Translation 01: * Maybe You Do Not Need A Mouthful After All - Tumblr Posts
he could understand english, for the most part, but it took more of his concentration to really make sense of what people were saying to him. he had a grasp for the language and, honestly, if he tried he could easily get a handle for it but unfortunately even if it would make his life here easier he was just too stubborn. he didn't want to give up his tongue, his language; he didn't want to give up his home; he didn't want to accept that this was his world now.
looking up at the other next to him, still running their mouth, a heavy sigh escaped him as he forced himself to actually pay attention so he could figure out what they were rambling about. why were the attractive ones always so mouthy.
freezing in place as the other began to sing, the tension began to release in his posture as he relaxed and listened. the other's voice washed over him in a warm, comforting wave as he used the power of his voice to bridge the gap of understanding between them. raen was well aware of what their voices were capable of, it had just been so long since he had heard another sing; let alone sing to him. "ᛗᚨᚤᛒᛖ ᚤᛟᚢ ᛞᛟ ᚾᛟᛏ ᚾᛖᛖᛞ ᚨ ᛗᛟᚢᛏᚺᚠᚢᛚ ᚨᚠᛏᛖᚱ ᚨᛚᛚ*" he teased, a loose smirk forming on his lips, as he reclined back into his seat and looked at the other next to him. "s-so you-- you are not looking for-- for-- cock then," he mumbled, grimacing through it all as if the pronunciation of each word caused him physical discomfort. "shame. you--" he grunted, "beautiful."
Adnan was too self-conscious to have faith in his performances. It wasn't about talent, he knew he had that. Being an artist was about ability. If his voice didn't transport listeners to a world of his creation, then the performance was a failure.
That was all he wanted, to see if his stage time was worth the time of the crowd. Adnan didn't think there was anything wrong with asking the merman next to him while he waited for his order.
"I'm ... sorry?" From his shocked and hurt expression, one would think that Adnan could actually understand him. He didn't, he merely responded to the aggression, whimpering slightly as his entire frame trembled against the bar. "I didn't know you spoke ... well, that we don't speak the same language. You probably don't understand me ... I can't understand you. Uh..." Adnan's instincts always helped him know when he was at risk. They didn't need to speak the same language for the omega to sense that his presence was entirely unwelcome to others. Luckily, he spoke the universal language of music and, in an attempt to express himself in a way that may diffuse the situation, Adnan released a melody from his twisting gut. There were no lyrics, only runs up and down the scale. It was a song that swirled and flowed like the ocean waves, an impromptu composition exclusively for the stranger.
