Sync
Master
... I am NOT your father.
Posts: 697
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Post by Sync on Sept 14, 2010 13:50:05 GMT -6
 
The young male had his face pressed eagerly against the window of the cab. He gave little gasps of excitement as he noted something new. Having never traveled further than France, everything was pretty much new. Beside him in the cab sat Juliette, the beautiful Afghan hound and then on the other side of the canine was a translator. Yes, Erec did need one. The downfall of moving to America was the fact that Erec didn't know a word of English. “Sommes-nous encore là?” The question slipped from his mouth eagerly, barely touching the sides. He couldn't wait to start riding out on the beautiful trails blue ridge academy had to offer. “Près de” she replied, before throwing up some barriers to block out the curious male. It was obvious, to even him, that she didn't have the same excitement he possessed. But, as soon as she was done checking him in, she had to fly back to France, another job already waiting.
The vehicle pulled to a smooth halt outside the front door to the academy. The translator almost bolted from the car, trying to avoid anymore questions thrown her way. The boy chuckled quietly, letting himself out and then holding the door for Juliette. The female poised her narrow cranium upwards, her golden locks falling backward. She took a whiff of the fresh air and seemed to nod in approval. Erec just rolled his eyes. “Allons, le temps de vérifier dans.” he called to the highly strung Afghan hound, who trotted to his side and followed him to the office door. He paused briefly to pick up his bags and waved to the cabbie who smiled back. Erec had the sort of face you couldn't help but grin at, open and friendly also childlike in expression. The boy then turned to follow in the footsteps of the translator, who's name he still hadn't learnt, into the office.
As he stepped inside, he heard the woman start babbling to the receptionist in English. “Hello, I have a new student that I have been told to deliver into your care? Erec Aube. He came with two horses which were supposed to arrive yesterday. I know he should be saying this, but the think is, he has never spoken English in his life. Is there a student you could have show him around?” she asked the receptionist, and then looked over her shoulder to see her client sat on one of the plastic chairs. Erec smiled at her, and she offered a slight one back. The nicest reaction he had gotten from her all day. Erec looked around in fascination, studying every nook and cranny of the room. The room seemed slightly boring to him, yet he had an artist's mind. If things weren't bright and colorful, he wasn't really that interested. His eyes found their way back to the desk, he remained silent but had a smile upon his flawless face. Juliette snorted in distaste, and then began to drag the front of her lithe frame beneath the chair her master sat upon, her rump sticking out obviously.
outfit, Click?!
translations, 1. Are we there yet? 2. Nearly. 3. Come on, time to check in.
tagged, anyone who would like to use their character as Erec's tour guide
word count, five hundred and twenty
i love them, template @ + stockholm syndrome / lyrics @ the script *live like we’re dying
notes, “ meh, not the greatest... ”
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Post by houndish on Sept 14, 2010 19:35:19 GMT -6
Misty, Misty, Misty. She was a whack a doodle, and now she was just sleeping soundly in the room. Still, she had gotten stung today by a very large bee and the Benadryl was helping, but again, he was out of band aids. Just like last time, the duct tape wasn’t helping and she was chewing it to shreds. Silly goose. So Cash was on a mission, jogging across campus from his red dorm, still on his Adidas athletic shoes. The lime green and white waistband and some of the purple fabric of his Diesel boxers was visible between his Henley jeans and grey sweater. The boy was sunk down in the thick knit, trying to shield himself from the biting breeze that was starting to carry itself around Kentucky. He bust through the door of the office, eyes falling on the boy that was already standing there. There was a beautiful dog with her ass standing out from under one of the uncomfortable chairs in the office. Cash was immediately overtaken by the insane sparkle effect that was a beautiful dog. He didn’t really pay any reguard to the fact that this boy didn’t appear to be speaking, or that there was someone babbling on at the desk area. The receptionist, he knew for a fact, knew his name. Hell, he had been down here more times than any four kids, looking for various things to supplement his dwindling first aid kit. “Hey dude. Um, can I pet your dog?” Cash had the awkward air about him, but half friendly enough. He hadn’t met this one yet, but the draw of an adorable dog… well, for the blonde boy it was too much. He was easily amused, and Misty wasn’t in immediate danger. The Benadryl had taken care of that. Keep Them Clothes ON. |
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Sync
Master
... I am NOT your father.
Posts: 697
|
Post by Sync on Sept 14, 2010 20:54:25 GMT -6
His head shot up as a whirlwind swooped into the office, causing him to jump out of his skin. Erec's dark oracles were quick to assess the male, not really bothered but his face reddened as the boy spoke to him. Erec looked at him blankly, his brow furrowing. What had he asked? He looked helplessly at the translator who was looking over her shoulder as the boy had entered. She sighed, and then addressed the boy. “Sorry, he doesn't speak English.” she told the new comer, and then turned to address Erec. “Erec, il demande à la compagnie Juliette. Peut-il?” she asked, and then turned back to the receptionist. Erec smiled at the boy and nodded, clucking his tongue so the Afghan hound backed from under the seat. She shuffled around and looked up at the boy, who's name Erec was yet to learn. The femme pushed herself up onto all fours and looked curiously at the boy, her muzzle pushed in the air and then she seemed to snort haughtily. She turned on her heels and trotted to the other side of her master, crawling back under the black chairs. Erec looked at the boy apologetically, and then shrugged. “Désolé.” he offered, knowing that the boy wouldn't know what Erec meant.
The translator looked over her shoulder once more and a addressed the boy. “That is Erec Aube, would you do me a huge favor and show him around the academy?” she asked, and added silently.. So I can get out of here... Her eyes were pleading with the boy, and Erec looked at them both in a confused fashion. He was utterly lost, and had no idea what was going on around him. His brow furrowed in frustration, his want for knowing what everyone was going on about was growing furiously.
outfit, Click?!
translations, 1. Erec, he is asking to pet Juliette. Can he? 2. Sorry
tagged, Hound
word count, three hundred and four
i love them, template @ + stockholm syndrome / lyrics @ the script *live like we’re dying
notes, “ rather rubbish... ”
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Post by houndish on Sept 15, 2010 16:32:43 GMT -6
Oh whoop de freaking do. Look what he had gotten himself into this time… still, maybe he could have some fun with this one. Find some real friends. Still, this language barrier thing would be sorta odd to work around. Cash had retained a little of the French he learned over the years of tripping to Calgary for the Stampede, but Où est la débandade ? or, where is the stampede, might not be the greatest help in the world. Still, a few other things might come back to him.
“Tout le bien, homme.” That sounded about right. Again, the number of times he had crashed into people in the inner workings of the beautiful place that was the fairgrounds in Calgary he would know that phrase. Still the boy sat his ass down on the floor, still trying in vain to coax the dog out. He was such a little kid about things like that, he wouldn’t give up… pretty much ever.
His eyes cast to the translator now, looking ditzy. “Yeah, it’s chill.” He offered Erec a hand to shake, turning to look him in the face “Je suis de Cash comptant, vous voulez venir avec moi?” He was tripping over the words, hoping that his texas drawl wouldn’t interfere too much. It had been a few months since the last trip for the Stampede, and it wasn’t one for the record books. Actually, Cash would rather forget that trip, seeing as he still bore the scars from the misadventure.
Cash cast his eyes on his science teacher as he strode in. “Aw, come on teach. Walk right on in and show me up.” He let a laugh escape, a grin painted on his face. “I got all of four words of that. Um, did you catch any of that and make sure that something offensive didn’t come with it?” The boy was easygoing, bit jovial. It was nice to be able to feel like someone actually needed him around.
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