(Harun Kemal debut)
Harun had no idea why he was going to the library. He had no work assignments to finish, having finished all his papers and such already, with the exception of a piece of long overdue Spanish homework (an essay about his life story they'd started in lesson), and Spanish was a waste of a subject in Harun's opinion. He could already speak German, Turkish and English, a fourth language would just confuse him. Maybe it was in the vain hope he would spot a good novel, comic or book to sit down and read. He may have wanted to see if any of his friends were in there. Maybe, he just wanted a quiet place to think about life and stare absentmindedly at the wall, away from the rest of the student body. The library always was a nice break for Harun, when he wanted to escape the social aspect of school life.
Regardless of why he decided to go to the library, Harun was there now, and as he pushed the doors open and stepped into the large, quiet room, he briefly surveyed the library, seeing if he could spot anything to do. As expected, the library did offer quite a wide selection of books, magazines and such, but he didn't feel like rifling through all the cluttered shelves for a book that might interest him. He could go on a computer and browse the web, but surfing forums and game websites in the library wasn't exactly appreciated by the librarian, Mrs. Collins or whatever her name was. It wouldn't get him thrown off the computer, but she had a pet peeve for those sorts of sites, it seemed, that only intensified as the school year drew to a close. And listening to music on his iPod (currently stuffed lazily into his shirt pocket, with one earbud hanging out) would probably get him told by either Mrs. Collins or a studious fellow student that it was too loud, and he'd have to turn it down until the music became an indecipherable blur.
Speaking of Mrs. Collins, Harun glanced at her tidily-organised desk and noticed she was conspicuously absent, much to the annoyance of the student waiting at the desk to check out a book. Maybe he could get away with surfing whatever sites he wanted, or listening to his music, but he didn't particularly feel like it.
The library itself obviously wasn't going to keep Harun entertained for long today, so he decided to see if he could spot anyone he could hang out and talk with. The library had relatively few people in it, which was strange considering that it should be busy this time of the year. There were still quite a few kids though, most of whom were not in his grade or otherwise complete strangers to him, and while he did spot a few people around his age, most were in a big group chatting and studying (and Harun did not like intruding on big conversations) or kids who were alone and (having been in similar moods himself) obviously wanted to be left alone.
Harun eventually gave up on trying to find someone to talk to, so he begrudgingly decided to do that Spanish homework. Slipping his bag off his shoulder, he opened the zip and took out his blue Spanish book, and took out a biro from his pocket. Harun sat down, and tried continuing the paragraphs from when he left off in lesson. He got through five words ("Mi dormitorio es muchos pequeno", which he knew was probably wrong), before giving up and going over to the computer to cheat. He hated Spanish. The articles, tenses and conjugations were all just so confusing. His parents always said "You should learn another language" when he was picking what subjects to do. He now regretted listening to that piece of advice.
Logging onto the nearest computer, Harun briefly scanned the room to check Mrs. Collins wasn't in sight. He had never cheated like this before (sure, he'd "helped" others finish their homework, but that was the only way nerds like himself could avoid a beating sometimes, and he was saving up for an Xbox at the time), but he felt he deserved a break after so many years of honest schoolwork, and it was just a regular piece of homework, nothing special. Anyway, he had a senior trip to prepare for and a life to live; soon-to-be-meaningless homework had to take a back seat. He knew a website that could provide inspiration for the two paragraphs he had left to do. Briefly looking around the library, he couldn't help but notice that several other students were on the website as well. Keeping an eye out in case Mrs. Collins returned, or in case anyone he knew walked into the library, he set to work copying a couple of extracts from the site.
First time for everything
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General Goose
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Casey the Undead†
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Rena Peters
Rena Peters debut.
Why was it that whenever she needed help, Mrs. Collins just wasn't there to help her? Rena held the overly large science book in her arms, shifting it around in some vain attempt to get it to feel comfortable in her arms. After a moment or too she gave up, setting the book down on the desk. She leaned against the wood for a moment, drumming her fingers lazily while waiting. Where was that woman when you needed her?
Rena paused for a moment and glanced around the room she was in. The library wasn't too crowded today, which didn't matter much to Rena as she didn't see anyone she knew inside. She looked past the desk for Mrs. Collins, and began drumming her fingers slightly louder, her annoyance starting to bubble. The doors pushed open, and she saw a figure enter the room. Her eyes narrowed as she took the boy in.
She knew him, didn't she? He had a face that certainly seemed familiar, at the very least. His eyes briefly glanced over her, and she wondered if he recognized her. Probably not. She wasn't a very "out there" person. She would be surprised if his brain even recognized that she was there at all.
After another minute or so, she watched him pull out a Spanish book. Of course! He was in her Spanish class, wasn't he? He had one of those strange names. What was it again? Harold? Haren? Yes, Haren sounded right.
She watched him as he got up and went to a computer. She couldn't imagine why he needed a computer to do Spanish homework, but she hadn't even written down the assignment today, so she figured he had his reasons. She glanced around again for Mrs. Collins, who wasn't in sight, and then back at Haren.
It was like her older sister Clara was always saying. "Stop being so worried about talking to people! Don't get nervous, just be nice. I'm sure you'll make tons of friends."
Of course, every time she tried to talk to people she got nervous, which led to her saying several incredibly stupid things, blushing, mumbling something under her breath, and then scampering away as fast as she very well could.
She took a breath. Haren seemed nice enough. And he wasn't talking to anyone, so maybe he had the same problem she did. She swallowed her fear and walked towards him. This would be easy, right?
"Hey Haren! What's up?" She paused for a brief moment and looked down at his Spanish book.
Harun Kemal
Crap.
"I...I mean Harun! Of course it's Harun, I mean why would I say Haren?" Oh God, here came the nervous talking. This was going downhill, and very quickly.
She trailed off. So she mispronounced his name, and was currently making an utter fool of herself. The only way it could get any worse was if he started laughing at her, which he was almost certain to do anyway.
"Oh, God."
Rena Peters debut.
Why was it that whenever she needed help, Mrs. Collins just wasn't there to help her? Rena held the overly large science book in her arms, shifting it around in some vain attempt to get it to feel comfortable in her arms. After a moment or too she gave up, setting the book down on the desk. She leaned against the wood for a moment, drumming her fingers lazily while waiting. Where was that woman when you needed her?
Rena paused for a moment and glanced around the room she was in. The library wasn't too crowded today, which didn't matter much to Rena as she didn't see anyone she knew inside. She looked past the desk for Mrs. Collins, and began drumming her fingers slightly louder, her annoyance starting to bubble. The doors pushed open, and she saw a figure enter the room. Her eyes narrowed as she took the boy in.
She knew him, didn't she? He had a face that certainly seemed familiar, at the very least. His eyes briefly glanced over her, and she wondered if he recognized her. Probably not. She wasn't a very "out there" person. She would be surprised if his brain even recognized that she was there at all.
After another minute or so, she watched him pull out a Spanish book. Of course! He was in her Spanish class, wasn't he? He had one of those strange names. What was it again? Harold? Haren? Yes, Haren sounded right.
She watched him as he got up and went to a computer. She couldn't imagine why he needed a computer to do Spanish homework, but she hadn't even written down the assignment today, so she figured he had his reasons. She glanced around again for Mrs. Collins, who wasn't in sight, and then back at Haren.
It was like her older sister Clara was always saying. "Stop being so worried about talking to people! Don't get nervous, just be nice. I'm sure you'll make tons of friends."
Of course, every time she tried to talk to people she got nervous, which led to her saying several incredibly stupid things, blushing, mumbling something under her breath, and then scampering away as fast as she very well could.
She took a breath. Haren seemed nice enough. And he wasn't talking to anyone, so maybe he had the same problem she did. She swallowed her fear and walked towards him. This would be easy, right?
"Hey Haren! What's up?" She paused for a brief moment and looked down at his Spanish book.
Harun Kemal
Crap.
"I...I mean Harun! Of course it's Harun, I mean why would I say Haren?" Oh God, here came the nervous talking. This was going downhill, and very quickly.
She trailed off. So she mispronounced his name, and was currently making an utter fool of herself. The only way it could get any worse was if he started laughing at her, which he was almost certain to do anyway.
"Oh, God."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Casey the Undead. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Hey, just a friendly reminder from the staff not to godmod. GMing is controlling another person's character without their permission. It may seem minor, but even small things can make a huge difference on the island. In this case, the offending bits are assuming Harun exited the website and turned towards Rena. Just remember to leave characters' reactions to their handlers. Thanks!
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General Goose
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Copying it was easy enough, just a few tweaks here and there to throw off any teachers searching for cheaters. For a nerd, Harun was pleased to say he was quite good at cheating when he had to. He was also pleased to say he mostly avoided cheating; he thought that those who just cheated through life were lazy, immoral dickheads, but a little shortcut here and there couldn't be condemned. When this was done, he was probably going to go back outside, or maybe surf the web a bit, check out some of his favourite websites....
"Hey Haren! What's up?"
The sudden guest made him jump a bit; he weren't expecting someone to talk to him. Quickly scrolling down the page so she couldn't see what was on the screen was identical to what was in his book, he turned around to greet her. It was the girl who had been at Mrs. Collins's desk. He quickly racked his brains to try and remember where he knew her from. He knew her from his Spanish class, Rena Paulson or Patterson or Petal or something like that. She was a rather quiet, socially awkward kid, much like himself in several ways. Before he could reply or even notice she got his name wrong, she spoke again.
"I...I mean Harun! Of course it's Harun, I mean why would I say Haren?"
Now, Harun couldn't exactly say he liked people messing up his name, but he was used to it. And God, this girl was nervous. Talking to him, of all people. He was normally the socially awkward one, and it was a bit uncomfortable and unusual NOT being the one who was messing up with casual small talk. As she muttered a nervous "Oh God", Harun tried responding to help calm her down. From what he knew off her, she was a decent girl.
"Hey, it's no problem", he quickly replied, shrugging it off. Returning to her original question, he said "Yeah, nothing much going on. And what's up with you....Rena, is it?" he added, making sure to get her name right.
"Hey Haren! What's up?"
The sudden guest made him jump a bit; he weren't expecting someone to talk to him. Quickly scrolling down the page so she couldn't see what was on the screen was identical to what was in his book, he turned around to greet her. It was the girl who had been at Mrs. Collins's desk. He quickly racked his brains to try and remember where he knew her from. He knew her from his Spanish class, Rena Paulson or Patterson or Petal or something like that. She was a rather quiet, socially awkward kid, much like himself in several ways. Before he could reply or even notice she got his name wrong, she spoke again.
"I...I mean Harun! Of course it's Harun, I mean why would I say Haren?"
Now, Harun couldn't exactly say he liked people messing up his name, but he was used to it. And God, this girl was nervous. Talking to him, of all people. He was normally the socially awkward one, and it was a bit uncomfortable and unusual NOT being the one who was messing up with casual small talk. As she muttered a nervous "Oh God", Harun tried responding to help calm her down. From what he knew off her, she was a decent girl.
"Hey, it's no problem", he quickly replied, shrugging it off. Returning to her original question, he said "Yeah, nothing much going on. And what's up with you....Rena, is it?" he added, making sure to get her name right.
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Casey the Undead†
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"Hey it's not problem. Yeah nothing much is going on. What's up with you... Rena, is it?"
The part of her stomach that was knotted seemed to untangle itself a bit, and she felt her body relax, stopping just short of an audible sigh. He hadn't complained about the name. That was a start. And he got hers right! That was a miracle on it's own.
Now all she had to do was come up with a completely non-idiotic answer to his question.
"Yeah, it's Rena. Not much really. I'm waiting to check out a book, but Mrs. Collins is M.I.A." For a brief moment she considered adding a joke to the end, but a smarter part of her reasoned against it. She probably would have floundered it, or he wouldn't have laughed, or it would wind up like that one time she jokingly asked a girl when the baby was coming, which, as it turned out, was not a socially acceptable way to talk to someone.
She then suddenly came across the realization that she was having an honest to God conversation with some one that wasn't going entirely terrible. At least she hoped. From her perspective it was going quite well. Of course, here came the tricky part. She was now tasked with continuing the conversation without somehow annoying Harun.
She wondered idly if she had anything in common with Harun outside of Spanish class. Deciding not to venture into territory that was unknown, she simply continued on the same strain of conversation that had been going on.
"So, how's the Spanish homework? God, I hope it's easy, sometimes the only thing that keeps me going through that class is the thought that at least I didn't take my mother's advice and take Latin."
It took her a second to realize that she had unknowingly just made a joke. A thousand thoughts smashed into her head, almost all of them having to do with how to react to the joke. Should she laugh at it? No that was stupid, no one laughs at their own jokes. What if he didn't laugh? What if he did laugh? What if he laughed for the wrong reasons?
She mentally slapped herself. She wasn't going to overthink it. Instead, she just calmly took another breath and paused for his response.
The part of her stomach that was knotted seemed to untangle itself a bit, and she felt her body relax, stopping just short of an audible sigh. He hadn't complained about the name. That was a start. And he got hers right! That was a miracle on it's own.
Now all she had to do was come up with a completely non-idiotic answer to his question.
"Yeah, it's Rena. Not much really. I'm waiting to check out a book, but Mrs. Collins is M.I.A." For a brief moment she considered adding a joke to the end, but a smarter part of her reasoned against it. She probably would have floundered it, or he wouldn't have laughed, or it would wind up like that one time she jokingly asked a girl when the baby was coming, which, as it turned out, was not a socially acceptable way to talk to someone.
She then suddenly came across the realization that she was having an honest to God conversation with some one that wasn't going entirely terrible. At least she hoped. From her perspective it was going quite well. Of course, here came the tricky part. She was now tasked with continuing the conversation without somehow annoying Harun.
She wondered idly if she had anything in common with Harun outside of Spanish class. Deciding not to venture into territory that was unknown, she simply continued on the same strain of conversation that had been going on.
"So, how's the Spanish homework? God, I hope it's easy, sometimes the only thing that keeps me going through that class is the thought that at least I didn't take my mother's advice and take Latin."
It took her a second to realize that she had unknowingly just made a joke. A thousand thoughts smashed into her head, almost all of them having to do with how to react to the joke. Should she laugh at it? No that was stupid, no one laughs at their own jokes. What if he didn't laugh? What if he did laugh? What if he laughed for the wrong reasons?
She mentally slapped herself. She wasn't going to overthink it. Instead, she just calmly took another breath and paused for his response.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Casey the Undead. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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General Goose
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"Yeah, it's Rena. Not much really. I'm waiting to check out a book, but Mrs. Collins is M.I.A."
Harun nodded sympathetically, pausing to scratch his chin. Briefly glancing away from Rena to Mrs. Collins's desk, he noticed she was still absent. Well, he was almost finished with the Spanish, just needed a bit more filler, so if the resident librarian did arrive he had nothing to worry about.
"So, how's the Spanish homework? God, I hope it's easy, sometimes the only thing that keeps me going through that class is the thought that at least I didn't take my mother's advice and take Latin."
Harun chuckled, nodding his head in agreement. "Yeah, good point. Don't know why they still teach Latin, and I definitely don't know why anyone would wanna pick it. Pointless language." It was the twenty-first century. Some people still couldn't just...let go of the Roman Empire and the era of Latin. "And yeah, Spanish homework's fine, I got most of it done in lesson though." Pausing slightly as he leant back in his chair, he asked casually "Know any other languages?"
Harun nodded sympathetically, pausing to scratch his chin. Briefly glancing away from Rena to Mrs. Collins's desk, he noticed she was still absent. Well, he was almost finished with the Spanish, just needed a bit more filler, so if the resident librarian did arrive he had nothing to worry about.
"So, how's the Spanish homework? God, I hope it's easy, sometimes the only thing that keeps me going through that class is the thought that at least I didn't take my mother's advice and take Latin."
Harun chuckled, nodding his head in agreement. "Yeah, good point. Don't know why they still teach Latin, and I definitely don't know why anyone would wanna pick it. Pointless language." It was the twenty-first century. Some people still couldn't just...let go of the Roman Empire and the era of Latin. "And yeah, Spanish homework's fine, I got most of it done in lesson though." Pausing slightly as he leant back in his chair, he asked casually "Know any other languages?"
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Casey the Undead†
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Rena couldn't help but smile slightly as he chuckled at her joke. She found herself growing calmer, and was surprised with how comfortable she was.
"Yeah, good point. Don't know why they still teach Latin, and I definitely don't know why anyone would wanna pick it. Pointless language."
For a moment she was glad her mother wasn't here to hear that. If she was, then poor Harun would have been attacked with the skilled lawyer's list of the top 25 reasons Latin was a language everyone ought to know. Rena chuckled slightly at the memory of her older brother Jake sitting through that lecture week after week. By the end of his Junior year, he had learned to never complain about Latin again.
But Rena couldn't argue his point on why anyone would want to take Latin. In fact, she didn't even think her parents wanted to ever take Latin.
"Know any other languages?"
Rena pondered this for a moment. She knew some Latin phrases (mostly the phrases that her parents used in common conversation. When your parents are lawyers, they tend to use big words with complex definitions, and Rena and her siblings had been forced to learn to adapt). However, she knew next to nothing, and never said that because she knew what Tabula Rasa meant she knew Latin.
She supposed she could argue that she spoke French. She had been a ballet dancer for seven years now, and that made certain words stick for sure. However, while she could probably explain every move in Anna Pavlova's The Dying Swan, when it came to asking where the bathroom was and what time it happened to be she would be completely lost.
Rena wondered if she should just say no. It was mostly the truth, but somehow it sounded so boring. Rena hated the fact that she was boring. Here she was, a girl of average height and average weight with an average face, who looked and sounded like almost any other girl out there. Of course, she wasn't any other girl out there. But she simply refused to see that.
So, after a second, she settled on an answer that wasn't a blatant lie, and didn't really fudge the truth. It was just interesting enough to keep her from completely blending in with her surroundings.
"Yeah, I know a bit of French. How about you? With a name like Harun, you probably know something."
A brief part of her mind wondered if that was offensive, but for the first time in, well practically ever, Rena ignored it. She was comfortable with what she said.
Hey, maybe this whole socializing thing isn't half bad!
"Yeah, good point. Don't know why they still teach Latin, and I definitely don't know why anyone would wanna pick it. Pointless language."
For a moment she was glad her mother wasn't here to hear that. If she was, then poor Harun would have been attacked with the skilled lawyer's list of the top 25 reasons Latin was a language everyone ought to know. Rena chuckled slightly at the memory of her older brother Jake sitting through that lecture week after week. By the end of his Junior year, he had learned to never complain about Latin again.
But Rena couldn't argue his point on why anyone would want to take Latin. In fact, she didn't even think her parents wanted to ever take Latin.
"Know any other languages?"
Rena pondered this for a moment. She knew some Latin phrases (mostly the phrases that her parents used in common conversation. When your parents are lawyers, they tend to use big words with complex definitions, and Rena and her siblings had been forced to learn to adapt). However, she knew next to nothing, and never said that because she knew what Tabula Rasa meant she knew Latin.
She supposed she could argue that she spoke French. She had been a ballet dancer for seven years now, and that made certain words stick for sure. However, while she could probably explain every move in Anna Pavlova's The Dying Swan, when it came to asking where the bathroom was and what time it happened to be she would be completely lost.
Rena wondered if she should just say no. It was mostly the truth, but somehow it sounded so boring. Rena hated the fact that she was boring. Here she was, a girl of average height and average weight with an average face, who looked and sounded like almost any other girl out there. Of course, she wasn't any other girl out there. But she simply refused to see that.
So, after a second, she settled on an answer that wasn't a blatant lie, and didn't really fudge the truth. It was just interesting enough to keep her from completely blending in with her surroundings.
"Yeah, I know a bit of French. How about you? With a name like Harun, you probably know something."
A brief part of her mind wondered if that was offensive, but for the first time in, well practically ever, Rena ignored it. She was comfortable with what she said.
Hey, maybe this whole socializing thing isn't half bad!
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Casey the Undead. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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General Goose
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"Yeah, I know a bit of French. How about you? With a name like Harun, you probably know something."
Harun chuckled, and briefly scratched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah", he said, nodding. "German and Turkish. Was born in Germany and my family's Turkish....so yeah." Harun was quite proud of his "trilingual" background, and enjoyed inserting gratuitous German and Turkish into everyday conversation. Deciding to quickly finish off his Spanish homework, he muttered "Sorry, hold on a sec" to Rena, and sloppily finished off a couple of sentences in his book, before closing it shut and shutting the website window. Putting his book and pen back in his bag and logging out, he turned back to Rena.
"Yeah....like, most of the music on my iPod is German and Turkish actually..." He took out his iPod from his pocket, got onto the song list and showed it to Rena. Bands like Rammstein and Megaherz represented Harun's German birth, and bands like maNga represented his Turkish ancestry. "Good music. I mean, bands like Rammstein have lyrics that are a wee bit disturbing if you understand them, but it's still awesome as hell." He decided to pick a random song from the list.
Zwitter.
Harun chuckled. Explaining that song to Rena would be a joy.
Harun chuckled, and briefly scratched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah", he said, nodding. "German and Turkish. Was born in Germany and my family's Turkish....so yeah." Harun was quite proud of his "trilingual" background, and enjoyed inserting gratuitous German and Turkish into everyday conversation. Deciding to quickly finish off his Spanish homework, he muttered "Sorry, hold on a sec" to Rena, and sloppily finished off a couple of sentences in his book, before closing it shut and shutting the website window. Putting his book and pen back in his bag and logging out, he turned back to Rena.
"Yeah....like, most of the music on my iPod is German and Turkish actually..." He took out his iPod from his pocket, got onto the song list and showed it to Rena. Bands like Rammstein and Megaherz represented Harun's German birth, and bands like maNga represented his Turkish ancestry. "Good music. I mean, bands like Rammstein have lyrics that are a wee bit disturbing if you understand them, but it's still awesome as hell." He decided to pick a random song from the list.
Zwitter.
Harun chuckled. Explaining that song to Rena would be a joy.
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Casey the Undead†
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"Yeah. German and Turkish."
Well, next to that, Rena couldn't help but feel slightly pathetic.
Of course, it didn't matter that she didn't really know French that well. She was honestly more worried that he spoke French, and would then start a conversation in French. She pondered the fact that he had grown up in Germany, and wondered what that had been like. Rena herself had never really felt the desire to travel the world, but she took the minute or so that he was finishing his Spanish homework in and pondered what it would be like to wake up every morning in a different country.
She had once asked her brother Jake if they had French fries in France, which he had laughed at. He never had given her an answer, come to think of it, but that was besides the point. She wondered silently what it would be like if they didn't have French Fries. Sure, they weren't her favorite food, but they were something she was accustomed too; they were always on the side of a sandwich, always served with hot dogs, and always topped with cheese for baseball games.
She wondered what would be more difficult; moving to America or moving from America. She thought that it really depended on what you knew. She supposed that, maybe, if you knew the language they spoke in the new country, it wouldn't matter. It'd be easy moving to England or America if you spoke English, or moving to Germany if you knew German. But either way you were still uprooting your home, moving away from everything that made you comfortable, everyone who you cared for (save maybe for family), into an entirely new place.
Rena never truly feared being alone. It was simply something she was used to. She spent most of her time alone. She was alone in class, alone at home, alone at morning, noon and night. It didn't bother her at all. But she supposed it bothered some people. It hurt some people to be alone, those who weren't used to it, those who didn't understand that loneliness wasn't a bad thing, rather it was just a hurdle to overcome, like bad acne, or a cold. It never lasted for too long, and if it did, you just got used to it.
A deep, quiet part of her mind wondered if that was the reason she had never really talked to Harun before today. Maybe she was just used to being alone, so used to it that became as common as brushing her teeth. The thought never occurred to her to not brush her teeth, and the thought of enjoying talking to someone hadn't ever either. Maybe that's why she found it so funny that her sister thought she needed friends. She was able to find friends in other places; she found friends in simple and elegant dance moves, she found friends in the stoic and unchanging pieces of a chess board, and she found friends in the quiet of the night.
She was about to ask Harun what it was like to suddenly leave his home, what it was like to come here, but her superego yelled at her that it was a rude thing to ask, and before she could debate with herself whether or not this was true, she noticed that he had begun talking again, and was fishing an iPod out of his bag.
Wait. Had he just said that something about most of his songs being in German? She didn't know German! She glanced at his song list and realized with growing dread that she knew none of the songs on the list. She smiled, hoping her nervousness wasn't ebbing through.
He mentioned something about disturbing lyrics? Well, then maybe it was good that she couldn't understand them. Unless...he knew she didn't speak German, or Turkish. So, he wasn't expecting her to know any of this. What was he planing to do?
Instead of asking, Rena decided to wait for him to pick a song, and when he stopped scrolling she waited for him to press play, banishing the philosophical ponderings of three minutes ago to the back of her head, and instead bracing herself for whatever noise was going to come screeching out of the box-like object he held in his hand.
Well, next to that, Rena couldn't help but feel slightly pathetic.
Of course, it didn't matter that she didn't really know French that well. She was honestly more worried that he spoke French, and would then start a conversation in French. She pondered the fact that he had grown up in Germany, and wondered what that had been like. Rena herself had never really felt the desire to travel the world, but she took the minute or so that he was finishing his Spanish homework in and pondered what it would be like to wake up every morning in a different country.
She had once asked her brother Jake if they had French fries in France, which he had laughed at. He never had given her an answer, come to think of it, but that was besides the point. She wondered silently what it would be like if they didn't have French Fries. Sure, they weren't her favorite food, but they were something she was accustomed too; they were always on the side of a sandwich, always served with hot dogs, and always topped with cheese for baseball games.
She wondered what would be more difficult; moving to America or moving from America. She thought that it really depended on what you knew. She supposed that, maybe, if you knew the language they spoke in the new country, it wouldn't matter. It'd be easy moving to England or America if you spoke English, or moving to Germany if you knew German. But either way you were still uprooting your home, moving away from everything that made you comfortable, everyone who you cared for (save maybe for family), into an entirely new place.
Rena never truly feared being alone. It was simply something she was used to. She spent most of her time alone. She was alone in class, alone at home, alone at morning, noon and night. It didn't bother her at all. But she supposed it bothered some people. It hurt some people to be alone, those who weren't used to it, those who didn't understand that loneliness wasn't a bad thing, rather it was just a hurdle to overcome, like bad acne, or a cold. It never lasted for too long, and if it did, you just got used to it.
A deep, quiet part of her mind wondered if that was the reason she had never really talked to Harun before today. Maybe she was just used to being alone, so used to it that became as common as brushing her teeth. The thought never occurred to her to not brush her teeth, and the thought of enjoying talking to someone hadn't ever either. Maybe that's why she found it so funny that her sister thought she needed friends. She was able to find friends in other places; she found friends in simple and elegant dance moves, she found friends in the stoic and unchanging pieces of a chess board, and she found friends in the quiet of the night.
She was about to ask Harun what it was like to suddenly leave his home, what it was like to come here, but her superego yelled at her that it was a rude thing to ask, and before she could debate with herself whether or not this was true, she noticed that he had begun talking again, and was fishing an iPod out of his bag.
Wait. Had he just said that something about most of his songs being in German? She didn't know German! She glanced at his song list and realized with growing dread that she knew none of the songs on the list. She smiled, hoping her nervousness wasn't ebbing through.
He mentioned something about disturbing lyrics? Well, then maybe it was good that she couldn't understand them. Unless...he knew she didn't speak German, or Turkish. So, he wasn't expecting her to know any of this. What was he planing to do?
Instead of asking, Rena decided to wait for him to pick a song, and when he stopped scrolling she waited for him to press play, banishing the philosophical ponderings of three minutes ago to the back of her head, and instead bracing herself for whatever noise was going to come screeching out of the box-like object he held in his hand.
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General Goose
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As Harun finished off his Spanish and took out his iPod, he briefly glanced at Rena and noticed her patiently waiting, silent, probably deep in thought as she watched him mess about with his iPod. He wanted to ask her what she was thinking about, and if he could help, but he guessed he could do that later. He didn't want to come across as nosy, randomly asking her for her thoughts. At a couple of moments, Harun thought she was going to ask him a question, but he was probably imagining it.
As he picked Zwitter, randomly, from his quite extensive song list, he saw her briefly look at his iPod. She obviously knew none of the songs on the list. He wasn't surprised; the music he listened to wasn't exactly popular amongst most of his peers. Many of the guys he showed it to dismissed it as plain shouting or Nazi music (because it was German. Yep, way to be racist), despite Ohne Dich (and countless others) and Links 2 3 4 respectively proving both of those accusations wrong. Hopefully, Rena would be a bit more open-minded in terms of music.
As he started Zwitter, he leaned back in his library chair and told her "If you don't like it, just tell me and we can give another song a try if you want." Briefly checking that the volume wasn't too loud and Mrs. Collins hadn't returned to her position lording over the library (she hadn't), he pressed the Play button.
As he picked Zwitter, randomly, from his quite extensive song list, he saw her briefly look at his iPod. She obviously knew none of the songs on the list. He wasn't surprised; the music he listened to wasn't exactly popular amongst most of his peers. Many of the guys he showed it to dismissed it as plain shouting or Nazi music (because it was German. Yep, way to be racist), despite Ohne Dich (and countless others) and Links 2 3 4 respectively proving both of those accusations wrong. Hopefully, Rena would be a bit more open-minded in terms of music.
As he started Zwitter, he leaned back in his library chair and told her "If you don't like it, just tell me and we can give another song a try if you want." Briefly checking that the volume wasn't too loud and Mrs. Collins hadn't returned to her position lording over the library (she hadn't), he pressed the Play button.
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Casey the Undead†
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When the song started playing, Rena was rather surprised to discover that she didn't hate it. In fact, she rather liked it. It was like the heavy metal that her brothers listened too.
When the lyrics started, she was stunned by how utterly frightening the singer sounded. He sounded angry and viscous, and for a second she was reminded of the villains in those superhero movies. She bit down on her tongue to avoid bursting into laughter at this thought.
Rena could not begin to fathom what the song was about however. Zwitter? Wasn't that the website that all the celebrities were on? Who would ever want to write a song about that? Especially a heavy metal song?
As the song continued, she began to nod her head to the beat. It was rather catchy, even if she knew that she would never remember any of the words. The only one she caught was Zwitter. The rest sounded like things a two year old said when he had baby food in his mouth. Not that she would ever tell Harun that.
When the song ended, Rena paused before saying anything. Taking a moment to think about what she just heard, she smiled. "That was good!" She took another brief pause, wondering for a moment if it would be stupid to ask what the heck the singer was saying. "What's it about? It sounded...a little scary to be honest."
A thought occurred to her that maybe the lyrics were graphically violent. She hadn't thought about that. What if she didn't really want to know the lyrics? But the question had already been asked. She silently braced herself for the answer, praying that there wasn't too much blood in it.
God, why didn't she ever think of these things before she opened her big fat mouth?
When the lyrics started, she was stunned by how utterly frightening the singer sounded. He sounded angry and viscous, and for a second she was reminded of the villains in those superhero movies. She bit down on her tongue to avoid bursting into laughter at this thought.
Rena could not begin to fathom what the song was about however. Zwitter? Wasn't that the website that all the celebrities were on? Who would ever want to write a song about that? Especially a heavy metal song?
As the song continued, she began to nod her head to the beat. It was rather catchy, even if she knew that she would never remember any of the words. The only one she caught was Zwitter. The rest sounded like things a two year old said when he had baby food in his mouth. Not that she would ever tell Harun that.
When the song ended, Rena paused before saying anything. Taking a moment to think about what she just heard, she smiled. "That was good!" She took another brief pause, wondering for a moment if it would be stupid to ask what the heck the singer was saying. "What's it about? It sounded...a little scary to be honest."
A thought occurred to her that maybe the lyrics were graphically violent. She hadn't thought about that. What if she didn't really want to know the lyrics? But the question had already been asked. She silently braced herself for the answer, praying that there wasn't too much blood in it.
God, why didn't she ever think of these things before she opened her big fat mouth?
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General Goose
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Harun was quite bemused by Rena's reaction, but also surprised and relieved. It appeared she quite liked it, so that was one potential awkward situation out of the way, but she was obviously taken aback by the singing. Which is understandable, most people weren't used to singing like Till Lindemann's singing. He'd grown up with music like this, so he was obviously used to it, and couldn't stand the music most of his peers turned to, with few exceptions outside rock and metal.
"That was good!" she said, after a brief pause, confirming Harun's suspicions on what she thought about the song. Harun nodded, and was about to reply to break the silence, but then Rena asked what the song was about. Harun paused, pondering the best way to answer the question without freaking Rena out too much. Deciding that the passage of time wouldn't help matters, he said matter-of-factly "Zwitter means hemaphrodite. They sing about some pretty messed up things in a few of their songs. Quite funny really." Chuckling slightly and scratching the side of his nose, he then hastily added "But some of their songs are a lot more gentle. We could quickly listen to one of them if you like?"
Fumbling with his iPod, Harun showed Rena the names of two more songs. Ohne Dich and Nebel. Yeah, they'll do, Harun thought. "Pick one of them if you want....or we could talk about something else. Your choice really."
"That was good!" she said, after a brief pause, confirming Harun's suspicions on what she thought about the song. Harun nodded, and was about to reply to break the silence, but then Rena asked what the song was about. Harun paused, pondering the best way to answer the question without freaking Rena out too much. Deciding that the passage of time wouldn't help matters, he said matter-of-factly "Zwitter means hemaphrodite. They sing about some pretty messed up things in a few of their songs. Quite funny really." Chuckling slightly and scratching the side of his nose, he then hastily added "But some of their songs are a lot more gentle. We could quickly listen to one of them if you like?"
Fumbling with his iPod, Harun showed Rena the names of two more songs. Ohne Dich and Nebel. Yeah, they'll do, Harun thought. "Pick one of them if you want....or we could talk about something else. Your choice really."
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Casey the Undead†
- Posts: 132
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Herma...hermap...
Hermaphrodites?
Rena wondered if her jaw was hanging open, because she could no longer feel anything in her body working, and could only guess what her face must have looked like. Who writes songs about hermaphrodites?
Although, considering her options, Rena supposed it could have been worse. It wasn't like she had a crippling fear of hermaphrodites on top of her squeamishness. Yes, it could have been worse. She could have passed out, for instance.
Harun was laughing lightly about the song. Did he find it funny? She couldn't imagine what he found funny. Unless...
Oh God. Was Harun a hermaphrodite?
Rena had to use all of her willpower to not physically smack herself on the forehead for suggesting that. What a ridiculous notion! Of course Harun isn't a hermaphrodite! Not that there's something wrong with that or anything!
It took Rena a second to realize that she didn't need to be politically correct in her own head.
"But some of there songs are much more gentle!" Rena felt slightly relaxed at this. Although what exactly was more gentle than a hermaphrodite she wasn't sure of. Maybe just regular old gay people?
She glanced down at the songs he was showing her. They did both sound gentler, but then again she had been completely wrong with what Zwitter was about, so maybe she wasn't the best judge.
Ohne Dich or Nebel.
For the first time in her life, Rena wished for nothing more than the ability to speak German.
"Erm...I guess...Nebel?" She was being cautious.
Then again, she supposed that nothing could be quite at bizarre as a song about Hermaphrodites.
Hermaphrodites?
Rena wondered if her jaw was hanging open, because she could no longer feel anything in her body working, and could only guess what her face must have looked like. Who writes songs about hermaphrodites?
Although, considering her options, Rena supposed it could have been worse. It wasn't like she had a crippling fear of hermaphrodites on top of her squeamishness. Yes, it could have been worse. She could have passed out, for instance.
Harun was laughing lightly about the song. Did he find it funny? She couldn't imagine what he found funny. Unless...
Oh God. Was Harun a hermaphrodite?
Rena had to use all of her willpower to not physically smack herself on the forehead for suggesting that. What a ridiculous notion! Of course Harun isn't a hermaphrodite! Not that there's something wrong with that or anything!
It took Rena a second to realize that she didn't need to be politically correct in her own head.
"But some of there songs are much more gentle!" Rena felt slightly relaxed at this. Although what exactly was more gentle than a hermaphrodite she wasn't sure of. Maybe just regular old gay people?
She glanced down at the songs he was showing her. They did both sound gentler, but then again she had been completely wrong with what Zwitter was about, so maybe she wasn't the best judge.
Ohne Dich or Nebel.
For the first time in her life, Rena wished for nothing more than the ability to speak German.
"Erm...I guess...Nebel?" She was being cautious.
Then again, she supposed that nothing could be quite at bizarre as a song about Hermaphrodites.
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General Goose
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Harun was not surprised that Rena appeared rather shocked, and maybe even a wee bit offended, by the subject of Zwitter. Well, that's Spiel Mit Mir out of the question, Harun thought, chuckling quietly to himself. Still, she weren't storming away in disgust and calling him a gay Nazi idiot (as one arsehole had memorably called him in the past, made worse by the fact Nazis persecuted gays, making such a combination rather unusual and contradictory. Though to be fair, Ernst Rohm was gay, but he was more of an exception....wait, he was giving himself an internal monologue about something irrelevant again. He hated that habit of his. Stay focused, Harun!), so that's a good thing.
"Yeah, some of their songs are about pretty messed up subjects. Some of them are less...extreme, but meh. I guess they just sing about whatever the hell comes to mind." Harun shrugged it off, adding "But, their music is good, and that's all what matters really."
Harun, his eyes having briefly surveyed the surroundings on occasion when the song was playing, had seen a couple of his fellow students listen in on the music. Most had ignored it or had their ears focused on other things, but those who had heard it didn't seem to think highly of it, and probably thought it was disgusting and weird as well if they'd heard Harun's definition.
That's the beautiful thing about music. Everyone likes something different.
To his question, Rena replied Nebel. Complying with her request, he pressed the Play button, and lent back in the chair, his eyes quickly glancing at the door to check if Mrs. Collins had returned. She hadn't.
"Kay. Here goes. Nebel means mist, by the way."
"Yeah, some of their songs are about pretty messed up subjects. Some of them are less...extreme, but meh. I guess they just sing about whatever the hell comes to mind." Harun shrugged it off, adding "But, their music is good, and that's all what matters really."
Harun, his eyes having briefly surveyed the surroundings on occasion when the song was playing, had seen a couple of his fellow students listen in on the music. Most had ignored it or had their ears focused on other things, but those who had heard it didn't seem to think highly of it, and probably thought it was disgusting and weird as well if they'd heard Harun's definition.
That's the beautiful thing about music. Everyone likes something different.
To his question, Rena replied Nebel. Complying with her request, he pressed the Play button, and lent back in the chair, his eyes quickly glancing at the door to check if Mrs. Collins had returned. She hadn't.
"Kay. Here goes. Nebel means mist, by the way."
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Casey the Undead†
- Posts: 132
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Mist. Well, that sounded more calming.
Rena liked mist. It wasn't quite rain, but it certainly wasn't anything else. It just sort of floated in a way that was different from everything else. It was calming, and pretty, and she had always thought that it was a wonderful thing.
But she had never heard a German song about it, so she supposed her opinions could be changed at any moment.
When the song started, she was pleasantly surprised. She couldn't say that the singer's voice was any less gruff and harsh sounding, but with the wind effects and more mellow guitar parts, she could almost call the song pretty in a way.
Rena felt herself struck by the strange beauty in the song. For a language as harsh as German, Nebel had an elegant mystery to it, which made her want to plunge headfirst into the music. It was powerful, and she began to picture images of ballet dancers spinning to the music. She thought, to her own small amusement, that it could so easily fit into some elaborate elegant dance piece. It was beyond beautiful; it was strangely moving in a way she couldn't put her finger on.
The song ended much too quickly for Rena's tastes, and she found herself utterly speechless. Nothing she could say would have mattered; it all seemed so insignificant compared to the music. Finally, after taking in every last chord of melody, she spoke.
"That was...wow. I mean, wow. It was beautiful. Really, really beautiful." She couldn't muster anything after that. Words wouldn't fit it. She had never felt so relaxed in her life, she realized. She was having an honest to God conversation with a person that hadn't completely been destroyed yet. She was listening to interesting music, learning new things.
For the first time in her entire life, Rena felt truly at peace.
Rena liked mist. It wasn't quite rain, but it certainly wasn't anything else. It just sort of floated in a way that was different from everything else. It was calming, and pretty, and she had always thought that it was a wonderful thing.
But she had never heard a German song about it, so she supposed her opinions could be changed at any moment.
When the song started, she was pleasantly surprised. She couldn't say that the singer's voice was any less gruff and harsh sounding, but with the wind effects and more mellow guitar parts, she could almost call the song pretty in a way.
Rena felt herself struck by the strange beauty in the song. For a language as harsh as German, Nebel had an elegant mystery to it, which made her want to plunge headfirst into the music. It was powerful, and she began to picture images of ballet dancers spinning to the music. She thought, to her own small amusement, that it could so easily fit into some elaborate elegant dance piece. It was beyond beautiful; it was strangely moving in a way she couldn't put her finger on.
The song ended much too quickly for Rena's tastes, and she found herself utterly speechless. Nothing she could say would have mattered; it all seemed so insignificant compared to the music. Finally, after taking in every last chord of melody, she spoke.
"That was...wow. I mean, wow. It was beautiful. Really, really beautiful." She couldn't muster anything after that. Words wouldn't fit it. She had never felt so relaxed in her life, she realized. She was having an honest to God conversation with a person that hadn't completely been destroyed yet. She was listening to interesting music, learning new things.
For the first time in her entire life, Rena felt truly at peace.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Casey the Undead. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.