Storytime [open]

Ismet frowned, cuddling with Kadri and looking around the Patient's Lounge. It was very...boring, here. Normally he had chores to do, to keep him occupied, but here they didn't want him doing anything but resting and keeping his leg elevated. But he needed something to occupy his mind; he didn't want to think about Anne and Baba.

Sighing, he looked around the patient's lounge, trying to find something to do. It shouldn't be so boring here really; the nurses were just being mean to the patients in his opinion. He nodded, nuzzling against Kadri and wiping his eyes. He missed his parents...

((Anne and Baba = mom and dad in Turkish))

He hadn't given a thought about what the patient's lounge would consist of, or contain. While he headed there to find something to do, he thought it would be a place for the older patients to sit around in, in the silence, maybe some noise here and there for others talking, and whatever was playing on the television. However, what he didn't ever think was, as he entered the lounge, was for it to be mixed with the kids, as well.

He hated kids.

Frowning, he chose to try and ignore their presence, strolling further inside to look at the book shelf -There had to be something good that he could take with him to his room. Reading the spines, looking for anything that caught his eye, he muttered to himself, mostly criticizing the titles he knew and didn't know. None seemed to be drawing him in though, and he made a frustrated sigh; what the hell was he going to do here if there wasn't any good reading material?!

Ismet watched the blonde man look through the bookcase, wondering what he wanted with those. Though, maybe the man just liked to learn new things. That was why Ismet read books; even if sometime he didn't quite understand what the book was trying to say or why he had to read it...

He shook his head, noticing that the man seemed to be getting more frustrated the longer he looked. Ismet hesitated before going over to him, clutching Kadri tightly against him. He picked up a discared book as he went by, stopping next to him. "Um, sir, do you need help looking for something?" He wondered, tilting his head to the side in question.

He had grabbed another book, eyed the cover and tossed it behind him with a annoyed expression, when moments later a tiny voice (with an accent he couldn't recognize) quipped up behind him. Turning to look over in the direction of the voice, his eyes fell upon some kid reaching to about just passed his hips. He frowned. He didn't favour kids too much... only his brother. Yet, he knew if he ignored him, now that he has acknowledged his presence, he would (most likely) be bothered to answer the question. He also knew if he answered it, then the kid (may not) shut up. Dammit...

Maybe he could leave? But fuck, he really wanted to find some good reading material to bring back with him to his room. Why must life be so cruel to him?! He a flat tone, clearly trying to get across his disinterest to speak, he stated curtly, "I'm looking for something to read." Besides, wasn't that obvious? Stupid kids... asking questions with an obvious answer.

Ismet frowned, giving the man a little glare which, unbeknowst to him, was accompanied by a pout. "I know you're looking for something to read; I'm not stupid. I was wondering if you needed helping finding anything particular to read." Stupid man, thinking that about Ismet. Sure, Ismet knew he wasn't exactly the smartest boy around but he also knew he wasn't a complete idiot, thank you very much.

Quirking a brow, he drew his attention away from the books to completely look down at this bothersome kid. The only reason he did this was because of the vocabulary the other was using and it wasn't too big or anything, but for a kid who looked to be, what, 9 years old... ten maybe, the words seemed to be a little more intelligent to use for him. Maybe kids these days were just getting smarter at a younger age? Anyway, he grew some respect, but only a little bit of it as he properly answered the boy. "Hans Christian Andersen stories. There are none here."

Ismet blinked, thinking over the name as he put the book back on the shelf. "...who's that?" He wondered, knowing that this was just going to make the blond man think he was even stupider. But he wasn't stupid! He wasn't...He clenched his fist around Kadri, pushing that thought out of his head.

His eyes widened as he stood there appalled -perhaps even offended- as the boy asked such a question. Who was he?! Who was HC Andersen?! he wasn't sure whether to jut fuck off and leave the room and sit the kid down and tell him everything there was to know about the best fairytale author that ever lived! "I hope you're joking." And that was the only thing that came out.

He blinked, tilting his head to the side in confusion as the blonde man just stared at him. "No...Is he important?" He asked, curious about the man's reaction. If this Hans Christen Anderson guy was so important than everyone would have heard of him...Maybe it was just an adult thing and that's why Ismet didn't know. But then, why would the blonde man be so shocked that he didn't know? It was so confusing...

He all but gaped at the other now. Of course, he hated when people made dumb looks such as dropping their jaw and opening their mouth and staying that way for too long, therefore, it quickly went away just as fast as it happened. "Important?!" By Odin where the hell was this kid living all these years?! Looking at him again, but observing this time, he noticed the darker skin tone and some traditional wrap that he didn't know the name of -Was that why? Did they not have H.C Andersen where this boy came from?! Surely that must be the answer. Definitely. "He's the greatest children's book author. Best tales to ever be read."

He fidgeted at the man's stare, feeling uncomfortable and now wishing that he hadn't come over to see if he could help. He would rather bored than left feeling like a moron. Ismet tilted his head to the side at the man's explanation, frowning. "But, if he's a children's book author...why do you want to read his stories?" Adults didn't read children's books; they read adult books. Children read children's book. That's the way the world worked; adults did adult things and children did children things...right?

He clicked his tongue, totally appalled by this kids lack of knowledge, or knowing to be more exact, of Andersen. "His stories are more than that." and they were. A lot of his stories always were somehow always a bit dark, especially the story of The Little Mermaid. Giving up on searching he figured maybe hell just call home or something and have his parents bring him his collection.

"But...how are they more than just children's books?" He wondered, confused. He watched the man give up on his search and he settled back into his chair, holding Kadri close. He knew that somethings were more than what they seemed, like the cookies his mom used to give him when he was sick. They had seemed like normal cookies, but they had had medicine baked inside to help him get better. But...you can't do that with books...so what did the man mean?

"Any book always means more than what it is." For the most part, this was true. It depends who is reading it and what the pull and learn from a book. Of course, everybody had their own tastes in stories and novels, if they like fantasy over fiction, or action over romance. In his case, he loved a good fairytale story that, in the case of H.C Andersen, fit every sort of genre no matter how minor or major it is. "I'm disappointed in the collection here; how could there not be a single book of his here? Not even the Ugly Duckling is on these shelves."

"Oh..." Ismet was still confused, but he didn't want to seem stupid in front of the other man, who was obviously much smarter than he was. Besides, Ismet was probably beginning to get annoying to the him and the teen had been told many times that making an annoyance of himself was a bad thing. But, talking with this guy was interesting. "The Ugly Duckling?" The story of that seemed obvious through the title, but if it was by this H.C. Andersen guy the blond liked so much then maybe it was better. For the first time, Ismet was actually interested in reading just for the sake of reading, instead of doing it just to learn.

With a firm nod he repeated, "The Ugly Duckling" Ah, that one was a good story. A short tale about the beauty one becomes. Of a duck who was more than what it appeared to be. Everything is magnificent... but then what wasn't amazing about swans? Right... well, there was one thing, but other than that those birds are loyal and gorgeous -Even if as babies they are unappealing and well... ugly. "It's about a young bird who grows up to be more than what the other's thought of him, ja." It's such a terrible shame that this lame book collection didn't have any of Andersen's novels. He will have to donate to this lacking supply of reading material.