Profile
Introduction
Playlist :
Near Light - Olafur Arnalds
Moonlight Sonata - Beethoven
Cité Radieuse - Saycet
Cherries & Memories - Saycet
In the depths of a soulless castle, somewhere close to the edge of a cliff, resonates a fateful melody.
Music notes dances through time, without bounds, from midnight to noon, never they stop.
Invariably, again and again..
Slumbering in front of the keyboard, the back arched by the passing of time, the keys worn out by his sharp claws.
The evil pianist who never stops.
Again and again, the same threnody, anthem to the one who has lost everything.
Hunched by his notebook, never he straightens, living by the feeble flame of a melted candle.
Dull candelabras shades a gloomy light on a room where the sun is blocked out by heavy velvet curtains.
Dust piles up on this massive ebony piano, only the keyboard shines with an immaculate white glow.
Again and again.
As the sun sets in the sky, a deep voice rises up, full of grace and power, this only voice capable of piercing your soul.
Again and again, this never ending threnody, in this remote castle, where even the birds muffle their chirping in fear of offending the evil pianist who has even lost his soul.
Basics
| Name | Maxime Von Verzweiflung |
| Age | 25 year old |
| Gender | Male |
| Ethnicity | Gelert |
| Theme | Near Light - Olafur Arnalds |
Sexuality Asexual (no interest in dating either)
Character
| Charisma | ★ ★ ★ ★ |
| Kindness | ★ ★ ★ |
| Integrity | ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ |
| Social | ★ |
| Intelligence | ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ |
Physical
| Height | 1.80m |
| Build | Lightweight (60kg) |
| Eyes | Green |
| Skin | Red |
| Hair | Black & Spiky |
About
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Likes
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Dislikes
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Quirks
- One
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Links
Story
HTML by lowkeywicked
VincentI was born during a starless night, inside the family manor, located in the suburbs of Neovia. The beginning of my existence was terribly ordinary and unworthy of being told. My father was a famous tailor and had contacts with the high nobility and even with royalty. He quickly made a fortune selling all sorts of luxurious garments. My mother was a former dancer who had abandoned her ballerinas to marry my father.I had two brothers, both of them way taller and stronger than myself. Hugo was the oldest of them both, strong, athletic and real clever, was banished from our house by our parents after too many thefts and other mischiefs. I never got the chance to really know him as he was always distant and mysterious. Then came Maxime, a piano virtuoso, capable of melodies worthy of heaven. As you can imagine, he was, and by far, our parents' favourite. I spent my days in the shadows, to discretely spy on him. But this was about to change. - « Still there watching me ? It is not really polite. » he said softly, making me jump. - « As if I wanted to hear you play that stupid piano ! » I sharply answered, vexed he caught me spying on him. Even though I was facing his back, I knew he was smiling softly, mocking me tenderly. - « Are you sure you don't want to come here so I can teach you how to play a few notes ? » He had sparked my interest, but even so, I persisted on hiding behind one of the pillars of the living room. He did not insist. He started playing again, his black hair falling on his nose and his back arched. I was dying to let my small fingers roam free on this keyboard capable of the most delightful melodies, even though I was only six. Without even glancing at me, he knew I was right by his side. Gently, he hoisted me next to him, on the little velvet bench. - «You see, what's magnificent with the piano, is that there's no limit. You can reinvent the music without end.» His discourses were always burning with passion when he was talking about music. He wasn't allowing the world to listen to his music, it was the world that came into his soul just to have the privilege to listen to it. My first notes on this instrument were catastrophic, no matter which key I was touching, the result was always the same, a cacophony of grotesque sounds. My disappointed pout made Maxime smile, who then brushed my hair with his hand. He started to laugh. It was the very first time that I've heard him laugh so freely. And even like that, the sound of his voice was perfectly crystal clear. |
VincentIt was perfect !I had spent two hours on this drawing for Mother's Day, and I was sure mom would love it ! It was late at night and I should have already been asleep for more than three hours. No matter what, I had to show it to her right now. I knew that at these late hours, she would be in papa's office. The door was ajar and I could see the ray of light make frighting shadows on the wallpaper yellowed by the passing of time. - Raleigh, I refuse, he's too young !, said my mother in an anxious voice, which was unusual with her. - Lili, Maxime is a piano genius, his current teachers have nothing left to teach him. He must travel if he wants to become a master. , my father seemed assertive, like always . - He's only 17, he's too young !, mom insisted. - Lili, dear, at this age, you are already a man. My mother let out a huge sigh. Maxime was going to leave ? Impossible ! Dad had already drove Hugo away, he couldn't take my brother away ! This night, I thought it was safer to go back to bed. Tomorrow morning came, and with it, all my fears came true. Maxime was packing his things and was wearing his most elegant ensemble. Mama was crying next to him while Papa was boasting about the big city and all it had to offer. A carriage was parked in front of the house, and by the look of it, it was ready to leave at anytime. It was at that time that Maxime noticed me and came toward me. - I leave my piano into your care, little brother. He kissed our parents goodbye and disappeared into the carriage, which then vanished towards the horizon. It was at that moment that I knew. I would become an even better pianist than my brother and become a prodigy in all arts ! |
HugoI've always hated that house. Too many rules, too many do this, do that. Every passing day was even more boring than the one preceding it.I was only five when I realised that life was not made for me. My parents had principles on a lot of things. Since we were only a second rate noble family, we had to compensate with a strict and varied education. That is why at age three, I had music lessons on top of the hours long private lessons I had to do already. Dad had picked the violin for me. I hated every single second spent playing that instrument, I still loathe it nowadays. What I liked was playing outside, test my limits, my physical abilities and agility. The kind of stuff you can hardly do with maths and music scores. Everytime my teachers would come home, I'd disappear. After that, I started to make things vanish, a fork, a painting. I always managed to put them back where they belonged before anyone could understand what happened. It was right when I started to realise my potential, that my brother came into this world. He was so tiny, and really skinny too, but you could see a great intelligence in his eyes, probably highlighted by his heterochromia. His fingers were long and thin and his skin relatively cold. He had a patch of black hair on his head, just like dad's. My parents named him Maxime, just like our grand-father. At age one (I was four), Maxime proved to be of a superior intellect. He was already speaking, sure in a very basic way, but without any mistakes. My father, who never once shown any interest in me, quickly concentrated all his attention on him. More than jealousy, I felt a profound sorrow for Max. His life would become a living nightmare. |
HugoConsidering his intelligence, my brother was sent to school early on. He had only just started to learn how to walk, but my father wanted to exploit his abilities as soon as possible.Due to a weak bodily constitution, he never really learnt how to socialise since he rarely left the house, even during noble families dinners and parties. We were in the same school. Nobody ever picked on me since I was the tallest and strongest around, Max wasn't as lucky as I was on that matter. Every single day, the school's thugs would pick on him, because he was small and weak, but mostly because he was brilliant. People hate those who are different, because they are afraid and do not know any other alternative than violence. I couldn't let my little brother get punched around without saying anything. I was often summoned to the director's office for hitting on those weaklings and excluded now and then as you can imagine. Following those events, my father only shown contempt towards me. He said I was a disgrace to this family. I hated my father but loved my mother. She was kind and sweet, and at night, when my father was working on his clothing orders, she would take both Maxime and I in her bed, hugged us tightly against her chest and would read us bedtime stories. Max was only interested in historical stories or tales about musicians. What I loved however, was epic stories about thieves and pirates ! The story that I loved the most, was the one about Kanrik, the leader of the infamous thieves guild. I swore that night that, somedays, I would meet him in person. |
MaximeI was one and a half when I started playing the piano.I could never tell why I was attracked to this black monument full of power. It stood firmly in the living room, like a throne waiting for its king. Hugo always did his best to avoid it, but me, I couldn't stop looking at it. From time to time, my father would play simple melodies, with quite a lot of wrong notes. He would always end up smashing the keyboard in frustration. This piano was only there for the show and nobody at home really knew how to play it. One day, on the radio, I heard an exquisite piano composition play, and without understanding how, I could see the music notes dancing in front of my eyes. I knew where to place my fingers, what pression to use. Everything was coming to me as naturally as breathing. So I wanted to try. I played the first notes, but even so I knew what I had to do, I was still missing something essential : technique. I wasn't aware at that moment that my dad was looking at me. It was around that time that my brother's words came back into my memory : «Never show, not even one bit, of talent in front of dad.» |
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