Dr Hannibal Lecter

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!]

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.]

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?]

Hannibal had mailed most of his presents to Glacia, but not everybody he knew was there.

( Other assorted presents, that got where they were going on time, really! )