Hannibal's house, Monday
Feb. 2nd, 2015 01:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sharp_as_knivesApparently, 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!]
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!]
