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

[darknightdamsel]

Definitely an important lesson. [Not one she ever had to learn, but she knows she's lucky; most people can't just glance at something and remember it forever.]

Also, make sure your needles are the right size for you.

[flatscamp]

There weren't any smaller ones.

[darknightdamsel]

You could have asked someone. [A soft, rueful smile.] There's never any shame in asking for help. [Now there's a thing she's had to learn.]

[flatscamp]

Who would I ask?

[Just kind of. Bewildered. At home no one pays attention to her. It occurs to her, belatedly, that things aren't quite the same here.]

Daddy and Miss Lua are nice, but they don't knit.

[darknightdamsel]

[Barbara looks just as bewildered, for a second, before she realises that not every kid has someone who's always ready to help them.

Her smile fades, but only briefly.]

I'm sure there are lot of people who do who'd be happy to help. [She cocks her head, frowning thoughtfully.] I might still have my needles from when I was a kid. [Her expression turns rueful.] My cabin was...pretty big. I'm not sure what's in there yet.

[flatscamp]

We could go exploring?

[Kind of tentative. This is not a thing a lot of adults are into, apparently.]

[darknightdamsel]

[She hesitates, but just for a moment. Then she's grinning.]

Sounds fun.

[flatscamp]

Okay!

[She scrambles up, knitting tucked into a basket - also oversized - that goes over her arm.]

[darknightdamsel]

[Barbara stands in one smooth motion, backing up a step to give Anya room before offering the girl a gloved hand.]

[flatscamp]

[Yay! Anya takes her hand happily, bouncing on her heels a little in excitement.]

[darknightdamsel]

[Her strides are much shorter than usual; she makes sure Anya can keep up without trouble.

After a few moments, she turns to Anya, voice soft.]

How good are you at keeping secrets?

[flatscamp]

[Anya looks at her with huge eyes, innocent and sweet and completely uncomprehending.]

...what secrets?

[There aren't any secrets. There's definitely no such thing as mutants, even if Babs is sort of dressed like one.]

[darknightdamsel]

Well, I'm not really supposed to let people know my real name, when I'm dressed like this. [But it's, you know. On her door.]

[flatscamp]

[She promptly puts her free hand over her eyes, trusting that Barbara won't let her trip on anything. She doesn't even pretend she can't read - she has her pride.]

[darknightdamsel]

[Her eyes widen, and then so does her smile.]

Thanks, but it's okay. I trust you. [Maybe she shouldn't - she's just a kid, and secrets are burdens. But she's pretty sure the risk isn't as great here, as it would be in Gotham, and - well, trust is important. Kids should know people believe in them.]

[flatscamp]

[Anya was totally planning to peak. But not to tell. Just to know. This is better, anyway.]

I won't tell! Promise.

[darknightdamsel]

[A girl after her own heart.

Barbara squeezes her hand, grinning as they turn a corner.] One day, maybe I can keep a secret for you.

[flatscamp]

I'll think of a really good one, then.

[darknightdamsel]

I'll bet. [The words are both light and sincere.

When they come to the stairs Barbara pauses, just for a moment, as her brow furrows. Everything else seems startlingly familiar.

But these wouldn't, would they?

Her expression shifts behind her cowl, as she takes the first step, wistful and wondering.]

[flatscamp]

[Anya has been living in a war base for more than a year now; she knows how to pick up changes in the atmosphere. She squeezes Babs' hand lightly.]

Everything okay?

[darknightdamsel]

[Her smile is soft, as she looks down at Anya.]

Yeah. Just...thinking about the future.

[flatscamp]

[She gives Barbara a look - sweet, just a little dubious, are you suuure without directly contradicting her.]

[darknightdamsel]

[Barbara laughs, soft and rueful, because she's pretty sure she's given people that exact look.]

Some of it - from what I've figured out, some of it isn't good. But I know I'll handle it.