lost stars

"(...) are we all lost stars trying to light up the dark?" Leo Burkhardt. Twenty-four. Deaf. Former Pianist. Artist. Lost.

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Happy New Year Everyone! I hope everyone has a good day/night doing whatever. <3

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Happy Holidays Everyone! I am still writing my new bio, but for those who celebrate today or tomorrow or will be away, have yourself a good day, block the annoying parents out and have all the joy.

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Molly if you see this, hit me up from one of your thousand accounts XD

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I am back, but after two months away, I am not sure if I should continue the threads I have, so if anyone wants to continue, let me know.

[bella-m-deactivated20240703]

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ryan

“Ah, damn,” Ry said, grabbing a tea towel as he approached her, setting the knife aside. “You’re a brave one, going straight in with the knife,” he noted as he offered her the towel for her finger, already going through drawers and cabinents to try to find the first aid kit.

She wasn’t paying enough attention to know what he was saying, but through the corner of her eye she could see that his lips were moving. Leo wrapped the towel around her finger and mouthed ‘thank you’, unsure if he had actually seen. As he looked around the kitchen, Leo frowned, not quite sure what he was doing. Looking for... what?  "Hey,” she murmured, unsatisfied about having to do so to get his attention back. She gave him a confused look, hoping that was enough for him to understand, because her notepad was nowhere around.

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She didn’t know why was carving a pumpkin so hard considering she had sculpted in clay and marble, but there she was, struggling to make the wicked smile of the lantern. Not that she had much party spirit, but everyone would decorate for Halloween, and she thought her place would look a little depressing near the others. She convinced herself it was for the kids, to keep the fantasy, but just maybe she liked it too. Leo pushed the knife into the pumpkin and when she pulled, she felt it tearing her flesh apart. “Ouch,” she yelped when the knife cut her finger, pulling it quickly.

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Text| Dahlia & Leo

Dahlia: r u quetioning me on the enlgish lang rn?

Dahlia: im a drunk dislexic i will not fall

Dahlia: i had to carry th alcohol bottle ^ here so nah on water

Leo: I am questioning all your life choices right now.

Leo: Well that sounds reassuring.

Leo: Sounds like it's going to be a harsh fall.

[oswinresources]

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Text| Dahlia & Leo

Dahlia: yeah

Dahlia: m pretty secure up here like 0/10 wont fall

Leo: That makes no sense. You just said no one would not fall. Does that mean you will fall?

Leo: Do you have water?

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Text| Dahlia & Leo

Dahlia: wyd

Dahlia: i climbed up a tree n got drunk so now i hav 2 wait 2 clibm down

Leo: Are you sure you won't fall down?

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nice

She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it hadn’t been this. However, Emily was quick to adapt and understand what was going on, and for what it was worth, not one, but two of her girls back in the ballet in London had been deaf - one of them a very close friend still. Emily straightened up a bit and pinned her wallet under her arm to leave both hands free, switching to the bit of sign language she could, while speaking at the same time. “I’m sorry,” said Emily with an apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean to disturb, but the line moved.” She explained and nodded towards the empty space ahead of them.

Eleanor was caught up by surprised when the girl used Sign Language. She was so used at people not knowing it and language being a barrier that when it didn’t happen, she felt stunned, speechless, and action impaired. It was like she used the language as a shield not to risk. At the bottom of it all, Leo was scared to be out of her shell. She understand enough of the girl’s rusty language to turn to look the line, who was ahead of them and almost her turn. She moved quickly to catch up and looked back to the woman. ‘Thank you’, she signed, her eyes wondering at the people on the back who weren’t as nice as the one right behind her.

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embarrassing

Tris had nearly infinite patience - you had to, in his line of work, what with the endless amounts of tiresome, mincey work that was required as a historian. Many hours were spent pouring over some centuries old journal, reading through entries that were nothing more than weather reports — occasionally, someone got a new dress from the city, and that was big news. Regardless —- Tris was an enormously patient person, so the frown that came to his face was not one of annoyance or impatience, but was instead a touch concerned. The girl was clearly in her own world, and Tris did not want to startle her, nor did he want to appear to be rude. He carefully took a step nearer to her, hoping to catch her eye, and repeated, “Excuse me? Sorry, I just -” he motioned to the line, sheepish, friendly smile in place. “Are you in line?”

Leo had always been a distant person, and because of that she had a very big personal space. So when someone caused the slightly disturbance to her arm’s length space, she realized even if wasn’t at her sight. It was like a feeling. She turned her head, eyes catching the male in line, and he was already speaking. She could, however, follow the gesture he made with his hand with her eyes just to realize, at the end, that the line had moved. Her cheeks flushed. As a perfectionist, Leo always liked to give her best first impression, and being distracted wasn’t quite the best she could do. She gestured the best way that she was sorry, already assuming that he didn’t know American Sign Language. Her hands incessantly looked for hr small pad on the back pockets, but she couldn’t find. “Sorry,” she hummed, cautiously, her hands moving from her jeans to the inside of her purse in a endless pursue for her safe way of communicating with anyone.

[w4lkingdvad-blog]

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mysterious

On the whole, Cole didn’t worry about the technicalities of his job when he was not completing them - when he was at home, when he was out at a bar like this, that faded away. It made, he had been told, for a highly disconcerting impression of him —- he remembered the shock on Sutton’s face, the betrayal and terror on Lu’s, and that was what he was in this business for as much as he was for the money. That unpredictibility, the freedom to do with his reality what he pleased —– he could charm and smirk and share jokes with bartenders, he could wield his weapons and make his deals; he was the King of Cuba, even from this northern throne. And his indifference was an important part of that. He dared people to take and take and take from him, until he put steel between their teeth and forced them to give. Cole Winslow was not someone to tustle with, but he sure as hell dared people to try.

There was something mysterious about the man who seemed to be as comfortable as her in the silence ─ though he wasn’t quite as immersed into the silence as she was. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact she was glancing over occasionally. She kept the trace shady, because that is just what she felt around him ─ yet, she felt comfortable because there was no need to feel the void with empty words. It take her effort ─ effort to read lips, communicate, understand and to be understood. It take the other part effort ─ effort to be make themselves understood ─ and patience, something that not all people had. So she didn’t bother in forcing herself onto people. She had always been fine on her own. And he seemed the kind that had been on his own as well. She finished the drawing, setting aside, as she sipped on the half full beer glass.

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polite

Although Tris would consider himself a morning person, he nevertheless needed his coffee - he needed it early and often. It didn’t matter where the coffee came from, and Tris had an impressive tolerance for even the worst coffee, but he favored the small shop that he passed on the way to work — as much for the actual quality of the coffee as for its convenience. He paused for a second to consider the board. He did not have a ‘usual,’ and tended to try different things, so it was always worth a once over. He glanced over at another young woman, standing a bit behind the rest of the line - but he couldn’t quite tell if she was still deciding what to order, or if she was properly in line, and he didn’t want to inadvertently cut in front of her. “Are you in line?” he asked, smiling politely.

As much as Poppy wanted to be part of the world ─ or a world ─, she lived on her own. Nothing was exactly as it seemed in her world. She must looked strange for an outsider ─ not only because she was standing as if she was in the middle of the shop, but her eyes stared blank at the horizons as the colors got together in what felt a warm embrace. The line moved again as she ignored the life outside. She didn’t listen, therefore, she ignored. Inadvertently, she ignored the polite man as she was still lost in her own world.

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somebody

The line shuffled forward, and Davis would have all but forgotten about the whole unfair except for the girl turning to him after she had ordered. Davis took his time before looking to her, taking his time in placing his own order and paying before he let his steady, unflinching gaze fall to her. Davis was momentarily distracted by the elegant, sharp movements of her hands. For someone who felt himself drawn to things like the crack of metal against metal, his fists against the unforgiving leather of the punching bag, the roar of his car’s engine in the silence. He didn’t say anything more to her, but he did raise his eyebrows and nod once, a movement sharp and dismissive all at once. He didn’t care to kick up conversation.

Leo didn’t engage into conversations easily so after she apologized to the man who showed no interest into small talk (which she shared the sentiment if they were being honest), she let him be. She, after all, didn’t want small talk. Leo wanted to have meaningful conversations about the universe and the meaning of life. She wanted to talk about the colors she saw in people and how they mixed to the rest of the world. Her wold seemed interesting, but she didn’t think it was interesting enough for anyone but her. She looked back at the counter as she waited for her order. A sympathetic lady pushed the drink and called her name ─ or so she assumed because the name was written on the cup. She picked the cup with a smile and opted for a table at the back of the shop. Pad placed in front of her, Leo started drawing the surroundings.