I do appreciate you being 'round
Jul. 7th, 2013 02:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
iamsylarSylar is actually texting with David when Hannibal calls to let him know he'll be over. He doesn't let on about what he's been doing, but he smiles a private smile while they talk.
They've been texting since they "ran into each other" the day after he last saw Hannibal. David was so desperate for friendship that it hadn't been difficult to strike up a conversation with him at a cafe. Sylar had mentioned his psychiatrist in passing, and David had since gone on and on about what a coincidence it was that two of Hannibal's patients had met by chance.
He was such an idiot, and he texted far too often, but for the moment Sylar didn't mind.
They've been texting since they "ran into each other" the day after he last saw Hannibal. David was so desperate for friendship that it hadn't been difficult to strike up a conversation with him at a cafe. Sylar had mentioned his psychiatrist in passing, and David had since gone on and on about what a coincidence it was that two of Hannibal's patients had met by chance.
He was such an idiot, and he texted far too often, but for the moment Sylar didn't mind.
Not so self assured
Jul. 4th, 2013 10:24 pmrefinedpredatorHannibal opens the door of the shop for Sylar and steps in after him. The smell inside the store is like an instant balm to the senses--fine wool and polished leather combine in the high-ceilinged showroom and wash over them both. It's the kind of smell only money can buy.
Hannibal smiles and greets the shopkeeper cordially, introducing Sylar as a friend who needs a good suit. Only too happy to help one of his best customers, the man eagerly helps Sylar up onto a fitting block and starts taking his measurements.
"We could go with vicuna," he muses, running his tape measure along various points on Sylar's body, "but a classic look would really suit his frame better. I'd go with an English woolen. The drape will be much better across the shoulders."
Hannibal nods, looking Sylar over thoughtfully. "I agree. We want something that shrug off a stain, if necessary. Vicuna will fall apart at the first sign of dust." He looks up at Sylar, meeting his eyes with a little smile. "Sometimes his work can get a bit dirty."
Hannibal smiles and greets the shopkeeper cordially, introducing Sylar as a friend who needs a good suit. Only too happy to help one of his best customers, the man eagerly helps Sylar up onto a fitting block and starts taking his measurements.
"We could go with vicuna," he muses, running his tape measure along various points on Sylar's body, "but a classic look would really suit his frame better. I'd go with an English woolen. The drape will be much better across the shoulders."
Hannibal nods, looking Sylar over thoughtfully. "I agree. We want something that shrug off a stain, if necessary. Vicuna will fall apart at the first sign of dust." He looks up at Sylar, meeting his eyes with a little smile. "Sometimes his work can get a bit dirty."
Not just any body
Jul. 1st, 2013 07:55 pmrefinedpredatorHannibal sits back in his chair and sips at his wine. The meal he brought with him--and the Tupperware it travelled in--is mostly gone now, the plates scraped clean. It would have been easier bringing Sylar home, certainly, but he's not ready to do that. It's possible that he never will be. Sylar is too much like a younger version of himself for Hannibal to ever really trust him.
But not trusting him doesn't mean he can't enjoy him. Sylar ate everything Hannibal put on his plate, and has the satisfied look on his face that only comes from a full belly. Hannibal smiles at him over his wine glass. "Did you have enough to eat?"
But not trusting him doesn't mean he can't enjoy him. Sylar ate everything Hannibal put on his plate, and has the satisfied look on his face that only comes from a full belly. Hannibal smiles at him over his wine glass. "Did you have enough to eat?"
iamsylarThe best way to make sure he doesn't blow up New York is to leave New York, right? To leave his mother in the apartment they used to share, her blood soaking through the carpet that she vacuumed twice a day. To run away to find someone who might be able to help him.
He'd painted the carpet with her blood, and he'd expected to see the same explosion that covered the floor of Isaac's studio, but it wasn't an explosion. It was a face in front of a plaque that read Hannibal Lecter.
It was easy to find him. It was even easier to break into his office. He can remember a time when he'd be terrified to do something like this, when it would make his heart pound to do anything remotely illegal. Now, he's almost bored by it.
He doesn't touch anything, he just sits on the couch fiddling with a loose thread on his cardigan sleeve, waiting.
He'd painted the carpet with her blood, and he'd expected to see the same explosion that covered the floor of Isaac's studio, but it wasn't an explosion. It was a face in front of a plaque that read Hannibal Lecter.
It was easy to find him. It was even easier to break into his office. He can remember a time when he'd be terrified to do something like this, when it would make his heart pound to do anything remotely illegal. Now, he's almost bored by it.
He doesn't touch anything, he just sits on the couch fiddling with a loose thread on his cardigan sleeve, waiting.
mindonfireIt's dark when Will wakes up (had there been a sound or had he imagined it?), and he's not sure if it's night or early morning. Or perhaps the curtains are just closed. He begins to get up on the wrong side of the bed, thinking he's in his own room. Seeing the door in the wrong place is startling for a moment, and he has to mentally reconstruct the room around him. Hannibal's room, not his own.
He gets to his feet, his head pounding and hazy. He starts for the bathroom to wash off his face, start cooling down from the inescapable heat of sleep. The door is slightly open already, and his hand is on the doorknob before he realizes the shower's running. He can see the slightly foggy reflection in the mirror over the sink, and he draws in a sharp breath.
He should go back to the bed and wait until he hears the shower stop, but he just stands there, as if he's unable to move.
He gets to his feet, his head pounding and hazy. He starts for the bathroom to wash off his face, start cooling down from the inescapable heat of sleep. The door is slightly open already, and his hand is on the doorknob before he realizes the shower's running. He can see the slightly foggy reflection in the mirror over the sink, and he draws in a sharp breath.
He should go back to the bed and wait until he hears the shower stop, but he just stands there, as if he's unable to move.
Coming Home
Jun. 11th, 2013 06:42 pmrefinedpredatorHannibal steps into the house, glancing around surreptitiously as Will is distracted by an avalanche of excited dogs coming straight for him. There's a little blood on the carpet, but otherwise the scene is clean. The real mess took place out in a field, where Hannibal carefully harvested the only bits worth keeping from Will's abductor and left what remained strewn around for the wild animals.
He produces a bag of raw meat for the dogs, who all immediately take note of his presence and start whining in excitement. He smiles and holds up the bag to Will. "I'm afraid I've been spoiling your dogs. My butcher has been very kind with his leftovers."
He produces a bag of raw meat for the dogs, who all immediately take note of his presence and start whining in excitement. He smiles and holds up the bag to Will. "I'm afraid I've been spoiling your dogs. My butcher has been very kind with his leftovers."
mindonfireHe's at the latest crime scene, standing over the corpse in the bathtub. She has burns, some cuts, her eyes sunken slightly from dehydration. She went through hell before being placed here, but her death was peaceful. The kind of death that--
Then, he's somewhere else.
It's jarring. No matter how many times it's happened, it's still jarring. Maybe one day it'll happen often enough that it won't be, and the thought of that is terrifying.
He blinks up at the ceiling a few times, trying to get his bearings. It's not his ceiling, that much is obvious. It's not his bed. He's not alone.
He starts to turn on his side--he's always been more comfortable lying that way--but his body is sore all over. No, not just sore. Sharp pains along with the dull ones. He ends up only turning his head and quietly says, "You're here."
Then, he's somewhere else.
It's jarring. No matter how many times it's happened, it's still jarring. Maybe one day it'll happen often enough that it won't be, and the thought of that is terrifying.
He blinks up at the ceiling a few times, trying to get his bearings. It's not his ceiling, that much is obvious. It's not his bed. He's not alone.
He starts to turn on his side--he's always been more comfortable lying that way--but his body is sore all over. No, not just sore. Sharp pains along with the dull ones. He ends up only turning his head and quietly says, "You're here."
zilchJulian's spent the last couple of days using as little as he can to keep from getting sick, just so he could pounce on this opportunity when it came. He's never alone in a room with a phone if Rip can help it, but he's busy dealing with another whore that apparently tried to steal from him, and that means Bill's busy too and they'll both be busy for a while.
He finds the room furthest from where that's happening that has a phone, and he dials the number and sinks down to sit against the side of the bed whispering "Please pick up, please pick up."
He finds the room furthest from where that's happening that has a phone, and he dials the number and sinks down to sit against the side of the bed whispering "Please pick up, please pick up."
In which Rip looks after his property.
Aug. 4th, 2012 04:38 pmthe_dealerRip is by no means an idiot. He knew as soon as Specter asked for such a long stretch of time with Julian that it might be trouble. The money had been too good, though, and Rip was confident enough in his ability to control Julian at this point.
Still, he couldn't leave it to chance. Specter might try to make a run for it, and chasing people down was always costly and required more manpower than Rip wanted to expend just now. And he did try to avoid killing people when possible. So, he decides to make an appearance, Bill in tow, in the middle of the last day Specter had paid for.
He rings the doorbell and waits patiently, hands folded behind his back, Ray-bans concealing whatever his eyes might give away.
Still, he couldn't leave it to chance. Specter might try to make a run for it, and chasing people down was always costly and required more manpower than Rip wanted to expend just now. And he did try to avoid killing people when possible. So, he decides to make an appearance, Bill in tow, in the middle of the last day Specter had paid for.
He rings the doorbell and waits patiently, hands folded behind his back, Ray-bans concealing whatever his eyes might give away.
