[The smell of soup and bread has filled the kitchen, and Hannibal has calmly been checking on both, adjusting here, turning there. He looks up when he hears Jean enter, listening in the distracted way of a man focused on a task.
But he knows that all this is about him. He's not deaf, and his own comm has been sitting on the counter beside his ladle.
Satisfied that the soup is simmering, he wanders away from it, wiping his hands unnecessarily on a towel before slipping off the white jacket.]
This really isn't necessary.
[It's mildly said as he folds the lab coat over his arm, smoothing out wrinkles.] Who I was before...does not seem worth remembering.
[He's still so baffled by the memories, knowledge of facts without understanding the whys of any of it. He would never do those things now. He's fixed.]
spam
But he knows that all this is about him. He's not deaf, and his own comm has been sitting on the counter beside his ladle.
Satisfied that the soup is simmering, he wanders away from it, wiping his hands unnecessarily on a towel before slipping off the white jacket.]
This really isn't necessary.
[It's mildly said as he folds the lab coat over his arm, smoothing out wrinkles.] Who I was before...does not seem worth remembering.
[He's still so baffled by the memories, knowledge of facts without understanding the whys of any of it. He would never do those things now. He's fixed.]