Abigail Hobbs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
versusnurture) wrote2014-01-02 07:38 pm
versusnurture) wrote2014-01-02 07:38 pm
Entry tags:
- & i want & i want & i want,
- & sometimes she doesn't lose time,
- ] or did you hunt,
- a hundred motherfuckers,
- always the possibility of murder later,
- ben & the blue lady,
- ben is hers now,
- can't tell me nothing,
- full-on straightjacket-&-chains loses,
- hannibal bannanibal is watching,
- here are my scars,
- i have been very wicked,
- i have seen sights & been scared,
- i hope i shall be better,
- i will speak the truth,
- oh god alana,
- shoot him every minute of his life,
- thank you dillon,
- the brave face
eleven ♢ spam, private + open
spam } open
[The mask is secured in her room before she goes anywhere. She goes back to check on it frequently, bordering on obsessively, straightening it in its place of pride hung above her desk. She wonders what it's like to live life, day in, day out, in a few square feet, never allowed to breathe free air but through that grille. It's so much easier to imagine through Hannibal's eyes than Will's. She never imagined it would be.]
[She knew there was another man here who went by his name, but he never seemed real. Now - even though this artifact was never his - now it feels like a real, possible future.]
[What she doesn't do is lose time. She walks with even breath and utter confidence, anywhere and everywhere, feeling the simple joy of movement. She is afraid of nothing. She looks people in the eye, even if only for fleeting moments as she passes, and she doesn't even consider pulling a scarf on over the scar on her neck.]
spam } alana
[There's no way Alana doesn't have questions. Abigail doesn't feel obliged to protect many people, but Alana - she's been lied to all this time. Longer than Abigail was lied to. Hannibal was a colleague. And now . . .]
[There are probably worse ways to find out, but Abigail can't think of any. Besides death at his hands, anyway.]
[After a silent struggle with her conscience, she grabs the keys to Alana's room and hurries there, letting herself in before she can change her mind.]
spam } ben
[Eventually, she finds herself in the chapel. She has no question that Ben knows what's happened, or at least that something's happened. There was that brief moment of breathlessness, open for all to see on the network, and he'll have seen that even if he didn't watch her go with Dillon later.]
[She sits cross-legged in the pew and looks clear-eyed at the opposite wall. After quite a while - an hour, she thinks, maybe a little bit more - she sends him a message.]
Need your help with something. Not an emergency. You can walk.
[Then she turns the communicator off, lays it beside her, and waits.]
[The mask is secured in her room before she goes anywhere. She goes back to check on it frequently, bordering on obsessively, straightening it in its place of pride hung above her desk. She wonders what it's like to live life, day in, day out, in a few square feet, never allowed to breathe free air but through that grille. It's so much easier to imagine through Hannibal's eyes than Will's. She never imagined it would be.]
[She knew there was another man here who went by his name, but he never seemed real. Now - even though this artifact was never his - now it feels like a real, possible future.]
[What she doesn't do is lose time. She walks with even breath and utter confidence, anywhere and everywhere, feeling the simple joy of movement. She is afraid of nothing. She looks people in the eye, even if only for fleeting moments as she passes, and she doesn't even consider pulling a scarf on over the scar on her neck.]
spam } alana
[There's no way Alana doesn't have questions. Abigail doesn't feel obliged to protect many people, but Alana - she's been lied to all this time. Longer than Abigail was lied to. Hannibal was a colleague. And now . . .]
[There are probably worse ways to find out, but Abigail can't think of any. Besides death at his hands, anyway.]
[After a silent struggle with her conscience, she grabs the keys to Alana's room and hurries there, letting herself in before she can change her mind.]
spam } ben
[Eventually, she finds herself in the chapel. She has no question that Ben knows what's happened, or at least that something's happened. There was that brief moment of breathlessness, open for all to see on the network, and he'll have seen that even if he didn't watch her go with Dillon later.]
[She sits cross-legged in the pew and looks clear-eyed at the opposite wall. After quite a while - an hour, she thinks, maybe a little bit more - she sends him a message.]
Need your help with something. Not an emergency. You can walk.
[Then she turns the communicator off, lays it beside her, and waits.]
no subject
[Abigail is never mild; her version of mild is only a very small knife, hidden under many layers. That's what this statement is precisely. She knows the compulsion to understand - knows it intimately. But she also knows that what she knows of it is a commonality with Hannibal, and that disconcerts her.]
[Elvis's nose is wet. She rubs the long stripe of short fur that leads between his eyes and loses herself in him for a moment. But it's impossible not to smile at the mention of Ben.]
Don't make him anything. [She speaks as if from far away, her eyes half-closed.] Stained glass can just be . . . an end product.
He must love you very much.
no subject
[There are some passengers - Touko, Alpha, Harvey (at least before the mirror flood) - that Iris would have pushed back. It's not because she doesn't think Abigail could take it, not because she distrusts Chromie or Ned or the Boy; it's that Abigail is so much harder to see that she doesn't trust herself not to misstep.]
Ben? I don't know about that. I loved 'is brother when Zack were 'ere and that 'elped. It's taken us a while to 'it the right wavelength with each other, Ben and me. I think I could call us friends now.
no subject
[Which is all she really wants to say about that. She doesn't know how much Iris knows about Ben, about why he flinches and twitches and buzzes in the chapel, about what makes him fragile and what makes him dangerous. She just knows that Ben loves her and trusts her. All the evidence points to this conclusion.]
[She straightens up from attending to the dogs.]
Tell me why you think I'm interesting. I know you want to ask me things. Tell me and ask.
no subject
[She's grinning broadly now, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.]
Specific questions? I don't know. I just. I see a new butterfly 'atch and I want to get close, to read all the patterns on 'er wings. All the stories. Some let me close, some don't. You can't force it. You just sit and 'ope they land on you. Am I making sense, 'ere?
no subject
[She purses her lips.]
Someones. And I'm not smiling. Not right now. [Just to be an ass. But it's hard to be wholly sour in the face of Iris's viral enthusiasm.]
It makes sense. You're attracted to movement, like a predator. Movement and sound - sensory stimuli.
no subject
[She says it with a smile; Iris doesn't take this as a good or a bad thing, but it is a thing. It pleases her that Abigail's one of the ones that spots it.]
Riddick said the same thing. Takes one to know one.
[Or perhaps a prey animal. Humans are wired to be both, in a way Iris isn't; she wonders which side of that divide Abigail feels closest to, these days.]
But you could if you wanted. The smiles are there be'ind your eyes now. Not sure they were, earlier.
oh my god i think i accidentally deleted this notif fjsk I'M SORRY D:
[She purses her lips at this thought, not entirely displeased. There are worse things to be than a predator; she'd rather be that than a scavenger.]
I think earlier there wasn't much but screaming. Maybe smiles, but not the real kind. Do you know what I mean? [The kind that stand in front of the vulnerable places and keep them from showing at all costs.]
no subject
[Iris' smiles are real, bonedeep, but she's known times when they weren't. She doesn't say so; those days were too many lifetimes ago, now, for her to feel entitled to claim kinship with Abigail.
But she does understand.]
It's the best thing about working 'ere. Those times when you get to see it come together. Anya, Ben, Zane. You. Watching someone grow into their power.
D'you reckon you might stay? After?
no subject
It's like asking a sun what will happen after supernova. I can barely imagine what it would be like to be any different from what I am.
Besides, I wouldn't trust anyone with me.