fandomhighdorms | Second Floor Common Room; Saturday Night.

Entry tags:

Second Floor Common Room; Saturday Night.

There was a television set in the common room. There was also a refrigerator, a stove, a table with legs that all seemed even, no comic books or coconuts wedged underneath merely to keep the surface somewhere near straight. It was genuinely level, made so in a factory of other things genuinely level.

Adah was avoiding these notions of perfect, smooth running as if they came bearing e.Coli and other such viruses, quite possibly even the black plague. Eug alp kcalb. She was curled up on the couch, tightly, creating a cocoon, surprisingly comfortable, in the corner, as if the arm and the cushions around her would protect her from capitalist conveniences of a nation free from the Heart of Darkness. She was reading, a giant volume of Poe, ridiculously huge and unwieldy, ironic to the work itself inside, unless she was reading that horrible novel. She wasn't, though. She was reading The Bells. Again. Backwards.

Ghouls are they.
Human nor brute, neither are they.
Woman nor man, neither are they.
Stone a heart, human, the on.

So maybe Eop rendered himself to backwards well every once in a while. It was enough to satisfy her so that that Adah was almost willing to forgive the television for being utterly useless.

Almost.

She was just hoping that her suspicion that most people would be out and about on a Saturday night was true to fact and that she wouldn't at all be bothered; she needed the change in scenery, though, just a bit.

[[ open, of course ]]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Lee found himself wandering the floor below his (mostly to avoid Harry and his stupid stick) and walked past the common room. He backed up and smiled before saying, "No park tonight?"

At first, Adah heard a voice, just a voice, and thought to ignore it. She did, drawing in a deep breath and trying to back into her cocoon a little further, not realizing that she'd already curled as far as she could. Her left hand gripped on the edge of the book. She hoped to be alone, perhaps that wasn't her fate, but it probably was what she deserved for coming here. She wanted to give the rec room space another try, though. Maybe it was inevitable.

But Adah found her attempts to be invisible thwarted by her curiosity. Damn that curiosity; she wasn't a cat, and interaction would hardly kill her, but it was a great annoyance. Her eyes darted up quickly, intending to steal just a simple glance, and then went back down to the page.

And then back up again, and her head tilted. The Eel. She...well, she hadn't expected that. Almost as if her mind had linked him eternally with grass, and there was no grass here. She blinked at him, once, and then her lower lip tucked under her teeth, as if unsure what to do now. She couldn't very well just say hi, after all.

Instead of stepping into the common room, he leaned against the door just to give her space she seemed to like.

"Me either," he said, shrugging a shoulder. "Feeling lazy, I guess. Doing okay?"

Releasing her lower lip from the bite, Adah nodded her head a few times. Okay was mostly relative, but, for the most part, she supposed it was applicable. She paused, her eyes dropping down to her book for a second. She closed the cover, passing her hands over the worn leather front, and, awkwardly, made the attempt to hold the too-large volume up slightly so that the Eel could see what she was reading. Edgar Allen Poe. Collected Works. Skrowd et cell oceop Nella Ragde.

"Good," he said and then tried to focus on the book, almost squinting to read the title and then frowned when he realized the words didn't mean anything to him.

"Never read that one," he admitted. He'd never read anything from Earth yet. "Any good?"

Adah shrugged her shoulder, looking down to the side a bit with an expression that showed that it was not much; she had her phases when Eop was everything, everything was Poe, but she'd picked him apart, read him from every angle by now that he was like an old coat: well worn and comfortably familiar, but nothing new and useless against the rain. She took a moment to decide how to solve the problem of Lee's own deprevation, though, because everyone needed a good, old, useless coat, and then she started to shift through the pages, with an odd quickness thanks to the dependability of her left hand, and found what she was looking for.

After realizing that she couldn't hand the book off very well with just one hand, she ended up just tossing it on the open space on the couch, its pages open to Annabel Lee (http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/annabel-lee/).

And then she stared at the book like it was a viper. Better yet, a green mamba, staring at the last word in the title. How did that even slip under her awareness? Was she slipping, or was it just coincidence?

After hesitating for a brief moment, he padded into the room and crouched down in front of the couch to read the poem on the pages in front of him. It had his name in the title so he already liked it.

He hadn't read much poetry in his life so he read slowly, trying to comprehend as he went but had to stop and read a few lines over.

"That's a sad one," he said and frowned at the book like it was the book's fault.

Adah drew the book back into her arms, into the crook of her legs, not at all to console it for the Eel's accusation, but simply to don her armor again. She looked down at the poem, although she knew it practically by heart, and shook her head slightly. Only sad if the Eel meant pathetic, but somehow, she didn't think he did.

Instead of standing again, Lee sat on the bit of floor he'd been crouching on, arms behind him.

"I forgot to bring books when I left home," he told her, sounding sheepish. "Left them all in my room because I wasn't thinking. We don't have poetry like that."

Immediately, Adah wondered what the Eel's poetry was like, then. In fact, the question gnawed at her, nibbling annoyingly at her brain and making her head want to tic over the possibility that there were types of poetry out there that she was unfamiliar with.

Then, she frowned at Lee, not because of the poetry, but because of her silence. She hadn't brought her notebook with her, just her book, and she wanted to respond. She felt confused and torn when that happened; she wasn't used to being around people she actually felt like she wanted to talk to them. Because she wanted to tell him about her books, more arriving by the day it seemed, her roommate's books, and that the library had books; he should come Wednesday, that was when she was working...

But she didn't, looking over at him on the floor, deciding if it was important enough to waste words on.

He was thoughtful for a minute, glancing at the spot on the knee of his pants before looking back up and saying, "A lot of the poetry I read was more...just surface, I think. Nothing really to the words but the words themselves. I was obviously reading the wrong poems."

Ducking her head slightly as if that would help keep it more private, Adah smirked a little at that. Could it really have been called poetry, then? Really? And she was glad that he'd said more, instead of just being put off by her silence. She looked up at him through the hair in her eyes, head still down, smile still there, softly, as she lifted the book slightly, more of a tilting than anything, and then arched her eyebrow suggestively. Wouldn't be difficult at all to find another...it was a big big book, and Eop was a disturbed man.

He shifted, moved so his fingers could reach the book but didn't flip the page just yet. "Should I just find one or should I flip until you see a good one that I should read?"

A bit reluctantly, Adah released the book into the Eel's possesion, her smile fading into an expression of thought. She settled back, trouble. What should she recommend? Her first impression was the one she'd been reading when he came in, but it wasn't very much a quick read. She didn't mind sitting quietly while he read, but she didn't know how he'd feel about a longer poem. If he was unfamiliar with Eop, of course he'd have to be introduced to The Nevar Eht, but, again, length was an issue there, ever more. So she decided on a favorite, after remembering where to find it.

She held up her left hand and slowly worked out the three numbers with her fingers that would make the page where the Eel might find an enigma (http://www.poetryloverspage.com/poets/poe/enigma.html) besides the one gesturing numbers at him on the couch.

He watched her hands carefully before flipping to the indicated page and finding the poem.

He read a few words slowly and then thought of something. "Want me to read it out loud?"

Adah's head ducked again, another attempt to hid what was already a soft, slight smile, and the light blush accompanying it. When the rare reaction passed, she lifted her eyes again toward the Eel and wrapped her arm around her legs, drawing them in tighter. She spoke very, very softly; if the room wasn't already so quiet, it might not have been heard. As it was, the soft hum of the refrigerator still threatened to drown it out. "Only," she said, "if you want to..."

"Let's give it a try," he decided before clearing his throat. He started reading the poem, stumbling over a few of the more unfamiliar words, brow furrowing when comprehension didn't automatically come.

He didn't stop though, mostly because he wanted to understand the poem and the words and because she'd offered him the book and he wanted to offer something in return.

A stumbling read of a poem might not have been the best thing to offer but he offered it anyway.

Jack wandered in the room, torn between getting something to eat and sitting and thinking. The sitting won, but not yet into the thinking.

Adah tilted her head back against the arm of the couch and closed her eyes to listen to the Eel read the Eop, a smirk drifting onto her face at every mistake, ever struggle. It wasn't unkind, though; it was anything but. It was nice to hear something read by someone who wasn't set on getting it perfect like Leah, who actually recognized when he struggled unlike Rachel who just blindly plowed ahead despite creating entirely new words to the English language, and who actually read it instead of just reading the first line and then making up the rest entirely like Ruth May. No, it wasn't perfect, but as if someone with only half a brain, half a body was anyone to hold that against anyone.

Adah against the arm of the couch stiffened slightly as the odd boy with the glitter took a seat, focusing on her book. As often with predator and prey in the wild, one wouldn't strike if the other stayed perfectly completely still. Perhaps that same would work for people and them leaving you alone.

When he finished, he ran a finger over the words, trying to coalesce the thoughts the poem had created into something manageable.

There were just a lot of thoughts.

Still. "I can read another one, if you'd like."

Adah opened her eyes to look over at the Eel again, blinking once as if to clarify her expression. It was simple, intending to communicate to him that he should expect that what she thought was the same thing she thought before. If he'd like to. But she also made sure to put a small inkling of hope in there, to let him know that she thought that would be rather nice. She liked listening; she was very good at it.

He nodded once, ducking his head to cover his grin and flipped through the book for something that looked like it'd make a good read.

A few words caught his eye and he chose a poem (http://www.pambytes.com/poe/poems/evening_star.html) seemingly at random because of those words.

"Here we go," he said and cleared his throat again. The words weren't so unfamiliar this time so is voice was stronger, more confident. He found himself liking this one if only for the imagery that he could picture in his own mind as he read.

There was a little extra thump in her chest, eager to see what the Eel would choose, eager to later pick the choice apart and try to derive some sort of extra meaning or reason behind it. She shifted slightly, a little out of her cocoon to lean forward a little better without straining anything, laying her cheek against her leg.

Of course; probably wouldn't have to pick at this one. Stars, planets, heavens. S'neva. Eh. Sten alps, rats. But the more he read, the more that first moment of eye-rolling obviousness faded as she started to remember the poem, as it and its meaning unfurled itself from her memory, into her brain, at the same pace in which Lee read it, and her eyes quietly drifted away, listening, imagining, slight shivering. Or that could have just been her body, arguing with how she twisted her arm slightly to cross herself, holding it close, face shifting to bury into her arm as her fingers wrapped her shoulder.

Luke hadn't exactly been up for a giant gathering last night, but he figured becoming a hermit was a little too Master Yoda for his taste.

He smiled when he saw a familiar figure in the second floor common room.

"Hi," he said quietly.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

Second Floor Common Room; Saturday Night.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject