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cellarmonsters asked:
"Do you work here in this museum? I'm sort of lost, I'm not sure where to start with the exhibition.."
bitsofscalpandcomets
Randall looked up at the man and nodded at the question. He walked over quietly, avoiding the manâs eyes by looking downwards as he spoke. âDo you have a museum map?â
âI donât,â Sam winces with an awkward smile. âI came here with a couple of friends and while I was checking out some of the displays, they ditched me.â
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When you get this reply with 5 things that make you happy and send this to the last 10 people in your activity :)
1. WRITING / DRAWING2. BOOKS!!!!3. Warm blankets in winter, soft pillows, stuffed animals and cuddles.4. Good food.5. Home and family and friends.
When you get this reply with 5 things that make you happy and send this to the last 10 people in your activity :)
1. Steve Buscemi
2. Quentin Tarantino
3. Reservoir Dogs
4. Pizza
5. socks
bitsofscalpandcomets liked for a starter of doom.
He rests on the floor amid shattered glass and blood. The dogs are barking and whining, and Will's vision is swimming. He knocked his head against the floor and everything is blurred at the edges. There is a monster looming over him- a beast of bone and leather and flesh. He can see the gleam of eyes peering from the shadows cast by the skull. âR-Randall...?â His voice is strained- the beast's weigh is pressed onto his chest. A warm trickle of blood courses down his face- there are bits of glass there, half burrowed into his skin. âY-you don't... have to do this...â
Randall shifted uncomfortably in the chair as the woman sat across from him. He glance up, meeting her eyes and staring at them until she looked away. He was never one to look away first, this way he expressed dominance but this woman was nice. She smiled at him, reassuring and didn't speak to him like he was lesser due to the way his mind worked. She spoke with understanding and empathy. It comforted him. "I don't know where to start..." He said softly.
[ bitsofscalpandcomets ]
She stared at him for a long moment, waiting until he was ready to talk to her. There was no rush, at least not on Alanaâs part. They first needed to get over uncomfortable first appointments to trust the other. Otherwise, this would be useless. He finally spoke, his quiet tone made her smile, as a way to let him know that he could be free to tell her whatever he needed to. âWe can always start from the beginning, how are you feeling today?â
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Randall hadn't moved from the floor once the man got off him. He merely stared up at the ceiling, wondering why he wasn't dead. Hands hand been on either side of his head not long ago, ready to snap his neck but they never moved. They just held him for a long moment before letting go. He could hear dogs whimper and the occasional jug of a bottle of whiskey being emptied into a glass. "Why didn't you kill me?" He asked after a long while.
His hand was shaking. Whiskey sloshed over the brim ofthe glass and dribbled through the stubble that covered his jaw. Heswallowed hard, savoring the burn of the alcohol against his throat.It splashed into his stomach and after a few glasses, the chill thathad settled into his bones began to fade. His shivering had almoststopped completely, but his hands would not cease their faintshudders. The sound of the man's voice startled him- he'd hoped thatmaybe all of this was one of his all too vivid nightmares. His eyescut to Randall then quickly lurched away, focusing on the empty glassin his hand. âI'm... I'm not a killer.â Â He wasn't surewho he was trying to convince- Tier or himself.
{ ~ bitsofscalpandcomets ~ } :
Randall kept his eyes on the book in the manâs hands rather than on his face. He watched as it was set aside before looking to the name bar sitting on the desk that read, âDr. Frederick Chiltonâ. He listened as the man explained he didnât usually take referrals. He nodded, âDoctor Lecter said youâd say thatâŚbut also said that you would find me interesting.â He let out a sigh before answering, âRandall Tier.â
           Chilton noted the reluctance which seemed to dictate          the man's every  action; it was almost as if he had all of          the  time  in  the  world.  Chilton  leaned  in,  already          curious about this  man, and why Hannibal thought that          he  would  take  as  much interest  in Randall as he did.
                 â â Did he, now?â The doctor raised                an   eyebrow,  then  pulled  out  his                notebook. âVery well. Speak.â
"You're crazy"
"And thatâs why we make such good pals."
