inhell | text . open spam . 2nd attack

Free stuff outside level 7 cabin 2. I don't want it.

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[She's still feeling the lingering aches from being ill, but she doesn't pay any attention to it. She has a few good meals in her and too much energy to just sit there. She wants to know what happened. Did any of them make it? Are they all dead? How did Colonel Finley feel about it?

And the sight of her own bedroom appalls her.

So she drags out big plastic bins from her closet and starts tossing stuff inside.

Snow globes and fancy headbands. Old clothes. Who needs that many tops? A lamp that doesn't work. A collection of smooth stones; a glass bottle fused shut.

Beaded bracelets. (Except for one that reads BEST, because she knows who had the other one, who had the half that read FRIENDS and for a few minutes she stares at it, unable to move.) Cheap stuffed animals. A whole series of trophies from hockey. A plastic unicorn filled with layers of colored sand. Old ugly sweaters and figurines and half-used collections of colored pencils. Hand-dipped candles, irregular and bulging and leaning noticeably to the side.

She keeps all her books.

She throws away baskets of souvenir paperweights and keychains and cheap jewelry.

And she drags it all out into the hallway, leaving it there in piles.]

Threaded | Flat

Such as?

[ Megamind was, by nature, a scavenger. He grew up with nothing he didn't beg, borrow or -- most often -- steal. It's thirty years of behavior that has him coming up a floor and down the hall to see what's happening and just what's being dumped. A few brainbots trail him, in case it really is useful and therefore, worth picking up. ]

[ He convinces himself it's because he's a warden and doesn't want anything too useful falling into the wrong inmate hands... but honestly? He's just curious and has picked through trash piles a lot in his years. When he has a stuffed bunny with floppy, pale ears on the top of a pile he realizes this is not what he thought it was. ]

Uh-- ollo?

[ He calls because Ellie's in her room, maybe prepping to bring more out, but-- now he feels less like a scavenger and more like an intruder. ]

Edited 2013-10-17 19:53 (UTC)

Why don't you want it anymore?

"Stuff." That could be anything.

The tap of metal boots come around the corner far before the man does. He strides up to the pile, white-haired and very tall, in black medieval armor, and stares down at it with cold disdain. Plastic unicorn. Maybe he could use that for... something.

No, probably not. He flicks it aside, along with a few more items on top. Clothes. Toys. This looks like a normal child's things. He feels a little embarrassed to have considered the unicorn.

"Is this everything?"

Edited 2013-10-18 08:07 (UTC)

[The Piemaker is away, hiding in the rooms of friends until he can fight through his trauma of last week.

His dog Digby, however, is out and about. He doesn't hear Ellie's announcement - and wouldn't understand it if he did, being a dog - but he does happen upon the big plastic bins. Sticking his head in curiously, he withdraws a shirt, holding it in his jaws.

With shirt in mouth, he trots into Ellie's room and lays down on her floor, calm and obedient.]

[Two things bring Beatrix down to Ellie's cabin: Sylvanas' current lack of clothing, and the girl herself. She hadn't checked in on her since she'd gone to the infirmary, and from the post itself Bea assumes Ellie's had some difficulty adjusting to the Barge. So after sifting through the piles in the hallways and picking up a few loose shirts, she knocks on the door to the cabin.]

Ellie?

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