Dr Hannibal Lecter

Jono had been handling the latest of the island's whims fairly well, but it was obvious that he'd needed a bit of time regardless. Not that Hannibal minded the massages and the food-sharing.

Eventually, however, they were going to have to discuss the yet another wedding plan, this one as minimalist as possible, that had gotten, to use his (still) fiancé's parlance, totally buggered.

And as Jono had made it to class Wednesday, Hannibal thought that the time might be now.

Between his cracked ribs, wrenched leg, and bruised...everything...it took a while longer for Hannibal to get home than usual, even with Jono helping.

Well, at least they had dinner already made, thanks to Eliot. And the time spent wrapped so close to Jono did give him time to soak in Hannibal's calm, which would hopefully help. Along with the aches and pains he was feeling, unfortunately; Hannibal had considered attempting to hide them, but he rather thought Jono wouldn't thank him for that.

Luckily, there was a full bath on the lower level, since that seemed to be where Hannibal was grounded to.

He wasn't bothering to hide his amusement at being grounded, either. Even if he suspected it rather defeated the purpose.

"Am I entitled to towels after my soak?"

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

After numerous false starts, a (metric) ton(ne) (depending who you were asking) of planning, and only a little bit of veiled threatening of vendors, they had finally gotten to this point, which required manual labor. And Hannibal had no plan of doing it on his own.

So, he set the boxes on his desk, along with a list and two fountain pens, and called, Jono?

Hannibal had done his research, gotten samples and photo files and quotes, and had narrowed it all down to a number of possibilities for engagement announcements. Simply posting it in the papers as was traditional would have been simpler, but given the number of cities, worlds, and times to cover, and the potential for some of them not being covered at all, this was the only way to ensure they missed nobody.

Now he just had to pin down Jono.

Possibly literally.



[OOC: For the one mentioned, but open to whatever!]