Hannibal's house, Sunday morning

[sharp_as_knives]

Jono had slept straight through the night - a miracle Hannibal was perfectly ready to take credit for. He wasn't likely to sleep much longer, though, so Hannibal was headed back upstairs with the simple omelette he'd made for breakfast and a good-sized carafe of coffee.

[OOC: For the well-rested guy!]

Comments

[sharp_as_knives]

It was, really. Unless it served some other purpose.

I didn't ask about the blue, Hannibal said. But you certainly hadn't disappeared.

He set about putting together a pack of food. Was he being a brat by not saying more than that?

This was Hannibal. Of course he was.

[furnaceface]

//I... hadn't?//

Please, ignore that little glimmer of warm-fuzzy that went along with that. Jono wasn't a big softie. Really.

//Well, good. Honestly, I really have no reason to pull a stunt like that anyway.//

Another pause while Jono stepped into the shower, and then he added, //... Did whoever you were talking to say anything else?//

HE HAD TO KNOW.

[sharp_as_knives]

Apparently you have an abundance of workout equipment? Hannibal answered. That was what he wanted to know, wasn't it?

[furnaceface]

//So I've made myself right at home,// Jono deduced, reaching for the soap. //Sounds about right.//

A beat.

//Why is the workout equipment particularly noteworthy?//

[sharp_as_knives]

Mostly because when faced with a former student with an abundance of aggressive energy, your response is to loan them that equipment. Hannibal smirked and did his best to send his amusement with his words. Mine is to make them cook.

[furnaceface]

//It seems fitting enough to me,// Jono decided as he lathered up. //I make them hit things, you make them... either chop them or light them on fire. Beat them, I suppose. Which brings us back around to hitting things again. And this is, in retrospect, probably why I should never be allowed to do things in your kitchen.//

Good call, Jon.

[sharp_as_knives]

And I thought it was because you were liable to drown it all in grease, Hannibal answered. He set his pack by the door and headed back upstairs.

[furnaceface]

//Not all in grease,// Jono countered, mock-hurt. //I might mix it up from time to time and use gravy, instead.//

[sharp_as_knives]

I stand corrected. Hannibal took out his leathers and a sturdy shirt and set them on the bed. Then he took the shirt Jono had chosen and put it back, pulling out one that went better with his.

"Sparkle came to visit." He lounged in the bathroom doorway and answered the question Jono hadn't asked. "Apparently some years back, he had a rough patch. He came to us, and took advantage of your equipment and my kitchen."

[furnaceface]

Jono was getting used to that, at least. He'd get to the point eventually where he wouldn't even be remotely surprised if he were to peer into the closet to find that all of his clothing had been mysteriously replaced with clothes that conveniently matched everything of Hannibal's, ever.

//Ah, well... sorry to hear he had troubles,// he offered, rinsing off, now. //Glad he had somewhere t'go, though. And I suppose I might as well give blanket permission now, if anybody shows up needing to blow off steam, for people to use my workout equipment, just so long as they don't do anything stupid with it.//

[sharp_as_knives]

It did help that most of Jono's clothing was black. Even if it occasionally made Hannibal shake his head over it.

"I'll refrain from offering the same for my kitchen," Hannibal said. "Although Sparkle is welcome, as are you." Because they knew how he cared about it. "Karla is not." She knew, too, but he wasn't about to chance her skills in the room.

[furnaceface]

//Yes, but Karla is generally unwelcome in any kitchen,// Jono pointed out. //Unless it's to stand in the doorway an observe somebody at work who knows how to make food without burning th'whole building down.//

This was how he expressed that he cared about his friends, right here. Both for Karla's sake and theirs.

//Maybe the kitchen of somebody I really hate...//

[sharp_as_knives]

"One of these days, I plan to present her with a simple recipe and watch her cook it. I can't imagine why it is she seems to fail so spectacularly." He gave Jono a wry grin. "But I won't be doing it in my kitchen."

[furnaceface]

//I'd offer up mine, but Rinoa and Squall still live there and happen to use it from time to time. Probably.//

... Jono really hadn't been big on mealtime with the flatmates, no.

//Danger shop it'll have to be, then.//

And then he was shutting the water off and peering out to make a reach for a towel.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal took one off the rack and handed it to him. "We wouldn't want to demolish the music store anyway," he pointed out. "The Danger Shop is probably the safest option, if we can get a bit of time in it outside of classes."

[furnaceface]

//That should be easily enough accomplished. The only people who can book the room outside of classes are faculty, after all.//

...

//So, you. Since I'm not, currently, I suppose.//

Which was weird to think about. He was kind of attached to his role as a teacher, in retrospect.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Would you like to teach a class together again next term?" Hannibal asked. "I had a thought for one you might enjoy."

[furnaceface]

//Well, I can hardly say yes or no unless I know what your idea was,// Jono pointed out as he toweled himself off. //You've caught my interest, though. What'd you have in mind?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"I thought we could teach them flower arranging," Hannibal answered deadpan as he shucked his robe and changed places for his own shower.

[furnaceface]

//Oh, good. That's definitely one of my specialties, right there,// Jono countered, equally deadpan as he reached for his wrappings. //I have such strong opinions about baby's breath, after all.//

It was definitely a flower.

[sharp_as_knives]

"You can teach Western style while I cover ikebana," Hannibal said. "What do you think?"

[furnaceface]

//You know, you've almost sold me on the idea,// Jono decided as he started to wrap his face. //But what are your thoughts about decorative grasses?//

He would need to know, so that he could quote Hannibal verbatim if he was ever asked.

[sharp_as_knives]

"It depends what you're using them for." Hannibal paused to rinse his hair. "Actually, I was thinking of something involving traveling, art, music...and perhaps flower arranging," he added with a chuckle, "if one of the students is interested, though neither of us would have to teach it."

[furnaceface]

//We wouldn't? Oh, thank god. It'd be a disaster if I had t'do it.//

Well, it would.

//Travel and art, though... Anything like the live entertainment class I once taught, or am I completely missing the mark?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Similar," Hannibal answered. Mostly in that it would be largely an excuse to go out and have fun weekly. "We could visit museums, parks, shows, a variety of places, in the interest of inspiring the students to create their own art. Painting, music, dance, writing - whatever they're moved to."

He finished rinsing and turned the shower off, opening the door to look out. "What do you think?"