Gourmet Suite at the Arms Hotel, Sunday morning

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal woke up, stretched, and blinked. Then gave himself a moment to appreciate the lack of any particularly overwhelming emotion this morning.

He looked over at the others in bed with him whoever ended up in the cuddle pile and chuckled. Well, it had been interesting, there was no denying that.

However, he had no intention of spending another day in Jono's clothing or his own pajamas, thank you.

He got up carefully, took a shower and dressed casually but in his own clothes, and headed out to start the coffee.

He had a feeling they might be needing it.

Comments

[furnaceface]

//A barber? My hair is innocent, it hasn't done anything to hurt you,// Jono protested, eyes going wide. //What would you have a barber do?//

If it involved pie, Jono was out of there so fast.

[sharp_as_knives]

Jono, you had already let the cannibal tie you up. It was a bit late to be worrying about pie now.

Hannibal gave him a slightly exasperated look. "I doubt a trim would go amiss." His expression turned both canny and sympathetic. "When was the last time you pampered your body? Had a manicure or haircut or went to a spa?"

You had entirely too confrontational a relationship with your body, Jono.

[furnaceface]

Look, so far as Jono was concerned, his body had started it!

//I'm sure I have, at some point in my life, been near a spa. Maybe even down the same street. There is a distinct chance that I could've even glanced through the window from the sidewalk. But I was never the spas and manicures sort. The best you're getting out of me in that regard is that I don't chew my fingernails.//

Because duh.

[sharp_as_knives]

"And you've decided this in your vast experience of them?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

After a moment, he continued. "Do you know, I have had many patients who are reluctant to begin taking prescribed psychiatric medicines? Because they have been known to be overprescribed, overused, and abused by some people, they suffer from a terrible issue of image. Even when they could do somebody quite a bit of good."

He concentrated on making certain the frittata was cooking evenly and on not smiling too much.

[furnaceface]

Jono could see your smile, Hannibal. He could see it, and he was going to put a little more effort into attempting to look grumpy.

//Here's where I say that image shouldn't matter just so long as they're doing what they need to do in order to heal, and then you get that smug look on your face, innit?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Only if you continue to refuse to admit the possibility that a bit of relaxation and physical pampering - of the platonic kind," he clarified, "might do you just as much good, regardless of the image."

He shrugged. "So, it's either a smug look, or a gracious nod. Either comes complimentary with arrangements to relax and see you properly turned out."

[furnaceface]

Jono wasn't sulking, but lord, he was tempted. He might've, even, if he thought for a moment that it would do him any good.

//It's less about the image of it,// he admitted, after a moment. //I just never much saw the point. A manicure isn't going to last long on a guitarist, a massage would involve scaring the shite out of any masseuse that asks me to take my wrappings off, and so on. Just seemed like more trouble than it was worth.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal thought about that for a moment, then nodded. "Perhaps we can forego the manicure, then. But there are enough people here from enough different places, I'm certain we can find someplace for a massage."

He gestured at the crystal on the counter. "Rather a pity we can't harness enough of yesterday's mood from these to make people behave civilly. I know some very good spas, but my world probably isn't the best place."

[furnaceface]

//Your world would likely involve a lot of being screamed at, yes. There is a spa on the island,// Jono replied a little defeated. //They might not be familiar with me, personally, but they certainly wouln't find me all that odd. And if not there... somewhere, I'm sure.//

He was mostly resigned to this. Not thrilled about it, but resigned to it.

[sharp_as_knives]

"You needn't sound so enthusiastic," Hannibal told him dryly. "The spa here will suffice if we can't find another, but I believe you might find it more relaxing if any other potential guests might not be students or coworkers."

[furnaceface]

//Coworkers wouldn't be so bad,// Jono offered. //I can name at least one that's already seen far more than what a massage would uncover.//

And there, he was raising his eyebrows a little.

//... Students would be awkward.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"At least one?" Hannibal questioned, chuckling. "Clearly I miss the best gossip. Other coworkers, then. And students. What about Glacia?" he suggested. "I imagine if they have a similar sort of place, Karla will know of one."

[furnaceface]

//Glacians... probably wouldn't be too concerned about the fire,// Jono admitted, still a little grudgingly. //They'd be more interested in whatever gossip they can dig up about me, I imagine. Still...//

He... really had no argument beyond that. And he did need fancy clothing that he could wear at Court functions. He was still a little bad, for that.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Ah, but we have an advantage there we haven't got here - as Queen, I'm certain Karla could order that you not be bothered, and enforce it," Hannibal pointed out. "I doubt the students here would be impressed."

[furnaceface]

//She could,// Jono agreed, sounding slightly bewildered by the notion. Karla giving orders. People following them. It was still a new concept to him, even in the wake of the war. //Not entirely certain how well it'll work. The First Circle, especially the ones who were instrumental in winning Glacia's war, all have targets on their heads. Actually, I was the first attempted assassination after we overtook the Estate.//

Lucky him! Though, admittedly, that had mostly been a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time while one of Hobart's lackeys was lurking in the Estate's hallways.

//Not that I'm afraid for my life, exactly. I just mean, there are enough people in Glacia who'll find a loophole out of spite if they can. Especially the sort who can afford spa days. We're none too popular among the more petty of the wealthy aristos who Hobart was playing to please.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Would they try again? Hannibal would enjoy that. And murder wasn't even illegal!

"Do you think there's enough chance of another attempt that it would keep you from fully relaxing?" he asked. "I'm sure there are other places we could try as well."

[furnaceface]

Jono shook his head a little, grudgingly.

//They wouldn't be able to kill me even if they took my head off,// he pointed out. //Not... that I'm in any hurry to lose my head, granted, but I was actually, oddly, significantly easier to kill when I was larger and whole.//

And blue.

[sharp_as_knives]

Not to mention exhausted and wounded.

"I will ask her, then. I doubt she can help with tailors, though, unless you wish to wear Glacian clothing?" That might be interesting, too, although it wasn't what Hannibal had had in mind.

[furnaceface]

//Well, I'm going to need to get myself some of that, too,// Jono admitted, //though it's really not my style.//

He fit in better even among the Eyriens than with most Glacian aristos. At least the leather, he could get behind. It was practical!

[sharp_as_knives]

"Excellent," Hannibal answered with a nod. "Both European and Glacian outfits, then."

Was that not wonderful, Jono?

Even Hannibal's poker face was a little difficult to keep.

[furnaceface]

//... Both?//

You know, it was not too late for Jono to hit that window running after all.

[sharp_as_knives]

Yes, Jono, it was. Hannibal would enlist help if he needed to.

Or just trip you.

"You should have at least some flattering clothing here, and as you are a member of Karla's court, your looking poorly will reflect upon her," he pointed out. He freed the frittata from the pan and began slicing it. "I'll let them clothe me as well, if it will help."

Please. He'd seen Glacia's formal clothing. Even if he never wore it again, he would relish the chance. Not to mention he could pull it off much better than most of the aristos he'd seen.

[furnaceface]

Yeah, Hannibal. Jono was side-eyeing you for that one.

//Because dressing in Kaeleeran formalwear would be a terrible hardship for you, I'm certain.//

Dry. So dry.

[sharp_as_knives]

"And for you it would be, because?" Hannibal asked with a curious look.

[furnaceface]

... Dammit.

//Because... they're...// He balked, groping around for words. Funnily enough, there really weren't any coming to mind that would help him out, here. 'Restricting' wouldn't hold given his usual choice in clothing, for example. //They're...//

Bugger.

//... Fine. This one, I'll grant, is an image thing.//