fridgetothefire: (merry-go-rounds and booze)
Anya Lehnsherr | Earth 97400 ([personal profile] fridgetothefire) wrote2013-08-09 10:06 am

021 ☣ Open floodspam + stuff for Erik

[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 [personal profile] flatscamp.]
wecanavenge: (And while the world sleeps we are awake)

[personal profile] wecanavenge 2013-08-11 04:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[He has to search around for a decent enough chair, but he finds one and sets it in front of the counter for her, before going in search of the measuring cup. Both are brought to her with a 'yes Chef,' or a 'here, Chef.']

Anything else?
flatscamp: (hopeful)

[personal profile] flatscamp 2013-08-11 04:25 pm (UTC)(link)
You crack the eggs in that bowl.

[She's gotten pretty good at it, but it's still an effort with her little hands. She measures and sifts the dry ingredients with comfortable familiarity, points to the correct bowl just a little imperiously with a wooden stirring spoon.]
Edited 2013-08-11 16:25 (UTC)
wecanavenge: (mutant and proud)

[personal profile] wecanavenge 2013-08-11 04:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[He cracks the eggs easily, with one hand and no shell spills. Erik's fine with letting her lead, and though he might have been slightly afraid this was going to end in disaster, she proves him wrong pretty immediately. She's good at this - and that's a shame, he thinks, that there was no one looking out for her, doing this for her. He doesn't argue with directions, just follows them.]
flatscamp: (tiny stoic)

[personal profile] flatscamp 2013-08-11 05:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[When she was smaller, she helped mama every morning, fetching eggs from the yard and stirring and mixing while she did the more complicated parts. She learned it all then. Sometimes she still does, on Magda's good days. But she can manage through the bad.

She giggles at first at being addressed as 'Chef', but it wears thin after a few more repetitions. She doesn't frown, quite, but bites her lip a little.]

Can you just. Call me Anya, please? I'm sorry.

wecanavenge: (here's to arguing for the next 50 years)

[personal profile] wecanavenge 2013-08-12 01:23 am (UTC)(link)
Of course. [He smiles at her, head tilted a little.] You don't have to be sorry. Here - will you mash these up for me? [He hands her a bowl of strawberries.]
flatscamp: (hopeful)

[personal profile] flatscamp 2013-08-12 08:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[She smiles, nervous/hopeful. She just - wants to hear her name, for reasons she doesn't really understand.]

Okay!

[She gets a fork and mashes them very meticulously]
wecanavenge: (I suppose you have a point)

[personal profile] wecanavenge 2013-08-12 08:29 pm (UTC)(link)
That's perfect. [And he tends to the blintzes, filling and rolling and frying them. The smell rises, and he smiles a little at the faint memory it pulls.]

Will you get me a plate, Anya?
flatscamp: (goody!)

[personal profile] flatscamp 2013-08-12 09:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[BEAMING]

[She scrambles after it, only slowing when she has breakable dinnerware in hand, and then not very much.]

Here you go, daddy!
wecanavenge: (And while the world sleeps we are awake)

[personal profile] wecanavenge 2013-08-12 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[He's going to miss hearing that, and the moment he realizes it will kill him.]

Thank you. [And he is picking them out as they finish and piling them on the plate. It doesn't take too long; he's a deft enough hand with cooking. Once the heat is off and the blintzes are piled high, he turns to her.]

Now then, you wanted sour scream and...?
flatscamp: (hopeful)

[personal profile] flatscamp 2013-08-13 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
...fruit?

[Which was what she asked for. She likes just about any kind.]
wecanavenge: (Unapologetically we'll stand behind each)

[personal profile] wecanavenge 2013-08-13 03:09 am (UTC)(link)
Fruit, yes. Why don't you grab a bowl and fill it? We can eat in the mess hall.
flatscamp: (Default)

[personal profile] flatscamp 2013-08-13 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
[She fills a bowl with peaches and oranges and meets him there.]

I got some!
wecanavenge: (Once there was something like peace)

[personal profile] wecanavenge 2013-08-13 03:55 am (UTC)(link)
Perfect. [He sets everything down, along with cutlery and plates for them both, and serves her before he sits down himself.]

What do you want to learn to draw?
flatscamp: (Default)

[personal profile] flatscamp 2013-08-13 04:20 am (UTC)(link)
[She takes a big bite, but has the manners to chew and swallow before she answers.]

Um. Animals!
wecanavenge: (The path I carve will be my own)

[personal profile] wecanavenge 2013-08-16 03:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[Precious. He smiles, a little more interested in watching her enjoy than in eating himself.]

All right. Which should we start with?
flatscamp: (Default)

[personal profile] flatscamp 2013-08-17 02:34 am (UTC)(link)
Frogs! Or penguins! Or kitties!

[She's decisive.]