I JUST SAW ARABIC ON A PARA IN THE DASH WAIT WHO’S SPEAKING ARABIC I CAN TRANSLATE
It's me but it's really bad, I used google translate so it's probably wrong in a million thousand ways!
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@nasira-khan
I JUST SAW ARABIC ON A PARA IN THE DASH WAIT WHO’S SPEAKING ARABIC I CAN TRANSLATE
It's me but it's really bad, I used google translate so it's probably wrong in a million thousand ways!
Sorry Won't Save Us Now {Nasira, Lucky, Jafar, Iago}
Some bodies spend their days, running around and cleaning up things. Whether it be within their personal life, career, or living space; they liked everything to be in order. Where, not only could they find what they were actually looking for, but so could others. Some people were like that - Jafar was not. And neither was Iago. Items littered the floor, couch, bed - even the bathroom. Whether there was space, there was junk. Some of it was his own, some of it was Iago’s. However, as Jafar tried to actually walk through the dorm room without breaking his neck, he couldn’t decipher which item belonged to which boy. So it had came to the point, where Jafar was just picking up anything that caught his fancy, and claiming it as his own - leaving the rest in the mounds of ever growing dirty laundry and other what-nots.
He and Lucky had came here, with the attention of getting what they needed, and then leaving. There was a few more of Jafar’s (actually Iago’s) items that he wanted to collect, before it was a little more official than it was before. The two boys had been living together for what seemed to be a while now. And Jafar liked it. Walking up to your boyfriend, and then falling back asleep, with him still by your side was never something to be complained about. Jafar had turned, his eyes falling to rest on Lucky. He had just opened his mouth to ask to younger boy if, or if not, he liked the shirt that he held in his hand, when the door seemed to slam open as though a small hurricane had made its home beside it. As an all too familiar voice snapped through the air, Jafar didn’t need to turn around to know who it belonged to. In fact, he didn’t turn at all. “What the fuck do you want?" he growled, irritation already making it’s presence as Jafar remained with his back to his fraternal sister, Nasira; the current black cloud to Jafar’s life, and day.
Iago has received a message from his best friend earlier in the day to stay away from his dorm for the day, so he did. Iago left early in the morning; or at least what he thought was early, and headed out into ‘the wild’ of New York; ending up in Times Square with a spliff in his mouth and 20 bucks for food; and for a kid who always had so much money, he did look slightly homeless today; a t-shirt he hadn’t washed in a while clung to his body whilst his jeans sagged down his legs a little; his hair ruffled up like he’d just had the fucking of a lifetime — and you get the picture from there. But, much to Iago’s surprise, there wasn’t a lot you could do in the city of New York; if you’d already been there a million times before — on holiday, and living permanently. So, he visited a hot dog stand, ate hastily and then went on his way to Central Park. He found a bench that wasn’t occupied by a homeless guy and lied down; eyes peering to the sky, and smoke drifting away from him in small circles.
He thought about his life so far in New York, and how fucking boring it had been — he’s pretty sure his (now ex-)girlfriend had just upped and left him for dead or something, and Nasira didn’t want to have anything to do with him; and then there’s his best friend, his practical brother, whom had probably forgotten he existed (or at least that’s what Iago would be thinking if it wasn’t for the occasional text every couple of days). And there was this one little British boy standing in his way; now, he didn’t hate the fact that Jafar had a boyfriend, but he wasn’t fond of it — because what happened to charming, watch-out-girls-I’ll-make-you-scream-my-name, psychopathic Jafar? He’d been taken, that’s what. Iago noticed the time, and thought ‘hey better start heading home’ because, only God knows what time he left the school, and he was kind of wanting a shower — even if he’d showered before leaving, he’d just been lying on some peasant-like park bench like a homeless person; and that wasn’t exactly the greatest thing for his image.
Just the sight of Luke Redden made Nasira’s blood boil. But him, so close, so near, to her brother made her sick. Really, the only choice was to ignore him when he gave her a falsely sweet welcome because not only was it another thing to add to the already lengthy list of reasons she wanted to rip his throat out but it was just too tempting. It wasn't solely a reason, but a dare. Maybe that should have scared Nasira (that she would go as far as to physically harm Lucky) but it didn’t. She barely heard Jafar demand to know what she wanted, but was able to think of something to piece together. “انه لا يعيش هنا؟” She spat in Arabic, her native tongue coming to life, gesturing to all the junk that lay discarded. She pointed at Lucky, standing so innocently, and narrowed her eyes at him. Her livid eyes flicked to the bed which was a mess of sheets with various stains and splatters on them. “لا ينام في هذا السرير؟” She slammed her hand against the kitchenette counter. “تناول الطعام في هذا المطبخ؟" She moved to the window sill where an ash tray held a still smoking cigarette. “الدخان تلك النافذة؟” A chilly wind blew in through that very window, causing the cigarette to lose all of its residue smoke, but Nasira was not bothered by it in the slightest. In fact, it powered her forwards. She wanted to kick and scream and rattle Jafar for a reason, for a reaction, but she'd done that so many times before that she knew nothing would come of it.
Instead, she tried to get a feel for her surroundings and so it hit her, like the chilly wind flying in through the window, that death was in the room, watching over them. She turned to Lucky and looked at him for the very first time. Looked at him with a vision that was clouded by dark magic. She could never explain how she knew these things, but she knew it in the seconds between Lucky blinking twice and him scratching his head. 'He's dead.' A voice chimed, violently, before subduing itself with reason. On closer inspection, Nasira was able to determine that Lucky was not actually dead (as happy as that would make her) but had indeed passed over once before in his lifetime. A cold blanket draped over her skin, and weaved through the strands of her hair as she took a tentative step towards the youngest of the three. She chose her next words carefully, precisely: "I can bring you back," she whispered venomously, "and you'll be whole again." She was never sure who was speaking in these moments: her, or someone much more dangerous. Subtly, she stretched out her hand, wanting to make contact with Lucky's skin, to draw out the darkness from him and absorb it into her before replacing it with something much worse. You can only take so much without giving so much back.
Sorry Won't Save Us Now {Nasira, Lucky, Jafar, Iago}
There was a sense of mystery in the air today and it was holding hands with that of hostility. The clouds were heavily laden with dark omens and Nasira could feel the danger dancing through the wind, whipping the hair around her face. Of course today would be the day that Nasira chose to try to smooth things over with her fraternal twin. She ducked under a pathway as the first of many rain drops began to fall on her exposed skin. Jafar—she had to find him. He was the core of this whole debacle and if she went right to the centre of all her problems then she would, indeed, be able to solve this. Under no circumstances would she apologise to that ass-kisser that clung to her brother’s body, like a leech begging for blood to survive. An odd thought struck Nasira—where would she be able to find her brother? Maybe he was hiding out in his dorm, just as she had been, but when she stopped to remember where on Earth her brother said he lived, Nasira came up blank. Did he live on campus? In the dorms? Off campus, in a flat that he rented? Did he share living space? Was he staying in a hotel? At a house? Nasira was, unfortunately for her and everyone else that day, very angry with this realisation.
She marched herself to the student admin where she demanded that it was her birth right to know which dorm her brother slept in at night. The slightly frightened receptionist quickly flew her fingers across her keyboard and was able to tell Nasira that Jafar lived on the third floor, in dorm 5D. Without thanking the woman, she darted through the corridors, sprinted across an open patch of grass where the rain beat down on her and then flew into the boys dorms. Within minutes, she found herself knocking loudly on dorm 5B. No answer. Frustrated, Nasira turned the door handle, expecting her efforts to come up futile. Strangely, the door did not resist and Nasira found herself walking right into a very messy dormitory where two males (one tanned, tall and lanky, the other noticeably shorter and paler) stood very close to each other. Nasira took a moment to take everything in and relish in the last few seconds of silence that she was to experience that day before yelling, very loudly and ignorantly: “Get the fuck away from my brother, you foul dog!”
It doesn’t feel like you want to stop.
I'm meant to be the smart one here.
Hm, wonder why…
Iago, we have to stop.
You talk a lot.
You don't talk enough.
Wasn’t that what made it fun though? The sneaking around — because, I remember your smile every time I came around, and he had no idea. How can you even begin to be content with losing yourself? It’d be wasting away to nothing and I’ll still be around, watching it all happen, and it’ll break my heart — simple as that. But, if you have to let go of me, and you have to forget, may as well go out with a bang, right?
That's not the point and you know it. You know I loved it when you made me smile like that, you know I have to let this go, you know that I don't want to, you know that it's killing me standing this close to you and not being able to reach out and just touch you. So it hurts, and it kills me, having to do this, okay? And anyway, I didn't think you had a heart, much less one for me to break. Iago, sto--
We’ve never been good for each other, it’s a known fact. But, that made us good for each other in a way too, if you think about it… Like what, Nasira? Like what? Because we know, I could at least try and help you. Then don’t forget it, just say that you have but always keep it with you — because you should never let go of the things that changed you, or the things you want to keep with you forever, because it’d just be like losing a part of you, and do you really want that for yourself?
I want to be happy, and you drive me mental. We were bad, Iago. Everything that meant anything, we did behind my brother's, your best friends, back. Like I am, like I always have been but worse. It doesn't go away, the voices are always there! They won't go away and no amount of sleepless nights or comforting words is going to fix that. If forgetting means loosing, then I've lost most of myself already and I'm content with that, Iago. The only things left to loose are you and Jafar and I--I can't lose my twin but I can...I can let go of you. I have to.
Every single man? Every single man, you’re willing to forget them all? I don’t even care about who you’ve been with, one thing that sucks is, that you’re willing to forget me… And for some reason, I don’t think I could live with that, not that it’s any of my business anymore, really.
I...I have to do what's best for me, Iago. And you've never been good for me, especially...especially not when I'm like this. I don't want to forget anything about what we had, it changed me, how I see things. But I have to, even though I don't want to.
Who cares about fresh starts? You just can’t dump your past behind and forget it ever happened, especially when your past is going to be a part of your future. Is that the little boytoy’s name? Lucky?
I care, Iago. I'll forget every single damn man I let touch me and I'll forget how to use a kitchen and I'll forget what it feels like to not have anywhere to sleep at night because I have to. It's really Lucas or something nondescript like that. I've been trying to tell Jafar for weeks that the kid's a waste of time but I just keep hitting a fucking wall.
Why not? Because Jafar might overhear? Ooh, how scandalous, Nasira.
Because this was my fresh start, not yours. And yeah, because my twin brother might hear, that might be more of a valid reason than you think. Jafar's being a bitch lately over that stupid little dog Lucky.
Well, there’s this one girl, but it’s not like she really wants me anymore, now is it?
I swear to God, don't keep talking. Please, don't. We can't do this, not here, not now.
I could get high and then make out with a couple of random girls, but there doesn’t seem to be a lot of selection around right now.
I'm not objecting to the drugs part, I think I actually have some laying around the place, but otherwise I think you're just too lazy to look.
Like what? There’s nothing to do in this dump.
I don't know. Hit a bird out of the sky. There's got to be something for you to do apart from walk around like a puppy dog.
You love it.
Oh, for fuck's sake. Put your tongue away and do something productive with your day.
What’s up my bitches.
Put your tongue away, Iago. People can see.