WHO: Will Graham and folks WHERE: All over WHEN: Month of December WHAT: catch all for stuff in December WARNINGS: general warning for Hannibal applies; will update if needed
Will didn't intend to be around when that happened. From the looks of it, Crane would play his part, and Will would play his. It would be a wholly dull affair so Crane could be let loose as soon as possible. The best way for things to go, really; Will wouldn't want to be under more eyes than usual for longer than necessary, either. Chilton wasn't wrong. Crane was Will's type in plenty of ways.
He figured Chilton would come to the same conclusion. Right now they weren't just talking about Crane. Right now, sneering and clawed he might have been, that concern leaked through. Like ice water soaking fabric and heading right into his veins, he could absolutely feel it, threatening to stop his heart, harden the thing further. This was genuine, too, and he'd asked for it without being the least bit prepared.
"You worry too much," he said, quietly, less stern than before. Touched, one might think. "He'll want to get this over with no muss no fuss. I'll facilitate that. He won't have a reason to gnash his teeth and I won't have a reason to gnash right back."
Emergency procedure: act as a mirror, except a bit furrier. Chilton could wait for another breakfast to get that update. Possibly.
"But. You should know. Just in case..." In case something happened. In case Crane decided he wanted more surveillance for longer. In case he decided to see how Will changed when push came to shove. "You should know."
"So you are telling me this not as a cry for implicit approval, not for permission, but as your safe word. Your emergency switch -- just in case."
Chilton gave his head just the slightest of tilts, his gaze still locked onto Will's face. Graham was subtle; it was better to maximize the observations of any microscopic twitches. One of the reason as to why people of Chilton's profession prized the man so dearly.
"You see, I am sure, why I might find that worrisome."
Exasperation tinted with a morning mimosa; Chilton was sometimes a parody of himself.
"I suppose it could be worse," he mused. "Your newest interest could have involved someone from back home -- that would give me qualified reason for worry, as even you must admit."
Will twitched, just a bit, at the idea of approval. The sort that moved eyebrow and tightened jaw. Easy to miss but there just the same. The twitch of disapproval. Whether at the idea (permission, too!) or because Chilton had nailed him wasn't obvious. Just that his words did a bit of digging, verbal ticks rooting around.
Someone from back home. Then all tension was gone, replaced with a slight deflating. He sat a centimeter lower in his seat. His lips turned down. Even his eyes dropped. Relaxed but in his own exasperated way. Not grief, but a reminder of what had been lost to them both, quite possibly forever, resting atop his mind once more.
Will sighed, equal parts tired and fond, as if woken up by one of the dogs yet again.
"We've been fortunate in that regard, I will admit. We shouldn't jinx ourselves." Speak not of the beast's disappearance lest the beast appear. Then again, maybe they'd be blessed with someone else...then again, there were plenty of someone elses they'd be better off without. Like playing Russian roulette with half the chambers full. Despite the fact Will had died, he thought they had (had the potential for, perhaps) a good thing going. At least playing emergency switches for each other would never come at the steep costs Hannibal could and would inevitably enact in a world such as this. "I was serious about breakfast, Frederick. Assumed you were serious about mimosas."
There was a lilt of question present, not enough to really hit the ears of anyone who didn't know him but enough that Chilton would surely pick up on it. Especially since he combined hunger and thirst with a raised hand, looking about to signal waitstaff.
Chilton wasn't a superstitious man by nature, and perhaps a bit of personal disdain lingered in his tone. His acceptance of magic in this world came with the evidence that had been provided; imPorts were capable of the impossible. He believed it once he witnessed it. Perhaps in a different setting the doctor would quibble over the terminology, but in this land of enchantment, the word rang true.
Mocking Hannibal's absence, however? Or the absence of their other mutual acquaintances? Even tasteful mocking -- he did not believe he was tempting fate. But then again, Chilton never believed that he was tempting fate.
"Ah."
Chilton took Will's final words as an end to that line of conversation. It wasn't long before a waitstaff took note of Will's pretty face, and came over to assist in any preferences. Only when they were alone again did Chilton nod at his company.
"I won't prod the issue," he said, a statement in of itself meant to ignore any plea for denial.
It was always in those moments one least expected fate to feel a tug of challenge when that happened. Fate, like Hannibal Lecter, could be an extremely petty shit more often than not. Going out for breakfast, just the two of them, could have been tempting fate. Somehow. Maybe fate just craved attention and felt neglected...
Said pretty face was absolutely inclined to let Chilton lead. This was far more his element than hobo chic Will Graham's, he wasn't ashamed to acknowledge that. His preferences were set to mirror. But, like, a very plain and normal mirror of Chilton's, nothing too fancy. Will had a reputation to keep up and a belly that would have been fine with just scrambled eggs and grits.
A statement met with a bit of a smile and a nod, rather warm acceptance on a pretty face that didn't seem quite used to it. To divert from anything else, however, and to get on a track that he believed Chilton himself would enjoy quite a lot, Will began to put a napkin in his lap and asked:
"How was the move? You enjoy it here better than Heropa?"
He asked about Chilton. Normal, simple things. Polite, friendly conversation. Nothing dark or torturous. Like they were two ordinary men who had their ups and downs but certainly no looming concerns about foods, about their bodies, about their devils. Just out for breakfast like regular people.
"I enjoy the privacy more, yes. Fewer opportunities for aggressive individuals breaking into my home," he said, unaware of the dramatic irony looming. It wouldn't be too long before the man in black took a fancy to Doctor Frederick Chilton. "Are you still satisfied with Heropa?"
He hadn't intended for it to come out like a plea for company. That was simply how Chilton communicated; loneliness was its own dialect.
"I will admit, it is odd not seeing Jeff on a weekly basis."
Odd. He didn't qualify that statement with any specific negative or positive feelings. A quick look at Will, as if that glance would determine the notoriously-difficult-to-read-man's underflow of emotions. Unsurprisingly, Chilton found himself at a loss. There was a conversation beneath the one they spoke, one full of quiet pauses and twitches and topic changes.
"Has Crane contacted your circle? Your people. Out of curiosity."
Will nodded, pleased with this lighter conversation. He would be satisfied with Heropa until Mitch planted the idea that April might want to be in DC later on. Then he'd just worry if he had missed signs all along, and plan to move in case April really wanted that. But they wouldn't be able to move everyone, at least, not unless they wanted to as well, and the idea of being able to agree with that — odd not to see Jeff on a weekly basis — would strike him like hunger pains. A potential future bit of grief Baltimore could bond over.
Oh no. They were doing so well. Or maybe they weren't. Maybe they were just pretending they could move past blood and breath and bone and be normal. Ish.
"Not that I know of," he said, what smile he had dropping, Will's body language morphing into more of a slump. Legitimately bogged down by all the crazy sons of bitches around them, weren't they? "Unless he's contacted you. Have you been in contact with each other?"
Casual, light, void of any aggression, any demanding. Chilton didn't have to answer this question if he didn't want to, but he must have known that Will could go to the other party and find out either way if he really wanted to, so why come across as any sort of forceful? No point.
Crane had, in fact, been in contact with Chilton. The psychiatrist gave a light shrug in response -- a non-answer that was nearly a shout.
"You consider me to be your people?"
A deflection. Chilton wasn't condescending enough to think that Will wouldn't see right through it; maybe a time ago he would have courted such arrogance concerning the man sitting before him, but not today. Not now.
"I know how to watch myself," he concluded. It was as much of a confession as he was willing to indulge. "You and I have already played his little game, haven't we? So has Raina... But there are others who might not be as equipped to his particular breed of cruelty."
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maskormenacelogs2016-12-04 05:35 pm
no subject
He figured Chilton would come to the same conclusion. Right now they weren't just talking about Crane. Right now, sneering and clawed he might have been, that concern leaked through. Like ice water soaking fabric and heading right into his veins, he could absolutely feel it, threatening to stop his heart, harden the thing further. This was genuine, too, and he'd asked for it without being the least bit prepared.
"You worry too much," he said, quietly, less stern than before. Touched, one might think. "He'll want to get this over with no muss no fuss. I'll facilitate that. He won't have a reason to gnash his teeth and I won't have a reason to gnash right back."
Emergency procedure: act as a mirror, except a bit furrier. Chilton could wait for another breakfast to get that update. Possibly.
"But. You should know. Just in case..." In case something happened. In case Crane decided he wanted more surveillance for longer. In case he decided to see how Will changed when push came to shove. "You should know."
no subject
Chilton gave his head just the slightest of tilts, his gaze still locked onto Will's face. Graham was subtle; it was better to maximize the observations of any microscopic twitches. One of the reason as to why people of Chilton's profession prized the man so dearly.
"You see, I am sure, why I might find that worrisome."
Exasperation tinted with a morning mimosa; Chilton was sometimes a parody of himself.
"I suppose it could be worse," he mused. "Your newest interest could have involved someone from back home -- that would give me qualified reason for worry, as even you must admit."
no subject
Someone from back home. Then all tension was gone, replaced with a slight deflating. He sat a centimeter lower in his seat. His lips turned down. Even his eyes dropped. Relaxed but in his own exasperated way. Not grief, but a reminder of what had been lost to them both, quite possibly forever, resting atop his mind once more.
Will sighed, equal parts tired and fond, as if woken up by one of the dogs yet again.
"We've been fortunate in that regard, I will admit. We shouldn't jinx ourselves." Speak not of the beast's disappearance lest the beast appear. Then again, maybe they'd be blessed with someone else...then again, there were plenty of someone elses they'd be better off without. Like playing Russian roulette with half the chambers full. Despite the fact Will had died, he thought they had (had the potential for, perhaps) a good thing going. At least playing emergency switches for each other would never come at the steep costs Hannibal could and would inevitably enact in a world such as this. "I was serious about breakfast, Frederick. Assumed you were serious about mimosas."
There was a lilt of question present, not enough to really hit the ears of anyone who didn't know him but enough that Chilton would surely pick up on it. Especially since he combined hunger and thirst with a raised hand, looking about to signal waitstaff.
no subject
Chilton wasn't a superstitious man by nature, and perhaps a bit of personal disdain lingered in his tone. His acceptance of magic in this world came with the evidence that had been provided; imPorts were capable of the impossible. He believed it once he witnessed it. Perhaps in a different setting the doctor would quibble over the terminology, but in this land of enchantment, the word rang true.
Mocking Hannibal's absence, however? Or the absence of their other mutual acquaintances? Even tasteful mocking -- he did not believe he was tempting fate. But then again, Chilton never believed that he was tempting fate.
"Ah."
Chilton took Will's final words as an end to that line of conversation. It wasn't long before a waitstaff took note of Will's pretty face, and came over to assist in any preferences. Only when they were alone again did Chilton nod at his company.
"I won't prod the issue," he said, a statement in of itself meant to ignore any plea for denial.
no subject
Said pretty face was absolutely inclined to let Chilton lead. This was far more his element than hobo chic Will Graham's, he wasn't ashamed to acknowledge that. His preferences were set to mirror. But, like, a very plain and normal mirror of Chilton's, nothing too fancy. Will had a reputation to keep up and a belly that would have been fine with just scrambled eggs and grits.
A statement met with a bit of a smile and a nod, rather warm acceptance on a pretty face that didn't seem quite used to it. To divert from anything else, however, and to get on a track that he believed Chilton himself would enjoy quite a lot, Will began to put a napkin in his lap and asked:
"How was the move? You enjoy it here better than Heropa?"
He asked about Chilton. Normal, simple things. Polite, friendly conversation. Nothing dark or torturous. Like they were two ordinary men who had their ups and downs but certainly no looming concerns about foods, about their bodies, about their devils. Just out for breakfast like regular people.
no subject
He hadn't intended for it to come out like a plea for company. That was simply how Chilton communicated; loneliness was its own dialect.
"I will admit, it is odd not seeing Jeff on a weekly basis."
Odd. He didn't qualify that statement with any specific negative or positive feelings. A quick look at Will, as if that glance would determine the notoriously-difficult-to-read-man's underflow of emotions. Unsurprisingly, Chilton found himself at a loss. There was a conversation beneath the one they spoke, one full of quiet pauses and twitches and topic changes.
"Has Crane contacted your circle? Your people. Out of curiosity."
no subject
Oh no. They were doing so well. Or maybe they weren't. Maybe they were just pretending they could move past blood and breath and bone and be normal. Ish.
"Not that I know of," he said, what smile he had dropping, Will's body language morphing into more of a slump. Legitimately bogged down by all the crazy sons of bitches around them, weren't they? "Unless he's contacted you. Have you been in contact with each other?"
Casual, light, void of any aggression, any demanding. Chilton didn't have to answer this question if he didn't want to, but he must have known that Will could go to the other party and find out either way if he really wanted to, so why come across as any sort of forceful? No point.
no subject
"You consider me to be your people?"
A deflection. Chilton wasn't condescending enough to think that Will wouldn't see right through it; maybe a time ago he would have courted such arrogance concerning the man sitting before him, but not today. Not now.
"I know how to watch myself," he concluded. It was as much of a confession as he was willing to indulge. "You and I have already played his little game, haven't we? So has Raina... But there are others who might not be as equipped to his particular breed of cruelty."
Chilton meant April, of course he did.