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

[aubergine_cherub]

[She points to the elevator.] You go in there and push the button with one line on it and it goes up.

[wemaketheworld]

[A brief nod, and he stands, tucking the note away in a pocket for safekeeping.]

Little more complicated. But yes.

[aubergine_cherub]

Let's go then. [She doesn't take his hand, but toddles along beside him at a close proximity, but not underfoot.]

[wemaketheworld]

[He wouldn't let her get underfoot anyway; he's watching her like a hawk, acutely aware of where she is at every moment. He lets her in first then follows, waits for her to push the button (if she wants; if she can't/won't he'll do it himself easily enough), and though he has the feeling there's something he should say he hasn't a clue. So he keeps quiet.]

[aubergine_cherub]

[She peeeeeers up at the button and then remembers she is supposed to push it. Her tongue pokes out of the corner of her mouth and she reaches up and gives it a poke.]

People here have been good.

[wemaketheworld]

[She's a child, of course they have been; everything else about criminals aside, all but the worst ones harbor some kind of soft spot for children.]

Met many of them?

[aubergine_cherub]

Mr. Pink and Miss Claire and Miss Angie and Mr. Dean and Del Boy and...and...um...I forgot. [More finger chewing.] I'm sorry.

[wemaketheworld]

[A brief headshake and a grunt.]

S'okay.

[The elevator finds the floor, and wander wander wander, Rorschach always careful to follow while watching ahead of them, and soon enough they find their way to the dining hall. A glance around and he kind of ushers her towards the snack table; it's not much, but he won't steal from the kitchens.]

Between meals right now. Apologies.

[Not that he knows what she wants anyway. What does she eat? Children: what do.]

[aubergine_cherub]

Fruit! [She toddles over to the table and starts happily (and messily) stuffing her face. Meals? She's forgotten what those are mostly. Her manner is that of someone for whom eating regularly is an amazing luxury.]