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[ 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. ]

Unless you would rather return?

"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? “A fair point.”

He was walking them around to a side entrance where a spare key was hidden in a loose stone. “Where is home for you?”

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.

Edited 2024-01-26 19:26 (UTC)