Hannibal's house, Sunday

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal set the large glass of home-brewed dark ale on the end table, along with the tiny pork pies and pickle and the remote control for the music system.

And, because he could surf Google and iTunes as well as anyone, and it never paid to be too predictable, he was playing (not too loudly) Opeth.

He was even wearing a comfortable sweater and slacks instead of a suit. He was picking his battles today, and his battle was how greasy not to make fish and potatoes! Since they'd been so rudely interrupted by eels earlier.


[OOC: Waiting on one, but totally open!]

[OOC the second: Specifics of Jono's story NFB, please!]

Comments

[furnaceface]

Bloody eels, right? Fortunately, today was, thus far, pleasantly eel-free. And Jono had decided to go for a fairly comfortable ensemble as well, settling for black jeans and a plain red t-shirt, nothing too terribly worn down.

And, yes, his long brown coat. He really was going for comfort today. Besides, he could fit cds into the pockets of that one. Just in case they got to music sharing today. He probably wasn't expecting the heavy metal to already be playing when he got there today, no.

He'd be surprised, no doubt, once the door was open. For the time being, he was just knocking and blissfully unaware of Hannibal's music choices for the day.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal answered the door and smiled at Jono. "Shall we try this again? Please, come in."

Beethoven looked up from his perch in the bay window and gave Jono a suspicious eyeball, trying to determine if the tiny ball of fur was with him.

[furnaceface]

The tiny ball of fur was quite often with him, true! Jono was trying something new today and leaving Joni at home to harass Rinoa's dog, Angelo, instead. Beethoven was off the hook. This time.

//Thanks,// Jono replied, nodding as he stepped through the door. //And how're you doing today? Not a single eel in si-- is that Opeth?//

Proper greetings needed to be put on hold for a moment. The Swedish metal needed to be addressed first.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal paused to listen for a moment. "Yes, it is. 'The Devil's Orchard', I believe. And I'm doing well, thank you. Yourself?" he led the way over to the couch as usual, because everything was completely normal, wasn't it?

[furnaceface]

Completely normal, except for that moment that Jono needed to take in order to wonder if perhaps Hannibal had been replaced with a pod person. A moment later his brain caught up, at least, and he was double-stepping in order to catch up.

//I, er, I'm not doing badly,// he replied. //Class seems to be going well, which is all I really wanted out of this week anyway.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal sat on the couch and waved Jono to join him. "How did your talk with Karla go?"

[furnaceface]

Jono's nose wrinkled at the question. Yeah, he supposed it had been pretty obvious, when they both slipped out from the party at the same time. Still, he shrugged out of his coat - even took a moment to properly hang it up, because apparently he was learning - and then sat down on the sofa next to Hannibal.

//There was far less yelling than I expected there to be,// he admitted. //I guess by taking off like I did, I sort of wound up leaving Morton to fend off Karla's wrath alone. I feel as though I should probably be more apologetic about that than I am.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Possibly," Hannibal answered. "But I'm not disappointed if it means you received less of her ire."

[furnaceface]

//The last thing I wanted or needed was an argument with Karla about my personal code of ethics versus my desire to see one of my closest friends not get brutally murdered and then sold as meat pies,// Jono agreed, glancing Hannibal's way. //Screw my bloody morals. I've got priorities. And I don't know how I would've reacted if she'd taken that yelling directly to me.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal put a hand on Jono's back. "There's nothing wrong with having personal morals that say certain acts are to be avoided unless a friend is in danger. There is also nothing wrong with changing your mind when confronted with unfortunate circumstances."

He shrugged. "You must decide for yourself if these are choices you would make again, and say, 'this is what I believe', or if you consider them mistakes you will do your best to avoid in future." He wasn't judging you harshly either way. "The important part is that you are the one making that decision."

[furnaceface]

Jono nodded a little, and then leaned back slightly against Hannibal's hand.

//It's an interesting side-effect of not always being certain just who it is I'm meant to be,// he noted. //Sometimes I do things that surprise me. Things that shouldn't come so bloody easily. I've gotten to a point where I almost find myself wondering if it's worth dwelling on where those urges came from, whether it's a carryover from the war, or from any one of the lifetimes I never actually lived. I've been exercising a level of ruthless pragmatism I never would've dreamed of, back before Weapon X had their way with me.//

There was a brief pause, and then he added, //That said, if Karla ends up pregnant again not a full day after a near-successful attempt on her life, I'm walking out of bloody Glacia and not looking back. I might kick Karla in the shin and burn Warren's balls off before I go.//

HE COULD BE SPITEFUL IF HE WANTED, AT THAT POINT.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Everything we do or experience changes us," Hannibal pointed out. "For all the trauma that your other lives have caused you, I would be surprised if they hadn't."

He rubbed Jono's back and poured the beer into his glass. "The first of that batch in your honor," he explained.

[furnaceface]

Jono watched Hannibal pour the beer, and then nodded his approval.

//Looking forward to it,// he decided. //And... it's not even necessarily a matter of other lives. The memories are, for the most part, all fabricated. But I still did things while believing that those lives were my own. Some of them didn't stick, but not everything got a magical reset button once I came to my senses. In fact, most of it didn't.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Would you like to tell me about it?" Hannibal asked. He took a slow and deliberate sip of the beer, savoring its flavor.

[furnaceface]

Jonothon's reply had to wait a moment. He needed to close his eyes and just appreciate the echo of the taste on Hannibal's tongue.

//I could. It's not exactly pleasant conversation. Definitely not fish and chips, really. There are two big ones to pick from. One left a fairly noticeable mark on my body, the other one's the one that did the worse number on my mind.// He shrugged. //Up to you, Hannibal. It's fairly heavy subject matter for a pleasant evening in, but maybe getting it off my chest would do some good. Most people just excuse it with a, 'but that wasn't you,' as though that makes it better somehow.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal thought about it. "If you think it would do good, I'd like to hear about it." He took another sip. "We can stop whenever you like."

[furnaceface]

Jono nodded a little. The number of people he'd really spoken to about Weapon X, he could count on the fingers of one hand. There were those who knew it had happened, who even knew the name of it, but a precious few could really say what it had been about.

//Well... then I suppose the question is whether I start with the one that came with a convenient reset button, or the one that left me needing to learn how to live with myself again.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Chronologically?" Hannibal suggested. "As best you're able. That will make it easier to put it in perspective."

[furnaceface]

//Ah.// Jono bunched his shoulders up a little, but he didn't protest. It made sense, after all. //Well... then that would start with the time the X-Men - have I told you much about the X-Men? - were getting reports of entire families of mutants being kidnapped right out of their bloody beds, and I, being young and stupid and thinking that apparently I was invincible or something, convinced the rest of the X-Men to let me try to infiltrate the government organization responsible for the disappearances. Alone.//

Anyone with half a brain in their head could probably figure out that this was going to backfire horribly, even with Logan's guidance, right?

[sharp_as_knives]

They could, yes. Then again, this was the X-Men.

"What made you decide to do that?" Hannibal asked. "Did you have a better chance than others?"

[furnaceface]

//I was the only one who stood a chance of getting in. Didn't give much thought to the getting out again bit. The exit strategy sort of began and ended with, 'when we take them down, it won't matter, really.'//

He wrinkled his nose.

//I was not the world's greatest strategist back then, really. I was sort of hoping that the rest of the team had my back. What with... being a team, and all.//

Enter Jonothon's trust issues.

[sharp_as_knives]

"And none of them thought to mention the lack of a plan to extract you from the situation?" Hannibal asked. "You may have been 'young and stupid', but I assume not all of them were."

[furnaceface]

//I was the team's junior member at the time. All of them have been around the block a time or two,// Jono confirmed. //Logan in particular had experience with Weapon X before. He was one of their earliest toys. The American government had been creating super soldiers since the '40s, and then the focus shifted from improving the capabilities of normal humans for use as soldiers to using and improving on mutants in order to exterminate mutants. The Program had been through a few iterations between Logan's time with them and mine, though.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal frowned. "And he didn't expect you'd have a problem leaving them?"

[furnaceface]

//He and I both knew it was a risk going in,// Jono explained. //And we knew I was going to have to do some nasty things in order to earn their trust. I think where it fell apart, in the end, was where we didn't spend enough time planning on me getting myself caught. If I was a part of the program willingly, and they believed I was loyal to it, there was no need for them to resort to their more... forceful methods of control.//

He spread his hands a little, staring down at them.

//Logan knows all about the horrors of the Program. But he's not exactly the X-Men's greatest strategist. And none of the others... really...// His brow furrowed. He didn't want to finish the thought. But. //... cared. I was the means to an end.//