Application for tartarusnet

[ethicalbutcher]

|| Player Information ||
Name: Xan
Personal Journal: cubewithlegs
Time zone: GMT-7 / Arizona
Contact: email / gtalk: alexxan@gmail.com / AIM: ba5tardly
Current Characters: n/a

|| Character Information ||
Fandom: Hannibal (NBC TV show)
Name: Dr. Hannibal Lecter, MD
Canon Point: After Season 1, Episode 10.
History:
http://hannibal.wikia.com/wiki/Hannibal_Lecter_(TV)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hannibal_Lecter

Note: I am very familiar with the Thomas Harris books that the tv show is based on, and I tend to assume that any history not explicitly contradicted by the show or rendered impossible by the changed timeline (the original story was set about 35 years earlier) matches the other canon, especially because small details so far have fallen in line (being orphaned and raised by his uncle Robert, his residency at Johns Hopkins, etc). My headcanon difference for the timeline is that the wartime atrocities he encountered as a child were during the Soviet fighting in Lithuania during the 70’s-80’s rather than during WWII.

Personality:
Hannibal has a mind that his fellow psychologists would find fascinating, not because he is mad, but because he is, on many levels, frighteningly sane.

On the outside, Hannibal appears to be an intelligent, cultured gentleman. He is eminently polite and skilled at putting others at ease. He projects himself as gentle and compassionate, a good listener—good skills for a psychiatrist so deeply concerned for his patients and friends and always available for their needs. He is a gracious host, inviting others into his home and often serving them elaborate dishes prepared with loving skill, sparing no expense for their comfort and clearly enjoying their enjoyment of his food. He attends performances of the opera and the symphony, and is well known to the community not only for his true and avid appreciation of the arts, but his charitable contributions to their support as well. He sketches beautifully from both life and memory, and plays the harpsichord. While understandably offended by rudeness and those who ruin those things he finds pleasurable, he seems to allow everything to roll off his back, accepting even insults with the same forgiving calm.

But much of that is, as his own psychiatrist observed, an elaborate human suit, so well-crafted that almost no one can see the seams. But they’re there, if one knows where to look.

Beneath, he is a different creature entirely. He seems to view humanity much as a shepherd might view his flock. Or, perhaps even more accurately, how a hunter might view the population of deer that he has grown accustomed to stalking. He is above all of them, distant from their small, slow minds and petty concerns. Humans are transparent, messy, selfish. Rude. Often offensive. And in the stunning architecture of Hannibal’s memory, no grievance is forgotten. And those who have transgressed against him are… culled from the herd. Perhaps not today. Perhaps not for years. But sooner or later, he finds those distasteful beings who have crossed his path and puts their bodies to better use. More… tasteful use. Or at least tasty.

As the killer known by media and authorities as the Chesapeake Ripper, he is capable of phenomenal brutality, not only literally butchering his victims and removing select organs for his table, but mutilating their bodies, leaving their corpses open and humiliated, a testament to the shame they should have felt in life. He executes—no pun intended—his work with the same flare with which he cooks and sketches, and the same skill that earned him his surgical residency at Johns Hopkins. He sees himself an artist, and wants others to appreciate his artistry. In addition, the meat he harvests he not only consumes himself, but prepares for his guests as well, taking pleasure in watching the enjoyment others get in savoring the flesh of what had once been another human being—sometimes even someone they had known.

But while the stereotype about psychopaths is that they do not feel emotion, that isn’t really true, even in Hannibal’s case. He certainly feels pleasure and pain, anger, even on occasion regret. What he lacks is a conscience, or a normal sense of empathy. He can get inside others heads, deduce their motivations, understand what they must be feeling—but the pain of others is nothing to him. Regrettable, sometimes, but in the way that you regret having to toss out a cherished possession. These things simply happen.

Which isn’t to say that he doesn’t like humanity. He does, in his own way. He finds people fascinating. They are his personal ant farm. He reads the news avidly, and it’s likely that part of the reason he went into psychiatry—and talk therapy in particular—was so that he could peer inside the fascinating minds of a variety of interestingly disturbed people. And on rare occasions it goes beyond mere interest into something deeper—though he still has little use or for “normal” human relationships.

He seems to have some respect for a handful of people, and those are the ones who he comes the closest to sharing a friendship with—his own psychiatrist Dr. Bedelia DuMaurier, Jack Crawford, and Dr. Alana Bloom. Each of these he entertains, though Dr. DuMaurier intentionally keeps him at a distance—and is likely the closest to seeing him for what he truly is, if not what he has done.

Others, like the girl Abigail Hobbs, he seems interested in understanding, and perhaps even shaping. Some part of him hungers to be understood, to have a companion who would truly appreciate his artistry in a way that the gawking media cannot.

One individual falls into both categories, and so Hannibal’s interest in him borders on obsession—Will Graham, consultant to the FBI in forensic psychology due to his uncanny ability to get inside the heads of serial murderers. Hannibal sees in Will a brilliant mind, someone truly capable of understanding him in a way that no one else can. He also sees in Will the barely-restrained urges that could all too easily lead him down the path of becoming exactly like those he hunts. And that, too, Hannibal would find favorable.

It’s in his interactions with Will that we see Hannibal truly shine as a manipulative bastard of the highest degree. While Will confides in him as both a friend and a therapist, Hannibal encourages Will’s instability while under the guise of helping him to understand his “mental illness” (many of the symptoms of which in fact stem from physiological causes, not psychological—something Hannibal is now certain of, but lying to Will about.) He also wants to see Will kill, and will pull whatever strings he must to put Will in that position, even if it means risking Will’s life. He wants to push Will to his breaking point and see what he becomes.

Part of his willingness to put Will in danger must be his own confidence in his calculations of Will’s success, especially because he lost his temper and endangered himself and his cover in doing so when he thought that Will might have been killed in a scenario that Hannibal helped to engineer. He really does seem to genuinely care about Will, especially with the lengths he will go to in an attempt to manipulate him--but that doesn’t stop him from using Will as a human guinea pig merely to sate his own curiosity.


Skills | Powers:
Hannibal's primary advantage is that he is incredibly intelligent. He's very skilled at deductive reasoning, allowing him to read people and situations with ease, very similar to how Sherlock Holmes is often portrayed. In addition, he has an incredibly acute memory, especially visual memory, which he supplements with the use of the "memory palace" technique. Physically, he has a very sharp sense of smell, and the book canon remarks upon his surprising physical strength for his frame.

As far as learned skills, he was a very accomplished surgeon and continues to practice some of those skills, albeit often on the deceased. After leaving surgery, he became a psychiatrist, and continues to practice cognitive behavioral therapy with his patients. He is also an extremely talented amateur chef specializing in cuts of meat often neglected by the modern western diet. His greatest weakness is his arrogance, as he often fails to recognize that others actually pose any true threat to him.

First Person Sample:
[ Text ]

Good Evening,

I have only recently arrived here, and while I have settled in well enough, I have not yet been introduced to the social and cultural landscape. I would like to rectify that, preferably through learning about what all of you enjoy.

Therefore, I am arranging a little get-together for any connoisseurs of the arts who may have found their way here. I am something of an amateur chef, and will attempt to provide food and drink from my own kitchen. I only ask that my guests provide the conversation.

If you are interested in attending, please R.S.V.P. at your earliest possible convenience.

Respectfully Yours,
Hannibal Lecter, M.D.

Third Person Sample:
Hannibal hummed softly to himself, E lucevan le stelle from Puccini's Tosca. Cavaradossi, a painter, lamenting his love as their execution loomed. A part fitting for his ingredients this evening, he thought. Perhaps the vandal had considered himself a painter. Perhaps he had thought that he was making art when he sprayed his bright orange Valspar aerosol paint along the side of Hannibal's car. He had certainly been quick to confess to his handiwork when Hannibal had stepped outside and seen him.

Hannibal had not taken the vandal up on any of the colorful suggestions he had offered along with that confession, but he had kept them in mind when a week later he did follow the boy back to his apartment. It didn't take long at all to quickly ensure that the community college dropout turned graveyard convenience store clerk would be participating in no more property destruction, nor any of the several other crimes Hannibal noted evidence of within the residence.

The authorities would find him in a corner of the Baltimore Museum of Art's celibrated sculpture gardens, where he could hopefully absorb some true outdoor art, perhaps aided by the numerous puncture wounds inflicted upon his body by the multitude of paintbrushes that had been inserted therein.

Well, they would find most of him, at least.

The kidneys had been cleaned when he brought them home, and now he slid his knife neatly between the organ's flesh and the outer membrane, easing each out of their skin before slicing them in half and removing the lingering bits of ureter and veins. Into the bowl the kidneys went, along with herbed vinegar and a hint of the Chianti Superiore that would form their sauce.

He covered the dish and set it aside, moving to the sink to wash his hands. They would marinate there until it was time to throw them into the pan and finish the dish. In the meantime, he had so much else to do. It was only an intimate little dinner for two, but he wanted to make a good impression, and he had so many exciting ideas he wanted to try. He needed to hurry.

After all, he didn't want to keep Will waiting.

Marks: “C” for “cannibal” over his stomach. For reasons that should be obvious.