[ GRAVEYARD ]

[sheriffexe]

GRAVEYARD

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.

QUICK NAV PRIVATE CONVERSATIONS | STATUSES | PROFILES | GRAVEYARD | MAIN NAVIGATION

Comments

[sating]

[ Understanding dawns on her face, and Hannibal is curious to see what she suddenly knows. It's wrong, he's sure, because people always were. He can't blame them for that, because it wasn't as if Hannibal were a man (or otherwise) that could be neatly understood and categorized. Though it was always interesting to see just what conclusions people drew about him.

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."

[robitussin]

[The pride and fondness in his voice makes her skin crawl, but more than that, it makes her heart pound faster. He has no right to sound like that, she thinks, after what happened. The letter he wrote her proves he knew what Will was going to do to her, she thinks.

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.]

[sating]

[ He thinks that her anger and fear coming more unbridled is because of the tone of his voice, but as she continues, he realizes that's not quite it. It may not have helped, but no, now she returns to the moment of her death. Or... He does wonder about that. Much to his disappointment, he hadn't been able to watch the kill itself. Only the consumption.

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. ]

[robitussin]

[When she found out he was the Deputy, she assumed everything he told her was a lie. Any concern, caring, or fondness must have been fabricated, planted there because he knew she was lonely and desperate for attention. Those things, at least, should have been easy to grasp from all the details she divulged to him in private. It meant that when she found out about him, the betrayal had stung like no other.

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.]

[sating]

[ He doesn't react at all as she retches and the cake comes back up, just watches with an interest that's almost dispassionate. To himself, he thinks that the reaction really is overblown, though he's seen it many times. The particular taboo of cannibalism was always a fascinating one, since it provoked such violent responses. Somehow, it was worse than death alone, which was a comparison he'd never quite agreed with. Though it may be because of how he had first gotten his taste. No one will ever know.

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 ]