Hannibal's house (where Jono isn't being lied to today), Friday

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal hadn't noticed anything different yet today himself. He'd heard the radio, which had made him cautious, but it wasn't as though he made a habit of lying to the cats, or even to Jono these days.

So, he was staying inside for the moment and working on new wedding preparations. It wasn't as though things could go bad that way, after all.



[OOC: Open post!]

Comments

[uncertain_dume]

And Jono, meanwhile, had started his day by looking at the internet and announcing that he was going the hell back to bed, and also fuck everything. Which was both honest, and not completely unusual for Jono, all things considered.

The knock on the door, of course, wasn't Jono. Kanan had woken up, found himself a bit at a loss now that he had no class left to teach, and upon looking out the window to see space laid bare above the island, decided that he needed both company and caf. Not necessarily in that order.

So, not aware that there was anything particularly problematic about today, he went to pay Doctor Lecter a house call. Knock knock!

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal set aside the list of invitations to send and went to answer the door, smiling when he did. "Mr. Jarrus, hello. Please come in."

[uncertain_dume]

"Doctor Lecter, hey." Kanan gave an easy smile and a nod of his head. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything. I was just stopping by in hopes that you had more of that coffee that was almost like caf."

He blinked. Wait. That wasn't how that was supposed to come out.

"And, uh, for the company."

That was true. And more or less what he'd intended to say.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal just grinned.

"Of course." He let Kanan in and led the way to the kitchen. "It will take just a moment to brew it. Would you like some food as well?"

[uncertain_dume]

"Actually, yeah, I'm starving. I think I've already maxed out all the different combinations of ramen and eggs that are available to me," Kanan replied, his brain catching up to his mouth a moment later. He blinked. "Because I spent most of my last pay on rent and alcohol."

...

That wasn't helping. He tried to stifle a grimace.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal started the coffee and shook his head. "You really should eat better. Perhaps purchase a cookbook. And I have alcohol here which I'm happy to share, if it leaves you money for food. You're an amusing drunk."

Well. Perhaps he wasn't keeping as tight a rein on things as he'd thought.

"I'm also always happy to have guests for dinner."

[uncertain_dume]

"I guess I should be happy I'm at least 'amusing,'" Kanan muttered, looking somewhere between disgruntled and perplexed as he reached up to run a hand through his hair. Which didn't work so well with the ponytail in place.

But it was the honest tell that he had to show he was nervous, so his hand was defaulting back to it, today.

He wrinkled his nose.

"I have been trying to work on eating better. I still have a lot to learn about the food, here. You mess up eating an orange one time too many, it tends to leave you a little leery."

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal frowned, trying to think of how... "You bit into it without removing the peel?" he guessed.

[uncertain_dume]

Kanan's expression probably said a lot, right then. The shudder most likely didn't hurt, either.

"Yeah. And then there was an incident with an orange - peeled, this time - and toothpaste..."

Basically, Kanan had some kind of citrus trauma starting to set in.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal grimaced at that. "That is an unpleasant combination," he agreed. "I can offer you a better one." He started getting out what he would need. "Crepes suzette. Traditionally a dessert, but I see no reason to let that stop me. I'll find something to accompany them as well."

[uncertain_dume]

"Wouldn't even be the first time I've had a dessert as a meal," Kanan noted, shrugging his shoulders a little. "And I'm not opposed to trying something that might redeem the fruit, considering they look like they're more or less everywhere. Way easier to smuggle those home after school picnics than berries, anyway."

... Sigh.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Apples are more ubiquitous, and almost as easy to smuggle," Hannibal answered, amused. "And you can eat the peels on them."

He began mixing up the crepes, pausing to pour the coffee when it was ready.

"I bring my own food and drink to the picnics, because I'm fussy about my food."

[uncertain_dume]

"Really?" Kanan looked at Hannibal as he took himself a seat at the table, amusement flicking over his expression at that. "You, Doctor, are way more picky about what you eat than I am."

Clearly.

"But I guess I do have a history of eating any old garbage that doesn't look like it'll kill me."

...

Please, for the love of the Force, don't take that literally. Kanan was looking toward the ceiling, really wondering at this point if it would be too rude to make a break for the door, after all.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal, meanwhile, had no compunctions about using the truth to manipulate people.

"So do I," he answered. "And I have no intentions of doing so again."

[uncertain_dume]

Well, that caught Kanan's interest. Almost so much that he forgot to be concerned about how free he was being with his words, today.

"You do, Doctor? I never would have guessed."

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smiled, letting the crepe mixture sit as he focused on the rest. "My parents died when I was young. I spent some time fending for myself and my sister, then was taken to a state-run orphanage. Neither was a pleasant experience."

He mixed the filling and took out some bacon to make before starting the crepes themselves.

"I find that those who have experienced hardship often appreciate the finer things all the more for knowing their absence."

[uncertain_dume]

"There... is a certain sort of luxury about knowing where your next meal is coming from," Kanan noted, digesting all of that, nodding faintly. "Better still when you get to pick what it is. Working for Moonglow's been one of the better jobs I've had, for that. Even if Gorse is about as welcoming on a good day as a Hutt's backside on a bad one."

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal chuckled. "I have no idea what a Hutt is, but that's still quite an image. Tell me about it. Gorse," he clarified. He really didn't need to know the particulars about a Hutt's backside.

[uncertain_dume]

For possibly the first time in his life, Kanan found himself exceptionally relieved that somebody was making the distinction.

"Not really much to say about Gorse," Kanan admitted. "It's a half-inhabitable ball of baking mud. You'd cook to death, literally, if you went to the daylight side, so everyone who lives there lives on the night side. Great if you like the dark. Or weird cultists. Or getting mugged. But the pay is decent, if you're one of the miners working up on the moon."

[sharp_as_knives]

"And which are you?" Hannibal asked.

[uncertain_dume]

"A suicide flyer," Kanan replied, a wry twist to his lips. "I'm one of the people who flies explosives to the miners for use in Cynda's caves. The pay's even better, for us. Dare you to guess why."

He could take or leave the dark. And really had no interest in the cults. Fortunately.

[sharp_as_knives]

But was he into being mugged?

Hannibal feigned a thoughtful look for a moment. "Given the job title, I'm going to guess explosives and space travel don't always mix well."

[uncertain_dume]

Kanan was into a lot of weird things. He'd thank Hannibal to not ask him about his kinks.

"Especially not baradium," he agreed, smirking faintly. "It's touchy stuff. Highly volatile and capable of driving people to psychotic episodes if it's packaged incorrectly. Not a pleasant cargo."

Hence the bear attacks when he'd tried to dispose of the stuff. Fun times.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Psychotic attacks?" Hannibal asked. "That sounds interesting." Sigh, Fandom. "Does it have an extremely short half-life, or is there some property other than radiation that causes it?"

[uncertain_dume]

"That.... is a very good question that I don't know the exact answer to." Kanan shrugged his shoulders. "I like to think of myself as a jack of all trades, but knowing the exact radioactive properties of my cargo is a step outside of my pay grade. So long as it's properly contained, it isn't exactly my problem." A beat. "It's actually the coolant that keeps the baradium from exploding that causes the episodes, though. It's a chemical, extremely psychoactive. But you can't safely transport baby without it, so the risk is a trade-off."