marcato | (no subject)

The gift I mentioned a few weeks ago is finished. If you tell me a time and location, I'll deliver it.

Wonderful. I've missed seeing your face.

[He provides the address. It's a park -- the very same park Javert demanded he visit after Fairwell.]

I assume you're nocturnal. Does 10PM work well for you?

Of course. For you, any time works well for me.

[ That's an honest statement. Nothing involving Aunamee could ever be an inconvenience for Hannibal. ]

I'll see you there.

[Like before, Aunamee arrives exactly on time. Not a minute early. Not a minute late. It was easier in his old world -- his precognition helped him anticipate every little roadblock on his way from one location to the next. Here, he needs to practice, obsessively reciting his steps until he understands exactly how long it takes. Teleportation is one of his few advantages as a faerie. At least now, he only needs to memorize how long it takes to reach the park from his faerie ring.

Before he sees Hannibal, his eyes are dull, like a stage actor waiting to take the stage.

When he sees Hannibal, he smiles.]

Hello, dear Hannibal.

[Inside his breast pocket, he feels the weight of a newly forged watch against his chest. Like a heart.]

You're a fast worker.

[ When dealing with people, Hannibal's expressions tend to be carefully crafted fakes; a person-shaped mask he wears to appear more human. But the smile he gives Aunamee is real. There's no reason to be anything but what he is around him. ]

I dislike being idle and there are very few demands on my time here.

[ There's a small leather carrying case in his hand that he immediately offers to Aunamee. Inside there are four full bottles of the antidote pills, two wallets of carefully arranged syringes filled with drugs for Aunamee's enemies, and a packet of papers: directions on dosage and side-effects, detailed instructions on how to create the drugs. All of it is clearly labeled in Hannibal's neat, calligraphic handwriting. ]

The original antidote takes anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes to take effect. Yours takes five, which ought to give you an advantage over everyone should you need it. I've also included instructions for making more. No other physical copies exist and the supply I gave to Javert is modest. If something happens to me, you'll be the only one here who knows how to make it.

[ And knowledge is power. Power Hannibal wants Aunamee to have readily available should he need it. ]

[When he takes hold of the carrying case, he feels electricity in his fingertips, the kind of buzz that dances between his joints and climbs up his neck. He closes his eyes when he feels it, letting out a voiceless sigh.

He doesn't open the case to verify Hannibal's words. He knows he isn't lying to him. ]

You're exquisite.

[He rests the case against his leg. He imagines he can feel heat radiating off of it, even though it's nothing but dead, cool leather.

He removes the watch from his pocket. At first, it's hidden inside his palm like something precious, like something mystical that would shudder and die in the light. ]

I have a gift for you, too.

[He relaxes his fingers, revealing the brushed gold of a pocket watch. He offers it forward. ]

Do you know what a phylactery is, dear Hannibal?

[There's an etching on the back of the watch. The astronomical symbol of Jupiter. Perhaps he finds it familiar. ]

[ He takes the watch carefully, reverently. It isn't often that he's given gifts, and when he has been, the giver was someone of no consequence who saw only his artificial persona. It's never before been someone who knows what he is and it's certainly never been someone for whom he genuinely cares. It doesn't cross his mind to lie to Aunamee or feign knowledge he doesn't have. ]

Yes, but I suspect that in this context my knowledge fails me. I know it as something in which scriptural passages and prayers are stored. And as an amulet that offers protection.

[ He turns it over, sees the etching on the back. ]

This is the symbol of Jupiter, isn't it? The god of wisdom and power.

[ Lifting his eyes to Aunamee, he smiles at him. He isn't misspeaking when he asks the next question, associating god and man with one another. ]

Is this your blessing?

Yes.

[His words are just as reverent, half a whisper, half a song, like he's filling in the lyrics of some ancient hymn. He reaches a gloved hand for Hannibal's face, unafraid of the twisted, leathery skin of his Waldgeist form. For the first time in a long time, his own hand is warm.]

As a lich, my phylactery was the very essence of my life. It kept time with my heartbeat.

[His other hand snakes to Hannibal's, tapping the watch with his overly long fingers.]

It was a pocket watch just -- [tap] -- like -- [tap] -- this. In some ways, dear Hannibal, this is me giving you my heart.

[ It's the most natural thing in the world to lean into Aunamee's hand. Hannibal's lips slowly curve into a warm, sincerely affectionate smile. ]

Then I will cherish it for the rest of my days.

[ He brushes the tips of the fingers of his free hand over the back of Aunamee's, then presses them to his own chest, directly over his heart. ]

Would you like mine as well? It's no elegant work of art like the gift you've given me, but you can cut it from my chest yourself if you'd like to have the physical organ.

[ The offer is genuine. He will even hand him the knife. ]

Metaphorically speaking, however, I suspect you've had it all along. I simply did not realize it until I came here.

[How does Hannibal always know what to say? The offer is tantalizing, and he finds himself watching the place on Hannibal's chest where he knows his heart rests, inert in undeath. He imagines he can feel it between his fingertips, and then he imagines he can feel it writhing, squirming in both life and death.

He leans closer, his breath warm and alive. ]

I'd be honored.

[He pulls back, but only slightly. ]

But I can't risk having you vanish from this place. I'll content myself with the metaphor.

[His grip on the other man's face tightens, as though he's going to bring him in for a kiss. Right now, however, his jaw is all wrong, more bug-like than human, and so he resists, loosening his grip a moment later. ]

We'll resume this dance when my body returns to normal, dear Hannibal. I look forward to it desperately.

[ There are far worse sights than Aunamee's face, though perhaps that's Hannibal's bias at work. An insect-like visage on anyone else would be repulsive. But Aunamee is, as always, beautiful. ]

Of course.

[ Just for an instant, Hannibal runs his fingertips—angled carefully to avoid scratching him with his claws—over what would have been Aunamee's cheek were his face more human. It's a caress as affectionate as it is appreciative. But his hand is cold, he knows, and he drops it before it becomes too unpleasant. ]

Much awaits us on that day. [ A duel with swords. A bit of fun at the Cube. ] Patient though I am, I confess it cannot come soon enough.

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