Post by Elysia O'Broin on Mar 2, 2011 14:05:13 GMT -5
"À, Á, Â, Ã, Ä..." she recited quietly to herself in the empty classrom. It was early in the morning, far too early for the teacher and any of the less industrious students to start trickling in, sleepy eyed and less than thrilled to be in a class for a language that left an odd taste in most mouths. There was an oral quiz later; she'd caught wind of the teacher (what was his name, Cato?) deciding to make them translate an excerpt from something about human rights and had to snort at the idea. Not only did most of the students in even the advanced class have trouble reading Cyrillic, but the idea of making them translate something about human rights...well, it was down right laughable. "Å, ¨, Æ, Ç, È, É..."
Elly paused, wondering why she even bothered practicing the Russian alphabet when she could almost pass for a native speaker at this point. It had been so long since she'd picked up the language...probably even before she had been sent here. At first she'd only used the curse words; it had been great fun to call her mother a øëþõà and her father îáìàí ñâîëî÷ü (among other things) for a while, but her interest had waned when she realized how uncreative she was being. Realizing how pretty the language itself was when spoken fluently and in complete sentence, she'd quickly eaten up any dictionary and text book she could get her hands on. Lullabies and folk songs were practiced until perfect, oral drills every morning, memorization, reading books in Cyrillic...she had gotten so good that she was nearly indicernable from the natives.
Even if there were still hints of her accent, she was better than most college students and wondered why she bothered taking it at a high school level when she could basically teach the class.
Sighing, Elly sat up in her seat and caught the book she'd had resting on her face. The name Anna Karenina glared up at her in sweeping Cyrillic, elegant and pretty. And completely incomprehensible to anyone but her and a few of the teachers in the school. She ran her fingers over it lovingly, smelling the leather and feeling the frayed edges of pages that had been dog-eared by past owners; it was an old print from the early nineteen-hundreds. Certainly not an original, but as close as she was going to get what with how expensive they were. Vaguely she wondered why she had brought it with her; more then once she had had to replace pieces of her collection because of thieves and bullies, but she could never bring herself to leave her books in her room when she was in the middle of reading them.
Besides, she was especially careful with anything written before the nineteen-sixties, so as she wrapped it back up in the swatch of cloth lying on the desk, she practiced what she would say for the test that day.
"Âñå ëþäè ðîæäàþòñÿ ñâîáîäíûìè è ðàâíûìè â ñâîåì äîñòîèíñòâå è ïðàâàõ. Îíè íàäåëåíû ðàçóìîì è ñîâåñòüþ è äîëæíû ïîñòóïàòü â îòíîøåíèè äðóã äðóãà â äóõå áðàòñòâà," she hummed. The words flowed off her tongue as if she had written them herself and she repeated them two more times while she stowed her book somewhere safe before she grew quiet. Her hands traced patterns in the grain of the fake wood. "All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood," Elly translated on a sad sigh.
What a horrible thing to make delinquents say in what was for all intents a detention facility.
Elly paused, wondering why she even bothered practicing the Russian alphabet when she could almost pass for a native speaker at this point. It had been so long since she'd picked up the language...probably even before she had been sent here. At first she'd only used the curse words; it had been great fun to call her mother a øëþõà and her father îáìàí ñâîëî÷ü (among other things) for a while, but her interest had waned when she realized how uncreative she was being. Realizing how pretty the language itself was when spoken fluently and in complete sentence, she'd quickly eaten up any dictionary and text book she could get her hands on. Lullabies and folk songs were practiced until perfect, oral drills every morning, memorization, reading books in Cyrillic...she had gotten so good that she was nearly indicernable from the natives.
Even if there were still hints of her accent, she was better than most college students and wondered why she bothered taking it at a high school level when she could basically teach the class.
Sighing, Elly sat up in her seat and caught the book she'd had resting on her face. The name Anna Karenina glared up at her in sweeping Cyrillic, elegant and pretty. And completely incomprehensible to anyone but her and a few of the teachers in the school. She ran her fingers over it lovingly, smelling the leather and feeling the frayed edges of pages that had been dog-eared by past owners; it was an old print from the early nineteen-hundreds. Certainly not an original, but as close as she was going to get what with how expensive they were. Vaguely she wondered why she had brought it with her; more then once she had had to replace pieces of her collection because of thieves and bullies, but she could never bring herself to leave her books in her room when she was in the middle of reading them.
Besides, she was especially careful with anything written before the nineteen-sixties, so as she wrapped it back up in the swatch of cloth lying on the desk, she practiced what she would say for the test that day.
"Âñå ëþäè ðîæäàþòñÿ ñâîáîäíûìè è ðàâíûìè â ñâîåì äîñòîèíñòâå è ïðàâàõ. Îíè íàäåëåíû ðàçóìîì è ñîâåñòüþ è äîëæíû ïîñòóïàòü â îòíîøåíèè äðóã äðóãà â äóõå áðàòñòâà," she hummed. The words flowed off her tongue as if she had written them herself and she repeated them two more times while she stowed her book somewhere safe before she grew quiet. Her hands traced patterns in the grain of the fake wood. "All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood," Elly translated on a sad sigh.
What a horrible thing to make delinquents say in what was for all intents a detention facility.
