no kidding. yeah, seems is the keyword in that.

yeah, yet. aside from the occasional soft creaks in the large cabin, it seems like it’s abandoned.

there’s silence, but hannibal’s head perks up at hearing the sound of another person. that voice.. sounds familiar.

he hears it better and puts his ear close to the wall, trying to hear him better. it can’t be him, can it? the xiii he knows doesn’t even really know ( too ) much about the cabin. plus he’s doubtful he’d go all the way to canada for him.

xiii’s still xiii, different or not he loves the man unconditionally even if he’s a little different. he taps gently against the wall, just trying to get his attention.

sort of. be kinda fun to see just how different he is though. he leans his foot back and forth, making a creaking sound in the cabin.

well that’s wonderful, though an interesting change of pace! he walked away in the walls, making some steps heavier than others.

as most things typically are. there’s nobody there it seems. hannibal stops after a bit and leans his head against the wall. trying to hear him.

he taps against the wall gently this time, just with a finger. he wants not only to get him to stay, but to stir up a reaction. to hear him.

he finds himself smiling wide once he hears his voice. it’s been too long since he has, different xiii or not. he places a hand on the wall, hitting it roughly against it.

he bangs against it again, almost on the verge of laughter he’s so excited. he’s here, he’s really really here.

he almost laughs, but strains himself as to not. he’s here, he’s really really here! still, him. him all the same. as much as the other xiii is him at least..

hannibal doesn’t even think before he’s moving forward, strong enough to break the weak walls and reaches out for him. sort of—? oh no, no, he will be all to himself.

his strength is rather impressive for somebody who appears to be generally scrawny with that sweater and baggy pants, not letting go at all even with him struggling. oh dear indeed.

hannibal practically squeals under his mask, hands a firm but tender grip on the other. he pulls a hand away, intending to grab a syringe from his pocket. oh no, not at all.

(imagine if i was actually active here-

(you and me both 😔

a pang in his heart, a lump in his throat; it feels like a gut shot, all too familiar; lethal still.

hannibal’s playing with a few of his rabbits, gently moving his hand back and forth across the fur with a small hum to himself. he should probably check on his little guest later, but for the moment he’s content here.

oh he’s just fine! hannibal’s brought him food and water continually, all the stuff he needs.