Enoch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
warriorscribe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-11-23 02:20 pm
warriorscribe) wrote in towerofanimus2012-11-23 02:20 pm
Entry tags:
All that is familiar is foreign (backdated to the 20th)(Language: Alternian)
Characters: Enoch and anyone
Setting: Room 3-18; Floor 5, Nov 20
Format: Starting in prose, but I'll match you!
Summary: Enoch wakes up and happens to notice he can't read his own language anymore! Also may or may not figure out the concepts of "friend" and "enemy" are now a single word depending on the turn of conversation.
Warnings: None yet! (but possibly language, depending on who tags in)
Room 3-18
There was only one language in his time, in his world. So it took him completely by surprise when his position in his sleep pushed the card Armaros had given him halfway out of his pocket, and when he looked at it...he didn't recognize the words. Logically, he knew they read my hero, but the letters that had been so familiar to him, that he had been taught, that he had written all his life, were alien.
Worry slowly dawning on his face, he slid out of bed so fast he took his sheets with him, and trailed them a step or two on his way to his chest. He hurriedly opened it and pulled one of his Meridian journals out of the bundle he'd left them in since the whale attack. All of it was gibberish. Vaguely familiar in shape, but unrecognizable.
He closed the book and the trunk, and sat on top of it, staring at the card, as if looking at it long enough would make the letters more familiar to him. He couldn't even remember the mnemonic song his father had taught him, that he'd taught every child he'd raised, repeated over and over across his centuries-long journey...
"Why?" he wondered aloud, not realizing his language was that of another world's entirely.
Floor 5
The NPCs at the security station were no more understandable even now that his language wasn't even his own. Not being able to understand what anyone else was saying, when there was no precedent for him, was jarring. Eventually, he meandered to the outer ring and sat down next to a viewfinder, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. Eventually, his gaze traveled up to it, lingered, and then returned to the floor. Someone had painted over every one of these when he'd first managed to wonder what they were, and between this and the fact that the lenses were shaped and positioned for a pair of eyes, Enoch assumed they were trying to protect people from whatever they did. It was probably for the best he not look, and just stay here where there weren't very many people talking. Maybe if he waited long enough, he'd hear someone he could understand.
Setting: Room 3-18; Floor 5, Nov 20
Format: Starting in prose, but I'll match you!
Summary: Enoch wakes up and happens to notice he can't read his own language anymore! Also may or may not figure out the concepts of "friend" and "enemy" are now a single word depending on the turn of conversation.
Warnings: None yet! (but possibly language, depending on who tags in)
Room 3-18
There was only one language in his time, in his world. So it took him completely by surprise when his position in his sleep pushed the card Armaros had given him halfway out of his pocket, and when he looked at it...he didn't recognize the words. Logically, he knew they read my hero, but the letters that had been so familiar to him, that he had been taught, that he had written all his life, were alien.
Worry slowly dawning on his face, he slid out of bed so fast he took his sheets with him, and trailed them a step or two on his way to his chest. He hurriedly opened it and pulled one of his Meridian journals out of the bundle he'd left them in since the whale attack. All of it was gibberish. Vaguely familiar in shape, but unrecognizable.
He closed the book and the trunk, and sat on top of it, staring at the card, as if looking at it long enough would make the letters more familiar to him. He couldn't even remember the mnemonic song his father had taught him, that he'd taught every child he'd raised, repeated over and over across his centuries-long journey...
"Why?" he wondered aloud, not realizing his language was that of another world's entirely.
Floor 5
The NPCs at the security station were no more understandable even now that his language wasn't even his own. Not being able to understand what anyone else was saying, when there was no precedent for him, was jarring. Eventually, he meandered to the outer ring and sat down next to a viewfinder, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. Eventually, his gaze traveled up to it, lingered, and then returned to the floor. Someone had painted over every one of these when he'd first managed to wonder what they were, and between this and the fact that the lenses were shaped and positioned for a pair of eyes, Enoch assumed they were trying to protect people from whatever they did. It was probably for the best he not look, and just stay here where there weren't very many people talking. Maybe if he waited long enough, he'd hear someone he could understand.