Abigail Hobbs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
versusnurture) wrote2014-05-14 12:08 am
versusnurture) wrote2014-05-14 12:08 am
Entry tags:
- & sometimes she doesn't lose time,
- [ alana ],
- [ ben ],
- [ ceres ],
- [ derek powers / blight ],
- [ elena ],
- [ scott ],
- a hundred motherfuckers,
- abibabble stabigail,
- always the possibility of murder later,
- ben & the blue lady,
- ceres is mercifulish,
- couldn't protect me in this life,
- granted eternal bliss,
- here are my scars,
- the angry face,
- the trial of abigail hobbs,
- there are no rosehips,
- wow this was not what i wanted at all
fifteen ♢ spam
spam } barge, day 1
[Abigail is different. Noticeably so - but not, precisely, abnormally.]
[She does not realize this. She isn't trying to fit in. She is too sharp, too vicious, too angry to make any kind of effort at concealment. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, she doesn't look out of place.]
[She looks like a girl who has snapped. She looks like a girl who is graduating.]
[Fury simmers in her eyes; she keeps her eyes forward until someone speaks to her, and then she snaps and snarls like a trapped dog. For the most part, she stays with Ben or in public areas, where people mill around, where she can get decently lost in the crowd - but back her into a corner when she's alone and she's likely to lash out with any weapons she has to hand.]
spam } port, remainder
[The planet is arid. Abigail has been set free. Curiously, this doesn't make her feel any better. She doesn't feel free - she feels like she's been released into a trap.]
[The smart thing to do would be to ally herself with the people in the city, and for a while she tries. She can be found among them for the first day on the ground, but she's still too anxious to stay for long, so she ventures out into the fringes, where she can count the number of people around her.]
spam } port, for ceres
[She's been here for two days. Nothing's changed. She isn't suspected as an outsider by the people down here, but then again this is an interminable place; she can't escape here because there's nowhere to escape to, and she's still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ben can't be far away, no matter what he said, not this version of him. He believes too strongly.]
[When she ventures into the center of the city again, for lack of anything more concrete to do, it isn't long before she runs across someone she knows. Her fear response is immediate and noticeable, her pupils dilating, breath quickening, muscles tensing. Anger follows quickly, paranoia right on its heels.]
Did he send you?
spam } port, for ben
[It's worse this time than when Hannibal killed her. It was a gentle death, this time, but in its own way terrible. It was not intimate. And now . . .]
[Now everything hurts. Despite herself, despite what she knows and where she is, she cries out for Ben. Quickly enough she stifles her cries, but hidden in an alley in the center of the city, she can't imagine she'll avoid his attention for long.]
[Not that it matters. She hurts too much to move.]
( ooc; abigail is unaffected for the desperate to deliver plot! her mirror barge backstory is here. )
[Abigail is different. Noticeably so - but not, precisely, abnormally.]
[She does not realize this. She isn't trying to fit in. She is too sharp, too vicious, too angry to make any kind of effort at concealment. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, she doesn't look out of place.]
[She looks like a girl who has snapped. She looks like a girl who is graduating.]
[Fury simmers in her eyes; she keeps her eyes forward until someone speaks to her, and then she snaps and snarls like a trapped dog. For the most part, she stays with Ben or in public areas, where people mill around, where she can get decently lost in the crowd - but back her into a corner when she's alone and she's likely to lash out with any weapons she has to hand.]
spam } port, remainder
[The planet is arid. Abigail has been set free. Curiously, this doesn't make her feel any better. She doesn't feel free - she feels like she's been released into a trap.]
[The smart thing to do would be to ally herself with the people in the city, and for a while she tries. She can be found among them for the first day on the ground, but she's still too anxious to stay for long, so she ventures out into the fringes, where she can count the number of people around her.]
spam } port, for ceres
[She's been here for two days. Nothing's changed. She isn't suspected as an outsider by the people down here, but then again this is an interminable place; she can't escape here because there's nowhere to escape to, and she's still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ben can't be far away, no matter what he said, not this version of him. He believes too strongly.]
[When she ventures into the center of the city again, for lack of anything more concrete to do, it isn't long before she runs across someone she knows. Her fear response is immediate and noticeable, her pupils dilating, breath quickening, muscles tensing. Anger follows quickly, paranoia right on its heels.]
Did he send you?
spam } port, for ben
[It's worse this time than when Hannibal killed her. It was a gentle death, this time, but in its own way terrible. It was not intimate. And now . . .]
[Now everything hurts. Despite herself, despite what she knows and where she is, she cries out for Ben. Quickly enough she stifles her cries, but hidden in an alley in the center of the city, she can't imagine she'll avoid his attention for long.]
[Not that it matters. She hurts too much to move.]
( ooc; abigail is unaffected for the desperate to deliver plot! her mirror barge backstory is here. )
no subject
Life is pain. To hurt is to be alive.
no subject
Then I don't . . .
I don't know. I don't want to deal with it anymore. I don't want to be here, I don't want to be anywhere.
no subject
Do you truly wish that? To end your life, and all its possibilities?
no subject
[Later, she won't understand her own depth of sorrow. She'll have put it away again. But for now, she knows. Her answer is yes.]
[She nods, as tears prick the corners of her eyes.]
no subject
[ You know. With your permission. ]
no subject
[It sounds formal, almost too formal. It's not a lie. A part of her wants to be dead - deader - as dead as she should be. A part of her wants to sit this out. And death is what she wants to wield, too.]
[She closes her eyes.]
no subject
[ All it takes is a thought. She burns almost too fast to produce any heat at all.
All that's left is ash and bone. ]