridor was the only way to make it down another level. And that wasn't even mentioning the ache his arms had started from his death grip on the jars. The show he envisioned was worth it though. They always were.
One last dash to the theater door and he was home free. That was the plan anyway, at least until he slipped past the soundproofing and straight into the smooth, hot wall of saxophone music. It wasn't a concert. The lack of light on anything but the stage made it difficult to tell right away, but Ualan couldn't make out the shapes of heads poking out above the army of seats marching out ahead of him. His best bet was someone else had had a similar, albeit more traditional, idea as his. Well that was bound to happen now and then. Nothing he could do now but listen, he supposed.
Ualan was not a connoisseur of music by any stretch of the imagination. He'd never played an instrument of his own, though he had charmed an impromptu symphony out of his potions work once; it had been fairly impressive if he said so himself, except that his notes on dragon blood had been more than a little sharp. But to his untrained ear the boy on stage was a master of his craft. The notes pouring out of the saxophone in his hands were molten cool with a side of smooth chocolate, whispering velvet like a film noir femme fatale. Each sound carried an extra sense with it. Here Ualan smelled an evening rain. There he tasted cherries. The sixth year rolled the experience over in his mind as he watched the light dance off the side of the instrument in time with the boy behind it until suddenly all that was left was the ghostly echo of music ringing in the silence.
"Bravissimo! Bravissimo!" Ualan limped into awkward applause around the jars still nestled in the crooks of his arms. It was a poor respect for the boy on stage above him, but with his wand tucked away in his back pocket and his arms too full to reach for it it was the best he could do. The Slytherin sauntered out of his hiding place in the inky shadows along the back wall and drifted up the aisle, stopping only when he was directly against the edge of the raised platform. "Well played, friend!" he grinned. With less distance the kid seemed familiar. He was sure he'd seen him before, but the exact details danced oddly just out of Ualan's reach. "If you didn't charm that spiritual sound out of that fancy flute magically, you're a genius."
@Blaire Beauvelle Beaufort
|Blaire Beauvelle Beaufort||
Posted: May 3 2017, 09:47 AM
The oldest first year in the whole castle wasn't prepared for an audience as he knew that the theater would be empty. Only having gotten into the school last September. Having to be sorted in with the eleven year olds it was troublesome for him. If anyone did pay attention they’d take a hint that Blaire wasn’t a transfer but indeed just starting his life as a newbie at everything magic. This time with his saxophone wasn’t magic. It was his normal time for himself. Away from the exhausting outside world where he had to act as though he was a good boy. As though he was a Hufflepuff in this world’s segregation terms.
Now as he stood there with his saxophone lowered he was not alone. At first he couldn’t see who the cheery voice belonged to. Only when the boy came closer and cooed at him with flattery that he had realized who it was. Well, Blaire didn’t have a name but the face was definitely familiar. This boy was in his house. Slytherin.
Such a curious way of naming their houses. That old hat was a good judge of character. There were those who resided in towers. The Gryffiindors who were represented by Lions because of their bravery. Ravenclaw with their thirst for knowledge, boggling how Ravenclaws were represented by eagles when their name implied ravens. Odd. Mentioning Hufflepuffs prior what a cute name for badgers that shared the cold dark dungeons as cute as their house’s implied personalities. Then his own house, Slytherins having the snake as an animal emblem and how they are sorted by personal goals with their sly and treacherous behavior. Perfect for Blaire.
The emotionless boy was assessing the situation as it went and definitely this boy exhibiting such enthusiasm despite being annoying in Blaire’s ears. He couldn’t really care if the unknown boy enjoyed his performance. This was supposed to be his time alone. Nonetheless, he had to keep up with good relations and appearances.
Blaire flashed a friendly smile, natural as he was after years of acting as if he cared. As if he had emotions of his own aside from his only genuine emotion which was fear. No one had seen him cower under any circumstance. None but one. A poor soul that died because of his fear when an ugly and old sentient tree had tried to attack him. Being pushed away by a fellow Slytherin. Blaire would have died but he was saved and he just stared at the corpse of a boy older than him by a year. He never shed a tear but there the actor was. Smiling so brightly at this other Slytherin boy as if he was humbled by the flattery.
“Oh my, I never expected someone to catch my performance.” Blaire extended his hand towards the acquaintance. “Thank you for listening and I trust by your reaction you enjoyed it. Wonderful day!”
“My name is Blaire, Blaire Beaufort.” He'd never forget telling people his last name. Because after all the Beauforts were high up in wealth and power.
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