[ It's a game; he realizes it when word reaches him. The monsters in their suits and ties, all moving at his behest. Hannibal's mirror-gaze turned upon them, reflecting back their terrible, beautiful ugliness. He's hardly the first to play at this; Crane did it, ol' Jerry Arkham, they've done it on a grander scale. Hannibal wants them to dance, to flinch and twist on a hook at their inner horrors revealed. ]
[ The decision to play along is a hard one. Harvey puts on a suit that, in another world, would cost upward of twenty-five thousand dollars, and is made to fit his body like a glove, and comes up to remind the other man that he's hardly top predator on the boat-- Harvey isn't either, but he still elevates himself to a position above the cannibal. ]
[ His disdain for it all barely shows; leaking out at the tightness of the corner of his eyes, the occasional line of his mouth. Abigail's portrait infuriates him but he keeps the fury to microtells, the roll of his shoulders as he leaves the piece behind. Anya's is lovely, and very her. The others don't move him nearly so intensely as Abigail's though; even his own perfect portrait doesn't stir more than the vaguest of irritations. ]
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[ The decision to play along is a hard one. Harvey puts on a suit that, in another world, would cost upward of twenty-five thousand dollars, and is made to fit his body like a glove, and comes up to remind the other man that he's hardly top predator on the boat-- Harvey isn't either, but he still elevates himself to a position above the cannibal. ]
[ His disdain for it all barely shows; leaking out at the tightness of the corner of his eyes, the occasional line of his mouth. Abigail's portrait infuriates him but he keeps the fury to microtells, the roll of his shoulders as he leaves the piece behind. Anya's is lovely, and very her. The others don't move him nearly so intensely as Abigail's though; even his own perfect portrait doesn't stir more than the vaguest of irritations. ]