Date night, Home to ... somewhere, Saturday night

[sharp_as_knives]

The fortunate thing about finding a world in which an avant-garde opera they might both enjoy was playing, was that such places also tended to have somewhat outre ideas of fashion. It might be Hannibal's birthday, but he wasn't in a mood to make Jono uncomfortable or start any fights. Instead, Hannibal's plaid would be downright staid where they were going, and if Jono wasn't careful, he might start a trend.

Right now, though, Hannibal was trying to decide upon a tie that fit the evening. He'd had one chosen earlier, but had foolishly left it hanging too close to the bed, and it had been summarily pulled down - at the moment it was being used as a cat bed. Even if he could pull it out, the grey hairs on it weren't going anywhere any time soon.

Comments

[furnaceface]

Please excuse Jono for a moment, Hannibal, while he leans forward to bury his face in his knees. He just has to die for a few seconds, here.

//Emma,// he said, once he got his bearings and surfaced again. //Both of them.//

God save them all.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Two Emmas?" Hannibal asked. "That would be very striking."

God help the entire island.

[furnaceface]

//Either they would take over the island or they'd kill one another,// Jono noted, amused. //I don't think there'd be much of a middle ground, there.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"We could have one of them give away each of us," Hannibal suggested. "Matching bridal parties."

[furnaceface]

//... I'm not completely certain they'd turn down the request,// Jono mused. //But then we'd have to sort out who gets who. I think Fandom's Emma would be put out if I didn't ask her, but you don't know my reality's version at all.//

There was a pause.

//I don't know where she's hiding these days, anyway. Maybe one of us will have to ask Bob or Karla or something.//

Those were two very different suggestions, Jono.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal blinked. "Bob is at least older than I am. Not many on the island are." He gave Jono a curious and innocent look. "Do you think Didi would consent to act as my mother?"

[furnaceface]

//Iiiii think I'm going to have to draw a line at getting an ex to give you away. If not for her sake, then for what it does to my brain,// Jono replied, blinking.

He was pretty sure Hannibal was messing with him. He wasn't that tasteless.

[sharp_as_knives]

He really wasn't. But he was one of the older people on the island.

"Perhaps the mayor?" he offered.

[furnaceface]

//I think Tamsin is the sort who would rather run her hand through a meat grinder than participate in somebody's wedding,// Jono replied. //But then, maybe she'd surprise us.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Hm. Perhaps we'll simply have to give ourselves away, then," Hannibal said, relenting with a smile. "We're running out of women older than I am."

[furnaceface]

//There's always Ermengarde,// Jono teased. //I'm sure she'd be thrilled to assist. We could even bribe her with saffron.//

So. Much. Saffron. And as somebody who regularly cooked for the whole estate, she'd stand a better chance of using it, too.

[sharp_as_knives]

"I'm not giving away my saffron," Hannibal replied archly. "It was a Christmas present from my fiancé."

[furnaceface]

//Who said anything about your saffron? I know a supplier. I think I might be their favourite buyer...//

Jono, stop talking about saffron like some illicit black market item.

[sharp_as_knives]

"That might work, then," Hannibal agreed. "Provided she can survive outside her natural habitat. I've never seen her outside of the kitchens, after all; have you?"

[furnaceface]

Jono contemplated that one for a few moments, and then blinked and shook his head.

//Now that you mention it, I don't believe I have. She's always in there to wave a spoon at me when I go in to cook a steak, it seems. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she had a cot hidden away in there somewhere so she doesn't have to leave the kitchens to sleep.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"There, you see? And I'm not holding my wedding in Glacia's kitchens, lovely as they are."

Ermengarde might actually kill them.

[furnaceface]

She'd probably kill Logan, first. For what? Who knew. But give Logan thirty seconds in Ermengarde's kitchen, and he'd probably give her a reason.

//Fair point, then. I suppose you're right. We'll just have to give ourselves to one another, after all.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Which we are doing anyway," Hannibal pointed out, "so we might as well match the symbolic to the actual."

[furnaceface]

//Which, you know, is probably better for my sanity than having Logan escort me down the aisle, anyway.//

Probably better for Logan's sanity too, for that matter.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Which is not to say we can't ask him to," Hannibal said, smirking. "Perhaps during a spar."

He'd love to get another hit in.

[furnaceface]

Jono rolled his eyes, but the amusement in his expression was clear.

//If it doesn't end with you bleeding this time, I'm all for it.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"I suppose that depends upon how angry it makes him," Hannibal said, still grinning.

[furnaceface]

//And if Logan maims you for mentioning our upcoming wedding, I'll have to kill him,// Jono said cheerfully.

He was probably joking. Except for how he absolutely wasn't.

[sharp_as_knives]

Now that was true love. Even if Logan would probably come back.

"Do you think we'll get him into a tuxedo?" Hannibal asked.

[furnaceface]

//I know the man owns a bloody tuxedo,// Jono replied, shrugging his shoulders. //He cleans up reasonably well, when he's given an occasion to do so. He might moan about it, though.//

Not like he'd be the only one, anyway.