Abigail Hobbs (
versusnurture) wrote2013-09-04 09:21 pm
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Entry tags:
- ] ( i was the lure ),
- bait even now,
- being dead sucks,
- ben & the blue lady,
- ben might be a problem,
- better not to be famous,
- couldn't protect me in this life,
- dissociation for unfun & notprofit,
- hannibal bannanibal is watching,
- it's people,
- the broken face,
- the liar's face,
- the nice face,
- what am i now?,
- who cares i'm dead
fourth ♢ spam
[Abigail knows, now, that it's only a matter of time. He's been allowed into the kitchen. He won't show his true face, but one way or another, he'll start working on people. Ripping them apart, one way or another. Making them see too much of themselves until they eat themselves up from the inside, or worse. And she doesn't know, even now, if she wants to help him or if she wants to run.]
[She's tired of being prey, tired of being helpless, tired of being alone and crazy, and most of all she doesn't want people to know - so why has she been telling them? Why did she tell Arkin, why did she let Zane find out? Why is Ben, who has power, letting this happen?]
[She is afraid, so she ties a bright blue scarf around her neck and makes deliberate appearances in several common rooms, the cafeteria, the greenhouse, and the library, a copy of Jane Eyre tucked under her arm. She's quiet when it's appropriate, polite or even chatty when someone approaches her. But there's something not quite right about the set of her smile, to those who know her very well or look very closely, and her heart beats like a rabbit's every time she sees someone new.]
for ben } thursday
[After Riddick finds her, Abigail thinks about the situation for a while. No, she doesn't trust Ben. She doesn't really trust anyone. But Riddick had at least one point: he seems to have decent motives. He seems to care. And maybe that means she's going about this all wrong. Maybe he's more Will than Hannibal. Or like Alana, even: smart and capable but with a part of him that can't see through what Abigail holds on the outside.]
[He has trouble, she knows, with touch. But he's sweet anyway. He cares.]
[She waits for him outside the kitchen, when his shift is over, hands twisting in the hem of her shirt, eyes on the floor.]
[She's tired of being prey, tired of being helpless, tired of being alone and crazy, and most of all she doesn't want people to know - so why has she been telling them? Why did she tell Arkin, why did she let Zane find out? Why is Ben, who has power, letting this happen?]
[She is afraid, so she ties a bright blue scarf around her neck and makes deliberate appearances in several common rooms, the cafeteria, the greenhouse, and the library, a copy of Jane Eyre tucked under her arm. She's quiet when it's appropriate, polite or even chatty when someone approaches her. But there's something not quite right about the set of her smile, to those who know her very well or look very closely, and her heart beats like a rabbit's every time she sees someone new.]
for ben } thursday
[After Riddick finds her, Abigail thinks about the situation for a while. No, she doesn't trust Ben. She doesn't really trust anyone. But Riddick had at least one point: he seems to have decent motives. He seems to care. And maybe that means she's going about this all wrong. Maybe he's more Will than Hannibal. Or like Alana, even: smart and capable but with a part of him that can't see through what Abigail holds on the outside.]
[He has trouble, she knows, with touch. But he's sweet anyway. He cares.]
[She waits for him outside the kitchen, when his shift is over, hands twisting in the hem of her shirt, eyes on the floor.]
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Is that all?
[She reaches up and wipes the blood off her neck, then looks at her fingers critically.]
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Mmhm. Wasn't so bad, was it?
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[Tilting her head, she watches the change.]
Does that hurt? When you shift like that?
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Doesn't take much thought to do it and sometimes it's uncontrollable and hard to stop.
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You seemed like you were in control just now.
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[She also hasn't exactly had vervain shoved in her face either. But Abigail doesn't get to know Elena's weaknesses.]
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[No please, tell her more. She rests her hands on Elena's legs, craning her neck up to watch her curiously.]
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[Elena begins brushing Abigail's hair back and pulling it up into a messy bun.]
Waiting a hundred and forty-five years for a woman who didn't want him and in the meantime either needs a woman to be compelled to want to sleep with him or be sired to him like I was.
[She cants her head as she holds the bun with one of her hands.]
You know, you shouldn't hide that pretty face of yours behind all this hair.
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[She pauses, holding very still so that Elena can do as she likes with her hair. It's been a long time since she did much of anything with it. It feels nice.]
Why did you like them? You're stronger than that.
[There's something wary in her eyes, something uncertain.]
You do it. [Elena's pretty face and her pretty hair. Whether it's flattery or not, hard to tell.]
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People aren't born strong, Abigail. [She moves and stands behind Abigail's chair and starts brushing her hair before she starts on the bun.] You become strong after people are done taking things from you.
I was weak, so I lost my heart, my life, and my free will. But then I got strong. And I took them all back. Now no one will ever take them from me again.
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[She leans back into Elena's hands.]
So how'd you do it?
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[She starts pinning Abigail's hair in place.]
So, I can do whatever I want without any of the consequences. No fear, no guilt, no pain.
[Elena pulls a few strands loose for a messier bun. Abigail doesn't need to look like an uptight librarian.]
Just pleasure and fun. It's like the high that never ends.
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[She glances over her shoulder without moving her head, which has basically zero effect.]
Is it worth it even here?
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It's not as fun here as it would be back home. There's way less to do.
[She leans down and points over to the mirror and smiles.]
But that doesn't mean I can't find things to appreciate.
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It . . . looks nice.
[She looks nice. Now she cranes her neck and looks at Elena.]
You don't have to be kind to me. We made a deal. I'll honor it.
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[Elena straightens and walks over to the dresser to put the brush back.]
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Thanks. For the . . . [She gestures to the bun.]
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No problem. Been a while since I was able to do that for anyone. Guess I was starting to feel nostalgic.