Slevin Kelevra (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
andyougoleft) wrote2014-01-28 02:52 pm
andyougoleft) wrote2014-01-28 02:52 pm
|: 008. Spam/Video : See Me, Hear Me, But Don't Touch Me :|
[ Spam for Hannibal Lecter ]
[Slevin has been working for several months to get to this day. This is the point of no return, the first domino, the peak of the track before the drop - once he's passed this, once he's pushed this piece, all he can do is commit to the fall and accept where it goes.
Well. Unless he doesn't.
He's taken care to come across as mostly under the radar, or if he accidentally ends up above the wire, harmless. He runs his mouth but he never does anything. In the Barge environment, that has been especially easy to do. Now, though, he checks that the Glock he picked up in Los Angeles is still loaded (it is) and clean (it is), and slides it away into his waistband; a knife, too, tucked into his pocket, also from Los Angeles, his favorite black hoodie - roomie and bulky and chosen precisely for these qualities - settled comfortably over both. He'd have liked to have the glasses, but they were traded away for another point in his favor in this long game. It's all about to pay off, or flop.
He closes the door behind him on his way out of his cabin, and moves for the dining hall to locate his target. He doesn't even hesitate.
Hannibal hasn't been out and about much, but when he does he keeps to a routine that would be difficult enough to process through the breaks unless one were watching for exactly that; Slevin has been. It's simple, when he spots him in the dining hall, to know where he'll be if he's going to be out later tonight. Slevin finishes his own dinner, and then leaves to intercept him in the hallway.
Level 2 is risky - it's busier than the deeper levels, and the infirmary being so near could save Hannibal if Slevin is interrupted - but that's never really bothered him, and it is objectively the emptiest level anyway. It will, regardless, be quick.]
[ Private to Chris D'Amico : Video : Later ]
[Chris has seen Slevin go distant and detached a few times now; this is slightly different, but related. He looks confused as well when he comes on the screen, and he's staring at something out of frame, something on the floor, expectantly; he's in a dark room that is not his. A few moments of stillness, of silence, and then Slevin speaks in a voice matching his expression, still without looking.]
Chris, I.
I think I may have made a mistake.
[ Zero Spam : OPEN ]
[Slevin was expecting to be spending some time in a cell in Zero when he started this. It's a price he's willing to pay, for what he'd expected to gain from it.
Maybe he was right. Maybe he was wrong. It's difficult to tell from where he's settled on the cot in the cell, leaned back against the bars, feet crossed on the bed and arms folded over his chest, sitting quietly in thought. It is, now, a waiting game.]
[Slevin has been working for several months to get to this day. This is the point of no return, the first domino, the peak of the track before the drop - once he's passed this, once he's pushed this piece, all he can do is commit to the fall and accept where it goes.
Well. Unless he doesn't.
He's taken care to come across as mostly under the radar, or if he accidentally ends up above the wire, harmless. He runs his mouth but he never does anything. In the Barge environment, that has been especially easy to do. Now, though, he checks that the Glock he picked up in Los Angeles is still loaded (it is) and clean (it is), and slides it away into his waistband; a knife, too, tucked into his pocket, also from Los Angeles, his favorite black hoodie - roomie and bulky and chosen precisely for these qualities - settled comfortably over both. He'd have liked to have the glasses, but they were traded away for another point in his favor in this long game. It's all about to pay off, or flop.
He closes the door behind him on his way out of his cabin, and moves for the dining hall to locate his target. He doesn't even hesitate.
Hannibal hasn't been out and about much, but when he does he keeps to a routine that would be difficult enough to process through the breaks unless one were watching for exactly that; Slevin has been. It's simple, when he spots him in the dining hall, to know where he'll be if he's going to be out later tonight. Slevin finishes his own dinner, and then leaves to intercept him in the hallway.
Level 2 is risky - it's busier than the deeper levels, and the infirmary being so near could save Hannibal if Slevin is interrupted - but that's never really bothered him, and it is objectively the emptiest level anyway. It will, regardless, be quick.]
[ Private to Chris D'Amico : Video : Later ]
[Chris has seen Slevin go distant and detached a few times now; this is slightly different, but related. He looks confused as well when he comes on the screen, and he's staring at something out of frame, something on the floor, expectantly; he's in a dark room that is not his. A few moments of stillness, of silence, and then Slevin speaks in a voice matching his expression, still without looking.]
Chris, I.
I think I may have made a mistake.
[ Zero Spam : OPEN ]
[Slevin was expecting to be spending some time in a cell in Zero when he started this. It's a price he's willing to pay, for what he'd expected to gain from it.
Maybe he was right. Maybe he was wrong. It's difficult to tell from where he's settled on the cot in the cell, leaned back against the bars, feet crossed on the bed and arms folded over his chest, sitting quietly in thought. It is, now, a waiting game.]
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But when confronted with the cell he'll be occupying for the next several days, he hesitates. It isn't fear; he's not afraid of prison, especially not here where he has nothing to lose, not even days off his life.
Something else.]
I've killed a lot of people, Chris. It's just a job. Like wrapping up a hamburger or ringing up groceries.
I thought... I've never had an investment in it past the money before. Bad business. But I thought this would be different.
I thought this would feel different.
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If it doesn't feel different, then what the fuck was it all for?
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I don't know.
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Think about it over the next three days. I'll go talk to Mal, get shit sorted out in the meantime.
You want anything while you're here?
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He shakes his head and walks through, moving to sit down on the cot. Might as well get as comfortable as he can.]
No.
Three days? You don't think you're going to catch any grief for that?
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...Don't....tell anyone I said that. Sets a bad example, or something. Don't do it again and we're cool.
But there's seriously nothing anyone can do to wipe the smug grin off that shit-eater's face, so I'm not even going to try.
Anyway. I'll come down during lunch so we can eat together. Cool?
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As long as I only take out people that deserve it, it's less of a problem?
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I'm just trying to figure out what the lesson's supposed to be for amateur brain surgery.
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I'll wait here.
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[at last, Chris closes the door on Slevin, looking at him through the bars]
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Leaning his head back against the bars he's got his back against, Slevin looks right back at his warden, arms folded over his stomach. His expression is difficult to read.]
Good luck.
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