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.]
spam
[Alana sets down the towel she used to try her hands and looks at Abigail. There's a small pause before Alana reaches out and places a hand on Abigail's shoulder. Her touch is light and gentle, nothing firm or guiding about it. Simply one hurt human reaching out and touching another. It's not exactly the sort of relationship Alana ever expected to have with Abigail Hobbs, but that doesn't make it a bad thing. They can rely on each other here. And though Abigail is not always stable nor the healthiest, even looking out for Abigail is better than nothing for Alana to fall back on right now.]
Thank you.
[Alana smiles a little stronger than Abigail and gives just a small squeeze to her shoulder before letting it go.]
spam
[She weaves her fingers together, wringing them gently to feel sensation.]
I know. But I'm my responsibility, and I still . . . feel responsible. For bad things that happened because of the choices I made. You not knowing is a bad thing happening.
[Will being locked up, that's a bad thing happening. It's not wholly her fault, but sometimes it feels like it is.]
[She shrugs, anyway, and stuffs her hands into her pockets.]
You're welcome, anyway. Sorry you have to depend on crazy.
spam
I'm not sure you can really call yourself crazy.
[And all things considered, Abigail is probably more sane than most people on the Barge.]
spam
I think I can call myself crazy if I feel crazy.
[She will draw a line between what she is and what she feels someday, maybe, but - there's no denying she's damaged. The mental equivalent of bones broken and never set, healed knotty and painful when it rains.]
spam
Fair enough. But you're not alone, Abigail. Not this time.
spam
I wasn't before. But now I know it.
. . . Thanks. I mean. I don't want to sound ungrateful.
spam
spam
[A small smile.]
I remember that about you. You don't get offended easily.
spam
[Get Alana fired up and you best duck and cover. Even Jack Crawford knew better than to push her too hard.]
spam
[Hannibal's in trouble now, essentially.]
I trust you. I should have trusted you sooner. It shouldn't have taken dying. But, you know.
Better late than never.
spam