The music bleeding through the gramophone needle was subtle, barely a murmur smoothing over the friction of his body against the armchair. He was not expecting anyone yet, and though no eyes were set upon him, his appearance remained immaculate. The full three-piece gray suit >
office door; his head tilted barely an inch, recognizing the person approaching from behind by the sweetness of the fragrance she carried with her.
"You are twenty minutes ahead of our schedule, Samantha. Please, make yourself comfortable. I will be with you precisely >
Jack Crawford has a habit of projecting the pressure of the weight he carries onto anyone capable of bearing it. You must protect your boundaries, Alana. What is he asking of you tomorrow?
I disagree. A true practitioner does not construct his understanding upon the fragile foundation of his own emotional needs. You are analyzing me through the lens of your own psychological necessity.
Well, think about it. When we profile a patient, or even each other, we aren't using a clean slate. We use our own psychological architecture as the blueprint.
In doing so with you, am I analyzing you, or am I merely validating my own need for order in a deeply disordered world?
Beneath the excessive clatter of tools, directives, and footsteps crisscrossing the scene, Hannibal stood directly behind the yellow barrier of the police tape, observing.
His hands, carefully gloved, remained tucked inside the pockets of his dark blue trench coat. Despite the >
insight.
Not until he felt beside him the weight of a presence he had come to know on previous occasions. Though his eyes did not waver, his body shifted almost imperceptibly toward him.
"It takes a remarkable amount of passion to construct something so elaborate. What do >
No need to worry, Frederick. A Freudian crisis requires a level of chaotic internal friction that I simply do not possess. I merely find your perspective fascinating. Please, continue.
Perhaps it is, but isn’t the entire practice of psychoanalysis just a highly stylized form of projection? But — 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦, let’s not turn a simple moment of academic curiosity into a Freudian crisis.
The rhythmic, subtle sway of the pendulum clock was the sole sound breaching the barriers of silence, measuring the seconds in elegant cadence. Behind his desk, Hannibal slid his hand gracefully over the fine linen paper of a journal. The strokes of charcoal were deliberate yet >
suit as he approached.
"You are precisely on time, Will."
With a polite nod and the faint ghost of a smile, he stepped aside to allow the other man entry. Though his gaze was calculated, eyes roved over that figure with a contained curiosity, drinking in that silent >
| i'm gonna take a little time to organize this and think about my hannibal portrayal. if anyone wants a starter/short mention once i'm ready, feel free to like this tweet :)