cypress towers

bayobayo  asked:

*throws flowers**gives the bearest bear hug* CONGRATULATIONS ON 500 AAAAAAAAAAAAA

Aaaahhhhh thank you boo!! 。・゚・゚ʕ゚>ᴥ<ʔ・゚・。

[Currently taking one-word prompts for ficlets and headcanons]

Sidebar: I grew up on the Gulf Coast, so this is a topic near to my heart <3

Several years into their life together after the fall, Will takes Hannibal on vacation in New Orleans:

  • Hannibal is completely enamored, of course, with seeing the place where Will spent his formative years. One night, they get a little tipsy on milk punch on the balcony of a hotel bar, and he begins drawing long and increasingly absurd comparisons between his youth in Florence and Will’s youth here, where all the cultures and ghosts of the Americas meld. Will tunes him out after several minutes, but enjoys watching the sensual glow of the streetlights on his lips as they form around the words.
  • Hannibal takes to Sazeracs, ordering one at the beginning of every meal, and insisting that Will select the bourbon for him. He loves encouraging his boy’s palate, experiencing what Will would choose for himself, tasting Will through the bitter anise and tart lemon. Will enjoys pulling him to the men’s room hallway between courses and getting his own taste.
  • They sit on the sidewalks of the French Quarter, listening to makeshift jazz bands in the street, collectives of strangers who come together to create a unified melody. Will explains the history of music in this part of the world, and Hannibal is rapt with attention, studying their faces, their fingers, their mouths, his mind ticking away creating spaces for all this new knowledge.
  • Will drives them out of the city and into the bayous, where they buy a small old motorboat with an envelope of cash. He takes Hannibal up the winding waterways and into the Atchafalaya, skimming through the towering bald cypress trees. They park for a while in the basin, absorbing the ghostly silence, pierced by bird calls and the occasional faraway splash. Will points out a floating alligator, its single open eye the only thing distinguishing it from a log. This sets Hannibal off on a tangent about predators and prey, at which point Will decides they’ve had enough nature for one day and turns the boat back around.
  • On the way back to the dock, they stop at a small shack at a makeshift pier for lunch. The handpainted sign outside reads CATFISH - GULF SHRIMP - GATOR. Will speaks to the woman behind the counter in fluent Cajun, both of them laughing at the face Hannibal makes as he tries to understand the broken French. When Will comes to the table, he has a large mixed basket for them to share, full of freshly caught seafood fried in cornmeal, with hush puppies and red beans on the side. It’s greasy and wonderful, and Will decides he’s never seen anything better than Hannibal eating with his hands and wiping them off with paper napkins.
  • In the mornings, Will takes Hannibal to the French Quarter for chicory coffee and fresh, hot beignets. Hannibal never fails to end up with powdered sugar all over his nose, and Will never fails to laugh at him for it before kissing it off.
  • They go on long walks through the above-ground cemeteries, reading the names and final wishes of people long gone. Hannibal stops often to touch and admire the statuaries, and to wonder aloud about the lives of the people who chose them. Will jokes that he’d shudder to think what Hannibal would choose for their joint gravesite, and Hannibal gets an odd, far-away look in his eyes before dragging him close and kissing him in a way that’s much too obscene for a churchyard.

The tall Italian cypresses towering between the Haunted Mansion and Splash Mountain had previously lined the entrance of Tomorrowland.

They were moved to their present location in 1967 when the new Tommorrowland was unveiled. Bill Evans, Disneyland’s head landscape architect for many years, thought that they would suit the Mansion’s landscaping. His idea was perfect because cypresses often symbolize death.