Remnants of the Motherland (Lilia)

[Dimitry Zechevny]

It was a blank room...

Dimitry sat in his chair, his feet on the cold, steel desk. His room represented the remnants of his homeland. The might of iron and steel. He had heard much of the days of the Soviet Union. While he disapproved of the nature of their rule, he did see the benefits it brought to the country. In a time following the dessication of the land after the rule of a cruel Tsarist regime, it brought the outdated Russia into a new age of comparative prosperity.

He liked to think of himself as being a representative of such a once great nation. He planned to visit soon. To pay homage to his birthplace and homeland. But for now, he had t pass on something of his culture. The most basic of things. His language. To Lilia. Possibly the first person he'd ever had a conversation with ever. A cultivation of culture so to speak. He'd teach her Russian, and in return, he'd be taught French by her.

He lifted his feet from the desk, did a last cursory glance over the room in order to ensure it was tidy. It was almost not worth the bother. Of course it was. It always was. He barely spent any time in here. Any time he did spend, he made sure it was clean afterwards. It was easier to work in. Blank concrete walls, a steel shod door, with the spartan level of furnishings made this place only a resting place. It ensured he would always be ready for anything. No time wasted in un-necessary comfort.

[Lilia Wyndern]

The door knob would begin to turn; she didn’t need to knock, for she knew he would be ready for her. Lilia in fact wasn’t too nervous, she would be a bit more fidgety if she presented him her own quarters, even if tidy and unlike his full of aesthetically beautiful design. Lilia had worn a sweater, a simple cream color it looked very comfortable and the long sleeves were folded at the ends to make her hands visible. She wore a pair of pants, black and were fairly tight as most were concerned which showcased her long fit legs in a clever way. She also wore a pair of flats, very comfortable they were, wholly black but having a cream colored stripe on the side. Overall, Lilia was dressed in comfort mode and not to impress though that would be hard not to do. The French always did have a knack for liking ravishing in nicely coordinated clothing.

She had a notepad with her, obviously to take notes with, but she would surprise him today, for she on her own accord learned a few words herself. Upon seeing him she gave a perfected bow, stood erect and spoke but not in her own language.

“Привет димитри, как – Вы?” She said, speaking the basic words of ‘Hello Dimitry how are you?’ in Russian, she had learned them and practiced for awhile and she had hoped to all that was holy that she had pronounced them right, but she knew she probably had them in the wrong order, simply because French was easier with saying things in a particular order and arrangement. She fiddled with a lock of pink hair and looked away from him.

“Did I…happen to say that right Dimitry?”

[Dimitry Zechevny]

He looked over to where the door had swung open. There she was. As delicately pretty as ever. He smiled a little, before he brought his feet down. He smiled, and gave a sort of impressed look, or what imagined what being impressed would look like.

It was good, a little off on the accent, but it's to be expected. But otherwise, very good.

He swung himself around to face her, looking at her. Her attire, although relatively plain, did her justice. Her legs seemed to stand out the most, long, slender and shapely, the trousers she wore flaunted them most magnificently. His own attire didn't seem much more overt, a plain black shirt, with a pair of simple black jeans, tight denim weave to give more of an impression of trouser material, but retaining the feel of denim.

The accent should be harsher, blunter. Think like you were shouting at someone, force the words, it's not a calm language. Much like we are not a calm people.

He smiled at her, for it was true, the Russian people were not renowned for their level headed behaviour. Throughout history, they had deposed leaders, murdered populace and waged war upon countless millions. It was only with the almost complete annihilation of the Motherland that they had been pacified. Their violent spirit lived on in the few survivors, and in their language.

You won't be needing the notebook much. The words you can learn yourself. Pronunciation comes with the accent. Accent in my eyes is the most important step in the language. It embraces the natural feel of it, and allows you to anticipate how to speak a word.

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