fandomtownies | The Beach; Wednesday Evening

Never had Jasper looked more like some tourist than when he'd finally gotten to the beach. Lobo's Nod did not have any water save for green tinged lakes and tiny creeks. He'd never put his feet in the sand and felt the chilly water rushing up around his ankles. He wiggled his toes and felt the wet dirt stick to the tops of his feet.

It tickled.

No rest for the wicked, Jasper.

Of course. Jasper closed his eyes and shut his father's voice out. He didn't deserve to be here. He didn't want his father looking over his shoulder, hands on his shoulders and giving him some morbid pep talk about leaving some girl on the beach because the water would take away all the evidence, make it look accidental until the dumb cops took a closer look.

No. One hand clenched, fingers digging into his palm and, eventually, his father disappeared. Later, he'd probably dream but he was alone now. The water had wet the ends of his rolled up jeans. Jasper knelt down and stuck his hand underneath the water, watching his fingers disappear.

What the hell am I?

Question for the ages. Jasper missed Howie. He even missed G. William. This place was so weird.

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Hannibal was out running when he spotted the boy kneeling by the water. A new student, apparently - he remembered seeing him at the picnic, though they hadn't spoken - so he slowed down and watched him for a moment.

"Hello there," he called out. "Are you a fan of the ocean, then?"

"No." He didn't think it could really be classified that way. He stood up, shaking his hand out and glanced over. Appraising, observant. Taking stock. "Just never seen it before. Not in person."

Pictures didn't really count.

Good luck in observing Hannibal; he'd not only fooled but taught some of the FBI's best profilers.

He nodded pleasantly. "The first time you experience it can be overwhelming if you think of everything it entails." He ran one hand back through his sweaty hair to push it from his face, then quickly rinsed it in the surf before offering it. "Doctor Hannibal Lecter. You're one of our new students?"

"Getting less new everyday," he said, taking Dr. Lecter's hand and giving it a firm shake. He hadn't met many adults yet besides those that were actually teaching him so he made sure to focus a little sharper. "Jasper. I'm not overwhelmed."

Took more than an ocean to do that to him.

"Good." Hannibal chuckled. "This place can be a bit much all on its own; if you can handle new things comfortably, you'll get along much better. You come from someplace inland, then?"

"Inland and down south," he confirmed with a short nod. "We've got lakes. And the occasional creek or two. You're not gonna find anyone building a sandcastles on the banks of a muddy river."

It was all truthful but he continued to keep some things (like the name of his hometown) secret. It was habit by now.

[And apologies if I fall off here. Long day and need to sleep but I will SP]

"True." Hannibal smiled. "Not that many people do that here, either, but you could always start a trend."

[NP! SP is always good!]

Edited 2015-05-14 02:36 (UTC)

"Pass." He didn't think he deserved to do something as mundane as that. "You a teacher or this place's one medical doctor?"

He hadn't seen any buildings that resembled a hospital so he figured there was some tucked away clinic, pushed back and nearly invisible unless you were looking for it.

"I believe the answer to that would be, 'yes'," Hannibal said with a wry grin. "I am a medical doctor and a psychiatrist, and I've acted as both here on occasion, but I teach a number of things at the school. International Cuisine, at present."

"International cuisine?" Jasper repeated, sounding partly amused. "So, a doctor and a psychiatrist who teachers cooking classes? Do I have that right?"

"For the most part," Hannibal answered mildly. "Although I've also taught music, and the class this term involves experiencing food rather than cooking it. Food is a passion of mine," he confided, "and one that I'm eager to share."

"Guessing you don't approve of Hot Pockets then?" That was a staple of Jasper's diet back home. Easy to toss into the microwave and easy on the stomach. Billy's job didn't lend to fine dining that often. "Interesting combination there."

And odd. He tilted his head slightly.

"No," Hannibal answered, looking a bit pained. Honestly, between that and Sparkle's beloved Pop Tarts, he sometimes despaired of teenagers.

"Is it?" He shrugged. "I am also an artist and a musician and composer; I like to keep myself busy and creating things. Food is another sort of art - and it's edible when you're done." He grinned. "Don't you have hobbies apart from the things you study?"

Jasper shrugged.

"Nothing as exciting as that," he said, giving the question some actual thought. He couldn't remember the last time he'd really had a hobby. He didn't think collecting Billy's trophies really counted.

But, he knew that just saying 'nothing' was too vague even for him. Saying something was important. "I like driving. I'm good with the occasional camping trip too."

Interesting that it took him so long to find one.

"You're likely to get a chance at camping soon; the school often has a sort of outdoors session in the summer." In some sort of inflatable houses, but Hannibal wouldn't mention that. "For driving, the island isn't the best place. Unless you're in that class?"

He shook his head.

"Didn't want to take a class on the basics." If only he knew. "I know how to drive so sitting in class and learning road signs and where to put my hands on the wheel would literally put me to sleep."

And then he'd have a nightmare in class. Lovely.

Hannibal was fairly certain from radio that the class was more than that, but it seemed rude to point out what Jasper might be missing. "In that case, you'll simply have to wait for camping. Or take a tent to the Preserve yourself, I suppose."

"They really make us camp here?" That close of quarters was worrying. "The dorms aren't good enough?"

"I couldn't pretend to know why the school arranges certain things," Hannibal said. "Perhaps they think you all need fresh air."

The Beach; Wednesday Evening

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