Metronome Member
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- Last Seen: 5 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Metronome
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
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- Metronome 12 yrs ago
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Most Recent Posts
i am currently sitting a tree with an antenna attached to an eagle to get wifi.
Also you guys might not wanna get stuck interacting with isam
my internet connection is kinda limited
i may not be able to post again until Saturday
my internet connection is kinda limited
i may not be able to post again until Saturday
AgniSpirit said
Metronome, Stanley and Amelia are also at Isam's door...
A guy can only handle so much sexy.
let's assume he couldn't see them behind Daniel and other guy.
About the moment Isam opened his door, he was greeted by a bundle of fruit. And behind that, a man. He looked up at the guy, confusion in his brown eyes. Why was this man bringing him fruit? A better question may be why he was doing so in a dress. Isam forced a smile and took the fruits from the tenant.
"Thank you, er, Danielle," Isam said, thoroughly butchering the poor man's name. He looked warily at the other tenant, who seemed to be watching him just as carefully. He turned back to Daniel. "I will...put these in the kitchen, thank you." He turned and headed back into his apartment, bumping the door halfway shut behind him so that they wouldn't follow him. Hopefully.
"Thank you, er, Danielle," Isam said, thoroughly butchering the poor man's name. He looked warily at the other tenant, who seemed to be watching him just as carefully. He turned back to Daniel. "I will...put these in the kitchen, thank you." He turned and headed back into his apartment, bumping the door halfway shut behind him so that they wouldn't follow him. Hopefully.
A couple hours passed as the two sat and chit-chatted. Finally, Brandon got up. "Well, if I don't get home and change clothes, Rhonda might bite my head off. I'm taking her to that fancy Chinese restaurant downtown tonight, and you know how she is about getting all dressed up." Isam chuckled.
"Well she is the boss, after all," He teased. Brandon waved off his remark.
"Yeah, just wait till you get one." They exchanged a few more words and hardy pats on the back before Brandon departed. Isam shut the door behind him and turned too look around at his new apartment. It was a decent place, he supposed. Better than some of the ratholes he'd stayed in. He picked up one the boxes off the floor and began to unpack.
He didn't have much to his name, but what few sentimental items there were held importance to him. There was a picture of him and Brandon from a few years ago, when he'd first came to America. There was a knife given to him as a parting gift, by one of the soldier that had captured him in Iraq. And at the bottom, there was a small wallet sized photo, tattered around the edges, of a woman that- well, it didn't really matter anymore. She was little more than a memory to him now.
When he finished unpacking the box, Isam figured he might as well scope the rest of the place out. He took his key and tucked it away in one of his many pockets and headed out the door. There were several tenants out and about, but he didn't really make an effort to go greet them. He never really got attached to people outside of work; it was too dangerous..
"Well she is the boss, after all," He teased. Brandon waved off his remark.
"Yeah, just wait till you get one." They exchanged a few more words and hardy pats on the back before Brandon departed. Isam shut the door behind him and turned too look around at his new apartment. It was a decent place, he supposed. Better than some of the ratholes he'd stayed in. He picked up one the boxes off the floor and began to unpack.
He didn't have much to his name, but what few sentimental items there were held importance to him. There was a picture of him and Brandon from a few years ago, when he'd first came to America. There was a knife given to him as a parting gift, by one of the soldier that had captured him in Iraq. And at the bottom, there was a small wallet sized photo, tattered around the edges, of a woman that- well, it didn't really matter anymore. She was little more than a memory to him now.
When he finished unpacking the box, Isam figured he might as well scope the rest of the place out. He took his key and tucked it away in one of his many pockets and headed out the door. There were several tenants out and about, but he didn't really make an effort to go greet them. He never really got attached to people outside of work; it was too dangerous..
Isam just sits off in the corner and wonders why the hell he moved here.
"Thank you again for helping me move in, Brandon," A man of a mocha complexion said to his companion as he carried a couple of lamps into his new apartment. "You're welcome to stay for lunch, if you want." His voice was masculine, but smooth. There was a very pronounced accent to it; the R's were rolled and certain symbols were emphasized strangely. He was clearly not from around here. The man that followed him in, carrying a box full of items, was a lean built African American who stood at least a head taller than him.
"No problem, man. I'd be damned if I let you decorate the place." Brandon grinned as he set the box down and went back out to the U-Haul truck. The Arab man smiled as well.
"I am so glad that I have you to make sure my apartment is decorated however you please."
"Last time you didn't even take the shit out of the boxes!" Brandon clearly found this amusing. "You probably wouldn't even have furniture if the place didn't come with it."
"I'm a simple man with simple needs."
"Yeah, sure, Isam," Brandon grabbed a large, suspiciously gun shaped case from the truck and hopped down to take it inside. "Simple needs my ass." Isam climbed into the truck and loaded yet more suspiciously gun shaped cases into a box and headed in with them. He paused to glance at one of the residents that was out and about: a man wearing women's clothes.
His first year or so in the United States had been something of a culture shock. Brandon had accused him of "acting like my ninety year old grandpa" every time he saw a same sex couple out and about. They were just so...open about it. They weren't afraid of being seen. Isam soon learned that in America, homosexuality wasn't a crime. He could remember his days back in the Iraq military, when two young men had been beaten to death by their own comrades for sleeping together. Isam had never been agreeable to such violence, fortunately. After living in a large, American city for a while, it stopped being a surprise.
Isam took his things inside and set the box down to go get another. Brandon was already bringing in his folding cot. "Seriously, man, when are you going to get a real bed?"
"They are too soft," Isam said simply as he passed him. He went back to the truck to get one of his food boxes.
Another culture shock in his new country had been the clothing styles, particularly women's. Isam remembered when he'd first ridden by a public pool; Brandon had been driving. He claimed that Isam had turned a shade of red when he'd proclaimed that the women were practically naked, in public! Brandon had never let him live down how flustered Isam, then only nineteen, had been at this. It was just another thing he had gotten used to over the years.
"Is that all of it?" Brandon came in after him, looking at the grand total of eight boxes that were scattered across the floor. All of Isam's worldly belongings. Having lived most of his new life in apartment buildings, Isam didn't really own any furniture. He looked around at the boxes.
"I think it is. Want to stay and help unpack?"
"Sure, man."
Unloading the truck had taken less than an hour, and unpacking only took two. Brandon rolled his eyes as he unpacked one of Isam's clothes box: full of nothing but cargo pants and t-shirts. For a guy who got paid by the government, very handsomely at that, he sure didn't seem to spend much. While Brandon unpacked, Isam went into the kitchen to make lunch. He went grocery shopping the day before and loaded the fridge. Since he didn't particularly feel like cooking, he made ham sandwiches.
"You know, one of these days, I'm going to teach you how to dress." Brandon came in from the back bedroom and flopped himself down at the kitchen table.
"What's wrong with how I dress?" Isam set a sandwich down in front of his best friend and pulled up a chair. They talked, swapped banter, and rested as they enjoyed their lunch. The door to the apartment was still halfway open, having been forgotten.
"No problem, man. I'd be damned if I let you decorate the place." Brandon grinned as he set the box down and went back out to the U-Haul truck. The Arab man smiled as well.
"I am so glad that I have you to make sure my apartment is decorated however you please."
"Last time you didn't even take the shit out of the boxes!" Brandon clearly found this amusing. "You probably wouldn't even have furniture if the place didn't come with it."
"I'm a simple man with simple needs."
"Yeah, sure, Isam," Brandon grabbed a large, suspiciously gun shaped case from the truck and hopped down to take it inside. "Simple needs my ass." Isam climbed into the truck and loaded yet more suspiciously gun shaped cases into a box and headed in with them. He paused to glance at one of the residents that was out and about: a man wearing women's clothes.
His first year or so in the United States had been something of a culture shock. Brandon had accused him of "acting like my ninety year old grandpa" every time he saw a same sex couple out and about. They were just so...open about it. They weren't afraid of being seen. Isam soon learned that in America, homosexuality wasn't a crime. He could remember his days back in the Iraq military, when two young men had been beaten to death by their own comrades for sleeping together. Isam had never been agreeable to such violence, fortunately. After living in a large, American city for a while, it stopped being a surprise.
Isam took his things inside and set the box down to go get another. Brandon was already bringing in his folding cot. "Seriously, man, when are you going to get a real bed?"
"They are too soft," Isam said simply as he passed him. He went back to the truck to get one of his food boxes.
Another culture shock in his new country had been the clothing styles, particularly women's. Isam remembered when he'd first ridden by a public pool; Brandon had been driving. He claimed that Isam had turned a shade of red when he'd proclaimed that the women were practically naked, in public! Brandon had never let him live down how flustered Isam, then only nineteen, had been at this. It was just another thing he had gotten used to over the years.
"Is that all of it?" Brandon came in after him, looking at the grand total of eight boxes that were scattered across the floor. All of Isam's worldly belongings. Having lived most of his new life in apartment buildings, Isam didn't really own any furniture. He looked around at the boxes.
"I think it is. Want to stay and help unpack?"
"Sure, man."
Unloading the truck had taken less than an hour, and unpacking only took two. Brandon rolled his eyes as he unpacked one of Isam's clothes box: full of nothing but cargo pants and t-shirts. For a guy who got paid by the government, very handsomely at that, he sure didn't seem to spend much. While Brandon unpacked, Isam went into the kitchen to make lunch. He went grocery shopping the day before and loaded the fridge. Since he didn't particularly feel like cooking, he made ham sandwiches.
"You know, one of these days, I'm going to teach you how to dress." Brandon came in from the back bedroom and flopped himself down at the kitchen table.
"What's wrong with how I dress?" Isam set a sandwich down in front of his best friend and pulled up a chair. They talked, swapped banter, and rested as they enjoyed their lunch. The door to the apartment was still halfway open, having been forgotten.
Got bored, so I figured I'd go ahead and make this.
Isam's thoughts on the apartment dwellers:
Jin: He's an alright guy. Isam honestly can't figure out what to think of him, he doesn't see him a whole lot.
Adonis "Andy" Ring: Is he old enough to live here?
Daniel Wordsworth: He needs to eat a sandwich or something, but he seems okay. Isam is 63% sure he's done something to offend the guy.
Isam Hajjar: Worst guy in the entire complex. Seriously, who let this asshole in here?
Cat: A little strange, but he's never bothered Isam before.
Dog: He can't figure out if Cat is his life partner or his brother. Or if this guy is even a guy.
Erin Keller: She doesn't seem to want to come within fifty feet of him. Isam tries to not take it personally.
Alice white: The cat thing is sort of endearing, he guesses. Strange and slightly disturbing, but endearing.
Amelia Perrault: She actually seems pretty normal compared to most of the other residents. He's gathered that she either can't talk, or just doesn't.
Estelle "Stella" Adams: Nice girl. He's mildly impressed that she can fend for herself with her condition.
Mackenzie Cole: A loud child, what with her music and such. Where are her parents?
Leslie "Nevermore" Axelfeild: A sad, strange little man.
Isam's thoughts on the apartment dwellers:
Jin: He's an alright guy. Isam honestly can't figure out what to think of him, he doesn't see him a whole lot.
Adonis "Andy" Ring: Is he old enough to live here?
Daniel Wordsworth: He needs to eat a sandwich or something, but he seems okay. Isam is 63% sure he's done something to offend the guy.
Isam Hajjar: Worst guy in the entire complex. Seriously, who let this asshole in here?
Cat: A little strange, but he's never bothered Isam before.
Dog: He can't figure out if Cat is his life partner or his brother. Or if this guy is even a guy.
Erin Keller: She doesn't seem to want to come within fifty feet of him. Isam tries to not take it personally.
Alice white: The cat thing is sort of endearing, he guesses. Strange and slightly disturbing, but endearing.
Amelia Perrault: She actually seems pretty normal compared to most of the other residents. He's gathered that she either can't talk, or just doesn't.
Estelle "Stella" Adams: Nice girl. He's mildly impressed that she can fend for herself with her condition.
Mackenzie Cole: A loud child, what with her music and such. Where are her parents?
Leslie "Nevermore" Axelfeild: A sad, strange little man.
Isam hasn't really been there long enough to form opinions on his fellow apartment dwellers yet.
But I can tell you what he WILL think about them. :3
But I can tell you what he WILL think about them. :3
You lied to us.
To me.
You've hurt me so.
To me.
You've hurt me so.
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