maestro!

sad, sweet, but not complete.

[berliozangora-blog]

hcihei:

   unsure what his roommate was saying ( quite confused to tell the truth ) heihei simply looks at his partner, blinking his eyes, clearly amplifying the fact he did not have a single clue of what Berlioz was saying. nevertheless, he shrugs the thought off when Berlioz asked another question- out of the blue to be frank, but that didn’t bother him.  ‘ I um .. I don’t think I’ve ever tried drinking like alcohol before .. but otherwise I drink lots of water and juice and whatnot !! ’

Berlioz nodded, glad his roommate was truthful. Berlioz often felt pressure try something new as to make his life more exciting - like certain drinks, for example. He’d hate to inflict that same pressure upon Heihei, so he let the option become open. “I was thinking maybe we could get a drink, especially to wash down that waffle.” He chuckled lightly. “Doesn’t have to be alcohol though!” He reassured quickly. He was quite unfamiliar with European beverages anyhow and would hate to appear dumb in the long run. “We could grab a soda or a milkshake, if you want.”

[berliozangora-blog]

“What are you reading?” Berlioz peered over the other’s shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of any word. He yawned, “Would you read to me?”

[berliozangora-blog]

dumwonders:

The sound of his name being spoken first made Jumbo anxious as he waited through silence for a longer response. The hesitation in the others voice was enough to convince him that the unfortunate nickname he’d been taught to embrace would spill out, but with no mention of Dumbo, his unease was put to rest. “What are you doing here?” It wasn’t the most intelligent question, given how obvious the answer was, but Jumbo had no idea what else to say to make a good impression.

Confused, Berlioz blinked, scrunched his nose and blinked again. He thought over the question a moment, and what Jumbo meant by ‘here.’ Here as in school, because even California wasn’t loud enough to make up for how quiet he was? Or here as in talking to Jumbo, because the best his mother taught him was to receive joy from the joy of others? “I’m a music major.” Berlioz finally said in a small voice, but with a big smile. “Freshman. How about you?”

[berliozangora-blog]

hcihei:

   he laughs at the other response, and to think of it — he was very intrigued by the city, its nightlife and its cuisine ; after all, living in a small island far from the european lifestyle was definitely a change. with another bite, being its last bite, he devours the remaining waffle on his hand. cheekily, he brushes his hands together, chews slowly as he takes in the last remaining flavour of sweetness. glancing over his roommate he smiles brightly   ‘ thank you soooo much for bringing me here !!  we DEFINITELY have to bond more often  !  — —  you must be a NATURAL to find places like these ! ’

Berlioz smiled lightly, relaxed and content to watch his roommate's sheer joy come out. Subconsciously beginning to tap his foot to the sound of HeiHei eating, he folded his arms. “You know...” Berlioz trailed off, his eyes looking past HeiHei and into the distance of nowhere. What did he know about Monaco? “Could be in my blood.” He meant France and for now, that was all he meant.“I’ll tell you later,” he voiced with a shrug. “You drink?”

[berliozangora-blog]

incrxdible:

“Glasses? You don’t mean like cups do you? I never knew those were actually considered an instrument but if they are then maybe I should try. Maybe this time next year I’ll be Bob of the cups traveling the world with adoring fans.” He said as a joke. The thought of playing football brought a not charming, but completely innocent and cheerful smile. He really did miss playing the sport. Bob was always the star when it came to the football feild and it was obvious his size took a large part of that. “Yeah? Thanks. I was pretty good back home. I miss it. Er, well could you imagine being the QB? They are protected and the most you got to know is catching and running the right direction.”

“Yeah? But quarterbacks are a big deal, right?” He asked, scratching his head. He could benefit from a team sport, but he wasn’t sure he could handle the pressure of winning or losing. Playing with a band required just as much collaboration and each member in literal tune with each other; that was Berlioz’s forte. He shook his head toward his lap and scoffed at himself, knowing this was all a hypothetical. He could practically hear that saxophone player from the club telling him to lighten up a bit. When Berlioz looked back at Bob, he had the same look of respect in his eyes that he gave most of those musicians. “I knew it. I mean I knew you were good at football as soon as you mentioned you played. Have you won championships and stuff? How long have you been playing? Football. Not cups.”

[hcihei-blog]

   after waiting for hours in line to get the so called delicious waffle- which was in fact known to be very famous, and he finally understood why people would line up for hours for it and once he finally gets it and walks away with it, he takes a bite and nods in agreement with .. no one really but he speaks with half of his mouth filled with waffle   ‘ you know, this was definitely worth waiting for !  except, I did expect it being .. bigger than this, this is such a small piece !  how did you find out about this ?  ’

[berliozangora-blog]

Berlioz had been lingering nearby, waiting for his roommate to rejoin him. He smiled brightly - he was genuinely looking forward to spending time with HeiHei and introducing him to the waffles - when he saw him exiting the line. He barely made out what the older of the two with mouth full of waffle had asked him, but he answered with a chuckle once he settled by his side, “Word of mouth. Or food of mouth.” Berlioz laughed more at his own joke. “I don’t know that the piece was small or your bite was big. I’m glad you like it, though.” 

[thebigcoke]

I’m a loyal ass person, so if I stop fucking with you its because YOU fucked up.

[berliozangora-blog]

"my mom's from france and she loves football. or maybe she loves my stepdad and he loves football" LITERALLY the best thing I've ever read as of recent 👏👏

ooc: omg tysm!!!

[berliozangora-blog]

incrxdible:

Bob was impressed, this guy had talent and a goal for being something one day. It was really something that one should and easily could be very jealous of. “That sounds pretty cool! I can’t play or sing, if I try I could break glass with my voice.” He chuckled. “You think so? It would be pretty cool to bring something like football here, it might not be as popular but I bet someone would join the team.” Bob could think of Hercules, one of the other largely athletic friend he made while joining the school. 

“Have you ever tried playing the glasses?  Could be your hidden talent.” Berlioz chuckled along with Bob. He nodded slowly, thinking to himself football was sort of like an art anyway. The sport was technical but focused on the end result. Berlioz stopped nodding and smiled brightly at Bob, suddenly struck by his gut feeling Bob would make football popular all on his own.  “You’d be a great team captain. If I wanted to, I’d join and play...The position that runs the most and hits the least.” 

[berliozangora-blog]

dumwonders:

“Yeah that is kinda funny!” Out of nowhere, Jumbo hiccuped once and only once, with a little giggle to play it off in pursuit. Nerves and excitement both making his stomach restless, as he stretched both arms out to shake the offered hand of the boy named Berlioz. “It’s good to meet you Berlioz. I’m Jumbo.”

“Really funny.” Berlioz said quietly, shaking the boy’s hand. He concentrated on his scrunched eyebrows to refrain from laughter. He knew hiccups were natural, but the general sound made him think of frogs so he wanted to laugh more so at his own naivety and fear. “Jumbo.” He hesitated, listening to the name sound come out of his mouth. “Jumbo.” He repeated, positively. “It’s good to meet you too.”

[berliozangora-blog]

dbing:

“Well, anyway, thank you! A lot of people seem to like it here, which is weird cause back home my friends hated calling me Bo — they weren’t very nice.” Shrugging it off, and focusing on their meal plans, Bo felt unable to take a step in any general direction and instead, waited for Berlioz to take the lead. Breakfast in bed was quite a nice image in his innocent thoughts, but it seemed that wouldn’t be where they would dine. “Breakfast where? You thinking of some place special?”

“I understand.” Berlioz nodded once, not elaborating. Growing up in California with an uncommon french name earned him his fair share of giggles during school. He began to walk, looking slightly upward in thought, hoping Bo wasn’t trailing too far behind. “One of the halls?” Berlioz suggested, not wanting to admit he was slowly becoming a financially unstable university student. He turned to Bo, small look of consideration on his face. “Unless you were thinking of somewhere specific, Bo.”

[berliozangora-blog]

hello-ragdoll:

“Uhm…. Sort of.” Sally sung, but she never had any formal lessons or anything. She thought she sounded good, but seeing as she never sang infront of another person, she wasn’t a very good judge. “I’ve never had any training if that’s what you meant, but I don’t think I’m horrible.”

“How’d you find your tone for singing?” Berlioz asked. “Because every singer is doing the same thing and there are certain rules to be followed, but none of them sound the same.” He bit on his lip, hoping what he said made sense. “French is kind of like that.”

[berliozangora-blog]

incrxdible:

“Yeah? What do you like to play? Chicago is definitely bbig on music so I would guess you’d do well there.”Bob said sure on his word. Lots of people got a good start in that city with how tight and bit the industries were in the popular city. “I just always seemed to be the one to stick around home. The big football guy and everything. American football isn’t very noticed around here. That’s cool, this place is close enough to being France as ever, right? I do like it either way.”

“Piano.” Berlioz said with a smile. “I’d probably end up playing backup for a successful singer or something, though.” He added lamely. He shrugged his arm up and brought a finger to his nose for a scratch. “You should make football a big thing here. You’d be the one, I bet.” Berlioz had success on the track team, but he was never the athletic kid of the family. “My mom’s from France and she loves football. Or maybe she loves my stepdad and he loves football.” One in the same, he thought. 

[dumwonders-blog]

“Um—… Mama said I should talk to more people and make some friends.” He was quiet and awkward and unsure of himself, but if Jumbo knew anything, it was that his mother was always right.

[berliozangora-blog]

“Huh. My mom told me to talk more, too.” Berlioz replied, scratching his chin with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Isn’t that funny?”  He offered the boy a small smile and an extended hand to shake. “Berlioz. That’s my name, I mean.”

[berliozangora-blog]

untillyounoticeme:

“Nice to meet you too.” He smiled and slapped the boys back playfully. “So tell me why music? Don’t get me wrong i love seeing budding musicians but its always good important to ask why.”

“Music has always been there for me, I guess.” Berlioz shrugged shyly. “Like an identity thing or something.”

[berliozangora-blog]

hello-ragdoll:

“Oh no, it’s alright! I suppose it’s my fault for being incapable,” She shook her head, eyes widening. “But,” Sally bit her lip, thinking something over, “There is a way you could help. The sounds. I know how French works, grammar, sentence structure, but I don’t know if I’m making the proper sounds for the words. Maybe you could tell me if I’m doing it right or wrong?” Once the offer was out there, she immediately wanted to take it back. What was she doing bothering him with her stupidity to learn French? “On second thought, never mind. That’s asking a lot of you, I wouldn’t want to trouble you that way.”

Berlioz tilted his head as he took in what she was telling him. He nodded and reassured quickly, “No, no! That makes sense! I want to help. French is difficult.” He didn’t want to tell her that for him it was one of those things he just picked up on. Like the way a singer finds their tone. He brought his head up again, eyes widened. “Hey, do you sing at all?”

[berliozangora-blog]

zedmwolf:

Zeke would have settled for one, but the whole pack was in his sight now, and greed was an ever growing demon within the huffing senior — so he snatched said object without concern from the young fellow beside him (not that there was anywhere to run off with it). First he filed one cigarette between curved lips, then he stashed the packet into his own jacket pocket, eyeing the other from the side in the process, for a reaction. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Startled, Berlioz jerked backward but kept his hand outward. He watched the man’s entitlement unfold before him, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth agape. He passed off his bewilderment with a slow head shake and clamped his outward hand into a balled fist. “I-I-uh...” He rubbed his other hand across his chin before sighing, “Actually yeah. I do mind.” He titled his head, really looking at the guy. His mother had encouraged him to help those in need, and this guy certainly look like he needed cigarettes. “You know what...Keep it. But you didn’t get the pack from me, okay?”