The Problems with English ((Bridge))

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The Problems with English ((Bridge))

Post  Olivia Oberon on Sun Apr 17, 2011 8:01 pm

Olivia stared at the book in her hands, the words swimming around in front of her eyes. Anna dove, no, drove into the crystal cake. Wait a minute, cake? What in the name of Avalon is she doing in a crystal cake? Oh, wait. That says lake. Well, okay then. The water was as looking as a blue jewel and as the fish projectile objected past her surface-

Olivia snapped the book shut with a defiant snap, a sigh falling out of her lips. By the Elfking, did her head hurt. She closed her eyes and took a deep breathe, trying to calm her own frenzied mind. It wasn't her fault she couldn't read the books the teacher gave her. They were in English, after all. Though she could speak it well enough, Olivia chose not to read it. Well, not this 'new' English. Olde English was the language of the Sidhe, after all.

But all of this, these hyperbole and similes and metaphors... there was too much of it in this language, where no one said merely what they meant to say. Normally Olivia was all for a few riddles and an enigma or two, but this was far more difficult than it had to be.

Olivia felt the pout form on her face, and she hated herself for it. She didn't want to be that stupid pretty girl that everyone felt sorry for, because she couldn't even read her own lines... Another pitiful sigh fell from her mouth, and she gave up.

I'm going to have to ask for help. It was a sad fact, but also a true one. And, Olivia knew, it only got worse. She would have to ask for help from a mortal. Olivia pushed fiery red hair out of her eyes, and gazed around the room, silently checking out every student in the class.

Most of them seemed like they could do naught but obfuscate stupidity, and Olivia simply couldn't have that. A few others looked too smart, like they would laugh at her if she so much as mentioned the fact that she couldn't speak English. Olivia hated them already. It's never been a problem before! All my copies of Beowulf had the Olde English and Standard English translations! Olivia had never missed a book so much in her life.

But there was one... He seemed normal enough. Olivia approached the blonde carefully, as if he was a wild animal she was afraid to spook. "Excuse me. Do you suppose you could help me with this?" She hated the way her voice sounded, wheedling and cutesy.

She was going to burn this book when she was done with it.
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Re: The Problems with English ((Bridge))

Post  Bridge Scott on Mon Apr 18, 2011 12:48 am

Bridge sat, staring straight forward. His arms were straight out in front of him, his hands balled into fists. When the teacher had passed out the books, Bridge took one look at it, and set back down on the desk. It was something he had already read, and it really wasn’t worth his time. Bridge never really understood English. He understood quantum mathematics, but not English. The language itself was complex enough, full of rules that contradicted each other and themselves, and then English teachers had to go and make it even more complex. Somewhere behind him, a book snapped shut, and someone let out a sigh. Bridge never moved his body, but his brain began to work at a million miles an hour. Of all the sounds in the room for his pointed ears to pick up on, why those two? Bridge pushed the thought from his head, his body never moving. Bridge finally moved his eyes, looking down at his knuckles. They had gone white, the scars from the mirror at the subway station showing. Bridge relaxed his body, moving his bandaged arm in circles to get the blood flowing. He reached into his messenger bag, and pulled out an iPod.

Just as he was slipping the ear buds in his ears, he heard slight footsteps on the floor. "Excuse me. Do you suppose you could help me with this?" Bridge stopped moving. That voice. He knew a voice like that, from long, long ago. Slowly, he turned to the source of the voice. “Who are you?” he demanded softly, his milky white mask obstructing the right half of his face from the voice’s view. Moving his eyes up, he noticed it was a girl, with fiery red hair. “Who are you?” Bridge hissed again. That voice. “You’re different, aren’t you?” Bridge asked, the pieces falling into place. “You’re not like the rest of them.” He stood to his full, diminutive height of 5’0”. “It would be best if you were to turn around and go back to whatever it was you were doing. As you can see, I’m not the kind of person you want to associate yourself with,” Bridge rasped, gesturing to his half mask. That’s when the bell chose to rang, and the students began to flood into the halls. Bridge grabbed his bag, and was about to follow, but something made him stop. Maybe this girl could explain so many of the things in his life. Maybe she knew why those people back home called him “Changeling.” He motioned to a desk. “Sit.”
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Re: The Problems with English ((Bridge))

Post  Olivia Oberon on Sun Apr 24, 2011 12:43 am

Olivia wasn't quite sure what to do when the boy started talking. He talked fast, and somewhat randomly, talking about how she was diffrent than the rest of the class, how he wasn't someone she would want to be friends with... The bell rang before she could even get a word in, and the boy stood up, slinging his bag onto his shoulder. For a second, it looked like he was merely going to walk away, but then... Olivia wasn't really sure what to think of it, but he just started looking at her. Before she knew it, she was being ordered to sit down and listen.

Or so she thought. Truely, there was no telling what he wanted her to do after the whole sitting thing. She did so, albeit catiously, sliding into the desk gingerly. She looked rather pointedly at the seat in front of her. "Well? Aren't you going to join me?"

As she waited for him to sit, she stared at the top of the stained tabletop, wondering about what was about to happen.

First off, he was quite correct. She hadn't noticed the mask at first, and she definetly wouldn't have approached him him if she had. Not because it scared her, but because... well, she had been looking for someone normal to teach her English. Guys in Phantom of the Opera masks weren't exactly great tutors.

But somehow, she'd felt compelled to sit wih him. It was strange, she decided, how she kept getting roped into situations with people who were surprised that she was 'diffrent'. It was almost like they assumed she was mortal. She couldn't decide if she should be insulted or not.

So what would she tell him, when he asked? Should she be secretive about it, as Ivy had? Or should she just be blunt, as she had been before? It seemed most people in this school simply chose not to tell people who they were, even if it did define them as much as Olivia felt being Fae did. They seemed to want it to be secret, to blend into the crowd as if they were mere mortals, with no defining features at all.

The thought terrified Olivia.

There was one way she could be sure of how to act, Olivia realised. The boy wanted awnsers? Well, she'd match hers for his. If he wanted to be just another face in an endless sea of students, she could pretend she was just as satisfied with being dull. "So what's with the mask?" Olivia asked, flipping bright red hair over her shoulder.
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Re: The Problems with English ((Bridge))

Post  Bridge Scott on Mon Apr 25, 2011 2:42 am

"Well? Aren't you going to join me?" Bridge looked at her, a burning look in his eyes. “You never answered my question. Who are you?” Bridge said, avoiding the question on purpose. But it was true. The girl had never answered his question. Something about her seemed so familiar. What was it? Bridge wasn’t sure, but he was determined to find out. He began to pace. All his brain power, and he couldn’t figure out why this girl seemed so familiar. He could grill her, but he wasn’t in the mood for a ton of questions. He stopped his pacing, turning on the spot.

"So what's with the mask?" the girl asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Bridge sat down, looking her square in the eye. “This mask is a symbol of memories best left forgotten. But as it seems that I won’t be getting any answers until you get them, I might as well tell you. When I was young, I lived in a village governed by superstition. They claimed I was a changeling, a fae boy in place of a human one. So, as was part of the superstition, they hung me in a basket over a fire. I didn’t react the way they thought I would, I just hung there, over that roaring flame. The wind decided it would blow, and knocked me out of the basket, straight into the fire.” Bridge pulled off the mask. “There I lay. The kiss of the red hot fire was the most painful thing I have ever felt. This is what they created. A monster fueled by fear.” He fixed the mask back onto his face. Remembering that day made his skin burn with the heat of the flames. He started to unravel the bandage to let the cool air of the room wash over his charred skin.

“I’ve answered your questions, now you get to answer mine. Who are you?” Bridge demanded again. He wasn’t used to being the one who didn’t know things. Normally, he was the puppet master. He was the one who pulled the strings. He decided that he did not like being on the other end. Something struck him. “And what’s wrong with English, exactly? You seem to have no issues speaking it, why can’t you read it?”
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Re: The Problems with English ((Bridge))

Post  Olivia Oberon on Fri May 06, 2011 4:58 am

The boy didn't sit down. Instead, he merely glared at her, accusing her of avoiding his questions- well, duh, Mortal -and started pacing. Pacing. Olivia hated pacing. She hated the way it seemed to radiate nervousness with every step, and the way it went nowhere, and the way it made someone seem so musing, and so intelligent. It lied.

He didn't stay pacing for long. He stopped hard and turned, his clothes and hair whipping slightly around with him. He looked so... dramatic. She felt like giggling, only she was afraid he'd jump on her our something. Not that she couldn't take him, but she was rather enjoying skipping maths.

He began explaining the mask, and Olivia felt her stomach churn. Humans and their stupid prejudices, destroying anything that didn't fit into their annoying, perfect lives. He was... Crone, Mother and Maiden, he was a Changeling. He was one of her kind.

A part of her felt like standing up and enfolding him in her arms, whispering a mortal's spells to heal the heart. But... he seemed angry, like any small thing could send him over the deepened. Olivia was angry herself. The mortals of her village had long since learned that the Sidhe were not to be messed with, but Olivia had heard stories about horrible things being done to her people all through the Isles. And a child? A child of her people, a child of the Fae, burned in a basket?

She wanted to go on a rampage. She wanted to kill those who marred a Fae's fair face. She wanted to make the world safe for her people, finally. She wanted to avenge this boy in front of her of all the bad things that had ever happened to him.

She knew it could never happen.

He affixed the mask back on his face, and her blue eyes pricked with tears. [color=#F781BE] "Oh, brother..." She whispered, sorrow lurking in her eyes. "How could they do this to you?" He didn't answer. Instead, he seemed to anger again, pressing her for details. She would tell him. How could she deny him this?

"I'm 'Livia 'Beron. I mean..." Olivia rolled her eyes at her own bad timing. "Oh-livia Oh-beron. I..." Olivia averted her eyes from his piercing ones, and brushed some curly red hair out of her face. She'd never been so nervous to tell anyone what she truly was. "I am of the Fae. The Sidhe, Blood of Oberon. I..." She looked at him, curious. "Do you know what this means?"

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Re: The Problems with English ((Bridge))

Post  Bridge Scott on Sun May 22, 2011 6:42 pm

The girl’s blue eyes teared up. "Oh, brother..." She whispered, sorrow lurking in her eyes. "How could they do this to you?" Bridge didn’t answer. What he wanted was answers, not sympathy. "I'm 'Livia 'Beron. I mean..." The girl rolled her eyes. "Oh-livia Oh-beron. I..." She averted her eyes from Bridge’s piercing ones, and brushed some curly red hair out of her face. She'd never been so nervous to tell anyone what she truly was. "I am of the Fae. The Sidhe, Blood of Oberon. I..." She looked at him, curious. "Do you know what this means?"

Bridge shook his head, his eyes softening. “All I know is, you are descended from our king. And you want to know why they did this to me? One tale of changelings tells that to discover one, you hang it in a basket over an open flame. The changeling will then run to the nearest window to get away from the fire. However, this is normally done with infants, and I was a young child at the time, and also, I was suspended in town square, where there were no windows.” Bridge’s eyes began to tear up, the memories of that day flooding his mind.
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