sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal had gone looking for things to wear that would be comfortable for flying, but was somewhat stymied by the fact that he'd always been a woman in warm weather. He eventually settled on wool pants and a shirt, and his motorcycle jacket. It fit, anyway, and ought to keep him warm. He'd dug out a scarf, too, in case Jono might think it necessary, but gloves...well, he would simply have to have cold hands.

The cats had been fed and were currently sleeping in one of the bay windows, with Beethoven pretending to ignore Joni had her chin on him. Dinner for this evening was prepared or ready for preparing. "Ready whenever you are," he called out, thinking it as well in case Jono wasn't within hearing range.


[OOC: For the still-a-lady!]
sharp_as_knives: (At home)
Hannibal woke and stretched, rolled over, and...oh. It was one of those weekends, was it? He glanced at Jono, amused to see that it appeared to have hit him as well this time - the face above his bandages was decidedly female.

Well, this could be interesting. But first, there were other priorities. He slipped out of bed, cinched his pajamas tighter over his slimmer waist, took a moment to find a properly sized blouse, and headed downstairs to make coffee and breakfast.

Definitely in that order.


[OOC: For the suddenly-not-a-guy!]
sharp_as_knives: (female (headshot))
At least staying at the hotel and meeting in his office meant that it was a short (and pleasant, if cold) walk to work, rather than a drive in Baltimore traffic. Which was especially welcome as his morning routine took a little longer as a woman.

Hannibal chased off the squirrels with a rum bribe and a forbidding look, turned the heat up to a comfortable range, and set out water, then sat at his desk to read a bit while he waited for Derek.



[OOC: NFB because therapy!]
sharp_as_knives: (female (headshot))
After a night of hunting and butchering, Hannibal went to sleep feeling contented.

He woke up feeling contented, rolled over, and...well, that wasn't the shape he was used to. He sat up and looked down at himself. Well, he had been warned.

With a sigh, he got up and headed for the bathroom, cataloguing the differences in center of gravity and muscle mass. By the time he'd showered and taken care of business, he was reasonably confident in his newly female body. He automatically picked up his razor, then chuckled ruefully and set it back down. He wasn't entirely certain what to do with his hair - how it got long he wasn't certain, but applying logic to this was a lost cause anyway - so he combed and styled it as usual and just smoothed the bottom down. It was...acceptable.

He'd bought clothes for this possibility as soon as he'd heard of it, and had some adequate pant suits, but not being certain of his size, he'd been unable to have them properly tailored, and the bra was...uncomfortable. He grimaced at the less-than-perfect fit of everything. Well, that was the first thing to fix.

Right after breakfast.

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