piratejournal | [Voice/Action to the Penguin]

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liz sherman

[Voice/Action to the Penguin]

[Upon the Penguin a young girl woke up. Liz Sherman is 11, long brownish hair, a scar on her forehead and swimming in her over sized clothing she woke up in. She spent all of 20 minutes pressed against a wall of the boat staring at sea for miles.]

[She was at sea.]

[HOW? Tucking herself down against the wall and beside a barrel, she shook, hearing people talk out of the little book she had in a pocket. carefully opening it, she wondered if this was a dream]

H-hello? Is anyone out there? I... I don’t think this is... where I should be.

I was at Project 66 foster care? I... I don’t remember leaving.

What’s going on? [she took a careful breath, trying to stay calm. She knew she had to stay calm.]

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[Now he feels bad, he shouldn't have brought it up. Hell, how freaked out would he have been at that age?]

I won't let them. I'm sorry.

Look, I'm like you, but smoke instead. I can turn into smoke. Want to see? I can make dog cloud out of my arm. Honest.

[She takes a few more breaths, then moves, trying to peek out from the barrels she hid between. carefully her reply simply was...]

Where... are you? [she'd come out and look for him then, if this was a safe place, and... and he knew her? Sorta.]

[And she was curious...]

Top deck, but I can come down below.

[she was moving from her spot anyhow, but keeping safe where she was too. Watchful.]

How'd you know where I am? [she said to her book, and if he did come down he'd find the dark haired girl standing there in a shirt way too long for her, hands clinched around the book, slightly orangish but not on fire. The journal was being warmed but not yet set on fire.]

[A clear sign she was still scared, but trying to control it.]

We're in the same crew, and that's where you always go.

[Smoker: Mr. Stalker -- or alternately obsessively observant for the sake of his job, but stalker is shorter.]

[Oh. Well, she supposed that made sense.]

[Maybe. Ug, that was creepy. Kind of.]

So... you pay attention to those things...

[She's out in plain sight now, staying below deck, but out where she can be seen. She's looking around, for the door, and for where he might come from. Clearly a bit calmer now.]

Always.

I just don't usually talk about them.

I can't remember Maribelle's birthdate for the life of me even though we just had a party for it last month, but I always notice how she takes her tea or little things I guess.

It's a habit from my job.

[she crouched down to sit on her heels, watching the door while holding the book in her hands.]

You... have a job? [That seemed weird. he sounded young. But--] R-right. This... isn't normal. [but she doesn't remember being older, and she doesn't remember being kidnapped, and... and it's confusing as hell.]

What... do you do. Besides smoke?

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