uselessdevice

[uselessdevice]

Reece at Chelsea Flower Show today

[uselessdevice]

Reece's BAFTA Portrait by Charlie Clift 📸

[uselessdevice]

Io Donna, 7 marzo 2015

📷 Paul Schmidt

[uselessdevice]

[uselessdevice]

Dragon Sculptures // Nago Art

[uselessdevice]

@retriibutions // & SPECIAL AGENT HOTCHNER

Any visit from the FBI got tongues wagging all over the lab, but especially when it was the BAU. There was always a flurry of activity, some colleagues wanting to look busier than ever, others grumbling that their case was about to be pulled from under their feet. Personally, Leah breathed a sigh of relief when the BAU got involved. More eyes (and brains) on a case meant it was more likely to be solved- and wasn't that why they were here?

She certainly didn't turn up everyday for the terrible coffee and grim files that waited on her desk.

It didn't take long to spot a familiar face. As the dark haired Agent Hotchner approached, Leah leaned back in her desk chair to give him a cheerful smile and a wave through the glass partition.

"Good to see you Hotch! Though it could always be under better circumstances, huh? How was the flight?"

[uselessdevice]

[uselessdevice]

@hvbris // & JUNIPER

It was at times like this that Saros truly was her mothers daughter. Though she had sympathy for Juniper and cared deeply for her sister, there was a limited thread of patience she could offer.

They all had to do this. It was important. Didn't she see?

It was neccessary.

"Juniper..." Saros replied, holding back a sigh. "You know that's not enough. But you're capable of more than you think, and it's easy- I promise. You're just thinkin' about it too hard."

𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐒 & 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑 @uselessdevice

Juniper winced. Saros didn't need to say it out loud for her to know that Mother was disappointed. She looked at her legs, laying on the grass, and grabbed a daisy, rolling the stem between her fingers. She didn't pluck it.

"I don't think I'll ever be ready," she confessed in a whisper. It was an embarrassing thing to admit. A failure, in a way. "I don't want to let her down. I just..."

She could not even pluck a flower. She never killed bugs. How could she ever kill a person? She trusted Mother's teachings, and she knew she was keeping them safe. But at the same time, the idea of taking a life horrified her.

"Do I have to do it? Surely, it'll be fine if I don't. I'll work harder at my other chores. I can tend to the chickens, and I can knit..."

[uselessdevice]

@mettleborn // & DR LECTER

The girl frowned, mulling this question over. She could remember it vividly even now, the rush of hot blood between her fingers, the weight of a small limp body. The warm feathers slowly growing cold.

Just a little girl swiftly moving down the path to womanhood. How proud mother had been. Saros recalled her dark eyes sparkling, laughter spilling from her lips as her daughter presented this dead thing. The head had still been clutched in a pale bloodied hand, but Saffron Scattergood had taken it, tossing it over her shoulder with more laughter.

And then, a hug. Like a vice, but so comforting. Yes, Saros supposed. She had felt a rush of pride at earning such affection.

"I had to be capable. For mother." She replied, her gaze turned away from his. Instead she was watching her own fingers play back and forth across the arm of her chair, paying attention to the texture.

Remembering the blood.

"I couldn't disappoint her."

At first, Saros Scattergood had been no more than a particularly whimsical sounding name on Lecter’s weekly patient list. Just another young woman, displaced by FBI action, lost, weak and searching for a sense of self, at least that is what she had wholly intended for Hannibal to believe. When you live your life behind a veil it becomes far easier to detect when others are attempting to do the same. The act is only convincing to those that are pre-determined to believe it; Hannibal however has evolved beyond such a simplistic mindset; the veil is never as interesting as what lurks, hidden underneath.

It has taken time for Hannibal to earn Saros’ trust, to teach her that he is not here to correct or condemn her point of view but rather only to understand it. As they sit alone together in his office, they continue to remain deeply involved in this act of exploration, to which both now seem firmly committed. Despite his initial expectations, in recent weeks Hannibal has come to find himself looking forward to their sessions. He can sense that they are both approaching a precipice; a point of no return; a point that beckons Hannibal to reveal a glimmer of himself; a perspective he senses Saros is beginning to suspect they share – the perspective that has led the FBI to consider the young woman dangerous. Two wolves sat together in sheep’s clothing, eager to cast off the itch of unfamiliar wool, however briefly.  

Hannibal’s hands remain clasped in his lap as he listens to her speak. Lecter stopped taking session notes some time ago, he prefers to selectively write up his observations following her departure; one version for the FBI and another for himself.

“You felt pride.” He suggests, witnessing the tone of announcement in her voice and the added comparison she has made between herself and others. “Tell me Saros, what pleased you most? The act itself, or the discovery that you were indeed capable of it?"

[uselessdevice]

@il-mostrc // & DR LECTER

It was rare, having someone make arrangements who was neither family or friend to the deceased. Those who had nobody in life were usually left up to the state, given a cheap and cheerful cremation- after their belongings were auctioned off to pay for it, of course.

Zachariah had processed many a vagrant in his time. They weren't particularly useful for his purposes, unfortunately. Their organs were often spoiled by drugs and malnutrition. Not even blood or eyeballs could be made useful once ravaged by a life on the streets. But he didn't need to be concerned with those problems right now.

The waiting cadaver in the morgue had someone looking out for them, someone very interesting indeed...

"If you have any questions, Dr Lecter, please don't hesitate to ask. We have options to suit all needs here."

He offered a sympathetic smile as he sat down, watching his client on the other side of the desk with a thick brochure in his hands. Glossy pages of caskets, floral arrangements and headstones. And waiting at the doctor's elbow, a separate list of cremation options.

Zachariah was curious to see how this appointment would play out. It was obvious that his client was a wealthy man, elegantly dressed. In fact, Zachariah couldn't help some admiration for that wealth- his suit, his watch, all eye wateringly expensive.

Not unlike his own. But he did so appreciate someone with fine taste.

"And if you don't mind me saying so- it's admirable, what you're doing."

[uselessdevice]

Léa Seydoux and Louis Garrel in Le Deuxième Acte, 2024

[uselessdevice]

Random Richard.  Travel Man: 48 Hours in Tallinn.  (x)

[uselessdevice]

Good news: that hot chocolate is staying hot for hours.

Bad news: you’re not going to be allowed to drink it.

[uselessdevice]

@imjustanauthor // & DALLAS

It was looking like they'd have to risk themselves in order to get answers, but the PI wasn't exactly surprised. Whenever the supernatural was involved, there was a certain amount of digging involved. You had to poke the bear, as it were, get a little too close to get your answers.

"After a call from you? Of course I'm armed." Rufus replied wryly. And for good measure, he raised his jacket to give the other man a fleeting peek at the gun that was nestled underneath, safely tucked into a holster. Also tucked into his jacket was a baton, easily expanded when needed, but small enough when closed to sit snugly in his pocket.

"Seems we've only got one way of findin' out, brother." He added, taking the gun from its holster. "Shall we?"

"Depends on who they'd want to trap, I suppose. Could be they let him go so he'd bring some other fellas back." And it was not impossible that they were those fellas. Well, that Dallas was, anyway. Rufus seemed more likely. After all, how would the Men in Black know that he would be contacted?

Not particularly fond of the idea that he may be the target, Dallas' mind rapidly began attempting to find other solutions. Maybe it was all a coincidence? Maybe they'd missed something?

"Could be that they hadn't set their trap up by that point, I suppose," he mused. "Too busy fixin' to spring the trap to actually do it?"

All of this was theory, though. The truth was, they wouldn't know the truth until they conducted a further investigation, and they could hardly do that from their current position, could they?

"I've got my gun and my lasso. If they're in there, I reckon I could take two of them if you take the third. What d'you think? You're armed, right?"

[uselessdevice]

Richard at The London Library. Great photos by @sarahweal.

[uselessdevice]

New York, 4 dicembre 2019

[uselessdevice]

@hvbris // & MINA

So far, everything was going smoothly. But the real work hadn't started yet. Getting into the park was simple enough- any paying customer was welcome, and with a little family discount, it was easy as pie. Rufus had passed through the security and ticket check systems just like everybody else, no suspicion, no scrutiny. His anonymous client had expected as much.

There were only two things to concern himself about now he was in the park.

One was his meeting with someone on the inside, an IT tech who was willing to assist with the investigation.

Second was the humidity. Used to particularly dry summers in Texas, Rufus had taken shelter at the first aid centre, allowing him to check in with his sister as she'd requested. Leah had no idea that his visit came with an ulterior motive, and that was for the best. They'd caught up briefly, arranging to meet later for dinner, and then he'd reluctantly left behind the comfort of air conditioning so she could get back to her patients.

Rufus moved with the throng of chatty visitors, many of them wearing bright ponchos emblazoned with the Jurassic World logo. An easy $10 right off the bat. He'd chosen to abstain, figuring that any danger of being in the splash zone of this attraction was worth it for a cool off. Scanning the crowd, he saw another bright flash that made his contact stand out. Vibrantly dyed hair which he made a beeline for. He'd been given a picture of the woman, and as he got closer he was satisfied that he was right on target.

"Miss Miller?" He asked, seeing that she'd saved him a seat as planned.

With an excitable crowd around them, nobody would hear a damn thing they said. Especially when the Mosasaurus made it's dramatic entrance.