Open: Nobody thinks what you think, no one

[clussy]

Who: Eddie Kaspbrak & Anyone at all.
When: Scattered dates between the 5th-10th
Where: All throughout the station.
What: Brief summary.
Warnings: Canon typical warnings for Eddie. There will be subjects of child abuse/negligence, kids swearing way more than kids should swear, canon typical violence/horror elements from IT, etc. Extended list here at the bottom. As always, proceed w/caution with Eddie.


>>Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ: ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴀʀ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴇᴍᴇʀɢᴇɴᴄʏ: Mᴇᴅɪᴄᴀʟ Wɪɴɢ

(Despite the caution to stay out of the medical wing, Eddie finds himself drawn there more and more. He was so used to being forced into hospitals by his mother, that he finds it dizzily empowering to go on his own accord. That it is an active choice he himself is making, a choice made out of curiosity rather than an irrational fear of whatever illness might be plaguing him currently. He tries to time it so he doesn't go in when other people are about, but his timing isn't always perfect, and sometimes the draw of the objects inside, the unique medical smell, is sometimes strong enough that Eddie forgets to be nervous about getting caught by an adult.

His exploration is thorough. Eddie's hands make careful work of purging the drawers, pulling out various items at a time to look at them. Some he recognizes, others he doesn't. Items he touches gingerly, uncertain of, but weighing in his hand like if he held it long enough, he might just started to understand it.

Then other times, things aren't so simple. Other times, his curiosity gives way to anxieties and he winds up inside the recovery area. He sits himself down in front of the pods, thin, short legs tucked up against his chest with his arms wrapped around them. Sometimes he'll stare inside the pods for hours, just staring. Other times he might find any sort of lay-down area for patients in recovery and lay there, his body stock still, and he'll think about what it'd be like if he was laying there because he was dying, or because he was being treated for cancer, his brows furrowed hard as he rests with his arms over his chest or stiff at his sides.)

>>Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ: ᴛʜɪs sʏᴍᴘʜᴏɴʏ ʙᴜᴢᴢɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ: Lɪʙʀᴀʀʏ

(Eddie wasn't a huge reader, but he was interested in the library because it provided a source of information that he was far more used to. Talking to adults still wasn't easy for him, even with how many kind ones seemed to be around on Thisavrou. He walks quietly through the shelves, his eyes large and curious as they fall on book to book. Eddie plucks out any one book that may interest him. At times, he may be found with a stack of books on a table in front of him.

Other times, he might be found tucked away in some corner of the library, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and some book with a lot of glossy pictures (mostly space, sometimes medical, other times different space species of animals) spreading from page to page.

He might also be caught reading some books with very questionable covers that may or may not look like trashy romance novels. These books he squints at, tipping this way and that, like somehow slanting them might give him a clearer answer of whatever puzzle it is he clearly can't solve. Reading these books has Eddie blushing all over, and constantly looking around. The second anyone is near him, he will squeak and instantly shove the book into the nearest shelf- even if it doesn't belong there. He definitely wasn't reading that!!

Other times, he might be carrying a stack of books so tall, he can't quite see over them. He might even drop one, or be prone to accidentally bumping into someone since he can't fully see around them. One might here his soft little 'I'm sorry,' dotting throughout the library. It might not be uncommon for him to accidentally drop entire stacks of paperbacks, Eddie scrambling to try and pick them up before the swift justice of librarians (?) came down upon him like the wrath of God itself.)

>>Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: ɪ'ᴍ ᴀ ʟᴏᴏsᴇ ʙᴏʟᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ᴍᴀᴄʜɪɴᴇ:​ Tʜᴇ Gʀᴇᴇɴᴇʀʏ

(Although Eddie's friends had showed up, Eddie Kaspbrak is a boy that often spends his time alone. He is, by nature, a lonelier person who doesn't always want to bother people to hang out. This leads to him biking often, and exploring various parts of the ship. The Observation Deck, and the Greenery, are particularly favorite destinations for Eddie.

The Greenery was easily the best for playing. He had thought to ask one of the Losers, or perhaps Chara or Laura, if they would like to go play some games in the Greenery; but he hadn't been able to find anyone, and he still didn't always think to instantly contact them with the device. So he wound up at the Greenery alone, and many times, he would be playing games that would be better suited for more than one person.

Sometimes, he may be found sitting somewhere with string between his fingers, fussing with a cat's cradle, tugging at the string, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. Other times, he may have put out a circle of sorts, laying on his belly, and trying to knock some marbles out of the circle, playing against himself. Then there were the few times that he'd be found playing hopscotch by himself, using some pulled up flowers or plants to outline the shape of the squares. He wasn't so great at hopscotch, often wobbling and trembling as he leapt from square to square. Sometimes he even fell, whining as he did so and sighing at freshly scraped knees- but all in all, Eddie seemed okay. If not a teensy bit too alone.)


>>Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ: Oɴᴇ ᴍᴀɴɪᴀᴄ ᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ:Vᴀʀɪᴏᴜs

(The one important thing that Eddie has been taught while living here was that he should learn self-defense and how to use a weapon. Neither of these things he was particularly good at. What he was good at was running away. He was actually just very good at running in general, and sometimes could be found doing just that all throughout the station. He'd found a pair of shorts back in Kaittos that weren't too dissimilar to ones from home, and some tube socks. His sneakers were already great for running, and Eddie took to the exercise like a fish to water. He ran all around the ship, panting sometimes, other times sprinting like hell itself was after him. Sometimes, that might not have been such a stretch.

He isn't always running though. Sometimes, he's practicing hits and kicks in the air. At times, they're clumsy, not at all precise, and clearly more based on moves he's seen in movies than moves any professional fighter would use. After all, the fifties weren't known for their accurate depictions of fighting in film, so he doesn't have an amazing basis. All the same, he punches and swings his feet around at invisible enemies. Most of the time, he's just sort of flailing, falling often, but always getting back up. It'd seem almost comical if he wasn't so obviously serious and intense about it.

Other times, Eddie can be found using sort of weapons. Some simpler ones are Eddie practicing throwing rocks at cans or bottles. His aim actually isn't that bad, nor is his arm. He could always be stronger, but for as small as he is, his hits land pretty solid. He knocks cans over often, and sometimes will make little targets. But his stance is awful, and he isn't always good at certain throws.

Then there's the shiv. Eddie really has no clue what to do with a shiv except, again, what he has seen in movies. He swings his arm in sharp arcs, the shiv slicing through the air. It still feels dangerous in his hands, and he feels scared of it, like it'll turn around and stab him. He does wind up cutting himself a few times- nothing bad at all, but enough to draw some light specks of blood. Depending on when one might find him practicing with his shiv, they might also find his little fingers covered in bandaids and the like. At least he's doing his best. The one thing he never really seems to practice though is actually stabbing anything. He isn't so great at being violent.)

>>Cʜᴏᴏsᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ

(Eddie is all over the place! Feel free to pick where you find him. He's a kid always trying to do stuff and entertain himself, so anywhere is feasible.)

>>ᴏᴏᴄ ɴᴏᴛᴇs

Eddie will be all around the ship doing a variety of things! I chose a bunch of options within each overall option above- so feel free to tackle anything however you want. If you have any concerns or requests, please feel free to send me a PM either on my journal or on my plurk (clussy). If you would like a personalized starter, or have a scene idea, also shoot me a message! Thank you :)

Comments

ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ: ɪ'ᴍ ᴀ ɢᴏɴᴇʀ, sᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴍʏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ

[clussy]

(In the soft privacy of the Losers' room, tucked behind the walls pinned with colorful blankets, and inside Richie and Eddie's room, Eddie is making a Choice. Richie had gone out a while ago to get food, Eddie thinks, having left Eddie to his own devices. His own device, mostly, meaning his mind. Every day wasn't like this. Some days he didn't think much about things except for what he wanted to eat next, or if he ought to trim his nails, or if the guys would want to play a game of freeze tag later.

Today though, Eddie couldn't help but work his mind around his mother. It isn't a new subject, and it was never going to be an old subject, because for Eddie, his mother served as a constant experience even without her here. What he never told anyone, not even the Losers, was that he could hear her voice perfectly in his head. Always whispering in his ear about this sickness or that.

She wasn't so kind to him today. (All of this space, Eddie, it's going to kill you! You haven't been taking your medicine, have you? Your body is too delicate to neglect it like that. God, Eddie, you're so delicate. When you were very young, we were so scared...so scared....)

His hands close over his ears, his breathing shallow as he tries so, so hard to not cave into her voice. All of his pill bottles were neatly organized on a space on the wall, a little divet. There weren't as many- as he hadn't showed up with all of his medication, but there were enough.

And on nearly all the bottles was a screaming little: Take As Needed. The tell-tale sign of his mother's corruption, her lies.

Yet knowing they were placebos didn't always stop him from wanting to dry-swallow all the pills. To fix what was sick inside of him, because he was sick, wasn't he?

But he wasn't. Oh no, siree, he wasn't sick at all. He knew he wasn't. He wasn't sick, and he didn't want to be sick.)

Shut up.

(He drags his hands over his face, and makes a brash, brave, and probably very stupid decision. He swipes all of his bottles onto the ground and gets down onto his hands and knees. He grabs the nearest heavy thing- a book, and smashes it down on top. Some of the bottles splinter, but most of them bounce away. He uncaps the bottles and pours the pills out, and hits them with the book. Several times over, crunching down the pills until they were useless piles of crumbs and dust.)

[beeped]

[Even though Richie spent a majority of his time with Eddie, it certainly wasn't all the time. Sometimes he needed to take a shower, or take a leak, or something otherwise private. Other times he's aware enough to know that they both need their space or they're going to bicker in the bad way.

Right now, it's simply a combination of feeling too cooped up and completely ravenous. Neither of them are new things at all, but the solution is easy enough. A long bike ride around the station before stuffing his face with food and filling his pockets with anything edible was a sure way to do the trick.

When he returns to their room, he's got his surplus energy out for now, and he heads straight to the room he shares with Eddie to share the treats he managed to find. He stops in the doorway when he returns, his best friend's name halfway spoken before he stops short to watch Eddie destroy his medicine.

He's only just standing there briefly--a matter of mere seconds, before he's making his way to Eddie and kneeling beside him. He rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder and squeezes. He's there to comfort and assess the situation, but his words don't necessarily reflect that. Or to anyone else, that might be the case. But probably not for Eddie.]

Hey, good thinking Eds. If we put it in a baggie we can pass it off as coke and sell it off to some idiot.

[clussy]

(Eddie needed his own alone time too. Granted, a lot of his alone time involved weird feelings of bothersome, and feeling that kid-loneliness sometimes. Never a good thing, and today was kind of an incident of that. Stupid, really.

He somehow forgets the technical fact that Richie would eventually come back to their room. He'd gotten caught up in his rage at his mother's lies, his frustration with his own mind, that he just acted.

Now he was sitting there with a book on his hand, his face a little shocked at Richie's appearance.

But Richie is...Richie. Eddie turns to stare at him, his eyes tired and his hands shaking a little now. That hand is an anchor, something Eddie grasps onto mentally with all his strength. He cannot let go or he might float just like all those other kids.

It takes him nearly a full minute to reply.)

Anyone who does coke is an idiot. Anyone who does drugs period is a moron. Rots your brain cells.

(Eddie had only one experience with people who did drugs, and it was all those crackhead homeless people that hung around the train tracks. But Eddie does not want to think about the homeless people near Neibolt. He does not, and will not. He can't afford to right now. Everything was too tender.

He smiles a little.)

Maybe that one girl will buy it.

(Seeing that post had been...weird for Eddie. The fifties were not notorious for casual drug use, after all. He drops the book and his hands curl into small fists on his lap, his eyes sad again as he stared at the pile.)

I'm really stupid, aren't I?

Lᴏɢᴀɴ: ɪ'ᴍ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍʏ ʙᴏᴅʏ

[clussy]

(Between his nightmares, and finally deciding to smash his medicine out once and for all, Eddie decided he really needed to start doing something with himself. He picked at his stupid skinny legs, poked at his stupid skinny arms, and fussed with the shiv he had been thoughtfully gifted not so long ago to defend himself. Practicing on his own wasn't horrible, but he was starting to realize that nothing was changing except he had grown a pretty good pain tolerance towards accidental shiv scratches and cuts. His knees and elbows were banged up from falling all over himself, and even with a few random lessons here and there, Eddie was hopeless.

The first person he thought about was Laura. She was smart, resourceful, and knew how to fight better than any kid that he knew. But a part of him also didn't want to rely on her for everything. He felt bad enough that he could scarcely return the favor of protecting her back (though God knows he'd die trying), the last thing he needed to do was be an even bigger burden and ask her to spend time teaching Eddie how to fight his own demons, and other potential threats.

But thinking about Laura made him think about Logan. Logan was who was the most serious, and probably the scariest, and maybe the most masculine guy Eddie's ever met. Yet despite all that, adults like Mr. Keene with his wispy hair, and thin smiling, had been far more horrifying than Logan ever was- even when Logan had yelled at Richie. Logan was angry, maybe, but Eddie didn't think he'd ever sit behind some fat wooden desk and leer over it at Eddie, knowing he knew something that Eddie didn't. Calling Eddie crazy, dangling his medicine just out of reach.

Not with how Laura was, not with how Logan felt towards Laura.

So maybe he was scary, but he was...

Eddie felt like he was scary the way a dog was scary. Which was far less scary, no matter which way you looked at it, than a regular adult was scary. So Eddie carefully puts his shiv in the poorly handmade sheath he made out of some old leather and metal parts (really, it's a shit show that barely looks like a sheath- but it works) and makes his way out. He bikes his way out, stopping by a few places he think Logan may be. He doesn't know the man well, but he can figure it out easily enough. After all, Logan didn't strike him as the sort to be found at the animal nursery too much.

Eventually, Eddie finds him. He doesn't approach right away. Instead, he stands back with the shiv held against his bony chest, and staying tucked back and out of the way of whatever it is that Logan was doing. He rarely asks adults for help like this, but Eddie knew he had to do something. After a while of just standing, of watching with uncertain eyes, Eddie finally speaks up with a rather small:)

Mr. Logan?

[el_paso]

[ Charles hadn't needed to ask him to take the kids under his wing. It's something that's been on his mind for months now, wrestled with after the incident on the slaver planet (Christ, Laura's screams and Jean's lifeless face still haunt him), well past their imprisonment in that lonely park and subsequent arrival here on the station. They can't have everyone Kelly Ann's age and younger not knowing how the Hell to defend themselves, not anymore, not when the pockets of Ingress energy could shove something horrifying through, not just grouchy old men and bitchy teenagers.

It still fucking sucks.

Logan hefts another couple of mats over his shoulder, making the trek from the gym's supply closet to the center of the open activity hall. Someone's got an eye on him, a nervous heartbeat and the filmy, salty scent of sweat coloring the air, but he ignores it while he works, at least until the young voice pops up. ]

Eddie.

[ He drops that load on the floor beside the rest, and gets a start on unfolding the lightly padded, bright green mats. ]

You plannin' on using that, kid?

[clussy]

(Eddie wonders at first if he should offer to help. That seemed like the polite sort of thing to do. But embarrassingly enough, those mats were pretty heavy and he wasn't so sure how much help he would actually be. He jumps a bit when Logan says his name back, which really, is a stupid reaction on account that Eddie had just called out to him.

He steps into the gym a bit more, watching still, but makes no move to help. This entire place was very much foreign to Eddie. Eddie who had spent practically all of his physical education sitting on the sidelines due to his mother's insistence and forced doctor notes. The gym coach back at school had tried his best to convince Sonia to just let Eddie play with the other boys, but it was fruitless. Here though, here Eddie could play however he wanted to. Most days, it was even easy to forget that he was supposed to have asthma.)

Um. Not really. But if I have to, I was thinking maybe I should know how to?

(The boy wasn't inclined towards violence. Playing with weapons wasn't his idea of a good time, and he didn't have a lick of warrior-minded spirit in him. He wanted to be just barely good enough, better than he had been.)

You know how to do stuff, right? Like. Fight I mean.

chapter four!

[callamities]

[Calla has never been the sort to put up with solitude for very long. Ever since his close encounter with that eyeless, legless thing earlier this week, he’s been even more antsy about being on his own. On those occasions where he suddenly finds himself alone in a hall or room, he immediately hurries towards sounds of activity, the mechanical tick of his sound rising and falling as he flees the oppressive silence.

That need to escape is exactly what causes him to almost jog into a small Creator as he turns a corner in the halls.

His first reaction is to yelp and jump back in surprise. To be fair, his fear of encountering the creature from earlier already had him pretty skittish. When he sees that this Creator is not short due to being a horrific ambulatory torso, he quickly rights himself and opens his mouth to apologize—only to see the blade and clam up, fear once again crossing his features.

This doesn’t stop his ticking from increasing in both speed and volume. After a moment passes without catastrophe, he seems to find his voice, though his tone is still nervous.]

Apologies, Creator, [Calla says, dipping his head in a short bow. He wonders anxiously if he’s supposed to call him that. Is there another word for the children of Creators?... Creatorlings, maybe? He’s not going to risk it.] I didn’t know you were there.

[There’s no pretense in his fear or subsequent apprehension—no sign of an adult playfully indulging a child’s dreams of fearsomeness. Calla looks, for all the world, as if he’s genuinely afraid of the boy.]

[clussy]

(One would think that after his experiences back in his own hometown, Eddie would have a violent aversion to being alone. But children were weirdly sturdy like that sometimes. Besides, the Greenery always felt bright, safe. Though Eddie didn't always have a good time of being alone. Sometimes, that oppressive silence caught up to him too and sent him running as well.

Today, Eddie was focusing intently on the blade. He's swinging it upright in a move that he particularly thinks looks pretty good (see: pretty cool) when a guy nearly runs right into him. It's not hard enough to knock Eddie down, but the shiv does wind up falling from Eddie's hands, rendering it completely useless at his feet.

Despite his occasional shows of bravery, Eddie is quickly inspired by fear, and right now, his heart was practically in his throat. He hadn't been expecting anyone to pop out of the blue, and he holds his chest for a moment, staring up at the guy.

Eddie notices three weird things in slow succession: first, the odd mechanical noise that struck him as almost watery and churning. Second, he was almost positive that this stranger just called him...Creator?

And thirdly, and maybe most interesting of all, the adult (Eddie thinks) seems...

Afraid.

Afraid of Eddie.

This is something that Eddie has never really experienced. Eddie was the smallest of his friends, the weakest, the most easily frightened, and there wasn't an inch worth of intimidation on him. His eyes were large, his whole body frozen with this strange realization. But Eddie is not a sadist. He does not feel empowered by this feeling. It isn't the same as winning a consensual wrestling match or getting one of his friend's head under water during a play-fight while swimming. He doesn't want to scare anyone, even if, guiltily enough, it does give him a brief thrill at the idea that he could scare anyone period. The feeling doesn't last.

Instead, he holds his hands together in front of him over his chest, his own heart still thumping. He doesn't think to pick up the shiv.)

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. (Hell, Eddie himself had nearly pissed himself, but that didn't seem too important right then.)

[callamities]

[The more Calla looks at the small Creator, the more obvious it is that he doesn’t have any ill will—in fact, the boy looks quite startled himself.

Though Calla isn’t sure how to explain why he was apparently stalking around the halls with a knife.]

No need to apologize, [Calla says, flashing a precise, self-deprecating smile. The ticking has wound down now, settling into an even, metronome-like pace.] It was my fault. I practically scared myself.

[He glances between the boy and the blade on the ground. When the other makes no move to pick it up himself, Calla does it for him, picking it up gingerly and offering it back to its owner handle-first. If he has any awareness that children aren’t generally given shivs to play with, he doesn’t show it.]

I’ll be more careful in the future.

greenery.

[vaikartana]

[ The Greenery leaves something to be desired; the space is limited, for one, and the selection of plantlife it houses seems more practical than aesthetic. Still, it's the one patch of life in a sprawling station made of metal and chrome, so Karna is content to occupy it whenever he can. There's something relaxing about the muteness of nature, after all— of its silent tenacity, its reassuring permanence. Flowers will be flowers, no matter which sun they're using to photosynthesize.

That said, there's also something endearingly familiar about the way young people will find ways to occupy themselves, alone or no. Eddie's preoccupation with his one-man hopscotch routine is nostalgic in a way that Karna can't place (maybe it reminds him of his own lonely childhood, bare feet and sleeping under awnings), so he takes to watching from a distance, idly turning his thoughts over in his own head—

—until, well. Eddie trips.

He seems to be doing fine, all things considered, but there's a merit to making sure that the boy is alright. A little scrape is nothing to write home about, but it's best treated before things go south. ]

...Your knee.

[ Is what Karna starts with, as he lifts himself from his semi-hidden perch against a nearby tree. The taciturn set of his mouth should speak volumes about how cheerful he is upon first glance (not at all), but his body language is charismatic and open, sharp but honest. Truth be told, he's a bit incongruous in their current settings— white hair, thin frame, gold armor— but then again, he'd probably be out of place anywhere. ]

Do you need assistance?

[clussy]

(Eddie did not like pain, but he liked the confirmation of it. The physical proof that something was actually wrong with him, right there, in the ripped skin of a scraped knee that he could see with his own eyes. There was no need to worry about mind stuff when you were bleeding. No one had to lean over a desk to tell you that you had busted your knee, that you were crazy for not seeing it.

Still, it does sting, and Eddie hisses through his teeth, rolling over to look at the damage. Nothing severe at all, but its got some specks of grass and dirt in it that make Eddie grimace. Infection. The word wiggles its way into his mind, but he can't get too paranoid about it before a voice is jarring him from his thoughts.

Eddie looks up, and registers the face of a stranger. Young, but not young enough. Age holds a direct connection to Eddie's comfort, and he hesitates just a second before answering, his voice shy when he finally does answer:)

It's okay. It isn't so bad. (Well.) It just burns a little.

(An adult, maybe, but a kinder one if they're asking after him, he thinks. That and the man is wearing what Eddie recognizes as armor. Golden armor. Perhaps a bit of Western ideology, but the sheen of its golden luster was enough to remind Eddie of carefully sculpted relics of angels with rings of golden halos, of knights in the history text books with golden lined armor. The Good Guys, as it were, wore gold. He wonders silently (though no doubt, he would ask out loud soon enough) if this man is a knight.

Eddie relaxes a little bit. Knights, soldiers, warriors- they were good. Safe. He digs his palms into the grass to push himself up to his feet, testing his foot out on the grass to make sure it didn't hurt to put weight on his knee. Now that he's over the shock of falling, his face was steadily growing redder with the realization that someone had seen him fall. How embarrassing.)

I think maybe I just need to wash it. In case it gets infected.

hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out?

[inconsequence]

[They understand what practicing one's stance and poise in regards to combat looks like, and they recognize fear. Oh, but do they recognize it.]

[They've only recently learned what it is to be relatively adept in the ways of combat. Thanks to semi-regular sparring sessions with Rinzler, they can thrust and parry and riposte as well as anyone - or as well as any extremely elementary child learner can be realistically expected to. Same difference, really.]

[They watch him swing at invisible opponents with bandages on his fingers (* Has already been used several times.), for a time, before intervening.]

I see you've been taking my advice.

[clussy]

(Eddie doesn't even know what the word 'parry' means. His vocabulary isn't very impressive though in general. Derry, Maine wasn't known for its excellency in education.

To Eddie's credit, he does not drop the shiv even though he startles a bit at Chara's sudden approach. He brings the shiv a little too close to his body at not a great angle, but he manages to not cut himself.

He turns scarlet because really, having anyone catch him practice badly was embarrassing. Having Chara catch him was worse if only because it was they that gave Eddie the shiv to begin with. He stands up straighter.)

Um. (He's trying to catch his breath. Give him a second here.)

I'm trying to, yeah. I really...I wanna keep my friends safe if I can. And I'm tired of being weak.

greenery!

[lavelly]

[Lavellan hadn't expected to encounter anyone else on his meandering path through the greenery, but coming across Eddie is a pleasant surprise.

He'd never really had any desire to be a mentor figure, despite ostensibly having been in training for it. But he finds he likes most of the younger people he's encountered on this station, and Eddie also seems so... isolated. (He hasn't seen the network post on account of being a luddite.) The least Lavellan can do is pay him some attention.

He approaches quietly and stands nearby, unobtrusively, for a few minutes, just observing as Eddie shoots marbles around. Then he asks softly:]

What are you doing?

[clussy]

(It's a bit annoying to play marbles with himself, and he thinks maybe a little dumb too, but he keeps it up because there isn't too much else to do on the station to begin with. He doesn't really notice he's being watched either- mostly because he's so focused on shooting the marbles out.

But Lavellan has this soft, non-threatening voice that it doesn't startle Eddie. He does lift his head in surprise, but there's no fear, no knee-jerk, heart-in-throat reaction. Just unawareness becoming awareness.

He recognizes Lavellan, and he smiles. Lavellan had given him quite a bit of faith that day, and there was something in Lavellan's gentleness that made Eddie feel...a little steadier about himself. Though he didn't know why.)

What, marbles? (Eddie looks surprised again, but this time for a different reason. Except with Laura, most people are the ones explaining stuff to him. He gets up onto his knees, palms flat on the ground.)

Have you never played marbles before?

Medical Wing

[otiosity]

[Hawke tends to avoid the medical wing. It's clean, smells funny, and always ends with her getting poked and prodded in the worst way. But normal people need medical supplies so here she is, wandering through and picking out things she needs like she's at the super market. Allergy medicine, tissues, bandages for when Tony's work in chemistry goes south, burn salve for the same thing, pain meds, the usual.

As she's stuffing the supplies into her bag and heading out the door, she notices someone lying on the recovery beds. Someone small and thin and... it's Eddie. For a second her stomach drops like she just toppled off a cliff and she quickly crosses the room towards him. As she gets closer, she relaxes. He isn't injured or sick as far as she can tell. He's just... lying there. Not even napping. Which is it's own sort of curiosity.

Resting her elbow on bed frame, she cocks an eyebrow and asks him-]

I'm not one to judge other people's past times, but that looks well, completely boring.

[clussy]

(Eddie can hear someone approaching distantly. He thinks about quickly making an escape, but he's been playing this weird mind-game for a while enough now that his body doesn't want to cooperate with him except for his feet twitching a little at the end of the bed.

His eyes flutter and roll over, and there's Hawke, standing like a knight right at his bedside. Eddie exhales slowly, feeling relieved. If it were anyone else, he thinks he might have gotten in trouble.)

I'm thinking about what it'd be like to be here for cancer.

(He explains this calmly, as if it were a perfectly regular thing for a boy his age to wonder about. His fingers curl and uncurl, his body sagging against the bed.)

I always wonder if they can feel the cancer inside them. Like pulsing tumors eating everything up. Just-glurgh.

(He rests his hands over his stomach and curl them into it, making a sort of squelching motion with them.)

The cancer ward back home had all these people who were always laying in bed just. (His arms drop back down and he stares up at the ceiling.) All day.

I guess- maybe- dying was pretty boring for them too. (He says this absently, thoughtfully. What would be worse? Dying, or the boredom from waiting for death?)

4 some empty lab thing

[shiro2hero]

... It'll be easier if you pick a target.

[He didn't mean to sneak up on the kid. But, in the interest of keeping to his promise of security duty, making the rounds of the station on a regular basis always seemed to be a good idea to him. He's armored, as usual for the patrols, but minus the helmet, for now.]

[Noises from the empty room had caught his attention. Shiro had poked his head in the doorway, only to be confronted with the sight of a familiar kid, looking like he was reenacting a kung-fu movie. Like something he'd come across Lance doing, in the beginning of all their training.]

[... so maybe it's understandable that he gently calls out a suggestion. Some kind of encouragement.]

[clussy]

(Eddie is mid swing of the leg when Shiro's voice gently calls out. He doesn't fall, but he clumsily has that leg coming down in such a way that he does stumble a little bit. He hops awkwardly from foot to foot, regaining his balance. Tries to remember to breathe, but turns out that advice was a little harder to follow than anticipated.

He pulls his body around to look over to Shiro, his face flushed both from exertion and being caught at doing something probably stupid. He wets his lips, rubbing the back of his hand across his brow.)

I- I don't have any targets. Should I like, pick a spot on the wall or something?

two!

[gerechtigkeit]

[Siegfried practically lives in the library, these days- if not reading what he can find, then it's discovering new books that he's never come across before. It's been an interesting find so far; there's worlds it speaks about that he's never heard of before, and it fascinates him to learn something new.

On one such occasion, he can make out the tiny "I'm sorry's" as he's browsing something about an alien culture. His head lifts from the book and he actually leans out of the aisle he's in, trying to find the boy. At first, he doesn't see him, but he does see a stack of books with legs and two small hands walking towards him.]

...Eddie? [Call him curious, but it's rather comforting to see the other here, even if the poor boy looks like he's about to fall over with all of those in his hands.]

[clussy]

(The familiar voice draws Eddie to a shuffling halt. He tips himself around a bit so that he could actually see Siegfried. Once he realizes that it is indeed his friend, Eddie gives a broad smile.)

Hi, Saber!

(He whisper-shouts this, having known the Law of the Library for a while now considering the one back home.

Of course, it is also as he starts to move again that the top book of his little tower starts to slide. Eddie wobbles and tips himself backwards so that the book steadies. That was a close one. His eyes go back to Siegfried, and although his arms are shaking a little, Eddie doesn't really seem to mind taking the time to stop and talk to a friend.)

What are you doing here?

uno

[tearsinajar]

[ Elena had been there for the most part, tucked away in dealing with some inventory stats. She'd heard a noise and had gone to peek, to see if anyone needed medical attention, and she found herself watching on as a young boy she didn't recognize grew curiouser and curiouser with the tools and drawers. She'd said nothing and kept silent. At least he was being careful and she hadn't had to step in and practice her "mother" tone. The further and further he went on, Elena couldn't help but think of Cassie, the young girl she'd only met through photos, her future daughter.

They looked like they'd be about the same age...

It was when he went off into the recovery area to sit in front of the pods that she followed, trailing to keep an eye on him. Two minutes into watching him stare off at the pods, like he was in a completely different world, that was when she stepped forward and went to crouch next to him. ]

Hey... You okay?

[clussy]

(It was a small blessing to think that Elena could have used her mother tone but didn't. If there was anything that scared Eddie worse than common colds, it might just be a firm mothering. Damn near struck the fear of God in the kid. He is gentle though, responsible with his hands, careful when he puts things back.

Eddie probably should have realized he wasn't alone, but truthfully, he didn't have the greatest awareness all of the time. Especially when he got lost in his own head.

And lost in his own head was precisely where he was, staring at the faint glow of the pods. It's a bit of why he startles when she finally speaks. He hadn't even noticed her crouching down.

A hand flutters to his chest, and holds there, his eyes having gone wide. It's not as bad of a scare as it could have been, and Eddie's just as soon letting go of a tightly wound breath.)

Oh...(Right. He is in the medical ward. A part of him almost instinctively says 'no', but he swallows the word down and gives a small nod.)

I was just. I was just looking. (Said with a child-tinge of automatically assumed guilt- even if he hadn't actually been doing anything wrong. He doesn't know this woman, doesn't know the kind of adult she might be. The murky territory makes him cautious.)

library;

[seeingscarlet]

[The sound of all those books falling in an otherwise quiet library does draw attention, but it's not an angry librarian peering around the stacks. If anything, Wanda's relieved to see that it's just a kid and not that thing again.]

Are you all right?

[She sets the two books she's found down on a random shelf and quickly moves to help. Sure, her powers could make short work of the mess, but she doesn't want to frighten him.]

[clussy]

(Eddie's on the ground surrounded by the pile of books he had dropped, his face pinched up in frustration. Yet the moment a head turns that corner, Eddie instantly locks up nervously. He's got one of those complexes where he feels guilty even when he hasn't done anything wrong. Yet the face that peers around at him is not one of an angry adult ready to lecutre, but instead of a concerned looking woman.

He relaxes slightly, and his shoulders slump.)

Yeah I just- I stumbled.

(Which sounds a lot better than saying 'I thought I could carry more books, but I was so, so wrong'.

He begins to pull the books together, surprised even further when she starts to help him.)

It's okay- I kind of made the mess. (He didn't want to bother her, after all.)