versusnurture | eighth ♢ private + spam

private/video, backdated to shortly after white flag } megamind

[She takes care in her appearance, in a convoluted way, making sure she's dissheveled and exhausted-looking, hands wrapped tight around her upper arms like she's cold. In truth, and unfortunately, she doesn't have to do much work at all, just wrap her scarf securely around her neck and check herself in the mirror before cutting on the feed.]

[She's just naturally exhausted-looking, these days. The tentativeness is all fake, though.]

Hi. Um. I know we don't really know each other. But I was wondering if I could ask for a favor.

spam, tuesday night } elena

[Hannibal's hunt week frayed her nerves. The other Barge pulls a few stray ends out. But Abigail will realize later that the last straw was when she had to be sweet to him. Not that there wouldn't have been some other last straw - this just happened to be it. This is how it played out.]

[She knocks on Elena's door while shoving her scarf into her pants pocket. There's no way the other girl can't hear her heart hammering, she thinks, and tries to calm herself down for about five seconds before giving it up.]

spam, wednesday morning } ryan

[It's important, when hunting, to step quiet, to breathe calm. She was afraid before but she isn't afraid now. She's done this before. Kind of.]

[Besides, she isn't even sure he'll be here. The CES is a good bet, yes, but there are plenty of days when you go out looking and get nothing at all for your trouble.]

[If Ryan is here, or anyone else on the vague, short list she's got tucked away in the angriest, most vicious part of her hindbrain, nothing about her will change once she sees him. Not right away, anyway.]

[There's a dagger tucked into the back of her belt, under the bulky knit of her long sweater, a taser tucked up her sleeve ready to drop into her hand. She will wait until he reaches the edge of the woods, because that's where he is going to have to die. Between the open and the enclosed. Where he could run, if he was really looking at her face.]

spam, thursday morning } nathan

[And now she's nervous.]

[Which is not surprising. What is surprising is that she's not sorry. Not yet. She knows she'll be caught, she knew that from the beginning, but regret hasn't surfaced yet. This worries her. If she isn't sorry, how will she know she's separate from what she was trained to be? How will she know she's her own precise kind of monster?]

[She thought she might throw up after Ryan. She didn't. She just washed her hands and the blade and hid the dagger under the mattress. Business as usual, despite the fact that she knows Ben will find it as soon as he steps in there, despite the fact that she can't reuse that weapon. But he made her another one.]

[She hasn't inserted herself into the investigation, such as there's been so far. She is returning to the scene of the crime. This is, however, mostly because she wants a walk.]

[That said: as she walks, she's armed. Her hands are steady. She's nervous, but not sorry. Definitely not afraid.]

Threaded | Flat

Oh, ah, ollo?

[ The hero in him sees a young woman in need; immediately, Megamind is solicitous and concerned. He has a a soft spot for young inmates. ]

No, I can't say we've met. I'm Megamind. Are you-- alright?

[Elena can hear Abigail's footsteps as they come down the hallway, recognizing the gait and particular weight in each footfall as distinctly Abigail. She's up off her bed and at the door in a blur, but when Abigail gets closer and she can hear her heartbeat, she stops short of opening the door.]

[The thought of pretending she isn't in her room crosses Elena's mind. It wouldn't be that hard and it isn't like Abigail is going to barge right in. (Even if she did, Elena's confident she'd be fast enough to leave without Abigail knowing she was ever there.) But there's something inherently wrong about turning her away right now that Elena can't put her finger on.]

[So she opens the door, but not quite wide enough for Abigail to come in.]

What's wrong?

[One of the annoying things about the Barge is it didn't let him keep his treadmill. One of the few doctor's orders Ryan's ever listens to is strengthening his heart with exercise.]

[Okay maybe CES is better than a treadmill. Maybe. Anyway, it's not a very strenuous run, nothing his pacemaker can't keep up with. It is designed to keep up with a moderate amount of exercise. He still needs to rest more than the average person. Which he's doing now, slowing down near a clump of trees. He leans a hand on one as he tries to control his heartbeat.]

[ Working here, in the heavy hang of perfume mostly gone to the chemicals left once stripped of anything pretty, makes Nathan a little light-headed. Not enough to pose any real danger, but that cloying scent is also all he can taste.

He's angry. It's calm, the kind he pushes through and makes an asset, not boiling to the point that blots out all else, but--still. People keep dying. Maybe that's just something he's supposed to take for granted on the Barge, just supposed to accept, but he doesn't really have that in him. If this were a different set of circumstances, with rules and a legal system and an authority higher in the department than Nathan himself, he wouldn't be allowed to work this case. Or at the very least, someone would be watching him. He's too close, not objective enough.

But that's his prerogative and there's no one to check him, so here he is, digital camera snapping away from every angle. The photos will be printed out and tacked to the ~~murderboard~~ easel in his office festooned with notes, what evidence there is, the still-unsolved arson-homicide its twin. Like very upsetting flipbooks. ]

Edited 2013-11-20 11:11 (UTC)

[ Steph found that as time passed and her wounds healed (the last stitches come out tomorrow morning!) she was more and more restless. This meant, sadly, leaving the relative comfort and safety of her room. However it also meant that people saw her up and about and maybe stopped worrying after her all the time. She was just sort of walking through the halls when she came across the girl. ]

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