( open ) I be on my suit and tie

[avoirfaim]

Who: Anyone!
Where: The Ballroom
When: 12/31, 8 PM until the AM hours.
Rating: PG-13?
Summary: Two parties at once? What? While Jo is throwing her less than formal New Years Eve bash, Hannibal is having one of his own. Formal wear required and black tie optional, any raucous party crashers will automatically be added to his mental Rolodex. Happy New Year!

The Story:

Chorizo poached in red wine, mini meatballs in saffron sauce, coconut shrimp in a tamarind ginger sauce, peppered tuna skewers with wasabi mayonnaise, bacon-wrapped dates with parmesan, endive with chicken liver pate and dried cherry marmalade, five spice pork rillets, sole goujons with paprika salt, blue crab beignets, and a variety of oysters. These were just some of the plethora of tapas and hors d'oevres that were making the rounds with helping hands and sitting on various well placed bar height tables around the ballroom. Luckily for all, no one in Wonderland has died of mysterious causes that have anything to do with him in the last few days, but the closets were happy and willing to provide what he needed. Only some of the meats are of questionable origin, but they are all cooked and styled to perfection.

What the guests don't know won't hurt them, only make Hannibal feel content about his own skill set and superiority.

The playlist he prepared for the evening to match the champagne and fine dining was a mixture of classical in major key and early jazz, flowing into one another with purpose and varying levels of energy. Where the drinks bubble, so must the music.

He smiles at Evelyn and Alana, dressed as finely as usual, as he pours them the first glasses of champagne of the night.

"To fine company at the start of a new year."

Comments

[radiopalkiller]

Philip grins along involuntarily. At her question he only tilts his head to the side, the equivalent of a noncommittal shrug that won't run the risk of upsetting his tray's balance. Masking your true intentions comes astonishingly easy, if you yourself aren't entirely sure what they are.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, but I don't think it's working."

The couple in their vicinity steers towards a table further away. Philip holds up the first part of the message, and switches back to a different medium.

"Guess I got curious. The book did make his parties sound interesting."

He smiles sheepishly, watching for a reaction. Good thing neither of them has any history with curiosity killing things whatsoever! Otherwise that sort of thing might just come across as an awful idea.

[nascensibility]

Newsflash, Wonderland-edition: It isn't working.

If Philip is present simply for the sake of looking, for seeing what he can see - he is at least provided the luxury of not having his words and their inflection betray him - then Evelyn can't begrudge him the curiosity, but it doesn't mean that she has to like it. Interesting parties or not, the implication serves as a vivid reminder that almost everything here is prepared with meat or meat by-products.

"Have you drawn any conclusions thus far, or are you just tempting Fate?" she inquires politely, remembering several mentions in the literary counterpart about elegant dinners and everything - or everyone - that went into them.

[radiopalkiller]

He taps his device between the keys. A gesture to bridge the gap in his thoughts, more than it is any effort at pretend-writing, though he won't mind giving off that impression from afar. He's made up his mind about sharing his ability, but he's not quite at the point of sharing it indiscriminately just yet.

"Nothing I didn't already tell you when I showed you the book. Besides, after his spat with Crowley it doesn't take much tempting to be curious."

Arguably the demon only had the name to work for, granted, because he had his finger pointed at a particular film; and their Hannibal Lecter is a far cry from Anthony Hopkins. But looks can be deceiving, and Sherlock was no Basil Rathbone either. The similarities that remain are enough cause for concern, although how much of it Philip couldn't rightly guess.

He only doesn't know if the next question on his mind is better off written, thought, or swept under the rug entirely. Then again, he's not the one quite likely dating the guy's future nemesis.

"Did you ever ask Will about him?"

[nascensibility]

Sherlock was no aquiline-featured literary figure, not the one with which Evelyn was familiar, and she remembers as vividly as Philip the association that led to her violent death at the hands of the detective's infamous nemesis. An argument could be made for either side: as with Sherlock the differences are grand enough that Hannibal and his film and book counterparts are hardly comparable, but as with Sherlock there is the risk of running aground on similarities too loud to ignore.

She would question her inherent attraction to danger were she more self-aware of it, but Evelyn hasn't forgotten the blade at her throat and helplessly scrabbling at the hand twisting in her hair. A repeat performance is not on her to-do list.

A lofted eyebrow accompanies an expression that reads oh, so we're talking about Will now? at his query and she glances across the room to ascertain the relative distances of any potential eavesdroppers before speaking.

"I did."

Without much of an answer, unfortunately. Her visible huff is evidence enough of that.

"Will said that he believed Hannibal capable, but also that he wasn't certain of the extent of said capabilities."

[radiopalkiller]

If Hannibal's the guy, then Will might be the one who catches him someday, at least according to this. That was about all Philip had to say on the subject back then, more or less. He doesn't have any thrilling new insights either, at least not in that department. So Philip tries to put half an effort into giving the thumbs-up to her answer, for the sake of not giving that lofted eyebrow any reason to rise higher on his behalf.

It's all nice and good as long as he nods along, too, but there comes that moment he wishes he had a spare hand to scratch his head with. Sorry, what? He settles for slightly furrowed brows instead. Christ, how do you quantify something like that? 'I reckon he nibbled on a few fingers, but I've got my doubts he'd go for the whole arm?'

...he won't pull that off without sounding hostile, will he? Philip waits for his frown to ease up.

"In other words, nothing on whether he thinks Hannibal is our local killer or not."

[nascensibility]

If Hannibal is 'the guy,' then Evelyn would surmise that it's only a matter of time before someone organises a kangaroo court and a lynch mob. Overly familiar with Saudi Arabian nomadic law, it isn't difficult for her to envision the tribal punishment of being wrapped in a carpet and summarily trampled to death by horses - whatever mob mentality Wonderland could conjure up is sure to be swift, brutal, and merciless.

Evelyn offers Philip a half-shrug, mouth slanting into a frown. She could have pressed for more information from Will and he would have been unable to lie, he would have had to tell her, but the idea felt unfair and didn't sit well at the time.

"Will is often roundabout in his speech, but he's never lied to me."

[radiopalkiller]

She'll get a muted laugh for that, innocuous and voiceless amongst the murmur of the crowd. At least she wins couple synchronicity points for her own roundabout display. Not that that's actually reassuring to Philip in any shape or form...

"That's not much of an answer either."

And not lying isn't all that difficult if you're not actually committing to an answer in the first place. Which inevitably begs the question how Evelyn arrived at hers.

"Do you think he's keeping something from you?"

Because if it's not that, then his next guess goes to 'precautionary defence', against accusations he had absolutely no intentions of making. And that's just going to end with him having to play explicitly nice around Will. Perish the thought.

[nascensibility]

Guilty as charged, Evelyn visibly deflates and would be grateful that Philip pointed out the flaw in her reply were it not for her inherent desire to be as transparent as possible. As Philip is aware, her inability to lie is directly proportional to her love of books: incredibly obvious.

At least he asks something she can answer.

"I don't know," comes the honest reply, and Philip is exceedingly lucky that Evelyn doesn't assume that he's assuming the worst.

"I don't see why he'd have any reason to, I know he trusts me, and I trust him."

[radiopalkiller]

Trust and deception aren't always as mutually exclusive as all that, trust not to tell is a moderately easy calculation to make; trust not to judge can be a different affair entirely. Philip thinks back to the experience he can speak of, anyway, but the applications to this case seem tentative at best.

"I couldn't quite tell if you were wondering." Philip shakes his head, vaguely apologetic. "All I'm curious about is the case, anyway."

That is to say, he wasn't trying to accuse Will. Deliberately, anyway. Only hoping that the the investigator had already made more progress than he apparently did. Only that between Will and Hannibal-- well, none of them get to pick the things they drag into Wonderland, do they? So much for more experience he'd rather not have in his repertoire.

"And even that can wait until--" He glances at his watch, grins a little. "--next year. Listen..."

Philip looks around. His tray tilts slightly in his hand.

"I should probably take this for another walk. My work hours are getting paid out in food, and I'd hate to disqualify for that treat."

Since their last conversation Philip has diligently practiced his telepathic sarcasm. He likes to think that the fruits of his labour are showing.

[nascensibility]

Evelyn is wondering, but this may not be the right place for the conversation to take a turn down such a road. Hannibal will expect her to socialise outside of 'the help,' as it were, and she's content to keep up appearances for as long as needs must.

"Go on, do your walkabout," she replies with a little shooing gesture, smiling back at him.

Philip has to keep up appearances as well.

"If I don't see you later, Happy New Year."

[radiopalkiller]

"Happy New Year. Don't try the rilletes."

He leaves her with a lopsided smile, and turns away to resume his duties.