[Midii appears to be standing perfectly still in the hangar. Staring. Her expression betrays nothing, though it is clear that the object in question has her full, unwavering attention.]
[What is she staring at, you might ask?]
[...a gold limo. Specifically, Dorothy Catelonia's gold limo. The one she bequeathed to Midii. For some reason.]
[Understandably, the young girl is highly suspicious. She stares down the hood as if it could stare back, trying to discern the potential dangers. Her eyes narrow.]
[She takes a step forward.]
[Almost that exact moment, the car horn suddenly gives a loud beep]
[Startled, she jumps back about a foot, letting out a small shriek of surprise. Giving the vehicle one last wide-eyed expression, she turns to walk away. Swiftly.]
[The floor might be lava, but at the moment, there's a lovely river of molten rocks flowing down the hallway.]
[And, adopt a makeshift raft of what appears to be a fireproof sofa cushion, we see Midii. Floating on by.]
[She is sitting cross-legged, her jacket tied around her waist due to the heat. One hand supporting her head. Looking more inconvenienced than frightened or worried.]
...you know, sometimes I really, really hate this place.
[Once again, there is a cute 10-year-old appearing in your screen.]
[But there's something different about her this time: she's not in trouble. Or causing trouble. Or any of those usual things that require somebody to come after her in some way. Nope. She seems perfectly safe, in fact, sitting cross-legged on her bed. In her room. With the occasional meowing going on the background]
[Granted, she's still not really smiling much...but baby steps, people. Baby steps.]
Has anybody else been having difficulty with their Guides lately?
Mine...the last few days, it's been weird. Even more than usual. The screen....it's super bright, I'm having a hard time trying to contact people or do pretty much anything on here...
...and I get this feeling it's just...I don't know...laughing at me. Does that even make sense? Then again, when does this place ever make sense?
[She frowns at herself for a moment, then continues.]
I haven't miss a Drive Event recently, have I?
[Aaand here's Superboy all up your screen. He seems to be walking with some mail under his arm- seeing as he's a mail carrier, that shouldn't be surprising.]
Uh.. so I tried to put it off but it's kind of getting hard to live with a broken window.
Does anybody know where to get good- Oh, sorry- good tools to repay it or something...
[Wait. Something's wrong in this picture.
Supey bumped into Midii as he talked, which again shouldn't be that surprising... if it weren't for a certain event going on in this funny little ship.
They tug on each other's arms, obviously not being able to pull away.
They stare at each other. And stare. And stare.
Uh... I'm Superboy, nice to meet you?
Yeah, have some more silence.
After a few minutes they just kind of stare at the guide together. Their expression says it all:
[A loud crash is head just as the camera flickers on.]
[The angle is awkward, as if the Guide had fallen to the ground, but one could just barely make out a still figure in the dim lighting. It's Midii, fast asleep, curled into a tiny ball. Her face is red, eyes puffy, and there are dried tear trails on both cheeks. Clothing and shoes still on. Like she had been crying and fell asleep out of pure exhaustion.]
[Next to her, on the bed, is a violin, her tiny hands clutched around the neck]
[She hiccups the name softly in her sleep, and suddenly her current state is made clear: she found out about her surrogate brother's departure from the ship.]
[Just as she begins to stir, the Guide topples onto its back, shutting itself off]
((ooc: ...yeah, this month hasn't exactly been kind to poor Midii. Action! if you're one of the few close enough to actually come into her room to talk, or Video!. The latter will have to wait until she wakes up to respond, though.))
[The screen turns on, slightly unfocused. As the image clears, we see a a slightly flushed Midii looking into the camera. She looks unusually expressive--in this case, torn between incredibly nervous and bursting into a fit of giggles at any given moment.]
[When she speaks, her (usually) light French accent has thickened. Noticeably so.]
Does any--*hic*--one know what ze put in ze water? Mon Dieu, it tastes sange...strage...sta--
[And the laughter comes as she leans back against the wall, unable to finish her sentence.]
((ooc: Drunk 10-year-old. Enjoy. Or freak out. Whichever, really.))