❥ you may be good looking but you're not a piece of art;;

[trompeur]

 [It's not every day that one learns to hop from realm to realm, but after finding her way out of Citadel things became much easier for her. She's been visiting Hannibal every so often--he's one of the few from Citadel that she actually enjoys talking to. Months pass, but she visits him at least every other week. He's been acting quite strangely as of late, but it does not concern her all that much.

Perhaps he likes her, but Hannibal is honestly an enigma. Half the time he's thinking something entirely different than what she presumes. It's interesting, which is why she's so fond of him. Leblanc knocks on his door, looking rather lovely in a plain, white sundress. It's not her usual style, but she prefers to fit in with the locale and this seems to do nicely enough.]

Comments

[trompeur]

So you are telling me that all of the women here are dumb as a brick?

[Leblanc kisses the top of his head before releasing him from her grasp.]

Then again, even the Grand General is rather clueless outside of murder and war. Such a shame that I can't talk any sense into him either...

[But there's more to scold him over!]

You put your heart and soul into your work, but at the end of the day what do you have?

[operapaintingandmurder]

More or less. [It's the truth, mostly; but even the clever ones just don't have enough spark to ignite the dangerous fire that is Hannibal's affection. No, he's not interested in anyone else right now.

Ouch, Leblanc, that hits home. Hannibal recalls narrating letters to his deceased parents about his studies, wondering if they would be proud at him being the youngest medical student ever accepted in France, if they would be surprised or excited at him moving to America after a time.

At the end of the day, he is always alone.] Nothing.

I paint in my spare time, or go for walks.

[trompeur]

Shall we change that?

[Leblanc smiles a smile that's near maternal. She knows how it feels--to have so much yet have so little.]

Perhaps I could let you take a bit of a vacation to my world once your studies are over. It could be...fun~

[operapaintingandmurder]

[Her expression is soothing in a primal way, but Hannibal doesn't want to be soothed - or he doesn't want just that. But perhaps subtlety will still serve him well...

He looks up at her, all innocence and wide-eyed excitement, the gnawing hunger within him only showing through in his smile after several moments.] I would like that very much...

But what would you tell everyone I am? Your escort? [His tone is calculatingly playful, eyes dancing with a joke but more deeply a request, a dare.]

[trompeur]

Oh, but whatever do you want to be called?

[Leblanc raises her eyebrows--she can see where this is going, and it's honestly up to him to decide. She can put on plenty of ruses. Besides, it's far more fun if she takes....requests ♥]

Something more than a friend, it would seem.

[operapaintingandmurder]

[Hannibal is a fair-enough actor - has to be, to seem so innocent to so may people - but even in his play at having no ulterior motive, perhaps his desire shows in his eyes. In the way he lingers on her body a bit longer than necessary, eyes heavy with wordless emotion and curiosity.]

If that is alright with you, Miss Leblanc...? It seems very believable; after all, you and I appear near-enough in age that me being your 'son' would seem impossible.

[trompeur]

Oh, goodness no. Everyone knows that I'd never even think of having children anyways.

[She laughs a bit--god, her with kids? Not a chance in hell. Leblanc notices the way he lingers and acknowledges that Hannibal more than likely desires something other than maternal affection. However, she approaches the topic with great care--despite the fact that Hannibal is intelligent and quite pretty, she doubts that she could ever love him.]

I suppose calling you a lover would serve us well enough for the moment, hm?

[operapaintingandmurder]

[Hannibal sees no matching heat in Leblanc's gaze beyond the usual spark that resides there; even with Murasaki, he at least had known the feelings were returned. Is she truly uninterested and if so, why does she still play at flirting with him?]

I would be honored to be named such a thing, even in name only. [And truly, the idea of being called her lover towards strangers is exciting, something that will likely fuel some fantasies in Hannibal's evening later. But the chase is still on, he hopes, even if he needs to be patient.

He's always been patient, so why does this feel so different?]

[trompeur]

Mm.

[She ponders her next move quietly, arms folding across her chest as she thinks. It's not even that she wasn't attracted to him--he's just so young. Not naive, but very young, and he'd honestly be an easy target if she decided to seek anything further with him.]

Is it fate or something else? I can never decide...

[Leblanc turns to look out a window, frowning as she does so.]

You are not weak and yet...

If I called you anything more than such a thing, it would be all too easy for you to be killed.

You understand that, hm?

[operapaintingandmurder]

[Killed by people who have grudges against Leblanc?] Is blackmail so common for you?

[It's a terrible truth of her job, that everything must be so secretive - but that's part of the appeal. She will visit frequently enough, but that's all he sees of her, and each time she comes into his house and takes up all the empty space is a sight worth waiting for.

After a moment of consideration, he feels he can answer truthfully.] I understand.

However, is there something else that prevents us from being called 'anything more' than that?

[trompeur]

I'm a leader of what could be called a cult of bloodthirsty murderers. Of course blackmail is common for me, silly~

[But she says it with such smile and gusto! Most would be alarmed by that sadistic grin, but she presumes Hannibal won't mind. She loves it when people try to kill her--it means she gets to play with them.]

Is my little Hannibal confessing his feelings? Ah--whatever shall I do. I'm a little old lady.

[operapaintingandmurder]

[Yes, naturally she'd be used to blackmail. She seems to delight in it though, and the spark in her smile, the devious monster that lays in wait underneath the layers of seduction and occasional mothering attention, seems to light the embers buried deep in Hannibal's own mind.

He feels himself burn for her, just a little bit. Small tendrils of smoke curling up from a lit scrap of paper, curling into itself as its destroyed.]

You look young for your age, then. [It's said slyly, almost coy, though Hannibal's eyes don't stray from her face.]

[trompeur]

It's all smoke and mirrors.

[In the end, Leblanc is a selfish person. What Hannibal sees as desire, the Deceiver sees as an opportunity. She steps toward her friend and smirks, her pointer finger tipping his chin upward.]

But you're in for a treat.

[She kisses him roughly, hands grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer. If this is what he wants, then this is what he'll get--but perhaps not quite for his own desires.]

[operapaintingandmurder]

[Hannibal knows how to take simulated comfort from her smiles, was at first drawn to her out of an instinctive need for something he can't even name - the mother he misses but can hardly recall.

But now her smile is devious, full of something dark and it's thrilling to see the blackened depths of her soul peering out at him through her eyes.

He stares at her for several moments when the kiss finally comes, at once unbelievable and fully expected - as soon as she spoke her intentions were obvious, and yet she'd never crossed this threshold before. What changed her mind?

Eventually his eyes flutter shut, giving in to sensation alone as he steps forward to bring their bodies even closer, enjoying the pull on his neck from her grasping his shirt collar. When he feels it's finally possible and polite to pull back a moment, he comments:]

I suppose I should have expected you would be so sudden and violent. [Hannibal's eyes are open again, tracking her face and finally daring to look down further, enjoying the sight of her chest so near to him. He touches it with a hand, gentle despite the obvious hunger in his gaze.]

I do love treats that have a bit of bite to them.~ [And with that he leans in again, nips her bottom lip softly before pressing their mouths together. He'll adjust to her tempo if she wants it to be rough, but for the moment Hannibal is reluctant to ravage her of his own accord.]

[trompeur]

[This is only cruel if Hannibal lets it be. She's made it clear that there is no romantic form of love directed toward him, but there's just something fun about toying with someone as vulnerable as him.

Leblanc's smirk only widens when he brushes a hand against her breasts. Such hunger for someone so young is--well--entertaining.]

Oh, how witty of you~

[She runs her fingers along the scars that she saw on his neck so long ago. Scars always have intrigued her--after all, she has so many of her own and they all have stories. Hannibal's were far more interesting than hers though--what could have he been through to make him want to eat people? It was absolutely fascinating.]