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The village in the park, Thursday evening

Hannibal had come back here in the early hours of the morning, more to reassure those here that he was still safe and to stay involved in what was going on than out of any real desire to socialize.

The oddities of the day before seemed to have settled back into the usual dullness of day-to-day life, and Hannibal was keeping an eye out for any new people, but other than that, it was business as usual.

Maybe he could get a bit more volume out of their water filtration system today. It was a hobby.

[Open post! Come to the village!]

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Raven was one of those glad to see he was still safe.

"Hannibal, I wish you would stay here at the village," she said, probably for the thousandth time.

"Until Jono can, I won't," Hannibal answered stubbornly. No matter what he looked like, Jono belonged here. But as most of the others didn't seem to see that, he'd just have to keep visiting.

And since he had no intention of arguing... "He says there are new ones in town. Not hollows."

"You know I want Jono here as well," Raven said. She understood his appearance alarmed some people, but she knew he wasn't hollow.

She nodded. "I felt something. Has he met any of them?"

And that was why Hannibal appreciated you, Raven.

"Not yet, I don't think," he answered. "He only felt them." He shrugged. "They'll probably mostly attract attention and die before we even see them."

Raven rubbed her temple and shook her head. She could still feel traces of the emotions around her, battering against her shields, but she'd locked down her empathy. But that didn't mean she didn't care.

"I will try to find them and warn them," she said. "It may be that they are only temporary, like Fandom has done in the past, but to let them blunder into danger would be wrong."

"So you'll get yourself killed trying to help them?" Hannibal asked. "Anyone who can't tell it's dangerous out there won't last long anyway. Let them go; maybe they'll keep the hollows busy for a day or two."

He was glad he hadn't told her Jono had said there were children.

Edited 2016-12-09 00:29 (UTC)

Raven's eyes flashed red. "I am not so easy to kill," she said evenly, "and you know it is not in my nature to just sit idly and let others be harmed."

That had probably been a good idea. If Raven knew there were children out there, nothing would've stopped her from going out to find them.

Hannibal snorted. "If you're not back by morning, I'll have Jono keep an eye out for your body."

"That will not be necessary," Raven said. She shifted into her demon form; her senses were sharper that way.

Fuchsia energy crackled on her fingers. "But I appreciate the sentiments."

"I don't do sentiment," Hannibal said. He gave her a grim smile. "I just like to know where the bodies are buried."

He turned back to the pipe he'd been looking at. "And stay away from her."

"Stay away from whom?" Raven asked. She had an idea who he meant, though.

Hannibal just gave her a grim smile. "I don't think I have to warn you to stay away from her." Everybody knew to stay away from the school. It was the other 'her' Hannibal meant.

"One day one of you will kill the other. Or you both will. No matter what happens, you'll hate it."

There was that familiar twist in her heart. "I owe her peace," Raven said quietly. "I cannot rest until I grant her that."

If she died doing so, well, she was resigned to that.

"And that's why you'll get killed one day," Hannibal said. "You have power, but you have no sense."

"And would you do nothing if Jonothon were truly hollow?" Raven snapped. "One might say you have no sense as well. You put yourself in danger every day, so do not lecture me on sense."

"If Jono were truly hollow, I wouldn't be visiting," Hannibal snapped back. If Jono ever went truly hollow, Hannibal was lost as well. He refused to think of that. "I'm in less danger with him than anywhere else."

He tightened the pipe back to where it had been and gave up. "Do what you like; you will anyway." He picked up his things and stalked off to his hut.

As today was most clearly even worse than yesterday, Ghanima had done the only logical thing to do when she had awake to the Arms in a dilapidated state and no door on her suite: She had braided back her hair and pulled on the easiest boots to run in, put on her dark cloak, armed herself even more than usual, and secreted about a week's worth of Spice on her person, just in case someone, somehow, got in and broke into her medicine chest again.

Mind, it now had rather deadly booby-traps in place, but Ghanima took a view of 'better safe than sorry.'

That accomplished, she had set out to discover just how bad the situation was. Silent and unseen was a Fremen skill she had mastered early on, and today it came in handy, as she slipped past ruined buildings and monstrosities, keeping any eye out for any wayward students. It was this little village in the Park that had given her the biggest surprise, and so she had simply watched for awhile, taking in the unusual scene.

Eventually, her watching caught Hannibal's attention. He narrowed his eyes and looked up and around, searching for the source of that itchy feeling between his shoulder blades.

She'd been watching long enough to know this was not the Hannibal she knew, Bene Gesserit training taking in every inch and line and movement. He did not, however, seem as impulsively violent as the mindless former-people she had passed.

Ghanima cleared her throat politely, pushing the hood back so that he'd be able to see her face clearly, blue-on-blue eyes glowing in the dim evening. "Hello. Do you know who I am?"

It seemed the most logical place to start.

"You're one of the new ones." That much was obvious. Hannibal narrowed his eyes at her, thinking. Something about those eyes...

Eventually, he shook his head. "Not anymore." Jono would know. The part of him Jono kept might, too. But it was lost to him. "You know who I am," he guessed.

"Doctor Hannibal Lecter," she said agreeably, still watching him. Like everyone else she had observed, there was wariness, and a hardness that reminded her comfortably of home. "My name is Ghanima Atreides. I teach at the school with another version of you."

She gestured towards village, keeping her hand open and her palm up. "May I come in?"

Hannibal nodded and waved her in. She obviously wasn't hollow, after all. And she had an air about her that said she might be useful. "Ghanima Atreides." He did his best to commit that to memory.

There was a flash of something from long ago... "I've seen a man with your eyes." He flicked his knife negligently to indicate back then. "Before."

"My brother, Leto," she said agreeably. "He rather fancies your friend Sparkle, at least where I am from."

Which she enjoyed teasing him about to no end. It was a sibling's duty to tease about such things, after all.

"What happened, before?" she asked, accepting his invitation and striding in to the village. "Obviously our realities are colliding, somehow, but everyone I have seen appears older than their counterpart in my reality. Or, if not older, altered."

"Monstrous' was not a word Ghanima would use. Ever. She had a rather personal reason for being more open and accepting of such alterations to one's self.

Hannibal grimaced a little at the mention of Sparkle, but there was nothing to be done about that now.

He shrugged. "Something. I don't remember. I don't think anybody does." Even Jono didn't, and he remembered everything.

He led her to a circle of chairs they'd set down near a fire. "People started losing themselves, a piece at a time. Going hollow. Some...after that, the corruption started. Best to stay away from them unless you want a fight and are good at killing; they don't stop."

"I am very good at killing," Ghanima said simply, and it was a statement of fact rather than bragging. "But I shall endeavor to avoid them regardless."

She took a seat near the fire, taking in her surroundings. "Do they not bother here? It seems rather wide-open."

"They don't come near." Hannibal flopped into another chair. "There's wards, Octavian calls them. He tries to put more on whenever he can. Don't know if he did the original ones or something else did, but nothing bad comes in here." He smiled wryly. "Nothing that isn't one of us, anyway." They weren't all exactly nice, after all.

"I heard there's a lot of you out there."

"Everyone who was currently on my version of the island before this merger appears to still be here," she answered, frowning thoughtfully. "The dorms are no longer secure, then, if people have chosen to live here? Perhaps I ought to evacuate my students to Caritas or the library."

"No other place is safe," Hannibal said. "Only here. Where there aren't hollows, there are the bigger ones, the twisted ones."

He wouldn't call them monsters, either. He had a history with that word, and they didn't deserve it.

Ghanima frowned. "If most protection spells aren't working, someone should warn the people in the library," she said, standing up. "This is Fandom, I am sure many people from my reality went there immediately, searching for ways to undo this transformation."

"You think we didn't try that?" Hannibal shrugged. "You're welcome to try. Maybe new eyes will find something. New minds." Minds that weren't rotting yet.

He kept his eyes on his knife, playing with it, flipping it around and back. He wasn't going to think about that. Wasn't.

He got himself under control and nodded. "Stay away from the tower. She's there. The deadliest one." She'd had a name, but knowing it might make them hesitate if they tried killing her, and they stood little enough chance as it was.

Eliot shuffled up, more because it was a generally familiar direction than any other reason.

"Are there new people?" he asked. "Or am I actually starting to go crazy?"

"There are new people," Hannibal answered. "I haven't seen any, though."

He took a break to dig through his bag and come up with jerky, offering Eliot some. It was less kindness than practicality - Eliot was still good in a fight, and it paid to keep him remembering Hannibal.

That was cute. Eliot had mostly recognized Hannibal as a fellow villager based on his pallor and general unkemptness.

"Thanks." He took the offer and tucked it into a pocket. If he was lucky, he'd remember what it was when he found it there later. "I'm pretty sure I talked to some. Was wondering if they were dead yet."

Odds were pretty good they were.

Whatever worked; Hannibal would stack the odds as much as he was able.

"Haven't seen them here; I'll check for bodies in the morning." He wasn't stupid enough to go out at night. "Eat; don't hoard it. You need the protein."

Eliot sighed and pulled the jerky back out and took a bite. "Buncha nannies in this camp." It was real terrible how people sometimes reminded him to eat. "Dunno where you managed to scare up some meat."

He probably didn't want to know. Though he wouldn't remember it later, anyway.

"The same place as always."

He'd look for bodies in the morning.

"There's a little water, too." Hannibal nodded toward the filter. "You hurt at all?" It was sometimes hard to tell under the general smells of dirt, rot, and blood.

Eliot smirked faintly. "Not that I remember."

Honestly, he'd gotten plenty of cuts and bruises -- and sprains and the occasional break -- over the years that he had no idea where they came from.

He didn't actually remember all that, either.

Hannibal shrugged. They all had cuts and bruises. As long as Eliot was functioning fine and didn't smell like infection, that was all he needed to know.

"You remember who you might have talked to or where they were?" It was a long shot, he knew, but he couldn't help being curious.

"There was the Asian girl," Eliot said slowly, squinting as though that'd help him see his faulty memories better. Kathy stuck out in his head just because she was slightly more likely to be nice to him than most people. "In a cafe. We were scavenging." And he nearly went hollow on her and killed her, though that he didn't remember. "And -- yesterday. A happy girl. Walked me home."

That was a good memory. He really didn't have a lot of those.

Kathy, then. And...someone happy? That wouldn't last.

"I'll keep an eye out if I see her. You need to sleep?" He doubted Eliot remembered where his bedroll was.

"I only sleep 90 minutes a night."

Oh sure, he remembered that stupid line.

Hannibal rolled his eyes. "Are you heading back out, then? Or did you want to stay and guard tonight?"

Eliot was way too tired to wander back out into the fog.

"I'll stand guard."

Just as soon as he found himself a new club. He could never keep track of those things. . . .

Don't look at Hannibal; guns and knives were his go-to.

He nodded. "I'll see if anyone's found anything useful." He got up, dusting his hands off. "Take care."

Eliot nodded. "You, too." He was supposed to thank him for something, right? Food or -- something.

Who was this guy?

"See you."

"Probably."

By which point, he'd have forgotten this time, most likely. Hannibal did what he could, but he was under no illusions.

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The village in the park, Thursday evening

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