#labratkatz

☽ for a half-asleep thought my muse has about yours

Lights out. Will settles into his cot, a stiff bunching of foam and hay, in which he predicted was older than him. A man in white hovers just outside his cell as the overhead light shutters into darkness. All that is left on is the light sterilizing his own cot, hung above his head. 

His eyelids grow heavy, his fingers unfurl, his breathing deepened into waves. Behind closed eyes, he saw the flickering light, burning through, insisting to be seen behind the curtain of fatigue. Sleep came slow. Like flickers of lightning, slowly, he faded into a nightmare. 

Beverly stood, eyes an unfocused black. Her fingers tensed over a gun that had already been unloaded, however, the fingers were stiff for another reason other than fear— Death had colored this picture. He bolts to her side, taking her cold cheeks in his hands, her name on his lips like a hemn. If it could only be her name that could bring her back. His fingers tremble through her hair, tangling immediately. His breath starts to come more unsteadily, almost as if there was less air to spare for his lungs. His eyes blur where hers stared blankly. Withdrawing, he sees his hands are stained. A pail crimson liquid pools in his palms, and drips from each finger.

His eyes flutter open, warranting shallow breaths, wanting of air. He lifts a hand, watches it shake, shining black in the pale light of the cell. His fingers descend onto his clammy cheeks, raking through his damp curls. After a while, sleep touches his eyes, softening his harsh breathing, he is lulled into a dream— forgetting his worries. 

send me a tumblr url anon or not and I'll talk about them

Goodness. [I'll keep them more brief]

telepathiclabrat: This player has mastered something I have yet to achieve- the ability to be flawlessly in character in both para and script threads. I've attempted script threads a few times, but it always breaks out into random prose and causes my replies to slow down. I've always been overwhelmingly impressed with people and players who have such a handle on the character's voice that they don't need to rely on outside descriptors. It's a talent. It's a talent that is undervalued so frequently.

faxwhispererdonna: HOLY CRAPOLA. This is a blast from the past. I adore this girl, I really do. Her Donna was delightful as donuts when the sign is lit up at Krispy Kreme. Her Donna was brassy and smart with a nice clipped Frank Capra style. I haven't played with her in... 2 years? But if she's lurking around in the hannibal fandom someone should let me know.

labratkatz: I've done one aborted thread with this mun. I don't know if they're still active, but I remember enjoying the sharp cynicism that was brought to the portrayal countered by a brusque professionalism to the characterization. It was everything I enjoy about Beverly as a character. Hopefully season 2 will flush them back out.

quietandsweet: Man, I adore this girl and she knows it. I think we've known each other for about two years now? I had an incredible time playing with her OC who has gone through some fun growth and transformations. She's always interested in new ideas and new threads, meeting new players. Basically, she's a rad mun with a rad muse.

She smelled like gunpowder and vitriol, spicy and aware. Hannibal had noticed her the way it was impossible to walk into a grocer near Christmas without the wave of cinnamon and its' snapping cloy of fire. He'd made a point of watching her when he was given the opportunity, the three collecting samples and science from a scene. Price was cordial with a large nose and simple hat, quieter and dry witted. Zeller was like watching a sausage fill, bristling with fennel and grease to cover the reality of what was inside. Beverly Katz, however, was something else. He watched the frank way she moved through a scene, the careful steps and keen eye. He wondered idly if her house was messy, an organization that would only make sense in her own head as she ate takeout from white Styrofoam containers.

He took a momentary leave of Will where he was sitting, sipping the coffee Hannibal had handed him as he recovered from the assault of his gift. He moved loudly through the brush, purposefully cracking twigs as he steered through the already present footprints in the aching wet of winter mud. His coat was clean, catching on brambles that rolled in the brier patch, looping and ducking under the softer untouched snowdrifts. The white had been stained pink in places, the heavier saturation of arterial spray gone brown and brackish. The bodies were covered and the team was picking their way through the scene with a singleness of purpose. He paused, watching Beverly bend to pluck a single strand of hair from the mud.

I really like both of those. They remind me of Will but both in different ways.

ooc: I like Emmy Rossum as fem!Will. As for better i’m not sure. I’m thinking Natalie Portman for some reason.

ooc: I would imagine so. Hugh Dancy’s face is the perfect balance of broken and adorable.