mercs_muses: (Chilton: inocente)
gettin' my game on ([personal profile] mercs_muses) wrote2014-07-20 10:47 pm

the darkest timeline: chilton hates you

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.
collects_strays: (destroyer-benefactor)

[personal profile] collects_strays 2014-07-21 07:28 am (UTC)(link)
Graham doesn't pause as he crosses the threshold. As though he were expecting the bar to suddenly appear, or at least doesn't object to it, he merely closes the door once again, and slips his hands into the pockets of his long gray coat.

The ease in how he holds himself, how he walks, is familiar, but unlike him. At first he seems to be heading toward the Bar - before the orange fabric that snags at his attention.

He still never stops. Graham's path tilts toward Chilton's table like it had been his intention the moment he walked in.
collects_strays: (beast of a burden)

[personal profile] collects_strays 2014-07-21 09:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"You're not hallucinating, Frederick."

He slows and then stops at Chilton's table, putting his hand on a free chair, but not yet pulling it out.

"Though for now, you'll have to take my word for it."
collects_strays: (talking backwards)

[personal profile] collects_strays 2014-07-21 10:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Just barely, Graham smiles.

He does pull out the chair, unbuttoning his coat as he sits down. Graham still doesn't look right to his eyes, his gaze settling near Chilton's shoulder.

"How are you, Frederick?"

His voice his even, but it's an entirely unnecessary question.
collects_strays: (tell me what I should do)

[personal profile] collects_strays 2014-07-22 01:21 am (UTC)(link)
Indeed, like a split screen, Graham sees two sides - a line of bars and beyond it, that's meaningless how you did it Hannibal Lecter has no reason

And then the other, his courtroom, light from the window along the witness chair. there is not yet a name


"Don't get too discouraged." His tone stays consistent, almost uncomfortably so.

"Someone believes you."
collects_strays: (gray coat (which there are a lot of but.)

[personal profile] collects_strays 2014-07-22 02:49 am (UTC)(link)
"Talking to me is what put you here."

There's a short pause, but then Graham's face reflects Chilton's smile.

"After you fled my house, I didn't know you would want me as a visitor."
collects_strays: (neither will I)

[personal profile] collects_strays 2014-07-22 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
Graham looks away, his smile shifting. The mirror's acting on its own.

"For your sake, I hope not."
collects_strays: (live bait)

[personal profile] collects_strays 2014-07-22 05:05 am (UTC)(link)
There's a pause, before Graham looks back to him.

"Maybe you should have left me out of your pissing contest with him, Frederick."

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schrodingerskatz: (Crinkleface)

[personal profile] schrodingerskatz 2014-07-21 06:26 pm (UTC)(link)
What the hell are you wearing?

It's not exactly audible -- the words are almost at the edge of hearing, but they come with a strong feeling of surprise and a flicker in the peripheral vision.

Beverly's still getting the hang of appearing corporeal in the bar. It doesn't seem to be a problem for other dead people here, but they all seem to have been issued real bodies on arrival.
schrodingerskatz: (Hair and fiber)

[personal profile] schrodingerskatz 2014-07-21 06:40 pm (UTC)(link)
She's making an effort, but she still looks pretty translucent. The effect is a little like watching a movie projected on a dark window. When the glass falls, she puts out a hand to try and catch it; the spilled liquid passes right through her palm.

"Dr. Chilton?"

There: that sounds more like a human voice.
schrodingerskatz: (Keen eyes clear mind)

[personal profile] schrodingerskatz 2014-07-21 06:50 pm (UTC)(link)
"Formerly, I guess, if you want to get technical."
schrodingerskatz: (Crinkleface)

[personal profile] schrodingerskatz 2014-07-21 07:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Beverly blinks at him.

"What? Of course you're not the Ripper. I know who killed me."

A beat. Her eyes narrow.

"Are they charging you?"

Did she die and then Jack Crawford lost his goddamn mind?
schrodingerskatz: (Threshold of revelation)

[personal profile] schrodingerskatz 2014-07-21 07:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Beverly's edges fuzz out and then focus again, and the ambient temperature drops slightly, although in the large room it's not too obvious.

"You know that and he's not in custody?"
schrodingerskatz: (Threshold of revelation)

[personal profile] schrodingerskatz 2014-07-21 07:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Her eyes widen.

"Which agents?"

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