mason you are tearing me apart

[verged]

[Look, man, I made the account. I didn't realize a Mason was going to friend you. This is legitimately not my fault. Don't go blubbering now. Is that too much to ask?]

I believe psychologists would have a great many things to say about someone who takes such delight in the torment of people, fictional or otherwise.

This is hardly a good idea.

Comments

[tothedogs]

[Breathes]

[tothedogs]

[Breathes]

[tothedogs]

[Breathes]

[tothedogs]

Cordeeeellll... who are you talking to?

[verged]

[A-ah...no, this isn't good. This isn't good at all. Inside, his heart is breaking. If he had make up, it might be flaking.

Let's be real, Cordell hasn't smiled in like ten fucking years. It's not happening for all the money in the world.]

...no one of importance.

[eidetikerwill]

[These are the moments that Will is glad he never had to see Mason except in crime scene photographs. Or what happened to any of them later.]

[verged]

[Do you dream much, Will? Cordell thinks of you never. Hope that's okay.]

Can I help you?

[eidetikerwill]

[That's perfectly fine. You've got better things to think on and do. Really. No need to bother with lil old him.]

Just passing through. Think someone was calling you.

[verged]

[He also doesn't like to think of pigs. It's okay. You're in good company in Cordell's "Things Not To Think About" category. Pigs can be cute, after all.]

Do you know my name? How would you know if someone was calling me otherwise?

[eidetikerwill]

[Pigs, maybe? Boars? No. Being not ever thought about by any of Verger's camp is A-Okay in Will's little just post Dolarhyde's faked death world.]

A lucky guess. Aren't many around someone could be calling for. Car broke down up the road.

[No one lies with an easy smile he doesn't feel like a profiler.]

Where's the nearest gas station?

[honorher]

They tend not to care about that.

[verged]

I've managed to pick that much up. I'm not the first around of hers around this place, after all.

[honorher]

Good to know.

I'd hate to be someone's first time.

[verged]

[Well, that sure is a hell of a thing to say.]

Yours has done a few rodeos before, too, you mean?

[honorher]

[It's true.]

Yeah. A lot. It's like she's got nothing better to do with her time.

[politesse]

If you're seeking a professional generalization, I believe Tropophobia may suit best.

[ Helpful! Wait, that's not even close to what you've accused your mun of, is it? Hmm... ]

Did he leave you anything of the estate?

[ He suspects not. Mason was always such a selfish boy, not to mention a sadist. If there was a will, Dr. Lecter would hazard a bet that Cordell's name appears once: as the appointed executor of the will. Hannibal can't see a better last laugh at the dutiful doctor's expense than requesting he see that all of Mason's assets were meted out according to his wishes: away from Cordell's benefit.

Hannibal would like to hope Mason would have at least had the decency to alot the man his usual salary for managing the arduous probate, but he wouldn't afford Mason the benefit of the doubt for much of anything. ]

[verged]

[Well, well, if it isn't Cordell's lord and savior himself, come to...what? Poke fun at him not having been left a sum of money so grand he could live comfortably on it for the rest of his life?

In Mason's presence, Cordell generally looks like he's on the verge of breaking down into tears. Or killing himself. Or both, really. In Hannibal's presence, he's doing his best to look calm under any sort of pressure (really, being in Lecter's presence at all and knowing who he is is pressure enough), though it doesn't work so well when his voice cracks.]

That's a legal matter, D—Doctor Lecter. I'm not really able to discuss it.

[Maybe he got a superpowered wheelchair left to him. Maybe he got a series of calendars of babies in plant and animal outfits. Maybe he got nothing at all. Maybe he just skipped town and refused to play executor, he doesn't have to say!]

[politesse]

[ He looks at ease, as if they're having this conversation after a pleasant lunch on the veranda. He certainly doesn't seem aggressive, but then, he never does until it's too late for anything to properly be done about it. It's a bit crocodilian. ]

You realize that's more a defense on the behalf of your late employer than an excuse not to answer. I'm sure you can understand why I find that an intriguing sentiment.

[verged]

[Are there dogs in sight from the veranda? Are they eating pork? Ham and cheese sandwiches, for simplicity's sake? Then it wouldn't be very pleasant at all, would it?]

I haven't discussed the matter of my employer's estate with anyone who wasn't involved. Why would you be the first?

[He's wondering if Hannibal's going to outright state that Cordell owes him, essentially, everything. Freedom from an awful situation (that, granted, he got himself into and didn't know how to get out at the end of it all), freedom from being convicted of the crime he actually committed, freedom to commit the crime...does Cordell owe him an answer? Of course he does. He knows he does. He's just wondering what sort of man, exactly, this Doctor Hannibal Lecter actually is outside of...well, the last time they met.]

[politesse]

Because I'm not asking after your employer's estate; I'm asking whether or not you were recognized as his caretaker and confidant. That makes it a personal inquiry, not a legal matter. There's no better evidence of our appreciation than who we name as inheritors of what's left of us, after we die.

With death comes honesty.

[ He tilts his head. ]

So tell me, Cordell: was there any evidence, in the end, that he ever loved you? Did he take measures to provide for you after his death, as you had provided for him in life?

[sociability]

I think they really only have the one word, if you think about it.

Everyone's just coming out of the woodwork, lately.

[verged]

What single word are you thinking of?

[sociability]

Starts with an S, named after a marquis.

It's like word bingo.

[verged]

It's better than "lunatic" or "insane," I'll give you that much.

[sociability]

Better is debatable. Even the so-called insane operate by their own set of rules, it's still... you can negotiate. If you tried.