splitbrain (splitbrain) wrote in oblivion_rp, @ 2010-01-22 02:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-12-26, danny, keyuri |
Languages are Tricky
Who: Danny and Keyuri
Where: Eurycleia's Cafe
When: Morning
What: (mis)communication
“Ha!”
The shout was loud enough to startle several of the patrons at the tables around him. They twitched and jerked sharply at the sudden burst of laughter, a fork flew from the grasp of a particularly excitable old biddy who shot him an appalled sort of grandmotherly ‘Oh my goodness!’ look that Danny didn’t have any appreciable reaction to. It was possible he didn’t see them. Doubled over laughing, face creased in a hundred ways with the hilarity, it didn’t seem he was giving much accord to anything except what was going down on his laptop display. Frowns were exchanged. One man shifted in his chair as if to speak up and ask the young man to remove his conversation to a more appropriate venue…
He sat back down when Danny started signing at the laptop. On the display,twin girls frowned into their webcams. Kady was peering at her computer as though if she negotiated the angles correctly she could see more of what was going on to Danny’s immediate left. She was wearing her glasses and several fishtanks glowed greenly from the background of her high rise New York apartment. She tended to Skype him regularly, sometime a little desperately – lonely for someone who spoke her language. (Not ASL, but intelligence...and maybe understanding.)
“What was that?” she signed. “Was that a fork?”
“Yes,” signed Danny. “They think I’m Deaf. So they’re forgiving me for being loud.”
Molly – who was distinguishable from Kady only by her lip ring and Ramones T-shirts – rolled her eyes. “You are always too loud,” she told him in her slightly atonal speaking voice, at the same time signing her words. (pixilation and lag made lip reading spotty at best) She was as self conscious as a four year old, as in: Fuck you and your opinions. “And you don’t even have an excuse. You can hear exactly how annoying you are.”
“Oh fine,” he signed, with a particular vicious emphasis in his gestures. “Now I’m not bringing you anything nice from Bermuda. Kady. You get everything. What’s your address again? And you’re still working at Hooters these days aren’t you? What ever happened to that asshole with the Birkenstock? Miles. Milton? Margo…”
“You mean Raphael?”
A grin. “Yeah. That guy.”
“Nice Try. Did you even comb your hair today? It looks like you slept on your face.”
The, indeed, slightly rumpled young man signed something universally rude to the laptop for the benefit of everyone. His cousins threw back their heads identically and laughed as Danny grinned at them from hundreds of miles away.