Don&#39;t Call It A Gift

"Hello Sinric, hello Hannibal," Noriko greets, playing with her necklace, pretending to straighten it. "You're both...very masculine. You don't have to be," she says. She doesn't particularly care that they're more obviously a same-sex couple, and won't brook many arguments about it once they get to New York.

"Are you both ready?"

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He bows to Remy. "A pleasure. Thank you for this opportunity, Noriko. I'm very much looking forward to this."

He looks down at his - future costume, for lack of a better word. It's quite an expensive designer jacket. "Is it not appropriate? I can change. It won't take me a moment."

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"It is very appropriate," Hannibal assures him. "I will be proud to be seen with you."

Beat.

"Hello, Noriko. Good evening, Monsieur LeBeau."

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Remy nods to them, watching them as he smiles. "I hope you are both ready for some fun. This year's show is supposed to be one of the best." He grins at Noriko, eyes excited some, as well.

After all, the show was a good one, and being there with Noriko sounded like a blast.

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"You look fine," Noriko tells Sinric, reassuring him as she shakes her head. "I just don't want you to be uncomfortable since it isn't your usual style. But there will be people there in all kinds of styles--don't be concerned too much about what you're wearing."

She moves closer to Remy, pairing off though she doesn't step much away from the other two. "I've heard a lot about the show, and it's supposed to be fairly accurate. Hamilton being likely bi and all, and probably poly. For all the good acting on that did him." Things that will fuck up your life in five or fewer easy steps, apparently.

"If anyone gives your shit, just let me know. I can knock someone's heart out of rhythm from thirty feet, so I can take care of it."

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Sinric beams warmly, both at Hannibal's praise and Noriko's kindness. He slips his hand into Hannibal's and bows his thanks to Noriko and Remy. "I hope it shall not come to such need. I would be loathed to spoil an evening with the unkindness of others."

He smiles to Remy. "I look froward to this journey greatly. And this performance. I confess, I know very little about the history of this man, or his nation but it will be a pleasure to learn of it. Are you of the Americas, Monsieur?"

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Hannibal closes his hand around Sinric's narrow finger, smiling at the slight, beautiful and androgynous blond figure beside him.

With a nod, he leaves the explanation of American history, and New Orleans, to Remy.

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Remy gently touches Noriko's arm, just a light thing, and quick, and smiles as he nods to them. "Indeed, mon ami. I'm from New Orleans, in Louisiana, a state in the southernmost part of America. A large number of French settled there, and mixed with both natives and, when America form, with English speakers, to form a whole new group, the Cajun."

His accent thickened as he explained. "It's a beautiful city, and maybe som'time we can show you bot' it's hospitality."

He glanced toward Noriko, one eyebrow rising. "If you all are ready to go, we can wander through, yes?"

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"Hey, don't look at me like that, I've known you way too long to consider calling you anything but your name or your callsign." And even that second one is iffy sometimes: she has issues with the codenames they're assigned, mostly because hers makes her sound like a laundry detergent.

She tunes back in just in time to hear Remy's voice thicken and change as he talks about New Orleans, and the smile it encourages on Noriko's face is undeniable: she really loves it when he talks in his native accent. It's so silly a thing to like, she knows, but still. "I think we're ready. Hannibal has been to our New York--Sinric's probably ready to see it. Are you?" she asks the blond. "You'll enjoy the show, I hope."

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"Ready indeed." he smiles, letting them lead the way, still holding Hannibal's hand. "Thank you. I see so many people of your time here, but so little of the cities and places they shape. I very much look forward to seeing New York." he means it, eager and sweet.

He beams to Remy. "I've been to New Orleans. And it is indeed beautiful. Yrael opened a door into it for a festival. Mardi Gras, I believe it was called?" he looks to Hannibal for confirmation. "I found it a wonderful and welcoming place. So vibrant. And the music!"

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Hannibal nods. "I have been there, both in my world and with Yrael, and I treasure it as a amazing city. I am looking forward to seeing the impression New York will make on Sinric here."

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"S'home, and always will be." Only when he was with Noriko did Remy feel more at home than when he was in New Orleans. "Let's get the night started then. After you, Noriko."

Remy walked with Noriko, to lead the way to the door, letting her open it, then holding it for all. It would be a fun night, he hoped, for everyone.

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"Just don't be surprised when you hear some truly colorful language," she says, and opens the door onto West 46th Street, the one the theatre is on: they're just off Times Square, and the noise from people and cars is audible, the excitement contagious.

Noriko looks up out of habit towards the second-and-third-story windows, seeing a torso leaning out of one. She smiles and lifts a hand to wave, transported back to grinning like a child when the person--face too far away to see detail, but with a ponytail--waves back.

"This should be cool."

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Sinric chuckles. "I enjoy colourful language."

He steps out onto the bright city, in awe of the bustle and brightness. He looks up at the towering buildings, past the waving child and up and up.

The sheer height of it all is wonderful and overwhelming, almost dizzy with vertigo. He laughs brightly, falling backwards into Hannibal.

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Hannibal laughs, catching him as he does. "This is some city," he says, wrapping his arms fondly around Sinric.

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Remy grins as they moved into the lights and night, letting himself fall into an almost strut, a rolling walk as he walks with them, one hand touching Noriko's arm in silent warmth and connection.

They were in New York, old haunting grounds, and in the wild world now, and his eyes and senses moved all around them, watching the people and vantage points, finding exits and entrances, without even consciously deciding to do so.

"The City that Never Sleeps is awake and full of laughter tonight."

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Noriko takes Remy's hand as they wander towards the theatre, squeezing gently and brushing their shoulders together. "I love this city. There's no other place like it in the world," she says, twirling nimbly on her heels and delighting in the brush of a breeze whistling down the street.

"These heights are nothing. You gotta see the Empire State Building," she laughs at Sinric, watching him lean back into Hannibal.

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Sinric pulls Hannibal's arms around him in a warm hugs, stealing a kiss before following their lead. "There's an empire here? I understood America was a Greek democracy?"

He tucks one hand in Hannibal's as they walk, scanning back and forth, taking everything in. It's all so bright and wonderful. He strains to catch snatches of music, the babble of conversation, the clothes of the people they pass.

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"It was merely a nickname, in the beginning," Hannibal says. "There's no empire here -- unless you count economics. At the time of construction, that is; neither New York nor America as a whole is what it used to be, these days."

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Squeezing Noriko's hand, he smiles. "De heart of New York City is one of dance and song. Business moves its blood, but dance and song make its soul." He nods.

"Hopefully, tonight, you see why, yes?" Remy walked with Noriko, and the others, smiling, feeling himself taking in the familiar air.

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"It's called the Empire State," Noriko adds. "They called it that when it was colonized because it had so many resources. Most people draw a distinction between the state and the city, because they're so different. The City that Never Sleeps is...intense. And home for a lot of us--you can find every kind of culture here."

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He listens with fascination, eyes moving constantly, taking it all in. "The City that Never Sleeps. What a fascinating epigraph."

A group of giggling women out on a hens night pass them on the footpath, wolf whistling at Hannibal and Remy. One of them catches Sinric's hand, trying to talk him into coming with them.

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Hannibal smiles at them; it's all in good nature.

"He's the most beautiful of us, but I don't think you can have him, ladies," he tells the young women.

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Remy stepped forth, wagging a finger at them.

"Non, non, ma petites, this one is not for you. Go down Fifth. You'll find more free souls dere. We have a show to catch, us four." He wiggles his fingers at them chidingly, a chuckle in his voice.

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