snowblindrpg | Event: Consolidation Theory, Part Four and Five

[ Inwardly, Will was cursing quite vehemently.

Outwardly, he remained curious ... almost serene as he watched Hannibal look past him, seeing so much more than the dim corridor beyond the bars. The feral smile stirred memories of being both prey and predator in return. He held his ground, even as a small shiver of awareness ran down his spine.

But he didn't move. ]

Make it stop, Hannibal. [ He asked/commanded/asked in that same calm voice. ] I know it's tempting to embrace it. To watch the beauty of the catastrophe unfold; the capricious will of God.

[ Not unlike what had been done to all of them here. ]

His name, is Robert Miller. [ He said softly, drawing together the image of a target that could be focused upon, rather than tearing plaster and stone down upon innocents. ] You heard his voice. [ He's guessing, but hoping it is in the right direction, trying to walk Hannibal back to Norfinbury. ] When he said "Well, THAT didn't work."

[The rumbling increased, bits of ceiling began to break loose and rain down over them, and as Hannibal looked out over the harbor, the sea began to draw back from the shore, the ocean taking a breath before the tsunami.

Make it stop, Hannibal.

Did he want it to stop? When the main shockwave hit and the roof came crashing down, then there was freedom. His careful rational self, the one who sought out the beauty in the darkness, who killed to create, would be buried beneath the rubble, one of the hundred thousand souls lost on that All Saint's Day. What was left would be as capricious and brutal as God himself, yes, but he would be free.

But the stones wouldn't just crush him. They would also crush Will. In his mind, his lover would be buried in the rubble as well, but in the real world, Hannibal would kill Will on the spot, likely by tearing his friend's throat out with his teeth, simple and quick and brutal. Will's request/order that Hannibal make it stop would have been meaningless from anyone else. But this...

Hannibal had surrendered his freedom for his love of Will. More than once.

The withdrawal of the sea slowed.]

Who is Robert Miller?

[ Will was definitely doing his best to keep Hannibal's attention on him, and also to block the older man from view of anyone passing by the cell. He was all too aware how precarious his position was, the risk that Hannibal would succumb to the crashing ceiling and take Will with him.

The irony of the possibility might have been amusing, were there not other innocents trapped in here with them. Will had succumb to his darkness and taken Hannibal with him; now they were back on that cliff top and the roles reversed.

But every breath that passed, without the older predator striking at him, was precious time indeed. Time for Hannibal to come to his a conclusion not tied to the horror they had just endured and time for Will to keep reaching out. Perhaps not physically, though he started to lift a hand, only to lower it when he remembered his fingers were fully encased in bandages.

Alright ... voice it was then. ]

Good question. I've never interacted with him directly, at least not before now. What I remember of the guide, it's written that [ Will half closed his eyes, calling him the snippet he'd read when he'd first arrived. ]

A man in employ of an American company in charge of Norfinbury who has proven to be dangerous and uncaring of causing suffering to people trapped here. He is apparently human and vocal against Winter.

But I've heard his voice on recordings. It was him speaking, after everything that happened.

[The church where Hannibal stood was hushed, still, the bits of debris shaken loose from the ceiling suspended in mid air as time came to a stop, the minute hand halfway to 9:40 AM, the time that had brought and would bring utter annihilation.]

Has anyone ever seen him?

[Is this a useless quest, Will? Can the man be reached, stopped, brought to a swift and bloody justice that the two of them could both be satisfied with? Or was he nothing but an echo, nothing but a voice, a program, little twitches of electrons in disintegrating wires? Where they could do nothing more than uselessly shake their fists?]

Edited 2018-04-26 03:35 (UTC)

[ Will could taste the risk in that simple question. He could see the almost feral need for a target in Hannibal's eyes, more maroon than Will could ever remember them.

If he could have pointed Hannibal towards Miller, Will would have been hard pressed to restrain himself. Even if Miller might end up being vital to their ultimate escape from this hell.

But it was an academic thought. He didn't have the answer Hannibal wanted, and Will was going to have to try to keep his lover from exploding in a blind rage. ]

No. [ He answered, honestly and directly. ] But people have heard from him and his response in all of [ Will turned and motioned with a mitted hand ] this proves he's here, somewhere.

I suspect he's where we all need to get too in order to escape this, Hannibal. We get there? We'll find him.

[ And then Will was inclined to just let the chips fall where they may. ]

[Hannibal was silent. The church was silent. The roof above them was cracked, the stones falling, millimeter my millimeter. The sea began to rear up in the harbor, a wave that welled upwards to the sky.

As Hannibal turned to his friend in the chapel, he slowly pushed away from the wall of the cell. He reached out to touch Will's face; he reached out for Will's throat, fingers brushing along the raw marks made by the collar, thumb coming to rest right above his Adam's apple.

Would Will stand with him, even as the world came down around their ears? Would he trust him, even when Hannibal had his hand at his throat?]

[ As was so often the case, there was a preternatural calm to Will in this moment of extreme danger. He might not be able to withstand pain, the way Hannibal could but he did have the ability to stare down Death with a genuine steadiness.

As his lover's hand closed around his throat, Will only arched an eyebrow. ]

I can't stop you. [ He said in a soft, steady voice and he slowly raised his heavily bandaged hands. ] You have the advantage, like you did in Italy after Chiyoh shot me.

[ The most recent event in their lives when Hannibal had been in a position to destroy Will. ]

Will you play God? Like Miller does?

[Hannibal arched his own eyebrow, an echo of his friend.]

You could leave.

[He wouldn't stop him from leaving the chapel. Couldn't stop him from leaving the cell, considering Hannibal's current condition. Would he still be destroyed as Lisbon shook to pieces then was swallowed whole by the ocean? When a feral Hannibal tore through everything and everyone? Probably. But he would have a chance. And it would be far from personal.

If Hannibal were to trust, to follow Will, would Will trust and follow in return?]

And go where? [ Will said softly. ] I can no more leave this cell block than you can, and you can go to all the places I can.

[ He looked at him calmly. He would stand here with Hannibal, he wouldn't leave his friend a victim of his own feral rage. ]

I don't kill innocents, Hannibal. You know that. My target is the man who is hurting; all of us. [ He spoke softly and clearly. ] If you truly mean to tear through every victim of Miller's, while ultimately allowing him to get away with his ... rudeness, then you are best served to start with me.

[Hannibal blinked.

And was there, in the cell, with Will. Called back from doomed medieval Lisbon, from senseless death and destruction. Drawn forth by reason and meaning and purpose, the ability to see a way forward, to begin to plan anew, move by move.

He released Will's throat and instead wrapped his arms around him, drawing him close and holding him tightly.]

[ Through it all, until the moment Hannibal came back to him, Will remained calm. If his lover destroyed him, then it would be a fitting conclusion to their story. At least Hannibal would be quick about it, not this drawn out torture being performed upon them all.

But then, between one breath and the next, Will saw Hannibal return, flooding dark eyes and shifting out some of the maroon. When his lover reached for him, Will was already moving into his arms, wrapping his arm around him but carefully holding his bandaged hands away.

Burying his face against the older man's shoulder, Will simply breathed out the one word. ]

Hannibal.

Will.

[Hannibal cradled his lover's head against his shoulder and leaned his cheek against the younger man's hair, closing his eyes, allowing himself to sink into Will's warmth. It was impossible to ignore the scent that clung to his friend, even with his nose still reeling from being stuffed with mold and then leaking fluid from his forceful vomiting. He could smell blood, injury, the sharp tang of recent extreme pain. He remembered the way Will's hands were bandaged.]

What did they do to you?

[ The feel of Hannibal's hand against the back of his head was the signal Will needed, both consciously and subconsciously, to set down the front he had been holding up as he tried to help those around them. He still held on tight to Hannibal, offering his own strength to his lover even as he sank into the comfort his the older man's embrace.

The question earned Hannibal a small shake of the head against his shoulder, his words muffled against the side of the doctor's throat. ]

They didn't do anything to me. This is all on Miller.

[ He would keep reiterating that point, both to Hannibal but also to those who wore the red lines and the marks of the same sort of trauma in all of this. It was Miller, Miller was the target.

Also ... Will wasn't ready to consider his own injuries too closely. His mind working overtime to disassociate from the personal trauma. ]

What ... what do you remember happening to you? [ He couldn't run his hands over Hannibal's body, to check for injury and Will knew very well how well the older man could hide away his injuries. ]

[Whether or not they did so entirely of their own free will, the actions were still carried out by those who were marked. Still, Hannibal was not going to argue with his friend. It was clear Will did not wish to bring his trauma to mind, and Hannibal would not fault him for that. Will's question drew a sigh from his lips, and he stroked Will's hair as he considered how to answer.]

They seem to have been in a frenzy. They tore at each other as much as at me.

Fits with what I experienced. [ Will shared, still with his face against Hannibal's throat. ]

In many ways, they were more violent towards each other than they were to me. Some of what they did was horrific, but was done almost ... [ he paused and considered how to explain it. ]

When they were stuffing the blood and soap soaked tissue down my throat, it was almost like they were trying to feed me.

For me, it was mold. But the intent seemed to be the same.

[His voice was quiet and calm, but Will could well imagine how having rancid mold shoved into Hannibal's mouth (and nose, and eyes) would have affected the older man, considering his heightened senses.]

[ Yes, he could indeed. Not just those heightened senses being abuse, but flashes back to the past; the rooms in his memory palace that were on lock down. The places he couldn't go.

Leaning back slightly, Will reached up and gently cradled Hannibal's face between his bandaged hands. ]

Whatever is happening in this place, it needs to end. It needs to end and we will end it, Hannibal. I promise you that.

[ Will was no longer disposed to retain any mercy for Miller. ]

[His freedom, his senses, his mind violated, all these things that were so important to Hannibal. Add to that the torture they had put Will through? He was never one for mercy, but in this case he would be inclined toward slow cruelty.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead on Will's, closing his eyes.]

Yes. Yes we shall.

[ For a moment we'll just stood there and soaked in the feel of Hannibal's forehead against his own. It it was a comfort that he realized he had been searching for and he wasn't inclined to give it up quickly.

With his forehead still against Hannibal's, and his hands still cradling his lover's face Will took a deep breath and inquired softly. ]

Have you seen anyone else here?

I've been checking on some of the cells. Those of us without red lines appear to be able to move freely within the cell block, but those with red lines are still held in their cells by some sort of unseen barrier.

[Will's presence and closeness was a balm to Hannibal's soul as well, and he was inclined to maintain it a little longer. So when Will asked his question he remained still as he answered.]

I must admit I have not been out of this cell.

[He had not been in any condition to explore when Will found him.]

[ It was probably for the best that Hannibal hadn't walked out and encountered anyone while the church was at risk of crumbling. Moving to rest his hands against Hannibal's shoulders, Will took a deep breath and gathered himself. ]

Watson could use your help. [ He said quietly. ] I did what I could for him, I even talked briefly to Sherlock, but I think he needs more support that what I could offer.

[ And while Sherlock was ... Sherlock, he was ... Sherlock ]

Event: Consolidation Theory, Part Four and Five

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