[ Ah, the moral quandary. Not that Nancy would know, but Eleven is so easily enabled, so easily led astray. The moment she even remotely trusts someone, she can be swayed into doing things so very easily. Her like of self-sustained moral compass makes her tragically malleable. ]
Stories sound fun, too. [ She's quiet, for a moment, then admits: ] I never did the Halloween things. I wanted to. But it's not allowed. Too dangerous. The bad men could find me.
[ The mention is casual, almost off-hand. Like it doesn't matter. ]
Kali is... Eight. Like I'm Eleven. [ She hesitates a moment, then she holds out her free arm for Nancy to see - there, on the inside of her wrist, a tattoo. Stark, black ink on her pale skin. 011. Eleven. ] Papa stole us. For the lab.
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Stories sound fun, too. [ She's quiet, for a moment, then admits: ] I never did the Halloween things. I wanted to. But it's not allowed. Too dangerous. The bad men could find me.
[ The mention is casual, almost off-hand. Like it doesn't matter. ]
Kali is... Eight. Like I'm Eleven. [ She hesitates a moment, then she holds out her free arm for Nancy to see - there, on the inside of her wrist, a tattoo. Stark, black ink on her pale skin. 011. Eleven. ] Papa stole us. For the lab.