Hannibal's home (where there's more of Jono than ever), Saturday evening

[sharp_as_knives]

They weren't expecting any visitors today, and the invitations and prep work for the wedding were done (again). So, after Jono got home from the music shop, they met in what was now the gym, though the lights had been turned down and a comfortable sort of nest set up in the middle.

[OOC: for the one mentioned!]

Comments

[furnaceface]

Nestled in that nest, kind of half propped up on pillows and whatever other cushions he could find (without denuding the sofas), was Jono, wrappings off, looking... nervous. He generally always did when they did this sort of thing, though it was less blatant these days, more anticipation than outright fear.

//... Maybe some music would help, too?//

There was always some traditional stalling to be done before this, too.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal gave him a look of fond exasperation. "You should be focusing on yourself, not the music." He picked up the remote, though. "Some instrumental guitar?"

[furnaceface]

//S'good for the nerves,// Jono replied, nodding his agreement. //And guitar's the best thing for it. I mean... these are my nerves I'm putting back together, here...//

Well, maybe. Depending on how successful this particular attempt was, anyway.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Good for growing nerves as well?" Hannibal asked, amused. He turned on the music, low, and ran a hand through Jono's hair, rubbing his scalp. "Relax. You know this works better when you do."

[furnaceface]

//I know,// Jono murmured, closing his eyes and leaning his head back a little. //'M getting better at that, I think.//

Not, like, miraculously so. But any improvement was still better than backsliding, right?

[sharp_as_knives]

"You are," Hannibal agreed, already slipping into his hypnotic soothing voice. "You've made very good progress already." He kept one hand in Jono's hair as the other slipped down to where his chest met fire.

[furnaceface]

It was the fire that reacted most obviously, then, yellow-orange flame shifting to pale blue, snaking between Hannibal's fingers and creeping up his arm. Jono, meanwhile, just bowed his head a little more, content to feel Hannibal there with him.

//Where should we start tonight?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"You tell me," Hannibal answered, smiling at the flames. "Are you feeling any particular affinity or need for a certain point today?"

[furnaceface]

//Wouldn't mind managing some lips for wedding number two,// Jono half-joked, then shook his head. //But I suppose I should be a bit more realistic. More chest would be simplest, most likely. I seem to have more or less gotten the hang of that, a bit at a time.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal hummed in thought. "Perhaps a bit of your jawline, then. Nothing so complex as lips, and you're already well practiced at the shape of it."

[furnaceface]

//True,// Jono replied, tilting his head a little, eyes still closed. //I won't have instant gratification there, but I suppose I could at least make some headway...//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal gave Jono a look that he probably couldn't see and a mingled feeling of delight and pain that he would definitely feel. That was a terrible pun, and he adored it.

"Let's see how far ahead you can get, then."

[furnaceface]

Jono gave a small, pleased nod. There was no small amount of pride coming from him at that reaction. After all, it wasn't every day that Jono bothered to pun at all. Still, he settled in, and started to focus. It was practically a matter of ritual, by this point. Focus on the part that he wanted to try to rebuild. Hold the picture of it, the feel of it in his mind. And then just sort of... will it to happen.

That was the difficult part, and the part that always exhausted him the most. Going from concept to actual, physical progress took energy and focus, a fact that frustrated him to no end. When he was a nebulous blob of flame with no apparent body, he could re-form himself without even managing conscious thought. But when he was more or less a living, functioning creature?

Ha.

For the time being, he was going to hold that picture in his mind, again. Share it with Hannibal. That image of his face, the way it felt, whole and there and his. That was what he wanted. Maybe he'd actually have it someday.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal had no doubt that he would.

For now, he moved his hand from Jono's chest to his cheek, stroking skin and fire there as if the jaw were already built, offering a focus. In his mind and out loud, he murmured his expectations, semi-hypnotic suggestions of what Jono would be doing.

[furnaceface]

Jono couldn't feel Hannibal's hand in the physical sense. Not most of it, anyway. But he could sense it there, moving through his flames, and Jono found himself drifting, letting himself focus on the feel of that hand, the sound of Hannibal's voice, soothing and reassuring and encouraging.

He let himself drift, let himself ease into a state of mind where following those suggestions came as easy to him as breathing did to some. He trusted Hannibal, after all, though he was paying attention to those words and what was behind them, if distantly. It was difficult to be a telepath and not.

[sharp_as_knives]

Jono was fortunate in that what he was striving for was precisely what Hannibal wanted - to bring him to a fuller realization of himself and his abilities.

In this case, that meant building skin and nerves in the shape of a jaw, focusing on simply having that jaw and the structures that went with it, knowing that they were already his, only waiting for his instructions.

[furnaceface]

And that was huge. There was such a roadblock in his mind's eye on a good day, a big piece of himself that was aware that he probably could put himself together on a whim again if he actually applied himself to it, but the sort of applying that was required involved more energy than he had in him, not just physically or psionically, but emotionally, as well.

He swept those emotions to the side for the moment, letting his powers and Hannibal's will mingle. There was more to a jaw than skin and nerves, of course, and Hannibal's medical knowledge was useful, there. Gave him a sort of... map to follow. A grain to run with. So that was what he did, applying himself to the bone first, a sort of lattice to build the rest onto. A foundation.

Also the most difficult part for him to build, for some reason. Maybe that, too, was a roadblock that he'd put up in his own way. Who knew?

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smiled and kept up his encouragement, but there was a bit of surprise there as well - surely the shape, the skin, would have been an easier start point? It was where they'd started each time before.

[furnaceface]

They had, and it was, Jono agreed, a sort of wordless acknowledgment of that surprise. A maybe faintly amused one, at that. It wasn't often Jono managed to get surprise out of Hannibal. And in this particular case...

He sent him a bit of physical sensation back, of skin with nothing to shape it, the way his face had been when he'd first been hurt, before the flame had continued burning and eaten so much of it away. It was... uncomfortable. Skin shifting with flame, at the whim of his powers. Uncomfortable and distracting and it made him feel more than a little self-conscious, especially if he was going to be going around without his wrappings, more.

But beyond that, starting from the inside and building out, with the solid base, just seemed to make more sense, today. Like building a house. You didn't put the walls up first, you built a frame. Clay went over an armature. A base to give shape and form, a guideline as well as a support. So... bone, today. It seemed to make sense.

[sharp_as_knives]

And for that, he got a burst of exasperation, the mental equivalent of, Well, why haven't you ever said so? They'd been doing this long enough, and Jono had never made such a preference known before.

Hannibal wasn't going to try to sidetrack them, though; if bone was what Jono needed, then that was what Hannibal would help him with.

[furnaceface]

There was silence in return for a few moments as Jono let himself focus on what would eventually, hopefully, be actual skeletal structure. It was only after he was fairly certain he'd pictured it right that he replied.

Because when we started, I didn't think this was going to work. And then it did work, and I got wrapped up in that. And even then, I didn't want to put in that much effort if I was just going to turn around and ruin it again anyway.

Blunt and honest. Those two tended to coincide well when Jono's attention was elsewhere.

[sharp_as_knives]

Jono seemed to be doing well with Hannibal's mental suggestions, and he rarely took verbal praise well anyway, so Hannibal stuck to feelings: pride mostly, jubilance that Jono was confident enough for this, and fierce joy that he had come so far.

He wrapped that up in the feeling and shape of bone, of a strong jaw he'd seen the lines of before, and sent it back to Jono.

[furnaceface]

Excuse Jono for just a moment, he needed to soak in that joy and pride and apply that feeling, that odd confidence that came from it all, to the task at hand.

Bone, a strong jaw. Pieces of him that were gone or in fragments, and the goal was to stitch those fragments together again and to build on them. He obviously wasn't going to finish tonight. It could be forever before something resembling a jawline existed again, but right then, it felt as though it was something actually within his grasp.

With the exception of the realization earlier that he had possibly committed stereo murder, today seemed to be a good day for ambition.

[sharp_as_knives]

What was wrong with a little murder, especially if something was being rude to you?

Ignorant of Jono's feelings on stereocide, Hannibal kept up the confidence and pride and the medical guidance - however far Jono got this evening, it was progress, even if only a few cells.

[furnaceface]

It was, and a few cells was probably all he'd be able to manage tonight, no matter how energized he was feeling right then. Up to now, most of what they'd been healing was skin and other soft tissue. Bone was something he really didn't have waking experience with. So tonight, he was going to take it slow, get a feel for how it worked. Even the bones themselves were more complex than just the shape of them. They had layers, had marrow and blood vessels and needed to fit into one another just so. There had to be cartilage to pad them...

Later, he'd probably wonder whatever became of Marrow. She'd never been a friend of his, but she had been with the Program back when he was. Possibly voluntarily. Probably not the best person to ask for advice on building bone from scratch, even if she was definitely the most qualified.

For now, he'd focus. Focus, and start easy. Repairs to the part of his upper jaw that had suffered the most damage. It wouldn't do to build a bottom jaw without putting back together the bone that it hinged to, and most of that was still there to work from.