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 Posted: Sat May 10, 2008 9:18 pm
It was really just not fair that Jace could pick up a guitar and end up a week later sounding as though she'd been playing it for months at least; she had a natural sense of rhythm and musicality that, alas, it seemed that Wisp Darnell had been born without, and she was the bane of her musical tutor. It didn't help that they'd started music classes as well, even if Beatrix said that the constant practice would help her improve; after a particularly bad session she stayed behind with the song they'd been playing and desperately tried to go through it again.
It didn't work. The more stressed and frustrated she got, the worse she sounded, the less she was able to do the breathing that was so important to flute-playing in the first place, the flute got peeved at her and started to squawk. She stopped mangling "Down By the Danube" and stared at the sheet music in despair.
She was never going to be any good at French, and she was never going to be any good at the flute. If soccer was this bad, she pretty much had to pack a suitcase and leave the country, as she wasn't good in a lot of her classes either -- she liked Health and she loved Social Studies and Art was her favourite, favourite subject, but she was terrible at Language Arts, bottom of the class. It looked as though Music was going to be a low point too.
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Posted: Mon May 12, 2008 10:43 pm
Which was why, after a particularly egregious classroom performance, she was politely asked to come back around at the end of the school day for a bit of a discussion. Being told to come after was enough to shake any child's shoes when it involved something the child was not particularly good at.
It wasn't that the music teachers were terrible imposing. Far from it. While Mr. Etoh, with his strict and standoffish demeanor, would not be winning any student body popularity contests, Mr. Orriole was a purely radiant and gentle soul who was about as effective as disciplining the classroom as a feather was in halting a tsunami. It thusly made good sense he worked with Mr. Etoh, else there would be no musical learning occuring in the classroom even with the best intentions of both the teacher and students. It was Mr. Orriole who was in the classroom now (affording a small measure of relief), sitting alone as he graded some papers on famous historic figures in the world of music that had been turned in some hours previous. Judging by the stack still waiting to be graded, he was not making good progress.
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Posted: Mon May 12, 2008 11:02 pm
Even though it was Mr. Orriole, who was all sweetness and light, the little girl's face was still woeful; she opened the door, more than a little doleful, little black motes even threatening to break the usually sunny skies of her personality. She came down in front of her desk, dragging her bag in one hand, chewing on her hair because she was nervous. "Mr. Orriole," she said, "I'm here, I'm -- are you going to ask me to leave Music class or go to like remedial Music class because, because that's what they said." (This was all said very fast.)
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Posted: Mon May 12, 2008 11:12 pm
There was this perfect silent moment, one of those spots when time has become suspended and the dust motes turn motionless in the air. Mr. Orriole looked up from his grading and flicked one of his overly-long, elegant ears, much to the resemblence of a horse on a lazy summer's day. Then he smiled and put down his red pen and the moment broke. Time resumed its evenly-paced march towards eternity. "Who said that?" he said ever so gently, like the brush of a mother's hand on her newborn child.
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Posted: Mon May 12, 2008 11:16 pm
There was a mumble; but then Wisp cleared her throat and picked up her courage, and she said, "My sister." (Comparatively, Jacoba Darnell was fairly good at music, if lazy, and tended to rely a little too much on what she regarded as natural talent and the ability to play the opening of 'Stairway To Heaven.')
She looked up at him; blue eyes still a little depressed, the exact same colour as the little star that resided on one cheekbone. "I do half an hour per night and I have a teacher," she said, "but all she ever tells me is that my fingers are in the wrong places and then the flute makes the wrong sounds. I thought maybe I didn't breathe normally but then I spent like an hour checking on my breathing and it sounded as regular as everybody else's so."
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Posted: Mon May 12, 2008 11:50 pm
Orriole's chair rolled, which was one of those little quirks of technology he so liked about human society, and he orbited around his desk with the perfect amount of force required to come to a gentle stop next to Wisp without the slightest sign of any effort. This was the sort of grace and control that only six thousand years of experience and the purest elven heritage could bestow. When he leaned forward on his knees he was no taller than Wisp was standing, his head level with hers.
His orange eyes were ringed skin like soft paper that wrinkled when he creased his eyes in smile, as he did now, each hair-thin line a microscopic record of the years he had known. "Do you know about elements?" he asked, almost purring in admiration of Wisp's purely sweet nature. That anyone could have told her she would be sent from the class for a few bad notes! (They were almost all bad, really, but Orriole rarely faulted children anything.)
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Posted: Tue May 13, 2008 9:19 pm
"Elements?" Wisp's forehead crinkled, but it was hard to not warm to and feel relaxed about Mr. Orriole. He made you feel as though everything you said really, genuinely mattered, and was some kind of deep and meaningful statement, like you were worth listening to. "Like, earth, fire, wind, water, heart, those types of elements?"
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Posted: Tue May 13, 2008 9:59 pm
"Yes," Orriole exhaled as if Wisp had brought light to the heavens. A little worry arose in the back of his head as the quality of the science program at the Center, but it was a matter he could look into later. He held up his finger as if imparting a secret, digits delicately curling. "Everyone has an element hidden inside them, and if you know what your element is, you can use it to help you."
It was dancing dangerously on the precipice of spiritual gibberish and superstition, but Orriole was not above misleading Wisp if he thought he was doing it in her best interests and the best interests of those around her. He gazed down at her from his lofty perch of elven entitlement and centuries of experience and saw her in much the same way as humans see their pets: valuable, intelligent creatures who should be led gently by the hand and occasionally tricked into doing what was best for them.
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Posted: Tue May 13, 2008 10:06 pm
"Really?" Totally tricked, the little girl looked thrilled. "And do you think I won't suck at the flute any more? Because Mommy said no take-backsies and that I would have been even worse at the violin and the piano, and I started soccer and I like it, but Jace is good at tae kwon do and Spanish and guitar and one out of three, she says, is only 33.3%."
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Posted: Tue May 13, 2008 10:34 pm
"Hmmm," said Orriole, unable to quite hold back his mirthful smile. With her fair complexion and pure spirit, Orriole would have been proud to call Wisp his own had she been born an elf. Instead, he had to be content with the titles of teacher and student. He offered his hand to Wisp in invitation. "Why don't we find out?"
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Posted: Tue May 13, 2008 10:40 pm
"Really?" Wisp looked thrilled. She immediately put her hand in Orriole's: she saw every teacher as a friend. "Do you really mean it? I can try? Because, Mom said there was nothing worse than listening to a million piano arpeggios of somebody who would never be Franz Liszt. You're so really truly actually nice, Mr. Orriole. I love music, I really do, honest. I don't mean to be bad at it."
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Posted: Fri May 16, 2008 9:26 pm
"Liszt was just one of many talented pianists," Orriole consoled her, and tapped a finger first on his nose and then on hers. Gently, he instructed, "Close your eyes."
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Posted: Fri May 16, 2008 9:28 pm
Wisp closed her eyes as hard as she could, until coloured spots danced on her eyelids. Well, if that was the start, that was really easy! Mr. Orriole always did achievable short-term goals.
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Posted: Fri May 16, 2008 9:33 pm
Orriole closed his eyes, too, and hummed almost inaudibly as he pretended to search. "I don't see any wind in you. I think... Light. Beautiful light." His eyes opened. "Do you know what one of the scientific properties of light is? It contains all of the colors of the rainbow within it." Orriole was rather good at science, except for astronomy, as he still insisted on an Earth-centric universal model no matter how inelegant the math, and thought the moon landing was a complete fabrication of propaganda against the Soviets.
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Posted: Fri May 16, 2008 9:57 pm
"I love the light," Wisp said definitely. Frankly, she was crap at science. "I love colours. I hate dark places, Mr. Orriole, really really dark places, things where the light isn't. I don't mind the nighttime but where the light can't go -- I hate those types of places."
She smiled, eyes still closed, totally convinced he had done something mystical. "So that's why I don't like the flute! Can I open my eyes now?"
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