Dr. Hannibal Lecter

 [Hannibal can't sleep. His mind is full of conflicting thoughts and for once he cannot suppress or distract himself from them. Favorable progress reports were all very well and good, but now he is dealing with the implications of what graduation might actually mean.]

[He knows--has always known--that certain Wardens past and present will naturally be opposed to his graduation. Not so much because of him per se, but because his graduation will earn the T-X her Deal. He can understand their fears on an intellectual basis, but he has no sympathy for them. He must graduate, he must become someone whom his sister will not be afraid of, and he must earn back her life. There is no room for considering the protests of others. No more than there is room to consider his own internal protests. This is simply too important.]

[He does not relish the reaction that will likely come at his graduation, however. And he is concerned about fitting in with the Warden population when the time came. His past is a matter of public record here. And many of the Wardens are narrow-minded and unforgiving. Yet...many are not. He tries to consider the issue as he walks, calculating against his vast store of observations about his Bargemates. Apparent motivations. Potential reactions. Potential hazards.]

[He paces slowly down the halls, sturdy wooden cane in hand, face schooled to mild thoughtfulness...maroon eyes gleaming with little red sparks.]

 [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.]