harlequined | ( AN OPEN POST #2 )

( It was Abigail's idea, going back home. The train ride from Arizona back to Minnesota was a couple hundred dollars, but it was worth getting the police off the Gecko brothers' back. As it turns out, kidnapping a young girl paints quite the target on grown men's backs.

She didn't want to go, truthfully, which might sound odd to anyone that was paying any kind of attention to the news or who knew Abigail Hobbs was. Going from a murderous father to being taken hostage by two professional thieves. (What a life.) The original plan was to be home for good and never look back. There was no way to communicate with them. Disposable cell phones meant no phone calls or texts (not that either of those felt right), and constantly being on the move left no address to send letters.

She's never been all too fond of sticking to plans, which is how she finds herself in a small town in Southern California less than two weeks later. (That's right, Seth, she paid attention to all of those plans of yours.) Call it in a hunch, but the black car covered in red dust parked in the back of a cheap motel could only belong to two people, which is why she ultimately sits in an old chair outside the room, opting to toss small pebbles at the window rather than knock on the door. Police knock.

Abigail's a criminal when she's with the Geckos. )

[ The neon sign flickers overhead, buzzing to a song only they seem to know. The Comfort Inn, the two ns fade in and out interchangeably.

He's convinced himself he doesn't miss her. She left; she left and they let her go. It's her choice, Richard. This life wasn't for everyone. Another time, another place, it wouldn't have been for the Gecko brothers. This is here and this is now. Now, they move forward. The job is never over, the day is never done. They pull out of the train station and Richie doesn't turn in his seat.

California. They've been here before, but the north seems another country. It's two nights before they continue, ready themselves for what lies ahead. Three AM and Seth's buried his face in his pillow, drooling into fluffed decorum.

The pool appears radioactive now. In the midst of light and dark, only the buzzing to occupy the night. He glimpses her in the distance, silhouette familiar, but far away. Abigail's presence allowed Seth and Richie to breathe — something catches in his throat and he blows it out with the smoke from his chest. ]

You know, all that noise at this hour? [ He flicks the cigarette butt elsewhere and it trails embers over gravel. ] It's almost criminal.

( At her feet rests a navy blue backpack. She didn't pack much; she didn't need it. The essentials: a couple articles of clothing that can interchange and create a handful of different outfits, shampoo to last her until she can buy more, her laptop. She hopes that they didn't sell her gun when she left. They didn't seem like a pair of nostalgic men, but it wasn't theirs to get rid of, right? She had no option but to leave it.

It's not like bringing it onto a train headed back home to her semi-normal life was an option.

She's in the process of gathering another handful of pebbles when he speaks, and Abigail's head whips in the direction of Richie's voice. She can't help but grin, raising an eyebrow in amusement. It's dark, so hopefully it doesn't go unnoticed. )

Luckily for me, that's not uncommon, here.

( The newly gathered pebbles in her hand fall to the ground, as she realizes it's best not to wake Seth if she doesn't have to. The man needs his beauty rest — she'd been reminded of that on more than one occasion.

She doesn't know what to say. That she's a fickle teenager? That she missed them, especially Richie? That she feels like a black sheep in Minnesota, knowing all the things she's done?

Instead, she takes a simpler route. )

I'm glad I caught you.

[ Richie doesn't miss it, the way her lips pull upright, mischievous and aligned with her brow. He leans into the door's frame, tilting his chin, curious. She might be an idea; these days, he doesn't remember waking up, taking into the passenger's seat alongside his brother.

He reaches out, thumb grazing familiar red dust from her cheek. Richie leans his thumb to his face, examining it against the brightness before it fades from sight. He turns his attention to her, pushing hands into coat pockets. ]

Why are you here, Abigail?

[ It isn't accusatory, wrought with distaste. He can see it in her expression. She never should have walked away. This life chooses you; it was never the other way around. To escape was either brave or stupid. ]

You got out.

( It's been a long time since Abigail's been somewhere that doesn't feel temporary. Even with them endlessly hopping from motel to motel and with the constant possibility of getting caught on their minds, being with the Geckos always felt more like home than Minnesota ever did.

Abigail shrugs almost sheepishly, cheeks flushed hot even in the cool night air. She struggles to look at him, and looks down at her feet which are currently kicking at those previously mentioned pebbles. She's never been all that good with honesty, being raised to lie about just short of everything.

With Richie, though, the answer seems to come out before she even has a chance to stop it. )

I couldn't stay. ( She wrings her hands in her lap and fiddles with a ring around her right ring finger, nervous that he might disapprove of her actions even though he's done nothing to show that he does.

An awful habit that her father engrained into her a long time ago. ) I don't belong there, not anymore.

So, — what? You decided you'd try your luck again in the middle of nowhere with those two criminals you've heard tell about in the town square? Nice try, but I've seen True Grit. [ He stands upright, staring off into the distance as he contemplates something, anything. Looking at Abigail tells him too much, explains the things she can't. He isn't after answers, though he has the questions. ]

This isn't a game. You're either in this or you're out. You go in there, Seth'll tell you the same damn thing.

[ Richie is calm; always calm, when he has what he's looking for. It's her, even if he doesn't have any desire to express that. No need to try. ]

Your choice.

I didn't leave because I wanted to. I left to give you two time to get away from the spotlight.

( Her voice raises perhaps a bit too high, given the time of night. It's a defense mechanism. She feels like a small girl that's being scolded, and it's not a feeling she welcomes.

She usually feels like an equal around the Geckos — it's one of the reasons she decided to come back; one of the reasons she stuck around in the first place. She was a victim back in Minnesota, in Baltimore when she was at the hospital after her father tried to kill her. She was Garret Jacob Hobbs' poor, ruined daughter. With them, she's just Abigail.

She's been through too much to be that poor, victimized girl again. She's got the blood on her hands to prove it, though she's been told that doesn't mean anything. Her temper often gives her away. )

You know I was making it worse, even if you didn't actually get around to saying it. I'm not stupid.

I gave you a choice. You? Chose us. We didn't choose you. You stayed, you enjoyed it. You left, because it got too hot. [ He stands off of the frame, looking down his nose at her. Her voice raises; any louder and Seth won't hesitate to shove his head in through the door.

Both his hands spread over the arms of the chair, gripping the rests tight. Richie's back curves, cornering her there until she feels as small as she appears.

He angles his head, watching her eyes — they're bright, wide in the night. He wants to swallow her whole and let her fill the gap she's left behind. Let her go, Richard. Not again. ]

Is that what you're going to be, Abigail? Mm? The Chesapeake Ripper's scared little daughter who runs away, because she can't handle the battles she's chosen for herself?

[ His breath is on her face and he could do it, if he wanted to. She wants a way out — why not give it to her? Allow her to see what she's been missing.

Instead, he grabs her by the neck, hand over the scar that keeps her sewn together. He presses his lips to her mouth, opting to steal her soul for himself. ]

Oh, you didn't? ( These words leave her laughing, but there's no amusement in it. It's a lifeless, bitter sound. ) Because that's not how I remember our first meeting going.

( This isn't what she had in mind when she decided to come back. Abigail knew they probably wouldn't understand, but this? This is more than she had prepared herself for.

It's as though the ground beneath her feet — ground that she was sure was firm and stable — was crumbling beneath her, leaving her grasping at a way to keep herself standing upright. It's frantic and it's embarrassing and it's a reminder of just how young she is, that simple words can leave her hands trembling. )

If I was scared I wouldn't have stayed in the first place, let alone come back. I would've left and not looked b—

( Definitely not what she had in mind, but as she leans forward in her chair to get closer and press her lips back to his, she decides it's not a bad replacement.

His hand on her neck makes her heart race in a way that almost scares her, and Abigail grips the wrist of the hand at her neck, but after a second of contemplation, she decides not to move it. Unwanted memories come flooding back, but she pushes them aside, deciding to focus instead on the present rather than the past. After all, while this isn't the reason she came back, it's not unwanted. )

[ He doesn't know when or why he chose to break the kiss, but he assumes it had something to do with oxygen. A necessity, by all specific means. Richie opens his eyes and finds hers, as curious as his his were to see her there. He comprehends his actions; hers come from an understanding that is slightly less.

His thumb strokes across the sensitive skin, the trace of her past flush against her neck. His breath catches, somewhere between reality and the idea he believed her moments ago to exist as. He should say something, break the unavoidable silence that often befriends a kiss.

He can hear Seth now — it makes for an awkward situation. ]

Seth kept your gun.

[ She's warm, cheeks pink. Her lips were soft, rarely used for anything other than the tales she spins to make her living. Richie licks over the taste of her mouth. ]

Couldn't bring himself to pawn it.

( She'd gotten tired of being seen as a teenage girl everywhere they went. It shouldn't have bothered her quite as much as it did, but getting strange looks from everyone that passes them by on the street gets old fast.

Abigail doesn't ask for much. A small cut from whatever they get so that she can get the occasional treat for herself. A necklace that she's always wanted, a pair of shoes that she has to teach herself to walk in. She's still a girl, after all, astonishingly good with a gun or not. It's when they stop just outside of Hollywood that she gets the idea to make herself into something new. Expensive clothing stores in the alias capital of the world? It's only too easy to buy that little black dress and slip into that aforementioned pair of heels.

The brothers wear expensive suits everywhere they go, it's only natural for her to start to look the part too, right? At least, that's what she tells herself as she steps out of the bathroom to their motel room, smoothing out the skirt that stops just above her knees.

Richie disappeared a while ago to get food and ammunition, so when she leaves the room altogether, stepping outside into the night air, it's Seth she finds leaning against the wall. Suddenly she feels self conscious about her wardrobe. There's a reason she's always stuck to wearing jeans. )

Everything okay?

[ Hollywood. Goddamn Hollywood. The glitz, the glamor, — the friggin' traffic. You want the truth? It's a goddamn nightmare. Richie, of course, is that Gloop kid in Wonka's factory. It might be worth a few laughs if every Joe and Sue wasn't walking down the street like they owned the place, clutching their Starbucks and making any kind of headway by pushing their way through a group of three — count 'em — people.

Two Geckos, one Hobbs. Sounds like a bad joke, right? Two criminals and their very own Little Orphan Annie. It took a little convincing, on his part. She chose to join their two-man band of Merry Men and now where were they? — Goddamn Hollywood.

The job is about as tricky as it gets. Pulling a heist around here? You might as well be signing the fine line to your own death. That's why they chose it. Things were getting slow. What they needed now was a challenge, a special brand of Gecko Brand™ pick-me-up. That's where Abigail gets the idea that she needs to look the part. She's not wrong; two grown men parading around in suits while she's still hanging out in her blue jeans make things a little weird.

He glances at his watch. They have places to be; Seth's opted to take Abigail to the hotel they've staked out, getting a little one-on-one with the scenery. ] What, you fall asleep in there, princess?

[ He's reached for the door when she opens it, stepping out like she's some dame in a black and white picture. There's no avoiding the way his eyebrows raise. ]

Look at you, Greta Garbo. [ Seth extends his elbow for the taking. ] You seen a smalltown girl from Minnesota around? She's runnin' a little behind on time here.

( She's not been back a full twenty minutes and it's already felt like an emotional roller coaster. At least with Seth, things won't end up like this. Knowing him, he'll give her that look — the one with the raised eyebrows and the pursed lips that makes her feel like some kind of ashamed animal, but none of that will have her doubting her actions like Richie somehow managed to do.

She was so sure of what she was doing, coming back to find them, and while she doesn't regret it, she wonders if perhaps he didn't want her to come back. If once she was gone, he'd wished she would stay gone. It's all very confusing, and not really something she wants to think about at the moment, if only she could stop.

Abigail licks her lips and closes her eyes at his thumb traces her scar, hyperaware of the fact that it's there after all that time she'd spent getting over the fact that it exists. )

I told him he'd miss me.

( She opens her eyes once more and she smiles. It's faint, but it's there. Hot, cold, even she doesn't fully know what the temperature of the water they're currently treading is. )

Where's the next hit?

Big hotel in Downtown Hollywood.

[ Seth didn't express how he felt, not when it came to Abigail. The more emotionally giving than Richie, it was clear that Seth held a certain respect for the girl. Her leaving left them with pauses that appeared longer than they were before she joined the Geckos on their roadshow. Neither would mention it, which made the silences all the more unrealistic.

Richie pulls back from where he stood. He clears his throat, making good with the frame he'd quickly made his escape from. When he folds his arms, his tongue slips forth one more time to savor the remains of whatever it was she left behind. ]

There's room for one more, [ Richie watches a fly zip across the pool's surface. ] if you think you're up for it.

She actually said that she couldn't make it, so she sent me instead. ( Abigail takes his arm, trying her hardest not to blush at the contact.

She's been with the brothers for a good handful of months, there's no reason for her to still be so shy, especially when it comes to the elder brother. ) She told me to give her sincerest apologies and hopes that you don't mind.

( With her free hand, she reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. It's usually tied back, especially when in the South — it's too hot to leave it down, but if she's going to look the part, then she has to look the part.

Hours spent doing her hair and make-up better be worth it.

Her heels click on the pavement, and she keeps glancing down every couple of seconds to make sure she doesn't fall on her face. The last thing she wants to do is draw that kind of attention to them when they arrive at the hotel. All of this would have been for naught.

The unspoken question is still on her mind, and she knows it'll eat at her if she doesn't just up and ask, so she clears her throat and glances aside to Seth. )

Do I look okay? Is it too much? ( The paranoia is sinking in. ) Should I go back and change?

( She knows it'd be best to stay away from the kingdom after what she did, but Maleficent's long since stopped caring about what she should and should not do. It was around the same time her pesky sense of morality faded away when she had her very life ripped away from her.

Perhaps that's what leads her into the kingdom's walls, and to the castle. Pure, saturated spite. He took something special from her, she took something precious from him, and now it's time to rub it in.

It's easy enough to get in, though with the extra pairs of eyes keeping an eye on the castle, it really shouldn't be. It't not his fault King Stefan can't protect his castle from magic. A wave of her hand and the guards all but slip into a coma for the next hour, which will be long enough for her to achieve her goals.

It's been five years since she last saw him, the day she cursed his daughter to sleep for all of eternity. She never pegged him to be a man of faith, but when she finds Stefan, he's in a church. Praying for the life of his daughter, or to strengthen his walls, she's unsure, but knowing the greed of men, probably the latter.

She's watched the girl; she knows he hasn't come to see her even once since the day she was taken from the castle. This fact doesn't surprise her in the slightest. )

Has God given you the answers you seek?

( AN OPEN POST #2 )

( lydia )

( abigail )

( santanico )

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( abigail )

( lydia )

( deb )

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maleficent.

abigail.

jessica.

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