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)
ximilia2022-09-27 03:23 am
savingthrows) wrote in ximilia2022-09-27 03:23 am
video | un: eleven
[ Enjoy the visual of a stack of waffles, piled so high and with such a blatant disregard to the laws of physics that it looks like it's about to fall over.
And that is before Eleven, not quite but almost hidden behind it, shakes a can of spray whipped cream, aims it and begins piling that onto the waffles too. Hey, most of the whipped cream even ends up on the waffle stack... which is swaying, dangerously, at this point. Some of the whipped cream also ends up all over the table. And in her hair. ]
I want things.
[ Her brown eyes briefly flick to the caera, squinting for a moment. She looks determined, but only in the ways of covering up the way in which she's unsure. Eleven tugs on her hair - it's grown out considerably since her arrival here. ]
I want to learn how to look nicer. And I want to play board games with people. And I want people to stop disappearing. I want someone to help me train my powers in case we have to kill people again.
[ She presses her lips together, then picks up what looks like... oh yeah, that's just a clear plastic container filled to the brim with sprinkles. If you think this is about to be a full on disaster when it becomes clear Eleven isn't using any tipe of spoon or even her hands to scoop out sprinkles and deposit them on the waffle monstrosity, you'd be correct. Because it looks like...
Yeah, she just upended half the jar's worth of sprinkles over the waffle tower.
Most of that did NOT end up on the waffles.
Eleven puts her hands on her hips, regards her.... 'meal'. It is technically a meal, in that technically everything on that plate is edible.
Quietly: ]
It's been a year, now. I think that means I'm 15. [ A beat. Then, even more softly: ] I want someone to fix my walkie talkie, even if no one from home can hear anyway. I know it's stupid, I know it's pretend. But... I want it.
And that is before Eleven, not quite but almost hidden behind it, shakes a can of spray whipped cream, aims it and begins piling that onto the waffles too. Hey, most of the whipped cream even ends up on the waffle stack... which is swaying, dangerously, at this point. Some of the whipped cream also ends up all over the table. And in her hair. ]
I want things.
[ Her brown eyes briefly flick to the caera, squinting for a moment. She looks determined, but only in the ways of covering up the way in which she's unsure. Eleven tugs on her hair - it's grown out considerably since her arrival here. ]
I want to learn how to look nicer. And I want to play board games with people. And I want people to stop disappearing. I want someone to help me train my powers in case we have to kill people again.
[ She presses her lips together, then picks up what looks like... oh yeah, that's just a clear plastic container filled to the brim with sprinkles. If you think this is about to be a full on disaster when it becomes clear Eleven isn't using any tipe of spoon or even her hands to scoop out sprinkles and deposit them on the waffle monstrosity, you'd be correct. Because it looks like...
Yeah, she just upended half the jar's worth of sprinkles over the waffle tower.
Most of that did NOT end up on the waffles.
Eleven puts her hands on her hips, regards her.... 'meal'. It is technically a meal, in that technically everything on that plate is edible.
Quietly: ]
It's been a year, now. I think that means I'm 15. [ A beat. Then, even more softly: ] I want someone to fix my walkie talkie, even if no one from home can hear anyway. I know it's stupid, I know it's pretend. But... I want it.