as lecter approached, the being drew back slightly in his seat with a soft intake of breath. even after months in this circus, surrounded by people, the being had not forgotten the abuse he had suffered at the hands of mankind throughout the preceding decades. fear had been ingrained into him too strongly to set aside, by this point; however mild and benevolent this man seemed to be, the being was not at all inclined to trust him enough to permit close proximity, especially in a small tent like this one. he preferred to maintain a healthy distance between lecter and himself, if possible — but he was not impolite enough to voice that carelessly aloud. the body language spoke well enough for itself.
once more, he looked lecter up and down, this time with an added degree of wariness. the way that this stranger looked at him was entirely new: he looked not with fear or with disgust, but with admiration, as though the being were some glorious exhibit in a museum. at its core, that seemed positive, but there was something about it that unnerved the being nonetheless. it was human nature to fear anything monstrous or, in particular, corpse-like; if lecter did not fear him, then he could be no ordinary man. “ —if you will forgive my frankness, sir, humankind as a whole has given me no reason to trust any of its members. why should i put my faith in YOU? ”
He noticed the way the Being tried to keep the distance between them even. But Hannibal did not move from his spot. In his eyes this was NOT cruelty. This was NOT manipulation. THIS WAS LOVE. His own special brand of it. The Being’s question however made the doctor look away momentarily in reflection, fluttering his lashes as he chewed over his words. ❛ Men believed the earth to be flat due to what they saw. The horizon was not curved, therefore if one sailed towards it for long enough they ought to fall off into the emptiness. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable concept … Were we not HUNGRY for more and we would never have discovered our planet to be round. Would have never traced constellations nor learned about our eternal waltz around the sun. ❜
Lecter kept his hands folded behind his back. He wished to reach out and brush his fingers over the Being’s poorly constructed skin. A sign of reassurance to most but surely an alien and intimidating gesture to his host. The thought of gentleness WOUNDING someone pleased Lecter. ❛ Many of my peers do not believe you exist. Even I had my doubts, but now that I’ve met you ❜ The doctor was surprised to find himself parting his lips as if, for a moment, he had been left BREATHLESS. So very few works of art stroked that sense of AWE within Hannibal. And yet, there he was. ❛ It is as if Orion has fallen into earth. ❜ Keeping a constellation restrained under a circus tent was dangerous though. A fire of CATASTROPHIC proportions wasn’t a possibility but a promise. ❛ Leaps of faith may result in wounded legs or extraordinary findings. All it takes is a moment of reckless bravery. ❜
the being turned slowly in his seat, setting his eyes on lecter properly for the first time since the lithuanian first stepped into the tent — and, in doing so, he bared his own face more fully in the light, unintentionally permitting lecter a better view of it. he were almost unearthly in his hideousness: the distortion of the countenance and the conspicuous lack of a nose and lips would have been haunting enough, but over those disgusting features, the yellow-brown skin was stretched so thin that every muscle and shuddering vein was picked out in sharp detail. that horrid face did not look dead, and that was the sickest part of it: this creature was horribly, disgustingly, bone-chillingly alive, and for a mess of CORPSES to breathe and talk and move was a wretched sight to behold.
he made no move to either rise to his feet or relax further into his chair. there was a definite aura of suspicion settled on his tensed shoulders; whoever this man was, the being did not trust him, in spite of the pretty way he wove his words. the being dragged his clouded eyes up lecter’s from, from toe to head, drinking in every detail and piecing together what he could discern from the foreigner’s appearance. rich, by the looks of his clothes; confident, by the looks of the way he held himself. “ if you had come only to see me, you would have left once you had done so. there remains something else you desire. speak of it. ”
The Being’s visage was truly UNGODLY. How could a living being look so poorly-adjusted to its’ own skin? Whoever had built his anatomy had been a TORTURED artist. Gluing and stitching together pieces that couldn’t be contained by ethical measurements, stretching veins over matter as if they were nautical ropes … He looked TERRIFYING. Lecter gave a small step forward. He found it extremely easy to enjoy both the beauty and the horror in God’s work. All of it was refined. Art was supposed to move you. To awaken a reaction within you. Not all art was meant to be beautiful … Was The Being NOT a work of art ? Did his existence not SHAKE one’s concepts of reality, did it not CHANGE them ? Creatures like him were meant to stand on MARBLE PEDESTALS, not in circus tents.
❛ … Your freedom interests me greatly. ❜ Lecter replied, his expression hardening somewhat as he examined every inch of the performer’s features. He wanted to DRINK IN all the misshaped details, all the gruesome scars and tendons made available to him. Hannibal wished he could FRAME the being , just as he was , right there and then. ❛ Your current line of work doesn’t strike me as being the most stimulating … I fear that if you remain here you’ll soon strangle all of the unexplored potential stored within you, ❜ There was a pause then as the good doctor tilted his head ever so slightly. ❛ I could help you. ❜
all things considered, the being knew that he ought to be grateful. this circus, full of rot and refuse, was not altogether a pleasant place, but it was, at the very least, some semblance of a HOME. the being would certainly find no better place for himself, wretched though it was by any reasonable standards; here, he was not happy, but he was accepted, on some level. he was not the only man here who could be called unnatural: the entire freak show consisted of all sorts of individuals with various deformities, and although he was arguably the strangest and the most terrifying of the bunch, he was not alone in his lot overall. these people here knew what it was to be rejected and spurned.
this feeling of belonging had never entirely managed to efface his misery, of course. as relieved as he was to be a part of something, surrounded by others with whom he could sympathise, the strain of the constant performances was wearying. every night, when the curtain went up, he was obliged to perform like some trained dog: he stalked along the stage, shoulders hunched, hideous face thrust forward, sunken eyes flashing, white teeth bared, to endure and encourage the shrieks of the horrified crowd. there was nothing in the world, he thought, more dehumanising than THIS.
but for all its miseries and trials, this was a life. he had food here, and a bed in which to sleep — and, much more precious to him, he had people at his side. many of the other performers, put off by his disturbing appearance, gave him a wide berth, but a few were kind enough to treat him well. one of the clowns of the company, who was particularly well-read, even went so far as to seek the being out for conversation and discourse on various topics of philosophy, which gave the being immense pleasure. after so many years of abject loneliness, this chance at company here was precious enough for the being to consent to the humiliation of the performances.
on the occasion of dr. lecter’s coming, the night air was wet with the hint of coming rain. most of the circus-goers had hastened quickly to the main tent, eager to escape the storm before it broke; but a few curious children had toddled off to the living tents of the performers, and several of these, no doubt on some dare, had pushed their way into the being’s abode. the effect, of course, was instantaneous: as soon as he turned in surprise and bared his face to them in the light, they fled howling back to their parents, yelping about the monster in the black tent. this was no new occasion — by now, the being was perfectly accustomed to seeing human beings flee from him, but every instance of it still managed to upset him to some degree.
he was, therefore, in somewhat of a foul mood when the flaps of his tent opened a second time, this time admitting a rather old and dignified-looking man. the use of french pleased him a little, but not nearly enough to lift his spirits. with his hideous face twisted into a sort of grimace, the being settled himself down into his seat, sparing the man no more than a contemptuous glance. “ if you wish to ogle the BEAST OF CORPSES, ” he replied flatly in french, with an ease that suggested it was, indeed, his native tongue, “ you may purchase a ticket to the show. ”
Lecter remained still and serene while listening to the circus performer. But catching sight of the creature had made his heart skip a beat. Not in the same manner one’s heart falters when being left unarmed with a wild beast but more so when faced with the miracle of CHILDBIRTH. Hannibal Lecter was in awe at the suggestion of the being’s features … He looked as if he had never had the opportunity to be a child. Who had never had his cries heard and tended to … no mother offering milk from her tit … Lecter imagined that whoever had FATHERED that creature had been overwhelmed with horror. No one would have blamed his abandonment. Lecter, however, was ENTHRALLED.
❛ The more a Fool speaks of his King, the more I learn about the Fool. ❜ The doctor replied softly, heavily-lidded eyes fixed on the large frame sitting before him. ❛ I didn’t come to see the Beast of Corpses. ❜ He added. ❛ I came to see you. ❜ What interest would it have watching such a rare creature preforming a part imposed by those who did not understand him ? The crowd might have been satisfied with growls and bared teeth … But this being was no animal. Nor was he a man. He was something else. Something infinitively more COMPLEX. The Lithuanian tilted his head in an attempt to find the Frenchman’s gaze, hoping to rip through the hostile veil surrounding the being.
@anabioun came over for dinner
This was not the sort of event Hannibal Lecter would usually grace with his presence. Crowds of loud people walked towards the stripped tents, the scent of melted butter and excrements overwhelmed the doctor’s senses to the point of it being nearly UNBEARABLE. Most of the people there looked as if they had never held a book in their lives Illiterate hysterics that found entertainment in DISFIGUREMENTS and NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCES were the majority of most civilizations. The blood pumping through the veins of every country. They were often overlooked by history. It was an odd phenomenon ; most cultures preferred to build their identities by completely ignoring the SIMPLICITY of human nature. So much was written about kings and artists while the masses went completely ignored. One could learn much from the WILDERNESS of a people.
That traveling circus served as evidence ; the promise of HORROR waited behind the brightly colored curtains and yet, everyone rushed in, hoping to get a PEEK. The bizarre and uncanny relieved the people’s hunger for BLOOD. The spectacle inside was like a fresh WOUND on the roof of everyone’s mouth that would heal if they could only stop flicking their tongue over it … But they couldn’t. Despite the sharp pain, there was something profoundly SATISFYING in tasting one’s own blood. All of those families were gore starved creatures, hoping to get a small taste of SAVAGERY. Lecter calmly moved along with the human tide ; he knew of a more effective way to tame his APPETITE.
He was not there for any of the circus’ RAZZLE DAZZLE. Hannibal did not wish to be deceived by magicians or entertained by clowns. The good doctor was there to be AWED. There was a very particular PERFORMER he wished to see. Now, Lecter had heard rumors from the help about a BEAST. The Lithuanian had listened to plenty of tales about conjoined twins, women who could grow full beards, even of men who had came into the world without any limbs ; but the way they spoke of this … BEING … was astounding. Every single person who had come face to face with it seemed to shiver when describing its’ size and features. DEATH IN THE FLESH, he thought he heard them say. Now how one had managed to capture and cage DEATH was a subject Hannibal was PROFOUNDLY interested in. That was why when he heard the circus was back in his hometown he decided to INDULGE his curiosity.
The Doctor fluttered his lashes when hearing a distant SCREAM. Somewhere to the left of the main tent a couple of children ran for their lives, nearly tripping on the ropes keeping the large venue intact. A few smaller tents and caravans were parked there, near the trees. Hannibal assumed that was the performers’ living space. But once Lecter heard the children breathlessly describing a MONSTER to their parents, he decided to step away and investigate.
The area was terribly quiet. Whoever hid within the few improvised tents did not seem to want to be disturbed. But one tent in particular stood further away from the others. Darker and gloomier than the red and white stripped ones. It seemed to try and BLEND IN with its’ bucolic surroundings. Lecter tilted his head and without a second thought, he pushed the door’s fabric to the side and entered the poorly lit thing. He thought he saw a breathing shadow in the darkest corner … It smelled … ODD. Not of rotting flesh like it had been described to him … But of something else. Instead his nostrils were invaded by scents of CHEMISTRY SETS and HUMID EUROPEAN FORESTS. Of soaked dirt and pine trees in April mornings. IT smelled of Southern Europe … But not of the Mediterranean, no it lacked the salty sea breeze of the Portuguese nor did it have the dryness of the Spanish countryside … Not exactly. France perhaps ?
❛ Bon soir.❜ Lecter tried, not daring to invade the creature’s space any further without AN INVITATION.
