obsidianlogs

Who: Abigail and YOU
What: A day in the life of a new prisoner
Where: Around Obsidian
When: July 23rd

i. Common room

[ Abigail hasn't taken to coming in here often, but this afternoon it was relatively quiet, so she ventures in, sitting in a corner with her back to the wall. She glances up at the television for a while, in relative disinterest, before something else catches her eye - a ragged page from an old magazine. Through the stains and scribbles on the paper, someone's left her a half-finished crossword. She lights up a little - this will the time for now, at least. ]

Five across: Hillary's challenge as first lady: to do nothing (7).

[ She frowns a little, then quirks an eyebrow up at whoever's nearby, in case they want to have a go at the answer. ]

ii. Bathrooms

[ It would be just her luck to be assigned janitorial duty. At least it's something to keep her occupied, even if it's pretty grim work. She tries to finish up quickly, though she's worried she'll be reprimanded for not being thorough.

She jumps out of her skin when someone bangs on the door, but before she can scurry out to let them use the facilities they're already off down the corridor, laughing at having startled her.

In another stall, she finds someone's drug stash hidden under the rim of the toilet bowl, and frowns as she turns it over in her hands, wondering whether to flush it, or whether that would end up getting her in trouble with whoever it belonged to. ]

iii. Meal room

[ She's managed to queue up early today, hoping for a shot at the better selection of food. When she's nearly at the head of the line, however, a rather burly inmate sees that she's about to get the last of the good stuff - and that she's rather small and unintimidating. Without further ado he storms up and grabs Abigail by the scruff of the neck, dumping her unceremoniously on the ground and taking her spot in the queue. ]

iv. Recreation area - Closed to Rook

[ She's slowly walking circuits of the running track when she sees Rook, and saunters over to him, offering a small smile. She doesn't spend too much time outside, but it makes a change, and that's as much as she can ask for here. ]

Hey, how's it going?

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[ When she smiles back, it is with a cloying sort of sweetness, somehow both warm and dreadful at the same time, much like she herself is. ]

Abigail, lovely. Welcome to Obsidian. I'm the Countess.

[ She's intrigued already, regarding her with a curiosity that's a little beyond what she'd consider polite herself. ]

Are you actually a Countess?

[ They give people all sorts of strange nicknames in prison, right? ]

[ It doesn't bother her. The Countess is generally regarded with a great deal of curiosity, so she's very used to it. ]

I'm American, so no. I owned a hotel before I came here. In Los Angeles.

Oh, wow. [ She looks even more enchanted with that idea than if she actually were nobility, it's a sort of glamour that Abigail has never even really been able to imagine. ] I always wanted to go to Los Angeles. It's about as far from Minnesota as I could imagine.

[ That enchantment is precious, and it makes the Countess feel a bit protective. Innocence is so hard to come by nowadays. ]

It's certainly much warmer. The hotel is still there, you know. The Cortez.

It's weird thinking about that, you know? That things like that are still there, that life's going on.

[ Especially since everything that would hold any meaning in her own life was gone. ]

Life always goes on. That's what you have to remember. Billions came before you and billions will come after, no matter what you do. But just because that's so doesn't mean it has to be sad. It means there's a reason to make a mark.

[ But it must be hard, to be so young and feel years passing you by. The Countess's tone becomes softer, more maternal. ]

I'm sure life has frozen for your family as well.

[ She's pensive on hearing this, feeling a little daunted at the scale, and wondering how it would be possible to make a mark when she's goin to spend the better part of her life in prison. At her question, though, she lets out a short, bitter laugh. ]

You could say that. But they're not likely to thaw out.

Ah. My apologies.

[ For mentioning them, not for their death. The Countess couldn't care less about that. They've abandoned their daughter, in her eyes, barely old enough to be in an adult prison. Neglectful. Reprehensible.

She has already decided that they didn't deserve this girl. ]

How long have you been with us, Abigail?

[ Abigail just shrugs, not particularly upset by the mention of her parents. She's had to become used to talking about them by now, like it or not. ]

Only a couple of weeks.

Just a new little lamb, then. I hope you're settling in as well as possible. I worry about you young ones so much.

[ Which is true. She loves children deeply, even when they're too old to need proper mothering. Prison's lack of little ones leaves her with a void she can fill with people just barely out of secondary school. ]

[ Abigail manages a rare, genuine smile. She's still getting used to the idea that people in this place would worry about her and it definitely makes it a lot easier to be stuck here. ]

It's not been as bad as I thought it would be. I mean, it's prison, it still sucks, but I was terrified when they sent me here and so far it's been, I don't know, manageable at least.

Obsidian is a special prison. Most of us are here for life, so we figure we might as well make it livable. Besides, I've always found prison portrayals to be a bit overdramatic. In reality, nearly everyone wants to avoid confrontation.

[ After all, there's no point in actions that will only ensure your future is miserable. But it makes the confrontations that do happen more deadly -- what's added time when you already know you'll be here forever? ]

And if anyone gives you trouble, I'm always here. I can make sure that my friends care for you as well.

I didn't think about it that way, but that makes sense.

[ She'd been pretty surprised at first that there weren't brawls every five minutes. ]

Thank you. Honestly, I think I need all the help I can get.

[ As it turns out, when you put a bunch of the world's worst people together, they actually band together. Sure, there were turf wars, petty shit between the blocks, but overall, murderers will bond over their love of murder. Plus, TV has an obligation to be entertaining.

The Countess smiles at her, saccharine, and reaches out to give Abigail's hand a gentle pat. ]

No, you just haven't come into your own yet. But you will.

[ Abigail smiles at her, grateful for whatever kindness she can take. ]

I think this is the last place I'm likely to come into my own. [ Everyone's so much bigger and tougher than she is. ] But I hope you're right.

Sweet girl, you can't turn coal into diamonds without pressure. There's no better place to truly find yourself.

[ If "find yourself" actually means "make friends with cannibals and further normalize that insanity", then sure. ]

And the crossword answer is EVEREST. It's not about Hillary Clinton as First Lady. It's about Sir Edmund Hillary climbing Mt. Everest -- Eve, the first lady, and rest, to do nothing.

[ She really wants to believe that, but she'll settle for just surviving in here. But then, she'll be here for a long time, so maybe she really could find a way to come into her own. ]

Wait, really? [ She looks down at the crossword again, a little annoyed with herself for not thinking of that. ] I was on the wrong track completely.

No worries. It took me quite a bit too. Luckily we're in no rush to finish crosswords. We have all the time in the world.

[ Or at least she dos, if she plays her cards correctly. But little Abigail has quite a bit more time than some of the others. ]

Tell me more about yourself, Abigail.

[ She sets the crossword aside, moving her chair closer to the Countess. ]

Sure. What would you like to know?

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