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xp_logs2011-10-03 09:02 pm
x-korvus.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2011-10-03 09:02 pm
Korvus and Matt: Idiopathic Arythmia
After Korvus' first day of classes he has a confrontation with Matt.
Korvus sat in the boy's suite's common room. He was perched on a chair near the window for the best light as he read from an e-reader, which he had acquired from the library, for the first time. Nearby was a note pad and a pen which he had scribbled across to include a number of song names and bands from what he had heard on the radio playing softly near by. He wasn't sure where his suite mates went after class but he was enjoying the alone time he had to get accustomed to the very different environment.
Coming back from classes, Matt opened the door slowly, unsure what to expect from his new suitemate. He knew the other guy was there from his heartbeat. Stepping inside, he dropped his backpack on the couch before going to get something to drink. "Hey," he greeted the other guy as he grabbed a cup and got some water. Matt moved with confidence, his cane folded in his back pocket, though it was clear from how he moved as he got the drink that he was blind.
"Greetings." Korvus looked up from the screen in front of him to Matt while reaching to turn the music playing off completely. "I hope you found today's classes to be engaging."
Engaging? Really? Matt bit his tongue. He wasn't supposed to be snarky, even if this guy was a total tool. Why did he have to share a suite with a guy who sounded like a textbook? A really, really nerdy textbook. "It was school," he replied noncommittally. He had liked today's discussions on things, he liked school in general, but he wasn't about to tell this guy that. Then he would probably want to discuss things like the socio-political ramifications of Nepal or something. No thanks.
"It couldn't have been anything else." Korvus offered, confused by the place of the tautology in the conversation. "What is it that American students do after classes have closed for the day?" He hoped that showing interest in Matt's culture would help them find common ground. Having been tutored in India, the 'new guy' also lacked experience with any school schedule or the casual social interactions afterward.
"Watch TV," Matt replied. "Do homework. Avoid doing homework," he grinned lopsidedly, taking a sip of water, "There's a gym and stuff. I guess play video games, but that's not something I'm into," he had a new book from the braille library he was almost done with too. There was always reading, but he wasn't going to share that. "Whatever interests you."
"I was not issued any homework assignments and I do not want to use the gym until I have had someone familiar with the weight systems to show me the proper way to work on the scale of tons. I also do not play video games and I do not know good American television shows to watch. I have been reading." Korvus expected ridicule from Matt when he said what he had been doing. His suite mate seemed caught up in perceptions of social acceptability. He had read that was common in High School in America.
Matt never used the weights in the gym, he preferred the high bar, parallel bar, uneven bars and rings. "Reading what?" Matt asked, ignoring all the excuses for why Korvus wasn't doing other things. Nothing was stopping the other guy from flipping TV channels and seeing what interested him. Matt was pretty sure that watching TV was probably considered too plebian or something. The other guy came off as a stuck up prick.
"It is about American idiom. Mister Sefton suggested it so that I may more effectively communicate with my peer group. I know you are among a number of people who find my 'classroom English' to be off-putting." Korvus offered, so they could address the conflict. "I was instructed by tutors and expected to speak Hindi at home. I do not have experience with informal English."
Leaning against the counter, Matt crossed his arms and turned towards Korvus. He couldn't see the other man, but his gaze was direct despite his blindness and his glasses. "You talk like you've got a stick up your ass," Matt replied. "Like you're better than everyone else. And you're not, tutors or whatever else," he was a poor foster kid who had gone from almost nothing to nothing. And he was damn well not going to take some smug, rich guy as a suitemate.
"I have never said I am better than anyone else. I believe that to be impossible when speaking in regards to ethical worth. I requested assistance with colloquialisms upon my arrival. I anticipated that an overly formal syntax would carry cultural implications." Korvus offered in his defense. "Possibly more to the point, I no longer have a family or any assets. The Professor was kind enough to agree to support me."
"It's implied with your phrasing," Matt retorted, "And see, you don't 'request assistance with colloquialisms' you 'ask for help with slang.' And we're not talking about ethical worth," he wasn't stupid, even if he wasn't rich. "And I don't care if you go swimming in money or you're being supported, you come from money. It's different. You're still a rich guy in your head regardless of your bank account."
"If we're talking about financial worth than I am, at best, as poor as you. My apologies that you do not appreciate the way I speak but I have not had time to adjust to American culture. It is not my goal to antagonize or upset you. I ask that you give yourself a chance to learn about me instead of assuming I conform to the cultural stereotype of what a rich person is." Korvus offered again.
"Alright. So tell me about you," he stated, unimpressed with what he had seen so far.
"You already know I was born and raised in India and that my family was affluent. My father was a Lieutenant General in the Army. He discovered government sponsored genocide in Sri Lanka and attempted to intervene. I was on an aid mission to Darfur at the time, my father was charged with treason and he, along with every other member of the Rook'shir family, was executed." Korvus was quickly giving the abridged version. He wasn't happy with the tension as he relayed something so personal but he felt obligated to attempt to calm his suite mate. "I went back to India where I was captured and shipped to Madripoor as a slave."
"And yet you never learned slang?" Matt asked. It wasn't that he didn't feel bad for the guy, he knew nothing about modern slavery, but it wasn't such a great thing historically. "Really?" He was trying to focus more on the matter at hand, Korvus' language issues. "Sucks though, about your dad. Mine died too. Executed, mob style," he didn't know if the other guy would understand what that meant.
"Not in American English. My mother was from England and I was only allowed to speak Hindi at home except during English lessons. Most other Indians are much more proficient in casual conversation." Korvus further explained. He also knew what the mob was, even though he didn't catch the exact reference. "I am sorry your father fell victim to organized crime. I too was given over to a criminal empire."
Matt shrugged, "Is he a victim if he was a part of it?" he asked. This wasn't something he told most people. In fact, he didn't think anyone knew that he knew. Even his father had thought that he had hidden his involvement in organized crime from his son. "But see, this is what I'm talking about. Your book is all fine and whatever, but you gotta try to talk like other people around you. So my dad didn't 'fall victim to organized crime.' He got 'killed by the mob.' You can say that and I won't get offended." Matt waited, expectantly.
"I do not believe that being a victim of organized crime and being a participant in organized crime are mutually exclusive." Korvus offered, silence following as Matt waited for the repetition of what he had said. The foreigner had missed the cue.
"No," Matt shook his head, "Not organized crime. You say 'the mob.' Remember? You're trying to learn slang, right? So copy what I use." When had he gone from hating the guy to trying to teach him slang again?
"I do not believe being a victim of the mob and being a participant in the mob are mutually exclusive." Korvus repeated.
"There you go!" Matt smiled, pleased, then went to rummage through a cabinet for a snack. "You hungry?" he asked, opening various packages to sniff what was inside.
"I am hungry." Korvus agreed, picking up Matt's phrasing again as best he could. "Though I do not eat meat."
"Well, I do. Lucky for you though, it's not food time. Just snack time, so meat is unlikely. Can you drive?" Matt was in the mood to go somewhere. He could take the buses but that always took longer than a car.
"I can not. I have not obtained a driver's license." He said regretfully.
That wasn't a big deal. "Do you have any money?" Matt asked, "Cash?"
"Not a Rupee." Korvus knew that was also the wrong answer but it was the truth.
Despite the answer, Matt turned around smiling. That was the first thing that sounded normal from Korvus' mouth since they had met! "Lemme grab my hoodie and phone, then and we can see about getting the bus into town. I'm thinking we need something completely unhealthy and full of sugar." He had money. Matt rarely spent his allowance.
Korvus sat in the boy's suite's common room. He was perched on a chair near the window for the best light as he read from an e-reader, which he had acquired from the library, for the first time. Nearby was a note pad and a pen which he had scribbled across to include a number of song names and bands from what he had heard on the radio playing softly near by. He wasn't sure where his suite mates went after class but he was enjoying the alone time he had to get accustomed to the very different environment.
Coming back from classes, Matt opened the door slowly, unsure what to expect from his new suitemate. He knew the other guy was there from his heartbeat. Stepping inside, he dropped his backpack on the couch before going to get something to drink. "Hey," he greeted the other guy as he grabbed a cup and got some water. Matt moved with confidence, his cane folded in his back pocket, though it was clear from how he moved as he got the drink that he was blind.
"Greetings." Korvus looked up from the screen in front of him to Matt while reaching to turn the music playing off completely. "I hope you found today's classes to be engaging."
Engaging? Really? Matt bit his tongue. He wasn't supposed to be snarky, even if this guy was a total tool. Why did he have to share a suite with a guy who sounded like a textbook? A really, really nerdy textbook. "It was school," he replied noncommittally. He had liked today's discussions on things, he liked school in general, but he wasn't about to tell this guy that. Then he would probably want to discuss things like the socio-political ramifications of Nepal or something. No thanks.
"It couldn't have been anything else." Korvus offered, confused by the place of the tautology in the conversation. "What is it that American students do after classes have closed for the day?" He hoped that showing interest in Matt's culture would help them find common ground. Having been tutored in India, the 'new guy' also lacked experience with any school schedule or the casual social interactions afterward.
"Watch TV," Matt replied. "Do homework. Avoid doing homework," he grinned lopsidedly, taking a sip of water, "There's a gym and stuff. I guess play video games, but that's not something I'm into," he had a new book from the braille library he was almost done with too. There was always reading, but he wasn't going to share that. "Whatever interests you."
"I was not issued any homework assignments and I do not want to use the gym until I have had someone familiar with the weight systems to show me the proper way to work on the scale of tons. I also do not play video games and I do not know good American television shows to watch. I have been reading." Korvus expected ridicule from Matt when he said what he had been doing. His suite mate seemed caught up in perceptions of social acceptability. He had read that was common in High School in America.
Matt never used the weights in the gym, he preferred the high bar, parallel bar, uneven bars and rings. "Reading what?" Matt asked, ignoring all the excuses for why Korvus wasn't doing other things. Nothing was stopping the other guy from flipping TV channels and seeing what interested him. Matt was pretty sure that watching TV was probably considered too plebian or something. The other guy came off as a stuck up prick.
"It is about American idiom. Mister Sefton suggested it so that I may more effectively communicate with my peer group. I know you are among a number of people who find my 'classroom English' to be off-putting." Korvus offered, so they could address the conflict. "I was instructed by tutors and expected to speak Hindi at home. I do not have experience with informal English."
Leaning against the counter, Matt crossed his arms and turned towards Korvus. He couldn't see the other man, but his gaze was direct despite his blindness and his glasses. "You talk like you've got a stick up your ass," Matt replied. "Like you're better than everyone else. And you're not, tutors or whatever else," he was a poor foster kid who had gone from almost nothing to nothing. And he was damn well not going to take some smug, rich guy as a suitemate.
"I have never said I am better than anyone else. I believe that to be impossible when speaking in regards to ethical worth. I requested assistance with colloquialisms upon my arrival. I anticipated that an overly formal syntax would carry cultural implications." Korvus offered in his defense. "Possibly more to the point, I no longer have a family or any assets. The Professor was kind enough to agree to support me."
"It's implied with your phrasing," Matt retorted, "And see, you don't 'request assistance with colloquialisms' you 'ask for help with slang.' And we're not talking about ethical worth," he wasn't stupid, even if he wasn't rich. "And I don't care if you go swimming in money or you're being supported, you come from money. It's different. You're still a rich guy in your head regardless of your bank account."
"If we're talking about financial worth than I am, at best, as poor as you. My apologies that you do not appreciate the way I speak but I have not had time to adjust to American culture. It is not my goal to antagonize or upset you. I ask that you give yourself a chance to learn about me instead of assuming I conform to the cultural stereotype of what a rich person is." Korvus offered again.
"Alright. So tell me about you," he stated, unimpressed with what he had seen so far.
"You already know I was born and raised in India and that my family was affluent. My father was a Lieutenant General in the Army. He discovered government sponsored genocide in Sri Lanka and attempted to intervene. I was on an aid mission to Darfur at the time, my father was charged with treason and he, along with every other member of the Rook'shir family, was executed." Korvus was quickly giving the abridged version. He wasn't happy with the tension as he relayed something so personal but he felt obligated to attempt to calm his suite mate. "I went back to India where I was captured and shipped to Madripoor as a slave."
"And yet you never learned slang?" Matt asked. It wasn't that he didn't feel bad for the guy, he knew nothing about modern slavery, but it wasn't such a great thing historically. "Really?" He was trying to focus more on the matter at hand, Korvus' language issues. "Sucks though, about your dad. Mine died too. Executed, mob style," he didn't know if the other guy would understand what that meant.
"Not in American English. My mother was from England and I was only allowed to speak Hindi at home except during English lessons. Most other Indians are much more proficient in casual conversation." Korvus further explained. He also knew what the mob was, even though he didn't catch the exact reference. "I am sorry your father fell victim to organized crime. I too was given over to a criminal empire."
Matt shrugged, "Is he a victim if he was a part of it?" he asked. This wasn't something he told most people. In fact, he didn't think anyone knew that he knew. Even his father had thought that he had hidden his involvement in organized crime from his son. "But see, this is what I'm talking about. Your book is all fine and whatever, but you gotta try to talk like other people around you. So my dad didn't 'fall victim to organized crime.' He got 'killed by the mob.' You can say that and I won't get offended." Matt waited, expectantly.
"I do not believe that being a victim of organized crime and being a participant in organized crime are mutually exclusive." Korvus offered, silence following as Matt waited for the repetition of what he had said. The foreigner had missed the cue.
"No," Matt shook his head, "Not organized crime. You say 'the mob.' Remember? You're trying to learn slang, right? So copy what I use." When had he gone from hating the guy to trying to teach him slang again?
"I do not believe being a victim of the mob and being a participant in the mob are mutually exclusive." Korvus repeated.
"There you go!" Matt smiled, pleased, then went to rummage through a cabinet for a snack. "You hungry?" he asked, opening various packages to sniff what was inside.
"I am hungry." Korvus agreed, picking up Matt's phrasing again as best he could. "Though I do not eat meat."
"Well, I do. Lucky for you though, it's not food time. Just snack time, so meat is unlikely. Can you drive?" Matt was in the mood to go somewhere. He could take the buses but that always took longer than a car.
"I can not. I have not obtained a driver's license." He said regretfully.
That wasn't a big deal. "Do you have any money?" Matt asked, "Cash?"
"Not a Rupee." Korvus knew that was also the wrong answer but it was the truth.
Despite the answer, Matt turned around smiling. That was the first thing that sounded normal from Korvus' mouth since they had met! "Lemme grab my hoodie and phone, then and we can see about getting the bus into town. I'm thinking we need something completely unhealthy and full of sugar." He had money. Matt rarely spent his allowance.