Play, My Darling, Play

[savingthrows]

characters: Eleven and You (ota with some closed options)
location: Around the Town
date/time: October 30th - November 1st
content: Lose Your Soul event catch-all
warnings: some references to body horror and resulting scars, potential mentions of child abuse/neglect and human experiments, potential telekinesis fuelled temper tantrum



➣ A - October 30th: At The Play

[ After the harrowing encounter with the Baubledook, Eleven has been a little more withdrawn in the latter half of October. Certainly not unresponsive to messages or hidden away completely, she's been seen less venturing out and about Beacon. The preparations for the play have drawn her out, though, and it seems a certain excitement is settling into her even at the prospect of attending.

She hangs a little to the outskirts of town square, occasionally nervously tugging at the blue hairband around her wrist as she watches a crowd slowly form. Unsure of crowds perhaps, and of the people within it she doesn't know. She worries her lips a little, gets up on tiptoes and looks for people she knows, who will get a small, shy wave. Other people she will not ignore, but watch a little more warily perhaps.

Notable: The aforementioned encounter with the Baubledook has left gashes in her throat. They've already healed over in the form of fresh, pink scar tissue. Those are marks she'll bear from now on.

She does venture closer, after a while, as if still deciding between wanting to find herself a seat, and stay on the outskirts of town square and watch form there. She bumps into someone, and is halfway through apologizing when the stage once again distracts her. Wide brown eyes up, she looks at whomever she bumped into a little sheepishly. ]

I've never... seen a play. Have you?

[ If during the play you happen to sit next to her, you'll find her a very engaged audience member, gasping, and giggling and being hopelessly confused at the appropriate moments. At a spooky moment, she might even latch onto your arm and peer around it to the stage. ]

➣ B1 - October 31st: Trick or Treat

[ Aziraphale has kindly organized trick or treating for Eleven. And between the plague doctor inspired, beak shaped cone she wears over her nose and mouth and an ugly, feathered poncho she picked up from the general store that is so oversized she's hopelessly drowning in it, Eleven even wears something mildly resembling a bird costume.

Kind of.

Not really.

She is a child, leave her alone.

The little bird does go well with Aziraphale's cat ear and whiskers, though.

At any rate, in Aziraphale's company, she goes from door to door at the Independance and in the village, offering a somewhat shy and unsure: ]

Trick... or treat?

[ to whoever opens the door. If you pick trick, she will give you a judgmental look and hand you a folded piece of paper. In bad handwriting and plan pencil, it reads "Trick". There seems to be more writing on the inside...

If you pick treat and give her candy or something else (either provided by yourself, or generously donated by Aziraphale before bringing Eleven over), she will smile - you can't see her mouth under the cone, but her eyes crinkle in the obvious way. She will thank you for the treat and hand you a folded piece of paper. In bad handwriting
but glittering, bright colour, it reads "Treat". There seems to be more writing on the inside... ]

➣ B2 - October 31st: Lose Your Soul

ooc: Closed to 1st responder, see plotting here.

[ The night is winding down. Eleven has the beak-shaped plague doctor cone pushed up onto her head - looking like a misshapen horn there, truth be told, and a bucket full of treats. It's been a good night for her, she's clearly happy. She's wandered away from Aziraphale while he thanks the last person on their trick or treat tour, when it happens.

A few of the spirits that were putting on a play slip close to her. With her right hand firmly holding the bucket and her visibly contemplating if she should start in on the treats or wait for Aziraphale, Eleven's left hand dangles idly. The spirit sees its chance, springs close and snatches at the blue hair tie around her left wrist, before immediately shooting off into the darkness. Another spirit jumps up, clambers up her shoulder and pulls the plague doctor cone right off her head.

Eleven screams, but both spirits rush off before she can fend them off - and it takes her a precious second or two to realize what happened. When she sees her naked wrist, though, she drops the bucket of treats and goes tearing off into the dark after the spirit that took the hair tie, lantern swaying wildly where it's tied around her waist. Behind her, the spirit that took the plague doctor cone, not being pursued as it is, also snatches up the bucket of candy. Eleven is unaware, eyes on the spirit that took the hair tie, calling out loudly: ]

Stop! STOP it!

➣ C - October 31st/November 1st: Lost and Found

ooc: Closed to Nancy Wheeler

[ Eleven's spent the evening with Aziraphale on an impromptu trick or treat tour the residents of Beacon kindly put together for her. It would therefore be reasonable to assume she'd return late with much candy and in good spirits.

Instead, the door bangs open. Eleven stalks back into the cabin and waves her arm, the door slamming shut loudly behind her. Someone... is very obviously in a mood, if the foul expression on her face is anything to go by. She's still wearing the ugly poncho that made up one half of her bird costume for trick or treating, but is missing both the plague doctor cone and any sign of candy. When she notices Nancy, Eleven quite loudly declares: ]

Stupid. This place is stupid!

[ There's a tremor to her voice, though - not just pure anger, but something boiling under it. ]

➣ D - November 1st: Finder's Keepers?

ooc: Feel free to hit up the plotting post to either find the bucket full of candy or the plague doctor cone in the church on November 1st... and hit me up here if you want to return either ;)

Comments

At the Play

[sauntered_downward]

[Crowley has seen lots of plays. Back when plays were the thing to do, that was what Crowley did. After all, he's never been much for reading and television is a relatively modern invention. He and Aziraphale have seen so many together, of course, and he's seen a lot on his own. Ever since plays were invented, really.

Nothing quite like whatever the hell this is supposed to be, exactly. He thinks the forest spirits or whatever they are are just being really fucking weird. He opens his mouth to say that, but the words of the child next to him cause him to snap his mouth shut.

Crowley is, as a rule, mean to people. But not to children.]

Television's a bit like a play, isn't it? Just---recorded and put into a box instead of on a stage. Not all that different.

Unless you're watching reality television. Are you watching reality television? Not for your age, really, reality television.

[savingthrows]

I watch TV, sometimes. Helps to learn. Miami Vice.

[ Her small face scrunches up a little in confusion. Reality television? ]

Like... game shows? Ball sports? I don't... like those.

[ Yeah, she doesn't seem to understand the term, really. But she angles herself away from the preparations, turns to face Crowley and looks up at him with big brown eyes. Expecting the clarification, and being attentive for it. ]

[sauntered_downward]

Oh, I know Miami Vice. Like Miami Vice, me. Eighties were a pretty good decade, all things considering. [Crowley even had a pink jacket that he wore occasionally, but it never meshed with the rest of his black aesthetic, so he got rid of it after a fashion. His hair went through its own moment in the 80's, of course, but that was a whole different story.

He looks down at the girl with a little grimace. What to explain? Keeping up with the Kardashians? Love Island? One of his other favorites?]

You ever heard of Great British Bake-Off?

[savingthrows]

Are.

[ They are a good... wait. Eleven looks confused but also like she's close to figuring something out that she hasn't quite grasped in this place yet. The fact that he's referring to the decade she's from in the past tense almost clues her in.

Almost. ]

Bake... off?

[ Honestly, the expression on her face is growing into one massive question mark. ]

[sauntered_downward]

Are?

[He tilts a head to the side, trying to take in the girl's appearance. Nothing about what she's wearing absolutely screams the 80's to him, but she could just be one of those people who doesn't follow fashion as obnoxiously as he does. She's also a child, and children's styles always eluded him, even when he was a Nanny.]

What year is it?

[savingthrows]

19...85

[ She says it a little haltingly. The number is big, and she knows to say it as 19 and 85, but she still sometimes stumbles over words. This is apparently no exception. And then she adds, as if that makes any sort of difference: ]

Summer.

Trick-or-treat

[scarsolderthanyou]

[After Aziraphale explained the situation, Stone is all for this trick-or-treating thing. He kind of wants to do it, himself. Free food! Dressing up in something weird! Come on, that sounds like fun! Too bad Aziraphale made it clear it's only for kids.

So he grins at the sight of Eleven's costume when he opens the door at his room in the Invincible.]

Very cute.

[savingthrows]

[ There's a smile behind that beak, Eleven's eyes crinkling slightly.

Honestly, if she knew the rules kept Stone from dressing up, she'd tell him to make his own rules. It's a thing she learned, and she likes it.

As it is, for now, she flaps her arms once, and declares in utter deadpan: ]

Caw.

[scarsolderthanyou]

[In general, Stone is good at breaking rules. He's old enough that people generally let him do what he wants. He just doesn't want to step on El's toes. Or take sweets meant for her.

Her flat "caw" makes him laugh, and he steps out of his room to give her shoulders a hug.]

I like it. Is that like me saying "growl"?

[savingthrows]

[ Eleven returns the hug, if a little stiffly. She's still getting used to these, but Stone makes it easy. She likes him - and the hair ruffling reminds her of Hopper. That is both a good and bad thing, but it's endeared Stone to her, for sure. ]

No. It's a bird sound. You would have to...

[ She holds up her free hand and shapes it into a claw, and behind her mask bears her teeth. ]

Raaarrrh!

[ It sure is an attempt at a growl vocalization.

It sure is. ]

[scarsolderthanyou]

[That is adorable. Stone just loves kids.]

Oh, so it's more like if I did this.

[He doesn't bare his own teeth, because that looks a lot more threatening than when she does it, but he does open his mouth to make a low rumbling growl. It makes the floorboards vibrate a little, under her shoes.

Then he smiles, to make sure she knows he's not growling at her. Groundlings sometimes don't take even playful growls well.]

[keenely]

[ nancy knows she should be trying to assimilate to life here a lot more than she has been, she knows she should, but the idea of celebrating halloween is just too much too quickly, somehow. it feels too much like pretending things are normal here, and fine, when they're obviously not. it's been weeks since her arrival, and there's been no sign that this is all just some kind of crazy dream, or something she can easily figure out so she can get back to Hawkins. it's real, okay, she gets it, she does. she just- kind of hates it.

and she's been trying so damn hard to move past it, to accept that this really is life after death and she needs to make the most of it, but not really for her own sake - she knows being here isn't easy for el either, especially with hopper being gone, so that's been her motivation. she's trying.

she's curled up on the couch, writing in her notebook when el shows up back home, and maybe she's just used to living with mike, but her outburst doesn't really make her startle too much. she just looks up, eyes wide, brow knitted a little bit. she knows if eleven was hurt, or if something really bad happened, there'd be more than just shouting going on. so... ]

You're not wrong. What happened? [ she closes her notebook and sits up properly, big sister instincts slowly kicking in. her eyes narrow ] Wait- your bag. Didn't you go trick-or-treating? What's going on?

[savingthrows]

[ Eleven likes Nancy. Finds her warm, and pretty, and safe, because she's smart. Sharp, like a blade, but not in the same way in which Eleven is a weapon. Nancy figures things out, and Nancy can fight.

It still tears at Eleven that Nancy is here, now, that she... died. Steve, too. They died, which means Eleven failed to keep everyone safe. Which means the Mindflayer...

But this isn't the evening for that. This is an evening for another foul mood. ] Spirits.

[ Eleven gestures, as if that explains anything, and looks more frustrated for it. She always struggles with her words more when she's frustrated, angry, upset, afraid. Her brows furrow, she worries her lips. ]

They steal things. Could't... catch it.

[ And then Eleven sighs, as if she's just not figuring something out that hadn't quite yet fully registered: ]

Dropped the candy...

[keenely]

[ spirits. nancy only knows about them because of what she was told when she was given her ocarina, way back when she arrived, so it only half makes sense. it doesn't take much puzzling to figure out what might have happened, though. they steal things. oh, gosh. she almost moves to stand, wanting to be ready in case her frustration turns into something more like anger. no, nance isn't worried about el's powers getting out of control or anything like that, but if she can prevent her getting that upset? she wants to try.

instead of standing, she just pats her hand on the cushion next to her, tilts her head ]

Whatever they stole, I'm sure we can figure out a way to get it back, or get you a new one. And we can definitely always get you more candy.

[ she hasn't realized what exactly is missing just yet. she's pretty sure she's not this upset over her costume mask being missing, or her candy, but... maybe? or maybe there's more to it. ]

Come sit?

[savingthrows]

[ Eleven hesitates, looks like she would rather throw more things with her mind than sit and talk, but frankly it's hard to hold on to the anger when Nancy is over there being all calm and reasonable. Eleven wants to resent her for that. There's a part of her that's utterly volatile, emotions that Hawkins Lab encouraged, festered. Issues that Hopper, bless him and how hard he's trying, isn't always the best at de-escalating.

Eleven knows better, of course she does. She knows not to give in to the temper, the anger, even if she wants to scream and let her power surge and give voice to everything dark and angry and nasty that's curling in her gut.

But Nancy doesn't give her the satisfaction of escalation those volatile impulses, and Eleven can feel the impulse deflate.

Part of her wants to resent Nancy for that. A bigger part, the part that's learning every day to be a person and not a thing, is grateful to be gentled.

Still, she huffs when she drops onto the couch, pulls her legs up. All of her basically disappears under the ugly feather poncho. ]

I sit.

[ Her tone is borderlone snippy, but there's very little heat behind it. More petulance than anger, now, and she avoids looking at Nancy. ]

I don't care about... the candy.

[ Well, she does. But not like that. ]

[keenely]

[ look, she knows eleven could essentially level out this entire cabin if she was mad enough, but nancy's dealt with mike when he's feeling ranty and upset before, so she's not entirely intimidated by el's temper right now. again, if it was something really bad? eleven wouldn't just be standing here talking about how the town is stupid. she'd be taking action. so! nancy's pretty sure she can help.

pretty sure!

once she sits down next to her, she turns to face her properly, tucking one leg under her and pulling a pillow onto her lap to hug it, trying to put out a vibe of calm, calm, calm. maybe it's because she's helped her fellow classmates sort of frustrations while tutoring them, that she's learned a thing or two about staying calm in the interest of getting to a logical train of thought. something like that, at least. or it's just her big sister instincts kicking in. ]

Maybe you should start from the beginning. What happened? What did the spirits do?

D - candy bucket!

[worthallthis]

Feeling better with at least some of its knives returned and in their proper places in various pockets and sheaths, and tablet safely back in an inner pocket so it won't lose its music again, the Soldier has a delivery to make: a decorated bucket with a lot of largely-untouched sweet things in it, that it knows belongs to its neighbor and maybe-friend. ("Maybe" only because they don't seem to quite know how to actually interact, especially after Eleven won't come back to class after her scare.) Finding that in the church at least gives it a reason to visit that would get it rebuffed.

So the Soldier adds a new little origami animal Misty taught it recently (a lion done in pale gold paper; seems fitting for her, anyway) to the top of the bucket's collection of treats, waits until it catches sight of Eleven through a window, then crosses over to her house to knock.

As soon as the door opens, it offers the bucket, wordless, looking a little awkward but also kind of hopeful. It's making more of an effort at not hiding its expressions, at least around some people.

[savingthrows]

She opens the door looking... worn down. There's something in her that's much less young than it should be, something they're both so painfully familiar with. Depending on how perceptive he is, he might notice the hair tie missing from her left wrist. He saw her touch it a lot when she was upset after their training session gone so very wrong.

Nancy is still looking, but Eleven can't help the sadness that has settled deep in her bones. It's all she has left of Hopper, and it hurts in ways she doesn't quite understand to think she lost it.

But Soldat bings her another lost thing - the bucket Airaphale painted for her and that everyone filled with candy. She blinks, and then her face brightens. Eleven is still sad over the hair tie - but trick or treating meant a lot, and she'd felt bad for dropping the candy that Mr. Fell put so much work into helping her fill with candy. He took her trick or treating, he made that happen for her, and she lost the bandy.

But Soldat brings it back to her - along with a gift.

Eleven doesn't say anything - she remembers him not talking so much before and during their class, and she recognizes that many things can be easier when you don't have to think about what words express them best. So she just reaches out and curls her small fingers around his wrist. Doesn't take the bucket, but leads Soldat inside and towards her room, where she momentarily abandons him in the open doorway. The room is small and perhaps lacks a bit of personality. Eleven hasn't left much of a mark on it - but she has books on the night stand, and she has papers and glittery pens, and she's been practicing her writing. She has clothes, and those are a little bit of a mess, and she has a small shelf with birds on it, carefully folded paper. She rearranges them now, to make space for the lion, and then beckons Soldat to her, smile chasing the sadness off her face for now.

[worthallthis]

Yeah, it noticed the missing hair tie. It's also now close enough to notice the marks on her throat, and that's... not good. Something hurt her. Aw fuck, nothing's supposed to hurt El, not anymore. The Soldier hasn't been keeping a close enough eye, it seems like. (Probably happened during the whole hallucination shit. We weren't keeping a close enough eye on anybody, for a while there. Not gonna let that happen again. Might not have a choice, pal.)

It lets itself be tugged along, torn between relief that she looks pleased and being quietly upset that she's been hurt. A little curiosity about the room. The Soldier doesn't technically have one of those, and the only "decorations" it's made to Aziraphale and Crowley's house are knives hidden in various places, but it's nice to see she's done at least a little with hers.

It's a relief, too, that she doesn't seem to need it to say anything yet. It obediently comes over to her shelf, and has to smile, too. She kept them-- the little birds it left her, now and then.

[savingthrows]

Eleven busies herself finding the perfect new arrangement for the birds, a look of concentration on her face until he joins her. Then she gently plucks the lion off the top of the candy in the bucket and puts in among the birds. Just a little rearranging later, and she seems satisfied with how the little origami display is coming together, and grins up at him.

This task done, she tugs on the bucket and puts it on the floor, before settling down herself, cross-legged. She puts the floor on the other side of the bucket - indication for him to sit, but Eleven herself is busy with the bucket's content, sorting through the various pieces of candy they got. When she finds something she has two of, she immediately holds one of them out to him, lips splitting into a goofy grin.

Scars on her neck or not - right here and now, it seems she's happy, and looks so much more like a normal child for it.

[worthallthis]

That is a smile. That's a "Misty thinks the Soldier did something good"-level smile. That's one of those smiles that makes it feel like it did do something good, even if it isn't always sure what it is. Apparently, this time, it was making a little paper lion for El.

You know what, asking her what happened to her neck is probably going to make that smile go away. So it's not going to fucking ask. Not right now. Maybe later.

The pat is pretty clear, and for a moment the Soldier hesitates... not necessarily because it doesn't want to sit. Eleven is relatively safe, as people (or not-people) go. But sitting where indicated means having its back to the door. Can't not see all the exits, that's a recipe for distraction and probably eventually knives. So it eases to one side and down, kitty-corner to El, not quite close enough for their knees to touch. From there it can see both the door and the window, which is acceptable.

The offer of candy gets a briefly baffled look in response. That's hers.

D. November 1 - Mask

[notthatjason]

The weather's gotten progressively chillier and Jason can only command warmer breezes for so long before he gets exhausted. So he only uses that ability sparingly and instead wanders around with a blanket draped over his shoulders. Every time he had attempted to replace his shirts they had been taken and so he'd given up.

There is visible relief on his face when he enters the church and finds a nice pile of shirts tucked behind a pew. He shivers as he drops the blanket, quickly pulling on one of the top shirts. It's only after he's returned to fully clothed that he notices a strange mask tucked beneath the clothing. His brows draw together as he frowns, thinking it looks familiar before remembering where he saw it recently.

Jason picks it up and looks around, he hadn't thought he'd seen Eleven in the church so maybe he should go looking for her.

Sorry for the late!

[savingthrows]

Eleven hasn't been to the church yet, not knowing it's where the stolen items have turned up. Soldat reclaimed the candy for her, but they just shared it and didn't really talk - a comfort, to people to whom words don't always come easy. So she knows things can be found, but not quite when and where.

If someone were to look for her though, she can be found around the Bonfire. She likes to sit and practice using the tablet machine, and listen to the crackle of the fire. It's one of the few liberties she feels she has here - the ability to move around without fear of soldiers or doctors finding her.

Plus, the walk helped with how heavy her stomach felt after all the candy.

[notthatjason]

He waits at the church for a bit, gathering up the rest of the shirts that the spirits had stolen in the meantime. He never sees Eleven and decides it might just be easier to go find her instead. He heads out, not sure where to start, but figuring there can't be THAT many places to look anyway.

The Bonfire is one of Jason's haunts as well. It's fairly central, it's bright, and it often reminds him of Camp Half-Blood, of home. He finds comfort in it when he's feeling particularly lost or just wanting a moment to himself. Though, often enough, there are others around the Bonfire as well so that 'alone time' is more often reserved for the roof of the Invincible.

He waits until he is a little closer and then calls out, "Hey." She'll likely notice that rolled under one arm is a small pile of shirts and in his free hand is a familiar mask.

B2!

[darkeyed]

<sub>[At first, the midnight production out in the square seems more harmless than not and falls within the bounds of M.K.'s policy of leaving the spirits alone so long as they leave him alone. The same with whatever's up with some of their number and the costumes. As someone who doesn't know what All Saint's Day or Halloween is, it all seems a bit strange to him. He's happy to watch at a distance.

That said, as the last day of the month progresses, he hardly has time to wonder about the latter when the former becomes more of a nuisance than it's worth. Damn the spirits! They're persistent buggers, aren't they? All day he's been fending off their sticky little fingers.

Lucky for him, although his aggravation is boiling, and he's already lost several weapons and Melisandre's piece of embroidery to this snatch-and-grab spree, he hasn't yet lost anything of value to warrant the level of outrage he hears bellowed out along the path in the opposite direction he's travelling.

Something goes zipping past him in the trees--even his keen senses have trouble catching it. Footsteps follow in hot pursuit.

A patch of moonlight traces the outline of a small-statured figure charging his way--and headed straight for the thicker trees.]</sub>

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

_{[Putting out an arm, he tries to slow the figure down.]}