[Nat noticed the other girl looking, and while her looks do stand out, Nat is careful of how she watches which is why she offers the question to begin with, to maybe draw her closer to question. Maybe she's drawn to girls like her, similar in ways she doesn't voice, but still takes an interest in nonetheless.
Her phrasing gives a low, half chuckle before Nat's nodding and picking up the red rose corsage instead.]
Matches the hair a little better?
[It gives her a reason to look over at Eleven a little better. She wouldn't have minded the pretty pink orchid either, but the rose certainly does stand out. But it doesn't take a few more moments from her slipping the corsage on that the garden party they're at gives way to old architecture instead, wooden walls, beautiful craftmanship. There is a younger version of Natasha standing there, too, with a woman that has failure hair, pulled into a bun.
Sloppy, she tells Natasha. Nat has relived this before. The ceremony is necessary for you to join your place in the world.
I have no place in the world. The younger Natasha, only a few more years older than Eleven herself says.
There's a man bagged and on his knees there. There's a gun. Nat's breathing heavily. She's relived this before, knowing the signs. It's not real. It's not real. The gunshot goes off, and Natasha knows what it means, but she turns to try and block the view from the other girl. She doesn't know her history obviously, but no little girl should be subjected to the horrors of this place.]
no subject
Her phrasing gives a low, half chuckle before Nat's nodding and picking up the red rose corsage instead.]
Matches the hair a little better?
[It gives her a reason to look over at Eleven a little better. She wouldn't have minded the pretty pink orchid either, but the rose certainly does stand out. But it doesn't take a few more moments from her slipping the corsage on that the garden party they're at gives way to old architecture instead, wooden walls, beautiful craftmanship. There is a younger version of Natasha standing there, too, with a woman that has failure hair, pulled into a bun.
Sloppy, she tells Natasha. Nat has relived this before. The ceremony is necessary for you to join your place in the world.
I have no place in the world. The younger Natasha, only a few more years older than Eleven herself says.
There's a man bagged and on his knees there. There's a gun. Nat's breathing heavily. She's relived this before, knowing the signs. It's not real. It's not real. The gunshot goes off, and Natasha knows what it means, but she turns to try and block the view from the other girl. She doesn't know her history obviously, but no little girl should be subjected to the horrors of this place.]
I'm sorry-- [She shouldn't have scene this.]