❥ so degrading, the show has just begun;;

[ultranumb]

 They break so easily...

[She looks down at the bodies, torn limb from limb as if a beast had attacked them. All Sierra wants is to go home, but she's horribly lost in these back alleys and Google Maps is totally full of shit. There was no left to turn on to. This is just a dead end that was full of creepers.  Well--now they're dead, but there's just one problem...]

And none of them were nice enough to give me directions. How sad.

[Yet the heir to the Baranski family doesn't seem sad at all. In fact, she seems quite bored as she attempts to brush some of the blood off her porcelain white cheeks. Bright red blood smears across her face. Red is such a pretty color--it's why she likes wearing it, but the Don always did prefer white. He's dead now though--because of her--but that doesn't really matter anymore.

She keeps staring at the limbs and torsos as she contemplates her next move. Google Maps has failed her, so what next?]

Comments

[operapaintingandmurder]

[He's not affronted at the joke, but he is a little surprised and it shows in raised eyebrows despite his severe expression.]

A clever, strong girl like you didn't think of some way to leave here without attracting attention already?

[This is quite the opportunity to act the gentleman and offer his coat, isn't it? Hannibal is shouldering it off in a fluid motion and then holding it out by its back, offering to help her into it.] Perhaps I could help with that?~

[ultranumb]

I suppose I was enjoying myself a little too much to care--but that moment has passed.

[When he offers her his jacket, Sierra blinks in surprise. Why is he even offering to help? How very, very strange.]

You are an odd man, sir.

[But she lets him help her slide the jacket on either way.]

May I offer you dinner? It's not that long of a ride to the compound.

[operapaintingandmurder]

Self-control is a useful tool. [It's a light scolding, nothing like what should be caused by the sheer amount of blood and guts painting the area muted reds.

He looks at this small girl in his jacket; as instinctive as the gesture was, he's never actually seen someone else in his clothes.]

I would be...delighted at the chance to get to know you better, Ms...?

[ultranumb]

Only in small doses.

[She's gained far more from impulsiveness over the years. Besides, she likes to always have a comeback--even if he is somewhat right in his argument.]

Sierra Baranski. No need for suffixes.

And you are?

[If he was smart he might recognize her surname--the Baranski family was well known, if only because of their access to some of the world's most intelligent (and perhaps insane) minds. Besides that, it's not every day that a mafiya family is run by what looks to be am eighteen year old girl.]

[operapaintingandmurder]

[Hannibal lets the matter rest for now; differences make for fascinating companions, and right now this girl who's capable of causing such destruction while being so small is very interesting.]

Sierra, then. [He corrects himself, omitting the "Ms".]

Hannibal Lecter. [Her own name rang a bell, though Hannibal didn't really make a habit of knowing the titles of crime syndicates. A few newspaper articles flashed through his head, but that was all.]

[ultranumb]

Hannibal. A pleasure.

[She leans over to brush her lips against his left cheek, then his right cheek. It was a habit she picked up from living in Europe for so long.]

I presume you know your way back to the main roads? I'm not terribly familiar with this part of the city.