entrancelogs | [OPEN] Catch-all!

Entry tags:

[OPEN] Catch-all!

Who: Bela and Wonderland
Where: Anywhere and everywhere
When: Across the event!
Rating: PG-13 for now. Will update as needed
Summary: A fun-filled weekend full of alcohol, flirting and vengeance. Followed by regret when the event ends
The Story:

From the moment she woke up on Friday morning, Bela felt a need. But it wasn't just for one thing. She thought nothing of it until later on in the day when Bela found herself asking the closet in her room for a bottle of vintage Chardonnay. The drinking steadily increases over the course of the weekend- though she has just enough restraint to prevent herself from passing out.

Other cravings reared their heads as well. The desire for company. For intimacy. To feel wanted and needed. If Bela was laying on the charm and flirtation pretty thick, then no one was safe. She would understand completely if no one was swayed by her (very obvious) charms and back off; Bela would count it as their loss instead of hers.

By late Sunday, her hatred for those who had wronged her had increased and Bela was seeking retribution. The Winchesters especially. Demons too. They had ruined her life and hindered her plans. Seeking vengeance..no, justice for what they had done seemed right in her eyes.

Nothing would stop her.

((ooc: An event post for those I have plans with but also for those who want to join in the fun. Action or prose is fine :D))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Abigail is jealous of all the people who have cravings for things they can touch, can get from a magic closet or from the people around them. She's seen them: gorging themselves on candy, dancing, flirting, fighting. But she's figured out by now that, by some cruel twist of fate, she only wants things from the dead. She wants to be forgiven by those she has wronged, wants to get revenge on her father for everything he did. None of it is possible, so she can't sleep, can't focus.

It's late Saturday night and Abigail is wandering the mansion trying not to think about how much she would like to have been the one to kill her father, not to imagine different scenarios in which she'd been the one with the knife. If she'd acted first, could she have saved her mother?

She's so deep in her thoughts that, when she spots Bela, it takes her a moment to recognize the woman as one of the first people she talked to after she arrived. The English lady, the one who had told her actual, helpful facts instead of vague platitudes about how it was all going to be fine. Abigail, perceptive as she is, immediately notices the smell of alcohol: well, that is one kind of craving to have, isn't it?

"Hey Bela," she says, with a small, rather stiff wave.

Bela had taken a liking to Abigail when they first spoke. She was smart, asked the right questions and they had the same first name; 'Bela' was a name she had given herself to shake away the past and build up a new identity.

But that wasn't important now.

She recognised something in the younger girl, though she wasn't exactly sure what it was. A vulnerability, perhaps? But there also seemed to be a strength. Bela had a feeling there was more to Abigail than what she had learned so far- it was just a case of finding the opportunity to ask her.

"Abigail," she replies with a smile, surprised to see her. "It's nice to finally meet you in person." It's true that Bela has been drinking, but she's still coherent enough to talk. "What are you doing at this late hour?"

Abigail gives a tiny shrug that she thinks looks more nonchalant than it actually does. She isn't a bad liar, but her body language betrays her in little ways: she is holding herself rigidly, defensively, and against her pale skin it's easy to see shadows under her eyes.

"Can't sleep." She makes the decision not to lie, but she doesn't elaborate. In a way, Abigail is glad for the event: it gives her a good excuse for acting unusual, at least for a little while. Something she can gesture towards to say it wasn't me, we were all acting odd then.

"Bet you're used to these things, aren't you?" she asks, not doubting that Bela will know she's referring to the current event they are all experiencing. If Bela's been here - was it eight months, she'd said? - she must have adapted. Abigail can respect that.

She watches the way Abigail responds, taking in every little detail- something that Bela does best. Just what was going on with her?

"I've been there before." Bela admits softly, being honest in return. It only stretches so far because she was reluctant to tell Abigail the reasons why she had found it difficult to sleep. "Walking around might tire you out."

"I suppose I am. But this event in particular is different to any other that I have experienced in my time in Wonderland." It was affecting her emotionally as well as physically. Both of which were demanding. "It's a tricky one."

Abigail is glad to hear Bela admit that this is a particularly tricky event; that gives her some hope that she'll be able to endure her time here without going too crazy - hopefully. It's small comfort in the meantime, though. She can walk around and tire herself out, but that isn't going to stop her from having nightmares. For once, she misses Port Haven. There, at least, when she couldn't sleep, there were nurses who could give her something to help.

Maybe she'll take a page out of Bela's book and try getting drunk, in lieu of real medicine. She can't imagine that, in a place as nonsensical as this, anyone would be checking for I.D. Who would even have any with them?

"I just wish it would make me crave something simple, like... coffee, or tacos."

"Chocolate and wine for me." She replies in a wry sort of tone, hoping that the event would be over sooner than later because Bela wasn't sure how long she could take it for.

With a sigh, Bela leans against the wall so that she can have a moment or two. There are a million and one thoughts racing through her mind and she can't seem to settle on a single one. Perhaps having company would help her to focus. Looking out for Abigail might help as well.

Her gaze falls on Abigail before she speaks. "I won't ask what it is you are craving. It wouldn't be my place and not my business. This event is impacting upon people in so many different ways and not all of them are so pleasant."

"Wine and chocolate sounds nice," Abigail says, wistfully. She can't see what could be bad about wanting wine and chocolate. So long as she didn't give herself a hangover or make herself sick, Bela should be fine.

Abigail appreciates the deft way Bela invites her to talk about what she might be craving, if she wants to, without interrogating her, either. She's far more used to interactions where people try to pulls uncomfortable truths from her like teeth; it is one thing to give in to badgering, and another thing entirely to offer up information on her own terms.

She gives another one of her little shrugs, says honestly, "I'm not even sure I even know what it is I want." Abigail understands that some part of what's happening to her is making her more talkative about things that is usual, but the knowledge isn't very useful. She's gotten a little better at at least veiling her truths, though. So instead of some more explicit confession, all she says is, "Except to change stuff that can't be changed, anyway, so what's the point of it, anyway?"

That last part turns petulant, and she comes beside Bela, resting her back against the wall, too, a foot or two away.

"Do you think it's always wrong to want to hurt someone? No matter what?"

Wine was something she had indulged in over the past few days because it made things seem better than what they were. A temporary fix for her real problems and cravings which were slowly coming to the surface.

Pushing her into talking would do the opposite. Abigail wasn't someone that Bela was trying to con or use for information; she was a young woman who had found herself in a strange place where bad things could happen. If she wanted to tell Bela anything, she would listen and advise if she could.

"A lot of people would want to change things if it was possible. You're not alone in thinking that." There was so much that Bela wished she could do differently but she knew that it was impossible, unless she was able to travel back in time.

Abigail's petulant tone has Bela giving her a sympathetic kind of expression. Understanding. She turns her head to look at her when she settles herself against the wall so that they could talk properly.

"Not always." Her words hit pretty close to home. "If you feel threatened and unsafe, then protecting yourself is important." A pause. "Hurting someone for the sake of it is wrong though. You shouldn't do that."

Abigail is smart enough to read between the lines and guess that Bela is including herself in the 'lot of people' she mentions. Bela's solidarity helps, a little. Because she's had to keep it all a secret, Abigail has felt isolated, aberrant. It's a comfort to know she isn't the only one with regrets.

That moment of understanding is why what Bela says next hits her like cold water to the face. The 'you' might have been meant proverbially, generally, but the event has got Abigail so twisted up in her own guilt that even the gentlest things sound like cruel accusations.

"Of course not. I would never do that," Abigail protests quickly, angrily, and something in her voice has gone strained, as if she might cry if she'd only let herself. She has no intention of letting herself. All the same, it must be all too clear that Bela has struck a nerve. Abigail sniffs, lifts her chin and looks away, taking a moment to compose herself. Bela didn't know the context, hadn't meant to imply anything.

"Sorry," she mutters, quietly. With a tiny, hurt shrug, as if to imply it's not that big of a deal (though it clearly is) Abigail explains her own response, "There are a lot of people in my world who think I would- who think I did. But they're wrong. I'm not like that."

But is it the truth? What if a little part of her is like that? She remembers that moment of sick power she felt after she stabbed Nick Boyle and, undeniably, there is a part of her that wants to feel that again. Even though it's only a tiny part of her, surrounded and almost drowned out by her horror at the idea, isn't a small part still too much?

Abigail's sudden protest has Bela wondering if there was something in the question she had asked of her. A story perhaps. It didn't seem to be the kind of question that was asked in general; at least not in Bela's experience.

She waits until the younger girl felt up to looking at her again before saying anything. Bela didn't miss the way her tone nor the way she glanced away, avoiding eye contact altogether. It only confirms Bela's suspicions that there was so much more to Abigail than she had previously thought and she wasn't going to ignore it.

"It's fine, Abigail. No need for you to apologise." Bela replies soothingly. "I wasn't implying anything about you, just speaking in general." But to provoke such a reaction? That was something to make a note of. "Then they must have got it wrong for some reason or another." Although it was her word against theirs perhaps. "I don't think you're like that. You've given me no indication that you are."

Her thoughts drift briefly to Jesse and what she had said after he had revealed a dark part of his past to her. It isn't long until Bela spoke again.

"And even if you were, who am I to judge? I've done some questionable things in my life."

Abigail knows she has no right to feel relieved when Bela reassures her she thinks people are wrong. Bela doesn't have all the information, or even a small percentage of it. If she did, she might not be so quick to reassure. Just because Abigail hasn't given the indications, doesn't mean the indications don't exist. Bela doesn't know about her father, about Nick Boyle, about any of it.

Yet, logic aside, Abigail does feel better. It's not much, not nearly enough to slake the thirst for forgiveness and acceptance that has been keeping her up and making her restless these last few days - but it's something.

"But people who shouldn't judge still do. All the time." Then, belatedly, and more quietly. "Thanks."

Abigail fiddles with the cuffs of her sleeves, staring at them and wondering if she should let Bela go, if the other woman feels some kind of obligation to stay and speak with her when she'd probably rather be heading to sleep. Abigail is quick to suspect obligation; most of the people she knows these days feel obligated to help her or care for her, except for the ones who just want to get something out of her.

Ultimately, selfish though it might be, she decides to keep talking. "Like what?" There's a faint kind of hope in the way Abigail asks. "Just... stealing? Because that's not that bad if you ask me."

It's true that Bela knows very little about Abigail overall and vice versa; maybe there would come a time in which they learn more about each other but that required a build up of trust and understanding.

"You're welcome." Giving her the benefit of the doubt. She has met incredibly judgmental people who believed they were right in doing so. Bela didn't have a very high opinion of them.

She was too restless to sleep, caught up in her thoughts and emotions that had risen to the surface over the past few days. Better to spend some time with a person who seemed to need someone else to talk than attempt a fitful sleep. However, it didn't mean that Bela was going to patronise Abigail or treat her like she was a child.

There's a small shake of her head to her question. "Not just stealing. I've conned people. Eluded the law and threatened others." There was so much more but she felt reluctant to share. Not now. Perhaps not ever. That part of her past and life was difficult to talk about.

Abigail nods in acknowledgement. None of that sounds all that bad to her, either, which probably says more about her standards than it does about Bela's life choices. They're not all victimless crimes, exactly, but they are far less bloody than what lurks behind Abigail's eyelids. There is a universe of difference between stealing jewels or artifacts or whatever it was, and gutting someone.

The need to confess is like an itch under her skin, but Abigail fights it. She likes Bela, wants Bela to like her. So she chooses carefully what to disclose, what to conceal. It's not exactly artifice: more like selection. After all, what she says next is the truth. Just a select portion of it.

"I'm not sure, but I think... what it's making me want-" Abigail says in a small voice, returning to their earlier point of conversation, "-is to hurt the people who've hurt me." She lets that sit for a moment, jaw set and face still in a way that gives away how hard she's working not to cry. "But I can't. So I'm just stuck thinking of all the ways I'd do it if I could."

What about being responsible for killing your parents? Indirectly anyway. Bela was desperate back then for a way out of a horrible situation and their deaths was the only way she could achieve that.

She wouldn't blame Abigail for being selective with what she told her, having done it herself on numerous occasions. The only people who could know were the ones that Bela absolutely trusted with her dark secrets. While she liked Abigail well enough to build up a friendship with her, letting her guard down was difficult for Bela.

"The event plays on our wishes and brings them to the forefront of our minds. Any thoughts or desires we may have. It's difficult not to think about them." The expression Abigail wears is enough to tell Bela just how much this event was affecting her. "I get it. I do. Blame the event, Abigail. Blame the mansion. You can fight against those wishes and not give into them."

It does her some good, to hear Bela telling her that she should blame things other than herself. But the mansion is only encouraging her violent thoughts and impulses, not creating them. What's being done to her is mere alteration, mere amplification. The desire for blood and revenge was already within her, and Abigail knows it. Bela is looking at her, though. Abigail can see it from the corner of her eye. With that expectation laid on her, Abigail nods her acceptance of Bela's advice, tries not to be too hard on herself, for a little while.

"Yeah."

Hugging her arms around herself, Abigail wonders if she is strong enough to fight them. She hasn't exactly shown that much strength in the past (at least, she doesn't think so). She'd taken the path of least resistance, gone alone, appeased and hidden lived with the consequences. Bela wouldn't say she 'got it', Abigail thinks, if she knew everything. And the impulse to just tell her, to blurt it out, has been growing stronger and stronger, so that by this point Abigail can feel the words clamoring in her throat, waiting to break free. But she can't do that. She can't. It was one thing to tell Will, but to tell Bela would be too dangerous.

Quickly, before she can expose herself any further, Abigail chokes out a hasty, "Thanks, Bela," and starts to quickly walk away. She knows it will be obvious that she's running away, retreating in some state of agitation, but it's more important to put distance between them before she slips than to maintain an appearance of calm. She can always apologize later when she's not feeling quite so tempted to spill all her secrets.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[OPEN] Catch-all!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject