mercs_muses: (Chilton: inocente)
So he has come to a completely inexplicable bar, where the first drink is free and bizarre manifestations of conscience ask him pointed questions about who Hannibal Lecter is sleeping with.

Why doesn't his fractured psyche wish to know anything about who he is sleeping with? (Don't answer that.) For the time being, he has elected to keep drinking until alternatives beyond 'return to prison' present themselves.

Chilton is seated at a table that provides a good view of the bar, but has thus far done only the barest minimum by way of exploring the place. He can't even bring himself to abandon the jumpsuit. He almost likes it, in a masochistic sort of way: He's been indelibly branded. A burnt-orange letter on his breast.

His compliments to Dr. Lecter, Miriam Lass, and the BAU.

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mercs_muses: (Default)
gettin' my game on

July 2014

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