sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Lucille, Hannibal had no doubt, had heard the entire altercation with Jack. But she was inclined to murder herself, and had helped him after, so he wasn't worried about that.

Sparkle, on the other hand, he had little doubt had also heard, and he'd not seen hide nor hair of the boy since. And while Sparkle did seem to harbor his own sort of ruthlessness, it hadn't yet extended to murder save when they hadn't entirely been themselves.

So, Hannibal had phoned him and left a message. A request, not a demand, to speak with him.

Now he waited and hoped.


[Hannibal's home all day; open post other than Sparkle's thread. The nature of Jack's beef with Hannibal and the discussion of murdertimes NFB!]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Between his cracked ribs, wrenched leg, and bruised...everything...it took a while longer for Hannibal to get home than usual, even with Jono helping.

Well, at least they had dinner already made, thanks to Eliot. And the time spent wrapped so close to Jono did give him time to soak in Hannibal's calm, which would hopefully help. Along with the aches and pains he was feeling, unfortunately; Hannibal had considered attempting to hide them, but he rather thought Jono wouldn't thank him for that.

Luckily, there was a full bath on the lower level, since that seemed to be where Hannibal was grounded to.

He wasn't bothering to hide his amusement at being grounded, either. Even if he suspected it rather defeated the purpose.

"Am I entitled to towels after my soak?"
sharp_as_knives: (even my suit is bored)
Relaxed (and cheese-smell-free) after the week in remote Sweden, Hannibal smiled as he stepped through the portal to home.

His smile went away. "What is that noise?"
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Today had been a mix of overcoming a hangover, finishing the preparations for class, class itself, cooking a proper breakfast and lunch, and trying to find time in between to reconnect with both himself and Jono.

Now, home from class and with nothing else to do (before they had to start planning a third wedding), Hannibal had fallen back on an assortment of berries with chocolate sauce, and coffee with brandy.

He was eating it in bed, and to hell with it. If the sheets got sauce on them, they could be washed. Or thrown out.

This was as close as Hannibal got to a Mood without being actively homicidal.
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
They weren't expecting any visitors today, and the invitations and prep work for the wedding were done (again). So, after Jono got home from the music shop, they met in what was now the gym, though the lights had been turned down and a comfortable sort of nest set up in the middle.

[OOC: for the one mentioned!]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal hadn't noticed anything different yet today himself. He'd heard the radio, which had made him cautious, but it wasn't as though he made a habit of lying to the cats, or even to Jono these days.

So, he was staying inside for the moment and working on new wedding preparations. It wasn't as though things could go bad that way, after all.



[OOC: Open post!]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal had been, unsurprisingly for those who had been at the wedding, rather annoyed recently. He suspected his sudden attack of snake earlier this week had been the island's way of giving him a vacation.

Or of keeping him here and not out hunting quite so much. Though that did little to explain Jono's transformation. Or maybe it did.

Whatever the reason, he had now been himself again for most of a day, and he was feeling much more relaxed.

It helped that he was in his kitchen, working on a simple veal saltimbocca and listening to some lovely music.


[OOC: Expecting one, but open!]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal had set up for his usual tutoring of Lucille today - there were tea and scones in the music room, and he was drinking coffee - but he also had his tablet on his lap and was trying to coordinate - again - the wedding. At least this time the Boards might be ready?

There was no way they were having it in Jono's world again. Or his own, come to that.



[OOC: Open post!]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal had spent most of the day on the phone with florists and the cake shop, the hotel and banquet hall, and a few of the guests, arranging some last-minute things. And brushing the cat, because biology waited for no weddings, and he had to keep the shedding down.

Now, he was reading and listening to Bach, sipping some very good tea.

It was a good day.


[OOC: Open post!]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal had seen Lucille this weekend, but neither of them had remembered their usual Saturday lessons. And this weekend was likely to be too busy with wedding preparations. So Hannibal had written Lucille and asked if she would prefer to make up the week's lesson today.

Which meant that he was readying tea, scones, and the harpsichord for his student. And playing a bit himself before she got there, just to get back in practice.


[OOC: Expecting one, but open post outside of the lesson!]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal woke, rolled over, and stretched. There was...something odd about the weekend, but if he were going to think about that, he would need coffee.

So he thought about it as he went downstairs, made the coffee, and brought it back up. He stored all the memories he could recall in his memory palace as he worked his way through his cup, sitting on the bed next to Jono.



[Expecting the one mentioned, but open post once they leave the bedroom!]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal slept even less than Jono these days, but that didn't stop him from lying in bed and enjoying the closeness and occasionally drifting off. When he woke again and stretched, it was still early; he decided to increase his chances of waking Jono up by wandering down to make coffee.

There were odd differences in the decor of the house that he couldn't quite place - what had Fandom been doing today? But it wasn't enough to bother him until he headed back upstairs with the tray. And stopped short at the top. "Beethoven?" He knelt carefully and held his hand out to the old cat, who sniffed it a little suspiciously before turning around and heading to the bedroom.

By the time Hannibal set the coffee service down on the nightstand, Beethoven was curled at the foot of the bed and Hannibal was running confused possibilities through his head.


[OOC: Expecting the one there, but open post!]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal could have gone all-out with a gourmet dinner for Sparkle's birthday. But this was Sparkle's birthday, so he'd opted for something else - his own touch on food that Sparkle would be more familiar with.

So, when Sparkle arrived for dinner, he'd find the house smelling of poutine with pork confit and foie-gras sauce, steamed fiddleheads with wild leek greens, and butter tarts with caramel sauce. There was also a very good homemade beer to go with it all.

Happy birthday, Sparkle!
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Since Kanan had been in no shape last night to tell Hannibal where he lived, he'd ended up in one of Hannibal's guest rooms. His shoes and jacket were under a plush chair next to the bed, the chair itself weighing them down so they wouldn't escape.

Hannibal woke up as early as was his custom, but when getting ready involved bodily threatening every article of clothing, it took a bit longer than usual. He ended up sans jacket and socks, but with a shirt, waistcoat, and trousers that worked well together, at least. (His shoes were currently pinned in the corner of the closet after being threatened with a scalpel.)

Now he was drinking coffee to the sounds of Tosca and thumbing through his recipes for something that sounded good. He had company, after all.


[OOC: Expecting one, but open post!]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
After numerous false starts, a (metric) ton(ne) (depending who you were asking) of planning, and only a little bit of veiled threatening of vendors, they had finally gotten to this point, which required manual labor. And Hannibal had no plan of doing it on his own.

So, he set the boxes on his desk, along with a list and two fountain pens, and called, Jono?
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Tea and harpsichord; it had become Hannibal's Saturday routine. Today it was somewhat altered by the need to placate cats that had finally gotten both Jono and their sauna permissions back and were being extra demanding for some reason.

The second time he had to remove Beethoven from the counter, he stood there in a staring contest with him for several minutes. "You have your food. I very much doubt you want tea. Go bother Jono."

He didn't seem to be listening very well. And not only because he was deaf.


[OOC: Open post!]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal cleaned up after his dinner and went back up to the sauna, shooing the cats away. Again.

He leaned against the wall inside and gave the tiny bright snake a look. He was stretched out and looked indecently happy. He was also still a snake. "I don't suppose you're planning on turning back in time to wear a ring, are you?"
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
It was difficult to miss the large thing hanging over the island. Well, at least Hannibal hadn't been kidnapped by this one. Nor had Jono; he was still lounging in the sauna after a meal of very expensive raw pork, looking as smug as it was possible for a snake to.

Hannibal considered briefly that it might be interesting to investigate what was going on. But really, he wasn't in the mood for it.

Instead, he made tea on the off-chance that Lucille still showed for her lesson, and sat sipping his own cup and catching up on the medical advancements from a number of interesting worlds on his tablet.



[OOC: Open post! No Brood will be getting into the house, if anybody wants to lie low.]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal had sent out another message to all and sundry: Breakfast for the children; breakfast and drinks for the adults.

Then he'd set about making coffee to get his brain in gear and feeding the cats to get them out of the way, before starting on breakfast )

He'd be finishing everything as soon as possible, to spend time with his own impromptu family while it lasted.

[OOC: Open to all, as usual! Playdate, anyone? No OCD.]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal had sent a text message to all the usual suspects - that was, everybody he knew on the island or who might have children there: Dinner tonight for the children and a chance to relax for the adults.

So he was setting about making food. A lot of food.


[OOC: Open to anyone; if you think you got the text, you did. If you think you didn't but you want to show up, feel free to drop by anyway! No OCD today; I'm continuing the trend of lazy.]

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