Hannibal's house, Thursday evening

[sharp_as_knives]

After dinner, Hannibal headed to his study. He'd opened the mail earlier, and now had a proper plaque that he'd have to hang up tomorrow - Dr Hannibal Lecter, Doctor of Psychiatric Medicine, Psy. D., M.D..

Given this past weekend, and the dreams that no doubt had been prompted in part by it, he'd been feeling a bit restless lately. And even if he hadn't, it really was time to get back to work.

Comments

[furnaceface]

Jono had spent most of the day out and about. Swinging by the woods had been a pleasant outing, and he hadn't really been in any great hurry to get back inside after he'd... gone rock-petting, mostly. So he'd done some training out in the preserve. It brought back a weird sort of nostalgia. After all, they'd trained in a grotto back when he was a student at the Massachusetts Academy.

How it was evening, and his options for the night were... slim. Ish. He could go back home and poke through his records. Maybe get some paperwork done at that music shop he'd been neglecting somewhat since Didi's letter had been stolen right out of his pocket. Or...

//Knock knock.// Not that he was knocking. He had an open invitation and a key, he was wandering on in. //Anybody home?//

The desire for company had won out.

[sharp_as_knives]

"In the study," Hannibal called out, a warm hello in his thoughts. "How are you this evening?"

[furnaceface]

//Mellow, I think,// Jono mused as he made his way toward the study. //Kept myself active today, and I feel all the better for it. Exercise is good for that sort of thing. I'd almost forgotten, what with all of that winter.//

No, he hadn't. But that whole thing with Gaunt hadn't helped, anyway.

[sharp_as_knives]

"If this is another attempt at repurposing a portion of my house..." Hannibal teased.

[furnaceface]

//It isn't, but if you're telling me you're morally opposed to getting a sauna in here on my dime...//

Jono could tease right back!

[sharp_as_knives]

"I'm more worried about what you might have planned for the room downstairs." The formerly-known-as-a-billiards-cum-storage room.

He turned the plaque toward Jono. "What do you think?" It was a fairly classic brass plate with simple, elegant lettering and a slightly more daring border.

[furnaceface]

//Oh, your billiards room is safe, mate,// Jono replied, amused. //And that... is fancy.//

It was definitely a plaque! Had words on it and everything.

//It'll look right at home in... your... office?//

Wild but educated guess, there.

[sharp_as_knives]

"It's for the gate," Hannibal corrected. "If I'm opening a practice, people must be able to find me." He shook his head. "Not that it would be difficult, here, but it's tradition. Hanging out a shingle."

[furnaceface]

//Ah, shingle, of course,// Jono agreed, running a hand through his hair and feeling a bit silly. //Th'phrase had to come from somewhere. Sorry, I've been a bit distracted, this week.//

A tiiiny bit. A smidgen.

//Er, not in a bad way, this time.//

That felt important to specify.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal nodded; he'd noticed it a bit, but since it hadn't seemed a problem, he was willing to wait. Now he set the plaque down and sat on the corner of his desk, reaching for Jono's hand. "Would you like to talk about it?"

[furnaceface]

//Dreams,// Jono explained, squeezing Hannibal's hand a little. //Not bad ones. Rather lovely ones, actually. So something must be up.//

It was sad that this was how Jono figured things like this out, really.

[sharp_as_knives]

"You're not allowed to have lovely dreams on your own?" Not that Hannibal necessarily doubted Jono's assessment, but still.

[furnaceface]

//Of course I'm allowed to,// Jono shrugged. //But I haven't. Not so many in a row like that. Not for years, now. So either something is up, or I've miraculously been cured of a nightmare streak that's been plaguing me since high school.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"While I would love to assume the latter and take credit for it," Hannibal said, smirking, "I imagine you're right; that is quite a sudden change. You think the island is up to something?"

[furnaceface]

//When is it not?//

And for a moment, Jono was tempted to tell him, to mention the stone and the dead people, how he got to see his great-granddad again after so many years, once. How this week, his dreams had been about somebody else.

He refrained. If there had ever been somebody that Hannibal had in his life worth dreaming about, Jono really didn't want to get his hopes up, just in case he was wrong.

//Whatever it is, it's sure to be interesting, at least.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal gave him a curious look; he clearly knew more than he was saying. "But you don't think it's a bad thing."

[furnaceface]

//Not this time,// Jono agreed. //The island is still trying to make up for its last round of nightmarish horror, I think it'll take it easy on us for a while.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"That would be welcome." Hannibal nodded at the plaque. "As much as I'd love to get back to work, I'd rather not have a line out the door every day due to island-related trauma."

[furnaceface]

//Those would make for some tiring work days. I suppose, if nothing else, you'd at least be more than qualified to assist people with their trauma, considering the island is a big fan of sharing the love with everybody around.//

Trauma for you, and for you, and for you...

[sharp_as_knives]

Everybody gets trauma!

"Hence my opening practice here rather than in another Baltimore," Hannibal answered wryly. "It should prove interesting if nothing else."

[furnaceface]

//And really, if anybody needs a good psychiatrist, it's definitely Fandom's locals. I don't think we have any here, otherwise.//

Small islands were a bit like that, weren't they?