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Post by Cecil Marzel on Aug 8, 2006 18:48:23 GMT -5
The year's first visit to Hogsmeade was always something memorable. It was a reminder, of sorts, that you could always rely on some things. The The Broomsticks had been in business since long before his mother's day, and they seemed to keep their quality constant. It was nothing fancy, by means of decor, but there was a kind of warm atmosphere that had to be admired.
Cecil recalled entering the tavern many a time, and today was no different. In a comfortable pair of worn bluejeans and a black button-up, sleeves rolled above his elbows, the youth sauntered in, smiling to the barkeep with an inclination of his head. A pair of coins was exchanged for a butterbeer, and the boy retreated to an empty table at the far side of the room. He sighed as he sat, popping the cork off the bottle, and tipping back a sip of the stuff.
This year would be an interesting one. It already was, of course, but it seemed like he'd have to make his choices by the end of it. The war was a troubling thing. He mulled this over some, tapping at the bottle thoughtfully. The only time Cecil ever seemed to look serious was at points like this-- when he was alone.
And, likely as not, even that wouldn't last long.
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Post by Oione Mireault on Aug 8, 2006 19:18:04 GMT -5
It was one hell of a week for Oione Mireault. And hectic or chaotic weren't really words enough to describe it. More like frantic.Yes, it definitely fitted. Seth's choice of joining the Knights made everything spin much faster and most importantly had enormous impact on her fate, since the letter from home came a day later. As reckless and egoistical his decision might have been, it wasn't that traitourous after all, it was bound to happen sooner or later and now as Oione thought of it, 'sooner' indeed was a better option, she would get over it more swiftly and create her future accepting the current state of things instead og risking her neck for the sake of...what exactly? Recovering from her fits of fury it finally dawned on her, that Seth was absolutely, completely and utterly right about this one. As impossible as it sounded.
However, as Oione marched briskly through narrow streets of Hogsmeade she felt thoroughly annoyed, the worst part was that it most definitely should not irk her. In fact she should not even care, but she did and it angered her beyond all words. Lily Potter was something her father would most likely call a delicate case. The problem was that Oione would gladly chop this delicate case into tiny bits. After mentioning it to Seth after face-saving (and memory damaging) alcohol consumption she dared not bring it up again, due to the inevitable humiliation it was sure to bring her. It was not like she cared, after all.
It was rather chilly outside, the autumn air crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of rainy November. Wrapping her woolly cloak tigher around herself she dived into the into The Three Broomsticks, suprisingly enough it wasn't as crowded as it used to be, but Oione cought a glimpse of a familiar face out of the corner of her eye and....couldn't stop herself from ginning. She walked up towards the table and stopped right before the boy, her arms frossed and a brilliant smile upon her face. "Mind if I join you?"
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Post by Cecil Marzel on Aug 8, 2006 19:31:59 GMT -5
Cecil, despite the weather, had never been one for wearing heavy clothes. He liked the feeling of the cold on his skin, as long as it remained reasonable. Still gazing rather absently at his beloved butterbeer, now half-empty, he'd very well failed to notice the chilled breeze that seeped through the tavern as the door was opened and shut. He was lost in his own mind, going through the countless things that he stored almost systematically there. Allies and rivals and enemies were adding up, and the count was something somewhat unnerving. It was so easy to find foes these days, even when you did your best to avoid spats. On his face, there was a very small, and very rare frown. It quirked one corner of his lips, and his eyes were hazed over in thought.
But that was broken, almost instantly, at the voice. It was a rather difficult thing, to catch Cecil Marzel unawares, but here, it seemed, was a girl that might one day perfect the art. He hadn't heard or seen her coming up, and blinked, surprised, when she spoke, face instantly washing of the troubled expression.
"Ah." there it was-- the half-smirk he always wore. "Miss Mireault. Please," he stood, and pulled out the chair opposite his own, gesturing for her to take it. "do."
Oione Mireault was something, to be sure. He never knew just what to expect from her. "What brings you to the Broomsticks on such a blustery day?" he inquired with a grin. "Care for a drink?"
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Post by Oione Mireault on Aug 11, 2006 7:44:17 GMT -5
Cecil Marzel was an interesting individual to say the least. He didn't live up to Oione's mental image of a Gryffindor; Mr.Marzel definitely wasn't someone known for being a just and fair do-gooder, in fact the girl sometimes wondered whether she was his friend or just a pawn in the twisted game he was playing. Not that it stopped her from seeking him out, rather the reverse, Cecil's charm made it all more appealing. They had a lot in common; both liked to lead people astray and wrap them around their fingers, that was why Oione read him to a certain level. It was odd kind friendship, based more on curiosity than trust.
Her voice seemed to startle him out of his thoughtful stupor and in a blink of an eye his hazed-over expression vanished, the trade-mark half-smirk slipping back into its rightful place. He stood up, offering her a seat and Oione couldn't help but grin. Always the gentlemen, Cecil was. It seemed almost unreal, when the majority of Hogwarts population would gladly come to your funeral. Smiling gratefully she took the chair. "What brings you to the Broomsticks on such a blustery day?" "Ah, in fact I'm surprised that I landed in the Three Broomsticks, myself" she answered, returning the grin "Since I daresay, the Hog's Head mirrors my current state of mind better. And you? I didn't expect to find you here, at least at this hour" there was a faint flash of mischief in her eyes. "There's too little people for you to...observe"
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Post by Cecil Marzel on Aug 14, 2006 18:51:51 GMT -5
Ah. She did always pin that aspect of him, didn't she? He liked that about her. They were very similar people, despite their opposing houses. Cecil had been sorted into Gryffindor by something other than destiny. The Hat hadn't known exactly what to do with him. It had taken a long, long while before speaking a single word out loud, conversing with Cecil's thoughts. In fact, he was fairly sure he'd manipulated the thing into his placement. They had an interesting relationship, Cecil and the Hat.
Oione was probably another complicated story. She knew how to read him, more than most other people could dream of managing. Normally, he would have detested that, but on the contrary, it was somewhat appealing. He loved seeing what she could tell about him. In this, his last year, he did look forward to see what else she'd come up with, for there was quite a bit she hadn't guessed. Quite a bit indeed.
"There's too little people for you to...observe" she had said. And it was true. Usually he would have chosen a place with more people to watch, just to keep himself occupied. However, Cecil smiled. "I'm not always watching everyone, miss Oione." He smiled as she took the seat, then sat down in his own, folding his hands together, and propping his chin atop them, lifting an eyebrow at her. "I come here more for sentimental value than anything else. Despite the fact that the dear Hog's Head does have a nicer variety of weirdies, the Broomsticks has its perks." paused at this, tipping his head to the side, peering at the girl across the table.
"What's gone so wrong that you would prefer the other, if I might ask?"
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Post by Oione Mireault on Aug 15, 2006 15:44:10 GMT -5
"I'm not always watching everyone, miss Oione." "Of course, you're not" said Oione, grinning wickedly at him "Forgive me for generalization, you've got too much class for watching everyone. You usually just pick a particularly interesting victim, don't you?" A bottle of butterbeer landed in front of her with a friendly wink from Madam Rosmerta, beaming Oione nodded a thank you. Those were ones of very few pros of hanging out with Seth, she'd always had a sort of a soft spot for him and Oione gained benefits from it as well. "Sentimental value?" she repated looking both interested and amused. "Now you're truly talking like an old man, Mr. Marzel." She took a sip of her butterbeer. "But I must admit, that it has its irresitable perks that make you want to come back."
"What's gone so wrong that you would prefer the other, if I might ask?" Oione laughed. "Rather what could go more wrong than usual, eh?" she corrected, looking at him eyes shining with good humour, something she didn't expect to feel so soon, but with Cecil everything seemed very...at ease. "The leader of my fanclub just decided to quit. I'm devastated."
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Post by Cecil Marzel on Aug 15, 2006 19:39:02 GMT -5
Cecil smiled to Rosmerta as she set the bottle down, nodding his approval. The woman was well-liked for good reasons. She treated her customers well, and had a a knack for being a good listener, it seemed. He'd pay her for the drink and tip the woman generously, later.
Picking up his butterbeer, he tipped his head to the side slightly, listening to his companion speak, and blowing softly at the lip of the bottle. It replied with a quiet, hollow sound, and he smirked a bit. You're truly talking like an old man, she said. He could accept that. Cecil shrugged lightly, taking a sip.
"Old men are usually quite a bit wiser than the young ones." he slipped in, before letting her continue.
Her answer to his question was a bit of a surprise. His expression changed very little; The young man only raised his eyebrows a bit, contemplating what she said. "The leader of my fanclub just decided to quit. I'm devastated."
Always the careful thing, Cecil was silent for a moment, contemplating the response. It could really only mean one thing, after all. Leaning back in his chair, he took another thoughtful sip. "Huh." He was watching her now. Like she'd said, he did pick his subjects carefully. "I'll admit... I never expected anything of the sort to happen. Surely it's not permanent...? You and Silver fight constantly, don't you?"
Truth be told, Cecil was no fan of Seth. Despite his selection of companions, namely Oione, the two boys had a mutual dislike between them. But he knew how close the other two were, so this news was somewhat concerning.
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Post by Oione Mireault on Aug 16, 2006 16:50:46 GMT -5
"Old men are usually quite a bit wiser than the young ones." "Is that so?" Oione raised her brow, looking politely perplexed. "I was under the distinct impression that we come to this world as fools and we die equally stupid" That was what intrigued her most about Cecil; his way of conversing with people, casual comments voiced as though they meant nothing, but in reality they were like tiny pieces of an enormous puzzle.
It seemed that Cecil took his time to chew Oione's words over and she wondered if he had at least a vague idea of how important it was. The seventh year wasn't very fond of the Slytherin boy, and it wasn't just because they were in separate and rival houses, it was something much deeper and definitely less childish than that. By some insane, twisted reason that usually got her in even more arguments with Seth, Oione liked to add fuel to the fire. "I'll admit... I never expected anything of the sort to happen. Surely it's not permanent...? You and Silver fight constantly, don't you?" Oh, yes. That was one of the reasons why Oione hadn't turned with the case to the Lestrange twins, they'd probably say something along those lines: 'But, well, Oione, it's normal, isn't it? You always fight'.
She took a sip of her butterbeer and actually smiled, a vacant sort of smile, as if a memory of something that happened long time ago came to her. "No, no" she shook her snowy head slightly"You mistake our little tiffs for fights. We just like a bit of glamour. You know, jinxes flying, prefects yelling at us, first-years running for cover" Oione winked and cast him a cheeky grin. But it vanished as her thoughts moved to recent events. "Now, it's completely different. "
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Post by Cecil Marzel on Aug 16, 2006 22:35:14 GMT -5
"Dear miss Oione... That's nothing but a common misconception." He was referring to the reply to his comment on the wisdom of old men. "If we remained as daft as we came throughout our whole lives, there would be entirely nothing to live for, would there?"
He was being awfully philosophical today. He'd have to cut back on playing Aristotle for awhile...
Yet again though, he let her continue, listening with small shrugs and nods and tipping his head to the side to indicate that he was listening deeply. He actually had been one of the prefects to yell once in a while, but mostly at Seth; It was more fun to piss that kid off, anyway. With Oione, it was a little more of just to see what she'd get him back later with. It seemed almost like a quiet game between them, over the past however long.
"Well..." When she was finished, Cecil propped his chin in one hand, leaning against the table and lifting an eye casually at her. "Would you like to explain things to me? I'm a good listener." He smirked a bit ruefully to himself upon saying this. "Whether people want me to listen or not."
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Post by Oione Mireault on Aug 19, 2006 16:55:05 GMT -5
"If we remained as daft as we came throughout our whole lives, there would be entirely nothing to live for, would there?"
"And is there, Mr. Marzel?" Oione raised an asking eye-brow. It was surprising how she managed to develop so much bitterness in such a short amount of time. "You're right , but I believe that we aren't anywhere close real wisdom". Was it only her or had they gone terribly philosophical today? Not that it was a problem, in fact to Oione it seemed even interesting as they appeared to be leading two separate conversations, one that masked the other. A challenging individual, Cecil marzel was. The Gryffindor left the 'prefect yelling' uncommented, which made Oione grin mentally. Seth and her simply couldn't pass without making as much mayhem as possible. And then it was of course Oione's job to bail them out of trouble. Or at least limit their trouble to an amount they could handle, trying to pull the wool over prefects' eyes and give 'the art of diplomacy' a whole new meaning. Obviously Cecil was not a man that could be easily fooled or led astray as he didn't buy even the most convincing stories, especially that he seem to be enjoying telling Seth off (to Seth's immense dismay); in Oione's case it was twisted little game based on witty comments and smug smirks.
"I'm afraid I can't" she said earnestly. "At least not the details" She knew that in fact she shouldn't even have started it, however it all weighted her down and she almost felt like the mythical Sisyph under the weight of his rock. If she told him everything it could put him in a dangerous situation, it wasn't a piece of gossip exchanged in the bathroom, after all. "Whether people want me to listen or not." Oione chuckled. "Mr.Marzel!" she exclaimed in mock outrage. "Are you telling me that you are not only a beholder, but also an eavesdropper? Tsk, tsk. And I thought that prefects should be more...well-mannered"
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Post by Cecil Marzel on Aug 19, 2006 18:05:22 GMT -5
Her first question went unanswered. The philosophical bosh was certainly piling up. he would give her an answer in due time, and only let the trademark smile slip onto his face, the one that knew more about you than you ever cared to reveal.
He, instead, focused on the second bit, the other half of their puzzle of a conversation. Cecil did understand, of course, that there were some secrets not meant to be divulged. "I'm afraid I can't" He nodded in Oione direction, then leaned back a bit in his chair, taking a sip of his butterbeer. Tapping the botle thoughtfully, he sighed. "As it is, being a... what did you call it? 'Beholder'. Being a beholder involves more than just watching people. And anyway," he set the empty bottle down on the table, looking rather amused with her accusations. "If we were really more well-mannered, I think half of us would probably be dead by now."
Alright, so his companion wasn't going to spill the story, it seemed. No matter, really. If it were that big a scandal, word would get out in the end anyhow. Cecil had a new focus-- He did like this girl. She was an interesting person to call a friend, with too much wit for her own good, but he liked her. And it was always uncomfortable to see a person you were fond of unhappy. Maybe they'd find something to cheer her up.
"As to your issues with Wisdom, Oione, I don't believe you're quite right." It was very rarely he'd bluntly tell someone they were wrong. Cecil enjoyed subtlety quite a bit. "Real wisdom is very much in our reach. Wisdom is realizing that we do not know everything, in fact, hardly anything, but that we still strive to learn and grow. Wisdom is realizing we are flawed, but living the best you can for it anyway."
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Post by Oione Mireault on Aug 22, 2006 18:42:42 GMT -5
Once again Oione was grateful for Cecil's tact. He didn't ask any more questions on the matter that had been ailing her for such a long time and thankfully left her unhealed wounds untouched. However, he proved to be an excellent person when one needed to get their mind off things. With Cecil Marzel she felt at ease, as impossible as it sounded. People usually didn't get comfortable around the seventh year Gryffindor, there was something about him...perhaps it was his trademark smirk, that made them unnerved. But Oione enjoyed it in some twisted way. Even the smile he gave her, that famous one which said he knew more about you than you could possibly imagine did not make her uncomfortable, as a matter of fact it only heated up the game. Or was it even a game?
"If we were really more well-mannered, I think half of us would probably be dead by now." "Is that so?" said Oione, barely concealing a smile. "I think I'm rather well-mannered myself and I seem to be breathing still. Perhaps it's because Seth is barbaric enough for the two of us" It was true. Or at least that was what people usually said when they thought she couldn't hear. Seth Silver and Oione Mireault were something that could only be described by a 'car crash'; loud, causing destruction (also to themselves) and it was hard to find somebody who wouldn't have heard about them. Not to mention that they were as different as day and night; Oione that always knew how to say 'sod off' in the politest way possible and Seth who said it unceremoniously. It made people wonder how on earth they had managed to not kill each-other.
"Real wisdom is very much in our reach. Wisdom is realizing that we do not know everything, in fact, hardly anything, but that we still strive to learn and grow. Wisdom is realizing we are flawed, but living the best you can for it anyway." "I must admit, Mr.Marzel, that you are indeed right" she nodded. "However, don't you feel that limiting Wisdom only to that is a little unfair?"
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Post by Cecil Marzel on Aug 22, 2006 20:01:26 GMT -5
'I seem to be breathing still,' she said. Cecil chuckled at that, shrugging one shoulder in silent admittance that it was the truth, before outright grinning at her. Not the smirk, not the bored, half-smile he practiced. He just plain grinned. "I said half, Dear Miss Mireault. You just have the good graces to be one of the half that doesn't get the worse side of the situation, hmm?"
He, too, did have a well-mannered demeanor around just about everyone. Even when he was nasty, he did it pleasantly. Cecil just had some bad habits-- and some secrets --too. All it meant was that he was human. Humans were flawed, as he'd already stated.
He flagged down Rosmerta as she passed, ordering a second round of bottles for them both, nodding slightly as his companion spoke. "Yes. It is unfair. But making it so simple also makes it attainable. People-- me, for example, like to think that they can acchieve wisdom. It's probably alot harder than I'm granting it. If you've ever heard of Buddha, or the story behind him, I suppose it does a much better job of explaining. But I practice magic, not religion, so I won't be the expert on the topic, myself."
Cecil had been trying so very hard to get of the philosophy train, but it was more difficult than it seemed. "Now, then..." he said conversationally as he uncorked his second butterbeer, and took a sip, his expression lightening. "Is there anything you'd like to do, besides sitting here and discussing morals and wisdom? Even if you don't want to share the story, there's bound to be something to take your mind off it. I've heard the Shrieking Shack is particularly spooky this season."
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Post by Oione Mireault on Aug 27, 2006 9:38:55 GMT -5
She grinned and raised her own bottle in a 'this calls for a toast' kind of way. She did not expect to be back in a more or less approachable mood(meaning that she didn't react violently whenever someone came near her) so soon. "I'm glad that you are in the lucky half as well, then" she said, gracing Cecil with a sparkling smile.
Frowning a little, which meant that she was deeply pondering Cecil's next words. It was somewhat amusing how they could dwell upon such existential and in fact essential matters such as wisdom, sitting in a Hogsmeade pub and drinking butterbeer. She nodded, simply agreeing with Cecil upon that crucial matter. People liked to think that things they caved the most were just within reach and simplifying the most complicated aspects made them attainable, even if it damaged the whole thing. 50% from something was better than 100% from nothing, after all. Cecil was right, even though Platon would probably beg to differ.
And then all of sudden they had changed the subject, Oione couldn't help but grin. There was absolutely she could grow weary with him around, eh? "How spooky exactly?" she asked, lowering her voice as though they were exchanging a secret or a particularly hot piece of gossip and flashed him a wolfish grin.
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Post by Cecil Marzel on Sept 17, 2006 14:18:56 GMT -5
Ah. And there they had it.
Cecil's eyes flickered in utter amusement as Oione's voice lowered to that hush-hush mode. This girl was something else-- wild and ready to indulge herself even when she was feeling less that fabulous a few minutes before. Oione made a good friend to have... He really did enjoy her company.
Thus, Cecil leaned in as if wanting to be included in the secret, and echoed her grin. "Oh, terribly so, I'm afraid. It's all the gab between the Hogwarts ghosts-- apparently a new spirit has taken up his residence there." Cecil nodded earnestly to accentuate his point. "And, as far as I've heard, it's a particularly hostile one. It might be..."
Here, his voice gained a mischievious, mocking air to it.
"Well, it might be too much for a girl like yourself to handle." It was a playful challenge. He was intent to see how indignant her response would be.
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