Entries tagged with capable of greatness

twenty-nine ♢ private & video

( private } ben & elena; cw fire imagery )

video

[Everything is, in its own way, a production. Even this. She's posed herself carefully, sitting on her bed and framed in light from the window, so that she looks older, more poised than she feels. What she feels is afraid. Overwhelmed. Not ready.]

[But she has to be ready, which is why she makes herself smile like nothing and nobody can touch her anymore.]

I'm not as good at telling stories as Ben is. But I want to tell this one, if that's okay, because it's important to me. Some of you know it. If you do, I hope it's all right that I repeat it.

[She looks down for a moment, at her hands where they twist together in her lap, and then up at the camera. The smile reaches her eyes, now, because she can feel the strength coming, making her spine straighter and her breath come smoother.]

Just over two years ago now - two years ago for me - my dad died. He'd killed a bunch of girls who looked just like me, and I had helped him. Because I didn't know what else to do, mostly, and because if I didn't, he said he was going to kill me, too.

I didn't want anyone to know what I'd done. I didn't want anybody to think badly of me. I worked so hard to keep myself safe that I ended up killing somebody else, and then . . .

Some of you remember Hannibal.

[She clears her throat, forces her hands to flatten out on the bed beside her.]

It's so easy to trust the wrong person. It's so easy. I trusted so many of them, and I got so many people hurt. I want to apologize, but most of the people I hurt are gone now. For those of you who are still here, I'd take it back if I could. I'm sorry for making the wrong decision.

But I'm not sorry for surviving.

[Now her eyes blaze with confidence, her words coming stronger with every breath.]

Ben saved my life. You all saved my life. So thank you. I'm going now.

I'm going to kill Hannibal.

[She hopes beyond hope that he comes back here. But that part she won't say out loud, just biting her lip, smiling, waving - and killing the feed.]

sixteen ♢ spam & voice

infirmary spam } after mirror barge

[Dying the second time . . . honestly, it wasn't as bad. This feels like a strange thing to think, but it's most of what she thinks in those days of the death toll that feel like death isn't quite over yet.]

[The difference is, her first death, her real one, was intimate. This was a mercy, sort of, and she doesn't totally regret it, but it wasn't. It wasn't.]

[The same.]

[It wasn't family.]

[She lies back in the infirmary bed and stares at the ceiling with a soft smile. It's very impersonal here, but that's a relief in its own way, too. She's not the only person who died, not by a long shot. She's not the person most choose to focus their attentions on.]

[She can just rest.]

spam } blight

[It's a few days after everything clicks back into shape that Abigail works up the energy needed for speech. She doesn't go back to her cabin, although she sort of wants to. There are pros and cons to everything, she thinks, and the pros of staying in the infirmary outweigh the cons by far.]

[Blight is here, for example. She can see him from across the room. His presence makes her feel safe, in a backwards way, simply because she knows he isn't what he was. He will not protect her, but he will be reeling as much as anyone else. Maybe more. He doesn't seem like a man who likes to lose control.]

[One more day, and she hoists herself up out of the bed and makes her way over to his. A soft, quick smile - an exhausted one.]

Who got you?

spam } hannibal

[She knows he isn't welcome in the infirmary. That's part of the reason she stayed. But halfway through her stay, she did begin to regret it. Because . . .]

[This death lacked intimacy. That's one reason. No one sang her songs. No one told her everything was going to be all right. No one apologized. There was no sense of closure.]

[And because he frightens her at the same time he comforts her. Because the uncertainty and insecurity of her relationship with Hannibal Lecter is secured with a love that doesn't seem to die.]

[When she is well enough to walk, she walks to his cabin, and she knocks on his door.]

inmate filter } minus hannibal

I know a lot of people who are here being - punished, or whatever - they've killed people.

How many of you hunted them?

private } ceres

I'm interested in your answer especially.

Entry tags:

thirteen ♢ spam + voice

[After a violent eviction from the last place she ever truly considered to be home, Abigail doesn't know if she'll ever be anything but transient again. The Barge was a close thing, though. It made her feel safe more than it made her feel vulnerable, and so while she doesn't exactly thrill at the prospect of being yanked back here with no warning, she understands. It's the Barge's way. And it's only temporary.]

[Bittersweet.]

[She is a little different, though not unrecognizable. Her hair is longer, her spine straighter, her expression hovering not between neutrality and a scowl but between inexplicable pleasantry and a not-always-nice smile. When she walks, it's like she's balancing books on her head, an angel and devil on either shoulder, both quiet for most of the time. And she doesn't wear the scarf; her scar stands in stark relief against the paler skin of her neck, as it had in the past few months here.]

[First, she looks for people who were important to her: Ben, Harvey, Arkin, David, Ned. Alana, if she's still here, though a large part of Abigail hopes she isn't. Then she looks for Hannibal, to get it out of the way.]

[Then she situates herself in the library or on the deck, alternating between the two, with a book open in her lap. She is unbothered by events. Anyone else can come to her.]

voice

For anyone who hasn't been here before and doesn't understand what's going on: there isn't anything to panic about, at least not yet. I've been here before, so I might be able to answer some of your questions.

( ooc; abigail is from after her own graduation!! weh. )