Dr. Hannibal Lecter is ready for the labyrinth

[cook_the_rude]

The door opens, and Dr. Hannibal Lecter looks in.

The door closes again.

The door opens again, and Dr. Hannibal Lecter strides in, wearing sturdy clothing and sensible hiking shoes as well as carrying a small canvas rucksack.

From it, he takes some fruit and leaves them with the bar.







Then, he takes off his coat and has a coffee while he appears to wait for something.



[[meta: ep is open, but all other threads must happen before yrael]]

Comments

[mogget_cat]

"I worry less about the light than I do about what effect it may have had on the denizens of this place," Yrael remarks, wondering, then nods out towards the light. "Look."

From their vantage point, they can see three of the bees have broken off from the group and are flying out towards the pulsing light source. It is further out than it looks, only distance making it look small. The bees themselves are tiny dots against its surface when they finally alight upon it.

"...It was signalling them."

[cook_the_rude]

"You are right," Hannibal says. "We best make a dash."

[mogget_cat]

Yrael steps to the edge of their hiding spot to peer directly up at the roiling, agitated mass of bees some hundred and eighty feet above their destination. The massive bees could cross that space easily.

"I am tempted to try something that might make that dash less likely to be interrupted."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal nods, tensely.

[mogget_cat]

It has been said, usually with exasperated irritation but occasionally with relief, that Yrael occasionally displays the tendency to act quite rashly.

With a lightning-quick smile towards the doctor, Yrael's form snaps into a bolt of silver light, streaking towards the sunlike light source. The impact, when it comes, shudders the entirety of the combscape. The agitated buzzing from the bees above rises into a frenzied whine, and the bees take off in droves, streaming away in single-minded fury towards the light.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal races towards the door, and pulls it open.

[mogget_cat]

Beyond the door is cool, quiet darkness, smelling of sand, aged parchment, well-kept leather, and the faint scent of foxes.

There is an almighty crack from the violent, buzzing tumult around the light source. Broken bees fall in pieces of metal and fuzzy insect bodies, segmented metal legs still moving. The gigantic cyborgs amass thickly upon the light's surface, shielding it from harm and dignificantly dimming its light. With another moment of silver and the smell of hot ozone, Yrael appears again at Dr. Lecter's side.

"I believe that will keep them busy," he says, cheerfully. "Shall we?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Excellent," Dr. Lecter says. "Thank you, my friend. I think we have found the library. Or at last a library."

[mogget_cat]

The air beyond the door is still, but Yrael recognizes the scent almost immediately as they step through into the cool, greenly-lit space between two towering bookshelves. "Indeed we have," he smiles, stepping towards an open space at the end of the row, where light filters down from high above. "And one I know."

The open space turns out to be a massive circular opening in the floor, bounded by gently-carved railings. The ceiling above them also opens, the spaces between each arch carved with the likenesses of owls above the spiraling columns. The wide, open space shows other floors, both above and below, likewise filled with rows upon rows of tall bookshelves. On each floor, a bridge spans the opening's great width.

[cook_the_rude]

"This," Hannibal says, "is indeed a library of epic, if not mythical, proportions."

He looks around in wonderment: at the columns and bridges, and at the many different kinds of books stored in those shelves.

[mogget_cat]

"It is the great library of the Knowledge Spirit, Wan Shi Tong, He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things," Yrael replies as they step from the stacks and out into the open. He gives the titles and name the proper weight as he says them, for there are soft, shuffling sounds in the shadows beyond the bridge of their floor. Something large is quietly coming their way.

[cook_the_rude]

"I hope the Knowledge Spirit doesn't mind a little ignorant human scuttling about," Hannibal says, looking in the direction of the noises with quiet curiosity.

[mogget_cat]

"Humans," comes a unearthly voice in answer, its sound slightly nasal but resonant, unhurried but with a curious, contemplative tone, "are not allowed in my study."

The flat, white, almost heart-shaped face appears first in the shadows, followed by the looming form of the giant, coal-black owl. Wan Shi Tong's black eyes glitter down at them as he steps silently out onto the bridge before them. "Those who should know as much by now would do well to take that knowledge to heart."

Yrael, smiling but respectful, steps forward and bows. "I have missed our debates, Wan Shi Tong."

"You have been gone long, Yrael, Eighth of the Nine Bright Shiners, Highest of the High. Long enough even for you to forget, then, that my rules are not up for debate."

"Then I would seek your indulgence once again," Yrael replies, "for an opportunity to show you that humans are not all alike. There are those among them who are greedy, yes, and would take knowledge only to better their circumstances through the detriment of others, but there are also those who appreciate the true worth of knowledge, and would seek to better both themselves and the world around them."

The great owl seems to consider this. "You would vouch for this human, then?"

"I would."

Wan Shi Tong leans down towards the offending human until Hannibal's face is reflected in its great black eyes. "And do you, human, have anything to say for yourself?"

[cook_the_rude]

"I am a student of the world, humanity, and everything in it," Hannibal says, looking up into the great, pale, feathery face with no sign of fear. "I would be honoured to walk through your library, even if you don't allow me to touch anything."

[mogget_cat]

"Hmmmmmm," says the great owl, eyeing Hannibal with deep-seated misgivings as to the human's very capacity for being trusted.

"We will not abuse your library or its collected knowledge, Wan Shi Tong," Yrael murmurs. "You have my word."

The owl straightens, drawing itself up to its considerable height.

"Very well," it says, after a moment. "I will grant you permission to peruse my vast collection - on one condition. Any who would use the knowledge of this library must also add knowledge to it."

[cook_the_rude]

"Would some recipes be sufficient?" Hannibal asks. "I have my favourite cookbook with me."

Yrael told him to pack books, so that is what he has in his rucksack.

[mogget_cat]

"Your recipes would be welcome additions," says He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things. "For, if you are as other guests Yrael has brought, the knowledge you bring would be from other worlds than mine."

There may be an edge of hunger there, in the knowledge spirit's voice.

Yrael presents a fragile manuscript bound in dusty leather, that was not there a moment previous, to the spirit. "You expressed interest, last time I was here, in the spirit world and the interactions the people of my world with it. This is the journal of Idrach the Lesser Necromancer, who sought to subvert the rules of the living world and the river of death, to rise to power some eight centuries past. To his credit, he writes with a clear hand and meticulously recorded all he did learn before his eventual downfall. He fittingly proved once again that there is no fool like a half-learned fool. This is the only complete copy in existence."

The sound the knowledge spirit makes as his great wing brushes past the book in Yrael's hands, accepting it, is a dryly pleased laugh. Wan Shi Tong is aware that he is being bribed.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal brings out a copy of his Escoffier, complete with his own hand-written notes in the margins, copied out neatly. "Some of the most important things I know about cooking," he says, presenting the book to the giant owl.

[mogget_cat]

"Such a thing would be made more valuable by its marginalia," intones the owl, its large, black wing sweeping the book away into the darkness of its feathers, "experience being the best of teachers."

Talons silent on the stone, Wan Shi Tong moves to the edge of the bridge. "Enjoy my library," he says, and drops over the side, great wings silently carrying him down into the darkness beyond the range of sight.

[cook_the_rude]

"Have you come to look for anything specific?" Hannibal asks, turning to Yrael. "I wonder what classification system he uses."

[mogget_cat]

"I did not come with anything specific in mind, no," Yrael says, lifting his head to look up at the daylight filtering down from high above. Indirect, of course, so as not to damage the books.

"It is never assured that this place will appear, any given time I enter the labyrinth, so I tend to take it as it comes. What would you like to look for?"

A lithe, grey creature, tall for a fox, pads from a nearby row and watches them, mildly.

[cook_the_rude]

"You must be a librarian," Hannibal says to the creature. "Do you have books from Earth?"