PLEASE READ
GUIDELINES
BEFORE INTERATCION.


SELECTIVE.
LOW ACTIVITY.
OPEN TO MULTIPLE VERSES, SHIPS,
AND CROSSOVERS.

#FORJUSTTICE

INDEPENDENT CLARICE STARLING
OF THOMAS HARRIS'
THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS AND HANNIBAL.
mcrtyrdom: ‘ something’s feeling really fucking weird tonight. ’

ATLAS Sentence Starters / @mcrtyrdom / Still Accepting

        Starling looks up from her makeshift desk ( a seat on the carpet floor, neatly organized stacks of papers lying all around her ) when she hears Will speak. 

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        “Did you find something?” 

Plotted starter for @mcrtyrdom

        It’s a rarity to hear Jack Crawford’s voice strain. 

       When Clarice answers her home phone, it’s Crawford on the line, and what he tells her almost makes her double over. 

       With a curt click, she slams down her phone and slips into a pair of old jeans, a grey t-shirt, and old running shoes. There’s no time to fluff her hair or look in the mirror. 

       The drive to the hospital is a blur of speeding and slowing, yellow streetlights, and the continued mumbling of “it’s all right, it’s all right, it’s all goddamn right—- mother fucking god damn this all.” Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. 


       “Mr. Crawford?” 

       His stoic figure stands outside of the hospital room as the distinct beeping of a heart monitor slams against her ears. They offer each other sad smiles, and he hands her a styrofoam cup filled with coffee. She quietly thanks him and asks how Will is doing, not yet daring to walk in. 

       “He’s cut up, Starling. This isn’t what you’d see in Hogan’s Alley.” 

       “Right.”

       She looks to him with questioning eyes. He grants her the answer she seeks, and she walks into room 304A. The sight of Will Graham forces a chill to run along the outskirts of her body. 

       Not a sight she’d see in Hogan’s Alley, indeed.

       “Shit, Graham.”

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       She’s not even sure if he can hear her, so she takes a seat beside him and looks him over. Her mind will not allow her to imagine the trauma that he underwent due to the hand of the infamous psychiatrist. Indeed, she had met with Hannibal Lecter before. He had shown interest in both of Crawford’s protégés. And Starling knew what the man was capable of—- she never allowed that knowledge to blur her perception of him. Still, seeing what he did—- seeing the image of mutilation before her opal-bright eyes, seeing the destruction that not only affects Graham, but also his family and his career, engenders a lump in her throat. 

mcrtyrdom: ' my testicles have never been my ally. ' i can't believe this could be an actual line from the novel

Shamless Sentence Starters / @mcrtyrdom / Still accepting 

        Starling darts her gaze towards Will Graham and furrows her eyebrows. Then, an amused grin follows. She’s not sure where the hell that came from, but she takes another swig of the beer he offered a while back. ( Were it any other man in the Bureau, making a comment like that, she’d think about decking him. However, she knows that Will’s not trying to get one on her, like the other ones. He’s too messed up, anyway.

         Sometimes she wonders how his mind works when he says stuff like that. Must be the humidity

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        “She that mad, huh?” 

mcrtyrdom: ❝ while we were getting beat up, i think i got to second base. ❞ :3c

✦      THAT    70′S     SHOW    PROMPTS     !

        Clarice tilts her head to the side, momentarily confused by the turn of plot. She already knows a great deal about Will’s days at the academy, but stories like these remind her that not everyone is a special agent every waking hour: a lesson she never fails to forget. The thought of such an absurd event cracks at her composure. 

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        “That’s not the ending I was expecting.” 

HW