ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ғᴏʀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀs ( ᴏᴘᴇɴ )

[bellator]

Who: Eleven + you, yes you
Broadcast: n/a
Action: upon the different ships. yes all of them + planet
When: until 8/23

( a; your ship, yes, YOUR ship )

[ it doesn't really matter where she finds herself at. a ship might get a happy tune and some pudding or cake but the girl slips away before she can be noticed by too many people.

she doesn't seem to understand the basic concepts of being assigned anywhere. eleven hides in a little alley and she cries for the better part of an hour, rocking herself back and forth, calming down a storm she feels brewing at the back of her mind.

she knows this. she knows the panic that comes with being alone but she also knows what to do.

so for the first part of her stay, she knows little to nothing about being assigned anywhere. she simply treats the entire fleet as a survival area of a sort. and so, if you hear an odd noise at night coming from your ship's cargo bay? it's not a ghost.

she's a sight, to be sure. shaved hair, a once-pretty pink dress that is now muddied and dirty. her nose is bleeding and - she's eating your food. whatever it is you have, it's on the floor. vegetables, fruit, space cereal covered in protein goo.

judging by the demin jacket resting on the floor, she's been sleeping there. upon seeing anyone, she'd startle and do whatever it is a lost twelve year old would do upon being caught stealing.

she runs. you better be quick if you want to catch up with her. ]

( b; planetside )

[ there are too many people and far too much noise.

eleven can be seen sitting on her own at different corners of the streets, eyeing things with a mix of fascination and suspicion. the amusement park, the shops, the weirdos.

she's used to being one, herself. she seems to look at the aliens as if they have something in common.

one might mistake her for a street-child with the way she looks and the way she acts, keeping to the shadows, observing everyone and everything.

approaching her would result in an attempt to slink away.

one thing is certain, the girl is scared.

she's not exactly friendly, either. ]

Comments

[bellator]

[ she has an open bag of what must be space cereal in her lap and peanut butter gel on her inner arm. she touches a finger to it, prepares to try it and then -

when she talks, the girl will scramble, moving to her feet, grabbing the bag and moving backwards. only eleven's back meets a heavy box and she looks back at it before she looks at her.

the initial reaction is always fear. ]

[outstandingbalance]

[That's telling, but not exactly surprising. Natasha doesn't try to move closer.

Instead, she crouches down on her heels. She doesn't trust the newcomer enough to sit down entirely, and she knows how dangerous even children can be, but she does make herself smaller, less threatening, giving up some advantage.]

Okay. You can stand there. I don't me. [She glances at the peanut butter gel, then back at the girl's face.] Is it good?

[bellator]

[ if she could, she would run. eleven knows she could run. the box could move but the option is also frightening. if the box moves and the woman tells the bad men -

she watches her in silence. looks at her thumb. she meant to try it, only a bit. when she sucks on her finger, it's almost childlike. she almost looks younger than she is.

she frowns. she knows this. ]

peanut.

[ she says, almost surprised to find something familiar. ]

butter. on bread.

[ mike would take it to school. he brought her an uneaten one once. ]

[outstandingbalance]

Well, it's not exactly on bread right now, is it? But close enough.

[Natasha nods, taking that first success. When she first saw the girl, she'd worried it would be harder than that to get her to communicate.]

If you want it on bread, we have some. Or something like it. We could make you a sandwich?

[bellator]

[ she takes a seat, moves to tug her denim jacket back to her lap. she knows what a sandwich is. she doesn't know who 'we' is and she doesn't dare to ask. it could be a trap. it could be what would lead her back to the place where she ran away from. and with Mike gone, Dustin, Lucas - who would know to look for her?

to one of the boys, she's a traitor. eleven looks at her jacket, she says nothing. she only watches her. not hostile. merely on guard and now, again, afraid. ]

[outstandingbalance]

Oh, no sandwich. [Natasha shrugs, not particularly offended or disappointed. After the girl sits, she does too, settling herself on the floor.] You have a name, kid?

[bellator]

[ she knows the answer to that. the one that seemed to work for Mike, for anyone she met after the lab. she sits quietly for a minute, looking at her. when there is nothing but the question, when the woman doesn't leave, she turns her arm, shows her the tattoo on the skin there.

0 1 1.

it's a simply calculation. if she tells her, maybe the woman wouldn't take the cereal away. ]

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha nods as though that's a reasonable answer to the question, though her chest tightens at the answer. The implied dehumanization is too familiar.]

Nice to meet you, Eleven.

[She points to herself, in case that's clearer.]

Natasha.

[bellator]

Natasha

[ she repeats. not a name she heard before. but then, she heard so few. she had known so few women. she looks at her. pretty, she thinks. not like Mike's sister but still. pretty.

eleven feels pale in comparison, especially without her wig. she picks a few cereal off the floor and eats them. ]

Eleven.

[ she affirms, with a rather serious nod. ]

[outstandingbalance]

Welcome to the Vanquish, Eleven. Looks like you're going to be staying with us now.

[Natasha doesn't give the warmest welcome; that might be for the best, though. Eleven doesn't seem like she'd take an energetic meeting all that well.]

We might be seeing a fair amount from us.

[bellator]

Vanquish.

[ the word itself doesn't seem to make any sense to her, nor the notion of a welcome. she does understand the concept of staying.

eleven is young and there are many things she doesn't understand. she's not stupid, however. she knows Mike isn't here. she knows she's very far from her soft bed at his house. she knows she's alone.

but she can't simply stay put. not when she knows it might be, ]

Not safe.

[outstandingbalance]

What's not safe?

[Natasha asks it in a calm voice, but she's paying attention. Whatever it is this girl expects, Natasha isn't going to treat it less seriously because she's young or because she's a girl.]

[bellator]

Not safe.

[ she repeats. it's hard to tell what she's worried about as she won't offer many explanations. she can't speak of the upside down or the monster ( the boys had an odd name for it, she won't repeat that either ). she frowns, tries to think of a way to put how unsafe her presence is to these people she doesn't even know. she ends up with, ]

bad men.

[outstandingbalance]

Wherever you were before, you're a long, long way from there now.

[She doesn't for a moment doubt there were bad men. A girl doesn't end up like this on her own.]

A long way from the bad men.

[bellator]

[ a long way, makes sense in an odd enough fashion. this part of the world is unlike anything she had ever witnessed. she's far from Mike's basement, far from the cozy little nook he created out of blankets and pillows.

she's far away from her demons too. it does make sense.

she nods, a firm gesture. ]

I understand.

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha nods with her, less firmly but sincere.]

Good.

[Then she cocks her head slightly, her expression reserved but gentle in it's way.]

You have questions? Not that you seem like a big talker, but there's a lot going on.

[bellator]

Good.

[ she echoes, seemingly without purpose. it's important to affirm an understanding. it's what she had to do most of her life in the lab, make it clear that she understands what's being asked of her.

she shakes her head. she does, indeed, have questions but none that she can easily put to words. there's too much and eleven hasn't learned to sort through it all yet. instead, she looks at the box of cereal and nudges it in her direction.

returning what she stole, it would seem. ]

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha will take the cereal box seriously, glance inside, reach in for a handful, and eat a few pieces before passing the box back.]

[bellator]

[ it gets a smile. a soft, crooked thing; there one moment and gone the next but she does take the box back, spills a bit of its content in her lap. she seems to eat a whole bunch, as much as she can grab. not very graceful but it is effective.

she does seem bothered by something. she looks around, almost as if she can hear an annoying fly buzzing around here before looking back at her and gesturing to the back of her head where the augment is.

she knows it's there. she seems to be able to almost hear it working. but there's a question she doesn't seem to know how to ask.

what is it? ]

[outstandingbalance]

[That's good enough for Natasha. She's not looking to work miracles with a feral child, but like with all feral animals, food goes a long way. Eventually maybe she'll have a little trust too.

When Eleven indicates the augment, Natasha doesn't have a hard time inferring her meaning.]

The augment. That'show the Atroma keep us under control. And how they make sure we know how to do our jobs. You can access it, if you think about things a little.

Mostly, I don't recommend playing with it.

[bellator]

Keep watch.

[ she seems to understand that without being told. it's not entirely unlike the lab. a little kinder, even. she hasn't been asked to do anything and the rooms are lit. she does so fear the dark.

she listens to her augment, almost, hums and nods. ]

It has to stay.

[outstandingbalance]

For now, at least. [Natasha sighs softly, through her nose. She doesn't like it either.]

[bellator]

[ though she's not much of talker, she seems to understand non-verbal interactions just fine. she hands her the box again, as if that might cheer her up. ]

Atroma?

[outstandingbalance]

[That gets a sort of crooked half smile from Natasha, one of her more honest smiles. She takes the cereal and helps herself to some more before setting it down again between them.

The smile doesn't last long when she starts answering the question.]

It's a corporation. They're the ones who bring us here, run the ships, run the whole show.

[bellator]

Show?

[ so it's not quite like the lab. at once, eleven know that atroma aren't physically present but they are, indeed, omnipresent. she feels them even if she can't see them.

it reminds her of the monster. ]