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Post by huey on Dec 7, 2010 14:32:09 GMT -5
it's only in your head to feel left out or looked down on.
He had always loved the aviary.
Huey was never quite sure what it was about the aviary at the zoo that attracted him. He enjoyed the zoo in general, but there was something about the aviary that made him feel better. It made him feel relieved and content. If there was a major paper due in a week and he was on edge, he would convince one of his friends or his uncle to take him to the zoo. When he was old enough to drive on his own, he was sure that he wouldn't have to feel childish and could just leave and go whenever he wanted. He could stop getting weird looks from the people who he didn't know as well. His uncle used to stay with him, but after a while, he just started dropping the teenager off and going to do whatever he wanted. Whenever he stepped inside that chicken wire enclosure, the sound of birdsong was all he could hear. He especially liked to sit next to the pond and watch the ducks. They were always so pristine and happy looking. He had no idea what type they were, though he knew in the back of his head that ducks had different types like dogs did. They were white. That was all he knew. He once had spent two hours in the aviary, over an hour of that sitting on the bench next to the duck pond.
Today, Huey had a specific set of things that were bothering him. He couldn't define all of them, but he could figure out some of the reasons. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn't find his favorite baseball cap. Maybe it was because he hadn't been able to find a red shirt that morning. Maybe he had simply had a bad dream and woken up in a less than stellar mood. Maybe that mood was because it was early in the week, and already the school days were beginning to blend together into a pile of mediocrity and nothingness. Everything had come together to put him in a generally negative mood, one that settled upon his shoulders and merely dragged him down. He had stepped inside the door and practically demanded that his uncle take him to the zoo. His uncle had taken one look at him before coming up with some excuse for why they would travel out that way, grabbed his keys, and headed out the door without hesitation. Huey had followed him, attempting to keep himself optimistic at the thought of the zoo for the evening.
He had spent the past ten minutes in the aviary enclosure.
It was a lovely place, really. He knew that whoever had designed it had certainly put lots of thought into it. The birds were free to do whatever they pleased, and it was extremely spacious. There was a small waterfall and stream attached to the pond, winding alongside the main walking path. It was this that he followed along, his tennis shoes slapping softly along the pavement. He wasn't quite back to a happy sort of mood, but it was increasing. He was no longer frowning. He wasn't yet smiling, but that would surely change. He tugged his chocolate brown bomber jacket closer to him. It was reaching that point of the year where everything began to get cold. He had never really been a large fan of the cold, but he would tolerate it as long as possible. As long as those white ducks he adored were out and swimming and cheerful, he would continue to survive. His eyes traced along the sides of the walkway, scouring the space for birds as he began to make his way closer to the pond. He was so caught up in his searching that he barely noticed the figure sitting on the bench.
His bench was occupied.
Huey froze. What? His brow creased for a moment. He had come here for some peace and tranquility, to unwind and simply observe. And there was somebody sitting where he always sat? He frowned slightly before wedging his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He had half a mind to leave, and yet, he couldn't. His only real reason for coming into the aviary was to watch the ducks swim in circles. Finally, Huey took a few steps closer to the figure. He gestured to the other side of the bench, his head tilted to one side. "Excuse me." He paused to clear his throat. "Is anybody sitting here? Would you mind if I did?"
tag open!
word count seven six four.
lyrics the middle by jimmy eat world.
notes he's kind of strange. |
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Post by clopin on Dec 11, 2010 17:16:00 GMT -5
  It was a somewhat uneventful day for Cosmin. During the late morning hours he had set to work busking, this time with his acoustic lute. Where he normally preferred dancing and playing his pan pipe, his grandmother (who fancied herself quite the fortune-teller), told him it would be a bleak day for an audience. Normally the boy would dismiss the old woman's insight with a devilish grin and a wave of his hand, reminding her that fate was rarely ever subject to being read by mere mortals. But at a glance outside, it seemed a sad day, the sky lacking in its usual luster and as such, children and families alike were more than likely to be inside their homes. So, settling with instead a nod, he kissed his grandmother's cheek goodbye, bid farewell to his father, and set out with his wooden instrument.
Unfortunately, his luck was quite abysmal. While a young man clad in eccentric clothing, enthusiastically playing music for passerby on a busy street corner normally acquired a far sum of money, it just wasn't meant to be today. So, as any self respecting man, Cosmin admitted defeat with a smile that implied he'd be back for a rematch another time. After checking his wallet for any cash the boy had on him, the boy hailed a taxi cab and, after flashing a friendly grin the driver's way, requested he be taken to the zoo he'd heard so much about. It had been awhile since he encountered exotic animals, and as he had nothing better to do, why not pay a visit?
It had taken some time but eventually the cab stopped and the gypsy exited, carelessly tossing the fare (and then some) towards the driver. Without so much as a backward glance, he strutted towards the front entrance, lute safely packed away in its case in tow. After successfully charming the young woman present into giving him a discount, Cosmin strode into the interior of the building.
For a few moments he simply observed the pitiful beasts in their cages. It never ceased to astound and irritate him just how mankind managed to think domesticating wild animals was a grand idea. Look but don't touch, it's just simple. With a twitch of his lips, the Romany watched as a child attempted to chuck a pebble at a lion's den.
"S'il vous plaît," he murmured with a shake of his head, "qu'est-ce qu'un gosse."
Turning his back to the display, the gypsy wandered a bit more before coming to a stop before a large enclosure. Glancing up, he read the title "Aviary" and allowed a gracious smile to tug at his lips. After opening the safety door, the slim man entered the brightly-lit room. High above him was a wide transparent ceiling, allowing a large amount of sunlight to seep through. Birds of all kinds fluttered back and forth, here and there, chirping and singing merrily. Spying a small pond nearby, the boy strolled towards it and took a seat on the wooden bench provided. With a curious tilt of his head, Cosmin watched as a line of ducks waddled towards the water. With a grin, he flicked the locks open on his instrument case and slowly withdrew the lute so as not to startle the birds. Setting the case on the ground carefully, he laid the instrument on his lap.
"Excuse me."
With a blink, he turned to the new voice. Was it an employee come to tell him he couldn't play for the animals? He almost scoffed.
"Is anybody sitting here? Would you mind if I did?"
A carefree smile appeared on the boy's lips and, with a shake of his head, slid to one side so as to allow the newcomer room to sit with him. He looked young, younger than him anyway. And perhaps timid? He was certainly an attractive young man, and Cosmin flashed a charming grin and wink his way.
"Not at all, ma chère," he replied smoothly, fingers experimentally tuning his lute and plucking at the strings, "There is more than enough room for the two of us, no?"- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - quinn/huey <33 && THE WORDS 6 8 2 && THE LOCATION;; pride rock aviary && THE OUTFIT;; click excuse the girl clothes. just imagine them manlier&& THE NOTES;; this felt like a crap post. blaaaaah <33 btw, huey is adorable. excuse cosmin if he flirts too much, he thinks so too. && THE LYRICS The Morning Of's Let Your Spirit Soar&& THE TEMPLATE;; samantha1234 of caution. [/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by huey on Dec 12, 2010 0:30:25 GMT -5
it's only in your head to feel left out or looked down on.
Under some circumstances, Huey figured that he probably would just have sat down anyways without a care as to who the other person was. There was that piece of his brain that informed him that, no, he really wouldn't. Years of involving himself with that scout organization had pounded some form of strict manners into his thick skull, he knew. They wouldn't just shut off because he felt like being lazy or ignoring them, they were a part of how he acted on a normal basis. Not to mention the fact that you never knew when someone was going to say no or be in a bad mood. He would have felt ridiculously guilty if he had bothered the wrong person just because he neglected to pay attention to the people around him. He would have hated to simply sit down and find out that he was sitting next to a woman who was on the phone when her boyfriend was breaking up with her, or a man who was losing his job. He didn't want to interrupt someone if they were meeting someone else there, or someone who simply wanted to be alone.
The young man turned to him. Instantly, Hubert was struck by his clothing. Of course, he certainly wasn't going to say anything. He didn't imagine that it was something that would really come up in conversation, and he mentally declared that he would not judge the man. Huey had seen stranger sights, he imagined. He could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks as the stranger winked. Still, he worked to keep his cool and smiled slightly as he sat down. The man's voice reached his ears, and Huey turned to face him, his head tilting to one side. French? He hadn't heard the language in years. He had clung to the language as much as he could in the several years he had lived in Fantasia, but it wasn't the same. His uncle didn't speak it. Nobody in his school spoke it. His grasp of English was good, not perfect, and he still pronounced his words in a particular way. No matter, he was certain that it wasn't really a big deal. Though he was certainly that he only understood a handful of words, it was almost comforting.
"Merci," he responded quietly. The word surprised Huey, it was just so unusual to run into anybody who wasn't just rattling off in English or some language he had never heard before. His hands found his pockets as he took a seat, his eyes landing on the ducks. Oh, how he loved those ducks. If it were possible for him to purchase them, he probably would have. Once more, he found himself mentally correcting a thought. If he was able to take the ducks home with him, he would probably be dumbfounded as to how to take care of them. If they were here, they were well taken care of by various zoo staff members. Also, if they were here, he wouldn't be the only one to see them. It would be like now, where everyone can see them once they get into the zoo. He folded his hands together as he glanced down to his fingers before his eyes once more dwelled on the ducks swimming around the aviary pond.
Hubert remained silent for a while, simply watching. When the other young man pulled the instrument out of his case, Huey glanced over. His eyes remained fixed on the item as the stranger began to pluck at the strings. His head tilted to one side and his brow creased. "What is that, exactly?" he asked, his confusion obvious. He had never seen anybody bring a musical instrument into the zoo. Then again, he never really assumed that trumpets or flutes would be appreciated by the animals or the staff involved. He didn't even know how people would react if someone whipped out a trumpet and started playing jazz music or something like that. He fell quiet once more for some time before clearing his throat and once more speaking. "I am Huey, by the way. Huey Canard."
tag cosmin!
word count 691.
lyrics the middle by jimmy eat world.
notes aww, well, cosmin amuses me quite a bit. |
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Post by clopin on Dec 12, 2010 16:56:29 GMT -5
The whispered word of thanks caught Cosmin's attention and, grin growing, he looked at the boy with appraisal. It wasn't everyday he heard a reciprocation of his native language and, indeed, it was almost refreshing. Giving a nod of approval, the boy turned back to the instrument in his lap, nimble fingers plucking at the delicate strings like a mother to her child.
The gypsy wasn't one to lie, however. He wasn't particularly skilled in stringed instruments. Not as much as woodwinds, anyway. He found the act of tuning them something of a bother to him, and even for someone with a good ear, it was difficult to adjust the strings perfectly. But Cosmin was nothing if not slightly modest, so he wouldn't complain about the problems concerning a lute.
"What is that, exactly?"
The question was a common one, and the brunette turned to glance at the boy once more. With a flourish, he strummed quickly, displaying each individual note enthusiastically. Beside him, a few ducks fluttered their wings, clearly surprised by the foreign noise. Cosmin grinned playfully and instead adopted a softer, more soothing melody, plucking the strings slowly and carefully.
"This is a lute," replied the Roma, pausing to address the boy, "Originating in Europe during the Renaissance Era, it is the the predecessor of the modern acoustic guitar." Cosmin's fingers absently strummed once more, his mouth curving into a charming smile. "I prefer this over a guitar."
"I am Huey, by the way. Huey Canard."
The gypsy chuckled good-heartedly, giving a nod of his head. "Such an interesting surname, mon ami. If I am not mistaken, 'Canard' is a, what was it, noun, meaning 'intentionally misleading'." He gave another wink. "I only hope that your name doesn't foretell any devious intentions, Huey."
Cosmin was something of a natural flirt. Winking, shooting charismatic smiles, and initiating physical contact was second nature to him. Many would call this manipulation, and while it's true he often uses his attractive features as a means to get what he wants, it's also innocent pleasure. He enjoys making others feel special, even if it's artificial. But he wasn't one for much self-analysis.
"Cosmin Viorel Luminitsa," he recited, rolling his tongue appropriately, "French Romanian. Parlant de ce qui..." Cosmin raised an eyebrow curiously, "Are you French? You pronunciation, it's..different."- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - && THE TAG;; quinn/huey <33 && THE WORDS 3 7 9 && THE LOCATION;; pride rock aviary && THE OUTFIT;; click excuse the girl clothes. just imagine them manlier&& THE NOTES;; holy crap short post.  i'm sorry, it felt way longer when i was typing. D: oh, and i listened to this for inspiration. it's very charming. <3 && THE LYRICS The Morning Of's Let Your Spirit Soar&& THE TEMPLATE;; samantha1234 of caution. [/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by huey on Dec 17, 2010 20:12:54 GMT -5
it's only in your head to feel left out or looked down on.
Hubert was almost surprised by the tunes that were produced from the instrument. He had figured enough to know it was something designed to make music, but he had honestly never seen anything like it before. He had seen trumpets and violins and flutes and other sorts of instruments, ones that were typical for school bands and orchestral classes and rock bands. Huey smiled faintly at the distress it caused the few ducks nearby, somehow a mixture of pity and amusement. They had probably never heard music before, not in here. Every bird that was a permanent member of the exhibit had been injured in some way, snared wings or deformed feet. He didn't really know what all had happened to the ducks, but they would probably have not been able to survive out on their own. The music was a pleasant surprise. When the tune changed to something more melodic, Huey glanced over to watch the young man play.
"This is a lute." Huey's eyes remained on the man as he explained the origin of the unusual instrument, an early version of the modern guitar. The sounds were almost similar, he figured. They had the same basic way of being played. At least, he assumed so. He really wasn't musically inclined; he didn't really know how to play either instrument. The lute did seem to have a feel to it that hinted that it was older, especially than any modern electric guitars. The slight smile returned to Huey's face as he placed his hands on the edge of the bench on either side of him, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I prefer this over a guitar." He nodded slightly. His voice was soft as he managed to bring his sentences together. "I don't really play any instruments, but I always figured that the whole concept of a pick was confusing. It's cool that you're playing here, though. I don't think I've ever been here when someone was playing for the birds."
Where was that typical Huey confidence?
Probably hiding in his backpack, storing up its energy.
When the other fellow began to talk about Huey's surname, he smirked faintly. "I've never been told that, actually. I have no idea. I'm fairly certain is also means 'duck' in your native language. At least, I'm assuming it is your native language." He paused, raising his brows. He wasn't quite sure if his comfort level was visible, but slowly he was beginning to reclaim his usual demeanor. He wasn't going to run around being rude, and it would certainly be rude to tell this stranger to stop acting the way he was. Winks and grins and all sorts of things were not normally something Huey received, at least, not to his knowledge. His cheeks flushed slightly when another crack appeared in that armor he was building up. Still, a slight grin slipped onto his face. "I'm certainly not a nefarious one, monsieur. Well. My uncle would surely disagree with that statement, but no." He may have had an adventurous streak, but there was something about the way the man spoke that didn't quit sit with Hubert.
Cosmin Viorel Luminitsa. It was certainly unlike most of the names that ran over Huey's ears. Even in a place like Fantasia, where people came from all sorts of walks of life. The man was French, certainly not a surprise to the teenager. "Are you French? Your pronunciation is different." The youngster shrugged slightly, glancing out at the ducks. "I lived in France until I was nine. My mother sent me to live with my uncle in Fantasia. I've been here ever since. I like it here. My French is very limited because of how frequently I have to use English around here. I barely remember anything. Still, yes, I consider France to be home." He leaned back slightly. "Supposedly, if I stay here, eventually nobody will be able to tell I was born in France."
tag cosmin!
word count 659.
lyrics the middle by jimmy eat world.
notes cosmin is adorable, not gonna lie. |
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i'm sorry, it felt way longer when i was typing. D: