"That’s some pretty sound logic you got there." She chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "At least you’re out of the hotels, can’t imagine how living in there must be like. Oh, I should probably let you and Alice know that I had the contractor add a few additions to your house." Phi heads over to her desk to pick up a sheet of paper, handing it over. "This is a list of secret compartments and codes to an escape route under your building. Just in case."
"Smelly as fuck mostly. And in our last hotel we had a house cleaner who liked to help herself to our booze so we had to hide it. And an owner who hated us because…" he stopped himself before he blabbed and went into too much detail. "Noise complaints. But hey, it was cheap." Hannibal’s eyes lit up at the mention of secret compartments and such, scanning over the paper. "Holy shit. Ninja house. Fuck yeah."
(( Working graveyard for a couple days and it leaves me a bit frazzle brained, when my brain has settled I’ll reply to threads I owe. Pinky promise. Some of you are used to my slow ass replies but I’m tagging you anyways. Fuck the police.
If I didn’t tag you and I owe, let me know. Also if you want a starter when my brain is done being dumb just shoot me an ask.
"Oh. My opinion stays the same, I’m not worried about whatever we have going on. Speaking of which, have you guys moved in yet?"
"If by moving in you mean we had furniture guys bring in a bunch of couches and a bed and there are a bunch of boxes all around still, then yes. We uh…should probably unpack sometime soon. But hey, we got cable set up. Night Court and pizza is better than unpacking. It’s science."
Everything gets a little boring sometimes. Things loose their sheen. Monotony and the dull repetition of life—or afterlife—begin to grate and take their toll. The simple act of eating can even become a bore. This is where Hannibal and Alice found themselves, though they had a plan that would put an end to what had become dull evenings. Because even killing can lose its thrill after a while.
The specimen they’d picked out seemed easy enough, with so much alcohol coursing through his veins that they could smell each and every type of liquor he’d shoved down his oh so tempting throat that evening. Alice moved in first, coy and unthreatening, a stark contrast to the ravenous killer Hannibal knew she was, full of soft giggles and fishnet covered legs that stretched for miles. Poor idiotic fuck, Hannibal thought as he polished off one more in a staggering number of neat gins. The bar tab he was running up definitely not worth the lack of inebriation he currently had. He reminded himself it was for appearances and that if the bartender complained about an unpaid tab, he’d rip his large intestine out and play Cat’s Cradle with it.
His grumpiness was at an all time high. Possibly from the ache from his bloodlust, but more than likely it was from the broad hand that was sliding up Alice’s inner thigh. The higher it slid, the harder it was to keep from crushing the highball glass in his hand, setting it down instead and shoving his hands in his charcoal pea coat, fingers running over the smooth handle of a butterfly knife instead. It wouldn’t see action tonight, but he found the action soothing nonetheless.
A tapping distracted him from his nefarious daydreaming, the bartender knocking his empty glass on the bar in front of him, motioning to Alice and her new friend. Glancing over, it was obvious it was his turn to join in, Alice waving him over with a smirk and a curl of her finger. The other male stiffened as Hannibal approached, hand sliding from it’s hiding spot under Alice’s far too short skirt, though the stink of desperation and lust didn’t stop oozing from his orange, fake tanned pores. Hannibal lets Alice the reins coercing the other, whose name he finds out is Chad, though he forces himself to forget immediately, cooing about how much fun they’d have back at the hotel and running her stilettoed foot up Chad’s calf to emphasize what kind of fun she was implying.
The idiot seems more than ready, and as they leave the bar Hannibal has to clench his hands, digging nails into his palms to keep from dragging him to the pavement and smashing his face in then and there when he leans in close and takes dibs on plowing her ‘sweet little pussy’ first. Instead he smiles like a wolf bearing it’s teeth in a snarl and agrees, though the drunk seems oblivious to the malice smeared on the vampire’s expression, his eyes fixated on the sway of Alice’s ass instead. Hannibal doesn’t say anything on the Taxi ride home, almost ready to call off the entire thing when he meets the hybrid’s gaze in the reflection of his window, blackened and bloodshot, and his hunger is reawakened.
Piece by piece the clothing came off from all three of them as they traveled to the bedroom of their hotel suite, Alice leading the way, Chad following after like a drooling dog, and Hannibal very slowly making his way after. If the vampire had a heart it would be pounding out of his chest from excitement, the crescendo of their evening almost upon them. He wanted to wait just a bit longer, until the fuck thought everything was going his way, for the moment he actually truly 100% believed he might fuck a creature as terrifying and beautiful as Alice. Biding his time, he waited and watched as Alice laid herself back against satin covered pillows, the other male kneeling on the bed, crawling closer and closer.
Chad’s body hovered over Alice’s for only a moment before it was ripped away, Hannibal’s fingers curled around short, frosted tipped locks, chunks of hair coming loose in patches from the force. One hand cupped the flailing man’s chin, as if he might do the humane thing and snap his neck before they feasted on him, but he stopped himself. It wasn’t often the vampire fed directly from their victims, preferring to drink the precious blood through Alice instead, but he found himself reeling the human’s head back to painful angle, a crushing bite driving his fangs into his neck. The alcohol tainted the blood with an acrid taste, but he was so full of rage that it was barely noticed. He barely noticed anything, actually, including the soft dip of the bed when Alice joined him, fangs sinking into the other side of the sputtering, squirming meal.
Their bellies were full, but Hannibal’s rage wasn’t quite satiated yet, his hand plunging into the chest cavity of their victim as Alice took her place back against the pillows. He watched with apathy as the corpse fell first on the foot of the bed, then smeared its way to the floor, warm heart oozing in the vampire’s palm. Squeezing until blood dripped down to his elbow he shrugged, tossing the useless muscle aside and finally letting a smile appear on his face. Turning to Alice, he crawled over to her, offering her a blood soaked finger to pull into her mouth, and called dibs on plowing her sweet little pussy first.
He turned and blinked, catching the sight of a very very familiar face.
the vampire hunter. Once an abomination, now he hunts them….interesting
"Hannibal!" Cal grinned and set the book down, walking over and embracing him. "Shit, it’s good to see you!"
The hug was a little unexpected but he responded accordingly, giving his friend a few pats on the back with the arm that wasn’t cradling the book.
"You too, man. Looking good. Where you been hiding?"
No one had informed Hannibal about anything regarding Cal’s death. Then again, he’d spent some time of his own off the radar for a while.
Aeson frowned and looked away, regretting that he’d brought up an incident so entrenched in his past when it wasn’t even relevant to the conversation. “I might need to look into that ‘legally dead’ thing. Technically still wanted by the F.B.I. on four counts of murder. Got me mentioned on a ‘Most Wanted’ episode, though. Could’ve chosen more of a looker for the reenactment, but that’s notoriety for you.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it’s cash only for me now.” The microchip comment had him looking at Hannibal’s back, wondering if he’d ever seen a scar there or any other mark that might indicate the chip was there. “I think I’m good. Already got that vampire tattoo and now the bite. Not that I’m complaining, but having another way to be tracked down probably isn’t what I need right now.” After a pause, he added, “And what ended up changing that?”
He put his hands in the pockets of the jacket and answered, “I won’t. Don’t even like mustard that much, anyway.” The thought of doing any damage to Hannibal’s jacket made his brows furrow with concern. To the wolf, it was a vital personal item his superior had entrusted to him for the time being – he’d die before letting it come to any harm. That it was just a jacket never entered his head.
The awkward pat on the shoulder made his stomach sink, interpreting it as the reluctance to touch him that might come with regret over their experience not too long before. His eyes remained on the ground as they walked. He didn’t look up at Hannibal again until he heard the other wolf’s whine over the noise of the restaurant. “…if you’d want to,” he said, sliding into the other side of the booth. Music rang in his ears and the conversations of tables across the room felt like they were inches away, the ones next to them like they were shouting in his ears. Aeson took a deep breath and grabbed the salt shaker to have something to hold onto. As soon as fingers tightened around the glass, it shattered in his hands. His eyes darted around the room, hoping no one had noticed. “Might be for the best, actually. If that’s alright. …you supposed to throw spilt salt over the left shoulder or the right?”
"First step to becoming legally dead: die." Hannibal was good at pushing away the memory of his death before it clouded his vision, though the resonating sound of his neck snapping still caused his left eye to barely twitch. "Second step: have a crazy vampire bitch use her cronies to torch a male body around your size, have a dirty doctor claim that your dental records match it, tell your closest living relative you were in a horrific car accident and have them identify your fake, crispy charred corpse. Though I’m sure there’s much easier ways to do it." Hannibal chuckled about the mention of America’s Most Wanted, shaking his head. "Maybe they just couldn’t find an actor as stunningly handsome as you," he tossed the other a wink. Though if he was honest, he was passing himself a compliment as well.
Pondering a moment, he considered what actually had changed that made him less susceptible to being subdued and snatched on the battlefield. Finally he shrugged. “Experience, I guess. Practice makes perfect. Oh, and I carry a shit-ton more toys.”
Inside the diner, Aeson’s distress was more than apparent. Hannibal could smell it, though his face stayed placid so he didn’t upset him even more. He briefly wondered why the other’s turn hadn’t set off alarm bells in his mind, probably because the wolf under his skin was so pleased at the addition to his pack. Eyes growing wide at the sudden pop of the glass salt shaker, he relaxed himself and very slowly reached out for the other male’s hand. He maneuvered Aeson’s hand very gently, turning it so he could see his palm and the damage. One by one he picked out the embedded glass shards, wiping away the salt that was clinging to the leaking cuts. Gestures like this gave away the amount Hannibal cared more than words or traditional affections that he refused to speak or display would.
“Focus,” he spoke, voice filled with the growling command his gifted alpha status awarded him, eyes glowing gold. “You can do this. Close your eyes and focus on the smell of food. Focus on the sound of it sizzlin’ away in there. Think about the best burgers you’ve ever had. No other distractions." Realizing he’d been cupping the other’s hand still, he gradually pulled his away. The waitress came by and he ordered for the both of them to save Aeson the trouble, two double cheeseburgers, no veggies, extra rare. To go. He had to repeat the doneness a few times, emphasizing that they wanted them practically raw. She seemed creeped out but complied, scooting away and back to the kitchen, most likely to gossip about the look alikes to wanted still mooing beef. "I know it’s overwhelming," his voice had returned to normal since speaking with the waitress, though it was still firm, "But you’re going to be fine."
Alice snatched the keys from Hannibal’s fingers, grinning and bumping his hip with her own. ”Oh, it would be my pleasure.” She slid one of the keys into the lock, turning it until the deadbolt unfastened with a resounding click. Withdrawing it, she twisted the doorknob and shoved the front door open.
Stepping to the side of the open doorway, she gave Hannibal her biggest smile and gestured to the interior. ”After you, oh wise Sensei.”
Hannibal took a few tentative steps inside, glancing around, a smile mirroring Alice’s appearing on his own facade. He took a few sniffs. “It doesn’t smell like ninety year old hookers smoked meth in here and then died. Nice.” An elbow gave his partner a few light prods. “Remember that hotel in Albuquerque? That’s the smell I’m talking about.”
Shutting the door with his heel, he continued his exploration, arm looping itself around Alice’s shoulders. “You weren’t kiddin’ when you said we’d have our fair share of space, huh?”
Cal was finding walking to be a challenge. Being dead for two years for real was actually a lot more difficult than running around as a ghost for five hundred. He padded barefoot through the halls, stretching leg muscles and staving off boredom, and one way to do that was through Phi’s extensive library.
He hummed to himself as he pushed the door open, turning more lights on. A familiar scent was in the room and caught his attention. “Hello?”
Lights flickered on to further illuminate the library and Hannibal jumped, having been immersed in a intriguing description of the mating rituals of the guinea fowl. Shutting the book with a thump, he tucked it into the crook of his arm, glancing around. Normally he would be on guard, but in Serenity he more than trusted he was safe. Except for those couple times with the demon. That sucked. Heading toward the sound of the voice, he glanced all around, turning a corner and catching view of the other.
"Hoe-lee shit! Take a look at this mother fucker right here."
Hannibal liked coming to Serenity to visit Phi, but another thing he enjoyed about her place of business was wandering around aimlessly, hoping to catch sight of more of her tucked away secret doors and elevators that she was able to make appear seemingly out of thin air. The intention behind it wasn’t to find out all her secrets, but instead he was intrigued by sheer curiosity of how it was managed…and where he could get the contractor’s number who’d done the work. Finding himself in a room filled floor to ceiling with shelves crammed with old books, he gingerly removed the random selection ‘Birds of the West Indies’. Flipping through pages he became lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to whomever might be roaming the rooms and halls as well.