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[video] un: eleven

[ The video clicks on to a young girl, perhaps 14 years. Her round eyes look a little unsure, brows drawn together in concentration as she figures out how to work this new tablet machine with the stupid name - it's not liquid. She's learned how to operate the application tools back in Beacon, so it's a transition rather than a completely new skill.

Eleven sits cross legged on her bed, half cast in the light of the strange lantern sitting right next to her. She sets the Fluid down on the nightstand, then briefly leans out of frame and picks something up that looks like a beak shaped, half plague doctor mask, distractedly scratching at her neck, where healed scars looks as though something once grabbed her by the neck. Finally, she stops fidgeting and looks at the camera. ]

Hi.

[ She speaks with a pattern that might strike as odd. Sometimes halting in odd places, or saying words slowly, as if she has to place them on her tongue very deliberately. ]

Is there an angel? Here? I need a... miracle. Or maybe. Someone old, with magic?

[ She glances down at the mask, worries her lower lip between her teeth, then adds: ]

There's something in here. It smells like... where I'm from. Home. It's fading. I lost my friend who did the... miracle. So it's fading. But it's important. [ She swallows, lips pursed. ] To me.

[ The things unsaid sit deep in her chest and ache - the home she lost months ago. The friends she lost along the way. A short, deep breath, she gathers herself, serious face relaxing into something softer, but still somber. ]

I can pay. With glitter pens. Or birds, if you have paper.

[Another small pause. She's about to reach out and shut the video off, when she remembers lessons learned. Right - manners. Or the attempt at them. ]

Thanks.

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[Apparently the whole "video chat while you're in the same damn house" thing is common, because Will is literally downstairs. Then again, he's got a fuzzy friend sitting on his chest and preventing him from moving, so there's an excuse.]

You brought magic things? From, uh -- the other place? [He didn't get a ton of details, there were dinosaurs and whatnot.] I'm sure someone can help. [A beat.] Just -- ask me or Mike if they're one of the good guys first. Okay? A lot of people here are, but some aren't.

[His grim tone is interrupted by the little dog creeping it's way into the frame and licking his nose, getting a loud, startled sputter.]

[ The first part of Will's message has Eleven tilting the Fluid, trying to catch sight of the dog. There are pets here, and it intrigues here - no animals were alive in Beacon, and she's only ever killed animals, not befriended them.

Maybe Will will let see the dog.

When Will sputters, Eleven laughs, a small but light sound. ]

Who are the bad guys here?

Uhhhh, well, there's the Mayor. [Will sets the fluid up against one of the couch cushions so he can scoop up the little dog and keep it from licking his nose more.] He's the biggest one. He's Sodder's dad -- Sodder, Julia, she's the one who brought us here -- and he's a jerk. And I guess...anyone who'd, um. Want you to use your powers to do stuff for them.

[He has a couple people in mind, specifically, but he doesn't want to freak Eleven out. Besides, she can definitely handle herself.] But there's lots of good people too. Like Shiro, he's a good guy. He's a lot like Hop.

[Will would probably die before he called Hopper "Hop" to his face, but it's one of those things you pick up -- that's what Joyce always called him.]

[ Fathers are difficult - even the ones who aren't actually your father. Eleven's mind goes to Papa immediately, and there's a small shudder in her narrow shoulders.

The Mayor is a bad guy.

Shiro is good.

The mention of Hop makes her smile - she misses him. Eleven never got to tell him that he's... not her father, but her Dad. Maybe one day. ]

Do you know if Eda and Michael are good? Eda wants a glitter pen for magic. Trade, like I offered. Michael is a demon. But he says he's good.

[Will recalls, vaguely, that he's never mentioned his father to Eleven. She's met his mom -- Joyce, the standard to which all other parental figures are held -- but his dad was never in the picture. For the best, really.

That gets a thoughtful hum.] I don't know Eda, but if she's willing to trade, that's good. Michael's nice. Not every demon is bad here. Just -- different.

Different isn't bad.

[ And it's in the way Eleven looks at Will - for all that she has learned so much, her mind works in simple, direct ways sometimes. So if Will tells her something, he will make it a life lesson and commit herself to it, not ever thinking to doubt him.

Friends don't lie.

Different isn't bad. ]

Thank you, Will.

[Will nods emphatically, relieved that this, at least, is something he can convince her of. Even if he doesn't always believe it himself.] Yeah. I mean, we're different -- all of us from Hawkins? Most kids don't...fight monsters and stuff.

But we aren't bad.

[ The thought is unfamiliar in a way - Eleven knows she is not normal, but... it has not occured, not quite, that the same holds true for her friends in Hawkins. For the party.

They're not like her. But they're not like everyone else, either. Sometimes it's easy to forget. Except with Will, perhaps, who feels some things as keenly as she does, in his heart and in his bones and in his head. ]

No. We're not bad. We're... pretty good?

[That gets a brief, brilliant grin, crooked with the new scar and everything.] I mean, I think so. Right, Frodo?

[The little dog wags his floofy tail, then abruptly leaps off Will's chest and scurries off somewhere. Will listens for a moment, then:] He's comin' to find you. If you call for him, he'll go right to you. He's nice, promise.

[ They're all so differet here, Will with a scar and Mike with a crooked nose and missing fingers. Eleven with the scars on her neck and her lantern.

Different isn't bad, though.

Her eyes go wide when Will explains about Frodo, but then she scurries to abandon the Fluid in favour of rushing to her room's door. Off camera there's the sound of the door opening, and then tentatively: ]

.... Frodo?

[ The sound of small scuffling paws is soon followed by a rush of steps as Eleven rushes back over to where she'd set the Fluid on the nightstand, eyes wide as she crouches on the floor, bottom of the frame filling with overexcited fur. ]

What... What do I do? Will?

[Will stifles a laugh, rolling off the couch and straightening up the pillows, because he's a polite boy.] Just hold out your hand flat so he can sniff it. That's how he gets to know people. Then you can pet him -- I promise he doesn't bite.

[He starts to head upstairs as well, not because he's worried they won't like each other, but because he wants to see the Actual Pure Cuteness with his own eyes.]

[ As Will reaches the upper landing, he will see Eleven on the floor of her room, through the open door, where she kneels with her hand outstretched and stiff, and overexcited dog sniffing every last inch of her palm. There's also the soft sound of Eleven's voice, quiet and hesitant. ]

Hi. Frodo.

...

I'm Eleven. I'm. A friend. I promise.

[ And then she carefully lowers her hand into his fur, and curls her fingers inward, eyes going wide when the dog immediately rolls onto the carpet. ]

[Will stifles a laugh, hesitating at the doorway for a moment -- because it's a girl's room, and he's a teenage boy, albeit a very mature one -- before entering carefully and crouching down on the floor as well. Frodo is rolling around on his back, tongue lolling out, little paws waving in the air.]

That's a good thing. It means he likes you. Dogs can't protect themselves on their backs as well, so when they roll over, it means they trust you not to hurt them. [Can't help info-dumping, regardless of the circumstances.] You can pet him. His stomach's super soft.

[ Eleven looks down at Frodo with the sort of doubt only someone entirely unused to pets can have.

But she trusts Will, unconditionally so. And because of that, she slowly lowers her hand until her fingertips touch a soft dog belly. With a small gasp, Eleven pulls back, but then immediately reaches out again, emboldened by Frodo's delighted squirming. ]

You were right! He is. Super soft!

[ And just like that, she is petting a dog - or well. She is awkwardly, and stiffly, going through motions that one day might develop into petting.

Baby steps and all that.

She beams at Will, though, as if he's shown her one of life's big secrets. ]

[Will has to grin back, big and goofy, like he so rarely does. Usually his joy is more contained, softer, less in everyone's face. But her delight is contagious, as is that of the little dog squirming around and waving his paws in the air, trying to simultaneously get more belly rubs and lick El's hand.]

See? He likes you. He knows you're -- [He almost says "family", recovers quickly.] -- a friend.

[ Eleven missed that near-slip - not that she would have minded, of course. They're all her friends. They're all hers. ]

I'm glad. There was a... a spirit, in Beacon. Like a dog. It wasn't... I like Frodo better.

[ She giggles when Frodo tries to squirm his way into impossible impulses, and offers him her second hand - spontaneously wrinkling her nose when she catches on to what Frodo is doing.

Yeah that hand is getting wiped on Will's shirt, but Eleven just goes back to petting Frodo happily. ]

More friends is good.

A spirit? [Beacon sounds like it sucked and that's not making it any better, if the only dog was a ghost-dog.] There are the dogkeepers dogs here, but there are other kinds too. And cats, but sometimes they're the police.

I've got a hedgehog, too. [He wrinkles his nose at the spitty hand, but breaks into a laugh almost immediately.] Have you ever seen one of those?

[ Eleven blinks slowly at that, confused and lost. But then she just moves past the things about that sentence that, to her, make no sense. Instead she shakes her head. ]

I only know hedges.

[Honestly, she's right and valid for ignoring all that. Will shakes his head, then reaches inside the pocket of his sweatshirt and just.

Pulls out a hedgehog.] This is Pippin. Dustin got him for me, for last Christmas. [Helpfully:] He's alive, but he's not a dog.

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[video] un: eleven

video; un: willthewise

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