Hannibal Lecter (Female) - Hannibal Rising (plus some crack) - Multiversal Bar

[mm_pyth]

There's a calm, quiet young woman sitting in an armchair by the fire with a glass of water and a contemplative expression.

She would not be averse to company.

Comments

[sadold_lover]

A well-dressed person of questionable gender approaches the armchair unhesitantly and sits on the floor, bending her knees underneath her.

"Water?" she asks. "A teetotaler, are you?"

[suspects_ravens]

"Not drinking at the moment and not drinking ever do not equate," Hannibal points out reasonably, with a small smile.

[sadold_lover]

"Ah, good. I've never had patience for anyone who holds back." She smiles curiously. "Can't say I can place your accent... Hungarian, is it? No linguistics major, I."

[suspects_ravens]

"Lithuanian," she corrects with a small smile. "And likely flavoured with a few years of Russian and a few more of French."

[eidetiker]

Just one tonight, then? Will wonders vaguely if it's Sitting or Leaning.

He's taken a table that has a good view of the bar's main room as a whole, a clear view of the front door -- or at least, where the front door ought to be -- and a quick route to the lakeside door. His gun is heavy against his hip, and his coffee is steaming on the table in front of him.

He looks a little haggard.

[suspects_ravens]

It isn't the Hannibal at the couch who asks: "Are you all right?"

She approaches from the stairs, and although she makes no particular effort at stealth she walks silently without disturbing the objects in her path.

For the sake of not further disturbing his nerves, she stops with a table between them and her hands in plain view, resting by her sides.

Her double is within clear and easy earshot.

[eidetiker]

The glance he throws between her hands, her double, and her face is more or less automatic.

"I've been better."

Actually, he hasn't been this bad since Dolarhyde killed Freddy Lounds.

[suspects_ravens]

"That much," she informs him dryly, "is evident."

The Hannibal by the couch appears to be taking no notice of either of them. It's a false appearance, of course, but not particularly put on for anyone's sake.

The closer version studies Will for a moment longer and then nods to the empty chair across from him.

"May I sit?"

[athingforred]

Would this company suit?

A slim young man, early twenties, pushing through the crowded bar. It's fairly obvious that he's looking for a seat; probably pure chance that his eyes light on the one across from Hannibal's. From his manner, you might guess that he's suffered a disappointment, but that he's carrying it with grace.

Stephen Just is a really good actor.

"Hey, sorry... this one's not taken, is it?" He puts a hand on the back of the empty armchair, directing a hopeful half-smile at Hannibal.

[suspects_ravens]

"By no means," she says politely. "Sit."

Her body language is incredibly masculine, her face incredibly immobile, and when she makes a polite gesture of invitation her hands move with a surgeon's precise elegance.

[athingforred]

Approximately none of these things counts as bad in Stephen's book: after all, when you get them drunk, even the most ladylike of madams forgets to sit with her legs just so. Plus, this girl has an accent.

"Cheers. Thanks." He slides into the seat. After a couple of carefully-timed seconds: "Is it usually this busy in here? I felt like a sardine."

[suspects_ravens]

"Not usually, no."

Hannibal does not look interested in his flirting; apart from a politely blank facial expression, she's giving him nothing here.

If he has a gaydar, it should be clanging like a belltower at noon.

(from Shatter)

[his_usurper]

There is a calm, quiet young woman making her way over to the fire place. Long blonde hair, tied back into a braid as neat as she can make it. Dirty clothes - jeans, long-sleeved shirt, boots. A kantana in her hands, sheathed, and even if she sits down with grace it's obvious that she is bone-weary as well.

Re: (from Shatter)

[suspects_ravens]

Hannibal is utterly, utterly still.

Re: (from Shatter)

[his_usurper]

Mischa looks up, face as dirty as the rest of her but still pretty despite of it. A quick smile.

"Did I dis-"

Her eyes widen.

"-turb you?"

Re: (from Shatter)

[suspects_ravens]

It's the same face. It's her brother's face, made softer but still somehow his, and it's her brother's voice (a little too high and a little too smooth, but roughened again by harsh uncertainty) that asks:

"...Mischa?"