Johanna||when all is said and done

[MARIE ADELAIDE SAUVETERRE]

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If there was a place that Marie was always sneaking into, it was the music hall. So often it happened that the custodian never looked up when she walked in when no music classes were in session. Music was really all she had for sure. Besides maybe her mother. When you were this rich, you could buy friends. All you ever really had was your self.

Marie had been playing the piano for as long as she could remember. When she was a girl learning Disney tunes, to the long hours and aching fingers dedicated to Bach and Beethoven. It was the only thing she really liked doing, besides maybe kissing and eating sweets. Marie had a bit of a thing for sugar, a sweet tooth.

She sat on the bench, running her long delicate fingers along the keys of the piano, a soft rustling of skin. Then, she began to play, a soft lilting melody. In her mind the velvet voice of her mother's favorite American singer filled her mind.

Marie didn't even move when the door opened, she hardly heard it. Her mind was in the keys, in the notes.

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OUTFIT: clicky
WORDS: 217
TAGGED: charlie =)
ANYTHING ELSE: nope
CREDIT: made by me

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[johanna-hélène neveau]

Jo only explored the music hall occasionally. Those who didn't know her as well would assume that, to her, music was a nuisance. They'd be wrong. Johanna had been taught to play the cello since she was seven, and she started learning how to play the piano at thirteen. The latter instrument was not one of her favorites. She enjoyed listening to piano pieces being played by others, but she took no delight in playing it herself. In this case, she preferred the challenging string changes of the cello to the stroking of ivory keys, the feel of the bow than the sensation of the smooth wood on the school's grand pianos.

Nevertheless, in this occasion, Johanna had decided venture into the music hall, hoping to get some alone time with the school's cello. She missed hers, but it was back home, propped on its stand in a corner of her room. She could hear the tinkling sound of a piano from the outside. It wasn't any of the classical pieces the professors were accustomed to teaching their students. Jo pressed her ear to the doorway, propping herself by placing her palms against the wooden doors of the hall. After a minute of standing there, she finally made sense of the tune. So She Dances.

Jo kept her ear against the door, this time, not really paying attention to the song, but instead pushing it to the rear of her consciousness; background music. She wondered whether she would dare go into the hall. After a moment of undecidedness, Johanna straightened up, and lowered her hands to push open the door.

Ah, so it was Marie whom was playing. She should have known the little pianist would have been the one to go into the music hall and play after classes. She was good, Jo had to admit. She may be proud by nature, but she had refined tastes, and she knew Marie could have a long career ahead of her. Jo walked down the tilting marble floor of the music hall, all the way down to the front row of seats, her heels clicking against the floor. She sat in the exact middle seat of the row, and crossed her legs, just listening to the melody, and watching Marie play.

However, instead of being an admiring audience, (which, for that matter, would have had a look of contentment on their faces for hearing such a lovely tune) Johanna's countenance was one masked with a rather aloof expression. It was not a cold one, not a contemptuous one; but rather an indifferent one. One clearly displaying that she was not in awe, yet subtle enough so that she wouldn't seem outright disrespectful.

[MARIE ADELAIDE SAUVETERRE]

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Marie began to hum softly under her breath. She was decent singer, she'd had training, her biggest problem was volume, she couldn't sing very loud and she had asthma, not something she'd ever admit to. But she'd lose her breath too easily if she took up singing as a career. Besides, the piano was better, no words, it got your body involved and you'd never have to stop. Her fingers would go on forever.

The song ended and marie lifted her delicate fingers from the keys, imagining a crowd clapping, or a ballroom filled with lovely people cheering her for the selection. Something like that. Ah, what a life ti would be. But now that the song was over, Marie was thrust unpleasantly back into the music room. She was astute enough to notice that the room felt different.

She felt eyes.

Marie turned on the little bench and saw Johanna sitting there in the middle of the hall, her face sort of blank. Her roommate always had a face like that on around Marie. Neither one of praise nor of dislike. Everything was the middle road. And that was fine really.

"Oh, bonjour Jo. I didn't hear you come in." She said, her English was of course very good (what with going to all the best schools and being half American and spending summers in the USA), but her French accent never failed to appear. That and she was rather against saying things like 'hey' or 'hi', such strange little words.

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OUTFIT: clicky
WORDS: 258
TAGGED: charlie!!
ANYTHING ELSE: nope
CREDIT: internet working now?

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