Da? Aniyo. [Antosha]

[Clement Evans]

After going through two tutors who'd had to switch out for personal reasons during the year, Clement had muddled through his second time through the sixth grade with just enough success to pass this time. Well, a little more success than usual; he'd managed to not get any F's, something his old teachers in California would find miraculous. His teachers learned that he never volunteered answers in class, but if he was left alone he cooperated and didn't otherwise cause any trouble. But those who needed participation found his grade suffer for it. Still, unless something severe occurred between now and the end of the year he'd slide through.

That didn't mean any tutor with the correct skills who presented themselves wouldn't be shoved in his direction with due haste. Passing or not, he was still not having the greatest time and was still woefully behind his age group.

For this first session, Clement brought his English stuff. His textbook, workbook, and class notes. He'd been assigned to read My Side of the Mountain for a book report. Clement didn't really care for it, but at least it wasn't too boring. Sixth grade wasn't old enough to have finals the way he would if he was in the grade he ought to've been in, but he'd have one last book report and a final spelling word list.

This time he was early. The tutor asked to meet in one of the empty art rooms. Odd but whatever. Maybe he taught in crayon or something. Sitting at one of the scarred tables, Clement doodled in blue pen. Just random shapes, shaded and crosshatched rather skillfully. It was May, but still chilly and he was always cold anyway, so he wore a sweatshirt over his t-shirt and jeans. Suspenders clipped to his waistband under his top in place of a belt, and his blue-striped white sneakers were scuffed. His clothes were a bit big on him, but that was alright. Gave his power room when it popped. To an outside observer, Clement was younger than his fifteen years due to his height - still 4'10", though it was now 4'10.5", officially. And he still only weighed 85 lbs. On a good day he looked 12. He had a sturdy but frail looking build, and his brown hair still hadn't seen a comb, sticking up every which way. The winter had paled the freckles that spotted over his nose, but a few were still there.

When the teacher came in, Clement blinked. The guy was tall. Taller than his trainer. And... wow. Inked. Black hair. Had the whole goth thing going. Hadn't that played out years ago? Eh. Maybe it meant the guy would go soft on him. And maybe it meant he would be an ass. Clement's lips pressed together and his body language closed off. His tongue scraped against the backs of his teeth, and he regarded his new tutor with caution.

[Antosha Vikenti]

Antosha wasn't a big fan of being alone. In fact the Russian man probably hated it more than he did the idea of being attracted to a female. So after his stunning conclusion late into the night at Churchkeys, he'd been busy trying to think of ways to fill his life with people again. A roommate was taking more time than what he really wanted it to, which wasn't surprising but Ant was getting a little bit aggravated with it. Then there was the drunken night he considered, however briefly, maybe he should just adopt a kid. Get a think dose of commitment, feeling needed, and being able to help someone all in one go.

Which is how Antosha currently found himself walking to the art room with a small pile of work in his hands. During his little bout of "I should get a kid" he'd signed himself up to tutor someone in need. Something that he found himself fulfilling that very day. So he'd asked the people to have the kid he'd be helping go to the art room, hoping it might relax whoever it was. As well as being the easiest place for someone to meet up with the Russian since he was usually there anyway. The Russian glanced down at his stack with a soft frown, flipping through some of the sample work as he tried to locate the boy's biggest problem. All he could see was a few grammar mistakes here and there and, well, his handwriting could be better. Though his spelling was rather... disappointing. But Antosha could understand that, since he was probably the biggest advocator in his young academic career for the words 'English is hard'.

Antosha continued through the hallways, his thick soled shoes making little noise despite making contact with slick tiles. A rather fancy pair of jeans, suspiciously lacking in any of his usual paint stains, were pulled over them. Over that he wore a rather thin black buttoned shirt, which was rolled up on his inked forearms as he'd gotten warm in the class room. His body was similar to that of his other form, muscles rippling under the skin but nothing as impressive as some of the body builders that guarded the school walls. The only thing remarkable about Antosha was his height; 6'10 with no shoes on, 7'0 with shoes. This was something he was both proud about, and slightly sad because it meant he'd never run into someone taller than him unless he scoured the earth with a nitpick.

Eventually he reached the art room, pushing open the door before he ducked into the spacious room. Amber eyes scanned the area before he caught sight of a rather scrawny boy sitting at one of the tables. Antosha gave him a small but welcoming smile as he crossed the room sit across the table from the boy. "You are Clement, da? Hullo, I am Antosha. You may call me Ant if is easier." His deep voice came out in a rattling purr, slightly broken from years and years of smoking. He didn't even want to think of what he'd sound like when he reached Sean's age. "Now. You need help in english? Is this your work we start on?" He smiled once more as he motioned his hand to the pile of english work lying nearby. The Russian didn't actually reach for it though, not wanting to start until the other boy was settled and such.

[Clement Evans]

Clement didn't bother to hide the outraged and disgusted expression on his face as his new tutor walked toward him. He seriously was going to just keep meeting a series of ever-taller men, wasn't he. Shit. What was his life even? How was this possible?

The spelling, grammar, and comprehension mistakes would not normally be too big a deal, but for a kid who ought to've been three grades higher than he was, the situation was a bit more dire. His next year would be his second year of middle school when it should've been his second year of high school... and he still used the three 'there's and the two 'its' incorrectly. Matter of fact, he used just one of each, 'there' and 'its'. Exclusively. He figured that way he'd be right half the time, which meant his math was also lacking.

When the guy... Ant... what kind of name was 'Ant'? An ant was a bug. And 'Antosha' wasn't too much better, in Clement's opinion, but then, he was saddled with a name that hadn't been popular in over a century. But the guy had an accent. So maybe it was a name from where he was from, which Clement couldn't place. If the accent had been of Spanish, Hispanic, or Asian origin he could've. But he did catch that growly edge that meant the guy smoked. It was rare to find anyone in his old trailer park that didn't have the smoker's husk to their voice. (His own dad hadn't, but he couldn't afford to smoke.)

The way the guy spoke made Clement... not nervous, not suspicious, but a little wary. The guy couldn't even speak in complete sentences, though his sixth grade English teacher might not know the parts missing were called articles, demonstrative pronouns, and/or direct or indirect objects. Maybe the school thought he was such a lost cause they didn't care if his tutor could also be an example.

Pushing his workbook forward, he just shrugged. "I have two pages here, 'n a spelling list."

The workbook pages focused on comprehension; answering questions about the paragraphs presented that proved the information presented was understood properly. Clement had filled out half of the first page, and one of his answers was 'I dont know'. His spelling list was riddled with red marks, but often the mistakes were only one or two letters, and based more on how the words sounded. Something that a Korean speaker would notice, many of the misspelled words had spellings that would work in Hangeul, as if Clement had transcribed the verbal reading of the word to the Korean alphabet and then written the translation of that in English. That explanation was about 70% true, but it was something much more organic and automatic than something done consciously.

"I didn't fail the spelling test, but the teacher said I got too many wrong. Said I was making mistakes that happen when you don't think carefully." He shrugged. It was partially true. Mostly he didn't know and had gone with the closest he could guess. Spelling words aloud never worked for him, but there was only so much repetitious writing he could do before his hand felt like it would fall off.

[Antosha Vikenti]

((Short. Sorry))

Antosha knew how to speak proper English if he put his mind to it. It just that doing so required concentration that he usually only wanted to spend if it was in dire need. Like presenting something to the classes or talking to a professor, things that needed you to have a proper grasp of English. But remembering all the tricks and hoops was hard, even after ten years of "speaking" the language. Granted he probably should just go back to using it the way he had before, but there wasn’t any real enjoyment out of that. Plus his past use of American slang made him shudder.

The Russian nodded gently as he took the papers offered by the boy, glancing over with curious amber eyes. The comprehension check was… Well if Ant were friends with the boy he would have laughed. It looked like his earlier attempts at trying to write something passable all while not caring. He set it aside to study the spelling test, raising an eyebrow at all the red marks. Granted, Antosha was no stranger to not understanding English but the mistakes he saw were those he might have chalked up to being differences in their native tongue. Letters were swapped here and there and as he sounded out the writing under his breath, he found it worked well even if it was wrong.

He looked up at Clement, offering a small smile at the words exiting the small boy. ”Perhaps not thinking carefully… Perhaps you just don’t know.” He shrugged slightly and leaned back. ”But you do not speak English naturally, so is excusable. Now… Let us start with the reading comprehension? Should be easier tackling than the spelling.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he said that, wanting to disguise the fact he wanted to avoid the spelling issue. There were only so many tricks the Russian knew for learning words after all.

[Clement Evans]

Part of the reason the comprehension pages weren't finished was that Clement didn't understand why some of the questions were asked. They were right in the reading. Like, right there. It seemed like a waste to copy those words a second time. Of course, that was the whole point of reading comprehension, but Clement felt that the questions didn't try to figure out if he comprehended (a word he'd learned a few weeks ago), they just wanted him to parrot back what was already there. Stupid.

Spelling was a slightly different story. What did it matter how he spelled something if he was right enough that people knew what he was talking about? Hangeul wasn't full of spelling that didn't make any sense, too. There were no silent letters, no 'gh' or 'ph' or 'ou' or e's at the end of things that made an i long instead of short. And a double letter in Korean meant emphasis on the sound, not just tossing two letters in just for the hell of it like in some English words. If 'occasion' wasn't going to double the s the same as the c, it was just... the spelling version of racist. Or entitlement. Clement wasn't sure.

He shrugged. "Maybe," he conceded, low. "Once I spell something wrong... I keep spelling it that way." It was embarrassing admitting that, but it was the truth. "The other way looks wrong."

Not catching onto why Ant wanted to do comp first, he just pulled out the two sheets. Each had a short story printed on it, and questions after. One sheet was half done, the other hadn't been touched.

Clement's answers, in surprisingly legible and rather blocky printing, were as followed:

1. Not careful.

2. The peple are beng jerks. They are throwing sky away.

3. Like he did not like it.

4. He does not hid the evidanse good enogh.

5. I don't know.

The rest of the questions were blank.


((ooc: Just FYI, the questions for the readings are below the second story and I used the first story as the 'first sheet'. I pretended for the sake of the thread that all of the questions were not multiple choice or have the answers given, but just had space for the kids to fill out their own answers.))

[Antosha Vikenti]

((Makin' it short and sweet. Sorry hunny))

Antosha nodded softly at Clement's explanation and offered the boy a small smile of consolation. "That I can understand. Cannot tell how long it took me to learn to spell certain words. Definitely, occasion, restaurant. All words that make no sense. I blame the fact that English is just a weird language." He chuckled softly before letting his amber eyes fall onto the sheets being handed to him.

He carefully set aside the empty paper, barely raising an eyebrow as to why the questions were completely blank. Instead he focused his attention on Clement's answers for the first one. Right away he noticed the spelling errors (which actually weren't terrible and made perfect sense to the Russian) as well as the train of thought going on for Clement. "The spelling is not so bad on here... I see only three errors? Out of... 30 some words. Could be worse by far. You even got closer with 'enough' than I did when first learning. I used to think it was e-n-u-f. Took two months for teacher to teach otherwise."

Though... He had to admit he was at a loss for how to teach Clement to catch these things without just giving the boy the answers. "Number one... I would consider this correct." he mused quietly, mentally ticking it from the list. "Number two though... While is what is said in story... Your teacher is mostly looking for what the sky said here." The Russian turned the story and gently tapped the line where the sky mentioned the food being wasted. "I understand is annoying, to constantly parrot what the story says. But comprehension is not to make sure you understood so much as is for making sure you truly read the story." He offered Clement a soft smile.

"Clement, do you know what criticizing is? How it is... Synonym, parallel, to judging?" This, he thought, might help explain how number three could be wrong.

((Since I have no idea what he got wrong and what he didn't.... I hope this works. I'm just going by how I would grade something but alas... I AM A PICKY GRADER. I could never work in middle school classes.))

[Clement Evans]

((ooc: Dunno if it's just a skimming of the paper, but Clement made five spelling errors.))

Clement felt that English being fucked up was a truth that did not need any confirmation. It was right there in Ant's mouth and on his paper.

Sliding a bit down on his chair, he admitted, "I spelled it that way a few times too, but my teacher made me learn that it had 'gh' at the end."

'Enough' was one of those words Clement resented for having too many letters for the sounds it produced. Most of the others in that list also ended in 'gh', and many of the rest of them had French roots like 'colonel' and 'facade' and 'beige', which Clement had once called 'wite kind of derdy'. The first answer was not what was meant, looking for a slightly higher-level adjective, but still served. He looked over when his tutor's pen clicked on his second.

"I did read the story. But why would the sky be angry? All they're wasting is air." Of course, the metaphor didn't go past him completely, but the stupid story also said people made shit out of the sky. So... they were playing with their food and the sky wasn't mad about that, but it did get all het up when it went into the trash, which, to Clement, was more or less the same thing. He thought the sky was full of itself.

Criticizing? "No." He also didn't know what synonym or parallel meant (in English, anyway). Judging gave him a clue though. "Is it like being teased?"