milliways_bar | (no subject)

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hannibal lecter

(no subject)

Dr. Hannibal Lecter is sitting near the fireplace today, drinking coffee and sketching.

If you look over his shoulder, you may discover that he has been sketching either you, or some random patrons as the disciples in Leonardo's Last Supper, or maybe just the fish in the fireplace, or the face of the baseball presenter on the bar TV.

Whatever it is, he will be willing to share coffee or talk art.

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Jay's in the bar, having just come up from the garage. With him are a cloud of six hive drones. The juveniles - egg-like in size and shape, and the green of sea glass.

They stay low, avoiding Jim's surveillance bots, just buzzing around, checking things out and chirping happily.

One of them drifts over to where Hannibal is, chirping curiously at the drawing of the Last Supper.

"You must be one of Jay's bots," Hannibal says, turning the drawing so they can see.

This may not be the only version he is doing, but in this drawing, Sherlock is in the place of Jesus, Sinric take the place of the apostle John, and Jim is St. Peter.

The drone chirps an affirmative and bobs a nod. He croons a note that sound not unlike George.

He croons a pleased little sound and scans the page. There's a flickering of light and a buzz as he considers this. A moment later he projects light over the page, filling other figures in with Ragnar and Athelstan, Ysal and Hannibal himself. He has no sense of the religious connotation but he manages to render the projection in appropriate colours for the period.

"The white lady," Hannibal muses. "Yes, that might be a good placement for her. But here, I'd like Yrael."

He points.

George beeps an affirmative and dissolved the scene, reforming it with the figures in the order Hannibal requests.

"George?" Jay calls. "You okay there? Hope you're not bothering Dr Lecter?"

George chirps an enthusiastic response.

"Hello, Jay!" Dr. Lecter calls. "No, it's fine -- just artistic cooperation. Isn't it, George?"

George chatters enthusiastically, saying something Jay can understand, judging by the way Jay chuckles. "Ah huh. As long as you're both having fun."

Not like Hannibal can eat the drones.

George makes an enthusiastic sounds and projects an image of Jay as David onto Hannibal's page.

Hannibal laughs, and starts pencilling him in.

Jay comes over to peek over Hannibal's shoulder. "Oi!" He bats playfully at George. "No giving away all my secrets, hey?"

George makes a little giggling sound and projects a pair of Superman boxer shorts over the image.

"I was going to add a fig leaf," Hannibal says, smiling up at Jay with a smile. "I try not to be rude, after all."

"I think I'd prefer that to the Superman boxers." Jay shakes his head, more bemused than offended.

"That would make my drawing rather odd," Hannibal says, smiling.

Jay glances at the Last Supper sketch. "Interesting choice. I hope that cute little blonde isn't too tangled with that nutjob."

"Nutjob?" Hannibal asks. "Sherlock?"

"Jim." Jay shrugs. "But as much as I like him, I have a feeling Sherlock could be just as dangerous."

"Friends with the one, hated by the other," Hannibal says. "Have you met Sinric at all? The little blond?"

"Only in passing, as a friend to the Vikings." Jay shrugs again. "He seems like a nice kid."

"He is much more than that," Hannibal says. "Jim is a friend, buut I would hate to see him torment Sinric yet again."

"Is the kid in danger?" Jay asks, his tone protective.

He waves to the other drones who spread out and start projecting a white noise field to interferes with Jim's surveillance drones.

"Perhaps not immediately," Hannibal says. "But the drones keeping an eye on him might help."

Jay holds his hand out, giving Ringo a gentle scratch. "They really like Ragnar so I'm sure if I asked they, they'd look out for him."

"I'm sure that would help everybody except Jim a great lot," Hannibal says.

Jay nods, "I'll have a chat to the hive. See what they say. They're not real keen on Jim. They don't much like the surveillance drones."

"The ones he makes?" Hannibal says. "They're neither autonomous nor intelligent."

George hums emphatically and growls up at the things beyond the rafters.