Will Graham (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
empathicfault) wrote2023-02-20 08:07 pm
empathicfault) wrote2023-02-20 08:07 pm
PSL: Travels outside the Barge (w/Malcolm)
Piloting their new ship is a little difficult. It takes reading the (somehow enclosed) manual back-to-front and learning the control panel, now situated in what looks like a little closet on the window side of the living room. It's in the new hallway that leads to the small courtyard, which Will intends to decorate once they get this one chore done first.
Thankfully, the majority of the controls are intuition-based, going off the person who puts their hand on a small orb on the panel. The rest, as it turns out, is tweaking. And luckily (or otherwise), no tweaking is necessary for their first flight.
They're heading to Will's home world.
But Will doesn't specify where, just a year later than he left. he inadvertently brings them to where he'd left. The door opens from a wall of Hannibal's cliffside home, and looks out onto the driveway. The Dragon's wings are still there, staining the cement. They overlook the grey day and the churning seaside.
Will finds himself stuck in the doorway, unsure whether he's compelled to walk out and remember or slam the door shut and take them elsewhere.
Thankfully, the majority of the controls are intuition-based, going off the person who puts their hand on a small orb on the panel. The rest, as it turns out, is tweaking. And luckily (or otherwise), no tweaking is necessary for their first flight.
They're heading to Will's home world.
But Will doesn't specify where, just a year later than he left. he inadvertently brings them to where he'd left. The door opens from a wall of Hannibal's cliffside home, and looks out onto the driveway. The Dragon's wings are still there, staining the cement. They overlook the grey day and the churning seaside.
Will finds himself stuck in the doorway, unsure whether he's compelled to walk out and remember or slam the door shut and take them elsewhere.
no subject
-but not for long. Will can see the black tar overtake Jack, ink spilling out around him. Jack doesn't look up to speak, just continues lying on the ground, where he's been put.
"Sounds to me like you didn't finish your work then, Will. Because Lecter's out there. Alive. Set up a display on the anniversary of your 'death.'" Jack looks back at Will, sees Will's face paling. "How could you not know? It was all over every goddamned newspaper!"
no subject
"If you were ever good at this job, it's been a while. Your heart isn't in it anymore. So how do you know it was Lecter and not an acolyte or admirer picking his moment to become a copycat?" he asks with simple curiosity. "Will wasn't here to consult. So... how can you be sure?"
no subject
Jack looks up at his face. "Take a look at my files if you don't believe me. If you're the only one who would know, might as well look."
"I don't look for you anymore," Will snaps. But he does want to know.
He turns to stare at Malcolm for a moment and takes a calming breath. He says to Malcolm, "Watch him. He'll try to regain mobility as soon as I take my foot off of him." Unsaid but obvious- Jack will underestimate Malcolm's physical capabilities.
Will looks down the hall. He steps a little harder on the broken hand before releasing it, hoping for some disorientation before Jack tries anything. And then he's heading for Jack's bag, an overstuffed soft briefcase with files and his computer inside.
no subject
Jack just watches him until his attention wanders back to the photos on the fridge.
But Will probably hears one scream from the other room and when he returns, Jack's broken hand is pinned to the kitchen table with a butcher knife from the block on the counter and Malcolm is perched on the counter beside the block now, eating a Twizzlers from his pocket.
He looks up when Will returns. "I missed both the ulnar and median nerves on purpose. He's welcome."