Metronome

The Oddball Apartments

oh yeah

i forgot that was a rule

A, i will take my punishment

*bends over*

The Oddball Apartments

I like to certain words the way Isam says them

because it's fun

and also the language research is interesting

The Oddball Apartments

Isam was looking over the crudely illustrated map of the apartment, trying to figure out where the hell he was. He'd gotten better maps from men who barely spoke English. Or Arabic. Or any of the other many languages he spoke. He turned the thing this way and that, trying to figure out if he was at the east end or the west end when one of the residents came up behind him, greeting him rather suddenly. Isam spooked, his shoulders tensing and his breath catching before he settled.

He turned to look back at the man. The kid was clearly younger than he, but Isam knew first hand not to underestimate the young. "Naam. You could say so." He looked the young man up and down: shorter than him, smaller, he could probably take him. Then again, he'd thought the same about others many times and had been mistaken. At least this fellow seemed a bit more normal than the two he had met earlier.

"I am looking for the al-mawrid, er, londree room. Could you show me?"

The Oddball Apartments

I don't like to post so soon after posting

but i think i will

because boredom

The Oddball Apartments

Isam set the basket of fruit on his kitchen counter. What strange little traditions Americans came up with. Every time he moved, and he did so more often than most, his new neighbors brought him food. He had plenty of food; he didn't really need their's. Sometimes they brought cakes, or cookies, and fruits. More often than not, it was all too sweet. The day someone brings him a bottle of vodka as a welcoming gift would be the day he made a new friend.

He chuckled at the thought. If he invited the team over, one of them was bound to bring a bottle of alcohol of whatever kind. Isam wasn't picky. But it was a bit too soon to be throwing parties; he wasn't even sure if he was going to be staying here. Speaking of his new apartment, he still needed to figure out the place's layout. He needed to find the laundry facilities, the mail boxes, gym if it had one, and maybe pick up a few brochures before the office closed. It was a big city, and Isam didn't know this part of it very well.

He went back to his front door, still slightly agape, and peeked out to see if the other tenants were gone yet. They were. He quietly slipped out and rested his hands in the front pocket of his cargo pants as he began his exploration.

The Sentinels of Liberty

"Yes, sir," Isam said, not yet relaxing his pose. He stood with his back straight, feet shoulder length apart, and hands clasped behind his back. The posture felt natural to him, like something he'd done his whole life. He had, for most of it, anyway. He watched with interest as the other recruits trickled in. A few stood out as military men, and a couple females seemed to be among their ranks. Back in Iraq, women were banned from the battlefield. But his time in America, working with the women on his old team, had taught him that they were just as capable as any male. He held no prejudice against them.

Isam drew his eyes back in front of him as a man, burly in appearance, came to stand before him. Isam's brown eyes silently looked the man up and down. The man was a couple inches taller than himself, inked up with tattoos, and had an accent that he couldn't place.

"Isam Hajjar," He said, his voice holding a strong but comprehensible accent. He spoke in a smoother, softer tone than the other man, Ulfr. Isam reached out to take the offered hand, clasping it between both of his own rather than shaking it. After a brief squeeze, he let go. "I look forward to working with you as well." He assumed that had been what the man meant; Isam didn't think shedding blood should be a pleasurable thing.

The Oddball Apartments

Guess who's home bitches

The Oddball Apartments

well im leaving my tree now

i'll post again whenever