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[privilegecheck]

Who| Kankri and Enjolras
What| Venus's boys haven't met yet! This obviously needs to be remedied.
Where| Some place open for brunch!
When| Week 7, before the finale, in the late morning
Warnings/Notes| Textwalls and pretentious articulacy dickwaving, probably.


It's much easier to shove worries away when he has a project, and Kankri finds that his attempts at becoming fluent in the local written language do quite nicely at distracting him from the painful memories of the Arena, and the fear of whenever the next one comes. When another note arrives for him, this time he tries to figure it out himself. Unfortunately, he only manages a few words in the end, and nothing comprehensible.

He's not entirely surprised when he asks for a translation and discovers it's an invitation from Enjolras. From what Venus said, if wives are their equivalent of matesprits, then it stands to reason that Enjolras would want to get to know his quadrantcorner. Doing otherwise would just be asking for unwanted friction on all sides. Neither of them have really interacted with the other so far despite the District they share, so Kankri thinks it would be a very good idea indeed to accept, and he politely asks one of the Avoxes if they could write down something to that effect and deliver it to Enjolras in return.

He's at the appointed place early, and so he sits and has a cup of something called "chai" - he tried the humans' ubiquitous coffee and found it bitter and repugnant, so he's been trying new beverages every time he goes out - while he spreads out his learn-to-read books and his papers to write on. Some are covered in copious notes in an angular script (Kankri's own native tongue), while some are in halting English, mostly singular letters repeated over and over for practice.

Kankri is laboring carefully over a g when Enjolras arrives, and is far too absorbed in his work to notice.

Comments

[orestes]

"Your handwriting is very small," he says in lieu of a true greeting. Enjolras isn't sure when he stopped bothering with the niceties of Capitol life, but he doesn't miss them. They're an unnecessary burden even if he doesn't already really know the Troll. They're acquainted, but not familiar, having passed each other on numerous occasions but never spoken a word. It's true, at least. Kankri's handwriting is small, if labored and almost childlike. Enjolras doesn't want to consider the pains of learning a new writing system. English is bad enough as it is.

Absently, he takes the seat across from Kankri, poring over the menu left carelessly on the table in front of him. He'd had no real agenda in calling this meeting, no pressing issue he wished to discuss. If anything, this is reconnaissance for the next Arena and a courtesy toward Venus. He's learned well enough to trust her opinion of people in spite of his aversion to them, but even if he hadn't, Kankri proved himself well enough already. And unlike Venus, Enjolras has absolutely nothing against the boy's pacifist tendencies. "Do you find reading or writing to be more difficult? I still cannot spell very well in English and it bothers me. I have to double check my work as if I was a schoolboy."

[privilegecheck]

"Honestly, I can't make heads or tails of it at all yet," he replies, finishing the g and starting on an a. If Enjolras cared to look, he'd see that Kankri is writing from right to left. (No wonder he's confused.)

Then he remembers why he's here and looks up guiltily. Right, they were going to have food. Hastily he closes his book, stacks it and his papers neatly, and tucks them away in his bag. "It is frustrating, particularly when I was very proficient in reading and writing at home. And I'm afraid I'm going to need you to read out the menu for me as a result. I hope it's not too much trouble."

After a moment's thought, he adds, "And I may need you to tell me what exactly some of the foods are."

[orestes]

"Not at all." Enjolras' reply is pointedly mild. It's hard not to question or criticize just how utterly foreign Kankri seems. His eyes are grey like his skin and the golden yellow horns peak out of his hair menacingly. It's bizarre and unsettling, even after the various horrors inflicted on them in Panem.

"This restaurant is very good for breakfast. Do you have a preference? Something you know you usually like?" It's small talk which they should both honestly be thankful for. It lessened the burden of having to organically construct a conversation, to address why they were both actually gathered. "Venus likes the fruit salad. I like the eggs benedict, though that may be an acquired taste. What is your language like? English borrows quite liberally from French and Greek, so I suppose I should be grateful for that."

[privilegecheck]

Kankri shakes his head. "None of the food here is much like it was at home. Most trolls eat much more meat than it looks like you humans do, but I try to take such things in moderation, to lessen the burden I'm placing on the environment." He looks very pleased with himself about that. "A lot of the things I've tried here have been nice, though."

He leans over and studies the menu, but unfortunately most of it still doesn't make any sense at all. It's just ink blots to him. He sighs, and settles back in his seat, considering Enjolras' question.

"The meanings of most of our words and the way we structure sentences translates quite easily. But as you can see, our writing appears to be quite different. And our spoken language bears no resemblance to yours at all."

And to demonstrate this, he starts to talk at Enjolras in chirps and clicks, sounding somewhat like a cricket.

[orestes]

"I see..." He says uneasily, choosing to focus his attention instead on the menu. It's not talking, it's noise. At least, in Enjolras' assessment. Despite his best efforts at diplomacy, the disapproval and general distaste probably reads on his face. German is more attractive if only for the fact that it's truly discernible as a language and not... Some sort of crude bodily function.

"If you like meat, you might like the steak and eggs combination. It is a little heavy for my taste, too American, honestly, but I'm sure they do it well." If language is poor fodder for smalltalk, surely food will suffice instead. Absently, he waves down a waitress. The sooner they begin their meal, the sooner it can be over, and in the meantime, the it will provide a decent enough distraction. "I will ask for a pot of coffee as well."

Because that's what he assumes Kankri's drinking. That's what everyone drinks.

"I grew up speaking French and Gascon, which is a cousin of sorts to Provinçal. When I began school in Paris they insisted we learn English, but I was never very good at it. My Latin is also quite poor, but I read Greek well. That is a troublesome language. None of the verbs are regular, as they say." He closed the menu, venturing another somewhat furtive look across the table. He might never actually be used to the look of Trolls. "Do all of your people speak the same language, or are there dialects?"

[privilegecheck]

"You drink that much of it?" Kankri blinks, surprised. "I tried it and found it much too bitter."

But ah, yes, more interesting discussions of their respective cultures. "There's a standardized, planetwide language, but there are several dialects and variants, yes. Most people grow up with a few, but there are some which are quite difficult in comparison to others. I have a friend who insists on speaking her own dialect almost all the time, and while I can make out a good bit of it with concentration and thought, there's only one member of our little group who really understands everything she says."

[orestes]

Dialects made more sense. In a way, each of the Romance languages were like dialects of each other. Very far removed, of course, but not without a mutual base and the similarities that comes with it.

"Does that not bother her?" The question is entirely genuine, though purposefully neutral in the way in which it's posed. It would bother Enjolras, certainly. His English isn't half bad anymore but the delicate nuances he sometimes misses bother him, he can't imagine stubbornly rejecting fluent communication altogether.

Not wanting to seem too intrigued, however, he moves disinterestedly about fixing his coffee. "The water in Paris was very dangerous, and so I became use to drinking coffee or wine. I dislike wine before a certain time of day, and the coffee here is not unpleasant. I drink it because it reminds me of home. And because I sometimes have trouble sleeping at night."

[privilegecheck]

Kankri shrugs. "If anything, she seems to enjoy it," he replies. "I'm not sure why she takes such delight in not being understood, but it's certainly deliberate. She'll speak a crude approximation of standard dialect if she truly wants to say something most of our friends will comprehend. To be honest, she's rather crass, so I think she just enjoys being able to say what she likes without people being offended by her. And I think she likes having an air of mystery about her."

He watches Enjolras prepare his drink with mild interest. "An interesting adaptation to adversity, and I can certainly appreciate wanting to remind oneself of one's roots. I only wish I could do the same. Well, is there anything you can recommend besides that? I've been trying various drinks they've made available to me. Perhaps a tea? I like those."

[orestes]

"You sound English." He says, shifting a bit in his seat. It's a joke, but it may or may not translate appropriately given the linguistic precipice between them. Well, that, and the fact that Enjolras can acknowledge that he possess a certain amount of charisma, but it has never managed to work itself into a fully developed sense of humor.

"That is to say, tea is a popular drink in a country close to my own. I have never been to England or any of her cousins, but the stereotype persists. I like an Indian tea, the name of which I could not begin to tell you in French let alone in English." He pauses, taking a sip of the coffee and wincing slightly at the heat. The taste isn't unpleasant but the liquid itself is hot enough to burn all the way down his throat and it takes him a second to recover. "There is a... Complication of presence in this world, I suppose you could say. From everything I have read, we are nearly 2000 years in my future, if we are still in my world at all. The tea trade in India was hardly developed at all when I lived in Paris. Here they have specific names that I never bothered to learn. Tea itself was exotic enough for us, I suppose. What else have you tried? Perhaps I can be more helpful on another topic."

[privilegecheck]

Kankri shrugs. "I wouldn't know anything of that. I haven't the context for any human culture besides this one. Though from what I understand they're quite varied? Which I suppose makes sense, considering the stark contrast between my culture and Alternia's."

He taps a finger to his lip as he thinks over what he's had so far. "Well, I've had cider, and cocoa, and something called chai. They were all quite nice. Very warm."

[orestes]

"We are varied, but we allow those variations to rule our perceptions of each other rather than taking them as the strengthening agent which they could be." There's an instinct in humanity to create an other to hold power over, and it is something almost invariably determined by power. Nationalism, racism, and sexism seem less toxic concepts, mere byproducts of the fierce choke hold on power with which some men or classes of men seem so obsessed. Enjolras takes another sip of his coffee as he allows himself to ponder on Kankri's list and his own less lighthearted statements. He has, after all, been letting his perceptions of the trolls rule his opinions on the young man. Perhaps what is true of Initiate had no bearing on what is true of Kankri.

"You prefer warm drinks, then? Venus likes smoothies, and those are sweet like everything else you listed, but very cold if they are prepared properly." And on a certain level, Enjolras finds the smoothies less enjoyable than the fruits themselves, but that probably had more to do with the novelty fresh fruit still holds for him. "I confess that I am very boring with the things I drink. Water, since clean water is apparently abundant here. Coffee, typically, or tea. Wine if I am in a particular mood, but I shouldn't think to suggest that to you. Venus would have my head, and there would be terrible things said about me corrupting the younger Tributes. It can, however, be served warm."

[privilegecheck]

"I do." He smiles slightly. "Where I'm from, I'm accustomed to having a warmer body temperature than everyone else. I've always caught cold easily as a result, and in any case this place is so very cold that I find the warmth comforting."

Besides, it's nice having hot food and warm drinks after eating stale pastries and drinking tap water for weeks. As much as he disapproves of the Capitol's excesses, Kankri can't help partaking in some.

[orestes]

On their face, Enjolras would argue that there’s nothing wrong with the luxuries provided by the Capitol, so long as the needs of the people are accommodated. The problem arises in that they are clearly not, not when the Districts are purportedly starving. That said, luxury itself isn’t the issue as much as institutionalized inequality.

“I see.” He takes a sip of his coffee. There are a dozen things he could ask about alternate species and Kankri’s culture, but they’re all a little overwhelming at present. Beyond that, he probably wouldn’t know what to do with the answers. Yes, he needs the buffer, needs the moment of consideration it grants him.

“Where I am from, we wore more clothes, generally speaking.” There’s a certain chill that Enjolras finds to existence here, but for him it has less to do with the cold itself, and more to do with the change in norms of dress. Gone, apparently, are the days when one needed a shirt, trousers, waistcoat, jacket, coat, cravat, and hat to be properly dressed. T-shirts and jeans may be wonderful for their convenience, but they leave one unaccustomed to such things feeling a little revealed on occasion.