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dumb fish child
04 February 2017 @ 08:39 pm
The world could show nothing to me, so what good would living do me [W3, Saturday, Post-Trial]  
[By the time Hannibal makes his way back to the hotel it may be fairly late. Percy hasn't gone inside but he's relatively quiet as he cradles Mrs. O'Leary in his lap and leans back against one of the support beams. Upon closer notice, one may find that his knuckles are battered and bruised, split and splintered and bleeding but he doesn't care. His eyes are red and puffy and the circles under them are prominent.

And yet he's as alert as ever. He hears footsteps and his hand immediately moves for the dagger on his hip. He only stops when he recognizes the approaching figure.]

Dr. Lecter. [It's a quiet voice, though clearly curious.] Isn't it late for you to be out here?
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dumb fish child
04 February 2017 @ 08:43 pm
Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again [W3, Saturday, Post-Trial]  
[It's midnight and he can't sleep. He knows Mrs. O'Leary might be okay to walk but he's carrying her anyway, dagger strapped to his hip and eyes wild as he leaves the hotel. He has every intention of looking for a fight even if his knuckles are still bruised and bloodied, but instead his wanderings lead him to somewhere that's been on his mind.

The saloon. They never did figure out who slept here, did they? Did Annabeth's killer really possibly hide out here? The thought makes him sick, and yet curiosity gets the better of him as he approaches.

The doors to the church open though and he turns his head, spotting a familiar figure walking out.]

Why aren't you back at the hotel yet? [Forgive him, Jason, he just sounds Exhausted.]
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