Eleven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
savingthrows) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ximilia2022-08-01 12:51 pm
savingthrows) wrote in ximilia2022-08-01 12:51 pm
video | un: eleven, un: barnes
[ Eleven's room is easy to identify on camera - a collection of soft fabrics, stacks of books, pens and paper everywhere, and walls decorated lovingly with colorful drawings - no rainbows, though. The two figures sitting cross legged on the bed are equally recognizable. That's Eleven herself of course, snorting an undignified laugh right at the beginning of the video, clearly because of something related to her current company. Next to her is Bucky Barnes - uncharacteristically with his metal arm on full display.
Except the black and gold vibranium has completely disappeared. Eleven beams into the camera. For once, the girl looks more carefree than she usually does, not weighed down by all she carries on any given day. For once, she looks her age, instead of painfully younger or older, as she wriggles her fingers to call attention to Bucky's arm.
It... is no longer black and gold. Instead, his arm is a monstrosity of clashing colors, paint applied generously... along with glitter, stickers, shimmers, sequins, and other bedazzlements. ]
Tada!
[ Eleven glances up at Bucky, then down at the arm. ]
I made Bucky pretty. [ A sheepish look. ] Pretti-er. Look!
[ Yeah. Feast your eyes on this iridescent neon glitter monstrosity, a true eyesore that Eleven looks uniquely proud of.
There is also, notably, a small neon pink handprint generously covering half of Bucky's face. ]
I know we're all... sad or mad. Maybe both. I know things are difficult, because I can see more than some of you think. [ She hesitates, then puts a hand on Bucky's arm and takes a deep breath, steels herself to speak about something she doesn't like voicing, and has kept hush hush so far. ] I haven't gotten to do things like this... a lot. I grew up in... I grew up in the rainbow room. It's in a lab. [ Perhaps you've heard her say it before. No rainbows. She can go from cheerful to cold and hardened in seconds when doctors and labs and rainbows are brought up. And even here, now, it becomes immediately apparent that the fluency of her speech regresses, voice becoming more halting, pronounciations just a little less sure. ] I was allowed... just one picture, on the wall. Crayons. It wasn't happy. But... But Alina paints the walls, and there are... crafts. At movie nights. Everyone enjoys crafts. I bedazzled oreo... origamis. So... I thought. Maybe I could also paint things. Here. To help. Doors. Walls. My... [ A hard swallow. ] Hopper. My... dad. He made a cabin our home with... [ She quotes, clearly: ] "A little paint and a lot of love". We all hurt, sometimes, but... for now this is home. So maybe... we can do more. To make 'here' pretty. So even when you're upset, it's nicer here.
[ She falls silent, as if in doubt. Whispers to Bucky - but loud enough that the entire network will here. ]
Is that stupid? You're... less sad now. Right?
[ At the question, Bucky gives her an entirely too soft smile. Something that's completely at odds with the usual expression he wears here. ]
Nothing stupid about it. And I told you I ain't sad.
[ The fluorescent monstrosity that is his arm becomes a blur of color as he reaches up to sling an arm around Eleven's shoulders, tugging her in to a half hug. Eleven smiles, soft and calmed. ]
Anyone else here that needs some cheering up, let her know. The kid could do with some new canvases.
[ It goes without saying that he's looking for some volunteers here to give Eleven the distraction she so clearly needs. A chance to actually be a child, for once. ]
[ ooc: Feel free to interact with Eleven, Bucky, both, neither. Threadjack to your heart's content! ]
Except the black and gold vibranium has completely disappeared. Eleven beams into the camera. For once, the girl looks more carefree than she usually does, not weighed down by all she carries on any given day. For once, she looks her age, instead of painfully younger or older, as she wriggles her fingers to call attention to Bucky's arm.
It... is no longer black and gold. Instead, his arm is a monstrosity of clashing colors, paint applied generously... along with glitter, stickers, shimmers, sequins, and other bedazzlements. ]
Tada!
[ Eleven glances up at Bucky, then down at the arm. ]
I made Bucky pretty. [ A sheepish look. ] Pretti-er. Look!
[ Yeah. Feast your eyes on this iridescent neon glitter monstrosity, a true eyesore that Eleven looks uniquely proud of.
There is also, notably, a small neon pink handprint generously covering half of Bucky's face. ]
I know we're all... sad or mad. Maybe both. I know things are difficult, because I can see more than some of you think. [ She hesitates, then puts a hand on Bucky's arm and takes a deep breath, steels herself to speak about something she doesn't like voicing, and has kept hush hush so far. ] I haven't gotten to do things like this... a lot. I grew up in... I grew up in the rainbow room. It's in a lab. [ Perhaps you've heard her say it before. No rainbows. She can go from cheerful to cold and hardened in seconds when doctors and labs and rainbows are brought up. And even here, now, it becomes immediately apparent that the fluency of her speech regresses, voice becoming more halting, pronounciations just a little less sure. ] I was allowed... just one picture, on the wall. Crayons. It wasn't happy. But... But Alina paints the walls, and there are... crafts. At movie nights. Everyone enjoys crafts. I bedazzled oreo... origamis. So... I thought. Maybe I could also paint things. Here. To help. Doors. Walls. My... [ A hard swallow. ] Hopper. My... dad. He made a cabin our home with... [ She quotes, clearly: ] "A little paint and a lot of love". We all hurt, sometimes, but... for now this is home. So maybe... we can do more. To make 'here' pretty. So even when you're upset, it's nicer here.
[ She falls silent, as if in doubt. Whispers to Bucky - but loud enough that the entire network will here. ]
Is that stupid? You're... less sad now. Right?
[ At the question, Bucky gives her an entirely too soft smile. Something that's completely at odds with the usual expression he wears here. ]
Nothing stupid about it. And I told you I ain't sad.
[ The fluorescent monstrosity that is his arm becomes a blur of color as he reaches up to sling an arm around Eleven's shoulders, tugging her in to a half hug. Eleven smiles, soft and calmed. ]
Anyone else here that needs some cheering up, let her know. The kid could do with some new canvases.
[ It goes without saying that he's looking for some volunteers here to give Eleven the distraction she so clearly needs. A chance to actually be a child, for once. ]
[ ooc: Feel free to interact with Eleven, Bucky, both, neither. Threadjack to your heart's content! ]
no subject
Yes. I will make Yelena so bedazzled. She will be so pretty.
[ You're creating an absolute monster, Natasha. The station will thank you. ]
no subject
It's not like the two of them are especially huggy.]
Personally, I think Yelena is already pretty. But she'd look good with a new jacket. I'll find you something to work on.
no subject
[ She glances at Bucky. Makes a face that can best be described as 'meh'. ]
Thank you for helping. Yelena is lucky to have you as her sister.
no subject
[Teasing. She can't not make fun of Bucky right now.
But she does make sure it's not making fun of Eleven's handiwork.]
You can tell Yelena that. See what she says.
no subject
[ She picks at one of the sequins on Bucky's arm a little, contemplative. ]
I love Kali, too. I think. Still left her. Siblings are... complicated.
no subject
[Especially when they're siblings through shared trauma rather than birth or choice.
That doesn't make them less siblings.]
But sometimes they're the only ones who know what you've been through.
no subject
[ That's not always a good thing - but very, very often it is.
After a moment, she offers - in part because Bucky is also there and hearing it, so she doesn't mind clarifying for the both of them: ]
Kali was Eight. But... she ran away. A long time ago. I found her, outside.
[ Kali never came back for Eleven, either. And she doesn't remember when and how Kali escaped, exactly. Much of her time from before, when there was other children, is a blur that Eleven can't quite recall. ]
no subject
Not one that needs too much unpacking. None if this needs to be about Natasha.
She's aware of Bucky listening in too.]
I'm glad both of you were able to get out.
action. (takes place offline only, once she's done with the conversation)
[About Kali. Another piece to the puzzle that is Eleven. He's not about to start pushing her for answers if she doesn't. But he's long since learned by now that sometimes talking helps.]
Your sister.