↻ Radio silence, Stranger Things

v. Princess Leia in the basement

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･05 PRINCESS LEIA IN THE BASEMENT

"So you're where?" Bronwyn's tone is muffled as she leans the phone against her shoulder, likely preoccupied with other tasks, most presumably folding the laundry. It wasn't unusual for her to adapt to the variety of household tasks that fell dutifully upon her shoulders— though it did drag her down after some time.

"Erm... Wheeler," Bailey speaks hurriedly down the landline, fearing that she might use up too much of the call time, and the phone would automatically shut off. Unbeknownst to her, the Wheeler family was entirely prompt at paying their bills, and it had been Karen's suggestion for Bailey to let her mother know where she was, so she didn't get worried sick. Bronwyn had been the only call Bailey could muster up making— well, the only one that would pick up. "Mike Wheeler, kid from school, erm... yeah. Brill. Fantastic. See you later then?" Bailey smiles, nodding over at Mrs Wheeler with a big thumbs up.

"I am not driving out there to pick you up," Bronwyn huffs. "The car doesn't have enough fuel for you to be selfish, you'll have to walk home."

"Oh, how terrible!" Bailey slaps her palm to her cheek in mock theatrics— carefully quiet enough to keep out of Mrs Wheeler's earshot— though she had heard a multitude of children conversing the recently developed act of door to door service— more precisely, having their parents drive them everywhere instead of making them walk. That was, of course, if they were allowed out of the house late at night, which many kids were forbidden to do, all considerations to the current circumstances. "You know I love a leisurely stroll," Bailey grins in the knowledge her words come at the expense of her sisters annoyance tolerance. "Stretch of the legs."

"Bailey, I'm serious," Bronwyn's voice comes through more clearly now, suggesting she's thrown the laundry down in exasperation, causing Bailey to chuckle to herself. "Come straight home afterwards, don't go on one of your usual wanders. And stay out of trouble! For goodness sake, as if your face has got any more room for those injuries!"

"Wonderful speaking with you," Bailey says formally, her voice teetering on the edge of her classic British impersonation, but not wanting to push her sister over the edge— Bailey liked to think wasn't solely maddening. "Yeah, wonderful chat, speak to you later, love you, bye!" She exaggerates her voice for the latter sentence, hoping Mrs Wheeler would overhear, diverting any concern she may have.

Bailey clumsily hangs up the phone, and runs a hand through her hair. She had made the decision to change back into her school clothes, as her jeans and t-shirt had much less grime residing on the cotton, though the cuffs of her sleeves still remained slightly damp. She had brushed her hair back into a plait, however it had already become loose due to the unskillful tying and Bailey's impulsive and quick movements. She had kindly been offered a shower, but she was apprehensive about using too much of their water, and the heat would only exacerbate her facial injuries.

    Dustin, Lucas and the Wheelers, bar Mrs Wheeler— whom of which was leaning against the kitchen counter awaiting Bailey's conversational denouement— were sat dutifully awaiting the start of their dinner. The boys and Bailey had prearranged a plan that Mike was sure to follow this time; each of them would leave a portion of their meals, Mike would clear the plates, but instead of scraping the remains into the bin, he would pile them onto a single plate, and manoeuvre it to the basement for El to eat. It was painfully simple, and it would be a skill to mess this plan up. But Bailey has a better idea.

     "Everything ok?" Mrs Wheeler smiles with concern as Bailey approaches. Bailey knows the kind natured woman can't help but long to nurture her wounds and clean her grazes, but the gesture is just too motherly, and Bailey would feel wrong to accept it.