Cannibal's kiss (( Hannibal X OOC))

Dinner and a Show

                  Hope, startled from the sight of Clarice stood still for a moment stiffened in all regards and sluggish mind attempting to catch up despite struggling under the weight of whatever drug she had been infected with. Starling also seemed to be suffering from a similar condition however hers was far worsened by the droop of her eyelids and the shaking of her hands against the firm polished railing. Barely able to stand up straight but nonetheless striving towards the stairs. Wearing a similar gown but it black and shorter, ending above her ankles and noticeably missing lace. It fit snugly against the detective's lithe body but looked odd with the boyish personality off given off. While elegant in nature and drawing out the natural assets and beauty of Clarice it clashed with her hardened face and stern stare.

"Hope? We have to.. Go.. something's w-wrong." Starling spoke in fragmented sentences the words enslaved at her curling tongue and unfocused eyes. Thought the cadence was there nothing else was, the husk of a friend barely able to stand.

"I know. We've been drugged.." She paused hearing the clatter of silverware halt and then footsteps approaching, in the moment of haste and rush of adrenaline Hope dived forward grasping Clarice around her thin upper arm and with a great heave dragged both of them behind the sanctuary of a wall where they would be shielded from view on the balcony. The footsteps approached, heavy but poised and the air was punctured by the smell of shoe polish and fine wine. Whoever was there seemed to be searching for one shoe resting precariously on the bottom step waiting in silence, till they grew bored and turned away. Taking a peek she could see the end of a tailcoat disappear into the next room where the sound resumed.

"Someone's down there.. I'm gonna go scope it ou- Clarice!" Hope hissed quietly only to be caught off guard by the hasty movements of Ms. Starling who was already stumbling down the sloped granite steps. Knowing that she couldn't make it very far, Hope joined her arms looped together so both had a support. The trophy slipped out of view and she noticed the round sphere of a snow globe clutched in Clarice's tightened fingers. They were ready for a fight, but nothing could prepare them for the scene that unfolded before them. 

             Before them was a lavishly decorated dining room with yellow curtains tied to the side of each windows decorated with images of curving vines and colorful flowers in full bloom, their petals stretched outwards in a glorious display, behind them were sheer pieces of fabric to obscure any unwanted guests from a view inside. Beside one of the neatly trimmed curtains was a grandfather clock in polished gold carvings ticking in an endless motion. The lengthier hand pointed between nine and ten while the stunted hand pointed at eight. '8:47' A golden dowel with a rounded end swung side to side in a rhythmic motion where the bowels of the clock should be. However, besides petty displays of wealth, the most eye catching thing in the room was the long table. Someone had gone around setting each place with a carefully cleaned white plate and silverware. Each polished to perfection with a matching napkin folded underneath for use throughout the meal. Every chair had been pushed in besides on at the head of the table currently occupied by a slumped figure their face obscured by a steaming pot. Filled with boiling water and newly cut vegetables bouncing around the bubbles popping to the top, it gave off a sweet aroma mixed with the oils of a pan sat beside it resting on a portable stove. Both of their contents sizzling loudly was a soothing sight, a reminder of camp. Curled under the stars and watching water evaporate on a steaming frying pan before hot dogs were placed on top to cook. However this sight was not as welcoming evident by the groans given by their guest. 

                 While Clarice hastened to sit down becoming increasingly disoriented Hope tentatively approached the person. Passing by the open archway leading to the kitchen where a hand extracted from and caught her tiny wrists in his firm grip. She turned to it and saw Hannibal standing there shaking his head in a mock scold.