I CAN LOVE YOU MORE (open)

[MARGARET ANNA HIRSCH]

[/style][style= background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/IyEuo.png); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;]

homesick for a place that doesn't exist

The hankering for a cigarette in her hand was undeniable. She never thought she'd crave it this bad. She felt that the anxiety, the stress, the nervous energy would not leave unless she had a lit cigarette pinched between two of her fingers. If her mother knew this, there would no doubt be something brutal on the way.

With the migraine growing ever more monstrous, Margaret decided to do something about it. She shoved a pair of pants on and tied her tangled hair up in a top knot. On the way out, she grabbed her hoodie from the bed and made her way down to the trail.

Weather outside rather reflected her mood. It was slightly gloomy, damp and had a miserable feeling. It made sense, since her craving for a cigarette was impending. Not to mention she's an emotional mess. Her family, that she misses so terribly, is the only thing ever on her mind. She had also broke up with her boyfriend, a solid, loyal guy because it wasn't fair.

To put things simply, Margaret felt like she couldn't contribute the same amount of affection and dedication if all she was thinking about was her family. She hoped dearly that they could get back together in the future, but for now, she had to remorse over their relationship.

She made her way toward the front of the school. She knew someone was bound to be there that could help her out. Although cigarettes were not allowed on the island, authorities were barely around to catch them. Just the other day, she was smoking on the dock. Regardless, she needed someone from this school to poof her some cigs or possibly teleport her or themselves to get her some.

If she couldn't find anyone to help her, she would just need someone to talk to at least; although that thought hadn't occurred to Margaret yet. She's unaware, but all this emotion being kept up inside her was bound to blow, and she just needed someone to vent her feelings too.

Margaret stood in front of the school, in her leather, low-cut boots, shifting her wait from one foot to another. Looking around ,the place was pretty deserted. Perhaps no one wanted to be out on such a shitty day. Made sense, but she knew it was just a matter of time...

TAGGED: open! | OOC: --

[ABDUL-RAHMAN AL-JARKAS]

[/style][style= background-image: url(http://www.thechessdrum.net/tournaments/AllAfrica2011/photos/Ahmed_Adly.jpg); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;]

aut viam inveniam aut facem.

Today was a really depressing day. Back home in Syria, a day like today was relatively rare because Syria was mainly desert. In Adygea or the North Caucasus in general, the land was mainly mountainous. Rainy days had a certain poetic feeling to them, but somehow Abdul-Rahman hardly ever felt that poetry. He decided to head out to the entrances to explore this feeling.

He had earlier been embroiled in reading every folio of the Voynich Manuscript. He knew that five hundred years and no results had to mean something, but if there was somebody who could possibly decode the Voynich Manuscript, clearly it would be Abdul-Rahman or some other omniglot. That said, Abdul-Rahman found that manuscript rather disturbing. Important in that feeling were the pools shaped like human organs and the pictures of naked women. Even more unnerving was the fact that it was written between 1404 and 1438. Clearly, some medieval write had a rather disturbed mind. The facts that many of the plants portrayed in the aforementioned manuscript and that it had been untranslated for five centuries simply compounded its mystery. He was only mildly intrigued by the fact that even the author was unknown.

He often liked to think that the manuscript was written in a language that he knew well, namely that it was North Caucasian or Turkic. The entropy of its text had been compared to Indo-European and Sino-Tibetan languages to no avail. Perhaps it could be Afro-Asiatic, namely Semitic? What did he know? He was some random guy who happened to be half Adyghe and half Arab who happened to be from Syria. He was also only sixteen. He did remember that the person who decoded the Mayan script was twelve. That gave him hope.

He stepped out of the school and sat on a rock. Simply for his own amusement, he posed like the Rodin statue. He then sat down on the rock and folded his arms over his chest. He stared at the ground because it helped him think. Soon, he began pacing.

TAGGED: here | WORDS: optional | OUTFIT | OOC: notes

[MARGARET ANNA HIRSCH]

[/style][style= background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/IyEuo.png); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;]

homesick for a place that doesn't exist

She stared off into the gloomy sky, hoping that someone would come already. She had been standing out here for a good few minutes with only teachers passing by. A few questioning looks were thrown her way while she stood here all alone, but they didn't seem to mind her. It was getting a bit chilly already. I suppose that would be expected because of the season, but Margaret wasn't keen on getting used to it yet.

Her family migrated from Germany even, and yet, she was still keen on staying as warm as she possibly can. But her casual dress style often blocked her of that. So, the combination casual style and the want to be warm all of the time, has greatly expanded her sweater, cardigan, jacked and cap collection. Not to mention the shelves of warm boots that she had to keep at home.

Margaret's ears were starting to get cold. She pinched them lightly for them to warm up, but at the angle they were at to her face, they often were exposed to the cold the most. After lots of times in the cold, your body gets accustomed to withdrawing blood, which made her ears rather sensitive to the cooler weather. In response, Margaret undid her hair from the top bun it was in and tried to push through all the tangles.

Suddenly, she heard soft footsteps behind her. Margaret turned on her heel, hands still in her hair. A familiar face had appeared and was pacing. Should she bother him? He looked like he was concentrating hard on something. Regardless, Margaret wasn't one to let this opportunity just slide by. As she shook out her long, tangled hair, she yelled out toward him, "Hey! Hey, you! Yes, do you mind helping me?"

He was on the opposite side of the entrance way. They were far enough that Margaret had to raise her voice in order for him to her her. Her hair, now soft and tangle-free, laid gently on her shoulders as she made her way over to him. Her hands were tucked lightly in her coat and her nose was turning pink.

"I'm looking for someone--anyone really--to help me find some .... cigarettes." She said, as soon as they were a bit closer. Her voice had become quieter when she said the word 'cigarettes'. Margaret knew there were some really ... diligent people on the island who were bent on following the rules. She certainly wasn't one of those people, but she wasn't sure if this guy was.

After a moment, she realized that she had not yet introduced herself yet. "Sorry, I'm Margaret. I sometimes forget to introduce myself." she said with a soft smile as she rocked from toe to heel. This would be interesting. Margaret was curios to see his reaction to her need to smoke. It would also be interesting to see what his power was and to see how he reacted to the mention of her power.

However, they weren't there yet, and Margaret's craving was ever so real. Impatiently, she switched her weight from side to side as she awaited a solution.

TAGGED: abdul-rahman | OOC: --

[ABDUL-RAHMAN AL-JARKAS]

[/style][style= background-image: url(http://www.thechessdrum.net/tournaments/AllAfrica2011/photos/Ahmed_Adly.jpg); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;]

aut viam inveniam aut facem.

Abdul-Rahman was pacing and thinking to himself. He wondered if he could be the person who decoded the Voynich Manuscript. There were many ideas about the Manuscript's content. Some said that the whole thing was all gibberish. He like to believe that it had a hidden meaning that five hundred years of effort simply failed to crack.

As he was walking, he heard somebody call out to him. "Hey! Hey, you! Yes, do you mind helping me?" the voice said. Abdul-Rahman turned to face the speaker. She was female and clearly way out of Abdul-Rahman's league. Abdul-Rahman walked towards her to hear what she had to say. She asked for cigarettes. Abdul-Rahman thought for a moment to come up with a response.

"Cigarettes are against the rules. I take it you've been reading Thoreau? Breaking a rule because it is a stupid rule?" Abdul-Rahman said. He walked up to her and briefly glanced at the ground awkwardly several times. She introduced herself as Margaret. "I'm Abdul-Rahman," he introduced himself. "Where do you actually find cigarettes in a place like this?" he asked.

Abdul-Rahman shuffled his feet uncomfortably and stared at the ground. He mumbled to himself that a place like this could only import with the consent of the authorities. The island was so isolated. He remembered Viswanathan
Anand's comment about chess computers; his mind was drifting quickly now.

TAGGED: here | WORDS: optional | OUTFIT | OOC: notes

[MARGARET ANNA HIRSCH]

[/style][style= background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/IyEuo.png); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;]

homesick for a place that doesn't exist

A crooked smile appeared on Margaret's face. She knew very well that cigarettes were not allowed on the island... it must be the addiction talking about breaking the rules. However, the smile disappeared when he said that it was a stupid rule, "I-It's not that stupid..." she added, laughing softly and glancing down quickly.

"Nice to meet you Abdul-Rahman!" she said in a much more enthusiastic tone. He seemed a bit out of place ... rather intimidated by her presence. Margaret was unsure if that was a good or bad thing. She bit her tongue, knowing the timing would be wrong if she said anything about it. "Do you have a nickname?" Margaret smiled.

A small, cute giggle escaped her when he asked her where to get cigarettes in a place like this. "You're quite new to this, aren't you?" she smiled. There was a sense of innocence with this one. She looked down quickly, as if she was ashamed of her actions. Her boot squished the concrete as if she was putting out a cigarette. "Mmm...a lot of people smuggle cigarettes onto the island. You know, secret seems. Others just teleport back onto main land and buy some with a fake ID. I hear there are even memory manipulators that steal them..." she explained to the ground, voice rather serious.

"You seem quite smart though, quoting Thoreau..." she continued, with the same tone as she had been using before. "Maybe help me think of a way of getting some cigarettes?" it was more of a statement than a question.

By now, Margaret seemed to be regretting her decision to come out here. She felt so ashamed and desperate, asking people for cigarettes. Really, what has she amounted to? She knew for certain that she was a victim of nicotine and was not hooked on it like never before. She wanted to say something out loud about it, anything really. But the only sound that managed to come out was a contorted, "H-hhmnfph."

TAGGED: abdul-rahman | OOC: --

[ABDUL-RAHMAN AL-JARKAS]

[/style][style= background-image: url(http://www.thechessdrum.net/tournaments/AllAfrica2011/photos/Ahmed_Adly.jpg); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;]

aut viam inveniam aut facem.

When asked about having a nickname, Abdul-Rahman glanced again at the ground before looking back up. "I never really had a nickname, but if you can come up with one..." he said before his voice trailed off. Somehow he mustered the courage to bear a smile. "Well, it is good to meet you, Margaret," he said finally.

"I'm not really that smart," he said. "There's just so much literature about breaking rules on purpose, like Poe and perverseness. When acquiring cigarettes, I can try to think of something," he said. With that, he went back over to the rock where he was sitting before. He reached into his pocket and found a sheet of graph paper. In his other, he kept a pen at all times. Due to his chess skills, he developed a skill for planning on the spot. He might as well use it at this time.

"For future reference, what is your power? It might be useful," he asked. His hand quivered as he tried to think of some brilliant plan. This worked many times in a heated chess game; perhaps it could work here.

He proceeded to make a graph of sixty four squares exactly on the other side. He often thought better if he were relating a plan to a chess scenario. He did not know why this effect came to be-perhaps it just arose from his involvement in that game.

TAGGED: here | WORDS: optional | OUTFIT | OOC: notes

[MARGARET ANNA HIRSCH]

[/style][style= background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/IyEuo.png); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;]

homesick for a place that doesn't exist

This character was certainly interesting. Margaret didn't understand half the things that were being sputtered from his mouth, and yet, she felt compelled to listen to him anyway. It's as if he was some kind of silly machine that kids marvel at as it did tasks. Truth to be told, she wasn't really sure what to think. Curiously, she watched as he made his way onto a rock while pulling out a paper and pen. Margaret did not bite her tongue this time and spoke her mind, "Hey, what are you doing? I thought you were going to help me." The words were pushed through her mouth with a rather angry tone. The hankering for a smoke was really taking a toll on her manners and made her rather hostile.

As he asked her what her power was, Margaret stood there for a moment, blinking in a dazed trance. Why did he exactly want to know? Even if she told him about her power, Margaret wouldn't use it to get cigarettes. That would just be cruel... and pointless. However, she hesitated before telling him. She knew what people were willing to do to make you an asset. It wasn't exactly safe to be parading your power around, especially a power like hers. Margaret has had too many relatives being taken advantage of because of their boastful attitude. She looked down on the concrete again, unsure of what to say. "I don't want to say just yet. You first. What's your power?" she said with a much softer tone than before.

After a moment of thought, Margaret took out a wagging finger from her wool jacket. "I know what your nickname can be." she added. A smile appeared on her face as she said it, "Dexter. Like from that cartoon. That ginger super genius." Margaret looked up into the air with a satisfied grin stuck on her face. "The twins watch that show all the time..." she said quietly, more to herself than Abdul. For a moment, she thought about the twins and how wonderful they were. But then a thought reminded her of what she was going to say to him.

With a half-smile, she looked at him with playful eyes. "You know, I was going to call you Paula. You know, Paula Abdul." she giggled out loud at the thought.

TAGGED: abdul-rahman | OOC: --

[ABDUL-RAHMAN AL-JARKAS]

[/style][style= background-image: url(http://www.thechessdrum.net/tournaments/AllAfrica2011/photos/Ahmed_Adly.jpg); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;]

aut viam inveniam aut facem.

Abdul-Rahman was actually attempting to make a plan. Clearly, the first major problem was..well...the large body of water between this place and the mainland. Could he establish some secret trade routes between the place and the mainland? He had known a friend, a Bahraini, who testified that there were ways to smuggle goods into islands. How could he apply them here?

She then yelled at him about not helping. He turned around with a bemused expression on his face. "I'm in the process of coming up with something," he said. However, she asked him about his power first. His power was just so boring for a place like this. Somehow, he still felt compelled to respond. "I'm just an omniglot," he said.

After hearing the name Dexter, he did think about the cartoon Bulgarian who was apparently a genius eight year old. However, there were better characters named Dexter. "What about that other Dexter, Dexter Morgan? The one who kills serial killers?" he said, a mild grin appearing over his face. "That's pretty awesome."

He went back momentarily to his plan. He needed his laptop to carry out any of it to any degree of success. He decided to just get it later. But then she mentioned Paula Abdul. He knew perfectly well that Abdul could not stand alone as a name, but he was used to people simply calling him Abdul. "Now unfortunately for me, I don't have any brilliant counter responses to that. But Paula?" he said.

TAGGED: here | WORDS: optional | OUTFIT | OOC: notes

[MARGARET ANNA HIRSCH]

[/style][style= background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/IyEuo.png); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;]

homesick for a place that doesn't exist

"A what?" she blinked, words said close together. An omni--what? Had he sneezed? She was too irritated with her hankering to try and figure it out, and she knew that he was going to answer the question anyway. Margaret silently contemplated whether or not to tell Dexter about her power. It seemed only natural to tell him, as he had told her... so perhaps that would be okay. Besides, it would only be a matter of time before he found out.

"I am able to posses people." she started rather darkly. But as she explained her power, her tone became more and more robotic and practiced as if she had explained her power too often, "It's like I push my mind into their's and it's like two people inside one body fighting for control. I have never done it on purpose, other than in my SAC... but when I do it by accident, it's usually to people that I admire a lot or aspire to be like. My body... well, my body is limp when I possess someone." her voice wandered off as she thought about the various times she had possessed people she looked up to. Her own mother, her very best friend, a one-legged motivational speaker, just to name a few. Most of those that didn't know Margaret well, pushed her away because they wanted to be in control of their own bodies. Not to mention being possessed is a traumatizing experience for most people. The only person that has ever stayed around was her mother, that Margaret missed so dearly.

"Yes, Paula." she smiled as she returned her wagging fingers back into the soft pockets of her wool coat. She was never really good at giving names. A fair example would be her stuffed lemur plushie as a kid... she had named him Rings, because of the black and white rings on his tail. Not exactly the most creative kid, but at least it was satisfying. Rings now sits on a shelf in her dorm and protects her when she is sleeping from nightmares.

She failed to make a comment about the other Dexters he mention. She knew of the Dexter that killed serial killers from that television show, however, hadn't found the motivation to say anything about it. Anything said would be irrelevant to what they were trying to accomplish. And to be frank, she really didn't care. A nickname given is a nickname given. Margaret was a bit perplexed in why the boy had to go and expand on it.

TAGGED: abdul-rahman | OOC: --

[ABDUL-RAHMAN AL-JARKAS]

[/style][style= background-image: url(http://www.thechessdrum.net/tournaments/AllAfrica2011/photos/Ahmed_Adly.jpg); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;]

aut viam inveniam aut facem.

Abdul-Rahman was forced to elaborate on his power. "I learn languages really fast. I just need to listen to a song in a given language before I can speak in it with a relative degree of fluency," he said, looking self-consciously at the ground yet again. He had a fair understanding of Greek roots and knowing how to speak modern Greek anyway only aided in that knowledge. Somehow, he could never learn any of the dialects of Ancient Greek; the easiest to try to learn would probably be Koine Greek, but what was the utility?

"If I have any opinion, could you just call me Dexter? Sure, it does only mean 'right-handed,' but it sure beats Paula," he said, not giving any particular thought. "And possessing people? Out of curiosity, can you feel pain while doing such an act?" he asked. Again, this was AMG. He was now perfectly used to people capable of doing things like that.

"And sorry if I seem to be rambling. I'm just attempting to get used to a new country, that's all..." he said before his voice trailed off for no particular purpose. He mumbled something under his breath, but did not remember what that was about. Perhaps it was something about parents naming their kids Sinister. The word was, by Latinate roots, the opposite of Dexter; it meant left-handed, but had come to take on a connotation of 'evil.'

"Do you mind if I go get my laptop? I could plan better if I had it with me," he said. "Or better yet, could you possess my body and walk it to my dorm room? I sort of want to know what that feels like. Sounds like some collision of nerve impulses or something," he said, thinking aloud.

TAGGED: here | WORDS: optional | OUTFIT | OOC: notes

[MARGARET ANNA HIRSCH]

[/style][style= background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/IyEuo.png); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;]

homesick for a place that doesn't exist

She listened carefully in his explanations, trying not to get lost. "Oh, wow. That must be really helpful then. You can travel the world ... " she said out loud, with not much thought. Her mind had already wandered off, uncharacteristically, to the idea of travelling the world with his ability. That would be perfect. She can go back to Germany and visit all her relatives without having to study the language. How she yearned to connect to her grandmother and grandfather, but had to go through her mother.

"Yes, yes, I'll call you Dexter." she said, head floating back to where it was supposed to be. "I was kidding about Paula." she laughed softly, revealing a wide set of teeth and deep dimples.

Margaret was a bit caught off guard when she was asked to posses him. Odd, no one has ever asked to be possessed. Her first reaction was no, no way. That would just be weird. However, she reconsidered. "Hmm... I suppose I can try. But it'll be hard, since I-I don't know you. I usually posses people I admire or aspire to be like... but if you really want to, I can try."

All of the sudden, she no longer really wanted the cigarettes. With the idea of having to possess someone else's body just to do so. "You know what, it's okay. We don't have to get the cigarettes." she started, moving her way closer to him and sitting on a spot beside him, on the left side. "We can just kill the time or something."

TAGGED: abdul-rahman | OOC: --

[ABDUL-RAHMAN AL-JARKAS]

[/style][style= background-image: url(http://www.thechessdrum.net/tournaments/AllAfrica2011/photos/Ahmed_Adly.jpg); border: solid #b9b9b9 15px; width: 400px; height: 200px;]

aut viam inveniam aut facem.

Abdul-Rahman glanced at the ground and lost his train of thought for a few seconds before noticing that Margaret was moving closer to him. Again, he felt somewhat intimidated. Why would some girl clearly way out of his league want to do that? As a few second progressed, she said that they could kill time. His complete lack of social skills continued to backfire on him and he started to loudly hum the national anthem of the USSR.

"Well," he suddenly found the courage in himself to utter. He turned to face Margaret and smiled. "Where are you from, originally?" he asked. "And don't be a smartass and say Africa," he said, chuckling a little. He clearly did not know how to respond to an act of kindness from somebody of the opposite gender who was so beautiful, so he simply tried to improvise.

He remembered where he was in the anthem. "Yediny, moguchy, Sovetsky Soyuz!" he sang out quietly. The song was clearly one of the most patriotic of all national anthems. He remembered that there was somebody sitting next to him and awkwardly stopped singing. Perhaps that her ability was controlling the bodies of other people contributed.

He then started thinking about how such an ability was possible. Did she subconsciously know how to control nerve impulses when they reached their respective destinations. Did she control nerve impulses at their source, the brain? A place like this was such a hotbed for scientific discoveries, all of which would rock the world.

TAGGED: here | WORDS: optional | OUTFIT | OOC: notes