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Post by Wilhelmina Visser on Oct 12, 2012 13:56:50 GMT -6
| [atrb=border,0,true] [style=border-bottom: 6px #10121b solid; font-family: georgia; font-size: 16px; padding: 1% 2% 1% 2%; text-align: center; margin-left: 30%;]the path of idleness [/style][style=float: left; border-right: 6px #10121b solid; border-bottom: 6px #10121b solid; margin-right: 2%; padding: 180 10 10 10;][style=background: url(http://i262.photobucket.com/albums/ii115/procu/hVJM6-Imgur.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 5px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;] [/style]Did you hear? Did you know? Do you see her?
Look at those clothes? A McKinley Student? Ha!
Does she even eat? A stick I tell you!
Why can’t she even speak normal English? I mean, her name is already weird. Clenching onto the flimsy, plastic tray, Wilhelmina tried to keep herself calm in this new school. And this cafeteria was not helping too many people, too many judging eyes that would get the wrong impression of her. The whispers were not as bad, but people still could notice her for her imperfects - even more so than at McKinley. Yet the ones that had said nothing... they were too interested in their snobbish appeal. Peering out of her left, eye, the Dutch girl found a table - no one. Surprising. A few people bumped into her while she maneuvered through the crowds. From her eyes, it was easy to see who were the McKinley students and who were the Prep ones. One would wear the more high-end clothing, the other would not. Her old classmates were more accepting; students from Prep could care less about her poor life and talk about the material things. Figured from a school rivalry it would still go on - even worse for the freshman that had just gotten into this mess. Snapping out of her thoughts, it was as if Wilhelmina had danced in her head towards the table she had been eying earlier. Wilhelmina placed her tray down as she scoot into the chair. Her eyes went over the area to make sure what was going on. Too make sure no one would sit near her while she got ready. Folding her hands, she glanced at the tray in front of her. Mashed potatoes, beef, and cheese. “Ah. Heerlijk eten ... als thuis. Alleen maar erger.” This plate was not one to make her happy at all. Even her mother’s subpar cooking was better than this, and Wilhelmina could not just barge into the kitchen and make healthy, normal dishes. Scrunching her forehead, she took the fork and jabbed at the potatoes while some of the Prep students looked at the lone girl, afraid of what she said in the Dutch language. Her eyes shot up at them, their heads back down. “Dat’s right. Keep your heed down.” The McKinley student mumbled to herself. She would never make any friends at this school. Two years left, and she...just let it be. During the final two years, it would let her concentrate on her studies. But knowing life, it would throw a curveball. And she would be ready for it. Niek... Whatever that was, it would be from her brother as a challenge. A munch into the potatoes, her blue eyes glared into the plate. If anyone were to come up to her, Wilhelmina’s instinct would come in and punch them in the face. [style=clear: both;] [classy=ooc][style=text-align: right; font-size: 20px; font-family: georgia; padding-right: 6%;]- notes word count;; 485
tags;; Open
notes;; The translation for the dutch is 'Ah. Delicious food... like home. Just worse.'
And fiiiiirsssssssssst post! : )
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Panda Malone
McKinley Students
Sophomore - McKinley[M:0][M:0]
Flower Shop
Posts: 18
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Post by Panda Malone on Oct 12, 2012 21:20:52 GMT -6
Yay, lunch time. Time for a piece of bread! He didn’t really have to eat just that, but it made things easier on the family, so why not. ‘You could always just steal some from somebody.’ I’m not stealing anything from anybody. ‘I was just saying that-‘ No. ‘I was just saying. I wasn’t even being mean about it.’ Shut up. ‘You ever realize that you’re the irritable one during lunch?’ Just shut up. Panda emitted a low growl as he made his way into the cafeteria, through the people who laughed and judged. So what he had patches in his clothes and never had much to eat? So what he wasn’t all big and tall? He was big and tall enough. He was living, he was alive. What’s it matter how he lives? They all ought to just back off is what they ought to do. He didn’t really like the cafeteria here; or maybe he just didn’t like all the people who surrounded him. It was crowded and noisy in here too; as if the noise in his head wasn’t enough the world has to throw more at him when all he needed was a peaceful meal. ‘It’s not even a meal; it’s bread.’ Shut up. ‘I’m trying to be friendly.’ Just shut up. ‘I don’t know why you have to be so mean.’ You’re lucky I am unable to punch you. ‘Woulda killed you first.’ Just please… shut up. ‘Well, okaaaayyy. Why you so irritable, huh?’ Listen, man. One more word… ‘Word.’ Screw you. Now in the middle of the cafeteria, Panda searched for somewhere to sit. Just about every table had a handful of people he didn’t want to be with. There was one table that didn’t have anybody but one, and that but one was still one. He could sit on the floor in a hall somewhere, he supposed. Would he get in trouble? Only if he got caught, perhaps. Well… one person wouldn’t be so bad, right? Didn’t even look like someone who’d given him trouble, so couldn’t be so bad right? Not like he had to sit right next to her, the table was pretty big.
And so Panda continued through the crowd of people, talking, yelling, laughing… Just so much noise. Why all the noise? It was so odd to hear so many people talking, because you only picked up bits and pieces of each conversation as you went by. You could hear some odd things that way. Out of context, a lot of things people said sounded very… very… weird. Let’s use that word, sure. He walked around the table and sat on the other side, not exactly opposite the girl who was already sitting there but close. He reached into the pocket of his torn jeans, catching a glimpse of his own dirty white shirt as he looked down. There were a lot of out-of-place patches on the shirt, but so what? Yeah, sure, he looked “weird” but it was how things had to be. He couldn’t walk around with holes in his shirt all the time. He took the piece of bread out of his pants pocket; a little squished but at least warm. He nibbled on it like a timid little animal, almost as if afraid of eating it. He seemed to take no notice of the person he was sharing the table with, lost in his own thoughts as he took tiny little bites of the bread, one after the other. ‘Hey, you know, someone else is at this table.’ Hey, thanks, I’m not stupid. ‘Well, actually…’ Shut up already. I just want some quiet. ‘…So you came to the cafeteria?’ …Yeah, well… A defeated look spread across his face and he put his head down on the table for a moment as he heard laughter in his head. Even when you’re “nice” you still make fun of me. ‘It’s better than normal, you’re just a complainer.’ With a shake of the head and a sigh, he picked himself back up and continued to nibble away at the bread, as if nothing had ever happened. Of course nothing had. You had to be in his head to know any different.
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Post by Wilhelmina Visser on Oct 14, 2012 14:07:37 GMT -6
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Dipping her potatoes in the gravy she had gotten, Wilhelmina heard the swiving of a chair near her. Pay no attention to it. Her mind told her while she was focusing in on her food. And that she did. Methodical, she ate her food piece by piece until the potatoes were gone and the meat and cheese remained. How fun to notice a difference in food and not the person that was near here. But after five minutes no one else had even decided to come towards this table. However, Wilhelmina’s eyes peaked over at a speaking, judging person yet again. But this time it was not about her but a boy near him
‘Oh, look at him. He must be poor.’ A girl remarked as her friends laughed and jeered with her. A prep student, for sure. No one ever should have to go through the pain of being made fun of like that.
Making her decision, her blue eyes fluttered towards the figure that was at her table. Lucky you did not sit next to me boy. But he was quiet as far as she could tell and being a food... concentratorer like her. Awesome. But she quickly could see what the girls had been making fun of, swiftly.
Patches in clothing. Reminidng her of her parents, the Dutch girl felt sorry for him as she took a piece of meat in her mouth and chewed it. Her father would be the one to comment on just fixing old clothing like the boys and not have a concern what others would think. Her mother on the other hand would only patch clothing up until she had to use a different colored cloth. Bless her mother right now. Wilhelmina scanned the rest of his clothing before focusing in on her food. But it bugged her that this kid’s family was worse than hers.
She had to speak up. Her thick words came from her mouth. “Dus, hoe doe je dat? Hoe sta je de mensen naar je kijken als dat? Oy Vey! Mijn vader zou U loven als zijn zoon als je je kleedt als dat!” Daggers would come at her for speaking a different language. Covering her mouth, she was bashful. Getting it into her head that she needed to use english, the girl repeated herself, in short, and in English this time. “Do you not hate when they do that? Talk about the way you dress.”
She drank some of her beverage before looking over at him. A feeling in her heart made her want to continue speaking about how she felt on the subject. But this boy, Patches, as her mind called him right now, was just quiet as could be. As an emigrant, she could understand. But wanting to talk about it was still in her head. And she Wilhelmina could not shove it out of her mind that like.
Placing her hand on the table, she tilted her head. “Dat gets annoying, ja? No good when dhey, girls or boys, make funny of you.” It was cracking. But she managed to use decent grammar without making her sound like a complete ass.
Rubbing her forehead, she hoped he could understand what she said. Being much too quiet, it went through her head that he probably found her annoying. Patches found her annoying. Just to think of it all. Why are people so...ignorant? America, people are eder quiet or loud... Gah! Peak one!
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tags;; Panda
notes;; *waves*
translations;; 'So, how do you do it? How do you stand the people looking at you like that? Oy vey! My father would praise you as his son as you dress like that!'
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Panda Malone
McKinley Students
Sophomore - McKinley[M:0][M:0]
Flower Shop
Posts: 18
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Post by Panda Malone on Oct 15, 2012 17:32:11 GMT -6
Eh? Panda looked over to the girl he was sharing the table with. He didn’t understand a word of what she’d said, but it sure sounded interesting. He stared curiously, fumbling the bread around in his hands as he did. Then whatever it was was repeated in English, though with an accent. He liked it, it sounded neat. He wished he had some kind of accent. Both of his parents had lost theirs, he kind of wished he could hear them go at it though. “Oh…” he mumbled, only half paying attention as he focused on getting his noisy thoughts to quiet down again. It was very hard to keep up a conversation when the things in your head were always poking around. Especially when you were already in a noisy place. All he really wanted was to eat, but it was just so noisy. But now he had to talk to someone, because not answering would be rude. He didn’t want to be rude. “Well, I don’t know. I used to sock ‘em good if they made fun of me, you know? But I haven’t been here long and I don’t wanna make my mom and my dad upset. It’s sad I guess, cause some of the kids here deserve it more than all the kids back there put together!” ‘Back there’ being the old school, no need to mention it. You never knew how sore a spot it was. He squished the bread a little in his hands as he thought about how much he hated people making fun of his life when the girl brought it up once again, “Yeah, it does get really annoying. I never really liked it. But why would you like it? Oh, well I mean there are some people… but I mean… normally most people don’t like to be made fun of and treated like dirt and all that. Some people just never learned how to walk in another’s shoes. Parents always say not to get mad at them, just feel sorry for them. A bit hard though.”
Panda shrugged and looked down at the squished bread in his hands, playing with it a bit as he thought. It wasn’t really good to play with your food though… Would that mean people’d think he was poorly mannered? He wasn’t poorly mannered. When people thought you were poorly mannered they’d blame your parents, and his parents were just about the best. Hey, you heard that accent, right? Where you figure she came from? ‘Like I’d know.’ Well fine… No harm in asking, after all. “And, if you don’t mind me asking. Well, I was never good with languages – my dad says I’m still bad at the only one I speak – Well, I do get mixed up a lot. Oops… I almost went off.” He shrugged and looked down at the table, taking a nibble of squished bread before going on, “What I was gonna ask, what language were you speaking? Where’re you from? I don’t mean it rude like, just curious. You don’t have to answer…” he trailed off nervously but then remembered one last thing he had to say before he could be quiet again, “My name is Panda, by the way.” And now he could be quiet. All that talking and asking, he had to say his name. It’d be rude otherwise!
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Post by Wilhelmina Visser on Oct 16, 2012 17:36:03 GMT -6
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"Neece to meet you Panda." Her first response to an introduction was always an introduction back, if she had not said it first. Wilhelmina put a lock of her hair behind her ear when she tried to think of answers towards his question. There was a good chance he was being rather genuine in his approach to know more about her and her heritage. But Panda had been so warm to explain how he felt about his clothing situation. So, why not. It would not hurt her right now and their was no pain in answering him.
Her blue eyes glistened as she held her hand over her chest in pride of her 'old world' language. "I be Nederland. Or as Emerika peepull say Dutch." Her mind went back to the memories of seeing kilometers upon kilometers of windmills and tulips. Her tiny legs would stop pedalling after so long to sniff and take in the scenery. If she were lucky, the owner of the field would have pucked a tulip for her to have - as just picking one would be against the law. Tilting her head, she hmmed in her seat, forgetting that Panda was here for a moment. Clenching her chest, she took one breath before turning attention back to the boy that was at her table. The McKinley boy.
Scratching the back of her head Wilhelmina grinned. "Et is nice dhere. I mean, US is neece too, but I miss homeland even if dhere was much rain." Bashful, she looked down at her food, unsure if he would be patriotic about the United States or just nonchalant about the whole statement.
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tags;; Panda
notes;; Shoooorttttt....
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