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
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."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
infomodder) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2016-12-04 05:35 pm
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.