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Rehearsal: Jekyll & Hyde, The Boards, Sunday Evening

Jonothon... was not actually holding his breath for a huge turnout at the rehearsal today. He understood that the holiday season had set in and a chunk of his cast and crew were probably off spending time with family, or something like that. That didn't mean that he wasn't going to hold out hope, here.

"If the island isn't messing with only me today," he said, sitting on the edge of the stage and holding up his hands, clad in a pair of mittens that he'd been grumpily tolerating since realizing this morning that they were stuck there, "then you're going to definitely want to be off-script today. I should be able to prompt you if you've forgotten any of your lines, but I would really rather not have to. This evening we'll be doing the blocking for act two, and next weekend is the closest thing to a dress rehearsal we're going to get, so we're cutting it ridiculously close as it is."

Seriously, he was kind of starting to sweat bullets, here.

"So, people. Places for act two. Murder, Murder."

[Open!]

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Tea. Lemon water. You know the drill, here.

And naturally, Hannibal had to bring his own contribution for Jono.

"Hannibal!" Jono greeted him with a smile and a nod of his head as he wandered over. Mostly, yes, to say hello, but also admittedly because he was curious what Hannibal had brought along today. "I want to thank you again for dinner on Thursday. It was really quite fantastic."

Well, he certainly couldn't have prepared anything like it.

"Thank you." Hannibal smiled back. "It was quite enjoyable for me as well. And, since you said you had no complaints about my tempting you at each rehearsal..." He held out the thermos.

Edited 2013-12-01 21:38 (UTC)

"You spoil me," Jonothon informed Hannibal, though he wasn't even bothering to bite back his smile as he accepted the offered thermos and did battle with the lid. Stupid mittens. "Thank you. So, what do I have the honour of tasting today?"

He'd probably find out once he got the lid off. But that would take a minute.

"Chocolate," Hannibal answered. "Not the thin stuff made from cocoa; this is meant to be sipped and savored. May I?" He held out his hands for the thermos again, seeing the hard time Jono was having with it. "I found when I cut the fingers from mine, they stayed gone," he suggested.

Jono handed the thermos back with a slightly wrinkled nose. Having someone open something for him was something he hadn't had to do in quite some time.

"I might have to go rummaging for a pair of scissors before the rehearsal actually begins, then," he noted, looking down at his mittens.

They were blue. Of course.

"You know, I can't remember the last time I've had proper chocolate done this way? Probably not since I lived in London, ages ago. Certainly not in the past few years." Because everything was powder here. Everything.

Hannibal could have offered him a scalpel, but since he didn't exactly have a good excuse to be carrying one, he'd let him find the scissors.

"It's much more difficult to find here," Hannibal agreed. "But there's little point in indulging you with things you can get anywhere, is there?" He smiled and handed back the thermos lid filled with chocolate.

"Thank you," Jono murmured, smiling his slightly sheepish thanks as he accepted the thermos lid. "And I suppose there's not. It's hardly an indulgence if it's something I can get my hands on all of the time."

He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and just stood there savouring the smell of the drink for a moment.

"I'm half wondering if I ought to be sitting down for this."

"If you like." Hannibal chuckled. "Although if you should fall, I am a doctor."

"Perhaps I'll risk it, then," Jonothon decided, before taking a sip.

It was definitely a credit to Hannibal's culinary skills that, even two years after re-gaining his sense of taste, Hannibal's offerings were still enough to make Jono a little weak in the knees. He didn't hit the floor, but there was definitely a hum of appreciation, and Jono took another slow inhale while he wrapped his mind around what he was tasting.

"Lord," he murmured once he had started to recuperate. "Keep bringing me things that taste like this and I might not survive the experience."

"In that case, I shall cease immediately!" Hannibal answered with a decisive nod.

"But I would die so happy," Jono laughed, clutching possessively to the thermos lid. "Really, I can think of worse ways to go!"

Don't deny him this one small joy, Hannibal!

Hannibal could think of worse ways, too. Much worse. Fortunately for them both, he liked Jono.

He dropped his serious pose and laughed. "Well, I'll make certain to bring my first-aid kit with me, then."

"So that I might live to taste your cooking another day," Jono agreed, still grinning a little as he took another mouthful of chocolate, with much the same reaction as his first.

This drink was clearly made of magic. Clearly.

"Something I most look forward to."

Hannibal nodded his thanks. "Are you planning on spending the holidays here? I don't generally do much for Christmas, but a small dinner with friends might be welcome."

"I haven't solidified anything yet, but I have some friends that I haven't seen in quite some time back in my own reality... I was thinking I might visit them over the actual break," Jono noted, thoughtfully. "Though I wouldn't let that deter you. Your Thanksgiving meal was really quite well-received. Even if I can't make it, I'm certain there will be people who are more than happy to attend."

"Perhaps," Hannibal answered. Or maybe he'd go to Paris or Florence over the break. Or to the hospital to visit Will.

"There are always more dinner parties," he said, smiling.

Pinkie had mittens on all four hooves. As such, she was gliding back and forth across the floor like a little kid who just discovered the lack of friction between socks and hard surfaces, letting out a (quiet and respectful to others' desire to talk) little "eeeeeeee" as she went.

She wasn't sure what the little nubby things were on the sides of her fun new non-removable seasonal socks, but she was perfectly happy to just roll with it.

[ooc: yeah, this took me three tries to post. >.<]

Edited 2013-12-02 00:23 (UTC)

Mercy was feeling a bit under the weather - or maybe just a bit blue. The days leading from her birthday up to Thanksgiving and Christmas were not filled with happy memories, so she was glad to have something to distract her. Which led to her being absolutely word and note perfect on her part.

She sipped on a cup of hot tea while she waited for the rehearsal to start.

[ooc: ~~Third~~ Fourth try lucky, maybe?]

Act two, from the script! So get into character and we'll run through the blocking, music and all!

Luckily, Hannibal was off script. He'd avoided the mittens until he was on the island, but now the things were there and wouldn't go away. At least they were a not-unpleasant burgundy.

He cut the finger and thumb parts off, and that seemed to stymie whatever it was producing them, so at least he was left with usable hands.

Cecil had learned all his lines just fine, so hopefully this would be okay. He'd sent Foucault off to play with Joni, then taken off his mittens so another pair showed up.

Then he'd put the first pair back on over them. What? It was cold!

All the effort, half the glory.

Billy was trying to take notes, but the mittens on his hands were not making it easy. Thankfully, many of his notes were for himself, so at least he'd likely be able to decipher them later.

He didn't have coffee. Why didn't he have coffee? Because he couldn't sort out his change wearing mittens today. That's why he didn't have his coffee.

Dammit, Fandom.

FH Advent is one of my favourite times of year. :D

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Rehearsal: Jekyll & Hyde, The Boards, Sunday Evening

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Rehearse!

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Backstage!

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Talk to Jono!

OOC!