Streets of Fandom/Arms Hotel, early Saturday evening

[sharp_as_knives]

After a day of research, a lot of watching battle, and a little bit of shooting, Hannibal was ready for a bit of rest in his handwavily acquired hotel room. Tomorrow seemed like it might be a little bit busy.

He secured his rifle, straightened his suit, climbed the wall across from the school, and headed for the Arms hotel, keeping an eye out for danger.



[OOC: expecting one, but open!]

Comments

[myownface]

Sparkle was really only danger if you gave him a reason to swing his baseball bat at you. Which, considering the events of earlier this evening, he might very well have been. He was twitchier than usual, hands white-knuckled on his baseball bat as he made his way back, slowly and carefully, toward the dorms. He wasn't looking to engage anything along the way, no, but he wasn't going to be caught unawares again, either.

So, when he noticed a figure walking in his direction from the general direction of the school, it didn't take him long at all before he turned to dash behind... Anything. Around a corner. Something. He was, sadly, fresh out of burning dumpsters.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal caught the flash of movement and quietly switched off the safety on his rifle. Then as he got closer, he noticed the hair on the shadowy figure. "Sparkle?" he asked in a low voice.

[myownface]

"Who-- Oh, shit." Sparkle exhaled the breath he'd been holding, and then slipped back out under the streetlights, looking somewhere between relieved and 'well, I almost just pissed myself, there.' "Wasn't expecting to see you out here."

He was expecting to see things that were way more likely to yell things about bunnies and ice cream as they ripped him apart and ate him.

[sharp_as_knives]

Well, no, Hannibal wasn't much for bunnies and ice cream.

"Nor I, you." Hannibal frowned. "What are you doing out here?"

[myownface]

"Stupidity," Sparkle admitted, shrugging. "They had propaganda shit up all around town. Operative word, 'had.' They don't, so much, now."

A beat.

"Uh... you? There aren't exactly classes on Saturdays."

[sharp_as_knives]

"I was helping with the research." And indulging in the chance for a bit of target practice. And watching the interesting sorts of destruction being wrought.

His eyes flicked over Sparkle, taking in the torn and bloody clothes and the look and residual scent of panic. "How are you feeling? You don't look good."

[myownface]

"Honestly? Pretty shitty," Sparkle replied. "Did you know the crazies in town travel in packs and carry grenades? People failed to inform me of the fucking grenades."

The packs thing... well, he'd figured that one out earlier in the week, to some degree, when they'd killed Alec. He shuddered, pushing that out of his mind. Ish.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal could make an educated guess what that meant. He set the safety on his rifle and slung it back over his shoulder, then set a hand on Sparkle's shoulder and steered him around towards the hotel. "Come; we should get inside."

[myownface]

To his credit, Sparkle only flinched a little bit when Hannibal's hand came to rest on his shoulder, but he gave a half-nod that was only mostly numb, turning and letting himself be steered back the way he'd been coming from.

"Y-yeah. Don't really want to be out here after dark. Well... After it gets darker. It's late."

That was a very astute observation Sparks made there.

[sharp_as_knives]

"It is." Hannibal refrained from smiling; it was generally frowned upon to find people's shock amusing. "But the buildings are well-lit, you see? There are no attackers on this street, and if we hurry, we'll be inside shortly."

He squeezed Sparkle's shoulder a little and kept him moving forward.

[myownface]

Really, at this rate, Hannibal probably could have marched Sparkle right off a bridge and he would have just kept trudging forward. Quickly trudging forward.

"Where we goin'?"

Sparkle really didn't actually care. But at the same time, he wanted to hear words that didn't involve making hammocks out of his eyelids, and Hannibal seemed to be pretty good at that sort of thing.

[sharp_as_knives]

"I have a suite at the hotel. I got it so I could still cook." Hannibal didn't generally make a habit of filling in quiet with chatter, but he could when necessary. "I dislike eating other people's cooking unless I have to, and there aren't any single rooms with adequate kitchens. Lucky in this case, wouldn't you say?"

Because really, when you were relying on one cannibal to keep you safe from others, you probably shouldn't be out on your own.

[myownface]

Well, being out in groups had ended poorly for him!

"Pretty lucky," Sparkle agreed with a small nod, before falling silent and running that explanation over a few more times, digesting it. "I mean, better than the dorms. Bit longer walk, I think."

Was it? He blinked up and looked around, trying to get his bearings back. They were totally... on a street, on the island. That was a good start.

[sharp_as_knives]

"It depends on where you're walking from," Hannibal answered. "So, tell me about this propaganda they had. What happened to it?"

He could make some educated guesses on that, too, but that wouldn't keep Sparkle talking.

[myownface]

"Uh..." Sparkle licked his lips as they walked. "The first one got lit on fire, mostly. And there was another one, I kinda..."

Um. This was weird to admit to a teacher.

"... Kinda drew dicks all over it and then we shot it with an acid gun." Yeah. That was totally normal. At least, it was normal for teenagers, right? "And the last one... You know... grenades."

He probably didn't have to elaborate too much on what had happened to the last one.

[sharp_as_knives]

Grenades? "Well, I see your point about them not having propaganda anymore, then." Hannibal shook his head. He wanted to ask about the blood, but that was best done when they were sitting inside and warm. Which shouldn't be much further away.

"We're almost there." He pointed to the hotel with his free hand. "No plans for grenades in the hotel, I hope."

[myownface]

"Wasn't my grenade," Sparkle mumbled, kicking at a cobble underfoot. "I just have my bat. And spray-paint."

These were the weapons of anarchy.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Good." Twitchy teenagers with weapons weren't Hannibal's first choice of suite-mates. "No spray-paint use in the hotel, either," he instructed. "Even if Nick annoys you."

[myownface]

"Cap stays on," Sparkle promised. "Not gonna mess up a suite in a hotel I might wanna stay at again someday."

For reasons that he wasn't going to elaborate on that involved being a teenager and having a roommate. Though the current boyfriend situation was... complicated.

"Small island. People remember faces around here."

Or hair.

[sharp_as_knives]

It was definitely memorable hair.

"Very good." Hannibal patted Sparkle's shoulder and held the door for him. "There, you see? Safely inside."

For certain values of "safe" equaling "fewer and more civilized cannibals here".

[myownface]

Once again, Sparkle probably really needed to re-evaluate all of his life choices. All of them.

"Safely inside," he echoed, and then nodded a little, looking around the hotel lobby, taking in the potted plants, the bored-looking guy in the shades at the check-in desk who was sporting more than a couple of bruises, the weirdly clean environment he was standing in that seemed like it was separated from the outside by a whole entire world. "And you're fine with this?"

[sharp_as_knives]

"With being safe? Most definitely." Hannibal nodded to Nick and steered Sparkle toward the elevator. "Are you still injured anywhere?"

[myownface]

"Don't think so," Sparkle replied, giving himself a quick pat-down. "The New-U thing... did its thing. Got smacked a few times after that and fell on my ass, but that's no big deal. Few bruises."

That's what friends were for, really. Neatly tenderizing you before you wandered off to spend a night with a cannibal.

[sharp_as_knives]

What wonderful friends! Hannibal nodded. "Good." He eyed Sparkle as they headed up in the elevator. "I have an extra shirt; it will be big on you, but it's whole. And I've seen teenagers in jeans with more holes than yours."

[myownface]

"Yeah... if it wasn't for the blood, I could probably get away with the shirt, too. Just pretend it's the thing these days. It mostly is."

'The thing' mostly just involved less gore and charring.

"I guess most people aren't worried about fashion out there right now. I'm still better dressed than the freaks in the tires."