#clarice.

rage is a quiet thing ; you think that you've tamed it . . . but it's just lying in wait . . . role reversal au edit.

the concept of the holy trinity comprises the three persons or faces of god from ultimately the same body/source. @stagstalked ; @roseguided.

SEND ME SOUNDTRACK TO SEE WHAT SONG(s) WOULD PLAY WHEN OUR MUSES ARE ON SCREEN : @consumare temp. 

she wouldn't be surprised if will had known she was coming to find him. that she was close enough on his trail that clarice had figured out where he might be. hannibal was still in the wind, of course - he always seemed to be slipping through her fingers, but her and the rest of her department had been surprised he left will behind. clarice watches will's back as she quietly approaches, staying alert, leaving her holster unclasped in case she needed to reach for her gun, but walking casually enough toward him. sitting on a bench, it seems like he'd been waiting for her ; a fact that makes clarice both weary and intrigued. 'everyone thinks you're dead, y'know,' wide birth is given around the man, agent starling finally strolling to the front of will, where she can get a good look at his face. 'all th'boys back at th'bureau - you're basically a cold case now, mr. graham,' speaking of the bureau, no one knew she had gone to find him by herself, but will didn't need to know that fact, quite yet. @frightes.

she hadn't been careful enough, this time. not enough planning, too much urgency in her movements. he'd gotten the best of her for long enough to slice open her shoulder, a gash that would leave a scar bigger than any of her others, but he did not get away. her injury may have slowed her down, but not enough for the man to get away from her. even as she tied him up and knifed him down, he called her a crazy bitch, his tears falling into the grass until the screaming and crying stopped all together. her kills were never messy, nor complicated. she meant to kill them, not put them on display, but clarice was always happy to cut off their wedding ring finger and take it with her. she'd hid it away in her car, covered in plastic wrap and stuffed into an ice filled cooler, before she left the scene and made her way toward the emergency room. 'doesn't hurt that bad, fortunately. sure it looks worse than it actually is,' clarice allows doctor king to help remove her jacket, agent refusing to wince at the pain shooting down her arm. next came her shirt, bloodied where it should be white, slid from her small frame to leave her shoulders bare for the resident to see. @faerys.