[ Both people like her, with abilities normal humans did not have, and more abilities she had yet to display, though he did not yet elaborate which. Normally, she would never have even thought about breaching the bubble of silence she kept around herself about the things done to her and the results of them, but Hannibal was strangely talented at easing her wariness of being around people who could react unpredictably. He himself certainly had, and she was more interested by his lack of discomfort than she was about nearly everything else...nearly.
He was so close they were nearly touching, and it would have taken only a little motion from her to hand her palm flat against his chest: teleportation was tricky for her to manage at the best of times, but if he really wanted to know...she could do little worse than showing him firsthand. She rather hoped he listened to directions, though. She reached out to take his hand, her grip firm but not panicked, just tight enough to allow little in the way of startled recoil. That would have ended very badly for him indeed. ]
Think of somewhere you want to go. Think very clearly. And do not let my hand go. [ She would be able to see it, given the way she was concentrating on his face to the exclusion of all else, breathing slow and deep and steady. And the moment she had it clear in her mind, they vanished. The in-between was dark, cold, powerfully windy and the shadows that seemed to make up a blackness so thick it was nearly tangible moved in strange ways, uneasy to watch. But then everything stopped, jarring them back to solidity and stillness, and not a hair out of place on either of them. ]
[ If anyone could appreciate multifaceted answers to questions, it was Hannibal. He would assume she meant yes to both, one of which was soon answered.
Not having hours to contemplate the ideal worldly response to this question, and unable to show his face in many of his previous favorite cities that first came to mind (due to having been internationally wanted for years and now thought deceased), Hannibal's mind sabotages himself; images of his family's castle in Lithuania burst to the forefront of his mind.
And suddenly there they are, gazing upon it from the courtyard. In this, he shoots a brief, wide look of feral panic at Sinthia - which Hannibal would deal with knowing he had expressed that before her later - not because she had scared him with the teleportation, but because of where they were. This ability was truly the most incredible thing he had witnessed in his life, but it was difficult to fully compose himself. His tone is a notch darker and more distant than it had been moments ago. ] We should not be here.
[ And yet, he seems mystified by the haunted beauty around him, lost in the ambience for each individual sense, his original panic becoming something almost serene, but with violent pulses just beneath the surface. ]
Sinthia can see the change on his face, the panic, the surprise, the animal nature underneath al that careful composition--not unlike herself. She knows what she feels when the mask slips off her face, when her smile becomes a thing no longer contained and curated to show harmlessness, and it's breathtaking to see on someone else. The shade that creeps into his voice has her stepping forward again--she'd taken half a step back, knowing very well that some people did not take to instantaneous transport without physical side effects--and offering both slender hands out, palm-up. She hardly looks judgemental of his expressions, merely...curious, as if any feeling had to fight through layers of cotton wool to be seen. ] This place is beautiful. Where is it?
[ The place, the man in it...the way he changed when he realized where they were. ] I can take us back if you like.
[ It almost seems as if he has hypnotized his body in some sensory meditation. His eyes still have a sharper, more alert look and he is very in control of his movement, but physically he seems at ease and radiating a disconcerting calm that contrasted with his initial panic.
Hannibal stares, briefly transfixed on the slender, upturned hands before he raises his gaze at her voice. Body language seems to invite her closer, the initial way he leaned his head towards her hands added something vulnerable to that assessment, for those who might pick up on it. ] It is my family home.
[ Probably easier to pick up from his surface thoughts than to hear the slight change in tone that was somehow both proud, and sad. ] No, not just yet.
[ After a moment of contemplation, he reaches out a hand of his own. ] Will you come with me?
Yes. [ She shifts ever so slightly, seeming to settle as if stepping down from a cloud; she moves as gracefully as ever, smooth and powerful and aware of every inch of herself. She knows precisely where she is going in any given space, and it is a beautiful thing to see someone so capable of being dangerous with so little effort. Sithia moves to him, taking the offered hand gently, but not shy of the unknown she's getting into.
And she can hear the mingled pride and...almost regret in his tone and thoughts, as well; it leaves her wondering why, and not for the first time tonight. ] Where are we going?
[ They will have to discuss, at some point, why they both clock each other as highly dangerous, but seem drawn to each other and familiar with it, rather than the defensive sense of self-preservation that tends to usually come with encountering other predators. Even most with mutual respect were enemies and threats. ] I would say an evening stroll, but it is too dangerous to be outside at this time of night, this near the forest.
I can still get inside. [ Chiyoh had kept it maintained for years. She was probably alive out there somewhere, but he doubted she would ever come back here, unless forced. It was entirely possible, with their prisoner gone as well, he could have the home all to himself, and Sinthia's company. For as long as it was safe to stay in one place, especially his ancestral home. ]
"Do you think it is more dangerous than either of us?" she asks gently, brows lifted. She knows more than believes that Hannibal is very capable of being dangerous--men who move like him, especially without weapons, are either harmless or do not need them. And she does not think he is the former.
"I have no reason to go back, particularly." She'd come on her own to gather information, but that could be done any other time as well. "This place is...interesting. It almost reminds me of my home." Not militaristic enough to be exact, and the look of the place is entirely different, but the feel is exactly what she remembers. Vaguely foreboding, but more than fascinating enough to keep her interested.
It was not more dangerous than either of them, and her question caused him to pause and reflect on living here and being protective of his baby sister, and the years he raised her practically by himself. But those thoughts could wait.
Besides, what did a woman who could lift things with her mind and teleport have to fear of anything? βA fair point.β
He was walking them around to a side entrance where a spare key was hidden in a loose stone. βWhere is home for you?β
At the question, she was silent for a moment as she considered. "I don't actually know where I was born. But I grew up in Austria. On a military base," she elaborated quietly. She wasn't ashamed of it, but it did require a little explanation. "But I've lived all over the world. Russia, Germany, Austria, the United States, Italy, Bosnia. And where are we now?" she asked.
She could tell it was Europe by the climate, by some of the trees, but not definitely, nor where precisely on the continent they were. When Hannibal picked up the stone and the key, Sinthia took a step back to look up at the wall over the door. "I haven't been inside a castle in a very long time," Sinthia breathed. "Not one like this." She used to daydream of them, of being a princess, before...well. Before a lot of things. The childish dreams had died quick deaths in the face of the harsh realities of war. And she had adapted quickly enough to survive--and excel.
no subject
[ Both people like her, with abilities normal humans did not have, and more abilities she had yet to display, though he did not yet elaborate which. Normally, she would never have even thought about breaching the bubble of silence she kept around herself about the things done to her and the results of them, but Hannibal was strangely talented at easing her wariness of being around people who could react unpredictably. He himself certainly had, and she was more interested by his lack of discomfort than she was about nearly everything else...nearly.
He was so close they were nearly touching, and it would have taken only a little motion from her to hand her palm flat against his chest: teleportation was tricky for her to manage at the best of times, but if he really wanted to know...she could do little worse than showing him firsthand. She rather hoped he listened to directions, though. She reached out to take his hand, her grip firm but not panicked, just tight enough to allow little in the way of startled recoil. That would have ended very badly for him indeed. ]
Think of somewhere you want to go. Think very clearly. And do not let my hand go. [ She would be able to see it, given the way she was concentrating on his face to the exclusion of all else, breathing slow and deep and steady. And the moment she had it clear in her mind, they vanished. The in-between was dark, cold, powerfully windy and the shadows that seemed to make up a blackness so thick it was nearly tangible moved in strange ways, uneasy to watch. But then everything stopped, jarring them back to solidity and stillness, and not a hair out of place on either of them. ]
no subject
Not having hours to contemplate the ideal worldly response to this question, and unable to show his face in many of his previous favorite cities that first came to mind (due to having been internationally wanted for years and now thought deceased), Hannibal's mind sabotages himself; images of his family's castle in Lithuania burst to the forefront of his mind.
And suddenly there they are, gazing upon it from the courtyard. In this, he shoots a brief, wide look of feral panic at Sinthia - which Hannibal would deal with knowing he had expressed that before her later - not because she had scared him with the teleportation, but because of where they were. This ability was truly the most incredible thing he had witnessed in his life, but it was difficult to fully compose himself. His tone is a notch darker and more distant than it had been moments ago. ] We should not be here.
[ And yet, he seems mystified by the haunted beauty around him, lost in the ambience for each individual sense, his original panic becoming something almost serene, but with violent pulses just beneath the surface. ]
no subject
Now that is most interesting.
Sinthia can see the change on his face, the panic, the surprise, the animal nature underneath al that careful composition--not unlike herself. She knows what she feels when the mask slips off her face, when her smile becomes a thing no longer contained and curated to show harmlessness, and it's breathtaking to see on someone else. The shade that creeps into his voice has her stepping forward again--she'd taken half a step back, knowing very well that some people did not take to instantaneous transport without physical side effects--and offering both slender hands out, palm-up. She hardly looks judgemental of his expressions, merely...curious, as if any feeling had to fight through layers of cotton wool to be seen. ] This place is beautiful. Where is it?
[ The place, the man in it...the way he changed when he realized where they were. ] I can take us back if you like.
no subject
Hannibal stares, briefly transfixed on the slender, upturned hands before he raises his gaze at her voice. Body language seems to invite her closer, the initial way he leaned his head towards her hands added something vulnerable to that assessment, for those who might pick up on it. ] It is my family home.
[ Probably easier to pick up from his surface thoughts than to hear the slight change in tone that was somehow both proud, and sad. ] No, not just yet.
[ After a moment of contemplation, he reaches out a hand of his own. ] Will you come with me?
no subject
And she can hear the mingled pride and...almost regret in his tone and thoughts, as well; it leaves her wondering why, and not for the first time tonight. ] Where are we going?
no subject
I can still get inside. [ Chiyoh had kept it maintained for years. She was probably alive out there somewhere, but he doubted she would ever come back here, unless forced. It was entirely possible, with their prisoner gone as well, he could have the home all to himself, and Sinthia's company. For as long as it was safe to stay in one place, especially his ancestral home. ]
Unless you would rather return?
no subject
"I have no reason to go back, particularly." She'd come on her own to gather information, but that could be done any other time as well. "This place is...interesting. It almost reminds me of my home." Not militaristic enough to be exact, and the look of the place is entirely different, but the feel is exactly what she remembers. Vaguely foreboding, but more than fascinating enough to keep her interested.
no subject
Besides, what did a woman who could lift things with her mind and teleport have to fear of anything? βA fair point.β
He was walking them around to a side entrance where a spare key was hidden in a loose stone. βWhere is home for you?β
no subject
She could tell it was Europe by the climate, by some of the trees, but not definitely, nor where precisely on the continent they were. When Hannibal picked up the stone and the key, Sinthia took a step back to look up at the wall over the door. "I haven't been inside a castle in a very long time," Sinthia breathed. "Not one like this." She used to daydream of them, of being a princess, before...well. Before a lot of things. The childish dreams had died quick deaths in the face of the harsh realities of war. And she had adapted quickly enough to survive--and excel.