For lastvoyages: Hallway Spam for Level 3

[cannibalmind]

 [A tiny girl pushes open the door to Hannibal Lecter's room. She is barefoot, in a pale ragged jumper and , her face smudged. For some reason there is a chain around her neck, which she sometimes tugs at uncomfortably. She looks around, then walks over to Mr. Pink's door and starts to knock on it shyly with a rather thin little fist.]

Comments

[likeaprofessional]

What? [Called from what sounds like across the room. He had just settled in with his second cup of coffee and fucking hell, he needed a Do Not Disturb sign asap. Now he's getting up anyway.] Hey, I'm trying to relax here as-

[Opens door and WHOAH CENSOR TIME. In fact, he's just going to stare, completely at a loss for any words. After a long moment he manages just one.] Hi...?

[aubergine_cherub]

[She peers up at him very solemnly, and then her face crumples slightly. Wibble. She tugs at the chain around her neck.] Um...

Could you help me get this off?

[likeaprofessional]

[Only then does he glance down and notice the chain for the first time.] What the hell? Geez, yeah, sure.

[He kneels and very gently, more scared to touch the kid than the chain itself, removes it and sets it aside. After a pause, he quickly grabs his communicator from a nearby counter and records a message for his warden. That done, he turns back to her.]

You can come in, I guess. Don't have nothin' for ya, but it's better than the hallways.

[aubergine_cherub]

Thank you sir. [She rubs her chafed neck and makes a little face, but doesn't cry.]

[She follows him in, and peeks around only a little before blinking up at him.]

You are Brother's neighbor. I hope he's been behaving.

[likeaprofessional]

[The room is a typical hotel room that has seen better days, hell probably better decades. A recliner that has a fair share of duct tape attached, a bed and a small desk by the chair is all that decorates the room. On the desk he's tossed his small stash of smokes and there's one or two razors. Enough out of her reach, he figures.]

Brother... [Brain goes click.] You're Hannibal's sis? [Pause.] Kid, how old are you?

[aubergine_cherub]

[She nods eagerly, brightening at the mere mention of him.] Yes. Um...[she frowns, she knows this one.] I am three years old, sir.

[likeaprofessional]

[...Three. Holy shit. Don't take a genius to notice the incredible age gap between the siblings. Hell, he didn't even know the cannibal had a sister.]

Oh. Figured as much. Gotta say, you talk better than most three year olds I've meet. Most speak gibberish. [He was having a conversation with a baby. His mind couldn't get past this fact. What does one talk with a kid about, anyway? Christ, he could use a cigarette right now. But, shit, he remembers Hannibal threatening him... No, smokes can wait.]

So, uh... yeah. Hannibal has been doing good. I suppose.

At some point. On level 3.

[wemaketheworld]

[Rorschach's been wandering, getting a feel for the latest disruption. The new faces, the missing ones. The general increase in disorganization among general population.

...The child, however, catches him off-guard, and he spends a few long moments just regarding her with a combination of curiosity and a flickering sense of concern he tries to suppress.

It won't end anywhere good, he should quash the fleeting feeling before it settles.]

At some point. On level 3.

[aubergine_cherub]

[She notices him, and looks back at him very solemnly, looking just as haggard in her own way as he. Then she raises her hand and waves hi.]

[wemaketheworld]

[The lines in his face tense, clearly uncomfortable, but he waves back, cautiously, a slight stiff twitch of fingers and a gruff "hello" to accompany it.]

[aubergine_cherub]

Are you lost, sir? [She can't maintain solemnface very long.]

[wemaketheworld]

No. Live here.

[A pause.]

Are you?

[aubergine_cherub]

No sir. I'm here for my brother. I need to leave him a message but I cannot write.

At some point

[washerlocket]

[Merope was wandering the halls with an expression that seems almost a little lost. So many of the people whom she like have changed and it's frustrating for her. When she spots the little girl, Merope moves onto her knees, so she's eyelevel with her.]

Are you alright?

At some point

[aubergine_cherub]

[Mischa blinks and then gazes at Merope's face very solemnly. She nods. Then asks] Did you get away from the bad men too?

[washerlocket]

[For a moment, Merope looks at the girl and just nods.]

Yes. They can't hurt you here. What's your name?

[aubergine_cherub]

Mischa Lecter, Ma'am. I am here for my brother Hannibal.

[washerlocket]

I'm Merope. [She smiles at the girl and touches her forehead.]

How old are you, Mischa?

[aubergine_cherub]

[Mischa giggles, and then holds up two fingers and a thumb.] I am three years old.

They have berries in the kitchen. [This is terribly important.]

Late Morning, Second Day

[surfaceshine]

[So, this is going to happen. The hunter is well on his way to either being okay with how things are going, or sinking deeper into his silent panic; both look the same on the surface, though he's distracted by his communicator as he moves up the floors on his way to the dining hall. Luckily he's not moving quickly, as we're pretty sure he's going to want to stop very, very soon.]

Late Morning, Second Day

[aubergine_cherub]

Hello sir! [Cute kid, chafed neck and slightly bulging tummy ahoy! She's gotten into the Doctor's art supplies and is all smudgy.]

Late Morning, Second Day

[surfaceshine]

[What the hell is that? Okay, obviously Dean knows what that is, but what the hell is it doing here? He glanced down in annoyance when he nearly ran over some movement noted in his peripheral, and has now gone very, very still in case it attacks.]

...um. Hi. [Okay, after a few blinks, the hunter seems to have caught up.] What're you doin' here, sweetheart? [He crouches so he's not towering over her.]

Late Morning, Second Day

[aubergine_cherub]

Hello. Are you a solider? [She peers up at him very gravely.]

Late Morning, Second Day

[surfaceshine]

[This close up, noting the chafing around her neck, Dean starts to frown; he settles into his crouch, cocking his head to one side gently while he tries to figure out what to do with his hands right now. He's surprised by the question.]

No, I'm not. Do you need help?

Late Morning, Second Day

[aubergine_cherub]

That's funny. You're nice but you have soldier face. And you're lumpy.

I am Mischa. I am all right but I get lost sometimes. People have been nice.