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

[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. ]

[outstandingbalance]

You have TV where you're from, kid? [Judging from the clothes, Natasha would guess yes, but she'd rather not assume.] Supposedly, we're all being watched.

There's someone on the other side of the screen enjoying this.

[bellator]

My - friend has.

[ Mike. he was talking about it just the other day. eleven had no interest in it but the boys seemed to like it a lot. screens, she remembers. a TV has screens.

she looks around her and shrugs. better far away than in here with them, surely.

stuffing a fist into the box, she eats her cereal. ]

mouthbreathers.

[ she mutters. at the atroma, most likely. ]

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha assumes that, or the audience, either one. And either way, she laughs at it softly.]

That's nicer language than I'd use. But yeah, something like that.

[bellator]

Knuckleheads.

[ she tries, again. ]

Someone who's stupid.

[ look, Mike taught her a lot. ]

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha bites her lip to keep from laughing again. She wouldn't want Eleven to think it's at her. But her amusement still comes through in the way her eyes narrow and the corners of her mouth turn up.]

Maybe. It's hard to say what they're like. They never show their faces around here. But whoever they are, I'm not a fan.

I'd stick with mouthbreathers.

[bellator]

mouthbreathers.

[ she nods, the very gesture is solemn. it's important to know how to tell a mouthbreather from a knucklehead. or at least, Mike made it seem important and Eleven trusts Mike's judgment on these things.

she wipes dry blood off her nose with the back of a sleep and settles back, looking around her. ]

stay here?

[ she could get used to this little corner. ]

[outstandingbalance]

If you want to. I won't make you move, at least. But if you want, there's a room here for you.

[Natasha raises her brows a little, inclining her head slightly. It's a gentle prompt. She can easily imagine how a girl whose socialization is this poor might not be in a hurry to move into a bunk.]

Or if you want, maybe we could rearrange the cargo a little so you don't get cornered again?

[bellator]

Room?

[ she had a room, once, in the lab. a barren little space with nothing but one drawing and a doll papa once brought her. she didn't like it as much as the little corner in Mike's basement.

for now, it seems as if she prefers the cargo bay. ]

Rearrange.

[outstandingbalance]

Had a feeling you might prefer it that way.

[Natasha doesn't jump to her feet, and she isn't disappointed by the decision.

She takes the cereal box first and another handful, munching on them thoughtfully. This won't likely be a sustainable solution, but at least for the time being.]

We should get you some blankets if you're going to camp out here too.