So, you're dead. Shame, that.
But on the other hand, it's actually kind of nice.
When you "wake" in some odd version of it, you'll find yourself lying on a rather plush bed. It's cozy and warm and just soft enough to tempt anyone back into sleep. The room is equally nice, if small, and when you turn and open the curtains to look out the window, you will see... wait, is that the town?
It is, actually. The town is laid out quite simply across the window and no matter how many times you may bang or wave through the window, no one seems to notice you. If you're smart enough to give up the venture and leave the small bedroom, you will notice that, of course, you are on the train.
The train that, is actually pretty fancy.
Moving through it, past the sleeping cabins and through to the main carts, you will find a dining car with fine dishware and meals of all kinds made at a push of a button or a request given to the air. They'll appear, freshly made and ready to eat at the table of your choice with any drink you could want. There truly doesn't seem to be any limits when it comes to the luxury of the meal.
There is also a bathhouse car with private bathrooms and saunas to fit up to four. Even one rather large room containing a small pool/hot tub of sorts is available for just about anyone to take a dip. It's kind of outlandish, honestly.
Then the lounge car, with its library and plush armchairs and couches. A pool table, a darts board, even a small area dedicated to painting. There's a bar too, fully stocked and ready for anyone who needs a drink. All it would require is a request from the bartender who... looks surprisingly familiar?
The Sheriff is there, much cleaner cut than his counterpart outside of the train. He looks up mildly at any arrivals, giving them a nod of greeting before going back to organizing bottles or setting cigars out for a smoke. He doesn't seem to be surprised at all by anyone who appears. Just... ready to serve them, whatever they may wish.
It all sort of seems okay for a moment, until you realize you're just here to wait for the game to end. Awkward. |
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sheriffexe) wrote2017-01-13 11:14 am
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The hatred boils inside of her even as she decides on a question to ask, but in the end, what she brings forth is born of her own insecurities rather than his trangressions.
Quietly and without looking towards him, she speaks. There is a deep anger quaking in her voice, but it is more muted than it was a few moments ago.]
What you said in your letter...
[About her capacity to bear blood on her hands, her intrinsic ability to cause harm. She has suspected it was true all her life, and the fact that he knew enough to put it into words will gnaw at her no matter what he says.
Regardless, she has been tracing every conversation with him in her mind since she read those words. She cannot find the source of those assumptions no matter where her thoughts take her.]
Why did you think that about me?
no subject
[ His answer is simple, and probably infuriatingly so, but this is a nuance that Hannibal doesn't think she'll be able to accept easily. Even with patients that he has a more normal relationship, it's not an easy thing to explain in a way that's acceptable. To say "I've seen it many times before" comes off as callous and impersonal, and while that's something that Hannibal did sometimes go for... He doesn't want to with Natalie. ]
Surviving what you did took want to live. You had to earn your way, as the way the town is set up. If you were willing to do that, I knew that you would be willing to kill.
[ He lays it out simply, as if it were as obvious to him as if she had confessed a desire to do so. There's no hesitation, but no mocking or judgement in it either. It simply is. Though he does add one comment that he knows is likely to upset her, all things considered, but to him, it's a perfect explanation. ]
Just as I saw it in Will, I saw wrath in you.
no subject
Any one would have done the same thing she did given the same set of choices, she thinks, and yet she remembers the Sheriff telling her she was in the most interesting moral position in the game. She recalls Milla urging everyone to trust each other, to tell them about any plans they were making. Why didn't she? Is it because—
No, she shuts that thought down in favor of another. When her voice next emerges, it is as though she is being struck by a realization for the first time. His calm demeanor, the understanding in his letter, and the smile he fixed her with earlier... Her voice rises.]
You wanted this to happen, didn't you? You wanted to be right.
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Her voice rises, and it's met only with a soft, almost fond laugh. Hannibal sounds proud when he speaks. Not of himself, but of her. ]
I already knew I was right. There was no "want."
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Even the memory of it is where reason breaks, where the swelling emotion takes control. Nausea rises like a tide within her, steady and sure, but she isn't going to vomit. She sounds like a tea kettle about to erupt with steam, shrill and heated.]
Stop it. You don't get to sound like that when - when you knew what he was going to—
[It isn't accurate to say she trails off. She cuts herself off forcibly, because thinking of what happened any longer will surely make her gag.]
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Though here is where he takes a step back, because as the conversation turns to this, he'd rather not get vomit on him. He was probably safe before, but better safer than sorry. ]
I not only knew. I suggested it.
[ Because now that Natalie and so many others know the truth (or at least enough of it), they also get to meet a part of Hannibal that truly sticks with people and digs into their deepest fears with ease. There's always more with Hannibal, even when you think the surprises and horrors are done. ]
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And yet, somehow, this hurts even more. She no longer holds any delusions about the kind of person he is, but this - she did not expect this. There is no basis for it, no context that could have given her clues necessary to realize he could be that cruel. I would have saved you all the same, he had said, and so she had never thought he would have orchestrated something like that, no matter how despicable he is. Her hand is pressed to her mouth as she pales, but...
It really is a pity she ate all that cake, but at least he stepped back, because it's coming right back up as tears start to leak from her eyes again. This is unreal, it can't be happening. There has not been a moment this week that she hasn't felt completely overwhelmed, as if she's moving through a fever dream that has become reality.
Even once the contents of her stomach have been emptied, she continues dry heaving.]
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He takes another step back as if to leave, but he does say one more thing. ]
Just as the worshiper feels close to Christ in the Eucharist, eat in memory of the one you love.
[ It's what Will had said during the investigation, though neither of them know that. Perhaps Hannibal is quoting something here, or maybe he's referring to some other conversation. He doesn't elaborate, because he sees no need to. ]
Farewell, Natalie. I will not bother you any longer. [ He turns to leave, though before he goes, he does add: ] Though you are welcome to find Will and I yourself, of course.
[ But he's had his fun for the day, so he leaves with that. Moral of the story: never talk to Hannibal Lecter ]