[ONE-SHOT] Meschans d'Amors

Ya, cerita dalam bahasa Inggris lagi. Kali ini, pemerannya adalah Abisak Avedisian dan Oswald Channing, sepasang staf manajemen yang kurang kerjaan (dan seorang staf manajemen figuran, tetapi...). Juga, maaf karena kata-kata Pdt. Nikolai Mikhailov di RP Pengakuan Dosa telah saya terjemahkan dengan ngaco ke bahasa Inggris.

Hanya karya yang agak kontemplatif. Sila bertanya jika ada yang tidak dimengerti. Lagu yang digunakan adalah lagu Perancis abad pertengahan: De moi dolereus vos chant -- Gillebert de Berneville

Terjadi beberapa saat setelah RP Pengakuan Dosa, berbulan-bulan (atau berminggu-minggu) setelah cerita Reaction. TIDAK terjadi apa-apa yang aneh di cerita yang ini, aman untuk semua umur!

Catatan kaki terletak di ujung cerita.

---

Unlucky in Love




Strangely, the common room was empty when he entered.

A few days had passed since his first endeavour to the chapel's confession booth. He did not know what exactly had taken over his mind when he actually decided to ask an advice from the servants of God, an entity he never fully believed in, but what has been done, has been done. Despite the fact that the confession session he had was just a part of Nikolai Mikhailov's antics, he still couldn't get those words of advice out of his mind.

The young boy probably didn't take his own words seriously, so why should he? Abisak Avedisian could only heave a frustrated sigh as he put down the copy of the novel he had no concentration for. "Bloody hell." Yes, despite his own disbelief at the fact that he actually believed trash spouted by a boy who probably knew null about love, the brown-haired man could not deny that Nikolai's words held some truth to them. He recalled that day, that day when he could no longer hold in the worries he had since that day; that day when he did something overly out of his character.

He chuckled. He had actually intended to confess his horrendous deed, but it turned more into a love confession instead. He had not the bravery to confess what he had committed, and instead voiced out the true reason behind the action. Though, he had to admit, what he said was foolish; did he actually attribute his feelings to voodoo, lack of piety, and other mystical things? Once again, he laughed softly. If he did not believe in God, he had less reason to believe things with less basis.


What did that fake servant of God say again?




He held in the air he inhaled. What did he feel? He could only recall her barbaric tendencies, her overly egoistic ways, her habit of making him drop whatever he had been doing every single time she needed him--



--and how she trembled on that cursed day. Abisak felt a round of shiver himself as he recalled his idiotic deed, which surprisingly didn't land him to a fatal trouble. A few days afterwards, that woman acted as if that day never existed. He hypothesised that it was due to her attributing an action he did with complete consciousness to the alcoholic properties of the brandy she offered him. He could do naught but mirror her action, never bringing the matter up. It was so much easier to pretend bad things didn't happen.

Isn't such a thing human nature? No one would want to remember things that made them unhappy; at least, that's what he read from a philosophical book he devoured happily. Sometimes, he hated his thirst of knowledge; it made him all too aware of things he'd rather not be aware of, such as this. O, indeed is ignorance bliss!

He evaluated the book he had read half of, Die Leiden des jungen Werthers, which, as the title stated, encompassed 'The Sorrows of Young Werther'. Abisak wasn't that well-versed in German (though, he was much better off with it than Armenian, which he could never seem to process. Wasn't he a fast-learner?), and he intended to improve his understanding of the language through reading the popular novel, styled like a collection of letters from the main character. Instead, he received a lesson--or, more like, a path unrequited love could take.

Werther had been a young man like any other. The passionate artist had madly fallen in love with Charlotte, a fine maiden who had been engaged with another. It pained him, but he bred close friendships with both "Lotte" and Albert; in the end, the pain was too great for him to stay in Wahlheim. He took his leave to Weimar, and that was all he had read. On one side, he knew it would be a hopeless cause for that Werther to continue chasing after a distant moon, but...



... was it so wrong for a man to hope?





Did he not say that himself?






Truly?


"Werther, Werther," he muttered, as he shook his head slightly. Did he not know that giving up would be the best path? No, Abisak guessed Werther did know; he was simply helpless towards that strange, awful emotion. Werther should be the one shaking his head at him



The sin was that he fell in love with the wrong person.

"'De moi dolereus vos chant..." he mumbled, with a language he was better-versed in than Armenian or German; French. He did not know what attracted him to the so-called language of love... but here he was recalling a tragic medieval tune from Gillebert de Berneville. De moi dolereus vos chant; of my sad self, I sing to you...


Sing? This 'emotion' of his tinkered with his brain more than he thought. He had never been one for music, but here he was singing an ancient piece in a public place. Anyone could come in and catch him, and he doubted that his voice was like that of an angel's. However, people's ears were the least of his concern at that moment. He repeated the first line of the melody, often accompanied with the soft, soothing sound of a harp. Abisak closed his eyes.




The statement might have been hyperbolic, but Abisak felt that it applied too him all too well. He himself considered himself, what they called it in French, malchanceux, a person whom Fortune rarely granted luck upon. He allowed a hoarse laugh to exit his mouth.



And that was what he was, Unlucky in Love.

Heureux au jeu, malheureux en amour*. The French had much proverbs to describe one's fate in matters of the heart. No, that one didn't apply to him. Gloomily, he knew that the right phrase to describe his unfortunate self would be, 'Malheureux au jeu, malheureux en amour**... Right, Abisak?'

---

Oswald Channing, the ex-scholar of Theology , had just finished another menial job of repairing a door that a certain female Exorcist had broken. Heaving a sigh, he pursued his trip to the common room in hope that he could find some peace. Judging by the time, the common room should be empty at this time...

... or not. The red-haired man's ear caught the hoarse sound of someone singing in public space, but only when he was close enough. Whomever he heard did not sing in a very loud volume; only reasonable, for someone who was singing in a place where anybody could hear. Judging by the lack of cheeriness in the voice, the Englishman could tell that it was not a tune of joy. Suddenly, he felt uncomfortable about intruding that person's privacy.


"... J'ai a nom: Meschans d'Amors." His eyes widened slightly as he caught the last line of the melody's lyrics. Although he had never heard of the song itself, he had a slight idea of the meaning of the French lyrics. Unlucky in love? He hoped he was right in guessing that this person had serious matters of the heart. His pious self could not bear seeing someone in such dilemma, and so he rapped on the door lightly.

A brown-haired man he recognised as a staff of the same section as his turned his head towards the entrance, where Oswald gave a slight smile. The other man said naught, but Oswald took this as a sign that he was allowed to approach him. The finely-clothed lad took a seat next to the older staff, before giving a more sincere smile while he gave his right hand to shake. "Greetings. I am Oswald Channing, a Management staff such as yourself, so please do not be alarmed. I only wish for us to be acquainted; we never had much chance to interact, do we?"

The brown-haired man didn't voice a word for a few seconds, and blinked a few times. Obviously, he did not expect to get a visitor any moment soon. Finally, he calmly spoke, as he slowly shook Oswald's hand, "Indeed. Abisak Avedisian. It is only reasonable, as we work on different fields. I am only a mere janitor."

The Englishman chuckled lightly, as he held up his toolbox for Abisak to see. "And I am a mere technician, so that makes us even." He glanced at the title of the book in the hazel-eyed man's hands, which was in a language he somewhat recognised as, "German. You read in German, while you sing in French. Avedisian, you seem very well-versed in languages for a janitor."

At that, the Management staff's cheeks turned red. "Ah... S-So, you heard. I do apologise, I'm not as well-versed in the arts of singing as I am in language."

"No, it's no matter," replied Oswald. In fact, he was curious as to the rest of the song. "I should be the one apologising for intruding upon your private moment. You sang an interesting song; are you, by any chance, troubled by..." His gloved hand tapped upon the center, somewhat to the left, part of his chest. "... matters of the heart, my friend?"

Once again, the man paused before giving an answer. He seemed to be the type to evaluate possible answers before voicing one out, and Oswald respected this. Surprisingly, Abisak gave a small smile, as he muttered, "... Do you know of the song, Mister Channing?"

The Englishman shook his head truthfully. The man of Armenian descent saw his questioning look, and gave an explanation, "It is a the work of a trouvère***, one by the name Gillebert de Berneville." It seemed that the short phrase did not suffice. Abisak gave a hoarse laugh, before continuing with a wider smile, "Only reasonable if you never heard of him. He died centuries ago."

"Rather than that, I'm more interested in the meaning of it, Avedisian. As far as I can tell, the tune is related to unluckiness in love, am I correct?"

"You are indeed correct." After the direct affirmation, Abisak stayed silent, before looking up to the ceiling with no particular object of attention. "It is about... falling in love with the wrong person." At least, that was his interpretation of it. What use was it to fall in love with someone who would not return the same feelings?



He turned towards Oswald. "Tell me, what would you do if such fate fell upon you?"

The asked man was perceptive enough to realise that this was probably a case that applied to the man asking. He answered as he saw fit, "Well, how can one be so sure that the person they fell in love with is the 'wrong person'? How can one judge such?"

"Well, for once, if the person was far from the kind of woman one would usually go for."

Oswald laughed at the statement. "How can that be a measurement of how 'right' a person is for one? Avedisian, you are an educated man, I presume, surely you have heard of the proverb 'L'habit ne fait pas le moine'." It was one Oswald knew of from his time in Sorbonne, and judging from Abisak's nod, he also knew of it.





"Yes. 'The costume doesn't make the monk'."

"Indeed. One cannot judge a man by his clothes."

"You are right," Abisak responded simply, his challenge met by Oswald. His eyebrows contorted, as he continued, "But that is only one matter. The other is, what if the woman does not seem to hold the same feelings for you?"

So, it was a matter of unrequited love. Oswald held some pity for the man, who now had a sorrow look upon his face, and decided once again to respond sincerely. The lectures in Philosophy he received as a Sorbonne scholar did not give him naught. Thoughtfully, he replied, "Once again, how can one be so sure? One can never guess what's inside a maiden's heart. You must agree."



"Even though you say that, I believe the contents of this maiden's heart is as clear as glass to me," Abisak scoffed, trying to erase the image of that woman as a young maiden from his mind. "Truly, she does not--" Only when he saw Oswald's cunning smile did he realise his slip-up. Abisak gave an assymetrical smile at the triumphant Englishman next to him.

"Ah, so it is a personal case," said Oswald, still with a victorious grin. Abisak was all too keen to stop this discussion from straying deeper towards his personal life.

"I was only giving an example, Mister Channing," he lied, though he himself saw it as unconvincing. What he heard from Oswald was not new, and he even asked the same questions to his doubtful self a few times, but hearing the point reaffirmed by another person was a whole new matter. He smiled slightly, feeling slightly awakened. Whether she was the right person or not, whether she liked him... they were all things he didn't need to consider, yet. For now, he might as well accept the feeling.

With one hand, he closed Die Leiden des jungen Werthers, and tucked the small book into the pocket of his black pants. As he stood up from his seat, Oswald was not so willing to let the subject hang with no conclusion. "Wait!"

"Let me excuse myself. I'm afraid I cannot around in the common room for such a long time. Do allow us to continue this discussion later."

"For the love of God, you can't always put off this kind of feeling!" Oswald spoke, as he too stood up to face the man of Armenian descent. His face held an intense expression, as he pulled on the collar of man he became acquainted with only minutes ago. His other hand gently placed itself upon his own upper chest. "I had been one studying the origins and purpose of life through Theology, mere years ago. Believe me when I say I understand what you are feeling."

Abisak gave a smile, displaying his hesitancy to accept Oswald's words. His narrowed eyes stared at the younger staff with cold hostility, as he attempted to keep his cool. "Pardon me, but I believe you should not get too ahead of yourself, lad. We have only met mere minutes ago. If you would please remove your grasp upon my collar--"

Oswald did as instructed, though not with a heavy heart. His light blue eyes stared deeply into Abisak's hazel irises. "I can tell. I can tell that you have truly fallen in love with this woman, Avedisian." Attempting to remove the tense atmosphere, he gave a small smile, affirming that he truly believed his own words. At this, Abisak's expression softened, as he heaved a sigh with a slighter smile.

"I suppose I can deny it no longer from you."

"You are not only denying it to me, you are also denying it to yourself. Tell me, what do you feel towards her?"

Again, Abisak hesitated. Not denying he had feelings for a certain Armenian woman was a different thing altogether. He was not so keen on stating his feelings out loud, which would mean that he had accepted his conflicting feelings fully. His eyes strayed left and right as if in hope someone would rescue him, but no deus ex machina came. In the end, he dared not stare at Oswald directly as he grumbled, "Certes, piere d’aîmant ne desirre le fer tant, con je sui d’un douz samblant..."

"What?"

"Nevermind," he said in a rush, as his face turned into a deep shade of red. "I must take my leave now. So long, my colleague." Before Oswald could speak even one word, Abisak chose to flee from the branch's technician, who stood still in shock, before he turned around, watching the janitor take his flight from the common room hurriedly. "Stop! Please!"

Surprisingly, the English-born Armenian turned around to face him, just as he reached the exit of the all-purpose room. He gave an inquisitive look at Oswald, who struggled for last words. "Please, let me ask just one more question. This woman," he began, "... this fair maiden who has captured your heart, who might she be? What is she like?"

The familiar hesitant smile graced Abisak's face once more, though it was not clearly visible from where the Englishman was standing. As his right hand took a tight grip to the doorknob, he gave his answer, "I'm afraid I am not quite ready to respond to the first question. As for the second... she... has barbaric tendencies. Sometimes she forgets just how much strength she possesses, but other times she uses it to her advantage. She does not care whether someone has a business they need to attend to, and pushes her wants upon me--er, them. And--" Realising that he was beginning to rant, Abisak stopped himself from continuing any further. With a flushed face, he scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"W-Well, I must depart now. We shall meet again next time... Mister Channing."

Abisak Avedisian gave the sincerest smile he could for the fellow Management staff, even though the sadness it held could not be denied.


"Thank you."

---

---

Footsteps of the older staff echoed through the corridor, as the man took his leave. The red-haired British could only nod as a goodbye greeting, still processing the descriptions Abisak gave of the woman he fell in love with. Barbaric? Strength? Pushes her wants? Why do those phrases remind him of a certain Czech woman he began to regret being acquainted with?

His blue eyes widened as he came to a sudden realisation, not knowing of its inaccuracy. When one puts two and two together, it was only normal to reach that sort of conclusion with the vague desription Abisak gave. Not knowing very well the Armenian woman Abisak meant, Oswald could only find one Black Order staff which fitted the man's words all too well: Allegra Růžena Mlynarikova.



'C-Could it be...?'

With all the speed he could muster, he dashed out of the common room in hope of catching up with Abisak. Anyone but that woman! 'Nobody... Nobody deserves such a tragic fate!' he thought, as he wandered through the central branch's corridors, attempting to find the brown-haired man. O, what a fool he had been, pressuring the man to pursue his love without knowing whom the man was after! If he was indeed in love with Allegra, then Oswald must do all he can to bring him to his senses; love was blind, after all. Only for this did the 'wrong person to fall in love with' phrase apply.

As a man of God, he must save the poor soul! With all his power, he shouted as loud as he could for the janitor he held his deepest sympathy for. "Avedisiaaaaaaaaaaaan!"



"... Never, never, never fall in love with that woman! Accursed is the man who fell for her, and he will not be able to even receive a hint of heaven's scent! Come to your senses, o fallen one!"



"Avedisiaaaaaaan!"

---

Avedisiaaaan...


The man in question was with a mop in his hand. Hearing a soft calling of his family name, he lifted one eyebrow, as he stopped his tedious endeavour at removing a particular stain from the corridor floor. He turned his head towards a fellow janitor, who was working on a different area of the floor. "Did someone call me?"

"I did not," answered the workmate truthfully. He playfully nudged the young man's head with the end of his mop. "Perhaps it's just your imagination, Abisak. Back to work."

"Ha! Well, I sure hope so." That day had been particularly enlightening to him, and he wished to spend his afternoon in his room pondering about it. Beginning to mop the surface of the cold floor, he could not help but smile in remembrance of the common room's incident. Strange as it was, Oswald Channing was right; there was no need to continue denying himself of the feeling. Even though he hated to admit it, Abisak felt much lighter without having to worry about restraining how he felt. Maybe he was much better off just accepting it.

"... Daydreaming?"

"No," he denied, with a smile much more cheerful than his usual. "Just thinking of how good today has been."




"... You don't have a fever, do you, lad?"



"You tosser, no!"

---

* Heureux au jeu, malheureux en amour = peribahasa Perancis yang berarti 'beruntung dalam permainan, tidak beruntung dalam percintaan
** Abisak mengubah peribahasa di atas menjadi 'tidak beruntung dalam dddpermainan, tidak beruntung dalam percintaan'
*** Trouvère: pemusik yang mengembara

bener-bener, sebagai karakter dengan nominasi 'terkutuk', ia benar-benar terkutuk *ngakak* *disodok*

Abisak, Abisak... sini ngobrol sama Leon, sebagai sesama pria yang gagal dalam urusan percintaan *digampar*

Kalau tidak sial, nanti LCK 1 itu cuma jadi pajangan doms... :p Mari kita dukung kesesuaian karakter dengan SP! *dilempar*

Iya... Ohoho, karena alasan apa lagi Leon sekamar dengan Abisak? Biar bisa curhat antara lelaki dan menjalin persahabatan macho antara cowok senasib... (??) Leon bisa bahasa Perancis nggak sih? Saya ingatnya bisa bahasa Jerman, tapi itu juga nggak apa *ide picik*

hemmm.... *bongkar2 data Leon*

Inggris, Irlandia, Perancis, Italia, Jerman, Belanda, Melayu, Jepang, Cina, Latin... tapi saya sendiri cuma fasih Inggris-Indo doang XD *dibejek*

Kalo Leon sih, LCK nya 4... *sial juga itu orang satu*
Oleh sebab itu, kesialannya baru muncul beberapa tahun RP lagi XD *siapin plot n omake*

oke, nimbrung komen
kirain wa make bahasa yang ada "-th -th"-nya gitu, chief
untungnya belom make bahasa itu

bagus, bagus, simple
and bikin saya simpati sama Abisak

lucu juga ada sedikit komedi di bagian akhirnya - yang udah ketebak pas Abisak ngejawab -

manteb, lanjutkan, chief!

Ah iya, gaya bahasanya memang rada lain :-?

Blending dengan karakternya bagus, dan buat saya yang ini lebih mudah dimengerti daripada yang Reaction. Apa karena dialognya lebih banyak ya? Gaya penulisan begini juga oke Chip, coba aja bikin lagi... (tapi pairing lain ya... Shraile gitu misalnya.. *dihajar*)

Itu, bahasa Perancis yang di dialog kasih terjemahannya doms ' ' *males buka translator* Btw, pernah nggak sih, Abisak beruntung dalam sesuatu?

Haihh, kapan saya bisa nulis kayak gini... TwT

@ Silver: Nggak, nggak sekuno itu. Saya harus buka-buka naskahnya Shakespeare lagi kalau mau yang itu, dan itu juga belum tentu saya ngerti

Bagaimana tidak simpati dengan Abisak? Dia itu kan yang Terkutuk di Black Order... *dilempar* Bagian konyolnya juga ditambahkan biar ceritanya nggak serius-serius amat seperti Reaction, karena saya nggak tega membiarkan Abisak terus bersedih (??)

@ Shrei: Diriku kesambar Hunchback of Notre-Dame dan Pride and Prejudice, tampaknya... Ah, mungkin Reaction lebih sulit dimengerti karena memang saya buat samar-samar biar nggak eksplisit terlalu jelas apa yang terjadi. Ini kan forum ada anak-anaknya juga (benarkah?).

Yang mana yang belum ada terjemahannya? Secara langsung dan tidak langsung rasanya semua ada, cuma memang kurang jelas sih... yang digerutukan Abisak di agak akhir-akhir menjawab pertanyaan Oswald itu awal dari bait terakhir De moi dolereus vos chant: "Sungguh, suatu bijih magnet - tidak menginginkan baja - lebih dari diriku akan suatu tatapan manis." (Jadi agak gombal ya, kalau ke bahasa Indonesia)

Terima kasih banyak sudah membaca, semuanya... *peluk*

haha, buka kumpulan puisi aja, chief, saya pernah baca, manteb, lho ) (baca: lumayan bikin puyeng)

haha, emang, tuh. kaga ada yang "setara" sama dia, ya? oh, si nathanael williams =)) tapi kayaknya Abisak emang yang paling sial, deh

hmm, jadi itu, toh, artinya. tadi saya buka google translate kaga bisa diandelin - klausa keduanya kaga bisa di-translate. wew :-|

P.S.
emang, tuh, kalo saya translate puisi saya ke indo juga kedengerannya rada gombal

@ Silver: Saya nggak betah baca naskah Shakespeare gara-gara harus dikit-dikit lirik catatan kaki... tetapi tanpa catatan kaki saya nggak ngerti, sementara banyak makna yang hilang jika bahasanya dimodernisasi. Ah, sayang si Nathanael menghilang... dan LCK rendahnya kurang ditonjolkan juga, sih.

Quote :

hmm, jadi itu, toh, artinya. tadi saya buka google translate kaga bisa diandelin - klausa keduanya kaga bisa di-translate. wew :-|

Mungkin karena ini juga bahasa Perancisnya lebih kuno lagi (tahun 1200an), juga karena penulisan ejaan Perancisnya berbeda dengan yang umumnya. Perbandingan saja, satu bait:

De moi dolereus vos chant
Je fui nez en decroissant
n'onques n'euc en mon vivant
Deux bons jors
J'ai a nom: Mescheans d'Amors

dan versi Perancis modern:

Je vous chante ma douleur;
je suis né à [la lune] décroissante
De mon vivant, je n'ai pas eu
deux bons jours
Mon nom est; Malheureux en Amour

Untuk beberapa hal, kadang memang bahasa Inggris terdengar lebih keren. Cuma, saya pribadi kurang suka dengan karya yang bahasanya terlalu campur-campur (kalau Inggris, ya Inggris. Indonesia, ya Indonesia). Tetapi saya sendiri juga pelaku ini, sih, karena ada beberapa frase yang memang khusus dari Inggris sono dan sulit diterjemahkan T_T

Haha, puisi saja, lebih mudah dimengerti, loh
Tidak memakai catatan kaki soalnya
Yup, sayang Nathanael lagi hiatus --a emang lagi minggu UTS, sih, sekarang, ya, ngga? (Argh, kenapa harus ada UTS?!!)

Ow, pantesan
Kalo tidak salah saya pernah nemu di translate.reference.com ada Old France ama New France. Waktu itu saya belum ngerti, sih, tapi sekarang saya ngerti, lah, maksudnya (wah, pengetahuan baru )

Hmm, emang. Vocabulary Inggris lebih lengkap dari Indonesia di beberapa bagian, tapi sebenernya asal tau diksi yang tepat, bikin puisi di bahasa Indonesia juga keren, loh (sekalipun kalo bikin puisi bertema cinta konvesional tetep aja rada gombal *digaplok*)
Wah, Chief orangnya konsisten, ya ngga kayak saya kadang-kadang - ea, mau curcol?

ahh seperti yg sy bilang maaf br komen ini dr kmrin kompi disita kk = =a

ah chip bhs inggrisnya mudah dimengerti dan tentu saja bagus~ saya suka

memang menggambarkan abisak yang malang dan kemakan kata-kata Nikolai? =)) ah seenggaknya Abisak mendapat pencerahan dari Oswald (si mantan calon pendeta) walaupun akhirnya Oswald dengan kesimpulannya yang konyol menyesali pencerahannya itu... =))

Quote :

"... Never, never, never fall in love with that woman! Accursed is the man who fell for her, and he will not be able to even receive a hint of heaven's scent! Come to your senses, o fallen one!

ya olo dipake beneran ini =)) *g nyangka*

thx ud mau pake char sy~

relationship mereka boleh sy tulis kan? =w=

ahh yakin ni one shot? masih ada konflik yang disa digali d kykna 8D

@ Silver: Iya, kalau puisi jaman Victorian saya sih masih mudeng... novel macam Pride and Prejudice saya mulai puyeng... kalau puisi karya Shakespeare, tetap saja perlu catatan kaki... *payah*

Iya, sebenarnya bisa juga puisi dalam bahasa Indonesia keren. Sayangnya, saya tidak pintar menulis puisi, baik dalam bahasa Indonesia maupun bahasa Inggris... Hahaha, sebenarnya itu karena saya malas memiringkan teks dalam bahasa asing sih, sungguh...

@ Oswald: Syukurlah yang memiliki karakter suka... Ah, kan saya mengutip itu berdasarkan titah (??) Anda juga... dan karena frase itu bagus. Boleh, boleh, saya juga mau nulis relasi dengan Oswald di profil Abi~

Abisak itu dapat pencerahan kok dari orang yang berlagak pendeta melulu ya... diikutin lagi nasihatnya *dipancung Nikolai dan Oswald*

@Chief
Haha, wajar, lah. Memang rada sulit dimengerti, kok. Tapi kalo diperhatikan, sebenarnya cara deskripsinya ngga terlalu beda jauh, ya, cuma lebih puitis aja gitu - atau ada "grammar yang hilang"?

Masalah puisi, belajar saja corat-coret dulu, Chief. Gampang, kok, saya saja bisa
Jiah! Ternyata Chief bisa malas juga, toh *digetok* saya juga sebenarnya malas mencetak miring kata-kata tersebut, tetapi karena entah mengapa lebih enak didengar/dibaca, jadinya tetap saya pakai *digetok beneran*

WERTHER! Romannya Goethe kan? Iya kan, iya kan! Dx *shot*

Kembali pada kasus unrequited love, again. Betewe, variasi kalimatnya udah keren. Situ dapatr inspirasi dari mana sih... *iri* *shot*

Benar! Karyanya Goethe itu yang menginspirasikan banyak pria muda untuk bunuh diri... ups~~ Sayangnya, sama seperti Abisak, saya juga belum tuntas bacanya karena panjang tenan *dikeplak*

Variasi kalimat? Apaan itu? *dilempar* Saya menguras otak nulis ini, mencoba mengingat gaya bahasa Jane Austen... *dilempar*

Variasi kalimat, mbak... Situ dapat kuliah tata tulis karya ilmiah tidak? Saya sendiri sedang coba-coba memadukan bahasa karya tulis ilmiah pada omake saya... yang setelah saya baca malah mau ketawa-ketawa sendiri

Ah, sudah lama saya tidak baca-baca novel lagi. Perpus ITB memang besar, namun menemukan buku yang memang menarik dibaca... sulitnya luar biasa.

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Variasi kalimat, mbak... Situ dapat kuliah tata tulis karya ilmiah tidak?

Dapat, dapat (tapi namanya masih Bahasa Indonesia, hwakakaa)~

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Saya sendiri sedang coba-coba memadukan bahasa karya tulis ilmiah pada omake saya... yang setelah saya baca malah mau ketawa-ketawa sendiri

Tampaknya itu akan sulit dilakukan... *mengingat kriteria kalimat dalam karya tulis ilmiah: tidak boleh bersifat konotatif, harus lengkap subjek predikat, dst dst...* Ngomongin itu, saya besok UTS itu, tampaknya saya yang harus mendalaminya.

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Ah, sudah lama saya tidak baca-baca novel lagi. Perpus ITB memang besar, namun menemukan buku yang memang menarik dibaca... sulitnya luar biasa.

Iriiiii... Perpus Universitas *ehem ehem* nggak terlalu besar. Yang baru-baru saya baca itu Interpreter of Maladies, kumpulan cerita yang lumayan menarik. Mungkin Mbak bisa mencoba itu? XD