I own ZILCH. You should ALLL know that by now.
Italics are Hannibal's thought's, dream's and day dreams.
Ex·quis·ite
1. Of special beauty or charm, or rare and appealing excellence.
2. Extraordinarily fine or admirable; consummate.
As the night progressed, people were auctioned off and laughs were had. Clarice kept the mood alight by cracking jokes once in a while when the bidding died down; Cassandra would even put in a bid herself. The other collaborators would show up sporadically, bursting into song or dance.
Soon enough, Cassandra was besides Hannibal's group, taking the lovely Bella away with her to the stage.
The bid started like all others with fifty dollars, but soon things got a little out of hand. The final straw was when a certain gentlemen, with a dubious reputation, offered two thousand dollars for Bella's company.
Jack jumped out of his seat.
"BBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNKKKK! I am MY WIFE'S broker."
"What is your final bid Mr. Crawford?"
"Two thousand, five hundred dollars. And Bella can take Will for a spin around the dance floor and enjoy dinner at Dr. Lecter's dinner party next week to witch we were already invited to," declared Jack with finality.
"Wait–what?" asked Will in bewilderment.
"Don't worry Will, I'll be gentle," was Bella's comment. It tore several laughs from the public.
Jack, who was still staring furiously at the man who had bid for Bella, only sat down once his wife did. This caused some giggles from the rest of the audience and a small, pleased smile from Bella.
Will was up next, to his great dismay. As the bidding continued, so did his surprise; he managed to reach two thousand three hundred and twenty dollars before Hannibal took pity on him and declared the bidding over, at the price of three thousand. He asked Bella if she would oppose to two dances with Will instead of one.
"Of course I don't mind Hannibal, but then you must have another dinner party."
Hannibal gave a curt bow with his head, "Of course."
The special agent got off the stage with his eyes held low, muttering beneath his breath all the way to his seat. It seemed to be a pastime of his. Cassandra, being the mischievous little minx that she was, gave Will a very loud, sloppy kiss on his cheek before dragging off Alana to the chopping block.
The same gentleman who had bid for Bella (and whom Jack despised with all his heart) offered the price of fifteen hundred, at which point Will (similar in style to Mr. Crawford), jumped off his seat.
"Two thousand and Jack's a great dancer," saying nothing more, Will slumped back into his chair, a little smile of relief spreading on his lips.
"And that's that," announced Clarice. She looked down at her tablet, and smiled cheekily, "Oi, this next one is bound to start a riot."
Cassandra nodded in agreement while she escorted Alana back to her seat,
"Good evening Dr. Lecter, if you'd be so kind to accompany me."
"Of course."
As soon as Hannibal reached the podium were Clarice was patiently waiting to start the bidding, out came young Misha at full run. Once she reached him, Hannibal picked her up and smiled adoringly at the young child.
"Thee! I told you I did it wight! Doctow Lectow still hath the bow like I-I-I-I-I made it," the young girl yelled to some unknown party sitting among the public. With a collective 'aww' the women in the audience were rendered into a puddle.
"Yep–there'll be a riot here tonight…" muttered Clarice to herself.
Are you jealous, Viliotoja? Hannibal discreetly sent her a sly look. Sensing that he was being watched, Hannibal turned his head and found Abby staring at him intently. She smiled at him, and winked.
Are you thinking of helping me like you helped your father Abigail?
"Yes–thank you Misha," said Clarice, who had been talking softly with the young girl, "But you've got to return to your seat now, alright?"
"Alwight," the little girl replied, "You can put me down Doctow Lectow."
Hannibal crouched down and placed young Misha on the floor. She was about to run off, but instead turned around and gave Hannibal a kiss on the cheek. He smiled widely, showing his teeth. The little girl giggled and ran off, waving goodbye to her new friend.
Clarice cleared her throat, "Sorry for the interruption–with us now is Dr. Hannibal Lecter," she began. "He is a man of refined taste; he enjoys classical music, great art, magnificent wine and is said to be an outstanding cook. "
All this you will try for yourself Viliotoja. All this and much, much more.
"We shall start the bidding at–˝
"One thousand dollars!" shouted a pretty red head in jade. Hannibal sent her a polite smile and looked expectantly at the other ladies in the audience.
"Hannibal is milking this for all it's worth," Will whispered to Alana.
"Yeah, he's always had a soft spot for charities," replied Alana. By now the bidding was carrying on by itself, numbers being shouted from all across the room.
"Five thousand two hundred," said an Asian woman.
"Six thousand-" said a blonde at the back.
"Eight!" cried another.
"Ladies, please! I can't keep up wi–"Clarice interjected to no avail before she was interrupted once more. The women were slowly gaining momentum. Giving up on the whole concept, Clarice turned toward Hannibal and looked at him boldly for the first time since she had toppled on top of him back at the academy.
"You must be quite the catch," she muttered, breathless.
"I do not like boasting, for it is quite rude–but I am a very good cook, Miss Starling."
"Good cook?" she said, slightly bewildered, "Good Cook? These women are about to engage into physical violence. Something tells me your cooking is just the beginning."
Soon Viliotoja, soon.
"Well, if the ladies here are hoping for something more, they will be sourly disappointed."
"And why would that be?" She asked with a bit of a condescending tone.
Hannibal smiled enigmatically, and noticed how her pupils dilated and her nostrils flared slightly, despite her slightly harsher tone.
"Because I tend to be very picky with my company Miss Starling," he said in a husky voice.
"Please call me Clarice. It seems you make it a difficult task to be in your presence."
"Not at all Clarice," Hannibal noticed with immense satisfaction Clarice's slight shiver as her name came out of his mouth, "I just have a preference of surrounding myself with the breathtaking exquisite," explained Hannibal as he stared at her intently.
"Any luck recently?" Clarice asked provocatively in a soft voice.
Are you provoking me Viliotoja? Tut- tut-tut… Such sass. I find It quite alluring… Very well I shall play this game with you.
"So far I have been quite lucky. I just hope my fortune doesn't leave me now."
"Now?" she questioned. Hannibal just smiled enigmatically and looked once more at the audience. The value of Hannibal's company had reached the outstanding quantity of fifty thousand dollars. Clarice's prediction was about to come true when all of a sudden a young brunette standing on her chair screamed at the top of her lungs:
"BBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNKKK KKKKK!"
Abigail Hobbs had made her presence known. She looked at Hannibal, seeking for confirmation on their previously agreed actions, and waited. Hannibal gave her a slight nod of approval.
"Dr. Lecter has given me permission to double the highest bid."
"Excuse me?" exclaimed Clarice, quickly glancing between Abby and Hannibal. Everyone else was shocked into silence. The only ones who looked mildly unsurprised were the Crawfords, Will and Alana. They had suspected that he would do something of the sort. They just never thought that he would double the highest bidding offer.
"We are talking about… one hundred thousand dollars, correct?" Clarice confirmed.
"Yes. That is correct," replied Abigail.
Silence.
"Sold… to the broker for the value of one hundred thousand dollars," declared Clarice, still astonished.
"Oh my word…" were Mrs. Cain's last words, before she passed out. Mr. Cain sighed heavily.
"Matilda, could you please look after Mrs. Cain?" a young nurse quickly made her way to their seat. "Thank you. Now Alice," Abby chuckled at Clarice's little joke, "who do you pick?"
"Could you tell me what Dr. Lecter is going to dance before I make my decision?"
Clarice looked down at her tablet,
"A waltz. Dmitri Shostakovich's Waltz No. 2, to be exact. May I know why?"
"Is it hard?"
"What? The waltz?"
"Yes."
"No, not really. It does prove helpful if your partner knows what they're doing though," said Clarice with half a smile.
"Well, I want to be fair–and at some point everyone bid–so I'm going to pick the only woman who hasn't bid so far. Dr. Lecter really is a great dancer and an even better cook."
"Meaning?" prodded a puzzled Clarice with a slightly panicked look.
"Meaning, I hope you enjoy yourself this evening, Miss Starling," answered Abigail with a sweet and innocent smile before she sat down.
Very good Abigail… Very well thought out. I must thank you later. A reward must be given–what am I going to give you?
"It seems we will see each other on the dance floor, Clarice," said Hannibal, delivering one of his infamous Cheshire cat grins. He bowed his head, and took his leave.
"Wait–what? N-no, I–" Clarice stammered, still baffled at the sequence of events. Hannibal continued to smile until he reached his seat. He decided that he really liked the look of bewilderment on Clarice. She was off-balance, and if she was off-balance, it would be easier for him to approach her. He did not wish to manipulate Clarice. It would be much more fitting for her to realize that he was silently slithering by, like the snake charmer she believed he was.
The rest of the auction went on without any other incidents, and Clarice managed to maintain a cool façade. Still, Hannibal noticed that his Temptress was still out of sorts; the way her hands trembled slightly, how she licked her lips, how her smile faltered whenever his eyes caught hers.
After the last of the auctioned volunteers stepped off the stage, followed by a huge round of applause, the young man that had given Jack their tickets went up to the stage masked as the Phantom of the Opera.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, my name is Christian Peck. We were supposed to start our Opera homage, although it may take a while, since I look like a raccoon and our lead singer is on strike–" At this point the young man had to duck to avoid being hit square in the face by a silver shoe. "That was really close my love! Better luck next time. Anyway," he resumed, once the chuckles died down, "so to keep you entertained we shall begin with a media presentation created by our older students. You will have a small glimpse behind the entire process that brought you this wonderful fund-raiser. Hopefully after this we'll have our Opera rendition, but don't get too excited. Like I said, our lead si–" At that same instant Clarice marched on to the stage and threw her other show straight to his face. This time it smacked him right on target, and he fell on his knees, apparently his face still hurt. Her job done, Clarice left the stage, giving a loud hmph of approval.
Shaking his head, Christian picked himself up, bid a nice evening, and left the stage on wobbly legs, Clarice's shoe in one hand. Next, a tall black young man came out dressed in a traditional suit with bermuda-cut pants and neon green sneakers. Hannibal was simply appalled. Next came a lovely young Asian girl dressed in a short black and gold kimono.
"Good evening. I'm Matthew Franks," said the young man.
"And I'm Samantha Lin, and we are here to present to you this year's media project." said the young girl.
"As you know, nowadays multimedia is everything. Our work, entertainment and information is delivered in this format," said Matthew.
"So for our media project we decided to go under cover, so to speak. In honor of all the controversial paparazzi that plague the life of celebrities around the world, and in honor of the spies as well, we decided to plant some cameras here and there in order to create an exposé for all of you to see what really took place behind the scenes of this magnificent event," said Samantha. "Also, who'd want to miss the bloopers?"
"You nailed that one girl," replied Matthew with a large grin. "We had originally cut out some fragments, but due to the fandango that went down at the auction, we've decided to bring some stuff back. And this way you'll know why Chris looks like a raccoon."
"We ask that you bear with us for just a little longer and all shall be revealed. We hope you are enjoying you're evening, and be ready, because we're just getting started."
"A-a-a-a-n-n-n-d we're off!" said Mathew and left the stage behind Samantha. The lights dimmed and the curtains rose, revealing a white screen.
"Oh, this is going to be good," muttered Will.
The image took some time to focus, but when it did, it sent the crowd into fits of laughter. A student was picking his nose.
"Ewwww! Timmy, we can see you."
"Great, can you hear me too?"
"Yes, we can hear you."
"Then we are a go… Always wanted to say that" said the boy as he disappeared from the camera's line of site.
*blip.*
"But, what happened?"
"This guy in our class, you know the one she tackled? Well he pissed her off again and she went after him. Trouble is that as she ran out, Dr. Lecter was on his way in. She literally RAMMED herself into him, sending the poor man to the ground a meter and a half back…"
"Jesus. No wonder she went for the ice bucket–she's either too angry or too embarrassed. Or both, right?"
"Right…" Chris answered with his malicious grin.
"You didn't mention that," Will accused Hannibal, looking at his older friend with a raised brow.
"I saw no interest to add to the child's mortification Will. " Hannibal easily deflected.
"Yeah, you got a point."
"I'm happy you see it that way."
What do you know that escapes the rest? How she truly feels perhaps?
"It's a miracle she was capable of telling you."
"She didn't," replied Chris.
"What do you mean?"
"I was there, I saw everything."
Impossible–I would have KNOWN. Hannibal striated a little, and put all his attention on the young man. If it was true that he had witnessed the entire scene and Hannibal had missed it, it meant that Chris had an uncanny ability of his own.
"Really? How?"
"Simple. I saw the douche rushing out and he only does that when he's running from Reese so I back tracked and saw the whole thing. Obviously when I saw what happened, I kept to the shadows."
.
"Sneaky!"
"I try."
I wonder where else you have sneaked? Hannibal was looking at the young man's grinning image, deep in thought.
Hannibal lost interest once more as the image showed Clarice leaving the room they were in to fetch some dry clothes. However, Hannibal did notice her delicious curves.
Perfect size… Made to fit in my hands, my mouth… A half inflamed smile spread over his fevered face. He was incredibly grateful for the near complete darkness in the room. On the other hand, he did not like the catcalls that were shouted at Clarice's disappearing form.
The corner of his mouth twitched in distaste.
How vulgar. This is as close as they will ever get to seeing her flesh.
After twenty minutes of boring footage (the rest of the crowd did have a few laughs, he noticed), he realized they were showing Wednesday's events. A pretty blonde was teaching the little children the dance routine for the entrancing lullaby, when Cassandra walked in.
After waving at the small children, she turned to their teacher, "Haley, what's the theme for the lullaby? Fred's asking, so that they can start building the props for the stage."
"Dark forest fairy, " was the short reply.
"Oh. Can I ask why? I thought fairies were meant to be bright and bubbly," Cassandra asked, intrigued.
Haley clapped her hands, "Alright guys! Time for a quick break. Go to the bathroom or drink some juice, and then we carry on, okay?"
"YES MS. HAYLEY!" they said in unison.
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" Was the collective cheer as fifteen little kids ran out the door.
"Sorry hun, but bright and bubbly was Disney's corruption of the myth. Except for the Tooth Fairy, Flower Fae and the Garden Sprites, fairies are really nasty. I mean, in Eastern Europe people would travel in groups when they had to cross through forests. And they would never send maidens–EVER. You know how nowadays parents tell their kids about the bogeyman to keep them in line? Back then, children were told that if they were TOO good, the fairies would come sing to them and kidnap them so they were never able to return home, because they would have proven worthy of becoming a fairy child. And if you were TOO bad, then the Fairy Queen would come for them at night, and sing so beautifully that they would open their windows and she's drink their warm blood so that she could stay pretty forever. This lullaby was actually used for something of the likes. Three sister witches would drink young children's souls. To attract them, the youngest sister would go to the nearest village and sing this lullaby and take them back to their home. I was thinking witches for the theme, but I can't see Reese as a hag, so Fairy Queen of the Dark Forest it is."
"Now I understand. And you're right, no way in hell is that girl a hag," Cassandra nodded thoughtfully. "So then–"
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by Chris' arrival, but something seemed to be wrong. His face was red, eyes shining with unshed tears and his cheeks were strained, doing everything in his power not to laugh.
"'Delia came in a second ago with a confused look on her face," he gasped for air, and clutched his abdomen, "and then Clarice stumbled in with her hands on her face repeating over and over again 'this didn't happen it didn't happen nononono' and I just–"
"Will someone tell me what the HELL is going on?" asked 'Delia, dragging Clarice behind her. All of her blood had drained from her face and she kept repeating something under her breath. "Look at her! She's pale as a ghost!"
'Delia raised her arms above her hands and let out an exasperated scream, "Look you two–!"
"What on heaven's name is going on in here?" interrupted Mrs. Cain, looking around at the state of her pupils. She turned to face Haley, who was trying to ignore the whole fiasco, "I just dropped by to let you know that I think it would be wise to scratch Sweeney Todd from our presentation due to the whole Minnesota Strike–"
Mrs. Cain was interrupted by a lamenting scream from Clarice as she dropped down to the floor and curled herself into a ball.
She repeated her mantra over and over, "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…"
At this point Christ had finally lost the little control he had and burst out into a fit of breathless laughter. He leaned against the wall, his knees weakening by the second, trying not to collapse.
The more he laughed, the more Clarice chanted;
"Didn't happen, didn't happen…"
The more Clarice chanted, the louder Chris laughed;
"Priest…..hahahaha…. The pris… hahahaha… he caught her… he caught her... hahahaha… PRIEST! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA….
Christ silently shook his face, reddened to an alarming point. Having laughed to the point where Chris had literally run out of air, he gave out and collapsed on the ground. The impact must've jumpstarted his lungs, because after taking in a much needed breath, he howled once again with mirth and laughter.
Clarice was in the fetal position, hands pulling her hair, chanting over and over again.
"Please… please… tell me it didn't happen…"
Ah but it did my saldus Viliotoja, Hannibal silently answered with a wolfish grin.
Chris, having mercy on Clarice, regained some composure and crawled over to smooth out her distress. Sitting her up, Chris grabbed Clarice's hands in his and kissed her wrists.
"Well, what do you know, they're a couple," Jack commented under his breath.
This will not do, something must be done about him.
Hannibal's curiosity about the boy was turning sour.
Standing up slowly Chris gathered Clarice in his arms and then gently kissed her temple and said:
"Why don't I take you back to my place and I'll cook you dinner? Would you like that?"
"That would be nice, yeah," was Clarisse's strangled reply.
"OK then, we'll see you guys tomorrow."
As they were leaving Chris had another laughing bout but it ended as soon a Clarice smacked his face.
"Aww, those two are just the sweetest thing. They're such a cute couple." 'Delia said once the sound of their footsteps disappeared.
"Yes they are, and no they're not," Replied Mrs. Cain while Cassandra and Haley discretely laughed.
"How come?"
Mrs. Cain just smiled, "Tell you what, if come Sunday you haven't figured it out yet, I'll tell you then." Giving her a wink she left an intrigued Ardelia behind.
Hannibal too found his curiosity peaked.
As Thursday's footage came, Hannibal paid some attention to what was happening. He hadn't seen his personal tormenter that day, and he had only gotten a glimpse of her on Friday and Saturday because he had started preparing for what he had planned. The day's footage was uneventful, but when the clock struck half past one on Thursday morning, movement was registered. Various teenage girls with strange robes entered the room that was being filmed. Shortly afterwards Clarice, Cassandra, Haley and a sweet looking, chubby red head entered the room with some apprehension.
"Girls, what's going on here?" asked the red head.
"We must wait sister. There is still one missing," one of the teens replied enigmatically.
"Who? 'Delia? She's parking the car. Can someone please explain what is going on here?" asked Clarice, pursing her lips impatiently.
"All shall be revealed sister, do not worry," another girl answered vaguely.
"Did we join a cult at some point, that I am unaware of?" asked Cassandra. Before she could get her answer, 'Delia marched in rambling about the cold, only to fall silent at the scene that met her.
"Did you guys join some sort of cult and are now trying to reel me in?" she said, looking accusingly at her friends. The other four women in the room snorted at this.
"Sisters, welcome. We have brought you here tonight to participate in the sisterhood's sacred ritual, to honor the new year" explained the oldest girl with a monotonous voice. Upon closer inspection, Hannibal noticed that she had black hair, but that was all he could make out.
"What in God's name is this?" He heard Mrs. Cain ask in an astonished tone. Hannibal was now vastly interested. As a man of culture, he knew what these rituals could entail.
I wonder if you know Viliotoja, that some pagan rituals are performed in bare form. Especially when the power of the sex is involved. Will you participate? If only we had more time, perhaps by spring my dear.
"New year's rite? Like, a ritual? A pagan ritual?" asked the red head.
"Yes, although the word ritual nowadays carries negative connotations. We prefer rite, for all we wish is to honor the Goddess."
"We have that constitutional right," added a short blond as an afterthought.
"No one is disputing you of that right, what we are arguing is our presence–why are we here, exactly?" asked Cassandra.
"We have invited you here for you to join us, for the Star of The Huntress will be shining brightly on the 31st of this year. We need a strong woman who embodies all that The Huntress represents, and another four to represent the elements of the earth," now the teenage girl turned to face 'Delia. "Ardelia, you are strong and worthy of the role of The Huntress, please accept her robes.
'Delia smiled tentatively, "Oh, err… OK, yeah, sure. I'm honored that you guys thought of me. Yeah…"
The leader continued to speak, turning to each girl as she did, handing them their robes "Cassandra, you are earth, wise and grounded. Haley, you are deep and mysterious, like the element of water. Like your fiery mane Maggi, you are volatile but warm. Clarice, just like air you sustain those around you with a cool, welcome breeze or tear apart any who threaten you with gale force winds."
The leader nodded, satisfied, "We shall convene in the woods to celebrate and dance to the Mother Moon and to the Goddess bare and free as our Sisters before us."
Hannibal smiled slyly at the girl's words. His smile only broadened as he saw Clarice's expression.
Thank you all. A big hud to my followers, riviewrs and pavoriter (not sure thats even a word...) And a grnd kiss to that saint that is my Beta. PLEASE REVIEW. PLEASE.
