( (fourth floor, second window from the left, facing the street. and no, there is no security past the standard deadbolt ✨)
does she feel better out of wet clothes since it was an option this time? yes, absolutely. is comfort still a bit of a foreign concept? also absolutely yes. milk too if we're being completely honest, and tomorrow when her sneakers are dry but sour, they will be summarily tossed. fast fashion and the accessibility of brand new clothes are still a bit of a novelty, another trip to roxx will not be too big of a burden — and at least this time it's not because of blood spill.
does any of that mean clarke buys that she wasn't being casually directed and that rankles. there is no outright retort, but the twist of her lips speak volumes.
some of the attitude lessens as they walk, though. her with that same careful distance and him with the mildly grating small talk. most of clarke's responses are clipped but more so out of a lack of practice at casual conversation than any real issue talking about the weather, the plant life, the city itself. passing through the market she is very obviously distracted by the sights and smells, and watches a companion bot behind a counter so intently she outright misses a conversational cue or two. then they draw up to his house and she pauses on the sidewalk just to take it in. the architecture is entirely foreign but striking. the tall windows edged with dark wood in contrast to the relatively light brickwork are like gaunt eyes on a pale face, the portico evoking a sense of modern/old world extravagance despite her having no basis for it. it's a nice house, and clarke can imagine a whole block lined with similar dwellings the same way a fish can imagine traveling through the stars — it's oddly alienating, to now know what life used to look like.
if it's at all daunting, that sensation is overshadowed by the sensation of just feeling weirdly out of place. but hannibal moves to open the door and clarke follows. she's just as keen on taking in the foyer as she had been the exterior, and when he directs her towards the kitchen she almost just walks.
but the paintings that decorate the walls...
those distract completely. )
Oh, those are nice.
( she doesn't crowd the walls to look closer, but there is a definitive tilt to the head that broadcasts she wants to. )
pov: me neck deep in the hannibal house wiki gallery
does she feel better out of wet clothes since it was an option this time? yes, absolutely. is comfort still a bit of a foreign concept? also absolutely yes. milk too if we're being completely honest, and tomorrow when her sneakers are dry but sour, they will be summarily tossed. fast fashion and the accessibility of brand new clothes are still a bit of a novelty, another trip to roxx will not be too big of a burden — and at least this time it's not because of blood spill.
does any of that mean clarke buys that she wasn't being casually directed and that rankles. there is no outright retort, but the twist of her lips speak volumes.
some of the attitude lessens as they walk, though. her with that same careful distance and him with the mildly grating small talk. most of clarke's responses are clipped but more so out of a lack of practice at casual conversation than any real issue talking about the weather, the plant life, the city itself. passing through the market she is very obviously distracted by the sights and smells, and watches a companion bot behind a counter so intently she outright misses a conversational cue or two. then they draw up to his house and she pauses on the sidewalk just to take it in. the architecture is entirely foreign but striking. the tall windows edged with dark wood in contrast to the relatively light brickwork are like gaunt eyes on a pale face, the portico evoking a sense of modern/old world extravagance despite her having no basis for it. it's a nice house, and clarke can imagine a whole block lined with similar dwellings the same way a fish can imagine traveling through the stars — it's oddly alienating, to now know what life used to look like.
if it's at all daunting, that sensation is overshadowed by the sensation of just feeling weirdly out of place. but hannibal moves to open the door and clarke follows. she's just as keen on taking in the foyer as she had been the exterior, and when he directs her towards the kitchen she almost just walks.
but the paintings that decorate the walls...
those distract completely. )
Oh, those are nice.
( she doesn't crowd the walls to look closer, but there is a definitive tilt to the head that broadcasts she wants to. )