sharp_as_knives | Hannibal's house, Wednesday

Hannibal rolled down his sleeves and nodded at the table. Everything looked to be in order for his little dinner. He'd made a slight variation on steak and kidney pie, with Yorkshire puddings, horseradish potatoes, and roast winter vegetables. And, since Jono would likely be far too busy to visit on Christmas day (Winsol no doubt meant a security nightmare above what it already was), Christmas pudding, one week early. It had been sitting for around a month, which should have been long enough, anyway.

Hopefully it would be a welcome break from the excessive work Jono was no doubt putting himself through, and they would have a chance to talk and share music again.

He had no doubts of Jono showing up - he'd sent a beautifully calligraphed invitation.

[OOC: For the one mentioned, though I suppose if anyone wants to drop by beforehand, why not?]

Current Mood: mellow
Current Location: 22 Phoenix Place

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

furnaceface

The calligraphy was cheating, Hannibal. And you knew it, didn't you? Send Jono something that was, unto itself, a work of art, and of course he had to respect it.

Of course, he also had an old cat under one arm, freshly traumatized with his first visit to a vet in his entire life, and was some odd mishmash between well-dressed and casual, because he was both exhausted and at a loss for how in the world he was supposed to dress for a solo dinner that was no doubt meant to con him out of Kaeleer so that he'd take a break once in a while.

The cat would probably be a surprise, huddled down in his carrier and staring out at the world with wide eyes, but Jono was already running late, and... well...

Hannibal liked animals, right?

Either way, Jono was ringing the doorbell and waiting, only looking slightly exasperated. So, better than usual!

From:

sharp_as_knives

Hannibal did indeed like animals, and not just for eating! And yes, he was fully aware of cheating, but since that seemed to be what it took...

He opened the door and allowed himself a bit of amusement at Jono's mismatched dress and accompanying cat. "I'm pleased you could make it, but I didn't specify a plus one, did I?" He stood aside to let them in.

From:

furnaceface

//Sorry,// Jono replied as he slipped inside. //I should've at least called to give you a heads-up, but I was already running late, and, gentle as Rinoa's dog is, this old chap doesn't much care for her and I didn't want to leave him in my apartment alone with Angelo and Joni.//

It seemed a tiny bit like a recipe for disaster.

//S'what I get for being a bleeding bloody heart,// he muttered. //A cranky cat who's finally had all his shots, and the only thanks he's got for me is the occasional growl from the back of his carrier.//

From:

sharp_as_knives

Hannibal peered into the carrier. "I would probably be cranky, too, after being poked and prodded by a stranger." The cat looked a bit unsettled and grumpy, true, but not aggressive. "I should still have some things here from the last time I had to cat-sit. Let me get a box set up, and you can set him free."

He headed for the closet and waved Jono at the cozy fireside end of the living room, where he'd set two leather chairs and a side-table that currently held the remote control for the stereo system. "Have a seat, and I'll be right back."

From:

furnaceface

//Thank you,// Jono replied, carrying the cat with him and taking a seat in one of the chairs. //You cat-sit often, mate? And they seem to do okay in here?//

No reason, really.

Jono opened the carrier door and held a hand in, trying to coax the old cat out again.

//He's not a bad cat, really,// he added, also for no particular reason, //but I might've bitten off a little more than I bargained for, grabbing him when I did.//

From:

sharp_as_knives

"The last time I cat-sit," Hannibal noted, setting a (very clean) litterbox in a corner, "it was because her owner was a snake." He gave Jono a pointed look. "But I have also let my teaching assistant keep his cat here from time to time. They don't seem to be much trouble, thankfully, apart from the fur."

He put the litter in the box (and the mat under it, and another around that, because he was not having the stuff tracked everywhere) and watched as Jono tried to coax the cat out. "It sounds as though there's a story behind him."

From:

furnaceface

Jono at least had the good grace to look chagrined as Hannibal pointed out the whole snake thing. He hadn't meant to turn into a venomous reptile! It just happened that way!

//There is, of course,// Jono sighed, giving up and just setting the open carrier on the floor. The cat would make his own way out of it sooner or later. //Belonged to a butcher in Sidra whose business was caught in an unexpected fire. No survivors but this lucky little bastard.//

For some reason, the cat looked startlingly unscathed for an old deaf animal whose home burned to the ground. Imagine that.

From:

sharp_as_knives

"Fortunate for him, then," Hannibal noted. He came over and leaned on the chair across from Jono. "How unexpected was this fire?"

He certainly wasn't judging, but he was very curious.

From:

furnaceface

Jono was very quiet for a moment before looking at Hannibal thoughtfully.

//Depends who you ask.//

The Butcher, for example, certainly hadn't been expecting it.

//You want more than that, I need you to swear to me that nothing leaves this room.//

From:

sharp_as_knives

Hannibal sat. "I would like to hear anything you're of a mind to tell me. Nothing leaves this room." He shrugged. "Should anybody ask it of me, I am perfectly willing to claim doctor-patient privilege." Or the Kaeleeran equivalent. He'd looked up those laws, too.

From:

furnaceface

Jono looked down at the carrier for a moment as a white-flecked grey cat nose started sniffing around the opening.

//You know, I wouldn't usually want to invoke that, not with you. But in this particular case...// He shrugged a little. //There are people who would have me stop doing something very important, if they were to find out. And I'm not of a mind to be talked out of it, all things considered.//

From:

sharp_as_knives

Hannibal nodded. "I reserve my own right to attempt to talk you out of anything I feel is ill-advised," he said.

From:

furnaceface

Jono just gave Hannibal one of those wry almost-smiles, just barely showing around the corners of his eyes.

//You'd have a hell of a time talking me out of this one, mate. It's all been for Karla's well-being, since she's without Craft at the moment. S'led to a fair amount of headaches and nosebleeds, though. And, apparently, a cat.//

He shrugged his shoulders, drumming his fingers once against the arm of the chair he was sitting in.

//Try keeping any of those things, cat included, a secret from Karla. S'been an adventure.//

From:

sharp_as_knives

"And she would want you to stop because of the headaches and nosebleeds. No other reason?" Hannibal asked. He didn't see Karla as the type to object to Jono doing violence in her name, but he thought he'd best make sure.

From:

furnaceface

//The headaches, the nosebleeds, the complete and utter destruction of anything I've ever hold morally dear,// Jono replied, looking toward the floor. //1984.//

From:

sharp_as_knives

Hannibal was smart enough to put those pieces into place. "You've been overextending yourself, using your abilities to determine who wishes her harm, and dealing with them. You feel there is no other way?"

Hannibal paused, but before Jono could answer, he spoke again. "Perhaps we should continue this discussion with food and beer?" he offered.

From:

furnaceface

Jono nodded a little, still looking down at the cat, who had ventured, now, to stick a cautious paw outside of the carrier.

//Food and beer,// he agreed with a nod of his head. //This is an excellent conversation to accompany with beer. I suppose most are, granted, but this...//

He could definitely use it, for this one.

From:

sharp_as_knives

"I have a very good home-brewed stout." Hannibal held his hand down briefly for the cat to sniff, then stood and headed for the dining room, squeezing Jono's shoulder in passing. "I won't be a moment."

From:

furnaceface

//Thank you,// Jono replied, watching Hannibal leave the room. He appreciated the breather, so to speak. A moment alone to gather his thoughts wouldn't go amiss, especially since this was hardly the only thing on his mind. The cat, at least, seemed to finally be getting to a point where he was more relaxed than Jono was, which was a pretty good sign, he supposed. After all, the cat really only had to worry about the wealth of new smells. Jono, meanwhile, was battling with his conscience, and no small amount of paranoia, and a whole lot of something big and terrifying besides.

... Jono was not having a simple time of things. Water? Still wet.

From:

sharp_as_knives

Hannibal got himself a nicely plated selection of food and a glass of beer, with a full bottle to refill it from. He took his time, giving Jono his moment, then carried the tray out to set on the table, being careful of the cat, who looked to be coming out of the carrier. "He's a brave thing, isn't he?"

From:

furnaceface

//He adapts impressively quickly to new surroundings,// Jono replied, reaching down to scratch the cat behind the ear. //Impressive, given the fact that he's stone deaf. But then, he was a shop cat, I suppose. He'd be used to people wandering in and out of his home at all hours of the day. New people, at least, he can wrap his head around. He was even fine with the vet, until she started poking at his teeth and sticking needles and thermometers and whatever else into him.//

And Jono? He was a soft touch, tempted to take anything in need in under his idiotic wing.

From:

sharp_as_knives

"Many people don't like going to the doctor, and they generally speak the same language," Hannibal pointed out. He sat back down and carefully reached down to stroke the cat once. then he settled into his chair and raised the glass of beer for a sip. "Where would you like to start?"

From:

furnaceface

Jono leaned back in his seat, stringing up a link between Hannibal's senses and his own and taking a moment to appreciate the flavour of the beer before speaking.

//You'd asked if there was no other option, or at least any that I could see,// he offered. //And the answer... frankly? Is no. Karla's still fairly new in her position as Territory Queen, and there's still no shortage of people looking to not only oust her, but to make an example of her. She is where she is in no small part because she was eventually accepted as an improvement on Hobart, but only after we exposed what had happened in Yllestad to the public. Even so, Glacia is full of Hobart sympathizers, people whose palms he greased well enough, or who loathe what Karla stands for, with her pushing for more rights for landens and acceptance for Black Widows.//

His eyes were carefully turned toward the cat, who was now wandering here and there, sniffing his way around the room.

//The trouble with weeding out Karla's most dangerous opposition is, for the most part, that there's no single united front. There are those who have worked for Hobart, there are those who resent that landens and the poor are being treated like human beings while the territory's aristos find the perks that they were never truly entitled to being whittled away by an upstart young Queen. There are those who used to make a living poaching Arcerians who have been forbidden from doing so entirely, those who think it's a perversion that a Territory Queen choose to carry a half-landen child and keep a landen Consort, and some who simply think they could do a better job. And they're everywhere. There's been one blatant attack on Karla's life already, just before she and Warren demonstrated how absolutely bloody brilliant they are by getting her knocked up, and every last piece of evidence we could use to persecute the mastermind behind the attempt was destroyed in one way or another.//

He spread his hands a little.

//Simply put, we've got no leads but what I can pluck right out of people's heads. We hear whispers, rumours of people who wish to do Karla ill meeting in the dark and plotting against her, and it's my job to sweep in and investigate, to follow whatever web of mental evidence I can find from there. And officially, our hands are tied. We can't risk that anybody will make a move on Karla now, and we can't let their plots become public knowledge without making martyrs of them, or encouraging copycat attacks while the Queen is without Craft and vulnerable. Hell, after the attack on Karla's life, I made a thorough sweep through the Estate itself, weeding out as many people who posed any sort of threat to her as I could. We let them go, came up with some bullshit excuse and gave them all handsome severance packages so there wouldn't be harder feelings than there really needed to be. I made a second sweep once Karla told her First Circle that she was expecting. That's... sort of where this began.//

From:

sharp_as_knives

"You checked the estate to make it as safe as possible, and then you checked the city for good measure, and now you continue checking as far as you're able," Hannibal guessed. "And it isn't as simple as finding hostility; many people may have hostile thoughts and never act upon them. So you've depth as well as breadth to contend with."

He drank a bit more beer, wondering if he could somehow get Jono fuzzy-headed while staying clear himself.

"In addition to the physical and mental strain of that, you've the difficulty of keeping it secret. And beyond that, you worry that looking into these people's minds is morally reprehensible, and that you are a bad person for doing so."

He took another drink and gave Jono a slight smile. "Have I missed stating anything?"

From:

furnaceface

//No, that's about the tall and short of it,// Jono admitted, running a hand through his hair. //Karla would try to put a stop to it in a heartbeat, not because those people don't deserve it, but because of what it's costing me. And thus far, only you, Morton, and myself know about the particulars.//

He shrugged.

//I've been spreading myself too bloody thin. I know that. Picking through heads by day. Assessing the threat. Acting as judge, jury, and executioner by night. I haven't gotten so far as to act on Orwellian 'thought crime' alone, we only act on those who have an active plot that they're in the process of executing, but the amount of those looking to take advantage of the window of a few months while the Ebon-Grey Queen is essentially helpless is...//

Jono shook his head, lifting a hand to rub at his temple.

//For Winsol, I'm thinking of giving Karla and Warren a plaque, awarding them first place for worst bloody timing in Kaeleeran history. I'll call it, 'The Glorious Sodding Idiot Award.'//