[It sounds different in Hannibal's ears. Metal screams like people, like children, high pitched and frightened. He kicks, kicks, rewrites the sounds in his mind. It shouldn't be difficult - it shouldn't be a problem at all. In some small, brief moments of clarity, when he stops to catch his breath and lift his prize, he feels as though his control is slipping away between his fingers, sand pulled out during the tide. It sparks a cold sweat along the back of his neck - and a moment later, it's gone altogether.
He watches Will walk outside, closes the distance to the bars where he can begin shaping and sharpening his weapon. Where he can keep a close eye on the other man.
He doesn't smile at the obvious statement: he waits for the correction, listening to the metal sing and the glass break.]
A carnival.
[He could leave it at that, force Will to discover the rest for himself. He's tempted.]
Use the shirt as a handle.
[It's a formidable knife, but easy to break: Hannibal wants something sturdier.]
There are piranhas on level three. It's quite flooded.
spam
He watches Will walk outside, closes the distance to the bars where he can begin shaping and sharpening his weapon. Where he can keep a close eye on the other man.
He doesn't smile at the obvious statement: he waits for the correction, listening to the metal sing and the glass break.]
A carnival.
[He could leave it at that, force Will to discover the rest for himself. He's tempted.]
Use the shirt as a handle.
[It's a formidable knife, but easy to break: Hannibal wants something sturdier.]
There are piranhas on level three. It's quite flooded.