Hannibal (or someone's) house, Saturday morning

[sharp_as_knives]

Tristan stirred and his subconscious registered a soft surface under him. He woke, his hand going to his knife, but there didn't seem to be any immediate danger. He was in a very soft...bed?

He frowned. It was warm, and soft, and there was firelight at his back, but where was he?

Comments

[sharp_as_knives]

Hey, food was important!

Tristan shrugged. Food was food. How many sorts were there? You boiled the meat or you cooked it over fire. "Sic."

[furnaceface]

See? That's what Jonothon had once thought. And then he went and lost his ability to actually eat any of it. He shrugged as well, and then pulled himself out of bed, making a reach for, at the very least, a t-shirt to cover most of the flames with.

//Then I suppose it's time for breakfast,// he replied. //I need to head to the kitchen to feed the cats before they start knocking things over anyway.//

Because cats.

[sharp_as_knives]

...He fed the cats? Couldn't they hunt?

Tristan sheathed his knife and waited to follow him. "Tristan," he introduced himself with a gesture. Had he learned this man's name before?

[furnaceface]

Sure, the cats could try. But there were no mice in this house, and one cat, while he'd likely been an accomplished ratter in his heyday, was now old and deaf, and the other wasn't much larger than the mice, herself. It would probably end... poorly.

//Jonothon,// he replied, mimicking the gesture before heading for the bedroom door. //Jono, for short. Pleasure.//

They had made introductions, but that had been a while ago. They could probably both be forgiven for having slippery minds. This place was overwhelming at the best of times.

Mostly, Jono was just happy that the knife was being put away, now.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Jono," Tristan repeated, nodding. He followed Jono downstairs, gradually realising this was the same rich house he'd been in before. Or one similar enough as to make no difference. Strange place.

[furnaceface]

For what it was worth, the place was strange even to Jono, sometimes. He was used to living in high-end surroundings thanks to all of his time on assorted X-teams, but those had really only taken up a fraction of his life, and less than that once he started worrying about the overall tally of lifetimes crammed into his head.

He made his way into the kitchen, gesturing for Tristan to take a seat if he felt so inclined, and started poking through the fridge. At the sound of the fridge door opening, Joni made her way into the kitchen, giving a little mew as she did so. Because breakfast.

... She did need to take a moment to sniff at the new person's feet. Hello, new person!

[sharp_as_knives]

Ah. Not a cat, but a kitten. She probably still needed to learn hunting. Tristan leaned down to let her sniff his fingers, then rubbed her head. "You will grow into a fine hunter," he told her in Scythian. "Keep learning."

[furnaceface]

Jono glanced over his shoulder and gave a little corner-of-the-eyes smile at that. Already, Joni was deciding that this man was her best of friends.

Of course, that was basically Joni with anybody. She gave his fingers a sniff, and then purred and started winding back and forth under his hand, soliciting all the scratches she could get while Jono served out the meat that Hannibal kept aside for the cats.

He wasn't going to tell Tristan just how long she'd been a kitten for. He was going to just finish serving out the cat food, and then go poking around the fridge again for the meat that he knew was safe. And eggs. Eggs were definitely safe.

[sharp_as_knives]

Humans being mammals...yes, the eggs were safe.

Joni waffled between the food and the scratches, and after a moment, Tristan chuckled and scooped up a bit of the food on his fingers for her while he scratched her with the other hand.

What? He liked animals. Especially tiny predators.

[furnaceface]

Any incarnation of Hannibal liking little predators really didn't come as a surprise to Jono in the least. And if he was taking a moment to just kind of point his phone in a direction for, honest, no apparent reason... well, the morning light made up neatly for him not having the flash on, okay?

Joni had a friend. A friend who was hand-feeding her. What a spoiled little thing she was.

And then it was right back to cooking. Fried eggs, a steak, maybe toast? Jono had no idea what kind of food Tristan preferred, but figured it would probably be easiest to not complicate breakfast too much. It wasn't like he was going to be eating it, either.

... Okay, but he had to fry up some onion, too. If there was steak, there had to be onion. That was the rule. And maybe if he cut up a potato...

He had it on good authority that if there was one thing he cooked well, it was steak and potatoes.

[sharp_as_knives]

Meat, eggs, bread, onions, and potatoes? Fancy!

It definitely smelled good, and Tristan stood back up to watch as it cooked, idly licking his fingers cleaner than Joni had.

[furnaceface]

Well, Jono really only had experience cooking for a very pregnant Karla in the last while. He had no idea how much food to make for a perfect stranger, and his own appetite while he'd been massive and blue probably wasn't a good indicator, either. So...

He was kind of winging it, here. And trying not to side-eye Tristan for licking off his fingers. That cat licked her own bottom with the tongue that had just been licking those hands, Tristan.

//It shouldn't be too long,// Jono offered, giving the onions a stir. //The potatoes take the longest, generally.//

... Given that Tristan was licking raw meat from his fingers, Jono wasn't going to bother asking how he took his steak, either. He didn't imagine the man was terribly fussy in that regard.

[sharp_as_knives]

Tristan fed himself and his hawk the same meat at times, so...no, not terribly fussy. How cooked he liked his meat largely depended on how hot the fire was and how hungry he was.

"Bene olet."

[furnaceface]

Jono nodded a little.

//I'm kind of jealous,// he admitted, prodding at the potatoes a bit. //My partner does all the cooking, generally. But he does all of the eating, too.//

And it was easier to ignore that he wasn't actually putting the food into his mouth if he wasn't the one cooking it. Especially since if he was cooking it, he got to make it the way he liked it. He glanced Tristan's way, and then decided to clarify, //I can't eat. This'll all be for you.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Tristan raised his eyebrows, but he supposed that made sense. Part of the curse, presumably. "Tua socias?"

[furnaceface]

//Hannibal,// Jono replied, nodding faintly. And then pausing before clarifying. //He owns the house. But he's... er... out for the weekend.//

That, like the curse thing, seemed like the easiest way to explain that one away.

[sharp_as_knives]

Tristan just accepted that at face value and leaned in to pick an onion out of the pan.

[furnaceface]

//Careful, it's hot,// Jono cautioned, but let Tristan do as he pleased otherwise. It wasn't like he was going to be eating those onions as well, after all. He was maybe a little more lax about kitchen safety today than he had been the other weekend, as a kid.

It really was remarkable the things he couldn't be bothered to care about after a few long, nonconsecutive years spent without a mouth.

//And the rest is nearly ready anyway.// He tipped the eggs onto a plate, and tossed the toast on there, too. //This'll tide you over until the meat and potatoes are done.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Gratias," Tristan said, reaching for the toast and using it to scoop the rest up with. It was good, and he nodded his approval.

[furnaceface]

//You're welcome,// Jono replied, settling back to lean against the counter while he wanted for the rest of the food to finish. //When you get hungry again, let me know. I don't actually mind doing the cooking, and the kitchen can be a bit confusing for people who don't know their way around it.//

Jono was from what was more or less the present, and he didn't know the function of half the things Hannibal kept in the cupboards.

[sharp_as_knives]

Tristan snorted. There wasn't even a fire pit or spit in this kitchen! Jono was welcome to do the work.

He wasn't saying as much, though. He was too busy eating.

[furnaceface]

See? Confusing! And Jono wasn't going to direct Tristan to the grill in the back. He wanted to get through this weekend without burning down the house, if at all possible.

//Actually, if there's anything at all you need, just let me know. Odds are, I'll be able to get my hands on most of it.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Arcus?" Tristan asked in between bites. Did Jono have a bow this time? One that wasn't dusty?

[furnaceface]

A little smile creased Jono's cheeks, right by his eyes.

//I've been keeping better care of it since the last time you've been about,// Jono assured him. //Just try to refrain from shooting the big pink birds on the front lawn. Hannibal likes those more than he lets on, I think.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"No shooting pink birds," Tristan agreed. If those were the exclusive property of whichever lord owned this place, he'd make do with other things.