(Book!verse) Dexter Morgan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
darkly_dreaming) wrote2016-12-30 02:27 pm
darkly_dreaming) wrote2016-12-30 02:27 pm
Log [Dexter and Hannibal]
WHO: Hannibal Lecter (NBC's Hannibal) and Dexter Morgan (Dexter Novels)
WHAT: Hannibal gets sent to Miami as a consultant and decides to kick back and relax with some mocking copycat murders. Dexter catches wind of him.
WHERE: Miami
WARNINGS: Probably mentions of cannibalism, murder, serial killers, etc...
To almost everyone who worked busily at Miami's Police Department, this day was as normal as any other. There were fresh murders to investigate, there was awful coffee in the employee area in back, and as per usual Dexter had brought a box of donuts to work in order to placate the simple minds of his co-workers. Serial killers were not kind enough to bring everyone donuts, you see.
But to Dexter Morgan, today was a very strange day indeed. There were files the inbox, which sat in his own little office; this is par for the course for most days. But then diligent Dexter noticed something a touch peculiar. The victim in his file was something more than a drunken jealous murder by amateurs; this body was interesting...
There were drilled holes in the bones, for one. It wasn't random torture, though. Dexter had in fact seen these exact drill marks before, from a killer who used to string his victims up like marionettes.
Problem being, Dexter had already murdered that guy and dumped his dissected carcass into the ocean. So it was extremely unlikely that the same man had done this. Of course, he couldn't exactly share this information with anyone, so Dexter had to let the detectives chase thier tails on this, not that it really bothered him.
What did bother him though, were the subtle little differences in the body...
So it was that with a stack of glossy photos Dexter vacated his office in favor of sitting somewhere with apt table space. His search led to a conference room that was currently open for use (and by some fantastic coincidence, it was also the room that housed his half empty box of delicious donuts), so Dexter strolled in, whistling brightly as he dropped the photos on the lacquered table.
Now, about those differences...
Dexter sorted the shots for easy comparison, using both the photos of one of Pupito's (the marionette killer) victims as well as photos of his apparent new victim. Minutes flaked away in the air conditioned room with Dexter carefully looking between the shots of each victim. For one thing... whomever this copycat was, he had a much better sense of how the human body worked than Pupito did. The drill-holes were placed in slightly better positions on the body, if the end goal was moving it around like a puppet. The tools used were of higher quality too, cutting cleanly into the bone, while the previous victim showed more signs of trauma round the drill holes.
For a moment, Dexter cannot help but wonder what kind of drill was used. He could always go for buying some new toys... a slightly dreamy smile touched his face-- though it was stained dark, and not at all like a smile should look. But in barely a moment the look is gone, and Dexter replaces his Happy Worker mask with ease. He remembered that there was a new consultant on staff, on loan from the Baltimore sect of the FBI. He supposed he ought to politely introduce himself and put out some feelers; it wasn't too long ago he'd been caught in the cross-hairs of an FBI agent's suspicions. Though if he wanted to fake optimism, Dexter could always guess the new hire was due to the staggering number of unsolved murders cropping up as of late.
And yes, Dexter could have solved a good portion of them. He simply chose not to, still on the coattails of his terrible love affair with internet fame. The calls for interviews and appearances had slowed to a trickle, and with any luck, they'd be gone completely in a week or two. Reporters can have dreadfully short attention spans with so many murders flying about. Hopefully everyone would forget about the handsome lab geek that could solve crimes with his killer mind. Old news is old news, right?
A careful talon pokes Dexter's shoulder, and a cold whisper breaths against his ear.
'What?' Dexter wonders, glancing first back to the photos, and then towards the doorway.
Had someone snuck in for a donut while he'd been mulling this over?
WHAT: Hannibal gets sent to Miami as a consultant and decides to kick back and relax with some mocking copycat murders. Dexter catches wind of him.
WHERE: Miami
WARNINGS: Probably mentions of cannibalism, murder, serial killers, etc...
To almost everyone who worked busily at Miami's Police Department, this day was as normal as any other. There were fresh murders to investigate, there was awful coffee in the employee area in back, and as per usual Dexter had brought a box of donuts to work in order to placate the simple minds of his co-workers. Serial killers were not kind enough to bring everyone donuts, you see.
But to Dexter Morgan, today was a very strange day indeed. There were files the inbox, which sat in his own little office; this is par for the course for most days. But then diligent Dexter noticed something a touch peculiar. The victim in his file was something more than a drunken jealous murder by amateurs; this body was interesting...
There were drilled holes in the bones, for one. It wasn't random torture, though. Dexter had in fact seen these exact drill marks before, from a killer who used to string his victims up like marionettes.
Problem being, Dexter had already murdered that guy and dumped his dissected carcass into the ocean. So it was extremely unlikely that the same man had done this. Of course, he couldn't exactly share this information with anyone, so Dexter had to let the detectives chase thier tails on this, not that it really bothered him.
What did bother him though, were the subtle little differences in the body...
So it was that with a stack of glossy photos Dexter vacated his office in favor of sitting somewhere with apt table space. His search led to a conference room that was currently open for use (and by some fantastic coincidence, it was also the room that housed his half empty box of delicious donuts), so Dexter strolled in, whistling brightly as he dropped the photos on the lacquered table.
Now, about those differences...
Dexter sorted the shots for easy comparison, using both the photos of one of Pupito's (the marionette killer) victims as well as photos of his apparent new victim. Minutes flaked away in the air conditioned room with Dexter carefully looking between the shots of each victim. For one thing... whomever this copycat was, he had a much better sense of how the human body worked than Pupito did. The drill-holes were placed in slightly better positions on the body, if the end goal was moving it around like a puppet. The tools used were of higher quality too, cutting cleanly into the bone, while the previous victim showed more signs of trauma round the drill holes.
For a moment, Dexter cannot help but wonder what kind of drill was used. He could always go for buying some new toys... a slightly dreamy smile touched his face-- though it was stained dark, and not at all like a smile should look. But in barely a moment the look is gone, and Dexter replaces his Happy Worker mask with ease. He remembered that there was a new consultant on staff, on loan from the Baltimore sect of the FBI. He supposed he ought to politely introduce himself and put out some feelers; it wasn't too long ago he'd been caught in the cross-hairs of an FBI agent's suspicions. Though if he wanted to fake optimism, Dexter could always guess the new hire was due to the staggering number of unsolved murders cropping up as of late.
And yes, Dexter could have solved a good portion of them. He simply chose not to, still on the coattails of his terrible love affair with internet fame. The calls for interviews and appearances had slowed to a trickle, and with any luck, they'd be gone completely in a week or two. Reporters can have dreadfully short attention spans with so many murders flying about. Hopefully everyone would forget about the handsome lab geek that could solve crimes with his killer mind. Old news is old news, right?
A careful talon pokes Dexter's shoulder, and a cold whisper breaths against his ear.
'What?' Dexter wonders, glancing first back to the photos, and then towards the doorway.
Had someone snuck in for a donut while he'd been mulling this over?
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It took little effort to plant the idea in Jack Crawford's ear over the course of conversations and shared meals. Jack could certainly understand why Hannibal needed some distance from his friend and his sense of failure in guarding Will's sanity. Better that Jack see it that way.
Hannibal has made use of his time in Miami, taking over a beach house that makes every sunrise a pleasure, visiting a tailor who has already supplemented his wardrobe with patterned linen suits and lightweight casual shirts that doubtless cost more than some of Miami's finest's annual incomes. He doesn't fit in visually in the police department, which suits him perfectly. Is there anything more satisfying than hiding in plain sight?
Yes, as it turns out, there is something more satisfying, and that is to walk into a conference room to see Miami's forensic wunderkind poring over photos of Hannibal's work.
He schools his expression into proper concern rather than show his honest amusement. "Dexter Morgan, is it?"
He lets himself be pulled in by the photographs, scanning them with a critical eye. "Am I interrupting?"
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I am totally BSing some of this so let me know if I need to change it
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