week one - after investigation

[sating]

[ While many people are off hunting for the other girl, Hannibal is being slightly more reserved in how he's approaching things. He's being careful, since he's still learning peoples' limits and expectations here. It was hardly strange for him to be unnerved in the face of gore and brutality when occasionally consulting with the FBI. He still has to learn what people expect of him here, though so far, he's expecting a cool demeanor will go unnoticed. He's not the only one to seem quite accustomed to death.

He's heading to towards the graveyard out of curiosity to see what may be there, but as he approaches, he sees Elizabeth leaving. Hannibal pauses and looks between the graveyard and the girl, but it only takes a moment before he decides to follow.

He steps after her quickly to catch up, but when he calls out, his voice is calm, but steady. There's not a tone of leisure in his voice, but it's hardly distressed. ]

Elizabeth— [ He says her name to catch her attention first, but his voice softens once he has it ] Did you find anything?

[ He's business first before getting to more emotional questions, but surely those will come. He only needs a moment to see how she's doing. ]

Comments

[leadastray]

[Elizabeth is still new to witnessing death, especially of the violent nature. In fact, the last thing she saw before arriving here had been a dead body. Mr. Chen, beat bloody and bruised, and just like then they had been too late.
All of this is to say that Elizabeth is pretty shook up by tonight's events, overwhelmed as she leaves the graveyard to go find fresh clothing, since her current ones are now covered in Ao's blood.

She's walking briskly, but stops and turns at the familiar voice. When she speaks she's looked back down at her hands and the drying blood that covers them.]

Nothing that helped. We were too late.

[sating]

[ His gait slows as he approaches, and Hannibal takes in the sight of Elizabeth covered in blood. The expression he wears is briefly sympathetic, maybe verging on pity, but he tries to school that part of it. Pity is something that no one ever likes to receive, in his experience. ]

So we were. The story we were told seemed almost a bad joke at the time. Certainly one in bad taste.

[ Instead, he shifts it towards kindness, and though it's not his usual ones, he's still as properly put together as he can be. He pulls out a handkerchief, and though it'll hardly help with everything, he offers it to at least allow her to clean her hands of the blood. ]

Here. For your hands.

[leadastray]

[She accepts the offer, running the fabric over her hands, though it seems to smear more than it removes.]

When they told us what we were here for it was hard to believe, I couldn't accept it. I still can't. A girl is dead and this is just a game to someone.

[She clenches the handkerchief tightly as she talks, but relaxes her grip when she notices what shes doing, folding it loosely.]

Thank you. I should probably wash this before returning it to you.

[sating]

[ He nods lightly in a quiet agreement, though from his expression, it seems like he does have something else in mind. It's not quite the game he's thinking of in itself, but the fact that he was here at all. The fall is still so vivid in his mind that it's often hard to believe that he can stand here before anyone, and yet, here he is. ]

I do not think we need to accept it. Accepting it would only make us sheep complicit with a slaughter.

[ He's unaware of stumbling upon a touchy metaphor, naturally, and I hate myself that I couldn't think of something else. I'm so sorry. But he shakes his head, smiling to her in a tired way. ]

It's not mine in the first place. You may as well keep it. We do not have to be complicit, but for now... It may be needed again.

[leadastray]

[She tenses for a moment at the metaphor (THANKS) but it helps to spur her determination regardless.]

That's right. I won't be a lamb any longer.

[She thumbs the folded cloth in her hand, with no pockets on her current outfit she'll just have to hold on to it for now. Though if it wasn't even Mr. Lecter's, then shouldn't she return it to whomever it belonged to originally?]

For all our sake's, I hope you're wrong. Who did it belong to?

[sating]

I do not know. In a manner of speaking, I suppose it's mine, but laying claim to any of the clothing here feels rude.

[ Which is probably the most polite way to say "they're ugly and I don't want them" possible. He at least keeps his real opinion veiled behind politeness and a bit of deflection. He pauses as he seems to consider her again, but gently, he asks: ]

I have my suspicions, but to be sure... Who is it that died?

[leadastray]

A young girl, I didn't know her but was told her name was Ao...they slit her neck.

[The last part she says quietly, as if still in disbelief over both the murder and their situation.]

I've seen death before, but never like this... I've never touched them after.

[at least mildly traumatized by the whole ordeal tbh]

[sating]

[ Hannibal nods first, though his expression is quiet and solemn. He and Chane had found a blue hair, so he had assumed that it belonged to one of those girls. It's a confirmation of what he had expected. Or at least one of the two possibilities.

The quiet of her voice draws him out of his own thoughts on the matter. He pauses, considering her words as if he's trying to make a decision, but his offer comes gently. ]

It's somewhat cliche for me to ask, but I feel I must all the same. Would you like to talk about it? It's a traumatic experience to come into contact with death. Even if you have seen it before. Each brush is different.

[leadastray]

[She smiles, but it's on the hollow side.]

I supposed if I talk to anyone, a doctor would be my best choice.

Yes, I would like to talk about it, but I'd like to change into fresh clothing, or even just sit down first.

[sating]

Yes, of course.

[ He gives her a sympathetic smile, but now that they have direction, he gestures towards the hotel, then starts to walk. He'll at least accompany her to her room or wherever else she wants to go. He'll still let her lead the way. ]

And for what it's worth, I am sorry. Calling this situation strange is an underwhelming word for it, but if I can be of any help, I will be.

[leadastray]

You don't have to apologize, I didn't even get the chance to know her.

[When they reach her room, Elizabeth steps inside and closes the door after her so she can quickly use the rooms basin to wipe off the remaining blood and change into some of the provided clothing from her dresser. When she steps back out, you'd never know that she'd just been cradling a dead body.]

That's better, thank you for waiting.

[sating]

[ As he waits, Hannibal thinks about her words, because in truth, they surprise him a bit. It's a bit colder than he would have guessed, but he's only surprised. Not judgemental. It's interesting to him, not professionally, but as a person.

When she returns, he gives her a soft smile and a nod. ]

Of course. It's certainly unethical for me to insist upon listening, but it would be impolite to ask you to remain in bloody clothes.

[ It's a light word for it, but his tone is softly joking like he's trying to diffuse the tension with humor. ]

Where would you like to talk? Wherever you may be comfortable, as unfortunately, my office did not come with me. [ which is honestly a shame because liz would probably love it ]

[leadastray]

[ ACTUALLY ITS THIS THAT SHE'S WEARING. ye

It's not that she was being cold, but there are specific people who need to bare the burden of this death, of this game with their lives as the goal, and he's not one of them. Besides, she's shaken up enough over the events that it hasn't really sunken in yet, the speed at which they happened has left little room to feel.]

Somewhere quiet. I've been spending time at the lake lately, so that would be my first choice.

[sating]

[ i'm so glad ]

[ Hannibal nods at her choice, then starts to lead the way, though his steps are measured and careful. He's letting her set the pace here, both of simply heading there and to the conversation itself. ]

Then let's go to the lake. I've not seen much of it, in fact, so it may be helpful to me too.

[ He's kind of assuming Will might spend a lot of time there, so. ]

—How are you feeling, by the way? Slightly better in cleaner clothes, I hope?

[leadastray]

[Don't go smelling for Will during their visit omg.
Her walk is fairly brisk, she's still a tight ball of nerves and adrenaline despite how she's trying to keep herself composed. Getting away from reminders of the evening might help that, and the calmness of the lake doubly so.]

Barely. For the first time since arriving here I feel completely helpless, and the one thing that could help me isn't here.

[sating]

[ LOOK... He just needs to keep tabs on his murder husband leave him alone ]

[ His expression softens in sympathy, since feeling helpless is a reaction that he expects. He imagines that many feel the same way, and have ever since the reality of their situation had started to sink in. He doesn't, but Hannibal hardly counts as anything near normal. ]

And what could help you?

[leadastray]

[This has been one of the most unsettling things to Elizabeth since arriving; the absence of tears completely. Sometimes they wouldn't show up as frequently as others, but they had a penchant for appearing whenever she was stressed or anxious, and that's something she'd been in spades. So where were they? Did walking through do something? They couldn't just not be a part of this world, right? If there was an entrance then an exit must exist too.]

It's hard to explain without an example, but back where I came from, I could do this...trick, that's the best wording for it, where I would find an opening in the world and open it to another one. Sometimes if it was interesting I could bring things through, and the last time I went through myself, but here they've been completely absent.

[sating]

[ Hannibal listens, giving her serious consideration as she explains, but in truth, he doesn't understand. Not really, because how could he? he's not anime enough for this He's from a world far more "normal," the kind of mundane where the existence of something like that is restricted to fantasy alone.

But it presents a strange question for him. He met Ezio and could easily accept (or at least brush away the logic of 'how') meeting an Italian man contemporary to Machiavelli. He's met others that seem to be from other times as well, but as people talk about healing, about powers, he's faced with an odd question there. Is it real, or is it what he naturally gravitates towards as an explanation—delusion? ]

I apologize, but I think I'm caught on the basic part of your explanation here.

[ He cants his head lightly, but his expression is appropriately apologetic. ]

An opening in the world? That sounds like more than a trick.

[leadastray]

[ELizabeth laughs to herself as she realizes how she must sound. It's easy to forget.]

I'm sorry, you must think me delusional.

When you've had an ability all your life it tends to seem mundane... Though shortly before I arrived here I was beginning to learn it was anything but. Still- old habits.

[sating]

[ He shakes his head lightly, giving a little white lie with it ]

No, not delusional. Simply seeking to understand. I'm not so proud as to think that there is nothing beyond my understanding.

[ Hannibal gestures lightly with his hand in a way that's just encouraging her to continue. ]

We all have our own definitions and ideas of normalcy. I'm sure that my own daily habits might sound strange to you. [ :) ] But I'd like to understand what makes your "normal."

[leadastray]

[:)]

I'll try my best.

[As she talks she fiddles with her thimble, it's a nervous habit, but it centers her when she feels most uneasy.]

Ever since I was a little girl, I had my ability, the one to open worlds. When I was a child I remember being able to have more control over it, create the gap for windows to be opened, a "tear." But as I got older, I'd have to search for these openings, it became like looking for loose seams.

It was- is- a part of me, like breathing or eating. I didn't realize what an anomaly I was till I left my tower and found they had been watching me like some sick experiment.

[Though she had started her explanation calm and almost clinical in her tone, her voice takes on a bitter edge here as she remembers what she was to the people-to her father- who kept her locked away from the world.]

[sating]

[ It truly is something beyond his imagining even as she explains in more detail. Hannibal always prided himself on being able to think abstractly and in great detail, but in this, he finds himself surprisingly at a loss. Her comparison to seams in fabric gives it some grounding, but then again, it sounds thoroughly impossible. A tear is a fitting word, but to think of it being ascribed to reality itself is... Well, he's not sure. ]

That is... I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I'm not the one that should be saying so, but all the same, I am sorry that this has happened to you.

[ But that part, the emotion? He can speak to that. His voice is soft, and there's a touch of sympathy there that might be more genuine than others, but those moments are blended seamlessly with the ones that aren't. It sounds no different, and he gives no indication that it's there. But it's also not clear what he's referring to. It could be the fact that she's lost a part of herself, or it could be for her being trapped in the first place. ]

[leadastray]

[She takes it as the latter. After all, she doesn't want to believe that her ability is gone, more that there's something about this place blocking it, she just has to figure out what.]

Thank you. I'm fine so long as those who kept me locked away don't find me again, but I've seen the posters.

[sating]

Then I sincerely hope they do not. Freedom is a valuable thing. I hope that you can hang onto it.

[ Says the man that just had his murder husband break him out of prison, but. No one knows that. No one needs to know that. He links his hands behind his back, looking ahead towards the lake as they approach. ]

Is that what would wait for you beyond this town? Or are you dreaming of Paris?

[leadastray]

[She smiles a real smile for the first time since they began their walk. Paris reminds her and remains what it's always been: a symbol of hope.]

That's the dream, isn't it?

When I first escaped I thought we were set to go there...

[And here her smile falters]

But it was a lie, just like everything else.

[sating]

[ He watches her this time as she speaks, still polite, but there's curiosity there. He sees the flicker of warmth before it's quickly snuffed out by her own experiences, and he thinks he can see a piece of her in that. It's almost like the fairytale of the girl locked in the tower, since she had even called it that herself. But he can see reality in that faltering of her smile. Bitterness.

He wonders, briefly, if it was more than that. Or if it could be. ]

From what you've said, it seems like lies tend to come to you frequently. I take it is is because of your- [ He pauses, since the word is still odd in this context ] Your tears? People do not often lie without reason. But it seems as if those reasons comes at your personal expense.