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 Posted: Sat Nov 22, 2008 1:31 pm
Canaan breathed deeply as he walked into his assigned dormroom, trying to get a feel for the place. It didn't smell like anyone really, a sign that it was probably a room that had yet to be used. Which made sense, as the school was new, and had quite a few students, but not enough to fill all of its ample space... Yet.
He had been told he would recieve a roommate, one of the other boys that had come on the boat with him. Cane didn't especially want one, but he hadn't expected a room all alone, which would be ideal. Scyeth had told him that would only come when he chose a division to go into.
Cane spotted his own meager luggage, as well as someone else's. That person had a lot more stuff, it seemed. It was all neatly stacked in the center of the room, and he decided to arrange his things now, while he was alone. The boy had a few secrets. After all, didn't they all...?
An antique, home-made bag of hide and leather was grabbed from the top of his suitcase. It held his most personal belongings, and he simply slid it underneath the twinbed on the left side of the room. That would be his side. He would unpack when he was sure he'd be alone for a while.
The suitcase beneath it was simply hefted and stuck near the furniture on his side of the room. There. With a sigh, Cane allowed himself to settle on his claimed bed, hand finding his dreamcatcher as he stared at the ceiling. He could hear someone coming.
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Posted: Sat Nov 22, 2008 2:35 pm
Brontë casually strolled down the hallway to where his future residence would be. He had been informed that he would have a roommate. However, the details of this individual were left out and this young man would be a mystery to him until he reached his room.
Brontë only pondered on his mystery roommate for a moment and then adjusted the volume on his MP3 player. The boat ride has left him surprisingly uncomfortable. He had never felt out of place before, but the boat ride had given him too much time to think and this only annoyed him as being nervous or jittery would make him look weak or frazzled.
Soon, he was taken away from his own mind as he reached the room. He casually opened the door and noticed that his roommate was already there. He looked at him for only a second and noticed the young man's intricate necklace. Not wanting to make any awkward moves, he simply smiled and waved.
"Hey man, I'm Brontë Corentin. How's it going?"
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Posted: Sat Nov 22, 2008 3:06 pm
"... Mmn."
Canaan's bright eyes slid smoothly over Bronte, examining him as he quickly stored his necklace beneath his dark blue tanktop. That must be him. The dorm-mate. Tan skin, interesting accent... Probably from the European continent. The muscular native nodded in greeting, his voice low and quiet.
"Canaan Kreery."
Not the talkative type, it seemed, however, it occured to him to answer the other boy's question. "Fine. You?"
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Posted: Sat Nov 22, 2008 3:32 pm
Brontë immediately realized how reserved his roommate was going to be. His short responses only added to the mystery that was Canaan Kreery. Brontë did not allow this lessen his opinion of Canaan. He figured that everyone had their reasons and he certainly wasn't going to pour his heart out after simple introductions. So, he gave a simple smile and further examined his new roommate. His expression and the way he definitely had a rich background and had lead a life full of experiences. Brontë respected anyone who persevered through life and did not falter.
"That's an interesting name you have there, Canaan Kreery. That's cool that you are doing well. Did you like the ride here? Oh! What would you like me to call you?
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Posted: Sat Nov 22, 2008 4:13 pm
"I dislike the cold." A slight frown, and Canaan sat up, back pressed against the wall so he could watch Bronte move about the room. "Canaan." He was quiet, before deciding he should probably contribute to the conversation.
"It is biblical." The name, he meant. A long pause, and he sighed before continuing. "Where are you from?"
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Posted: Sat Nov 22, 2008 4:36 pm
Brontë moved to his side of the room and sat down on the twin bed. he removed his headphones so that he appeared to be fully attentive. and leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees and looked to Canaan as he rested against the wall.
"Canaan it is then. You can call me Brontë. The cold weather can throw you off your game, especially if you don't like it. I'm from Athens in the Attica periphery of Greece. How about you? Where do you come from?"
He gave the other boy a calm warm look. He wanted to have any easy time as the two of them would be seeing a lot of each other.
"Oh, what kind of hobbies do you have?"
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Posted: Sat Nov 22, 2008 4:50 pm
"California, North America." He shrugged and reached under his bed to pull out his leather bag, reaching inside to remove a few objects. A blade and small carving, some mechanic's gear, and from his jacket pocket came a harmonica. "At home I didn't have much spare time." He was usually doing some type of work. "But I do this."
He whittled, played music, repaired things... Canaan didn't spend much time reading. "I walk. Listen."
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Posted: Sat Nov 22, 2008 5:29 pm
"I've heard of California. It's one of the major cities in North America from what I've heard. Did you grow up in the big city around all the famous movie stars?"
Brontë laughed a bit and smiled again. Though Canaan only spoke a few words, Brontë didn't sense any negative emotions from him. This was one of the few times that Brontë was fully focused on reality. Usually he was listening to his music and daydreaming or working on improving his voice to become a powerful opera singer. He wanted to seem friendly and not oblivious to the world around him.
Brontë watched carefully as Canaan removed the various items from his bag.
"Have you been carving for a long time or did you recently take it up? It's good to be a listener so that you don't miss anything."
Brontë then got up and started to unpack his things.
"You can keep talking, I just want to make sure I finish unpacking now or I'll never finish."
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Posted: Sun Nov 23, 2008 1:00 am
"California is a state..." Canaan's brief chuckle wasn't mocking, simply amused. They were from very different parts of the world, after all. "I grew up on a Reservation. Not crowded at all. No movie stars." He began to work on the carving spoke of. It was a coyote. "Since I was small." He was simply a quiet, observant guy. Not a chatty cathy, but he had no bad feelings toward Bronte. In fact, the other boy was pretty nice.
"You talk, now." Cane prefered it that way.
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Posted: Sun Nov 23, 2008 3:39 pm
Brontë listened intently as Canaan spoke and in a few minutes finished arranging the cloths and personal items he had brought. Only a few books of old legends and his MP3 player were his true personal items. The rest were only for personal hygiene and had little value to Brontë. He then sat down on his bed again and leaned against the wall.
"Wow, I've never met anyone from a Reservation. I've heard about them in my American History classes. I didn't know there were any left in California. That is really something. "
He paused for a moment and wrapped his mind around the idea of a reservation. Honestly, he couldn't imagine a reservation in this day in age, but that wasn't surprising considering he grew up in the heart of Athens and had little exposure to Native American history.
"That's cool that you have kept with whittling since you were young. I can relate. I've been practicing opera since I was very young. I've been working on strengthening my voice since I could speak. Do you like opera? Some do and some don't, but I appreciate the talent that goes into it. The work and talent that go into any hobby are something to be appreciated, at least to me."
He gave another smile since he wasn't fond of overly serious or deep conversations. He decided to change the subject of questions and paused for a moment. Brontë looked to his MP3 player that lay on the bed. He hoped that listening to music during their time together wouldn't be a problem.
"Does it bother you when people listen to music? Not loud, just when they have their headphones on."
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Posted: Sun Nov 23, 2008 6:23 pm
"Singing is very powerful. It is deeply respected in my homeland. As is music of any sort." He nodded slowly to Bronte. "No, it doesn't bother me. I will be playing my harmonica. If it does not bother you." Canaan did indeed live on the reservation. Or, he had, anyway. It was in Northern California. Humboldt County, to be exact. Of course, there were no longer forced reservations in the united states, but some natives chose to live there anyway, where they could govern themselves. Where else would they find people like them? Nowhere.
He of course knew what an mp3 player was, as well as headphones, however, he'd never had one before. "What is it like?" He pointed at the mp3 player. There was only a stereo at the auto shop back home.
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Posted: Mon Nov 24, 2008 5:44 pm
"That's good since I'm sure you will hear me playing it on my MP3 player a good deal of the time. I was raised around opera and the performing arts. I haven't heard anyone play the harmonica in a long time, but music of any kind doesn't bother me. I'm always interested in hearing new types of music."
Brontë laughed at his own words and his cheeks turned slightly red. He wasn't used to talking about his own preferences so much. In the past, he had been more focused on his own imagination, but he was hoping here he could change that and become more involved with the people right in front of him and not those that were in his head.
"Oh! My MP3 player?"
Brontë picked up the device and handed it to Canaan.
"You can try it out if you want. I don't the volume is too high. It's like having a stereo in your ear I guess, though I doubt that would be very pleasant. I hope you don't mind my taste in music, man. I think that most of it is up beat stuff or opera. Probably some electronica, pop, or rock. Who knows, may you will find something new that you like. That's always great when you find a new song or band that really gets you going!"
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Posted: Tue Nov 25, 2008 9:57 pm
Canaan took the device gently, turning it over in his large hands several times before slowly slipping one of the buds in his ear, hitting the small triangle he knew meant 'play'. The music blasted into his ear, not too loud, and the crease between his brows deepened slightly. It wasn't bad music, something pop, but there was too much going on for him. He was used to more simple, natural tunes. Drums and voices and such. Removing it, he handed it back with a nod. "Thank you."
Glancing about their rather spacious dorm, he blinked at the sight of the stove, his voice vaguely curious. "Do you cook?" Cane did.
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Posted: Tue Dec 02, 2008 6:35 pm
He carefully watched as Canaan used his MP3 player. Brontë hoped the music wouldn't annoy him too much as he almost had his headphones and his MP3 player blasting out some crazy anthem about making it through the day.
"No problem, just let me know if you want to listen to it again. Though, you may have to get my attention since I usually have it playing all the time."
He then got off the bed and started to mess with his bed. He was used to a very comfortable king sized bed, so the twin bed would be something new and he hoped he could actually sleep on it.
"Cook? I can make some stuff. I eat a lot of salad and make tea too. Though, for a while at home I was banned from cooking since I accidentally set off all the smoke alarms in the house. Do you cook? What kind of stuff do you like to make?"
He continued to mess with his bed, removing the covers and examining the sheets for anything unusual.
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Posted: Fri Dec 05, 2008 12:53 am
Cane was back to stretching out on his bed, blue eyes on the ceiling once more. "Venison." A pause, and he smiled, teeth dazzling against his tan skin. "Breads, meat, and such." Simple fare, but very tasty. Perhaps the two would have some sort of meal together in the future.
"You went on a tour?" He wondered what the boy had been shown. Perhaps their tour had focused on different parts of the school. "Mine was with a Science student."
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