Nico Robin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
devilofohara) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-03-18 07:53 am
devilofohara) wrote in thisavrou_log2016-03-18 07:53 am
[closed] I won't use words again
Who: Nico Robin "Jaguar D. Clover" and YOU!
What: Various things!
When: March 8th, 13th & 14th
Where: Various places!
Warnings: Child trauma? Mention of death? Will update if anything bad happens.
March 8th, Closed to Sam Flynn
[When Sam receives his notification that he's been assigned a buddy, it had already been a week since the new arrivals had been brought in through the Ingress. The notification had been sent to his MID of his buddy's name - Jaguar D. Clover, if he can believe it - and message for him to meet with her in the Mess Hall, sometime after breakfast.
When he gets there, Robin is already there, sitting at a table with an empty food tray (that she still hasn't put away, despite having finished breakfast almost an hour ago) and a book in front of her. When he approaches, she's quick to look up - she hadn't been very focused on reading anyway, it had been a pretense more than anything - and speak to the man.]
Are you Sam Flynn?
[She looks with him with a calm, serious expression that didn't quite reflect how scared, defeated and uncomfortable the young girl feels about being brought aboard the Moira. She doesn't trust this ship or anyone aboard it - least of all the Captains, ]
I'm Clover.
~
March 13th, Closed to Zam Wesell and Riptide
[So this whole translation error thing? It hasn't escaped Robin's notice. Sure, she doesn't quite understand that the MIDs are malfunctioning, or that they were translating her to begin with but it's pretty hard not to notice the fact that basically no one can understand her at all.
She didn't even bother reporting to work at the cafe this morning. It was a stupid job when she could be understood, but now that no one understands her? She can't take orders like that, so there's no real point in bothering.
That's no real loss, though. It isn't as if a ship needs an assistant barista - or that she cares enough about the well-being of the ship for it to matter if it did need one. No, the worst part was the books. Whatever had scrambled everyone's speech around her has made it so that she can't read any of the books in this place either - which means that Robin is an eight year old child with no work and nothing to read. It doesn't take long for her to get bored.
When a certain bounty hunter comes walking down one of the wider corridors, they'll undoubtedly notice the small child tossing a ball. Which, of course, wouldn't be all that strange of a sight, if it weren't for the fact who she's throwing the ball too: A set of disembodied arms, sticking out of the Moira's wall.
She continues as Zam passes by, only giving the stranger a faint nod of acknowledgement before returning to her bizarre game of catch as if there was nothing wrong with this sight at all.]
~
March 14th (Early Morning), closed to Allison Ruth
[Robin hasn't been back to the cafe at all since this whole translation mishap began, but by the end of the 13th she had had just about enough of this not-understanding-anyone nonsense. Which is why she let herself into the cafe that night, with a few of the books she's already finished and an empty notebook.
It's obvious enough that not everyone in this place is speaking the same language - and the books don't all seem to be in the same language either. It might just be a pipe dream, but her hope is that translating some of the texts in these books will help act as a proper go-between for herself and others.
The flaw in this plan, however, is that translating things from scratch is very hard. Scholars are said to stand on the shoulders of her predecessors, and Robin (talented though she may be) is no exception to this rule. By the time morning arrives, she hasn't made nearly as much progress as she would have liked to - only a few pages worth.
The very tired little girl looks up at Allison when she enters the cafe to start the day. She gives the woman an annoyed look - not for anything Allison has done, per se, but rather because she suspects that she won't be able to speak with her manager any more easily than she's been able to speak to anyone else.]
...is it morning already?
[The question is rhetorical, more than anything. It's not like she thinks she'll be understood, after all.]
~
March 14th (Late Morning), Closed to Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff
[Last night had been, more or less, a bust. It wouldn't be correct to say that that she accomplished nothing, but she hadn't gotten enough done to act as the translator she had hoped to be. She'll continue her efforts later, of course, but for now she's given it a rest. If only because Allison insisted on her taking an actual, literal rest.
Which is why there's an exhausted eight year old child walking sluggishly down the hallway of the Moira, back to the room she's been assigned to. Her feet drag slightly on the ground as she goes, and the bags beneath her eyes make it evident that she didn't spend the night sleeping.
It takes longer than it probably should for her to notice that she isn't the only one in the corridor, and that two other woman are walking in the opposite direction. And it takes another moment after that for her to realize that she actually recognizes one of them - Natalie, the woman she had met in the mess hall some time ago.
As she draws nearer, she nods to them in greeting. The exhaustion on her face is clear, but there's also a curiosity there as well.]
Can either of you understand me?
[It's sort of a long shot, she knows, but she's curious. Allison could understand her, after all, who's to say that there isn't someone else aboard who could as well?
Unfortunately, what little hopes she are in vain, because her words most certainly will not be understood. Natasha and Wanda will definitely hear some similarities between Robin's native tongue and their homeworld's version of Russian. None of the words translate, of course, but the sound of the words being spoken, as well as how they're being spoken, share some striking similarities with the Earth language - something that will be particularly noticeable to a native Russian speaker.]
What: Various things!
When: March 8th, 13th & 14th
Where: Various places!
Warnings: Child trauma? Mention of death? Will update if anything bad happens.
March 8th, Closed to Sam Flynn
[When Sam receives his notification that he's been assigned a buddy, it had already been a week since the new arrivals had been brought in through the Ingress. The notification had been sent to his MID of his buddy's name - Jaguar D. Clover, if he can believe it - and message for him to meet with her in the Mess Hall, sometime after breakfast.
When he gets there, Robin is already there, sitting at a table with an empty food tray (that she still hasn't put away, despite having finished breakfast almost an hour ago) and a book in front of her. When he approaches, she's quick to look up - she hadn't been very focused on reading anyway, it had been a pretense more than anything - and speak to the man.]
Are you Sam Flynn?
[She looks with him with a calm, serious expression that didn't quite reflect how scared, defeated and uncomfortable the young girl feels about being brought aboard the Moira. She doesn't trust this ship or anyone aboard it - least of all the Captains, ]
I'm Clover.
~
March 13th, Closed to Zam Wesell and Riptide
[So this whole translation error thing? It hasn't escaped Robin's notice. Sure, she doesn't quite understand that the MIDs are malfunctioning, or that they were translating her to begin with but it's pretty hard not to notice the fact that basically no one can understand her at all.
She didn't even bother reporting to work at the cafe this morning. It was a stupid job when she could be understood, but now that no one understands her? She can't take orders like that, so there's no real point in bothering.
That's no real loss, though. It isn't as if a ship needs an assistant barista - or that she cares enough about the well-being of the ship for it to matter if it did need one. No, the worst part was the books. Whatever had scrambled everyone's speech around her has made it so that she can't read any of the books in this place either - which means that Robin is an eight year old child with no work and nothing to read. It doesn't take long for her to get bored.
When a certain bounty hunter comes walking down one of the wider corridors, they'll undoubtedly notice the small child tossing a ball. Which, of course, wouldn't be all that strange of a sight, if it weren't for the fact who she's throwing the ball too: A set of disembodied arms, sticking out of the Moira's wall.
She continues as Zam passes by, only giving the stranger a faint nod of acknowledgement before returning to her bizarre game of catch as if there was nothing wrong with this sight at all.]
~
March 14th (Early Morning), closed to Allison Ruth
[Robin hasn't been back to the cafe at all since this whole translation mishap began, but by the end of the 13th she had had just about enough of this not-understanding-anyone nonsense. Which is why she let herself into the cafe that night, with a few of the books she's already finished and an empty notebook.
It's obvious enough that not everyone in this place is speaking the same language - and the books don't all seem to be in the same language either. It might just be a pipe dream, but her hope is that translating some of the texts in these books will help act as a proper go-between for herself and others.
The flaw in this plan, however, is that translating things from scratch is very hard. Scholars are said to stand on the shoulders of her predecessors, and Robin (talented though she may be) is no exception to this rule. By the time morning arrives, she hasn't made nearly as much progress as she would have liked to - only a few pages worth.
The very tired little girl looks up at Allison when she enters the cafe to start the day. She gives the woman an annoyed look - not for anything Allison has done, per se, but rather because she suspects that she won't be able to speak with her manager any more easily than she's been able to speak to anyone else.]
...is it morning already?
[The question is rhetorical, more than anything. It's not like she thinks she'll be understood, after all.]
~
March 14th (Late Morning), Closed to Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff
[Last night had been, more or less, a bust. It wouldn't be correct to say that that she accomplished nothing, but she hadn't gotten enough done to act as the translator she had hoped to be. She'll continue her efforts later, of course, but for now she's given it a rest. If only because Allison insisted on her taking an actual, literal rest.
Which is why there's an exhausted eight year old child walking sluggishly down the hallway of the Moira, back to the room she's been assigned to. Her feet drag slightly on the ground as she goes, and the bags beneath her eyes make it evident that she didn't spend the night sleeping.
It takes longer than it probably should for her to notice that she isn't the only one in the corridor, and that two other woman are walking in the opposite direction. And it takes another moment after that for her to realize that she actually recognizes one of them - Natalie, the woman she had met in the mess hall some time ago.
As she draws nearer, she nods to them in greeting. The exhaustion on her face is clear, but there's also a curiosity there as well.]
Can either of you understand me?
[It's sort of a long shot, she knows, but she's curious. Allison could understand her, after all, who's to say that there isn't someone else aboard who could as well?
Unfortunately, what little hopes she are in vain, because her words most certainly will not be understood. Natasha and Wanda will definitely hear some similarities between Robin's native tongue and their homeworld's version of Russian. None of the words translate, of course, but the sound of the words being spoken, as well as how they're being spoken, share some striking similarities with the Earth language - something that will be particularly noticeable to a native Russian speaker.]
no subject
That might actually be pushing things.
Zam does a double-take when he sees it, slowing to a stop with a rather dubious expression. His eyes go from the girl to the arms and then back. He hasn’t missed the shipwide translator malfunction, but he can’t quite keep his commentary to himself.]
no subject
The arms, though? She doesn't usually use them to play catch, but their existence is the most natural thing in the world to her. They are quite literally an extension of her body, after all, even if they might not be directly attached to her.
At the sound of an indecipherable voice, Robin looks up at the stranger gawking at her powers.]
I can't understand you. [She says, giving him a somewhat disinterested look. She knows he can't understand her either, of course, but it feels weird to just ignore him.
She tosses the ball back up to the wall arms, and rather than returning throw, they keep the ball in their hands for a moment. If Zam pays attention, he'll notice a set of eyes appearing on the wall - allowing Robin to aim a little better - before the small rubber is thrown at Zam.
Not very hard, of course. She's only eight years old, after all.]
no subject
[At least he’s ready when the arms suddenly toss the ball his way. He catches it and looks from the arms and eyes on the wall and then at the girl.]
[Pointless waiting for an answer. After a moment, he tosses the ball back to her. He glances back at the limbs protruding from the wall. Probably the most disturbing thing about them, besides the fact that they exist at all, is the fact that they look like they belong to a child.
He looks back at the girl.]
no subject
The last thing he says definitely sounds like a question. And it doesn't exactly take a genius to figure out what he's asking about - the same thing everyone has questions about.]
Those are mine.
[She glances up at the arms and eyes on the wall, her expression completely neutral as she watches them all disappear into light pink flower petals that fade into the air before they hit the ground, leaving no trace where of their existence on the surface they had once been in.
Of course, words aren't really going to be of any help in explaining her situation. A demonstration is in order here.]
Watch.
[She reaches her arm upward to point at Zam, and as she does so a second arm grows out of the inner joint of her elbow, causing her arm to look as if it were split into two identical sections halfway down.]
I can grow them wherever I want.
[She gestures downward to the ground with her strange double-arm, as a few sets of hands, feet, arms and legs grow out of the ground around them, creating a little garden of limbs around them.]
Even on other people.
[With that, she gestures further down the hall at a big blue cybertronian headed down their way. Riptides more than a few (giant-sized) steps away, but even from here it's difficult to notice the sea of flesh-tones appearing on his left arm, as Robin blooms a dozen or so of her own arms out of his.]
no subject
right up until the arms happen.]
[he waves his arm a few times but as they keep multiplying, riptide's own panic gets the better of him. reflex kicks in and... well, if neither of them have seen a giant blue bipedal robot essentially fold in on himself to turn into a boat, it'll probably be pretty jarring.
the now-blue speedboat sits in the corridor for a moment, before, in a much more clearly annoyed tone:]
[thanks, robin.]
no subject
[He knows what’s coming when the girl gestures to poor Riptide, currently walking towards them in a pleasant state of not-currently-covered-in-child-limbs. Zam shakes his head.]
[But it’s too late. A cluster of little limbs burst forth out of the Cybertronian’s own arm. Zam doesn’t need to understand what he’s saying to pick up on -- and sympathize with-- his resulting panic.
What Zam isn’t expecting is for the Cybertronian to… shapeshift? Is that what he’s doing? In a matter of seconds, where the Cybertronian once stood is… a boat? Really?
Zam stares in shocked silence for a moment, eyes going from the boat to the girl. Can the weirdness on the ship at least space itself out so Zam doesn’t have to deal with it all at once? He takes a deep breath and looks at the girl with an expression that is trying to be stern but failing.]
[He then turns and calls out to Riptide.]
no subject
Robin more or less ignores Zam as he attempts to communicate with her. She can guess at the things he's saying - the usual stuff. Things like 'What the hell is that' or 'how are you doing these things?' Calling her a freak, or a monster or any number of other things she's gotten used to being called over the years. Nothing worth listening to, even in a new language.
As she goes to finish her demonstration, though, she's completely caught off-guard by Riptide's transformation. As his body begins to fold and crumple, she's fortunately startled enough that she loses focus, and the limbs growing on him all disappear. Which is a good thing, because otherwise they would have likely all gotten crushed by his shapeshifting form.
Speaking of which, he's now... A boat? WHAT? Robin's eyes go wide at the sight of him, and her face goes red at Zam's slightly scolding tone and indecipherable words.]
I didn't do THAT. [She says, shaking her head and gesturing at the whole of Riptide's... boatness. She's got no goddamn clue as to what just changed the metal giant into a seaworthy vessel, but it certainly wasn't one of her abilities.]
Is he... Is he okay?
[Her tone is a lot less sure of herself now. Power demonstrations are one thing, but this is an entirely new experience for Robin. She's not even sure if someone can survive being folded up like that, and she certainly doesn't want to be blamed for it.]
no subject
it takes a few more seconds, but riptide's own pre-built translator finally kicks in. at least one of them will be able to understand what he says next.]
...I'm stuck. In more ways than one. Cool.
no subject
The Cybertronian is speaking, not screaming, so Zam figures that he hasn’t been too badly hurt by the shift. As he draws closer, Zam’s surprised to hear that he’s speaking in Basic, unlike virtually everyone else currently on the ship.]
For the record, that was her fault, not mine. [Zam says as he approaches, tilting his head towards the girl. Zam’s a skilled shapeshifter, sure, but they can’t cause other people to change. He comes to a stop in front of the Cybertronian-turned-sea-vehicle and stares for a long moment, trying to process exactly what has just happened.]
Look, I’m just going to ask this as bluntly as possible: are you a boat right now, and if so, why?
no subject
There was something a bit odd about what she'd said...]
Wait. Have you been here all night?!
[She doesn't even do it on purpose, but the words that spill out of Allison's mouth are in the exact same language as 'Clover' spoke to her with.]
no subject
You can understand me?!
[ Her tone is one of disbelief - both because she's only been understood once or twice in the last 24 hours, and also because if people can understand each other again then she just spent the last 12 hours translating a bunch of stuff for no reason at all. That sucks>.
A quick look back down at her indecipherable texts, however, is enough to confirm that whatever is happening isn't over yet.]
How can you understand me?!
no subject
Um, I've always been able to understand you?
[She maybe hasn't been paying a lot of attention, and maybe hasn't noticed there's a translator malfunction going on. Whoops.
But there is something odd about the way Clover is talking. And the way she's talking to Clover...]
Wait, am I not speaking English?
no subject
N-nobody else can! It's been like this for more than a day.
[She definitely looks as upset as she is confused - but that's more the result of being eight years old and staying awake all night than it is anything Allison has said thus far.]
I've been trying to translate the words in these books all night, so I could communicate with the people. You really didn't notice that this was happening?
[She gestures at her pages of notes. They aren't perfect - there are a few glaring flaws in the translation here and there, but for the most part it seems that Robin is on the right track with what she's got. It's a pretty decent job for a single night of work, especially from someone as young as Robin.]
I don't even know what English is.
no subject
Coffee first. [Turning away, she will ignore anything Clover says until she has her cup of joe in hand. Soon enough, though, she's plunking a muffin down in front of the girl and settling herself on the other side of the table, sweet caffeine in hand.]
Eat that. Then you're taking the day off to go sleep because you've been up all night...
[She turns one of the pages toward her.]
...Translating? Huh.
That's... Really impressive. Allison wouldn't even know where to start.]
Okay. Let's pretend I have no idea what's going on and start from the beginning.
no subject
The girl hasn't exactly been starving herself all night, it seems.]
...okay, well- [She starts talking with her mouth full, but then takes a second to swallow.] Yesterday night, really late, something happened and... everyone just stopped speaking the same language. I couldn't read the books anymore, either.
[Which, you know, was aggravating. Robin isn't the most social of people, but she needs to convey things sometimes.]
I started translating these things, so I could use writing to communicate with people.
[There's a bit of a pause, and then:]
Can you keep a secret?
no subject
Wow, I did not notice at all. [Allison scratches her head a little, looking over Robin's books and notes.] That devil really did come in handy...
[She looks up.] A secret? Sure.
no subject
Robin raises an eyebrow at the mention of a devil.]
...so you ate a Devil Fruit too.
[Well, that would certainly explain why she hadn't noticed the translation problems, if she'd eaten a fruit that allowed her to understand every language.
...right, though, the secret.]
You have to promise not to tell anyone. No one on the crew, and especially not the captains. Or the first mate.
[The look on her face is a serious one. She's been betrayed enough times in her life already that she's reluctant to trust anyone - even a sweet girl like Allison - with her secrets. She needs some reassurances. ]
no subject
[Allison rubs the back of her neck, not sure if she wants to talk about eating tiny devils with a kid.
Clearing her throat, she makes an X on her chest.]
Cross my heart and hope to die. I promise.
...Elizabeth is a nice lady, though.
no subject
[She gives Allison a brief glare. Elizabeth, no matter how sweet she may seem, is nothing more than a dog of the captain's to Robin. Giving away her secrets to the first mate would be as bad as shouting them to the entire crew over the network.
Her expression softens, though, when it comes time to tell her actual secret.]
I'm... not just a regular kid. I'm an archaeologist.
no subject
[Such suspicious children, honestly.
She kind of expected that sentence to end differently, with like 'I'm a superhero' or 'I'm a shapeshifter whi fights alien parasites' or something. Anything less... Odd but mundane than 'archaeologist']
O...Kay? [Why is this a secret?] Are you worried people will think you're a nerd?
no subject
Her answer to Allison's question is entirely deadpan, though. Her voice is hushed but serious, with no trace of offense or embarrassment to be found. ]
...I'm worried that someone from my world will find out and try to kill me for it.
no subject
Though Clover's answer makes her rethink that. And also choke a little.]
W-wait. What? You're just a kid! Who the fuck wants to kill a kid?!
[Whoops. You can tell she's shocked because she forgot to censor herself.]
no subject
[Not that it actually bothers her, of course. They've been over that before. But Allison had said it was important to her th at she not swear in front of a kid. ]
...a lot of people. Not everyone thinks that history is something that should be told.
[ More people than Robin could possibly hope to take on by herself, even with her powers. ]
That's why it's so important that you don't tell anyone about this. If you do, you'll be putting me in a lot of danger - and I won't ever forgive you for that.
no subject
Then she rubs her hand slowly down her face.]
Jesus Christ, the places some of you are from... Where are the people from the countries where archaeology is just a job and freedom if speech is a given right and nobody is trying to censor and kill anybody?
[Sighing, she rolls her shoulders and gives Clover a Very Serious look.]
Look, if anyone wants to hurt my employee, they're going to have to go through me first, okay?
[No child-murder on her watch!]
no subject
Free speech sort of works on a spectrum in her world - there are countries that totally allow free speech - or they would if the World Government's laws did't supercede their own. While criticism of the government is typically allowed, there are a lot of things that aren't legal anywhere - namely the studying of certain parts of the world's history.]
...they can go through you, you know. And they will. I'm not the only Devil Fruit user - there are people out there who could kill everyone on this entire ship without a thought, and a lot of them work for the military.
The only thing you can do to keep me safe is to keep this a secret, no matter what.
no subject
Her first thought is 'what even the giant not-robots?' but she doesn't voice it. For a moment she wonders if her employee us just pranking her, but she seems so sincere...]
I mean, of course I'll keep your secret.
But I'm still going to throw boiling coffee in their faces to give you a chance to escape if I need to.
[Little do either of them know that if Allison came into her full power she'd probably be more than a match for even the most terrifying Devil Fruit users.]
no subject
The name of a kid, apparently. Which could be problematic, since Sam didn't have a lot of patience for the silliness that often came along with kids.
Sam still looked back with a frown. He had the same calm expression, hands jammed into the pockets of his uniform as he looked the girl over with a sigh. He had a backpack looped over one shoulder, but notably not on his back. You're in luck, Robin, because Sam doesn't trust these unknown 'Captains' either. ]
Yeah, that's me.
I guess I'll start!
But whatever language that was sounds vaguely familiar - Wanda doesn't speak Russian but Sokovian is in the same general family. She glances towards Natasha; this is more her area of expertise.]
Did you understand that?
no subject
No, but...
[ It's not that there are any words she can make out, but it's almost as if it's an unfamiliar dialect. If she tried enough, maybe she could place a word or two, she thinks, but she's hardly an academic linguist here. ]
It's close to Russian.
[ And then she says in Russian: ]
Can you understand?
no subject
They're on the same boat, as far as familiarity is concerned. Whatever language Natalie is speaking, it isn't Robin's own- but it's close . Close enough for a brief glimmer of hope to form in the young girls expression. ]
Could you repeat that? What language are you speaking?
[ A pause. Natalie isn't from the West Blue, is she? Robin certainly hadn't gotten that impression from their previous conversation, but that doesn't mean it isn't the case.]
Where are you from?
no subject
She's asking what you're speaking, where you're from. It's close to what they speak in the 'West Blue.'
[Whatever that is.]