Hannibal's house and elsewhere, Sunday afternoon

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal was checking his e-mail on his tablet as Jono read. He followed a few links, checked something else, raised an eyebrow, and excused himself, taking his tablet and phone with him. He had a glint in his eyes.

He came back a few minutes later smiling.

Comments

[sharp_as_knives]

"I was planning on it." Hannibal wrapped an arm around Jono. "As long here as you like, then perhaps dinner. Our return portal isn't until later this evening."

[furnaceface]

Jono nodded his head, snaking his own arm around Hannibal in turn. It was difficult to put a finger on what was was so entrancing about this place, about the seemingly random tones that washed up from the ground around them, but if he kept his eyes closed and just let himself drink it in, he could almost pretend that the rhythm of the sea was the heartbeat he didn't have, and the music was a voice that he sorely missed.

//Maybe after dinner, we can play,// he mused. //Theremin, perhaps. Or my guitar and your harpsichord... Something. A duet...//

He wanted to sing.

[sharp_as_knives]

"A duet," Hannibal agreed. He closed his eyes and just experienced the tidal music and the wind for a few moments himself. "With instruments for now." He rubbed Jono's side where they'd been working on growing the skin. "Only for now."

And in the meantime, there was music in the sea. There was always music, everywhere.

[furnaceface]

//Only for now.//

[sharp_as_knives]

They sat there for some time, mostly quiet, enjoying the sound and the peace. As the sun set, Hannibal stirred and nudged Jono, bringing his attention to the side, where a circular area started lighting up in patterns. "The Greeting to the Sun," he murmured in explanation.

[furnaceface]

//To the sun?// Jono glanced toward it thoughtfully. //After the sunset? Seems like a backwards time to say hello, isn't it?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Perhaps," Hannibal agreed. "But the cells are solar powered." The light patterns changed, complementing the organ notes in swirls and lines.

[furnaceface]

//Solar...// Jono sat in silence, watching the patterns form to complement the music. //So, in a sense, it's the sun itself, continuing to shine even after it's set.//

There was a pause, and then he was shaking his head, looking amused.

//Bloody hell, look at what you've got me doing. I'll be reciting poetry myself, at this rate.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Nothing wrong with poetry," Hannibal answered, smirking. "And it's difficult not to be poetic - the sun, the sea, and the wind are all playing music for us."

[furnaceface]

//Nah, I suppose not,// Jono agreed. //I never really was the terribly poetic type, though.//

Lies. Lies, Jono.

[sharp_as_knives]

"No?" Hannibal's smirk widened a bit. "In that case, should I apologize for bringing you to a place that inspires it?"

[furnaceface]

//Well, that really depends on how you intend to apologize,// Jono teased, raising an eyebrow and reaching for Hannibal's hand. //For all I know, it might involve more poetry, and then where'll I be, hm?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Listening to poetry," Hannibal answered. "Probably in several languages." Or possibly only in your mind, he thought. He cocked his head for a moment, then took in the lights and sounds and recalled them in detail, rearranging them into more structured music in his thoughts.

[furnaceface]

//Only you, Hannibal...// There was warmth in that statement, a sort of mild tingle of approval as the lights and the noises danced around in Jonothon's mind. He contemplated the arrangement, and then, in a shared mindscape, held out his hand to Hannibal, a smile toying at his lips. //Had to take something poetic and make it into a masterpiece, didn't you?//

[sharp_as_knives]

One of my favorite pastimes. Music, life, food - he did his best to make the poetic masterful. Or the banal poetic. Care to join me? He threaded some remembered notes into the ones currently playing, ending mid-phrase and drawing it out as he waited.

[furnaceface]

//Of course,// Jono replied, taking a step forward in that mindscape they were threading together, a light and a note to punctuate that step rising up and sweeping around them both. In the distance, the music that was rising up all around them played a quiet harmony to Hannibal's melody.

Jono smiled some more, flames flickering up over blue-tinted skin.

//Always wanted my own light show.//

A line of green. A swirl of blue. A breath, a heartbeat, a splash of red.

[sharp_as_knives]

A raised mental eyebrow was Hannibal's answer to that. Along with a swirl of light that resembled flame and a low rumble of harmonics.

[furnaceface]

And Jono met all of that with an easy laugh, one that called up shades of violet that rose and fell with his laughter, that pulsed in and away with the ocean's breath.

//Showoff,// he accused, licking his lips and tilting his head back a little as he took in the sound of the music again. //And here I thought flame was my territory.//

[sharp_as_knives]

That being my point, Hannibal said, amused. Your own light show?

[furnaceface]

//You're not going to tell me that I'm meant to be my own light show, are you?// There was only wry amusement in Jonothon's tone at that, fire ghosting across his face, over his chest, which was, for the moment, whole in their minds' eyes. //Since when was that how it worked, Hannibal?//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal shrugged. Why not? Your flames are under your control, and have a range of colors. I'm certain you could be a light show if you wanted to. The only question is if you do want to.

He wasn't judging either way; there were probably more important or interesting things Jono could focus on, but art was a worthy goal in itself.

[furnaceface]

Pale skin, glowing eyes. A flash of a hollow torso, as Jono tilted his head thoughtfully.

//I did use my fire to perform for somebody's entertainment once,// he mused, that wry note still not quite leaving his voice. //She told every tabloid in the UK some nonsense story about how she was going to be the mother of my freak mutie spawn and left me in a gutter in a back alley, thanking me for furthering her career. Never really thought of my powers as having a potential for art before then. Never really bothered, since. Seemed more trouble than it was worth, being half superstar, half freak show curiosity turned publicity stunt.//

A beat.

//Didn't even really like her music all that much.//

Ugh, bubblegum.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal didn't bother to suppress the flash of cold anger and fierce protectiveness at that. Regardless of her, or of anybody else - did you enjoy it for itself?

[furnaceface]

//Some, I suppose,// Jono allowed. //There's a certain sort of freedom in just letting go, especially with powers like mine. Even now, I put more focus into holding them in than I let on.//

A wave of flame, scarlet, then yellow, then blue, twisting around the both of them as the music coalesced into something louder.

//It's bloody exhausting, sometimes. It felt good to light up the sky, to not bloody care, for once.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal watched the flames, then let just a bit of the outside light show join them, along with the sounds of the sea and the organ. I would like to see that sometime. Would you be up for a private performance?