Dr Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal was enjoying the weekend so far; Angela was always a treat, and their new child, Samar, was interesting as well. And he always enjoyed meeting other people's potential children as well; Helena was amusing, and he was looking forward to seeing her with Karla and Leto.

For now, he was doing one of the things he did best - cooking for everybody, with Angela as sous chef. He'd sent another text reminding everybody that his kitchen was open, and set about making plenty of food and coffee.


[Open post! Breakfast for everyone!]

Hannibal had gotten a tax rebate.

In a currency he had no idea the origin of.

So, he was spending quite a bit of time on the phone to the bank today, trying to figure it out.

Apart from that...hm. Would it be worth it to attempt his own wine, when he could get perfectly decent vintages from so many other worlds? Perhaps a cider or something. Or he could work on some vinegars. He needed a project.


[Open post!]

[ETA WARNING: Sparkle's thread includes description of child/domestic abuse.]

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!]

Hannibal smoothed down his lapels - burgundy with a lighter pinstripe - and tweaked his gold tie and pocket square into position.

"Well?" he asked with a smirk.( Read more... )

[Preplayed with the awesome furnaceface! NFB once they're in London, due to distance.]

So, because Hannibal loved being nosy people-watching like a train wreck helping people through their traumas (and a good excuse to cook), he'd decided on a dinner party for tonight. He'd even put up signs.

And then he'd cooked. A lot.

There were crudites, assorted styles of bruschetta, several different meats (all of them non-sentient), a number of desserts, and numerous bottles of wine, beer, and liquor.

And if fewer people showed up than he hoped, it just meant some homeless shelter would eat very well.

There were also darts, billiards, and a card table downstairs, and if people wanted to start their own games, well..."Never had I Ever" would probably get Hannibal very drunk, but that was neither here nor there.



[Open post! Come and party your dead-people's trauma away!]

The knock came later than most would be visiting, but this being Fandom, it would hardly be the strangest thing.

When Hannibal opened the door, though...

He blinked.

Abigail smirked. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Hannibal rallied. "I'm surprised you didn't find a window to climb in."

"Didn't look." She shrugged. "It's winter; figured they'd be closed up tight."

The silence was slightly awkward, and it was Abigail that broke it again, though she sounded a bit less certain now. "So...can I come in? Kind of a waste of a visit otherwise."

Hannibal stepped back and waved her in, the pieces clicking into place. "It's that whim of the island's, then." He should have guessed, but it wasn't the first time he'd dreamed of Abigail. He closed the door behind her and took her hand. "It is good to see you."

Abigail let him pull her a bit closer, but she scowled. "Whose fault is it you can't?" She tucked her head into his shoulder and held on.

Hannibal sighed and kissed the top of her head. "Entirely mine, my dear. So, the weekend, then? Where shall we start?"

They had gotten (finally! officially!) married on Friday, but the precise portal they needed, due to the nature of it, could not be scheduled until Sunday, despite even Hannibal's best persuasion. Well, at least they had time to pack.

Which was made somewhat more difficult when all of your shirts had become hideous holiday sweaters. Hannibal was wearing one, and packing some of the others based on his memory of what they had been and hopefully would be tomorrow. He was very glad he kept an organized closet.

"Don't worry about all-weather gear," he told Jono, "just what you would normally wear in Spring or Autumn here, and a jacket for layering in case it's chilly."


[Expecting the one!]

Anyone who thought Hannibal wasn't going to celebrate things being back to normal by bathing, getting a manicure, dressing his best, playing the harpsichord, and then cooking just about everything in the pantry really didn't know him.

Of course, all that food needed an audience, didn't it?

So, flyers were going up all day long (courtesy of NPCs other people):

Come eat, drink, and relax while the world's not ending!
22 Phoenix Place, tonight

Because some others might want to talk or just be together and reassure themselves things were better.

And some people coped by cooking.



[Open post! No OCD. Moddable food, but tons of it, along with plenty to drink for those that need it after last week.]

With all the extra guests in the house this weekend, it was a good thing they had so many bedrooms. And this morning, most of them would undoubtedly be taken up by disgruntled and/or embarrassed teens and adults. There was only one thing to do for it, really.

Make breakfast again.

Fortunately, Hannibal tended not to sleep much.


[Open to anyone who wants to say they stayed over, and anyone who wants to drop by!]

Sent to friends of Hannibal and Jono:

( wedding invitations )

Sent to pretty much everybody (except Anakin Skywalker):

( Halloween party invitations )

[OOC: There will be a wedding! It won't be happening. Then there will be a Halloween party! It will be good - everybody's invited!]