Eleven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
savingthrows) wrote2019-07-31 01:14 am
savingthrows) wrote2019-07-31 01:14 am
IC Inbox for
[ So Riku is sad. That much her smaller mind can grasp and understand, though perhaps the nuances are lost to her, or only shapes most vaguely. Eleven starts raising the bag of make up, then slowly lowers it.
There's a deep line between her brows, some gears slowly turning.
Riku is... okay in the sense of alive. But Riku is sad, and being swallowed by the hole he's not looking at, because he worries about others and not himself.
Eleven realizes, then, that she can never tell him how she tried to find him. He'd worry, he'd blame himself. She doesn't want to add to the things that could make him disappear again.
At least he's not alone. At least Bruce watches over him. And she doesn't know much about Bruce, but she trusts him this far.
And if he's watching over Riku so Riku can deal with his sadness and now get swallowed... ]
Do you... look at yours?
There's a deep line between her brows, some gears slowly turning.
Riku is... okay in the sense of alive. But Riku is sad, and being swallowed by the hole he's not looking at, because he worries about others and not himself.
Eleven realizes, then, that she can never tell him how she tried to find him. He'd worry, he'd blame himself. She doesn't want to add to the things that could make him disappear again.
At least he's not alone. At least Bruce watches over him. And she doesn't know much about Bruce, but she trusts him this far.
And if he's watching over Riku so Riku can deal with his sadness and now get swallowed... ]
Do you... look at yours?
[Eleven's aim has always been good. He doubts that it's intentional, she is, he thinks, one of the kindest people he has ever met. But her instincts always lead her to the right place to press and this is no different. Bruce watches her process the words, use them to contextualize what she's seen and heard, what she knows thus far- and when she asks this of him in kind Bruce knows he's been given the opportunity to lie. To slip the metaphorical noose.
Instead, Bruce takes a step forward, then another, and moves into the light. The stitches around his hip were done at an angle, with his left hand, so the skin is tighter than it should be and this limits his ability to kneel. To come down to her level. In bares his face to her instead, the true extent of the damage. Riku is an accomplished combatant and under the hallucinations, compelled by fear and desperation and pain he'd held nothing back. There is a mark through one of his brows and across the bridge of Bruce's nose that promise to scar. The bruising along his face is still dark in many places though it's begun to yellow in others. Traces can be seen across his knuckles but they're ugly along his forearms, the brunt of his defense.]
I try to.
[He doesn't look like he regrets his decision, and he doesn't.
But this too is part of the truth.]
It isn't always enough.
[In the quiet of the woods Bruce pivots, turning to face the thicket of trees, and beginning to walk. It's a silent invitation for her to follow.]
I don't think it's so different from falling and scraping your knee. Maybe you need help to stand up again, or help to clean it. You shouldn't try to ride your bike again while it's still hurting, if you can help it. But once it's begun to heal, you can help other people when they fall.
We need each other.
Instead, Bruce takes a step forward, then another, and moves into the light. The stitches around his hip were done at an angle, with his left hand, so the skin is tighter than it should be and this limits his ability to kneel. To come down to her level. In bares his face to her instead, the true extent of the damage. Riku is an accomplished combatant and under the hallucinations, compelled by fear and desperation and pain he'd held nothing back. There is a mark through one of his brows and across the bridge of Bruce's nose that promise to scar. The bruising along his face is still dark in many places though it's begun to yellow in others. Traces can be seen across his knuckles but they're ugly along his forearms, the brunt of his defense.]
I try to.
[He doesn't look like he regrets his decision, and he doesn't.
But this too is part of the truth.]
It isn't always enough.
[In the quiet of the woods Bruce pivots, turning to face the thicket of trees, and beginning to walk. It's a silent invitation for her to follow.]
I don't think it's so different from falling and scraping your knee. Maybe you need help to stand up again, or help to clean it. You shouldn't try to ride your bike again while it's still hurting, if you can help it. But once it's begun to heal, you can help other people when they fall.
We need each other.
Not bad, last month.
[ is he popping into her inbox unannounced... to tell her she did good? yeah. but she did. he's glad peter made it out unharmed. ]
[ is he popping into her inbox unannounced... to tell her she did good? yeah. but she did. he's glad peter made it out unharmed. ]
Next time Eleven visits the post office, the Postmaster General will give her a package!
"A small wrapped package containing homemade sweets, including homemade marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate, and homemade peppermint sticks. These are all wrapped in cellophane and put into a clean shoe."
The package is from St. Nicholas.
"A small wrapped package containing homemade sweets, including homemade marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate, and homemade peppermint sticks. These are all wrapped in cellophane and put into a clean shoe."
The package is from St. Nicholas.
[ On the morning of the 25th, Eleven might find at her doorstep a parcel which is wrapped in that naked Santa paper, except someone has gone through the trouble of individually painting each Santa in various clothes.
Inside, she'll find a stuffed alpaca which someone has adorned with a flower crown made of fabric.
There is a card attached reading "To Eleven, From Mr. Fell." ]
Inside, she'll find a stuffed alpaca which someone has adorned with a flower crown made of fabric.
There is a card attached reading "To Eleven, From Mr. Fell." ]
[ as of the morning of the 25th, eleven will find a card with an envelope addressed to 'el'. inside, there will be a message that reads 'to el, merry christmas, let's see if you've hit santa's nice list! - p.'
it'll be resting atop a gift wrapped in paper that eleven will recognise from secret santa. it'll have a hangtag that reads, simply: ELEVEN. inside is a book: mathmetics, poetry and beauty. (sorry, el, peter's a nerd.) ]
it'll be resting atop a gift wrapped in paper that eleven will recognise from secret santa. it'll have a hangtag that reads, simply: ELEVEN. inside is a book: mathmetics, poetry and beauty. (sorry, el, peter's a nerd.) ]
[ There's a knock on Peter's door at the Invincible. Tentative, almost too quiet to be heard. Beneath the door the shadow of two feet, shuffling a little, on the verge of retreating. ]
[Some time early-ish in the day, the Soldier comes to knock on Eleven's house door, and once she opens it (or Nancy gets her for them), presents her with a homemade stuffed lion: tawny-colored, a little floppy, with shredded black flannel for a mane, and with large blue buttons for eyes. They offer it a little nervously-- she's probably too old for stuffed toys-- but dammit, it's a lion so it's thematic, and they worked hard on making it despite second-guessing themselves every step of the way. Everyone could use something soft to hug on a bad day.
It's cute, at least, in a very 30s-era-toy kind of way, and very soft.]
((you don't have to reply if you don't want to, I know you're busy :D ))
It's cute, at least, in a very 30s-era-toy kind of way, and very soft.]
((you don't have to reply if you don't want to, I know you're busy :D ))
[ peter almost doesn't hear the knock. at first, he thinks it's coming from somewhere else — next door, maybe, or the room across the hall, but then he catches sight of the flickering light beneath the door.
christmas isn't quite the same without family and he's been trying to ignore the fact that he'd have missed it back home by a couple of months anyway. he's been trying not to think about the fact that may might have celebrated with mj, or at feast, or—.
(nope.)
he'd given out a few presents — nothing much, but there was only so much they could do here. the closest to a sense of normality and familiarity and community; and when he opens the door whilst he's not surprised to see eleven, not really, he is a little bemused— ]
Shouldn't you be with Steve and Nancy? [ are the first words out of his mouth, punctuated by an almost immediate wine because he didn't mean it how he's sure that sounded. a breath and a quick addition: ] Merry Christmas, El.
christmas isn't quite the same without family and he's been trying to ignore the fact that he'd have missed it back home by a couple of months anyway. he's been trying not to think about the fact that may might have celebrated with mj, or at feast, or—.
(nope.)
he'd given out a few presents — nothing much, but there was only so much they could do here. the closest to a sense of normality and familiarity and community; and when he opens the door whilst he's not surprised to see eleven, not really, he is a little bemused— ]
Shouldn't you be with Steve and Nancy? [ are the first words out of his mouth, punctuated by an almost immediate wine because he didn't mean it how he's sure that sounded. a breath and a quick addition: ] Merry Christmas, El.
[ She shrugs a little, almost dismissive, eyes down. Toe of her shoe scuffing against the floor. She's spending a lot of time with Steve and Nancy. And whenever she can, with her walkie talkie. ]
I guess.
[ She's still looking down. As if the tip of her shoe holds the answer to the mysteries of the universe. She's frowning, impatient with her own uncharacteristic uncertainty. ]
I don't. Know much about Christmas.
[ Slow, deep breath. Her voice goes very quiet. ]
You're supposed to be with family.
[ She holds out a gift then. It's poorly wrapped, large, vaguely rectangular, and gives when touched. Something soft, but not in a box. ]
I guess.
[ She's still looking down. As if the tip of her shoe holds the answer to the mysteries of the universe. She's frowning, impatient with her own uncharacteristic uncertainty. ]
I don't. Know much about Christmas.
[ Slow, deep breath. Her voice goes very quiet. ]
You're supposed to be with family.
[ She holds out a gift then. It's poorly wrapped, large, vaguely rectangular, and gives when touched. Something soft, but not in a box. ]
[ for a moment, peter feels very, very dumb. for a moment, he's not sure if she's saying he's family or if she misses hers and—
he decides it doesn't really matter, not with the way her shoe toes the floor, or the way she studies her foot and the floor. not for the first time either, he thinks about how cruel it is for children to be here, whatever the truth of here may be. he wonders if it would have been better to ignore the holidays entirely — they weren't on earth, they weren't even all human, let alone—.
(but then, eleven had wanted secret santa, hadn't she?)
he glances back towards his room, then back at eleven, and he props the door open with a foot as he squats and takes the present. he squeezes it once, tentatively, eyebrows pulling together into a puzzled, questioning frown. ]
Friends and family. [ he half-admits, half-answers; can't help himself and thinks of the christmases spent with reed and sue and johnny and the kids. family, if not family. ] Not sure if the rest of it's important, [ he adds with a quirk of a smile and he gives the present a slight jiggle. ] It alright if I open this now?
he decides it doesn't really matter, not with the way her shoe toes the floor, or the way she studies her foot and the floor. not for the first time either, he thinks about how cruel it is for children to be here, whatever the truth of here may be. he wonders if it would have been better to ignore the holidays entirely — they weren't on earth, they weren't even all human, let alone—.
(but then, eleven had wanted secret santa, hadn't she?)
he glances back towards his room, then back at eleven, and he props the door open with a foot as he squats and takes the present. he squeezes it once, tentatively, eyebrows pulling together into a puzzled, questioning frown. ]
Friends and family. [ he half-admits, half-answers; can't help himself and thinks of the christmases spent with reed and sue and johnny and the kids. family, if not family. ] Not sure if the rest of it's important, [ he adds with a quirk of a smile and he gives the present a slight jiggle. ] It alright if I open this now?
Yes.
[ She looks up then, eyes wide, hopeful but also with a touch of trepidation. She's not good at gift giving.
She's only done it once before. ]
I opened mine.
[ She doesn't understand many of the words.
Not yet. Learning to not just read the book but understand it...
Eleven knows, intrinsically, that she doesn't have a future. Didn't have one before Beacon, has even less of one, somehow, here.
But it's okay. The book is something to look forward to in this place that is beginning to stretch like the hallways to the small, dark room in which she was alone.
Inside the parcel is what looks, at first, like a thin blanket, just it's a little irregular, a little frayed at the edge. Like someone took a piece of fabric and cut it with scissors, not knowing it'd fray.
A cord has been tied around two of the edges - not fastened with thread or other sophisticated means, just tied around the fabric. ]
It's a cape.
[ An ugly cape that she made herself not knowing how easily it might come apart. ]
I thought... a mask. But I didn't know what animal.
[ Bird and spider are taken. ]
So... I thought. Cape. We can make you a mask. But... you have to be careful. You can be a hero. When you have no powers. But leave hero fighting to me. I can fight.
[ He doesn't need to know they haven't returned, those powers. The important thing is that he understands not to think he should take his cape and run at monsters and die. He can be her hero without trying to be heroic. ]
[ She looks up then, eyes wide, hopeful but also with a touch of trepidation. She's not good at gift giving.
She's only done it once before. ]
I opened mine.
[ She doesn't understand many of the words.
Not yet. Learning to not just read the book but understand it...
Eleven knows, intrinsically, that she doesn't have a future. Didn't have one before Beacon, has even less of one, somehow, here.
But it's okay. The book is something to look forward to in this place that is beginning to stretch like the hallways to the small, dark room in which she was alone.
Inside the parcel is what looks, at first, like a thin blanket, just it's a little irregular, a little frayed at the edge. Like someone took a piece of fabric and cut it with scissors, not knowing it'd fray.
A cord has been tied around two of the edges - not fastened with thread or other sophisticated means, just tied around the fabric. ]
It's a cape.
[ An ugly cape that she made herself not knowing how easily it might come apart. ]
I thought... a mask. But I didn't know what animal.
[ Bird and spider are taken. ]
So... I thought. Cape. We can make you a mask. But... you have to be careful. You can be a hero. When you have no powers. But leave hero fighting to me. I can fight.
[ He doesn't need to know they haven't returned, those powers. The important thing is that he understands not to think he should take his cape and run at monsters and die. He can be her hero without trying to be heroic. ]
I read it a couple of years ago. You know, a lot of people just think of maths as numbers, but it can be a lot more than that, and it can help you view the world with more than words. [ peter comments with a slight smile. science, first and foremost, is his thing, but getting her anything to do with science would've been a gross misstep. food would've been easy, simple, but he'd wanted to get her something that meant something to the both of them.
(maybe.)
he thinks betty had told him once that he's pretty good at getting the spirit of a gift, but not necessarily the gift itself, only in a decidedly more betty way. he'd opted to take it as a compliment, at least up until his first christmas with mj, when they were still figuring out who and what they were to each other — after gwen, but before everything else — mj had said they should make each other mixtapes. peter hadn't know where to begin: music wasn't really his thing, and she'd said it should be something important, so he'd recorded the audio from half a talk on magnetic fields.
he straightens back up and nudges the door open a little more with an elbow — he thinks it'll be a little weird to open the present and leave her in the hallway. the room looks lived in, in the way that a space that's been occupied for six months would be, but there's not a whole lot there that's personal — a couple of chairs, a few books that identify themselves as belonging to peter by virtue of topic; some paper in a loose, vague pile on the top of a desk, a couple of pens, a baseball bat newly gifted to him by way of secret santa.
he starts to unwrap it as he moves back inside; it's a cape, she says, and he's not entirely sure, at first, if he'd have been able to put two and two together without eleven elaborating. as he pulls it out, it's a little more obvious. surprise gives way to a laugh; there's a slight twinge of guilt at the fact that he she knows both him and spider-man, but not that they're one and the same. ]
Thank you, El. [ a breath of a pause, and he wraps the cape round himself— ] Like this? [ beat. ] And am I supposed to have a hero name, or is it just for looks?
(maybe.)
he thinks betty had told him once that he's pretty good at getting the spirit of a gift, but not necessarily the gift itself, only in a decidedly more betty way. he'd opted to take it as a compliment, at least up until his first christmas with mj, when they were still figuring out who and what they were to each other — after gwen, but before everything else — mj had said they should make each other mixtapes. peter hadn't know where to begin: music wasn't really his thing, and she'd said it should be something important, so he'd recorded the audio from half a talk on magnetic fields.
he straightens back up and nudges the door open a little more with an elbow — he thinks it'll be a little weird to open the present and leave her in the hallway. the room looks lived in, in the way that a space that's been occupied for six months would be, but there's not a whole lot there that's personal — a couple of chairs, a few books that identify themselves as belonging to peter by virtue of topic; some paper in a loose, vague pile on the top of a desk, a couple of pens, a baseball bat newly gifted to him by way of secret santa.
he starts to unwrap it as he moves back inside; it's a cape, she says, and he's not entirely sure, at first, if he'd have been able to put two and two together without eleven elaborating. as he pulls it out, it's a little more obvious. surprise gives way to a laugh; there's a slight twinge of guilt at the fact that he she knows both him and spider-man, but not that they're one and the same. ]
Thank you, El. [ a breath of a pause, and he wraps the cape round himself— ] Like this? [ beat. ] And am I supposed to have a hero name, or is it just for looks?
[ Happy holidays! There's a little box of homemade cookies for Eleven even though Midge doesn't celebrate Christmas. She figures the cheer will be needed. There's a note attached: ]
Eleven,
The secret gift exchanged you organized was absolutely perfect. Not many girls your age would do something so thoughtful for the entire town.
Enjoy the cookies, let me know if you ever need anything.
-Miriam
Eleven,
The secret gift exchanged you organized was absolutely perfect. Not many girls your age would do something so thoughtful for the entire town.
Enjoy the cookies, let me know if you ever need anything.
-Miriam
does this mean you are st nicholas
thank you
the cookies are very nice
do you want to share
thank you
the cookies are very nice
do you want to share
Eleven,
I'm too pretty to be St. Nicholas, and Jews don't have saints. But you're right in the gift giving thing. You can just call me an aunt or something, they give you gifts, too.
I would LOVE to share, but I've made a little extra for myself. You should offer them to someone you don't know yet. Make some friends!
-Miriam
I'm too pretty to be St. Nicholas, and Jews don't have saints. But you're right in the gift giving thing. You can just call me an aunt or something, they give you gifts, too.
I would LOVE to share, but I've made a little extra for myself. You should offer them to someone you don't know yet. Make some friends!
-Miriam
[Attached is a picture taken just outside the church. It's a small army of tiny snowmen (no taller than 5-10 inches) or perhaps more accurately snow sigillaria. If you look, each snowman has an initial on its belly to correspond to the people Jason considers himself close to. Written in the snow are the words: Happy Saturnalia & Merry Christmas.
He couldn't find enough gifts for everyone he wanted to, so he sculpted these an sent out a sort of Christmas card instead. Of course, the snowmen are still there in person for the foreseeable future.]
He couldn't find enough gifts for everyone he wanted to, so he sculpted these an sent out a sort of Christmas card instead. Of course, the snowmen are still there in person for the foreseeable future.]
does that mean hes ugly or just that you are super super pretty
i mean you are super super pretty but im wondering if he is ugly
whats a saint
ill share the cookies
ive done that with halloween candy too i think i still have some if you would prefer that i got a lot
highest regards
eleven
i mean you are super super pretty but im wondering if he is ugly
whats a saint
ill share the cookies
ive done that with halloween candy too i think i still have some if you would prefer that i got a lot
highest regards
eleven
[ It makes her smile. ]
we make a good fighting team
[ Eleven isn't that good with gifts, the entire concept is still very new to her. She knows more about it now. This is a good gift, she thinks, and wishes she had something similar for him. ]
we make a good fighting team
[ Eleven isn't that good with gifts, the entire concept is still very new to her. She knows more about it now. This is a good gift, she thinks, and wishes she had something similar for him. ]
Guess who never got the notif for this and Peter's tag from the same day, backtagging like whoaaaa
savingthrows
2020-01-07 07:14 pm (UTC)(link)
You too. Are you... okay?
[ They'd all taken a beating, inevitably. But it's good to know whom else she can trust with her friends' safety. ]
[ They'd all taken a beating, inevitably. But it's good to know whom else she can trust with her friends' safety. ]
[ Later, he will get a text from Eleven. It's a picture taken inside her room. There's a blanket fort there, and visible inside of it are a stuffed alpaca and lion, cozily leaning against one another. Tucked behind them, almost not visible, is what appears to be a walkie talkie. The plushies are protecting it. ]
thank you fell
thank you fell
[ She waltzes up to him, shaking her head slightly, and helps adjust the cape. The adjustment makes absolutely no difference in how it sits on him, but it's important to her, so it gets done. ]
Like this. It fits.
[ How she could possibly determine that is anyone's guess. ]
Yes. You need a secret idea.
[ Identity. Close. ]
So, a hero name. It's not allowed to have Doctor in it. Or be about science.
[ That's a personal rule she just made up. ]
Like this. It fits.
[ How she could possibly determine that is anyone's guess. ]
Yes. You need a secret idea.
[ Identity. Close. ]
So, a hero name. It's not allowed to have Doctor in it. Or be about science.
[ That's a personal rule she just made up. ]
Sorry this is so late, but for them cute feels to make up for feel-feels
savingthrows
2020-01-07 07:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She accepts the toy with quiet delight, and trades him an army of bird origami for it. There's no visible progress in her work on them, but they'e grown bigger, as she's moved from candy wrappers to other materials, and has decorated them with her array of colourful pens.
A day or two later, they will receive a photo in their inbox, of a blanket fort. Inside of it, the lion and a stuffed alpaca are leaning against each other, almost but not quite hiding a walkie talkie behind them, as if they're guarding it.]
A day or two later, they will receive a photo in their inbox, of a blanket fort. Inside of it, the lion and a stuffed alpaca are leaning against each other, almost but not quite hiding a walkie talkie behind them, as if they're guarding it.]
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