Hannibal's house, Saturday

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal was learning that while Jono as a snake might have more of an excuse to burrow under the covers, Jono as a human was no more eager to get out of bed when he was warm and comfortable. And bribing him with food didn't work quite as well this way.

Beethoven, however, had different priorities, and Hannibal himself needed to eat as well, so he gave up, left Jono in bed curled up with his tablet, and went down to cook. He hadn't yet decided if he'd be nice and bring a tray up, or if he'd make Jono stretch himself if he wanted to share.


[OOC: Expecting the one who's already in the house, but open for whatever!]

Comments

[furnaceface]

Well, it wasn't as though the floorboards between them were going to give Jono much trouble. And it was hard enough getting the guy into bed in the first place, now Hannibal wanted him out of it again? It was like the man couldn't make up his mind!

Still, it wasn't too long before he reached out questioningly with his senses, sending a little nudge of an inquiry along.

//You aren't coming back up, are you?//

It was winter outside of the bed, dammit. Jono didn't want to have to get up yet!

[sharp_as_knives]

You got in the bed at night, Jono, and out in the morning. That was how beds worked.

Hannibal plated his eggs and sausage nicely, then sipped his coffee. He thought back, I haven't decided yet. If it felt a bit bratty, Jono was probably just projecting.

[furnaceface]

Well, Jono couldn't read narrative, so he was going to interpret that as just a bit bratty anyway. And then he was going to send back a grumble in turn. And then he was going to commandeer one of the bedsheets, because if he couldn't stay in bed, he was going to bloody well take some of the bed with him.

It wasn't like he was going to get breakfast on it. And he'd make the bed himself once his toes warmed up again.

//It's cold out there,// he groused, sitting up and grudgingly putting his feet on the floor. //How is anyone expected to be even the least bit functional when outside it's so... February?//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal's answer was a picture - of the high-tech electronic thermostat, which was currently set to 60. It wasn't that cold in the house, Jono.

[furnaceface]

DON'T YOU USE LOGIC AT HIM, HANNIBAL LECTER.

Jono was going to just send a pointed image right back, of him all curled up under a blanket, with the added heat from his chest keeping everything all exceptionally cozy in there. Why would anyone ever want to leave that? Wasn't the outside air inferior to the comforts of the under-the-blanket place?

Of course, that was said while he made his way down the stairs, bundled up stubbornly in the blanket he'd commandeered, so maybe some of that context was lost. A little.

//It's hardly fair. Why does life have to exist outside of bed?//

Good luck getting him in bed again tonight at a normal-person-bedtime, though.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Because some things are difficult to do without setting beds on fire," Hannibal called, as he heard Jono coming down. He moved his plate to the dining room and brought the coffee and condiments in.

[furnaceface]

//Oh, I don't know about that. I manage to do plenty without setting the bed on fire. You'd think I'd have more trouble with that.//

He shimmied into the dining room and flopped down into the nearest seat.

//... Granted, I used to.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Yes, well -" Hannibal stopped short as he sat and looked up. "Were your clothes too difficult?"

[furnaceface]

//Those involved effort.//

Before noon, Jono didn't do 'effort.'

//I'm not spilling fire out everywhere, that's something, at least.//

Because he'd fallen asleep with his wrappings on. Because that.

[sharp_as_knives]

"My dinner table thanks you," Hannibal answered. He shook his head. "I have another robe, if you'd prefer. Something less likely to trip you up."

[furnaceface]

//Wouldn't damage your dinner table even if I was,// Jono muttered, maybe just a touch sulkily. //But I can put on a robe if this bothers you.//

It was just so warm! Why did Hannibal not believe in warm?

[sharp_as_knives]

"I'm not dictating your clothing yet," Hannibal said. "Wear what you like." He ate a bit of sausage, sharing the taste. "I apologize if you took that as a slight to your ability to control yourself. I did not intend it as such."

[furnaceface]

Jono's eyes closed in appreciation, even as his brow furrowed a little at the apology.

//It was a manners thing, then, wasn't it?// He had to be sure, had to have that clarification, otherwise it was going to just gnaw at him. //The whole, 'at least try to put on clothing to sit at the table' thing. Of course you didn't mean my self-control specifically. You put your hand in it from time to time...//

Yeah, now Jono was kicking himself for taking it as a slight, and kind of regretting being out of bed if he was already putting his foot in it like this.

[sharp_as_knives]

"So far as I'm aware, there is no manners guide that covers how a guest on fire should approach the table. It would therefore fall to the host to dictate such things." He gave Jono a serious look. "And so far as I'm concerned, you're welcome at my table with or without your wrappings, and any guest who would say otherwise isn't welcome."

Hannibal took another bite and a sip of coffee. "No, I meant it as a comment not to set fire to the table. I was, however, not remotely serious. Again, my apologies that it seemed I was." He smirked. "I clearly shouldn't try subtle humor on you early in the morning."

[furnaceface]

//Ugh, no, no subtle humour at this hour of the day.// Jono glanced toward the clock. //... No subtle humour before I've gotten so far as to achieve clothing, at least.//

Which might not be for another few hours, yet.

//Though it might be... a good idea to avoid 'lighting things on fire' jokes with me in general. I spent a lot of my life learning as much control as I have now. It still tends to rub the wrong way.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"I will avoid them in future," Hannibal assured him. "I thought your fire wasn't actually flame; I hadn't realized it was an actual possibility."

[furnaceface]

//A bomb isn't actually flame until you set it off, either. Doesn't mean you don't have to be bloody careful with it until you do.// Jono shrugged his shoulders, unconsciously burrowing a little deeper into the blanket. //But you had no way of knowing, and I don't exactly talk about 'that time I blew up the entire dormitory building because some girl kissed me,' and other such things terribly often. Those things aren't exactly my proudest moments.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smiled. "I can see how it would be a touchy subject. There is still so much about your powers I don't know. And some things, no doubt, that are so innate it wouldn't occur to you that they need to be told." Hannibal shook his head and flicked one hand dismissively. "I wish that I had better insight into what it is you're experiencing."

[furnaceface]

It took Jono a moment before he became fully cognizant of what the hell had just happened, here. One moment, Hannibal was sitting nearby, eating breakfast. A second later, and Jonothon found himself blinking, hand rising up to check the bandages around his face. There was fire in his line of vision, and that almost always meant himself.

Only, it wasn't. And there hadn't been an explosion to herald what had just happened either. It was more that part of Hannibal had just... drifted away like so much ash.

Once it did click, though, Jonothon was dropping the chair (and the blanket) as he shot to his feet and made his way over to Hannibal to offer him... a hand? To make certain he wasn't just seeing things? He wasn't certain what. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. He'd worry about how later.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal didn't know what was happening, either! He'd just been sitting there, and then it was as if the entire world had twisted, and he was dizzy and cold and light and... //??//

Jono would have to forgive him if it took him a moment to get his thoughts together. He had to filter out all the others, first.

[furnaceface]

Jono froze mid-step. He couldn't help it. There was just something about hearing Hannibal's mind projected back to himself so clearly, instead of having to listen himself, that made him stumble. That's what it felt like when he spoke?

Why was this happening?

//Easy, mate...//

Again, those were questions to ask in a minute. For now, while Jono had a twisting, uneasy feeling somewhere deep down in the guts he didn't have, he could at least pull it together enough to offer Hannibal a hand, both physically and psionically. Here, sit, relax, silence...?

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal...well, his instinct was to take a deep breath, but that didn't seem to be possible. Well, not mostly. He heard Jono's voice and grabbed it firmly, assessed the difference in the feel from his own thoughts, and...oh. Oh.. He closed his eyes for a moment, centering himself, and nodded, letting Jono help him sit.

What had - well, no, it was fairly obvious what had happened. //How?// he asked Jono, wide-eyed.

[furnaceface]

//I don't know,// Jono replied, shaking his head a little. He wasn't wide-eyed so much as he was worried, eyes not leaving Hannibal's face for a moment. //One moment, everything was normal, and then...//

His brow furrowed a little.

//... then you wished that you understood me better.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal frowned and sent a burst of rueful and incredulous laughter. It was getting easier to settle into this as he got used to it. //I suspect the island has a rotten sense of humor.// This had better only be temporary; he had skills that would go terribly to waste otherwise. //I wish I knew what it was up to this time.//

He blinked.

[furnaceface]

Blink?

Why with the blinking now?

Jono was blinking back. Not for the same reason, mind. More because he had no idea what in the world Hannibal's blinking was about.

//Er?//