week one - after trial

[sating]

[ As everyone is dispersing for the evening, Hannibal lingers for a moment to survey everyone. With the stress of the day, he imagines that there are quite a few people feeling stressed (to say the very least) by the day's events. Eventually, his attention stops on Sei and Xion, who had both been quite hopeful in their defenses of Tiara. Sei had asked to speak with him on medicine, and he considers going to her, but... That break in Xion's voice is fresher in his mind. It's also more vulnerable.

He follows her to the hall, then reaches out to place a hand on her shoulder once more. This one is lighter than before, but still kind. Even in such a simple gesture, there's worry. ]

Excuse me, Xion—

[ He hopes it isn't too rude to refer to her so casually when they hadn't been properly introduced, but she seemed fairly amenable to being casual in the first place. ]

Forgive me if I'm intruding... But would you like someone to talk to? I can gladly lend an ear. It's something like my duty, considering my line of work. [ He withdraws his hand, but nods to her lightly ] Though only if you would find it helpful. I don't wish to pry or push.

Comments

[sating]

[ Hannibal reaches towards the pocket of his jacket almost out of instinct when Xion starts to crumble, because he does expect it, in part. He may not understand all of the context here, but it's clear enough that this is something both very important to her and also weighs very heavily on her. He expects her to cry, and so he expects to offer his handkerchief, since it's something he's never without.

But she draws herself up with determination. There is a sort of pause in his movement as if he's making sure that she isn't about to crumble, but with a light nod of his head, he sits back in his own chair. ]

And I can see you're quite determined to follow through on that. It is an excellent place to start, I think. Determination can lead to great things.

[ He starts to neatly fold the handkerchief again, though not quite in the formal fold it had been in before. Just in case she does decide she needs it, he won't spend the time to make it fancy again. ]

Then, may I ask you a question related to something you brought up a moment ago? This is my personal curiosity more than professional, so you do not need to feel obligated to answer. But how old are you, Xion?

[ceded]

[ Was ... he going to offer her that? (What's the word... handkerchief?)

Xion sighs out through her nose, her expression softening slightly. She's ... really lucky that she met someone like him. Someone kind that she can trust, someone who won't mock her or treat her like she's worthless...

Pressing the heels of her palms into the chair besides her thighs, Xion tilts her head slightly, considering the question. She sounds a little uncertain when she answers, but not nearly as scared as before. ]

No, it's okay. I don't mind answering. I was created a little over a year ago. Actually... my birthday was on Friday, if I counted the days right. [ Her smile turns a little sad. ]

[sating]

[ There are technically two surprises here, though naturally one overshadows the other. He does look surprised when Xion says she's only a year old, but that's part of what he has to reconcile (or more accurately, brush away) as a part of the strangeness of this place. She's not human, and she's also extremely young, certainly looking impossibly older. But with the comparison of being a doll, he supposes that a doll is shaped to have a certain appearance. Age could factor into that.

Yet even with that surprise that certainly seems impossible to him, it's not what he focuses on, naturally. He addresses the smaller, more personable surprise. ]

Then happy birthday, Xion. I'm sorry that your celebration was— [ He trails off, seeming to think of a polite way to put it ] Perhaps not what one would hope for a birthday party.