Jun 01 08:02:55 108 PA - Language Barrier, Both Ways
From Chronicles
Jun 01 08:02:55 108 PA.
MAIN STREET NORTH
Summer's heat has crept into the weather this fine June afternoon. The sun is brilliant and bright overhead, with only a few puffy white clouds drifting across the sky. There is, at least, some breeze to be felt to stir the leaves and lend some measure of cooling to the temperature. An odd sight, perhaps, is the unusual pair wandering down the street. A great white polar bear, his fur a snowy white like the tundra that he's from, comes walking along the street. Next to him is a small Inuit woman, feeling the heat even after living here for as long as what she has. The pair of them seem headed somewhat from the city, making their way towards the park. Lifting her left hand, Monique brushes a bit of hair from her face, then reaches out her right hand to lightly pat the bear's leg nearest to her. She speaks softly in her native tongue, looking up at the bear briefly before bringing her attention back to where they're headed towards.
Perhaps not quite as odd a sight, but admittedly perhaps still unusual is a very large man moving slowly north along Main Street. The kind of motion that indicates that a person has a destination, but isn't terribly worried about getting there. This one particular very large man is hauling on his back one equally large bag of some kind of plate steel. A lot of it. His eyes continue to search the population that passes by, as if much of it is new to him. Not the total confusion of a babe, but interest. Otherwise, he is silent, just slowly moving. The giant bear and short girl do however grab his attention enough so that he turns his wandering path in more of a straight-line motion. Despite his size, despite his peaceful demeanor, he seems to be no lumbering fool. Not graceful, but smooth. Just also large and quiet. The girl and her bear - interesting. He moves closer.
None of the businesses, interestingly enough, seem to gain her attention. Monique continues along her way, still heading towards the entrance of the park. The great white bear stops, exhaling a rumble of sound, and he shakes himself from the tip of his nose right down to the short tail he has. The small Inuit woman stops as well, stepping around and in front of the great white bear, lifting her left hand to lightly stroke her fingers along the animal's black nose. He lowers his head, whuffing a breath and giving her a nudge, and she lifts her right hand to rub one of his cheeks. Talking to him softly in her native Inuit language, there seems to be a deeper sort of communication between the pair than merely that.
The large fellow with shoulder-length dark, wavy hair falls in at a polite distance. Perhaps a little close for polite distance, but unlikely to seem as if he means to be crowding. His face screws up a bit as he looks at the two, then grunts out in a monotone, "Bol'shoi belyi medved?" Then using his hands to spread them apart in front of his chest, he seems to work on words again before, "Beeg. Beahr beeg. No seen. Kak vy nazyvaetes?" The man looks... hopeful.
It is the bear's attention which the large man earns first. The great white polar bear exhales a rumble that's part warning to the small shaman standing in front of him, and he shifts his position to put himself more in between the two of them. Not entirely so, however, and so Monique is still given the space to be able to look to the large man herself. She blinks at the man with a fair measure of confusion, not understanding any of the first words spoken by him. Yet the next, she does give a small nod. "Yes. Tornaq big. More big than normal," she says softly, a thoughtful tone to her voice. She blinks a little at the question that she doesn't understand, her brow furrowing a little bit, and then she faintly shakes her head. "I sorry. I not understand what say," she adds, her chin ducking a little bit.
Pavel frowns apologetically and gestures to his mouth and head with his right hand. "Eengleesh vahry bahd. Russian, Euro. Eengleesh bahd. No good talk." The large man rearranges his bag of metal on his back, then says what may be one of the only phrases that he can say clearly, even if they retain an accent. "I eem called Pavel. New to heehr." Then, in perhaps an attempt at a further greeting his gestures toward the bear, pointing rather strongly. "MED-ved." Then he rubs his chest and motions somewhat at the bear's fluff. "Bel-YI. Ees... ees.. cohlor. Da. Coholr."
Monique tilts her head slightly to one side as she studies him, her brow furrowing a little bit as she tries to understand. She does, at least, and a small smile touches her lips. "My English not best. Better than when first get here, but... not best. Speak Inuk better," she says, giving a small nod, watching him. "I Monique. This Tornaq," she says, lightly patting the bear's fur on his chest when she speaks of him. "We from far North," she adds, giving a small nod to the big man. "Is good to meet, Pavel," she says, keeping her hand on the great white bear. The bear lowers his head, leaning a little towards Pavel and gaining the man's scent without getting too close at the same time.
"Da, da. Pavel. Monique, Tornaq. Tornaq laheek 'Monique,' 'Pavel?' Tornaq beeg MED-ved." Pavel shrugs apologetically. "Noht know north. Russia, Federation of Magic -" the last official pronoun is ground out as someone who doesn't really understand it, but knows how to say it. He then looks around and ducks his head a bit. "Thees ceety noht good. Woman, try steel vhen I heer, first hour. How long Monique.. heer? Tornaq? Ees vahry far?"
"Many not know North, not go there. Is very cold, very far," Monique says softly, her tone holding a thoughtful cast to it. She rubs the fur of the great white bear, and the beast seems to remain calm, lowering his nose to touch her shoulder. "City have some bad, some good. Like everything, is not all one or other, but some both. Dregs bad, worst in city. Other places better. We here for long time... many moons," she admits, giving a small nod. "What medved?" she asks, confused and curious all at once.
Pavel frowns - at himself. "Medved, ees.. ees Tornaq." He makes some gestures that frame the bear. "Ees.. ees.. b-ah-r." He needs to sound out the word as if he's almost never said it, perhaps not even heard it much. Then a nod. "Ceety, ees beeg ceety. Beeg wohman, try steel, I new, hour. Ees vahry hard, no tahlk good. Hahrd say 'need thees.' Monique naheece. Other naheece, Rasputin. Galvin. Other no naheece. Weesh say Russia, fahmily. Boot no. Heer now. Mehk good." Once more Pavel shifts the huge bundle of metal whose weight he doesn't even seem to notice. "Whaht Monique do een ceety?"
Monique takes a moment to look to the bundle of metal being carried, her curiosity drawn by it when it's shifted. Yet her gaze returns to the big man carrying it. "Yes, is big city," she affirms, giving a nod of agreement to that. "Have met Rasputin, he nice. And Galvin, yes. Good people. Many good people, many nice people. Some bad, others very bad," she muses, a thoughtful cast in her voice. "I hunt, outside city. Trade some of what kill for things. Sometimes, trade heal for things. Trade medicine," she explains, her brow furrowing a little bit. Tornaq remains beside her, keeping his peace but remaining ever vigilant to the surroundings.
Pavel finally laughs, that very deep, deep laugh of his that rumbles just this side of an earthquake. Then, "Pavel no hunt. No vahry good. People breeng Pavel food, Pavel mahke theengs for people. Ees trade. Good trade, hahppy." It then is probably fairly obvious on his face that he's withholding information, even though he allows as he points over his shoulder, "Mehtal. Pavel blahksmeeth." A smile touches at the corners of her lips when he laughs, and she gives a small nod to what he says afterward. "Is good be happy. And good, make trade. When go hunt next time, will bring back something for you," she promises, giving a small nod to the big man. Tornaq lowers his nose, touching her shoulder and giving her a slight nudge, shifting his weight somewhat. "I need for go, make promise to meet someone. We speak more of make trade. Tornaq will help find," Monique says, a smile lighting her features.
Nod. "Good trahde. Monique food, Pavel mahke... food peeker." The man makes a motion as if silverware is being used. He looks past the girl, and bear, then says, "Pavel need go. Meet Galvin, mahke place. I see Monique ageen. Da. Do svidaniya!" He then rather abruptly moves off. In reality, he's quite the lively fellow, after all.
