Clarice Starling - Silence of the Lambs (post-canon) - now with continuity!

[mm_merky]

Clarice has gotten a room.

She got a room and some fresh clothes-- the blouse and businesslike pencil skirt are a major improvement over Pilcher's nightshirt, though she hardly thinks she can afford it all

Comments

[his_usurper]

At the Bar is a small blonde girl - late teens, hair pulled back into a sensible French braid, clothes practical - jeans, long sleeves, walking boots. Given the empty pack in hand, it appears she is contemplating getting supplies. She could be any girl, out for a hike.

But across her back is a sword, sheatheed, yes, but still unmistakable.

[no_more_chianti]

Clarice is on the lookout for Lecter(s) in particular, and anything out of the ordinary, in general. The blonde girl is not either of these.

The sword ... is decidedly the latter.

So it's possible that Clarice's focus sharpens, momentarily locks in on her. At the very least, it's a curious thing to be carrying.

[his_usurper]

She knows when someone is looking at her. It's a creeping sensation between her shoulder blades but her movement as she turns her head is languid, socialite-in-polite-society.

The look in those deep blue eyes is cool, calculating, intelligent, and she narrows them for a moment.

Just a moment.

[no_more_chianti]

Combined with the not-so-concealed-weapon, the girl's gaze may be a little disconcerting, but Clarice doesn't let it throw her. She's jumpy, and reading the look as hostile probably wouldn't be fair.

Probably.

Clarice offers a faint smile and a faint nod-- polite-- before busying herself with her water. She herself has been by the bar for a few minutes, wondering what else she ought to ask for.

[his_usurper]

She smiles back, just as polite.

"Undecided?" She asks at last, accent French on Lithuanian with a Russian twist.

[no_more_chianti]

Clarice is curious, and not a little wary-- though it occurs to her that she might just mean she's having trouble ordering.

"What about?"

[his_usurper]

"Choosing....whatever you were contemplating ordering." There is a hint of impishness about her smile, but only a hint.

[no_more_chianti]

... Yep. There you go.

Clarice tries momentarily to place the girl's accent, but gives up quickly; she can tell Texas brush from Arkansas hills, but anything that is both European and multi-ethnic is a bit beyond her.

And smiles, in the meantime.

"Well, as far as I can tell there's not even a menu around here. Anything you'd recommend?"

[his_usurper]

"Well, what do you feel like? A snake or an actual meal?"

[no_more_chianti]

"Uh ..."

Clarice considers. It's been far too long since she's eaten anything worth noting, though until recently the adrenaline of finding herself at a crazy Lecter-infested bar at the end of the universe had been enough to fuel her through.

"Better make it dinner."

[his_usurper]

"Their Vienna Schnitzel is excellent." Pause. "Although, so are most things here, that I've tried."

[no_more_chianti]

"Schnitzel, huh?" Honestly, it wouldn't have been her first choice, but just about anything sounds good right now. "All right. Uh--"

She's still a little apprehensive about talking to a counter, but it seems to work; the food arrives almost instantaneously.

It's hot, and it smells good. That's really all Clarice requires.

The smile she flashes Mischa this time is wider.

"Thanks."

[his_usurper]

Her own widens, as if it is now approved.

(the polite look hasn't faded from her eyes, though - Mischa is merely better at socalizing than her brother, not perfect)

"My pleasure, madame."

[no_more_chianti]

"Mmm!"

That would be Clarice's pleasantly surprised exclamation upon tasting the schnitzel. Once she's chewed and swallowed, she grins again.

"Damn. That's not half bad." Realizing then that it's probably good manners to introduce yourself to somebody who's just furnished you with terrific dining options, she adds, "I'm Clarice, by the way."

[his_usurper]

"And I am Mischa."