|
|
Post by Paris Célestin on Mar 8, 2009 16:53:16 GMT -5
Aimé recognized the irony in what he was doing. It made sense to him, though, and that was what mattered. He knew exactly what he was doing, and why.
He was sitting in the Gryffindor stands, just a couple rows behind that on which the announcer traditionally sat. His broom, the sleekest, newest edition of the Firebolt, was propped on the bench beside him. He had an open book in his hands. To the observer, he might be wasting a perfectly good opportunity, but no, Aimé had his reasons.
It was a Quidditch book that he was reading, one with numerous illustrations of professional moves that he aspired to learn. He was in this particular spot to best imagine what the moves would look like on this particular pitch to the Hogwarts announcer. When he was sure that he had the image firmly fixed in his mind, then he would try. For now, he was absorbed in the dangers and uses of the Wood Whammy.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pat Connelly on Mar 11, 2009 23:51:50 GMT -5
Pat came onto the field, noticing it was empty as usual. She didn't have a clue what was wrong with this school - Durmstrang had been even colder, but quidditch still lived on. Here is seemed like everyone was hiding as if they would crumple if they were exposed to the crisp fresh air.
After doing a few laps, Pat happened to catch a glimpse of someone sitting in the stands. She made her way over, stopping mid-air just in front of the announcer stand, and looked to get a closer inspection on the person she'd found. Her eyes skimmed over him before they fixated on him broom. "Is that the New Firebolt?!" She exclaimed with obvious interest.
|
|
|
|
Post by Paris Célestin on Mar 12, 2009 23:05:24 GMT -5
Aimé's lips curved into a slightly crooked smile as he glanced aside at his broom, then looked to the girl. "It is," he said, his French accent lending warmth to the words. "C'est magnifique, non? It is a magnificent broom. Fast and, how you say, agile."
Aimé pulled his gaze from the girl long enough to locate his makeshift bookmark, tucking it between the pages of his book. "You fly well," he observed. "Is it flying which interests you, or Quidditch?" Some wizards were merely broom aficionados, but not usually so young, and she couldn't have been much older than he, if at all.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pat Connelly on Mar 15, 2009 14:39:34 GMT -5
Pat turned her eyes back to the boy the minute he started talking. His smooth words flowed off his lips and caught her attention easily. "Both. I don't think I'd enjoy quidditch nearly as much if I was afraid to fly."
She maneuvered her own Firebolt, last year's model, over the railing and into the stands where she dismounted and walked back so she was in front of him again. "Likewise, flying around without purpose gets boring."
|
|
|
|
Post by Paris Célestin on Mar 16, 2009 14:20:37 GMT -5
Aimé arched an eyebrow at the girl, though it was hidden behind the thick mass of his fringe. "Indeed," he said, watching her. If he was a bit blasé about things, it was nothing unusual. The girl's replies had been rather obvious, though he couldn't say he'd really been expecting them. He normally expected the unexpected.
"What is your name?" he asked at last. The conversation could turn back to brooms and Quidditch later. For now, he wanted some other way to refer to the girl in his mind than as the girl. He supposed the blonde with the heart-shaped face might have worked, but it was still far too much of a generalization.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pat Connelly on Mar 17, 2009 20:36:58 GMT -5
"Oh, I'm sorry. I completely forgot my manners. I was so excited to see someone else on the pitch." She peeled off her leather glove and held out her hand to him. Pat was slightly embarrassed at having lost her composure but glad that it took a lot more than that to make her blush. "My name's Pat Connelly, and may I ask yours?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Paris Célestin on Mar 17, 2009 21:02:48 GMT -5
"You may," Aimé replied, leaning slightly forward to take her hand. "Enchanté," he said. "My name is Aimé Célestin." He pronounced his first name as something near Em-AY, giving the girl's hand a brief shake. "It is a pleasure, Pat," he said. English names had such a harsh sound to them sometimes, and he wondered how Pat fit the girl in front of him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pat Connelly on Mar 20, 2009 19:32:03 GMT -5
Pan lowered her hand after the short handshake, almost disappointed that he hadn't done something along the lines of bowing over her hand, or kissing it. She mentally shook the thought from her head, even if those actions seemed to go along with his accent better than a mere handshake. "That's an interesting name, are you named after someone?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Paris Célestin on Mar 21, 2009 17:49:12 GMT -5
"It is not such an unusual name in France," Aimé said, his lips curving slightly, "but yes, I was named after Aimé-Marie-Gaspard, duc de Clermont-Tonnerre. To put it simply, the man refused to swear allegiance to the last king to rule France. He served as a strong connection between the Wizarding and Muggle governments during the revolution. Ah, but these things do not interest you," he said lightly, recalling himself. "What does interest you, Pat? Aside from Quidditch?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Pat Connelly on Mar 22, 2009 17:49:46 GMT -5
"I have many of the usual interest, like traveling and such, but interests usually fade over time. Would it be so horrible if quidditch was my one and only, true passion?" Patricia looked at Aimé with a spark of mischief, as if daring him to suggest something else she should be passionate about.
He was correct in assuming that past kings and men in muggle relations didn't really hold her interest, they were dead afterall and didn't affect her life in the here and now. Quidditch wasn't the only thing that Pat showed passion towards, but they were speaking of things, not people.
|
|
|
|
Post by Paris Célestin on Mar 23, 2009 19:50:29 GMT -5
"Your only passion, chérie?" Aimé repeated, one brow arching unseen behind his thick fringe. He had no difficulty following the unspoken challenge which Pat had set out. He also had no difficulty responding to it. "No, it would not be horrible, I think. But it would be, how you say... tragic. To survive in history as a celebrated Quidditch player would be fantastic, non? But to die with a lonely heart is never to have lived."
|
|
|
|
Post by Pat Connelly on May 4, 2009 20:13:40 GMT -5
"Sounds awfully romantic of you Mr. Célestin. Are you a romantic then, perhaps a poet? Is that where your passions lie?" Patricia liked the sound of his name on her lips even without getting the accent perfect. She wasn't sure where this line of questioning was leading but it had been far too long since she'd engaged with anyone. Between his looks, smooth tongue, and captivating accent, she was willing to take the time to find out.
|
|
|
|
Post by Paris Célestin on May 8, 2009 7:25:21 GMT -5
Aimé's lips lifted at one corner. "A poet, mais non, but as a Frenchman, it would be impossible not to be a romantic, eh?" His smile widened slightly and he tossed his head, sending his fringe shifting back a bit from his eyes. "Passion is everywhere, Pat. I 'ave many, and I would wish for no different." He had some passions that were greater than others, true, Quidditch for example, but not to the exclusion of other pursuits.
|
|
