Callum Nightingale. (polyglotism) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2013-01-25 00:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log, callum nightingale, moa enquist |
WHO: Callum and Moa
WHAT: Callum checks on Moa
WHEN: Thursday 24th January
WHERE: The memorial
WARNINGS: none
STATUS: Complete
Ever since the trees were planted Moa had spent a lot of time by the memorial. She didn’t like the Parakeet garden and their way to remember Erik, but the trees and the names carved into the wall were different. Everyone grieved in their own way, her counselor told her, and maybe she was right about that. Moa’s way seemed to include sitting under one of the trees, going through the pictures she’d taken throughout the day. She wasn’t a great photographer, she didn’t think, but it was a lot better than trying to do math or science and end up in tears because nothing made sense and she couldn’t think clearly enough to sort things out and come up with a proper answer. Besides, maybe she’d learn. And if she didn’t, she still got to play around in the darkroom, having chosen to do both digital and traditional photography, and while she hadn’t spent a lot of time in there yet, she was pretty sure that it would become somewhere to hide if she needed it. When she needed it. But today it was sunshine and dry grass, it was outside and absentmindedly turning her power on and off as she tried to decide what pictures to keep and which to delete. She was about halfway done when she heard someone approach and looked up. “Hi,” she said. “Do you need–” She didn’t quite know how to finish that sentence, but it did seem rude to sit here all the time, when there might be other people who wanted a moment alone at the memorial. “Um. Space? Time? Alone, I mean.” ==== Callum shook his head in response. “No, stay there,” he said. He didn’t really know Moa but he knew that she was a friend of Erik’s so seeing her by the memorial for his dead teammate and the others made him feel like he should check on her. He liked trying to be there for people though he wasn’t really sure why since in the end he always left and could never always be there. Maybe he liked that he tried and did everything he could while he was around, absolving him of some of the guilt caused by leaving. Not that leaving was something he could do here. “Just interested in your photography,” he said, gesturing at her camera. Diving straight into asking how she was coping didn’t seem like the best way to go about things when they barely knew each other. “I do travel photography as one of my independent studies,” he explained. Though without being able to travel anywhere it was basically normal photography. ==== “Oh.” Moa looked down at her camera and back up. “I’m not really that great, I just started. Like, four days ago. I mean I have taken pictures before with my phone and stuff but now I have it as an independent study or two really. So maybe I’ll get better at it.” She recognised Callum from class, but they hadn’t really talked before. They’d had some together last year. Before she’d overhauled all her classes and horrified Claudia. “Travel photography sounds interesting,” she said, never really having been that great at talking to new people. “Sorry you had to travel here, though, it’s not really all that fun to photograph. I mean. I like it. But if you’ve travelled a lot and done a lot of photography I guess it’s really... samey?” ==== “I’m sure you will,” he replied, in regards to her getting better at it. “Lots of practice helps.” Though, like she said, there wasn’t much travel stuff for him to take pictures of while trapped in the forcefield and he wasn’t into photography enough to try and take pictures of people or anything like that. Really he’d only picked travel photography because he could and if he ever had to get a proper career then that sounded like a good one since it meant he still got to travel. Settling down was not something he planned on doing. “I haven’t done a lot of photography,” he told her. “I take pictures of the places I go,” mainly because he couldn’t afford many souvenirs and carrying any around seemed like a waste of space and luggage weight so it was the best keepsake he had, aside from memories, “But before coming here I knew nothing about all the technical parts.” He knew Erik had liked photography, noticing his tendency to take photos of everyone, and wondered if that had impacted Moa’s decision to take up the subject. “Mind if I sit or do you want to be alone?” he asked. ==== There was something about the way he talked that caught her attention. Something about the accent. She tried to remember what country he was from, but Callum wasn’t exactly a name that screamed any particular nationality. “It’s different. Than doing it with a phone. But I’m sure I’ll get used to it. It’s fun.” He kept talking, but Moa was only half paying attention to what he was saying, because trying to figure out what it was that didn’t seem quite right was more than a little distracting. “Sure,” she said. “I’ve been alone too much lately.” It was true. She’d been withdrawing from everyone, not wanting them to feel like they had to take care of her. They’d all lost people. She wasn’t the only one. It was hard to remember sometimes, but she tried to hold on to it, not leaning too heavily on anyone. She knew that Neve probably heard her cry sometimes, but luckily they’d never been the sort of roommates to share all that much. They left each other alone. She liked that. “Where are you from?” she said suddenly, curiosity getting the better of her. “You talk like you’re from... home. But you’re not. I’d remember if you were Scandinavian.” There weren’t that many of them now. A few Norwegians, the ones from Iceland. And her. ==== "Oh," he chuckled as he took a seat on the grass. Never noticing when his power was changing the way he spoke he often forgot that it happened. "New Zealand," he answered, "And our accent is nothing like the Australian one, no matter what people say." Not that he even had his own accent much, only when hanging out with his fellow Kiwis or on the rare occasion he called home. "My power changes my accent," he explained, "So you're right, not Scandinavian." ==== “I probably shouldn’t admit that it took me a while to learn how to tell apart British and Australian English, should I?” That made her sound really stupid. Or ignorant, maybe. Both, probably. “I mean not the people who sound really English or Australian,” she hurried to add. “Those are pretty easy. But I’m better at telling the others apart now too. It’s hard not to learn around here. ” She’d had similar problems with Irish and Scottish accents in the beginning. Accents were hard, especially when you were so awkward that you had to focus to make sure all your limbs were around and not doing anything too crazy, not to mention what you were saying, and how. Paying attention to other people was harder, then. “So you copy me? Wow. That’s a pretty cool power.” Moa put her camera down and wrapped her arms around her legs, unconsciously moving into a position that made her feel safe. Her counsellor had stuff to say about that. She had things to say about pretty much everything. “I haven’t heard anyone talking like me since –” She paused. “Well. Since.” ==== "Nah," he said with a shrug, "They all sound the same to me too." Literally exactly the same, no matter where the accent was from. He wished that he, like Moa, was learning about accents while he was here. It might have seemed like he was since he did a lot more accents a day than he had before coming to IVI but he didn't notice it happening and so didn't feel like anything was changing. "Yeah, I guess I do," he answered. "Unconsciously. I can't stop it." Hopefully she didn't mind that it reminded her of her dead friend. "I'll speak however you speak to me. Accent, language, whatever." ==== “Oh,” Moa said, slowly realising what that meant. She never talked Swedish to a native Swede anymore, save the phone calls home, and talking to the Norwegians wasn’t the same thing, even if they did understand each other. She switched to Swedish, just to try it out. “So you still understand what I’m saying?” She smiled as he nodded, because somehow it made things easier. Even if it was just his power, and not that he was from home. “Do you mind talking to me a bit? In Swedish?” ==== The switch wasn’t noticeable to him but since she claimed she was now speaking Swedish he believed that she was. “Sure,” he replied to her in Swedish, giving her a friendly smile. If talking in Swedish would help her look less sad or feel more at home then he was happy to talk to her in it as long as she wanted. It wasn’t like it was difficult for him at all. “We can talk for as long as you like.” ==== |