Icehotel, Christmas morning

[sharp_as_knives]

Christmas hadn't dawned yet; dawn wouldn't come until late morning. Meanwhile, Hannibal had manged to finagle some nice, hot coffee from the restaurant and was enjoying it from a thermos as he contemplated the day before them.



[OOC: For the partner! Open for calls or whatnot.]

Comments

[furnaceface]

To Jono's credit, he didn't bury his face in his hand again.

//That was in case you didn't like the saffron,// he agreed.

The obscene amount of saffron.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal chuckled. "It's a lovely tie." He kissed Jono's temple. "Thank you for both my gifts."

[furnaceface]

//You're welcome,// Jono replied, feeling a little better with that kiss, at least. //Merry Christmas, Hannibal.//

Feel free to share the saffron with the class, or hand it out in the streets, or dye your socks with it, or use it as confetti.

[sharp_as_knives]

All of these were in fact possibilities. But the thought (and cost) behind the gift were very much appreciated.

"Merry Christmas." He handed Jono the envelope he'd picked up.

[furnaceface]

Aww, envelope. You were far less intimidating than a pound of vaccuum-sealed saffron already! Jono gave Hannibal a warm brush of affection as he took the envelope and opened it, and then blinked for a moment at the brochure and the ticket he pulled out from within.

//Is... is this... biplane flying lessons?// Jono looked up from the brochure at Hannibal, wide-eyed. //With stunts?//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smiled. "I thought it likely to be something that you hadn't flown before."

[furnaceface]

//And you'd be right,// Jono agreed, and yes, he was practically vibrating with excitement at the prospect of it. //Lord, it's been a while since I've flown anything. I'd cash in on a Portalocity bad life choices special and fly th'bloody Hindenburg to get back into the sky again.//

Which was probably the reason there were biplane tickets, yes. Much safer than a giant, hydrogen-filled zeppelin.

//This... this is fantastic. Thank you,// Jono murmured, leaning in to nuzzle his face against Hannibal's cheek.

[sharp_as_knives]

"You're welcome." Hannibal kissed Jono's ear and held him close. "I'm pleased you like it."

[furnaceface]

Clearly no panic had been involved in the purchase of this ticket. Hannibal was winning at the Christmas Game, so far as Jono was concerned.

//How could I not? You know exactly how much I've missed being able to just... fly.// Clinging on for dear life. That was what was happening here, more or less. //I can't think of anything I'd appreciate more than this. Not really.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal tended not to panic when faced with the internet, it was true.

If Jono wanted to cling, Hannibal would simply hold him and let him. "Merry Christmas."

[furnaceface]

As an added bonus, a literal acre of crocuses didn't have to die for this gift to happen. So.

//Merry Christmas.//

This was nice. A little cold. But very, very nice.

[sharp_as_knives]

That depended on how well Jono flew, really.

Hannibal reached for his jacket and pulled it back around his shoulders. "More coffee, the sauna, or breakfast?"

[furnaceface]

//... If I were to say that breakfast and coffee would go wonderfully in the sauna...?//

No, Jono. They didn't do room service, and the luck had already been pushed in that regard.

//Probably should get breakfast out of the way, at any rate. Once we get into the sauna, I'm not liable to let you out again for a while.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Oh?" Hannibal smirked. "Breakfast first, then." He slid out of bed and handed Jono his boots as he set about getting re-bundled himself. "I believe they're doing the Christmas breakfast again this morning."

[furnaceface]

//For we heathen tourists who don't celebrate it on the 24th? Ah, good. Can't imagine what I would do without a second helping of porridge.//

Which he couldn't eat himself. So, really, it wasn't a great loss, where he was sitting. He was mostly just kidding, shaking his head as he pulled on his boots, and then started layering the rest. The great thing about the balaclava, he found, was that he didn't have to worry about re-doing all of his wrappings first thing in the morning.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Find something else to be grumpy about," Hannibal suggested cheerfully. "Ready?"

[furnaceface]

//Ready as it gets,// Jono replied, making sure everything was tucked in so that no fire would get away from him. Much easier with this many layers than it was back on the island. //Let's go and get breakfast over with, then, so I can get back to all that important complaining that I have on the agenda for the day.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Breakfast it is." Hannibal zipped up his jacket and held the door for Jono.

[furnaceface]

Jono bowed his head a little and stepped through the door, pausing to catch it for Hannibal in turn. Because he was a stinkin' gentleman, that was why.

//And while we're out, I suppose we can look into everything else they have planned for the day, and judge whether we'd rather be participating or hiding in the sauna accordingly.//

Jono was still pretty certain the sauna was going to win, here. He'd been a big fan of it ever since they'd arrived.

[sharp_as_knives]

"We can," Hannibal agreed. He smiled and wrapped an arm around Jono, leading him out and across to the restaurant building. "There's still quite a bit to do apart from relax, if you feel the urge. I'd rather like to take one of the dogsled trips before we leave."

[furnaceface]

//You know that's a dangerous plan,// Jono teased, following along. //I'm going to start wondering how well a pack of sled dogs can run on powdered sugar or something.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"We are not bringing home a team of dogs," Hannibal said firmly.

[furnaceface]

//Well, no. It'd be hell to try to herd them through the portal,// Jono agreed.

There was a shelter on the island though...

[sharp_as_knives]

"We are also not adopting a team of dogs," Hannibal answered. It was almost like he knew Jono! "The flamingos are bad enough."

[furnaceface]

//They're terrible, but we haven't adopted the flamingos,// Jono pointed out. //Anyway, I'm sure a pack of dogs that are practically still wolves would adore the flamingos.//

You know, in a manner of speaking!

//And the cats would hate the dogs. Or, well, Beethoven would.//

Joni loved everyone except for ghost-figments, apparently.