Consensually Claimed Roomate
1st August
Nighttime
On the morning of 1st August, it was a 4.
4 was when he noted others show a variety of expressions for. It was when his voice would use it's vocal cords to the fullest. The time noise followed him wheever he went. When it meant Demo was feeling an emotion called 'giddy' or physically showing hyper activity.
And perhaps fortunately for Alphie - that wasn't the number that described Demo's feelings the first night they shared a room.
And on the night of 1st August, it was a 5.
5 was quiet. 5 was blank staring if asked questions. 5 was giving his roommate space as if he hadn't tackled him just a few hours ago.
5 was retiring early, only to wake up at 2:46am - sit at the edge of his bed, feet dangling off - with a silent content stare at 2167-C's Alphie sleeping silhouette.
This was what he saved his energy for earlier after all. The rare burst of random intensity he couldn't yet quite quell. Despite the silence, so many things flooded his mind. Like the tickling jab in his chest (which he thinks if 'excitement') at the new experience of a shared room. Or how to dissect 2167's mind with the time limit given. Or even the mystery on why 2167-C becomes .. something else sometimes. All these thoughts, and no room in Demo's brain to register it was now 3am.
Demo wasn't quite sure what made him choose this one out of the many turtles in the room. Not yet at least. But one thing about him is that once something had claimed his attention in any capacity, it would be watched. The 'it' was was Alphie Owen. But who has time to remember a difficult thing like that when Demo had identified the boy as 2167-C? So much more easier to stick to his brain.
@Alphie Owen
Hanako Tone | Sara Kohana | Kotoka Sako
Consensually Claimed Roomate
Alfie was not having a good night.
He'd had high hopes for wizard camp. He had hoped his cabin mates would be interesting people. He had hoped he could make a good impression on them. He had hoped to be well liked and sought after.
He hadn't expected what he got. He hadn't expected to make so much of an impression that he would be claimed and practically dragged off by the most 'interesting' housemate of all.
It was not ideal. When you are trying to remake yourself as one of the 'cool' kids, the last thing you want is to be grouped together with the kid that even the other weird kids think is peculiar.
That was what Alfie got though. Alfie had been claimed by the "not deceased" but quite possibly diseased boy whose name Alfie still didn't know.
Alfie had tried to make the best of it. He was disappointed, but not intentionally rude or hurtful. He thought perhaps he could salvage things. Make nice. Show interest. Perhaps impress his other housemates with how caring he could be toward the poor unfortunate boy (if that was what he was-- Alfie still didn't know if the boy was afflicted in some way or just 'special').
Alfie's kindness had fallen on deaf ears. Or at least a mute tongue. What he got was a lot of staring and long awkward silences. Eventually, Alfie tried to busy himself with his journal hoping the boy would get bored and find something else to stare at. No such luck.
They had retired early, but Alfie couldn't sleep. Even in the dark, he suspected that the boy might still be staring. Eventually, the excitement of the day and Alfie's lack of sleep the previous day had gotten the better of him and he had dozed off, though he slept fitfully. Alfie lost track of how many times he had woken up and stared into the dark, wondering if those other eyes were staring back at him. Eventually he achieved REM sleep for long enough to dream that he was at wizard school, and required to deliver a speech on the meaning of 'consensual' despite having forgotten to wear anything except his knickers. It wasn't going well.
Thankfully, Alfie woke up. Unfortunately, it was one of those unpleasant awakenings where your whole body jerks and you have the impression that you may have cried out or made a weird snorty sound.
Alfie groaned. He suppressed a cough. He cleared his throat quietly. He rubbed his eyes. He rolled over and tried to find a more comfortable position. He stared into the darkness. He blinked. He blinked again.
Alfie's roommate was watching him.
Well, Alfie couldn't be sure he was actually watching since he couldn't see his face, but the boy was sitting on his bed facing Alfie's bed. He wasn't moving. He was just sitting there.
"Diawch, be' rŵan?"1 Alfie sighed, barely audible. He did not expect a response.
After a pause, he cleared his throat, and attempted once more to acheive communication.
"A'right there, mate?"
A pause.
"If you're feeling poorly, I could get help maybe?"
Alfie didn't know if this camp had anything like a school nurse, but wandering about looking for one might be preferable to being stared at all night.
--------------------------------
He'd had high hopes for wizard camp. He had hoped his cabin mates would be interesting people. He had hoped he could make a good impression on them. He had hoped to be well liked and sought after.
He hadn't expected what he got. He hadn't expected to make so much of an impression that he would be claimed and practically dragged off by the most 'interesting' housemate of all.
It was not ideal. When you are trying to remake yourself as one of the 'cool' kids, the last thing you want is to be grouped together with the kid that even the other weird kids think is peculiar.
That was what Alfie got though. Alfie had been claimed by the "not deceased" but quite possibly diseased boy whose name Alfie still didn't know.
Alfie had tried to make the best of it. He was disappointed, but not intentionally rude or hurtful. He thought perhaps he could salvage things. Make nice. Show interest. Perhaps impress his other housemates with how caring he could be toward the poor unfortunate boy (if that was what he was-- Alfie still didn't know if the boy was afflicted in some way or just 'special').
Alfie's kindness had fallen on deaf ears. Or at least a mute tongue. What he got was a lot of staring and long awkward silences. Eventually, Alfie tried to busy himself with his journal hoping the boy would get bored and find something else to stare at. No such luck.
They had retired early, but Alfie couldn't sleep. Even in the dark, he suspected that the boy might still be staring. Eventually, the excitement of the day and Alfie's lack of sleep the previous day had gotten the better of him and he had dozed off, though he slept fitfully. Alfie lost track of how many times he had woken up and stared into the dark, wondering if those other eyes were staring back at him. Eventually he achieved REM sleep for long enough to dream that he was at wizard school, and required to deliver a speech on the meaning of 'consensual' despite having forgotten to wear anything except his knickers. It wasn't going well.
Thankfully, Alfie woke up. Unfortunately, it was one of those unpleasant awakenings where your whole body jerks and you have the impression that you may have cried out or made a weird snorty sound.
Alfie groaned. He suppressed a cough. He cleared his throat quietly. He rubbed his eyes. He rolled over and tried to find a more comfortable position. He stared into the darkness. He blinked. He blinked again.
Alfie's roommate was watching him.
Well, Alfie couldn't be sure he was actually watching since he couldn't see his face, but the boy was sitting on his bed facing Alfie's bed. He wasn't moving. He was just sitting there.
"Diawch, be' rŵan?"1 Alfie sighed, barely audible. He did not expect a response.
After a pause, he cleared his throat, and attempted once more to acheive communication.
"A'right there, mate?"
A pause.
"If you're feeling poorly, I could get help maybe?"
Alfie didn't know if this camp had anything like a school nurse, but wandering about looking for one might be preferable to being stared at all night.
--------------------------------
Welsh Glossary:
Reducio
1Diawch, be' rŵan? colloq. N. Welsh excl.xxxxx(DEE-owkh, beh ROO-an?) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Literally "Devil, what now?"
English equivalent: "Hell. Now what?" "Damn. Now what?"
Used colloquially in daily speech across North Wales when a fresh annoyance, mishap, or obstacle arises. It functions as a mild-to-moderate oath of frustration, exasperation, dismay, or resignation. Considered lighter than invoking full damnation (uffern) but punchier than standard polite surprise.
Consensually Claimed Roomate
1st August
Nighttime
As this wasn't a sneak attack, Demo didn't notice any particular feelings that associated with failure. If anything he looked more excited at the more evident sign of consciousness from the other. The unknown welsh, as opposed to unnerving Demo - only made him lightly clap, in a voice that implied he was grinning in the dark.
" Dwam Binkt ... uhhhh Ribbi! "(Damn, Think - Remember).
People hardly ever spoke to him in a different language. Demo associated 2167 C's [Alphie] sudden language switch, like one would show a new craftsmanship to him. Like a lego build 2167-C was more familiar with. It was only natural that Demo responded back! Granted, his Simlish wasn't perfect. Demo didn't expect a reply back, really. But he wouldn't be opposed to more verbal blubbering being tosses back and forth! It didn't occur to him that he could've just ask what 2167-C meant. Just didn't seem interesting enough to ask.
2167-C asked if he was alright, which was met with confusion and a light tilt of his hair. The hair tie he wore earlier to keep his hair up was now set aside, allowing his shoulder length hair to sway along the tilt. " I am clearly breathing" he took a loud inhale and exhale to further demonstrate, before putting his palms against his ears - listening. " My heartbeat is normal", his hands were put down back on his lap. " Yes! Alright-ness achieved." With a pause, " And you?". At the back of his head he hoped, the other said no.
" Poor?". Blinks. " Poor in what way? What help can you offer to remedy poorness?" The tone itself was blunt, and could be mistaken as a challenge. A doubt that 2167-C can even offer anything.
@Alphie Owen
Hanako Tone | Sara Kohana | Kotoka Sako
Consensually Claimed Roomate
Had Alfie understood that his roommate equated Cymraeg1, the language of Heaven, with Simlish, he would have been deeply offended. However, all Alfie gathered from his roommate's first utterance was that the poor boy might actually be sick in the head as the snarky girl had suggested.
Alfie had once watched a documentary on the telly about dementia and brain injuries, and some of those folks spouted gibberish too when they tried to talk. What if someone had bashed the boy on the head shortly before his arrival and given him a brain injury? How mortifying would it be if it turned out he'd been sneering at a head-damaged boy? Fortunately, the next utterance Alfie heard was recognizable as language and even made sense in a twisted kind of way.
"Oh aye, right as rain," he responded when the question of 'alright-ness' was directed toward himself. "I wouldn't say no to a bit more sleep, though."
He frowned into the darkness when his roommate spoke again, not understanding how 'being poor' factored into anything. After a beat, Alfie remembered the exact wording of his previous question.
"Oh! 'feeling poorly'! I asked if you were 'feeling poorly', not if you were poor. That's just something people say, isn't it? It means unwell. I wondered if you weren't feeling well since you were awake in the middle of the night."
Alfie sighed. He questioned his own 'alright-ness' to be awake and having such an absurd conversation in the middle of the night. "Well, I'm glad you are alright," he said finally, hoping they could at least lay that topic to bed.
"Um. So, you weren't feeling talkative before when I introduced myself, but if we are going to share a room for a whole month, it might be nice if I knew your name." Alfie paused, feeling more than a little stupid. He had no idea how much the other boy understood of what he was saying, but thought he had no choice but to go through the motions and hope for the best. Hopefully something would get through eventually.
"My name is Alfie Owen," he said speaking as if he were talking to a small child. "Do you remember my saying that before? AL-fee? Would you like to tell me your name now?"
⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒
Alfie had once watched a documentary on the telly about dementia and brain injuries, and some of those folks spouted gibberish too when they tried to talk. What if someone had bashed the boy on the head shortly before his arrival and given him a brain injury? How mortifying would it be if it turned out he'd been sneering at a head-damaged boy? Fortunately, the next utterance Alfie heard was recognizable as language and even made sense in a twisted kind of way.
"Oh aye, right as rain," he responded when the question of 'alright-ness' was directed toward himself. "I wouldn't say no to a bit more sleep, though."
He frowned into the darkness when his roommate spoke again, not understanding how 'being poor' factored into anything. After a beat, Alfie remembered the exact wording of his previous question.
"Oh! 'feeling poorly'! I asked if you were 'feeling poorly', not if you were poor. That's just something people say, isn't it? It means unwell. I wondered if you weren't feeling well since you were awake in the middle of the night."
Alfie sighed. He questioned his own 'alright-ness' to be awake and having such an absurd conversation in the middle of the night. "Well, I'm glad you are alright," he said finally, hoping they could at least lay that topic to bed.
"Um. So, you weren't feeling talkative before when I introduced myself, but if we are going to share a room for a whole month, it might be nice if I knew your name." Alfie paused, feeling more than a little stupid. He had no idea how much the other boy understood of what he was saying, but thought he had no choice but to go through the motions and hope for the best. Hopefully something would get through eventually.
"My name is Alfie Owen," he said speaking as if he were talking to a small child. "Do you remember my saying that before? AL-fee? Would you like to tell me your name now?"
⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒
@Josephine ByrneWelsh Glossary:
Reducio
1Cymraeg Welsh prop.n.xxxxx(KUM-rye-g) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Welsh. What the people of Wales call their own language.
Consensually Claimed Roomate
1st August
Nighttime
Shown on his face, Demo was rather disappointed that the (frankly confusing) language barrier came to an abrupt end. It was only then that Demo realised he should've asked what 2167-C (Alphie) meant by Diawceh be ruwan. Humans loved answering questions about what they knew- didn't they? He didn't fully get it, but even if he wished he wanted it for 1 second, another second passed and Demo's focus was already directed to 2167-C's (Alphie's) next words.
Right as rain. He never understood why rain was right. Thankfully he knew the idiom when it was there. Bless the tutors who had to be subjected to his prior 'outburst' regarding why rain was ever right. They called it an outburst, he called it questioning what he didn't get. " Do you?" states, mildly- " Sleep then, I wouldn't mind," -staring at you longer with you unconscious is preferable anyway- is the silent words that were not said.
At the 'filling poor, not actually poor' comment, Demo did laugh - dryly, awkwardly - like he was learning to laugh based on the intangible dance happening in his chest. Like a joke his mind knew, but body failed to align with. " I'm kidding. I knew what you meant", his tone felt a touch lighter than earlier. " Poor like.. 5, often Poor, 4 sometimes poor, 3 neutral, 2 sometimes good, 1 is excellent... or switch switch switch- right?" he moves his two index fingers like tapping a tablet that switched the rating scale.
"Ah" hands held up
"Embee embee embee" (MB=my bad). " I was saving my spoons. But I got tons now! Ask again. I just get to ask back" with his hands now back on his lap, he tilts his head again. " Deal?". Though a question, this tone framed it as if he already had his answer.
He had chosen not to answer Alphie or whatever restating his name. Why bother. He was going to likely forget. So he has to do everything now. At the mention of his own name, he frowns as if it was a good waste of a good question or a stupid suggestion. " Maybe, if it held any purpose" he decides to answer it as a question instead of a suggestion. " Whats the purpose of names if we're gonna stop talking to each other once camp ends? ".
" I remember the name... Alfie......, I think" he decided to say, lacking the sourness he identified in his chest. " You know what name that suits you better?"
@Alphie Owen
Hanako Tone | Sara Kohana | Kotoka Sako
Consensually Claimed Roomate
He spoke. More importantly, he had said a full sentence of words Alfie could understand and that made sense in context to what had come before. They might finally have achieved something resembling a conversation. Alfie took back his previous assumptions about the boy being head damaged.
Nope. Wishful thinking, Alfie decided, as the roommate let out one of the most disturbing laughs Alfie had ever heard. At least, Alfie assumed it was a laugh, because he could think of no better explanation. Now the headcase was randomly counting and talking about spoons. Alfie was lost, but he did catch the word 'deal' before a pause.
"Deal?" Alfie repeated, wondering exactly what the boy thought was a deal.
This was followed by a brief moment of clarity. "You don't want to tell me your name because you think we'll never speak again after camp? What makes you think that?" Granted, Alfie hadn't anticipated ever needing to interact with the strange boy after camp was over. Had he not been thrown into this roommate arrangement, he would have avoided the peculiar boy in favor of someone whose friendship was more likely to be beneficial. Alfie's social intelligence was developed enough to know it wouldn't be wise to advertise that fact.
"I don't know why we wouldn't talk to each other beyond camp. You're going to Hogwarts aren't you? We're probably going to see each other for the next seven years." Alfie was only stating what he assumed to be an obvious fact, though as soon as he said it, he regretted it. The last thing he needed was a seven-year association with a weirdo.
He was about to attempt some sort of backtracking, when the boy surprised him by repeating Alfie's name. This was followed immediately by an unwelcome question. He wasn't about to be given a nickname, was he? At his last school Alfie had been unable to shake the name "Toenails" because of his habit of currying favor with their teachers. Some wit had once said Alfie had his head so far up the teacher's bum that they could only see his toenails and after that the name just stuck. Children could be so cruel.
"No," Alfie sighed. "What name do you think suits me better?"
Nope. Wishful thinking, Alfie decided, as the roommate let out one of the most disturbing laughs Alfie had ever heard. At least, Alfie assumed it was a laugh, because he could think of no better explanation. Now the headcase was randomly counting and talking about spoons. Alfie was lost, but he did catch the word 'deal' before a pause.
"Deal?" Alfie repeated, wondering exactly what the boy thought was a deal.
This was followed by a brief moment of clarity. "You don't want to tell me your name because you think we'll never speak again after camp? What makes you think that?" Granted, Alfie hadn't anticipated ever needing to interact with the strange boy after camp was over. Had he not been thrown into this roommate arrangement, he would have avoided the peculiar boy in favor of someone whose friendship was more likely to be beneficial. Alfie's social intelligence was developed enough to know it wouldn't be wise to advertise that fact.
"I don't know why we wouldn't talk to each other beyond camp. You're going to Hogwarts aren't you? We're probably going to see each other for the next seven years." Alfie was only stating what he assumed to be an obvious fact, though as soon as he said it, he regretted it. The last thing he needed was a seven-year association with a weirdo.
He was about to attempt some sort of backtracking, when the boy surprised him by repeating Alfie's name. This was followed immediately by an unwelcome question. He wasn't about to be given a nickname, was he? At his last school Alfie had been unable to shake the name "Toenails" because of his habit of currying favor with their teachers. Some wit had once said Alfie had his head so far up the teacher's bum that they could only see his toenails and after that the name just stuck. Children could be so cruel.
"No," Alfie sighed. "What name do you think suits me better?"
Consensually Claimed Roomate
1st August
Nighttime
The other boy's confusion was lost on Demo- as most things were. The dark certainly didn't help. He had not considered the dark as distracting enough that 2167-C (Alfie) wouldn't be able to see his certain and enthusiastic nod at the mention of deals. " You answered and asked a question, so you are binded now. No take back-sies, yep yep yep". Although he explained this, the please 'yep's may have indicated this was more like Demo being over the moon about the conclusion he drew entirely on his own.
If only the dark hadn't concealed his furrowed brows, the other boy might've been able to gather more information on what was stirring in the auburn haired boy. At least more than the bland toned response he gave. " Yes, why would I waste my time and yours?" his body begun to sway side-ways, like a pendulum. " The organ in our heads... as much as people wonder how capable it is.. can only be filled up with so much. I rather fill it up with things useful to me. Don't you?".
He halts his rocking, his voice slow. " 'Diseased in the brain, maybe...'". He repeats 630-C's (Jo's) muttered, though added no additional explanation to it. As if briefing a passing memory, like dipping a hand in running water for a second. " Am I wrong? Hundreds of first years arriving at the same time in Hogwarts, and you will seek me out? Even so, what are the chances in that? 5/10? 1/10?". Curious. " You can tell me. I can't be upset"
" 7 years, and it is okay dokes for you to just call me, 'hey' - if you REALLY need to". Through saying this, he sounded exasperated. Like offering a solution to a problem that didn't need to be fixed in the first place. " Do you want to call me by name that badly? Kay. Then give me something else I can remember you by. Or or or .... Hm.......". With a pause, he states what he wanted. " Let me sit on your bed". A fair trade is a fair trade. " Only for a bit. Until we're both ready to sleep. Which type of trade do you want?"
He sounded far more happy at the last question. "2167-C !" he presented, in a way one would expect Demo to pull up a confetti popper after he said it.
w/c:366
@Alphie Owen
Hanako Tone | Sara Kohana | Kotoka Sako
Consensually Claimed Roomate
Well, now he was talking. He was stringing together more words than all the previous things he had said combined. It was not so much a conversation as a delayed set of comments, rebuttals, and answers to Alfie's previous ones rambling out all at once before Alfie had a chance to respond. So without stopping time to insert Alfie's reactions, Alfie was forced to listen, trying desperately to follow each line of reasoning, and being unable to form replies before the unnamed boy moved on to his next thought, culminating in what Alfie could only conclude was the boy's big tada-moment. 2167-C
Alfie sputtered. "That's ridiculous!" he blurted out as soon as he could form words. "How on earth is that better than my actual name? It isn't even a name! Not to mention it's longer. Far more syllables. Two-One-Six-Sev-en-C is three times as long as AL-fee. Plus, it has to be harder to remember since it's just random numbers whereas Alfie is–” More or less just random syllables when you come down to it– “it’s at least a real name,” he finished rather more weakly.
He paused long enough to catch his breath but mindful that if he didn’t get back to the rest of it that he was likely to be interrupted again. He tried to think of what the ‘Win Friends’ guy would have said, forgetting of course the part where he said ‘Don't criticize, condemn, or complain’1 because Alfie was certainly going to do all that. "’A person's name is the sweetest and most important sound in any language to them2’," he quoted. "You don't just make things up! What if I was to call you Farty McFart-face, or Twpsyn3 Twmffat4, or–” he struggled to think of a third thing that was not anticlimactic but could only think of the fool from Ivanhoe. “--or Wamba?” That was a bit anticlimactic. He should have led with Wamba and ended with Farty McFart-face. “I reckon you wouldn’t like that very much.”
“And I’m sure the odds are higher than that. We are going to be in every class together, over and over again, so the chance I’ll need to call you something at some point is pretty good, I’d say. And I can’t just say 'Hey You', for everyone or nobody would know who I was talking to, or talking about. And anyway–”
“Brains don’t work like that. Brains can hold a virtually infinite amount of things. And even if they can't, you can always drop the bits you don’t use later in favor of the more important things you need to know at the time. Like, I don’t know, if you were gathering pebbles at a beach and putting them in your pocket. If your pocket gets full and then you see a really nice pebble, you can always remove some of the less interesting pebbles to make room. Right? I expect it’s the same with names. I don’t remember the name of every person I ever met, maybe–I probably threw out the names of people I haven’t seen since I was five–but I can jolly well remember the name of the person I’m currently talking to. ”
“And, um–” he was already forgetting whether the odd boy had said anything else he needed to be upset about, but then he remembered one more thing. “And why on earth would you want to sit on my bed?”
⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒
Alfie sputtered. "That's ridiculous!" he blurted out as soon as he could form words. "How on earth is that better than my actual name? It isn't even a name! Not to mention it's longer. Far more syllables. Two-One-Six-Sev-en-C is three times as long as AL-fee. Plus, it has to be harder to remember since it's just random numbers whereas Alfie is–” More or less just random syllables when you come down to it– “it’s at least a real name,” he finished rather more weakly.
He paused long enough to catch his breath but mindful that if he didn’t get back to the rest of it that he was likely to be interrupted again. He tried to think of what the ‘Win Friends’ guy would have said, forgetting of course the part where he said ‘Don't criticize, condemn, or complain’1 because Alfie was certainly going to do all that. "’A person's name is the sweetest and most important sound in any language to them2’," he quoted. "You don't just make things up! What if I was to call you Farty McFart-face, or Twpsyn3 Twmffat4, or–” he struggled to think of a third thing that was not anticlimactic but could only think of the fool from Ivanhoe. “--or Wamba?” That was a bit anticlimactic. He should have led with Wamba and ended with Farty McFart-face. “I reckon you wouldn’t like that very much.”
“And I’m sure the odds are higher than that. We are going to be in every class together, over and over again, so the chance I’ll need to call you something at some point is pretty good, I’d say. And I can’t just say 'Hey You', for everyone or nobody would know who I was talking to, or talking about. And anyway–”
“Brains don’t work like that. Brains can hold a virtually infinite amount of things. And even if they can't, you can always drop the bits you don’t use later in favor of the more important things you need to know at the time. Like, I don’t know, if you were gathering pebbles at a beach and putting them in your pocket. If your pocket gets full and then you see a really nice pebble, you can always remove some of the less interesting pebbles to make room. Right? I expect it’s the same with names. I don’t remember the name of every person I ever met, maybe–I probably threw out the names of people I haven’t seen since I was five–but I can jolly well remember the name of the person I’m currently talking to. ”
“And, um–” he was already forgetting whether the odd boy had said anything else he needed to be upset about, but then he remembered one more thing. “And why on earth would you want to sit on my bed?”
⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒
⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒Footnotes:
Reducio1“Any fool can criticize, complain, and condemn—and most fools do. But it takes character and self-control to be understanding and forgiving.”
― Dale Carnegie, How to Win Friends & Influence People
2“Remember that a person’s name is to that person the sweetest and most important sound in any language.”
― Dale Carnegie, How to Win Friends and Influence People
@Demo ChaturaWelsh Glossary:
Reducio
3twpsyn Welsh n.xxxxx(TOOP-sin) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx A silly person or a little fool. Light-hearted insult.
x x 4twmffat Welsh n.xxxxx(TOMB-fat) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx A lighthearted, classic Welsh term for a numbskull, goofball, or silly idiot.
Consensually Claimed Roomate
1st August
Nighttime
"That's ridiculous!"
" I know! " Says the soon-to-be-hufflepuff boy, in a tone that was the exact opposite of 2167-C's (Alfie's). It appears that he thought 'ridiculous' was a good thing. And it took bit of a while for him to understand that it was not the case. More focused on the fact that he figured 2167-C(Alfie) even let Demo get this far in the conversation without being stopped. I mean if he hated it, he would've been stopped right? Or... no - was that not the case?
To say Demo felt the familiar tugs of disappointment in his throat and chest was inaccurate. Perhaps if he had a mirror he could see his own expression to be sure. What he DID notice while he gave 2167-C the space to talk without interruption, was that he sort of... liked.. this? There was no sign that Demo's eyes were rolled or turned away. Shame how the dark could conceal so much, Demo might've been able to fully show that he was listening intently. No rocking back and forth, no hand gestures, just a simple, almost devoted stare as if 2167-C held Demo's attention authentically.
Even at the last question, Demo needed some time to recalibrate every statement made, explanation, and in which order he should give his reply and what was important enough to be prioritized above all else.
" Because I like you"
He confesses with the dramatics of a plain cardboard box. But what he lacked in finesse, he made up for in lack of hesitation. It was not a lie, nor an understatement. Like he had made up his mind a while ago, and was reminded why through recent events. " Also - never shared a room with someone else before. Except the hospital for a bit. So I'm curious."
Perhaps fortunately for Alfie- Demo decides to instead lay down on his own bed to stare up at the tent ceiling. It's comfortable to gather more of his thoughts this way in such a familiar position. His voice thought was just as clear as it was before.
" Satu, I don't see it honestly. So the only good thing about knowing my name is when you're talking about me to other people? Ehh.. Demo". He answers in a bored drawl. It seemed it was more boring for 2167-C (Alfie) to get him to tell Demo's name than it was to be told he was going to be talked behind his back.
" Dua, it's not hard to remember. Two 630-C's, 158-C, 535-C - those are some of our tentmates, aren't they? 158-C kept begging to help people and their bags, one of the 630-C's tried to help me with first-aid, the other was sassy. 535-C likes to lie and one of the 630-C's had a negative leaning expression to it. Thats only our tentmates. Aren't they?"
" Tiga, 2167-C is not random ". And that was the only explanation 2167-C would get for now.
" Empat, I Dee Cee" (IDC = IDC). " I don't care enough to know if I don't like being called Farty McFart-face, Tuipin, Tymfat, or Wamba - or worse name. In fact, if you'd like to call me that I don't mind" there wasn't a hint of mocking in his tone, as if saying he could be called worse and 2167-C (Alfie) had consent to doing just that.
" Lima, what kind of person says that? A person's name is the sweetest and most important sound in any language to them? They don't sound very smart" bluntly. " Sounds like someone who only talks to a specific type of person. So bold of them to assume that's the case for everyone. Even I know that's not true. I dont feel anything when my name's called." Among other things he doesn't feel much about.
"Enam..." his tone could be noticeably a touch lighter than his critique. Appreciative. " I like the thinggy you did. The pebble thing. That makes more sense to me. Sounds to me like we're saying similar things. Except... I never want to forget anyone. Not if I can help it. It just so happens that numbers.. are simpler to remember."
He decides to sit up. " You might find more interesting pebbles, and I may be one of the pebbles you toss aside for better ones. If that happens, I dont care. And for me, the pebble named Alfie. I don't want to toss that away, so I'll take a sharpie and write in big bold letters on the pebble, ' 2167-C '. I don't care if you're less interesting than another pebble, I'd still want to remember you. I just.... can't.. with .. just your..government name", his last words had a stranger tone to it, like it was a difficult thing to admit for Demo. With a pause, Demo asks " Does that still look like you're not important enough for me to remember?"
TranslationReducioSatu - One
Dua - Two
Tiga - Three
Empat - Four
Lima - Five
Enam - Six
@Alphie Owen
Hanako Tone | Sara Kohana | Kotoka Sako