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driftfleet2017-08-11 05:13 pm
bellator) wrote in driftfleet2017-08-11 05:13 pm
Entry tags:
ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ғᴏʀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀs ( ᴏᴘᴇɴ )
Who: Eleven + you, yes you
Broadcast: n/a
Action: upon the different ships. yes all of them + planet
When: until 8/23
[ 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. ]
[ 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. ]
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. ]
no subject
she puts down the protein gel and inches closer, looks for that proper food he was talking about. ]
no subject
Most of this are things you can add water to and microwave it, some of it's produce. [He sets out a number of items on the table for the girl, wondering if perhaps she's mute.] My name is Psycho Mantis. You can call me Mantis if you prefer two syllables to four.
no subject
[ not mute, it would seem. only she doesn't seem to say much beyond echoing his name. she does climb into a chair and takes a look at the odd little items.
she takes something that looks like a carrot and bites into it. not bad. not bad at all. she looks at him, however; as if he's the most interesting thing she's ever seen. he can make things move. he's like her.
she's never met anyone like her.
she doesn't move, simply looks at the other items. they, too, rise into thin air before her before she lowers them back onto the table. ]
no subject
[Her cautious approach to eating is endearing in it's own way. No one is as skeptical of new food as one who's barely been around to learn about the world they're in.
And then the objects rising and falling. And then he slowly sits down, his gaze focused on her. He was young himself back when he was first building his reputation as a psychic.
His laugh is breathy, and he leans on the table.]
I never thought I would meet someone quite like myself. Powers like that seem to manifest at a young age.