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driftfleet2017-03-04 01:11 am
perfecting) wrote in driftfleet2017-03-04 01:11 am
Entry tags:
ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ɴᴏ ᴇxᴘʟᴏsɪᴏɴs ʜᴇʀᴇ ( ᴏᴘᴇɴ )
Who: Nancy Wheeler + you!
Broadcast: no
Action: heron, iskaulit
When: all through march.
( A; Heron - Arrival )
[ The new arrival can't be more than seventeen-years old. Carrying a school bag, pins in her hair, wearing a pale pair of jeans and red jacket above her sweater. Nancy looks like a high-school girl on the way to her locker.
She had given those who had seen her arrival a little tight smile before slinking off. She never really had the new-school jitters. In Hawkins, everyone knew everyone since they were children. Nancy knew the kids in her high school since pre-school. She never really had to deal with so many strangers before.
She finds a room and places her bag, takes out her books an pencil-box. It's far from her room but it's still better than the Marsiva.
If you pass by her room, you might notice the door is open. If she sees you, she'll get up and call out, a hesitant and yet certain, 'hey'. ]
( B; Heron - nights )
[ the new security officer doesn't really sleep. She tries, however. Nancy lies in the dark and closes her eyes and manages a little sleep but in the end, it's always the same. She hears a terrible growl, sees a dark, cold world and a faceless monster and wakes up gasping.
You might find her wandering at odd hours, making herself tea in the kitchen, going to sit in the shuttle bay or in the armory, reading one of her study books, writing names of people and worlds and terms in a notebook she names FLEET. ]
( C; iskaulit )
[ when she learns the truth of her destined job, she accepts it without a fuss.
It gives her easy access to what she wanted since her arrival, weapons. She places the broken piece of glass she armed herself with on the Marsiva beneath her pillow and goes to the armory.
Instinct leads her to a handgun and she takes it with her, hidden in her jacket pocket. She knows better than to try and use it inside the ship. She goes through the network, reading files and messages until she finds what she's looking for.
She knows nothing about this world but she had seen enough to let herself think she might not need to use one again. It's harder on her own, harder without Jonathan and their conversations but she pushes nerves aside. This isn't any different than shooting cans and it is certainly easier than shooting -
the thing. the monster.
It's the monster she thinks about when she enters the firing range. No beast that she has ever heard of is one of its kind. If there is one, there is another. if there is another than this time, Nancy Wheeler is going to be prepared for it when it comes.
She looks up at the lights, draws a breath when they remain steady, not a single flicker.
It's just me, she thinks, it doesn't like the light.
She thinks about the monster, she thinks about what it had done to Barb ( there is a scream in her head, dead, dead! ) and pulls the trigger once and then again and again and once more.
The noise doesn't startle her, her hand remains steady. Some people are fine dancers or singers. Nancy Wheeler is a good shot. Sixteen years old in jeans and a sweater, she loads more bullets and tries again. ]
Broadcast: no
Action: heron, iskaulit
When: all through march.
( A; Heron - Arrival )
[ The new arrival can't be more than seventeen-years old. Carrying a school bag, pins in her hair, wearing a pale pair of jeans and red jacket above her sweater. Nancy looks like a high-school girl on the way to her locker.
She had given those who had seen her arrival a little tight smile before slinking off. She never really had the new-school jitters. In Hawkins, everyone knew everyone since they were children. Nancy knew the kids in her high school since pre-school. She never really had to deal with so many strangers before.
She finds a room and places her bag, takes out her books an pencil-box. It's far from her room but it's still better than the Marsiva.
If you pass by her room, you might notice the door is open. If she sees you, she'll get up and call out, a hesitant and yet certain, 'hey'. ]
( B; Heron - nights )
[ the new security officer doesn't really sleep. She tries, however. Nancy lies in the dark and closes her eyes and manages a little sleep but in the end, it's always the same. She hears a terrible growl, sees a dark, cold world and a faceless monster and wakes up gasping.
You might find her wandering at odd hours, making herself tea in the kitchen, going to sit in the shuttle bay or in the armory, reading one of her study books, writing names of people and worlds and terms in a notebook she names FLEET. ]
( C; iskaulit )
[ when she learns the truth of her destined job, she accepts it without a fuss.
It gives her easy access to what she wanted since her arrival, weapons. She places the broken piece of glass she armed herself with on the Marsiva beneath her pillow and goes to the armory.
Instinct leads her to a handgun and she takes it with her, hidden in her jacket pocket. She knows better than to try and use it inside the ship. She goes through the network, reading files and messages until she finds what she's looking for.
She knows nothing about this world but she had seen enough to let herself think she might not need to use one again. It's harder on her own, harder without Jonathan and their conversations but she pushes nerves aside. This isn't any different than shooting cans and it is certainly easier than shooting -
the thing. the monster.
It's the monster she thinks about when she enters the firing range. No beast that she has ever heard of is one of its kind. If there is one, there is another. if there is another than this time, Nancy Wheeler is going to be prepared for it when it comes.
She looks up at the lights, draws a breath when they remain steady, not a single flicker.
It's just me, she thinks, it doesn't like the light.
She thinks about the monster, she thinks about what it had done to Barb ( there is a scream in her head, dead, dead! ) and pulls the trigger once and then again and again and once more.
The noise doesn't startle her, her hand remains steady. Some people are fine dancers or singers. Nancy Wheeler is a good shot. Sixteen years old in jeans and a sweater, she loads more bullets and tries again. ]
a.
Hello. Did you just arrive?
no subject
Yeah. Just half an hour ago. There's [ she pauses and shakes her head, closes her eyes, it's so stupid ] pudding.
[ she bites her lip and looks around her. ]
I just - I wasn't sure where it was alright for me to stay.
no subject
Yes - they do that to everyone. Regardless of whether people want it.
You're welcome to stay in any of the rooms that aren't already occupied. About half of them are empty, at present.
[Seven, he thinks, now that this one is here. Back when he had started on the ship, the twelve rooms hadn't seemed excessive. Now it did, so it's more satisfactory than not to have someone fill an empty one.]
no subject
[ she looks at the space around her. she had already put down her school bag and taken out the books, tried to make it seem a bit less foreign. It might as well be her room.
She looks about as awkward as a teeanger would be when confronted by an adult, unsure how to introduce herself or what to say. she settles for a lip-bite and a hurried. ]
I'm Nancy, Nancy Wheeler.
no subject
[And that's spoken for. She reminds him of the students he had been around at Charles's school. Not so much the handful who had followed them all to Cairo. No, she reminds him of the ones who hadn't been familiar with him, who had regarded him with mingled wariness and interest.
Erik extends his hand for her to shake. It's as good a starting place as any.]
Erik Lehnsherr. I'm the engineer on board.
no subject
[ and to think, she used to think the social rules of high school were difficult. at the very least she and barb could make fun of those. now, barb is gone and it's just her, trying to make sense of all of this.
she shakes his hand, trying to shake away her nervousness. ]
Hi. Nice to meet you.
no subject
That would be Winter. He'll introduce himself before long, I expect. He's the one with longer brown hair.
[And a metal arm, but that's easy enough to work out once she sees the man.]
Some of the others aren't so easy to locate, but you should meet Charles sooner or later.
no subject
[ some people in this place sure do have odd names she's never heard before. Erik, however, that's rather familiar. ]
He's - on the ship too, Charles? Winter is the Captain, you're an engineer, and - Charles is?
no subject
[Almost an afterthought, that last part. Erik doesn't hold much to the imaginary ranks they keep here. He gives Nancy a considering look.]
Tell me, do you know anything now that you might not have before coming here? New knowledge?
no subject
[ she smiles a bit, pointed and knowing, indicating that she understands what she's being asked even if she evades the answer for another moment. ]
I know how to use what we have in the armory.
[ and when the moment comes, as it definitely will, as nancy dreads it will, she won't hesitate to make use of that knowledge. ]
no subject
That means you have a security augment. They like to add knowledge to us so we know our place. [He gestures down the corridor.] Have you seen that room yet?
[There's no hesitation in him in accepting that's the role she's been given. She may be young, but she's old enough for it not to concern him too much.]
no subject
[ and then, feeling a bit awkward and mostly lame, she adds. ]
I wasn't sure I was allowed in just like that.
no subject
You can go anywhere on the ship. Obviously you shouldn't walk into someone's room without asking, but everywhere else is essentially a common area. You just won't be able to do much in rooms you don't have knowledge to operate.
no subject
[ a moment passes and she smiles and elaborates. ]
All of this. Do you ever get used to it? I mean, are there normal days around here?
no subject
I'm afraid no one can say if there are normal days other than you. Because you're the one who measures the day against what you're used to.
I find it to be a normal day if I can get around to cooking a meal in the kitchen. I'm a mutant, so being around those who aren't human is more normal to me than otherwise.
[At least it is now. The disquiet of his last decade of memories will have to lie silent for today.]
You may feel differently.