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[for romain]
[It's not hard to find Ghyslain when he's not in class or the dorms - he doesn't go out a lot, and when there aren't classes in the music room, he'll most likely be there. How often do you find a giant grand piano to play, after all? Even his family had a much smaller one, slightly out of tune, which grated on someone with such a natural ear when he came back from lessons and had to practice on it.
Today he's playing something he remembers his older sister listening to; not his kind of music, but the musician was damn good on piano, so the melodies stick out and he picks them out when he hasn't got a song in mind. It's slow at first, then picks up to the actual speed of the song, light and flourishing.
He's clearly in his own world, pale eyes dreamy and head swaying back and forth. In a soft, deep voice, he tries to translate the lyrics he can remember, but they come without scansion and rhyme because it's so off the top of his head.]
Today he's playing something he remembers his older sister listening to; not his kind of music, but the musician was damn good on piano, so the melodies stick out and he picks them out when he hasn't got a song in mind. It's slow at first, then picks up to the actual speed of the song, light and flourishing.
He's clearly in his own world, pale eyes dreamy and head swaying back and forth. In a soft, deep voice, he tries to translate the lyrics he can remember, but they come without scansion and rhyme because it's so off the top of his head.]
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Oh - right. [... although.] I know people who've been speaking English for decades and they still have an accent. Besides, I don't get many chances to speak French with someone who doesn't just want me to help them study.
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[The French is just too different a lot of the time, and they seemed to know just enough to taunt him about that when everyone was still of the age to taunt that freely, so now he just says no to those who don't realize. He averts his eyes at the thought, thinking it's a problem Romain likely doesn't have. His French is round and soft like the kind they learn here.
Like his face.]
Vous venez de France?
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Ah, non, non. Je suis né en Suisse. Et tu?
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[He's giving Romain a chance to react here. He's met a couple of other French-speaking Europeans, and they've been none too kind about Quebec either. Honestly, Ghyslain doesn't have much of a place anywhere, too French among the English speakers and too Canadian among the Europeans and certainly not part of the community back home.]
It is - it's best to speak English. I can improve at English.
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[and he just shrugs. Really, the reason Romain is friends with just about everyone in the school is because he's just so nice without being a pushover. Fun and friendly, social and accepting, not a malicious thing to say about anyone.]
Sure. I get asked for help on English homework too. What year are you in?
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[He looks a bit confused by how well this whole conversation is going, honestly, just overall disbelief. Yes, he's making an effort to get along a bit better, but Romain is effortlessly friendly. There's a risk of feeling special here, he thinks, if he doesn't remember that these sorts of people are usually the same regardless of their company.
... still, he feels a bit special.]
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Third. What do you do?
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[Did Romain mean his gift? He probably meant his gift.]
Or do you ask what I do naturally? Why I am here?
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The lights, which have been very dim up until now, suddenly brighten - he's not controlling the electricity, but drawing back layers of shadow so that those remaining will be deeper. More solid. Ghyslain's eyes black out completely, and the shadow cast by the grand piano grows and swells, little tendrils curling out from the edges, grasping one of the chairs and pulling it up next to Romain's. Before he makes any move to sit, he takes a small chance - one of the tendrils approaches Romain, rises up to eye level and brushes his hair off his forehead; it feels very much solid, but cool and dry.
Then he gets up, starts for the seat he's pulled up for himself.]
It is called - umbrakinesis. Control of shadow.
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... Umbrakinesis. Right.
[He... he can recognize it's a pretty damn cool power, too, but. Damn son.]
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[He's not smiling as he sits down, looking Romain squarely in the eye. That was no joke. And neither is this. It's important.]
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[Seriously, are you being a creep.]
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[Not a creep. Just someone who got a really, really bad reception when it first appeared and that hasn't improved a lot since. It is creepy.]
There are many who are disgusted. My family - no, my parents foremost - they and their people believe that gifts are...
[And now he's at a loss. The word is nearly identical in English, but he hasn't heard it since he left Quebec.]
... blasphème. Control over the darkness was not a compelling argument against their belief.
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... Dude. [what does he say to that? 'I'm sorry'? It's not really in either of their hands.] I'm not disgusted. Just - wasn't sure what you were gonna do with it.
[He did think about how his own power would be positioned against this, though. Shadow isn't matter. There's nothing he could do to stop it from hurting him if Ghyslain wanted it to.]
You control it pretty well.
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[It can be weaponized, easily, and losing control of it could mean horrible things. He's really not a bad person at heart. Just guarded, most of the time, and not of that positive a mind about the majority of people. But hurting them isn't the answer.]
Or intentional harm. [His probing expression softens just a little. He won't hurt you, Romain.]
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[No, seriously. Have you seen some of the psychos that walk in these halls. Never forget the Imogen Robinson incident.
... and just to clear the air a little.]
Wanna see what I can do?
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If you wish to show me.
[It's a bit of feigned indifference because he almost inadvertently exposed so much of himself already, but yes. He wants to see. Show him everything.]
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Got anything in your pockets?
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So he digs into the other pocket, pulls out a pack of gum and holds it up. What now?]
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[With his hands, he nudges Ghyslain to hold his hand up and flat out. Keep the gum sitting on it to show it won't just be a trick. Doing the same with his own hand and the coin, he lets the other boy watch as the round shape begins to change color and consistency. He should feel the weight on his own hand change too, until it's obvious that whatever's wrapped inside the tinfoil is no longer candy.]
Might not want to put that in your mouth anymore.
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[He's patient, waiting out the change and watching the coin as it starts to look - well, a lot like gum. Had he just swapped them directly, Ghyslain would have suspected telekinesis of some sort, but this is different. This is...
... he unwraps the gum package and finds a solid chunk of metal, eyes going wider at the sight of it. Sure enough, the coin - or what was the coin - looks exactly like gum.]
What is it? I do not know the words. ["Matter" is a pretty specific scientific word, and he's not in sciences; the concept, though, he thinks he understands.]
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You wanna keep it?
[who doesn't like to leave people with tokens of their power.]
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Matter. [That's what it is. The building blocks of the entire world. And Romain can just toy with it however he wants. Some people here are so incredibly powerful.]
C'est incroyable. [He turns the chunk of metal over and over in his hands - then, since they're full, he sends out a tendril from the edges of his chair's shadow to pick up the piece of coin-shaped gum. Bend it, fold it. Hold it up to his nose and smell it. It's not that he doesn't believe what's happened, but he's still trying to comprehend it entirely.]
I - ouais, I will keep it. But I will owe you money. [Oh, there's the finest edge of a smile, just quirking one corner of his full lips.]
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[Okay, he wouldn't admit it, but it's still pretty creepy to watch one of those things just snake its way up his hand and take the gum-coin. He was going to chew it... Oh well.]
What? [To the final remark he laughs.] Don't be silly. It's, like, ten cents. I'll live.
[But he's smiling. That's really nice.
Stop looking at Ghyslain's lips, dude, that's weird.]
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