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Dorian Montoir
What if....
Sat Feb 17, 2018 23:13

It was hard to believe that the MARS music room didn’t always look this way, that it wasn’t a permanently fixed room like the library or his bedroom, just waiting for them to come in. There was the green couch on the swirling yellow, blue and green rug. There was the picture on the wall which mirrored the colours of the rug. There was the record player in its green wooden cabinet. The only variation would be the selection of music is provided them. Although he supposed the fact that almost nothing changed was in some ways an indicator that it was saved especially for them. The other users of the library, or in his room Vlad or the elves or Melody, left things not quite as they had been before. He could see the use that those rooms had had in the time he had been away from them. Had other people been here, they would have moved things, or spoilt them - other people were mean or careless sometimes, and he couldn’t imagine everyone appreciating their cosy little room or treating it properly. But no one else came here, not this version of this room anyway, and so MARS was always just as they expected it to be - theirs and theirs alone, undisturbed by others.

Dorian had his head rested against Jehan’s shoulder, and his eyes were slowly making their way through each page of his book. Next to him were laid out his French-English dictionary, a few loose pages of notes, and his language notebook. Occasionally Dorian’s “half” of the sofa became rather more like two thirds, depending on the complexity of what he was reading, and occasionally he just gave up and shifted camp, lying on his stomach on the rug so that he could spread everything out more easily. Notes of classical music drifted over from the record player - he found it easier to concentrate on his book when he wasn’t being assaulted by words in a different modality. He could just have happily studied in silence, but he had found if they didn’t at least give some token acknowledgement to the room’s official purpose then the furniture started dissolving around them. Given that he could really take or leave the playing of records in the background when he was reading, he knew that their use of the MARS room was perhaps a little selfish, but they could get so much comfier here than they could in the library.

Today’s book was an introduction to philosophy. Poetry was perfect for exploring matters of the heart but it did very little to address the question of the mind, and Dorian was curious about both. Why did people behave as they did? What made things right, or wrong? Did the universe have a grand plan or was everything just random and chaotic? There were probably a lot of different subject areas that would be sources of answers to this, but he had decided to start with philosophy. He had had some ethics lectures in his early education and found them very interesting, and that was a branch of philosophy. He thought he might ask his parents whether his tutor could come back in the holidays, just for that subject, seeing as it wasn’t really covered at Sonora. He was sure Matthieu would have a field day with the idea of him voluntarily doing extra work, and in something so touchy-feely as ethics and philosophy. He wondered whether the extra hours under the protective watch of an adult would balance out the damage caused by the fact that doing said activity would make his brother want to punch him even harder than usual.

“Eech. I thought the Ancient Greece was supposed to be the very civilised society,” he commented, as he finished a paragraph. He read out to Jehan “Socrates encounters the character of Thrasymachus who insists that justice is the interest of the stronger. This was a common viewpoint in ancient Greece. This was a society that valued strength above everything else and it was Thrasymachus who held the view that it was acceptable to dominate others, lie, cheat and steal if one of strong enough to get away with it. Je suppose qu'il y a des **** dans toutes les sociétés,” he muttered. “Maybe Socrates and Plato will sort him out. I let you know.”

He continued to read. There was just enough about The Republic to make it sound very interesting but not to really make him feel he had got to know it. He skipped to the index. Ah, he would get more on it in a few pages. Excellent. Before he could discover the finer details of the matter though, Jehan spoke his name.


“Mm?” he responded, expecting to be read something in return, although Jehan’s tone didn’t quite suggest that.

Are we going to the ball together?

“Eh, quelle bal?” he asked. He was currently occupied with Ancient Greece, and had been expecting something from Jehan’s reading material, and it took a moment for him to get over the jarring discontinuity and remember the end of year event. “You mean the Sonora ball?” he clarified, lowering his book, “In the summer? Why do you think about that?” he asked. Since its mention at the start of the year, the Sonora ball hadn’t crossed his mind once. He had library duties. He had Émilie being at L’Institut to… well, not exactly ‘worry’ about, but…. well, okay, to worry about, and to exchange long, loving letters with. He had Russian to learn, and Club of Tongues meetings. And he had Jehan. There were so many other things, most of them pleasant distractions, which were filling his days.

“And,” he continued, closing the cover of his book with his finger marking his page, because for all that it seemed a simple enough query, it seemed that something was bothering Jehan, and thus he deserved Dorian’s undivided attention. He lifted his head from Jehan’s shoulder so he could scrutinise those striking blue eyes, the little windows to Jehan’s soul, and try to work out what was going on in there, “this is your question… On the last day of term, before I have to spend all those weeks apart from you, in agony and missing you every second… Do I, on that day, want to spend my time with you?” he asked, his tone gentle, implying the answer with every softly uttered affectionate syllable. He used his now free hand to reach out, gently supporting Jehan’s chin so that it was harder for his friend to avoid his eyes, “I thought that your house is famous for logic, mon fauconet,” he teased lightly, smiling at his friend. “What else would I do?”

  • What if? [Tag Dorian]Jehan Callahan, Sat Feb 17 11:26
    Jehan let out a sigh, one of comfort and contentment. He was in the MARS room with Dorian, both snuggled up on the sofa. Classical music was playing softly in the background, and the two boys were... more
    • What if.... — Dorian Montoir, Sat Feb 17 23:13
      • Safe and soundJehan, Tue Feb 20 15:12
        “Quelle bal?” These words made Jehan’s eyes widen slightly in disappointment. Surely Dorian hadn’t forgotten about the ball? It would be such a wonderful night, and yet his friend had just forgotten... more
        • Tread softlyDorian, Wed Feb 21 06:57
          There was something beyond special about Dorian and Jehan’s friendship. How rare that the universe constructed two souls with such sympathy towards one another, and that they should be in the right... more
          • Only foolsJehan, Wed Feb 21 18:28
            Jehan was riding on a wave of euphoria from the understanding he and Dorian had reached. Nothing too specific had been said, but it didn’t need to be. They were, after all, only young, and they also... more
            • Tea will make everything betterDorian, Thu Feb 22 09:15
              Jehan pulled back from the hug and was smiling. Dorian thought he knew all of Jehan’s smiles - he had made efforts to memorise them for rainy days - but this one seemed different. Was Jehan okay? He... more
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