fandomhigh | Creative Inspirations

"Good morning," Hannibal began when they were all present. "Today we will once again be experiencing a manmade curiosity. In the thirteenth century, the abbot of the Sedlec Cistercian Monastery brought back soil from the holy land, prompting a great number of the faithful to want to be buried in the church. As has happened in other places, once there was no further room for burial, the bones were kept in an ossuary nearby."

//From the outside, it doesn't look like much,// Jono said, hands in his pockets, looking over the faces of the students for any signs that anybody might be uncomfortable with today's trip. It wasn't exactly a cheery vacation destination, however fascinating it seemed to himself and Hannibal, after all. //It's just a small old church, more or less. The inside is… a little bit more striking. The bones were stored there, yes, but there were so many of them, a woodcarver was hired to put them in some sort of order. The result was… rather spectacular, if macabre.//

"If at any point you feel unable to remain with us," no pun intended, naturally, "there is a nearby gift shop, or you can wander the small town. Though we will be in the Czech Republic, so unless you speak Czech, I recommend you not go too far," Hannibal cautioned.

Jono was still briefly tempted to elbow Hannibal for that completely-unintentional-honest pun all the same. Honestly, Hannibal.

//If you're exceptionally uncomfortable and would rather not wander alone, feel free to grab me,// Jono added, just to be on the safe side. //I'd rather not have anybody doing anything they're really not okay with today, especially given that these are actual human remains we're dealing with. For those who do stick around… no touching, please. Because, again, human remains. Respect for this history and the people involved in it above all else, while we're out today.//

"And whether you are awestruck, horrified, or any combination thereof, we hope that it inspires you," Hannibal said.

He led them through the portal, which let them out in the charming little cemetery surrounding the chapel. It was a lovely day.

[OOC: OCD up! Also, a warning, links lead to photos of (very artistically arranged) human bones. Click at your own discretion!]

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"'s a bit off-putting, isn't it?" Edward mused to himself, like a man completely unawares of the amount of skulls he'd be putting on things five years from now.

To be fair, he wasn't genuinely put off. A little weirded out, perhaps.

"Is it?" Hannibal asked. "Why do you say that?" There was no judgement in his voice, only curiosity.

"Arranging a dead man's bones like it's a bouquet of flowers," Edward said. He squinted towards Hannibal. "Doesn't that strike you as off-putting?"

Hannibal looked around at the bones as he thought.

"If you believe these are all just structures, no humanity attached, I think the artistry is admirable. If you look at them as the remains of individuals, it's worth considering that many of these people paid considerable sums to be laid to rest within the grounds, and are now actually a part of the chapel itself."

He smiled at one of the skulls. "Personally, I should much rather be made into art than left to molder underground. Wouldn't you?

Edward thought about it - really thought about it.

After a short silence, he said, "i'd find being alive still vastly preferable to both," he said.

Hannibal laughed quietly. "Definitely. But death is a part of life and comes to...well, to most of us, at any rate." Jono was still debatable.

"Perhaps, but it seems like a grand waste for a man to linger on it when there's still so much living to be done," Edward said.

But then he was an optimist for his time.

"Do you mean the artist?" Hannibal asked. "Or the visitors? The church has always very much been about death."

"I mean in general," Edward said, shrugging. "You're the one taking a set of strapping young folk into a tomb, sir."

"The visitors, then," Hannibal said, unperturbed. "There are many reasons to visit such a place. Some come out of religious fervor for a holy site, some to visit a testament to creativity. Some find a kind of triumph in looking at all of this and thinking, 'Not me. They are dead, but I'm not.' A defiant act of laughing in the face of death. And for some, death is so unspeakably ugly they come to see how there can be any beauty in it."

He glanced at Lottie. "And some people, apparently, find it extremely 'metal'." He still wasn't sure exactly where that fell, though it seemed to be mostly involved with the latter two.

"Sounds like five different counts of morbid curiosity to me," Edward said. "Because it is morbid." The thought did dawn in his head that that wasn't the sort of answer Doctor Lecter wanted to hear, but, well, he'd never managed to be good at keeping his tongue.

Hannibal shrugged. "Different flavors of curiosity, perhaps, yes. I wouldn't say it's unhealthy, though. Dwelling on it might be, but so would ignoring it." He eyed Edward curiously. "You grew up on a farm, yes?"

Edward eyed him with a little wariness. "Aye," he said. "A sheep farm. Near Swansea."

Hannibal nodded. "I imagine you've eaten an animal you knew, then. Do you find that odd or unhealthy?"

"No," Edward said, "But then I'm not very fond of sheep."

Hannibal chuckled. "Nor am I. Still, many people these days would find that morbid - knowing the life and perhaps the name of an animal you're eating. It's a matter of perspective."

"If that's the sort of thought that helps these visitors sleep at night," Edward said, "Who am I to judge?"

It was morbid.

You were still judging, Edward; Hannibal could tell.

He smiled. "Everybody has thoughts that help them sleep at night." He gestured to the bones. "If yours don't include this, there's a cafe across the street."

Creative Inspirations | Monday, period 1

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