Dr Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal had definitely figured out it was one of those days. He wasn't exactly the type to break into song about his ingredients otherwise. He was hardly going to let a little singing get in the way of a dinner party, though; he'd been planning and cooking, and after all, there was only so much singing they could do while they were actually eating.

He hoped Kanan and his friend weren't the type to sing with their mouths full, anyway.

[OOC: Expecting a few, but open if you like!]

Despite the last-minute change of venue - when they'd finally found a date that worked, the contractors had run into snags at the Boards, and they'd ended up in Jono's world, at a banquet hall in Westchester that it had taken all of Hannibal's persuasion and Jono's reputation to get them - they were set up beautifully. The place was wood-panelled, and decorated in rich fabrics of black and light grey offset by twists of saffron and dark yellow roses. Candles (electronic ones) flickered at the ends of each row of seats that had been set up.

( The dining room had been set up in the same colors as the main hall... )

[OOC: It's their wedding day! Free to attend for anybody who thinks they might have gotten an invitation, or even those who might not have.The more, the merrier! Portalocity will make it easy for you, since they're hell-bent on making Hannibal happy. There will be hijinks within, naturally. We couldn't resist. Preplayed with the lovely and wonderful furnaceface, vdistinctive, atreideslioness, and that_oldsaying!]

Arrivals | Hannibal's dressing room | Jono's dressing room | The ceremony | BUT THEN! | Aftermath | OOC

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!]