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]

//... You think I'll somehow look less ridiculous, walking around with a basket?//

That seemed like a thing that Jono would never do.

//I might as well invest in one of those oversized purses that ladies carry chihuahuas around in.//

Ugh.

[sharp_as_knives]

"That would also work," Hannibal agreed. "Or you could get her a harness and leash."

[furnaceface]

//Oh, no. Joni and I have danced the harness dance before,// Jono replied, shaking his head. //If you were impressed by her acrobatics when I put her into the sweater, you should've seen her with the harness. I bloody swear to god she turned herself inside-out to escape that thing.//

Cats.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal shook his head. "Well, we'll simply have to hope she's content with being held. Or perhaps I can be convinced to find you coats with decent pockets."

[furnaceface]

//You wouldn't want a cat to suffer just because I lost a game of 8-ball, would you? She's less likely to squirm free and take off if she's in her pocket, after all.//

Not that Jono couldn't just catch her again. And while he'd never exactly tried using his powers to mind-control a cat, he suspected it would be hilariously simple to coax her into turning around and getting out of the way of rickshaws.

//It's safer for her.//

Or he could get a proper cat carrier, like normal people do.

[sharp_as_knives]

It was probably notable that Hannibal hadn't suggested a carrier, either.

"We can leave your coat hung up for her, since you won't be wearing it."

[furnaceface]

//... I'm going to miss that coat. But Joni ought to be happy. She won't have to share for a while.//

But really, he was going to miss that coat.

//What will you have me wearing, anyway?//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smirked. "I should leave you guessing. We'll have to decide when to do it, though, and what you're doing. I wouldn't want to put you in formalwear if you're planning on digging ditches all day."

An extreme example, yes, but he didn't want to give too much away by getting specific.

[furnaceface]

//I haven't done much of that since the war,// Jono replied, vaguely amused. //Odds are, I won't be doing much more than standing at the front of a classroom or watching the music shop. There might be some footwork in Glacia to be done, though. Depends on what's going on back there at the time.//

You know. On who was being murdered that week or whatever.

[sharp_as_knives]

Oh, but that presented all kinds of opportunities! Hannibal could color-coordinate Jono to the murder scenes!

"Regardless," he answered, "Proper dressing includes tailoring your clothes to the situation as well as to your body. Though I imagine I'll put you largely in nicer clothing than you would wear yourself. You might even come to like some of it."

How were those pricey boots, Jono?

[furnaceface]

Jono adored them. Grudgingly, on principle.

//I might. Who knows, I might end up surprised yet,// Jono allowed. //Stranger has happened before.//

Probably. At some point or other.

//S'gonna make seeing you in that band t-shirt that much sweeter, though.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal gave him a dirty look. "Perhaps for that remark I'll put you in nothing at all one day."

[furnaceface]

//So long as it isn't a Friday, you're welcome to leave me in the nude any day you please,// Jono replied, because apparently he had somehow forgotten in the last thirty seconds that Hannibal was incorrigible even when he wasn't sick and being difficult on purpose. //That'll keep things interesting, I suppose.//

It would give him all the more reason to work out that telepathy of his some more. 'Nothing to see here, move along.'

[sharp_as_knives]

'It might," Hannibal allowed. "You could do the shopping."

[furnaceface]

//... You're really quite serious about getting me to use the internet more, aren't you?//

It was February out there! He'd freeze his bloody knob off!

[sharp_as_knives]

"Is that what it takes?" Hannibal grinned, now seriously considering it.

Your knob would be fine, Jono. You could always reform it.

[furnaceface]

//Might be,// Jono replied, //though I have to point out that the things I shop for and the things you shop for are rather quite different...//

Jono sincerely doubted that Hannibal would trust him with buying produce even if Jono did eat food, anyway.

[sharp_as_knives]

Well, probably not. ...Maybe meat?

Hannibal shrugged. "You can do your own shopping. How you do it is up to you."

[furnaceface]

//... Home on the internet in the nude it is, then.//

A beat.

//Might have to get you to greet the delivery person, though. Can't imagine that'd end well for anybody involved.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smirked. "I'm sure Ms. Éponine would enjoy the show."

[furnaceface]

Oh, don't encourage him, Hannibal.

//Ah, it's a show now, is it? Should I answer the door while striking poses for the next few weeks while I'm at it?//

You could tell he was in a decent mood by the way he wasn't making snarky commentary about how she was probably just as likely to try to put him out.

[sharp_as_knives]

"If you like," Hannibal answered. "I'm not controlling how you answer the door."

[furnaceface]

//Aside from the 'naked' bit,// Jono pointed out, amused. //How's your tea?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Only the clothes, not the manner." Hannibal took another sip. "It's fine, thank you." And even in full-out brat mode, he felt obliged to add, "I suspected you'd know how to make a proper pot." Anyone else would have gotten detailed instructions, Jono.

[furnaceface]

... The instructions that Hannibal had sent weren't detailed?

Jono would hate to think what that would involve.

//I'd make some quip about being properly British, but I never really did care for tea while I was still living in London,// he mused. //Developed more of an appreciation for it during the war, and after it.//

While nursing witchblood burns down his throat, and all.