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.]
spam
He's been avoiding him, just like Cassel wanted ever since their conversation before Christmas; this is no mean feat, considering they're neighbors, but Slevin has accomplished far trickier. He only gets caught up by neighbors when he's not expecting them at all, nor they him.
The knitting is more of a surprise and shouldn't be; the cookies aren't and should be. Slevin does not move off the bed, or even turn his head, tracking Cassel's progress with dark, unreadable eyes.]
As far as I can tell, murdering the right guy does get you special treatment. Which I seem to have done.
spam
[Cassel snorts. Purl one, knit two together. This is gonna be a bitching scarf.]
Nah. It's about the fact that cookies are delicious. Besides, you know that saying about idle hands? It applies double to me. Really, you're doing me a favor.
spam
You're the one who brought up murder.
[He just watches for several minutes, apparently uninterested in replying. Then:]
So why haven't I gotten cookies before, then?
spam
[Cassel raises his eyebrows, like Slevin has just asked literally the dumbest question ever.]
Cookies are for Zero.
spam
Purl one, knit two together. He doesn't know what this will end up being, all told.]
I stayed out of your face.
spam
[Cassel glances up, just for a second, then looks down again, afraid of dropping a stitch.]
I appreciate that. You want me to get out of your face now? 'Cause I will.
[Maybe.]
spam
He doesn't believe Cassel. That much he makes no secret of, a small wordless sound of doubt catching in his throat, and he tightens his arms across his chest.]
Depends on why you're here.
If it's just cookies, whatever. You can stay. If you're taking advantage of me being trapped here for any other reason, you can fuck right off.