twenty-three ♢ spam & video

[versusnurture]

spam } everywhere!

[When Abigail wakes up, she isn't afraid. She isn't even concerned. She knows that this isn't the room she's used to, but she knows, too, that it's sort of hers and she has a right to it. So she springs out of bed, inspects it from top to bottom, and then heads out to explore the Barge.]

[There's a confidence in her that might surprise those who know her well as an adult. She investigates everything as if it belongs to her, spending a while on the deck looking at the stars and (loudly, incorrectly) identifying constellations. When she's done there, she curls up in the library with a stack of books almost taller than her, some on space (since that seems to be today's theme), some on anatomy, and some science fiction books, because that's basically the same as space.]

[In the end she gravitates towards the kitchens, where she inexplicably feels the most comfortable. She stays through lunch shift and well into the afternoon, investigating, tidying, wiping down surfaces.]

[Soon enough, she has a question.]

voice

I've been paying attention to the kitchens, [she says in a lofty voice, commanding attention in the way that only children often do.] And I need to know something.

Where does the food come from? It has to come from somewhere.

private } admiral

Excuse me, Admiral. I need to know where the food in the kitchens comes from, please.


( ooc; replies will come from naturalizing! )

Comments

[broughtapplejuice]

[Philip had taken a break from pelting snowballs at everyone. There aren't really any grown-ups around that are telling him what to do like his parents would, so he gets to decide when he wants to eat and when he doesn't, thank you very much. But he does stop long enough to get something in his belly before he's racing back up to the deck.]

[That's when he finds Abigail staring up at the stars. Frankly, he's not a fan of the stars. Looking into space is cool and everything, but. Well, it's also a little scary, too. So, he's not interested in spending a lot of time staring at it.]

[For a moment, he chooses to ignore her and goes behind his fort. He makes sure all of his ammunition is still accounted for first. Nobody seems to have touched anything. He looks back over at Abigail, grinning crookedly before hurling a snowball in her direction.]

[naturalizing]

[She hadn't really registered the snow fort. She doesn't like snow much, so she's choosing to ignore it.]

[But it's really hard to ignore a snowball thrown right at the back of your neck. She yelps and whirls to look at the offending snowball tosser, scrabbling at her neck to get the icy stuff away from her skin.]

Hey! Cut that out!

[broughtapplejuice]

I don't know what you're talking about.

[Although that shit-eating grin would suggest otherwise. Especially as he's bending down to grab another one.]

[naturalizing]

Yes you do! Stop lying!

[She huffs, and, with a typical if-you-can't-beat-'em-join-'em attitude, bends down and starts making her own snowball.]

[It begins.]

[broughtapplejuice]

[While she's making her own, he's already chucking his next one at her with a peal of laughter. He isn't even going to defend himself about lying, okay.]

[Bring it.]

[naturalizing]

[It hits her on the top of the head as she's straightening up, but after she shakes her eyes free of snow, she tosses hers square at his nose. She already knows how to hunt, and she's a good shot.]

[broughtapplejuice]

[She is a very good shot. Which is incredibly unfortunate for Philip because although he tries really hard to not get hit, it still manages to hit him square in the forehead and he has to duck behind his fort to start brushing the snow out of his eyes and hair quickly.]

[naturalizing]

[She laughs victoriously and builds up another snowball as quick as she can, launching it sort of fruitlessly over the edge of his fort.]

[broughtapplejuice]

[That one is not as effective, but it does land really close to his foot. This time he barely peeks over the edge of the fort to launch the next snowball at least in Abigail's general direction. There is probably a very good chance to avoid it.]

[naturalizing]

[She dodges, falling behind a bank and scooping up increasingly loose and sloppy snowballs with both hands, flinging them over the bank at him willy-nilly.]

[broughtapplejuice]

[Her snowballs are kinda shit-tier and she's not being that accurate, but she does land a few hits while he's hunkered down behind his fort. Every once in a while, there's a yelp when some of the snow manages to get under his jacket, but otherwise he returns fire with his premade snowballs.]

[He'll never surrender!!!]

[naturalizing]

[By this point he's hitting her more often than she's hitting him, and there's snow in her hair and she's shivering and kind of miserable, but. BUT. She also will never surrender!!!]

[Her fingers are really cold, though, so maybe she'll surrender. In a minute. Maybe.]

[broughtapplejuice]

[When there's a pause in some of her snowballs, he also pauses and calls to her:]

You can give up, you know!

[naturalizing]

[NO SHE'S FINE. IT'S FINE. SHE'S FINE. She tosses another snowball over his barricade.]

Never!

[broughtapplejuice]

[Whoa that one almost hits him, but he manages to scoot out of the way just in time.]

Suit yourself!

[Have another snowball then!!!]

[naturalizing]

[. . . OKAY MAYBE NOW. The snowball hits her in the arm and she falls down dramatically, waving her hand out of the snowdrift.]

Okay! Okay! I surrender!

[broughtapplejuice]

[Philip peers over his fort with a wide grin. He's a little cautious at first in case this is just a trick.]

Ha! I knew I'd win!