sharp_as_knives | Hannibal's house (where Jono at least isn't hungover), late Sunday morning

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Hannibal's house (where Jono at least isn't hungover), late Sunday morning

Since Kanan had been in no shape last night to tell Hannibal where he lived, he'd ended up in one of Hannibal's guest rooms. His shoes and jacket were under a plush chair next to the bed, the chair itself weighing them down so they wouldn't escape.

Hannibal woke up as early as was his custom, but when getting ready involved bodily threatening every article of clothing, it took a bit longer than usual. He ended up sans jacket and socks, but with a shirt, waistcoat, and trousers that worked well together, at least. (His shoes were currently pinned in the corner of the closet after being threatened with a scalpel.)

Now he was drinking coffee to the sounds of Tosca and thumbing through his recipes for something that sounded good. He had company, after all.

[OOC: Expecting one, but open post!]

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It wasn't that Kanan wasn't thankful for the assist last night. It really wasn't. It was more that, having one hell of a hangover and very little in the way of an idea as to where the hell he was or how he had even gotten here, his first instinct upon waking up in an unfamiliar (and unexpectedly comfortable) bed was to make a reach for his blaster.

... Which was over there. With the rest of his things. Across the room. As opposed to where he would have put it himself within easy reach if he'd been putting himself to bed like a semi-functional human being.

Maybe he could be forgiven, then, for going for his blaster and making certain that was strapped in place before even considering his boots and jacket. Those he took one look at, squinted, and decided to come back for once he figured out where he was at.

... And who was playing that music.

More than a little bit warily, Kanan made his way toward the source of those sounds, wishing his head would start feeling less like somebody had stabbed it, and his mouth would start tasting a little less like... purple?

Edited 2016-05-15 22:29 (UTC)

Hannibal eventually settled on ham and gruyère waffle tartines and, in deference to his guest's need for liquids and vitamins, a smoothie. The latter was ready and he'd just started on the waffles for the former when Kanan stumbled into the kitchen.

"Mr. Jarrus." He nodded and slid the smoothie towards him. "How are you feeling?"

He was guessing 'death warmed over'.

Edited 2016-05-15 22:57 (UTC)

That seemed like a close approximation.

"Like I've been hit by a hoverbus," Kanan replied, blinking in bleary confusion at the smoothie before tentatively reaching for it. He'd nod his thanks, but there was no way his head was going to allow it. "And then the driver backed up again to see what that 'thunk' sound was."

The backing up really wasn't a terrible fate unless you were talking about the Okadiah's. Most hoverbuses would just go right overtop. That one...

It was a wonder that one went anywhere at all.

"Uh... thanks. I'm guessing this is your place?"

It definitely wasn't his place. His place didn't have... well, things.

"It is. I wasn't certain where yours was," Hannibal said. "Please, have a seat. Drink that; it should help with your headache. And I've coffee as well, if you like." Much better than diner coffee, even Eliot's diner coffee.

"Thank you again," Kanan replied, after a few seconds to blearily equate 'coffee' with 'caf' once again. "That sounds great."

It really did. And in the meantime, he'd work his way through the drink in his hand. This one tasted much less purple.

"I, uh, I hope I wasn't too..." He paused for a moment, groping for the right word. 'Drunk' was not it. He already knew he was far too that. "Insufferable last night."

That would do.

Hannibal smirked. "Apart from being somewhat heavy, you were no trouble at all, I assure you." And he had experience hauling bodies around.

He poured the waffle batter into the iron and took a moment to draw a cup of coffee for Kanan, sliding it toward him along with the cream and sugar.

"Well, that's a relief," Kanan replied, abandoning the smoothie for a moment to make a reach for the coffee. He contemplated the cream and sugar for a moment, and then just decided, no, he'd rather let the coffee do its thing without the help.

Anyway, he still wasn't sure what to make of white milk.

"Heavy, I can live with." A pause. "Sorry about last night, though. I asked for something that had a kick to it. I didn't figure the bartender would take that so literally."

"Not at all." Hannibal waved that off as he started on the sauce. "But you might want to stay away from that particular drink in the future. Unless you enjoy that sort of thing."

"The drink itself wasn't too bad," Kanan offered, a bit of a smirk very briefly crossing his expression. Another protest from his pounding head cut that one short. "It's the aftermath I'm going to want to avoid from here on out."

"Plenty of hydration and vitamins," Hannibal said. He pointed his spatula at the smoothie. "That should be full of both; it's made from a number of fruits and vegetables."

"Roughly none of which I'd recognize, so I'll just take your word for it and drink this," Kanan decided, even if putting the coffee down felt a little bit like cutting off his own hand might. "It is good, though. Really good, actually."

If he was being entirely honest, he'd probably admit that it was the best-tasting drink he'd had in years. But he was still too hung over to gush too much, anyway.

"You know, when I said I'd stop by to visit, this wasn't actually what I'd meant. Honest."

Hannibal laughed. "I hadn't thought it was. And if I thought you'd recognize the ingredients, I'd have told you what they were. But it's still an opportunity for me to cook for you, and for you to visit, no matter how it began."

"I suppose so," Kanan chuckled. A chuckle that he immediately regretted, at that. He winced. "Though I'm not likely to be a stellar conversationalist this morning, I'm warning you now."

"Noted." Hannibal nodded back and to his right. "In the corner there on the bottom is a large metal box. It's a first aid kit; there are painkillers."

Along with quite a few other things that were more at home in an emergency room than a home kit, but Hannibal was ~~Hannibal~~ a doctor.

And really, people relied so much on bacta in Kanan's time, it was a wonder anybody knew any conventional medicine besides. He wasn't liable to really know what most of it was unless he really went poking around.

He took another mouthful of his smoothie, and then nodded and pulled himself to his feet.

"I might take you up on that, yeah," he decided, making his way over and crouching down to open the box. And then tilting his head in confusion. Uh. "Which one am I looking for?"

"There will be a set of packets labeled 'Naproxen'," Hannibal said. "One of those."

"Naproxen," Kanan echoed, pulling out one of the packets and looking at it thoughtfully before closing up the rest of the kit and making his way to the table. "Got it. And this is taken...?"

How?

Look, it wasn't like he didn't have a few guesses, but he wanted to be absolutely certain. 'Orally, with water' wasn't the most immediately obvious possible means in every galaxy.

"Open the packet and swallow the pills," Hannibal said. He set the waffles on a baking sheet, prepared them, and set them in the oven to broil the cheese. "You can wash them down with liquid."

"Straightforward," Kanan mused as he tore the packet open and dumped the two pills into his hand. He considered them thoughtfully for a few moments before popping them into his mouth. Down the hatch, and followed by some more smoothie. "I like straightforward."

"I imagine not much has been in this last week." Hannibal set about cleaning up and poured himself a new cup of coffee.

"Nothing," Kanan agreed. "All of nothing has been straightforward this last week. Except maybe the drinks last night. Those did exactly what they were made for and then some."

He was feeling the 'then some' right now, actually.

"That, I'm afraid, is unlikely to completely change," Hannibal said. "It will get somewhat more familiar, but the nature of this island means that it will never become entirely commonplace."

"I guess that means I won't be getting bored any time soon."

Which was a good thing and a bad thing. 'Bored' was generally what Kanan used as a marker for how much longer he should bother sticking around somewhere, these days.

Hannibal grinned. "This place is many things, but it is very rarely boring."

It was definitely a good thing for Hannibal. When he got bored, people tended to die.

More people than usual.

"Then who knows? I might end up sticking around for a while."

Not that he actually knew how to leave, yet. Or where to go from here. Illium didn't seem like a bad idea. It was deceptively familiar, in fact. And if it wasn't the same galaxy as his own...

His head hurt. But slightly less. That was a good sign.

"And if I decide not to, it looks like I have a lot more options now than I did a week ago."

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