Hannibal's house, Monday

[sharp_as_knives]

Apparently, as misguided as Squall's birthday gift to him had been, Rinoa's was worse - whatever it was that had laid her low had been duly passed on, and Hannibal found himself miserably sick. Really, some things weren't fair.

He was currently in a very warm bed, with a very warm cat (who didn't seem to care he could barely breathe) on his feet, a tablet in his hands, and plenty of warm tea and cold medicine inside him. He was debating the benefits of cooking something versus going back to sleep versus engaging in a bit of scathing criticism of some of the idiots on the APA message boards.

A sick Hannibal was a bored Hannibal.


[OOC: I wanna be at home in bed with cats. I can't be, so he is. Open post!]

Comments

[furnaceface]

Didn't take much for Jono to figure out that Rinoa's cold had been passed right along to Friday's birthday boy, really. He'd been half-tempted to catch Hannibal on his way out of the classroom today, to talk about the terms of their betting and just generally be a pest, but then Hannibal hadn't shown up to class at all.

Clearly, this meant that he had to pay him a visit, make certain that he had a wealth of tissues and such, and see if there was anything else he could help out with while Hannibal suffered.

//Knock knock? You alive in there?//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal rubbed his eyes and smiled slightly as he set the tablet aside, then did his best to think back, Possibly.

[furnaceface]

There was a brief pause while Jono re-calibrated his brain to pick up on Hannibal's thinking, before he replied again, //Well, let's do what we can to make certain that much sticks, hm? Mind if I let myself in? Brought tissues along, and I'm not afraid to run errands if there's anything you'd like me to pick up.//

Jono had never really taken inventory of Hannibal's medicine cabinet. Or fridge.

... Which was probably for the best.

[sharp_as_knives]

Very probably, yes.

Nevertheless, Hannibal was thinking back, Can you pick locks? Please don't damage my door.

You were getting quite a bit of amusement with that, along with a bit of curiosity. Hannibal could pick locks, but he needed lockpicks or something of the sort. Maybe you didn't, Jono?

[furnaceface]

//I can, actually. I usually have something in my pocket for that, these days. Don't worry, your door'll be safe.//

What? Hannibal didn't think he'd be picking that with his face, did he? Because while blowing a doorknob off with his powers was the simplest way to get into a place, it was no good back in Glacia if he was actively trying to conceal who had been the one doing the breaking in.

//I'll be up in... just... a-- there. In a moment. Anything you'd like me to bring on the way?//

[sharp_as_knives]

Jono should learn more fine control, then. Imagine picking locks and leaving no marks!

Hannibal looked around at what he already had. If you could start some water for tea, please.

[furnaceface]

//Will do,// Jono replied, making his way to the kitchen. //You keep your tea where?//

Yeah, those were 'lost person in the kitchen' sounds, coming from downstairs. For as often as Jono had been over, and been in that kitchen, actually knowing his way around had never been a priority before.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal thought loudly and precisely about the cabinet and shelf and which tea he wanted (herbal and spicy). The kettle was on the stove and the pot was in the dishwasher.

[furnaceface]

Kettle, stove, pot-- dishwasher! And the tea was...

Okay, Jono had this all figured out. He sent Hannibal a little 'got it,' and a sort of idle and meandering 'anything else?' to go with it before he filled the kettle with water, put it on to boil, and put the tea into the teapot.

It was sort of surreal, being in a kitchen preparing anything but Karla's steak and potatoes. Not in an unpleasant way. Just a different one.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal wasn't exactly sanguine about it all, either. If anybody else was in his kitchen without him...well, he was repressing the urge to rush down there and do it himself.

Instead, he sent an image of where the honey was and exactly how much the pot got, and the location of the (fresh, organic) lemons in the refrigerator and the reamer in the drawer and how much of that it got.

Since Jono had asked.

[furnaceface]

So he had. And, while Jono's answering confirmation that he'd taken note of all of that seemed a little on the bemused side, he was following Hannibal's instructions to the letter all the same.

He was thankful Hannibal had told him where to find the lemons in the fridge. He was fairly certain he'd get lost in there otherwise, and he had no idea what half of the things in there even were.

Another few minutes later, he was staring down at what he was mostly certain was a prepared pot of tea, and then, tentatively, asking, //... Anything else?//

[sharp_as_knives]

Jono might get just a hint of the immediate did you clean everything up? before Hannibal quashed it in favor of No, thank you.

He was trying to be good; Jono was doing him a favor. But some people had beloved guitars, and some had custom kitchens.

[furnaceface]

Jono caught that hint, and gave a quick glance around. Kettle was still on the stove, the pot was full of tea, there was a spoon that had been used for the honey, and then the lemon rind and the knife he'd cut it with and so on...

//Everything's in the dishwasher that needs to be cleaned,// he reported. //If that's not how it goes, I'll come back down and wash them in the sink, once I've brought you your tea.//

Cold tea didn't do anybody any good, after all.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal sent him a brief thank you, annoyed at himself for the slip. He pulled one of the pillows from behind him to give Jono one to lean on if he wanted, straightened his pajamas and the covers over himself, got a grumpy huff from Beethoven for all the movement, and poured the last of his current batch of tea from the thermos to his mug.

This was as presentable for company as he was getting at the moment.

[furnaceface]

Jono really didn't expect Hannibal to be shaved and showered for him, considering he was sick, and this was a surprise visit. He made his way up with the tea, and a few moments later he was standing in the doorway, looking slightly amused by the setup.

//Trapped, I see.//

Cats. Jono knew that sort of trapped quite well.

//Wasn't sure if you had a mug or not, so I brought one just in case. Apparently I didn't need to?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"No, unless you want some tea," Hannibal agreed, his voice a bit hoarser than usual. He waved Jono to sit. "You can pour it into here," he said, tapping the thermal carafe on the lid.

[furnaceface]

Jono peered skeptically at the mug in his hand for a moment before shrugging and setting it down on the nightstand and taking a seat.

//I think you might need this tea more than I do,// he noted, wryly, as he poured the tea as instructed. //My voice doesn't sound half as bad as yours does right now.//

Imagine that.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal laughed at that, then started coughing. "Your voice," he said when he could, "doesn't require air." He took a slightly deep breath, and nodded in satisfaction when he didn't start coughing again. "Thank you," he added, nodding at the tea.

[furnaceface]

//Not these days it doesn't,// Jono agreed, //and I don't miss the witchblood lung days, either. But at least it means I can sympathize.//

He gave his shoulders a shrug.

//It wasn't any trouble, at any rate. Just figured I'd stop by to check up on you. Make certain you were properly medicated and appropriately sat on, that sort of thing.//

He glanced down at Beethoven.

//Things seem to be more or less in order, here.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"So if he weren't sitting on me, you would be?" Hannibal asked. "I doubt that would help my breathing. How did you know I was ill? Radio can't have reported it yet."

[furnaceface]

//The squirrels are good, but not that good,// Jono agreed. //I was going to grab you on your way out of class, see if you were feeling up to sorting out the terms of our bets, but you weren't there. Your TA let me know what was going on from there. Kind of cute, the way the lad made me promise to check up on you.//

As if Jono hadn't already been planning to once he found out Hannibal was under the weather.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smiled. "I will have to thank him." He finished his tea, poured a bit from the new batch, and nodded in approval as he sipped. Slightly off of his usual proportions, but well within acceptable.

"Had I been teaching anything else, I might have gone regardless," he said, "and merely kept a good distance from the students. But cooking? No."

[furnaceface]

//I can't imagine any of them would be thrilled to pick this up from you,// Jono agreed. //Looks like a miserable cold you and Rinoa've picked up. She's got Squall to run errands for her, at least. If there's anything you need until you get better, don't hesitate to ask, alright?//

Because he wasn't whole unless he was helpful. Or something like that, anyway.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Thank you." Hannibal smiled. "A bit of company wouldn't go amiss, if you're not busy."

[furnaceface]

//Not busy at all,// Jono replied easily. //I've got nowhere to be until Friday when I teach, here's as good a place to be as any. I can't imagine you handle boredom any better than I do, do you?//

Well. Hannibal was probably at least less prone to self-flagellation than Jono was.