Dr. Hannibal Lecter (
tablewithoutpity) wrote in
hadriel_logs2017-05-12 12:33 pm
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Entry tags:
Coeur de mon amie [closed]
Who: Hannibal, Will, and later Jill
What: Murder, at long last
Where: Down by the lake
When: During the confusion around the door opening
Warnings: Lovingly rendered violence, death and cannibalism
Never one to act impulsively, Hannibal had been carefully constructing his persona in Hadriel, tailoring his mansuit stitch by stitch, so that people saw him as a doctor, as a chef, as someone to be trusted and confided in. Likewise he had been building up Will's trust and confidence in him, as well as deepening their relationship, as friends, yes, but as something else, something more intrinsic that resonated in their hearts and souls. Hannibal was satisfied with what he had accomplished, and had been looking for an opportunity to sate an appetite that had been waiting, thrumming beneath the surface of his facade. The need for violence and death, the hunger for flesh and the thirst for blood. And what better way to begin than with his beloved? Consuming Will's flesh would draw the man even deeper into Hannibal's being. And since he would be resurrected, Hannibal could literally have his friend and eat him too.
The opportunity presented itself with the controversy over which gods should be sent on the reconnaissance mission. Will had angered quite a few people with his public assertion that Hope should be one of those sent out. Others had just as publicly vowed violence against anyone who would vote that way...it made for quite a convenient motive, especially considering Will's death would throw him on the mercy of that very god. There were, of course, other potential suspects, particularly Maketh. No one would suspect Hannibal, however, Will's devoted friend, who clearly loved the man and had no quarrel with him. Hannibal would be properly sorrowful that Will had been murdered, and properly overjoyed when he returned.
Will had a tendency to seek solitude, in this case going down to the lake to fish and to care for his pets. It was the perfect place for the perfect murder. Hannibal made his way down to where his friend was, careful to not be seen by his soon-to-be victim. If things went as planned, even Will himself would not know that Hannibal was his murderer.
What: Murder, at long last
Where: Down by the lake
When: During the confusion around the door opening
Warnings: Lovingly rendered violence, death and cannibalism
Never one to act impulsively, Hannibal had been carefully constructing his persona in Hadriel, tailoring his mansuit stitch by stitch, so that people saw him as a doctor, as a chef, as someone to be trusted and confided in. Likewise he had been building up Will's trust and confidence in him, as well as deepening their relationship, as friends, yes, but as something else, something more intrinsic that resonated in their hearts and souls. Hannibal was satisfied with what he had accomplished, and had been looking for an opportunity to sate an appetite that had been waiting, thrumming beneath the surface of his facade. The need for violence and death, the hunger for flesh and the thirst for blood. And what better way to begin than with his beloved? Consuming Will's flesh would draw the man even deeper into Hannibal's being. And since he would be resurrected, Hannibal could literally have his friend and eat him too.
The opportunity presented itself with the controversy over which gods should be sent on the reconnaissance mission. Will had angered quite a few people with his public assertion that Hope should be one of those sent out. Others had just as publicly vowed violence against anyone who would vote that way...it made for quite a convenient motive, especially considering Will's death would throw him on the mercy of that very god. There were, of course, other potential suspects, particularly Maketh. No one would suspect Hannibal, however, Will's devoted friend, who clearly loved the man and had no quarrel with him. Hannibal would be properly sorrowful that Will had been murdered, and properly overjoyed when he returned.
Will had a tendency to seek solitude, in this case going down to the lake to fish and to care for his pets. It was the perfect place for the perfect murder. Hannibal made his way down to where his friend was, careful to not be seen by his soon-to-be victim. If things went as planned, even Will himself would not know that Hannibal was his murderer.
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"No, he wouldn't." Jill knew how passionate Will was about fishing. She bought him that fishing pole, and he had been so happy to receive it. He was going to give her lessons.... Jill shook her head a bit to put those thoughts out of mind. She needed to focus on the situation at hand.
"I just woke up at Hope's temple. Like waking up any other day. Hopefully, Will won't keep us waiting too long." She forced a little smile for Hannibal as she looked down at the body again.
The first thing Jill noticed with the slit throat. She touched the cut, and it only took a moment for her to determine what she believed to be true. "He was cut with a knife. This wasn't a random monster attack. A person had a hand in this. I can't believe it..." That someone in the city could do such a thing.
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"I don't know. Since you live with him, have you noticed anything out of the ordinary lately? Or someone who appeared particularly hostile with him for some reason?"
Hannibal and the body are the only things Jill really has to go on when it comes to discovering who did this.
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"Do you remember who said those things?" It would at least be a start to figuring out who might be responsible for this act. What happened to Will should not happen to anyone here. What else was the guard for? And yes, this death was personal for Jill.
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He is sounding and acting uncertain, when he is of course entirely calculating.
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"We should move him to Hope's temple." They can't just leave the body here. Jill set her hand on Will to see if they could manage to lift him, and that's when she noticed something. Another wound. She stopped and lifted his shirt to have a look. "Dr. Lecter, look at this." Jill was no doctor, but the additional wound seemed a little like overkill.
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"Curious. I have seen wounds that were similar to this in a number of cases, but with differing significance. One perpetrator would stab his victims in that area first to rupture the diaphragm, making it impossible for the victim to draw a breath sufficient to scream. In another case, the murder was ritualistic, and the wound was imitating the wound of the lance in the side of Christ."
It was all perfectly true, and Hannibal delivered the information in a heavy tone, as if what he had seen weighed on him, butt not as much as the mere thought such a horrible thing could have happened to his friend.
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"It's very strange. I'm no detective. What we need is a good profiler." Her lips became both sad and amused at knowing that the best one of those was lying dead in front of her.
"But... if I were a killer, and I intended to do it by slitting someone's throat, that's what I'd do first. Catch the victim off guard. Once his throat is slit, he won't be screaming for help, so why stab him here to stop him from making a sound?"
Jill gestured to the body wound again and then touched her fingers to her chin in thought. "If Will was ambushed and his throat was cut, only the killer probably knows why he or she would need to stab Will here a second time. Maybe it is ritualistic." But Jill can't figure what sort of ritual that would be... and she's not about to stick her hand inside of him Hannibal. Ew.
Jill reaches into her back pocket and takes out her phone, then holds it up to start snapping some pictures. It could be the only one who will be able to solve Will's murder will be Will.
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He watches Jill take pictures, the very picture of silent, sorrowful contemplation, then, when she's done, takes Will's shirt and gently draws it down over his exposed belly.
"I can carry Will, if you like."
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His offer gets a nod. "Yes, if you can manage." Jill will help out if Hannibal gets tired or struggles.
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He moves up into a crouch, slides his arms under the body, and lifts it gently. For a moment he pauses, holding Will close, his eyes closed. Then with a resigned sigh he rises to his feet with obvious effort.
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"Will you lead us to the temple?" he asks, his voice tight with effort and sorrow. He knows the way, of course, but all the better to allow Jill to take the lead.