what is ONE THING you like about the way i play my character?
@monstrauma came over for dinner
The house was filled with sound. Strings build up a crescendo of RELIGIOUS proportions. Every wave of that orchestral suite washed over Lecter’s home and made every inch of it seem pristine, HOLY … But as the music seemed to describe a crystalline stairway to heaven’s gates, Hannibal Lecter pulled open a trapdoor and DESCENDED into darkness. Italian shoes confidently landed on each step despite the pitch blackness. Most would consider his habits deplorable, beastly ; NON-CHRISTIAN. A term which often baffled the good doctor. The holy books were filled with horror and gore. Acts of violence should hold NO MYSTERIES to practicing catholics. Hannibal reached the bottom floor and strings SCREAMED in unison throughout the house as if to announce his arrival. His finger flicked the switch,
And then there was light. Lamps flickered back to life to expose the ENTRAILS of the house. A sight that was nothing but common to the psychiatrist. Bodybags and frozen flesh … All animals looked alike when skinned and dismembered. There was some BEAUTY to be beheld even in that improvised butcher shop. The chemically polished paleness of all the plastic and metal coming in contact with the lively bright red of fresh supplies resembled many works of modern art. So very few artists were willing to truly BLEED for their work nowadays.
As one fluorescent tube struggled to turn on, Lecter thought he saw SOMETHING that did not match the aesthetic of his work.
A loose strand of his imagination perhaps. A large creature standing in a corner, watching him in silence. Its’ apparition was so short-lived that it became impossible for Hannibal to register WHOSE ghost had momentarily brushed over his thoughts. He had been IMPRESSED by their size and recalled seeing a shade of CRIMSON … But little more remained. Many ghosts had casted their shadows across Lecter’s memory palace yet most of them were mere GUESTS. No matter how UNPLEASANT, their presence was always momentary, never eternal … EXCEPT FOR ONE.
But that ghost rested behind locked doors. The large shadow had been casted by something else. Something SEPARATED from Lecter’s consciousness. After all these years, Hannibal’s mind still had the power to surprise him. The doctor picked up a small compressed bag. He was about to prepare a Foie gras with mushroom duxelle. Hopefully such hallucinations wouldn’t steal him of his PALATE. Lecter turned the light back off and walked upstairs back into the kitchen. TIME TO COOK.
