Dr Hannibal Lecter

Despite Hannibal's former office well on its way to being converted to a workout room, Jono had gone out running today. Since it generally took him a while, Hannibal had decided it would be the perfect time for a very personal meal.

After his run, Jono had worked out. And then headed for the sauna. Hannibal sent him a bit of amused approval as he plated his lunch, then let him have his time alone - his wrappings hadn't gone back on in over a week now, but he had needed a bit more decompression time after returning home. It was a work in progress.

Meanwhile, he was going to enjoy his pot au feu - marrow bones to one side with some very good salt and toasted baguette slices, tender meat sliced thin with vegetables arranged nicely among the slices, and just a bit of mustard and horseradish swirled in.

Bon(e) appetit was probably too obvious a pun, wasn't it? Never mind, then.



[OOC: WARNING - CANNIBALISM. Contents of Hannibal's meal (and thus the discussion about it) very much NFB.]

Jono was out ferrying announcements around, and Hannibal was posting the information to their friends who used social media. Somehow it seemed that in the time since last night, Jono had miraculously once more forgotten how to use the internet.

So, Hannibal posted things - which took all of half an hour - and then set about having a quiet day indoors.

For values of "quiet" that included Beethoven growling at Joni every time she wanted to play with his tail.



[OOC: Open post!]

Hannibal's impulse was to have a huge party and plan an entire menu and drinks menu for it; any excuse. But after spending their vacation in the quiet (if cold) arctic circle, then continuing to relax as much as possible, Hannibal was disinclined to undo all of that work by insisting on a crowd for New Year's Eve.

So, a quiet evening in, with the cats and each other and a glass of very good champagne.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, Hannibal stretched out on the couch and smiled at Jono. "Well?"



[OOC: For the one mentioned, but open, why not? I'm up for interrupted evenings.]

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.]

After yesterday's incidents and another night of nightmares, Hannibal was wary, a knife staying with him instead of a scalpel, and he was keeping his eyes open for anything new.

( Cut for Hannibal S2 spoilers and general Hannibalness )

Tristan stirred and his subconscious registered a soft surface under him. He woke, his hand going to his knife, but there didn't seem to be any immediate danger. He was in a very soft...bed?

He frowned. It was warm, and soft, and there was firelight at his back, but where was he?

Hannibal woke, yawned, stretched, and stumbled out of bed. He didn't remember where he was, but it seemed okay. He rubbed his eyes blearily as he glanced around, then headed downstairs.

Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any cooks or other workers here. Well, he could manage himself. Probably.

He opened the refrigerator, pulled up a stool, and got out eggs and butter and a pan. He could do this!

How much butter did you put in eggs?


[OOC: Open post!]

Hannibal had worn wolf ears Saturday night. Jono had been fairly insistent, and Hannibal had used the opportunity to extract a promise.

Now he was going to extract his revenge.

It began with this: silk rope and an evil look.


[OOC: For the one! Probably shall go NSFW.]

After the trip, Hannibal and Jono were having a pleasant and low-key day in. Which mostly consisted of being alternately ignored and mobbed by cats. And doing a lot of laundry.

Outside, the flamingos were glittering in the sun.


[OOC: You can always drop in if you like, but mostly here for your glittery flamingo scavenging needs!]