021 ☣ Open floodspam + stuff for Erik

[fridgetothefire]

[She wakes up early, even though there's no sunrise coming through her window, no harsh, glittering mountain vista, and no chickens to feed for the last two years. She spends a few minutes - three, maybe - excitedly exploring her room, treasuring the weird feeling of belonging and safety and freedom it gives her. But that doesn't last long, so she pushes out the painted door and immediately goes next door.

He's not her father, but he is, and it's weird. But she knows how she feels, and she trusts herself, trusts her instincts. She knocks on the door, excited pounding with all the strength in her little fist.]

Daaaaaaddy! Daddy wake up!


Hallways

[Anya is six, though she looks closer to five to anyone used to children raised on modern nutrition. Her hair is in little pigtail braids, a little less neatly pleated on one side, because she did them herself and she's not ambidextrous. She wears skirts with the hems let out, and stockings, and a blouse whose sleeves don't quite cover the ridged, shiny burn scars that skate up the outside edges of her arms like defensive wounds.

She roams the halls looking for her friends - because she has friends now, she's sure of it, a steady warmth in her chest even if she can't remember the details, eager to investigate everyone she comes across in case they make the little compass needle resting there twitch. She runs in short bursts, short braids trailing behind her, then pauses to bend over and gasp for a minute, still not used to the new limits on her lungs, or simply living in hope that if she pushes them enough, they'll eventually give.]

Wait up!


Library

[She flits around, stares at the shark in fascination for ten minutes at a stretch. She climbs one of the wheeled ladders and tries surreptitiously to ride it, almost - but not quite - falling off. She trails through the shelves, staring in glee at the bewildering array, even more impressive than the one in the fortress. She might end up falling asleep over a very large illustrated compendium of Oz, dwarfed by the large armchair she's nestled in.]


Deck

[She's sitting on the railing, ankles tucked around the lower bar, perfectly steady in her perch, head tipped back, staring at the stars as they go by. It's strange and beautiful and endless. She loves it.]


Common room

[The plastic knitting needles are almost as long as her forearms, and her lip is trembling a little. The hat she had half-started is a bit beyond her current capabilities, and the more she tries to fix what she's done, the more it becomes snarled. She can do it, though. She's not going to cry.]

[OOC: replies will come from flatscamp.]

Comments

[flatscamp]

[There's clothes in her size in a neat stack, and otherwise the room is unchanged.]

I want to! Mama taught me how really well.

[surrenders]

[There's nothing new that she can see, and she isn't going to try and search and make it look like prison.]

You can teach him a lot. You get dressed, I'll do up your hair, then we can go.

[She wants to go see her friends too, to be honest.]

[flatscamp]

[She pulls the cape-turned-curtain across the alcove of her bed and changes into something vaguely more pool-suitable, then bounds out, fetching Lua the brush and comb and tugging her over to the windowseat to do it.]

[surrenders]

[Lua really hopes that this Anya hasn't figured out what her curtain really is. That's a lot of questions neither she nor Erik are probably prepared to answer. She sits down next to the girl and combs her braids back out, careful as she does so.]

You usually do this yourself?

[flatscamp]

Some days. Most days.

[surrenders]

Should have known. I keep ending up with little boys to watch, or grown girls, never had a girl before you.

[flatscamp]

Really?

[It's just kind of mild curiosity, mixed with a child's surprise that there's anything someone as amazing as Lua hasn't done.]

[surrenders]

[She tries to remember how tight she wanted her braids as a kid, making sure she doesn't pull.]

Yeah. Last time we had a lot of kids, I had a five-year-old boy for three days, a kid who grew up with a nanny. And the last girl I had before you, she was older than me.

So you let me know if I'm treating you like a baby, all right?

[flatscamp]

[She laughs.]

Okay, I will!

[surrenders]

Good. You're a smart kid, so I need to let you be smart.

[flatscamp]

[She blushes happily, not that Lua can really see. But she knows to be polite.]

Thank you, Lua.

[surrenders]

[She doesn't say much, just pats Anya's shoulder before finishing up her braids, tying them off with one last tweak to make sure they're perfect.]

Your dad doesn't tell you the same thing, I'll make sure he does. My friends got everything else for you up top if you're ready.

[flatscamp]

It's okay. You don't have to tell him anything.

[This just a little too quickly. Whatever she has with Erik, Anya really doesn't want to risk upsetting it. But she hops to her feet and takes Lua's hand, indicating that she's all ready to go.]