exsilium | 2nd. ( video. )

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2nd. ( video. )

( The problem here was, so far as Ellie could see it, was that there were people. Too many people, a claustrophobic press of Transports jammed in so that she felt like she suddenly had some idea what it was like for cattle to be run through the crush. Whether or not they were all destined for an abattoir was another matter entirely.
Not just that, but they weren't the right people. Some of them seemed decent enough, but they weren't her human safety blanket or the guy that kept them all going, or the one that she could always feel superior to. (To be honest, it was a relief none of them were Lee.)

This might be why she is addressing the network from one of the bombed out buildings rather than her place, which she hasnt visited for a few days. Ellie's just surrounded by debris, dirt and water damaged walls, though some of the prior are concealed by some pretty massive piles of paper. She's propping herself up on her elbows, not looking right at the device. )

I was wondering what there is around here in the way of record keeping. I mean, these things have got a lot on them, but something other than that. Pens, paper - the tangible stuff. In case the network fails, or something.

There's probably already something, but I haven't had time to figure all that out yet. And maybe if there isn't, we should make one. Record the people who have been here, what they know, experiences and stuff. Not just stuff that happens here, but before. Or, um, elsewhere, I guess. Wherever home is.

( Despite this being a video broadcast, and deliberately so, she has to yet glanced at the camera. She does now, very briefly, but there is a definite guilty expression to it. Ellie opens her mouth again, but thinks better of it. )

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[Belatedly, Steph realizes how really fucking stupid that comment was, and she winces a little, something apologetic in her expression.

She's good at treading carefully around certain topics, but this is a new set of hot buttons to learn and she reminds herself to be more careful in the future. For now, she's just going to be relieved it didn't get a bad reaction, and smile a little for the continuation of the joke.]

You know I'm gonna start picking up things from you and everyone's gonna think I'm crazy.

[Aussie slang with an American accent would be rather weird.]

( Ellie gives a quick, lopsided grin, wrinkling her nose a little. Reassurance with a dash of amusement at that face Steph made. )

No worries. Those drongos'll are a few roos short in the top paddock. We'll make a true blue sheila out of you yet. Cockies like me, we're as Aussie at it gets.

( Enjoy )

[Steph's own smile warms up a bit, relieved again that Ellie isn't mad at her for the comment.

And then she just... stares at Ellie in silence for a few long moments, trying to parse out what she's been said to her.]

I think I got like half of that. I don't think the rest of even real words.

[Australia]

That's because you've been speaking the wrong language all your life. ( She leans back against the wall, crossing her arms. ) First lesson: drongo. Someone stupid, basically. There are birds called drongos, too, but it's got nothing to do with them. Apparently they're meant to be pretty smart, so you want a bird simile for someone who's being a bit of an idiot, maybe go for "galah." As in, "shut the Hell up, you're noisier than a pack of galahs."

( And she nods sagely, having imparted this great wisdom. )

[Another moment of silence after Ellie is finished explaining, and then Steph laughs, almost a giggle, because this is just so ridiculous after everything else that's happened today.]

Right, drongos and galahs. Should I be taking notes?

Fair dink, Steph, this is serious. You're gonna have to rattle your dags if you want to get anywhere.

( This is too much fun, really. She can't help the grin, not that she'd really try. )

I think there's something wrong with the universal translator.

[Clearly Ellie is speaking in some foreign language.

Maybe in tongues.

Steph should probably call a priest or something.]

( Right, it's all over, she's actually started laughing. Call a priest, definitely. Something terrible has happened. )

God, you're a dag.

That's an insult, isn't it?

[She's pretty sure it is, which is why she wraps an arm loosely around Ellie's shoulders and gives her a noogie. Because they're mature adults.]

It's cheating when I don't have anything I can really get you back on. Most American slang is so well known 'cause it's all over TV.

Fair go, it's a compliment. Really.

( Ah. She is used to this sort of treatment from Homer, though, which is generally a bit rougher. That would be why Steph is being exposed to retaliatory tickles. )

Yeah, why do you reckon we all get sick of your lot so easily?

You're full of shit.

[She knows, Ellie.

She sort of squirms away from the tickles, but keeps her arm around Ellie, turning the noogie into simply messing up her hair.

It's weird to do something like this, a normal teenagers-messing-around sort of thing.]

And yet you keep keep going to see movies full of Americans and tuning into our shows every night. Don't blame us for that.

Nu uh!

( What has even happened. It is futile to attempt escape, because that tickle attack has turned into more of a hopeless crash tackle. Because yes, Ellie, you can definitely take on a trained vigilant. Of course. There's no way she is going to a trickier target than Homer. )

'Cause your voices are so bloody piercing it's impossible to tune 'em out.

[Steph smirks, shifting her stance slightly and moving with the tackle, to... pretty much flip Ellie over and toss her onto the bed, loosely pinning her down. It's an easy position to get out of, if Ellie wants to.]

Are you saying my voice is piercing?

Maybe not "piercing."

( This really has not gone in her favour, but she just offers an infuriating grin, the one that always ticks the boys off the most, condescending school teacher to the brim. )

"Shrill" might might be better.

[As if something like that's going to work on Steph, she just smiles back, perfectly polite.]

Like you can talk. Your accent isn't much better.

But you do admit it's better.

( so smug. )

My accent is heaps good. Everyone loves Aussie accents. We're charming.

We only like them 'cause they're novel.

[She's just going to ruffle Ellie's hair one more time before getting off her, sitting beside her on the bed instead.]

I'm sure it'll stop being charming once I get used to it.

[NOT THAT IT'S CHARMING NOW.

(It is a little).]

Nah. You'll think you're over it, and then I'll yell at some poor moron for being a useless idiot and you'll swoon.

( propping herself up on her elbows, she watches Steph for a few moments. )

How have you been lately, anyway?

I don't swoon, thank you very much.

[She can't help rolling her eyes, but she also can't hide her smile.

At the question, she lifts a shoulder in a lazy shrug.]

Coping. [She doesn't want to say 'fine' because she's not, and even if she hadn't promised to be honest, she'd want to tell the truth anyway, instead of pretending.] I've been a little homesick, but I'll deal.

[It's not the longest she's been away from her friends and family, but the fact she can't</> go home just makes it so much harder.]

All blondes swoon. I saw it in the movies.

( As Steph speaks, Ellie stays quite still, just listening. Her gaze isn't trained on Steph, but she's chewing her lip, nodding a bit at her words. )

It's scary, isn't it? It's so huge. I don't know if I've really processed that I can't got home yet. It doesn't seem like it could be real.

You're in idiot.

[But she saws it fondly, and she'll leave the argument there in favour of the more serious topic of conversation.]

Yeah, it is. [Steph doesn't often admit to being scared, but she'll give Ellie that bit of honesty] All this stuff, time travel and alternate Earths, it doesn't happen to me. And I keep - I dunno, I keep waiting for someone to come get me out of here, but I don't think it's gonna happen.

[If Superman went missing, the Justice League would come find him. Batman would work out his own way home. Steph is just... stuck, and she can't keep waiting for Babs or Bruce to come get her out of this mess.]

Mmhmm.

( 'Scared' is like a forbidden bit of vocabulary among them, but it slips out before she can think of it. Maybe because she doesn't need to maintain the same position here that she has with the others.

When Steph says she's waiting for someone to get her, there's a spark of jealousy. Not of Steph having people to get her, but of her leaving, a brief panic that grips her right in the gut. She looks away, studying the ceiling, but gently grabs Steph's wrist. )

If they can get to you, they will. I mean, we can't just around rotting and waiting, but don't think they abandoned you r something.

[Her gaze is drawn to where Ellie is holding her wrist, and she pulls away briefly, but only to take her hand properly instead. It's a simple comfort, one that she's more used to than things like hugs, and it puts her in mind of her friends back in school, the easy little bits of affection they'd give her, when they knew she didn't like anything restricting.

She misses Bailey all of a sudden, which is ridiculous when Steph hasn't even seen her for months, so she pushes the thought aside.]

I know, it's just-- [It's just what? She pauses, and when she speaks again it's a quiet admission:] I miss my mom.

( Her fingers curl when Steph pulls away from her hand, briefly feeling stupid before she takes her hand instead. She relaxes again, thumb absently circling over Steph's skin. ) Me too.

( This doesn't get easier. ) Tell me about her.

[For a little while, Steph's silent, trying to work out what to say, how much she wants to tell Ellie about her mom. Should she focus on the good parts, or should she tell her everything, like Elli said was so important. It's the memory of that brief exchange of harsh words that helps her decide on the latter.

When she speaks, her voice is quiet, just loud enough to be heard, and she looks down at their entwined fingers instead of at Ellie.]

My dad used to be alright, you know? He had a steady job and he was an okay husband, if not really nice, but then he lost his job and he couldn't deal with it like a normal person, so he started stealing shit. He just got more and more unstable and violent, and mom just... she couldn't cope. So she started taking pills. I don't remember how it started, if she really was in pain and got addicted, or if she just found an easy way out, but she'd get a doctor to write a prescription for the strongest painkiller she could get, and whenever she wasn't at work, she'd check out. [There's something bitter in her voice as she explains that, the anger of a little girl who watched her mother do nothing as her father abused her.]

Even when dad tried to straighten up his act, even if he tried to get her clean, it never worked, and she just got worse and worse. It wasn't until I took up the whole vigilante gig and finally put dad away for good that she managed to kick the habit.

[She sighs, a heavy sort of thing, and curls up against Ellie a little.] She always knew what I was doing, but she never really supported it. I can't blame her, I mean, she'd seen what a costume had done to dad, she knew what it was like out there, and I was her little girl. She'd finally managed to be a part of her daughter's life, so she was scared she'd lose me again, but I couldn't stop, and I think she just resigned herself to it.

[There's another pause, as she realizes how much she's said already, and isn't sure if she should keep saying more. It's a long story and she doesn't want to get into too many details.]

Things haven't ever been easy, but... she loves me. And before I came here, she found out that I'd started the whole vigilante thing again, after I promised I'd stop. I thought she'd be so angry, but she just said she was proud of me. [Now she has to stop, because her voice is a little tight and she takes a second to blink away the tears that are threatening.]

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TW: drug use, child abuse