Novel & Cerita New Orleans Slang

// A/N: *mes pattes* is cajun slang for " my paws, or feet" BIG ANNOUNCMENT! Legacy is now available on multiple platforms, I will leave details on my Facebook page @facebook.com/danger.beanz.3 Happy Reading <3

I ogled mentally,Well I wasn't expecting that. I was stuck for a moment. Scrupulously considering what to say,I knew I couldn't sugar quote it,i couldn't exactly say 'A forest outside New Orleans' Either ways it would still sound lunacy. "Outside of New Orleans" I said,silently hoping he wouldn't ask any further questions. His expression stoic,unreadable as usual,his firm gaze on me,as if trying to pry into my thoughts. For a second I doubted the spell I cast,bereaving him from reading my thoughts. "You are impossible human" He sighed frustratedly, his voice hard,with a shred of gruffness.

Gideon swigged vodka straight from a glass bottle he’d raided from the hotel mini-bar, the burn in his throat grounding him. He kicked the balcony doors open. The New Orleans humidity clung to his skin like a wet shroud, thick with the stench of Saati Town—garbage, exhaust, and the copper tang of blood from a dozen street fights happening blocks away. Below, the Sopttyi District was a cesspool of tourists and bottom-feeders, all grinding against each other like rats in a cage.

Bri My darkness settled over the onyx water becoming a mist of dark fog ready to strike at the next intruder of my mind. ‘Fuck you Silas! Good luck getting through that Asshole!’ Beneath the water lurked creatures of this world and of others laying in wait, ready to strike. The light of my power rose above it like the full moon overhead, resting in my chest as my breath staggered to slowly rise and fall. While once my mind had looked like the fine beauty of the glossy and lush gardens and mansions of New Orleans those; buildings were now dilapidated, sunken, and overgrown. Crumbling as the darkness of the swamp took over so that the light could shine above it.

Music flows through the street, mingling with riotous chatter and the occasionally drunken body swaying to the music in the middle of the road. We’d spent the day exploring New Orleans. I’m full of beignets, and my ears are ringing from the sweet sound of a saxophone as we saddle up to a high-top table near the front of the bar. Adam leaves to order drinks, disappearing into the throng of jazz music and lively conversation. “I’m so glad you came with us tonight!” Bailey exclaims over the noise, leaning in to brush the words directly into my ear. “You’ve been in a trance the past couple of weeks. I thought I’d never be able to get you out of the house!”

A keke napep (tricycle) stopped in front of me as Adunni came out. 💗💗💗 Ashewo! : Prostitute! / Slut! Omo bi aja lasan lasan! : A Dog-like child! Yaa Dhal Jalaal wal Ikram! : O Lord of Magesty And Bounty Oya: Okay / Right away Innocentee: Innocent person After every-every: Afterall /After everything Omo oshi: Stupid child Na belle: It's pregnancy Zuhr prayer: Afternoon prayer

The love I have for Mr and Mrs Adedimeji Oyewole is not of this world. ***** Glossary Mete mete --- Lips sucker Gorimapa. --- Shinning head (it's like a slang) Amala and Efo riro--- A local food eaten in Nigeria . Ogunfe --- A type of meat

She asked, curiosity getting the best of her. "Come with me," Dom offered. "Don't boss me around, I know my way around." She said, going back to her hostile tone. _____________ ********* Side Note: 'Fran-anglais' is a jargon we use in my country when someone mixes French and English words in the same sentence. I do not know if it is actually an English word, I have never looked it up, but that's the context in which the term is used where I'm from.

)" Orion asked again tossing another handful of popcorn over to his mouth. "Non agire adesso. La bellezza che hai portato dal bordello ... ( Don't act now. The beauty you brought from the brothel...)" He stopped and changed his speech after receiving a sharp glare from Orion, "Scusa ... voglio dire dal club ( Sorry... I mean from the club )," But the damage has already been done. Orion's playful face has already been hardened by his noxious remarks. "Impara a scegliere attentamente le tue parole ( Learn to choose your words carefully )," He spat coldly.

**FLASHBACK—New Orleans, 2008** The warehouse reeks of fish guts and betrayal. I’d tracked Marie’s scream to a rusted shipping container, its sides spray-painted with a grinning calavera—the cartel’s calling card. Shadows pooled at my feet, thick as the Creole curses I spat into the dark. My boots slip on blood-slick concrete as I kick open the shipping container door. Inside, a single bare bulb swung like a hanged man. “Marie?!” Her name echoed back, drowned by a man’s laugh—slick as oil. “Too late, frè.” The voice slithered from the shadows, Spanish accent sharpening the Creole words. “Your sister fought hard. Made it… personal.”