fandomtownies | Conversational Lithuanian, Tuesday evening

Hannibal arrived at the community center with plenty of time to spare, found the classroom, and set out the food he'd made for the evening. One savory, one sweet, and a drink. Then he made sure there were signs up to direct the students and any drop-ins to where the class was.

Hannibal waited until a few minutes after the class time, just to make sure anybody that wanted to be here, was. He nodded and smiled at those who came in, then began.

"Sveiki atvykę. Which is to say, hello and welcome. For those of you I haven't met before, I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter. I'm a psychiatrist in Baltimore, and I am teaching cooking at the school. After one of this island's incidents last semester, it occurred to me that it might be useful to have somebody here able to speak the language of my childhood." He nodded at Jono ~~assuming he's there~~. "Possibly also to share a language with others that anybody seeking to do damage here is unlikely to understand. I'm pleased to see there is some interest in it.

"I think for this class I will bow to convention and ask for introductions. In addition to your names, please let me know if you have any knowledge of the language already, and what sorts of vocabulary you would find most useful."

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Hannibal might not be psychic, but he could tell when somebody was pulling an "I'm not worth it" attitude.

"You know how much I enjoy sharing my food with friends," he chided. "Please." He poured himself a glass of the krupnikas. "Do I need to do anything to help?"

//Nothing in particular,// Jono replied, shaking his head. //You might feel a brush against your mind, but that should be it. Just be prepared for that.//

A second later, he demonstrated with just such a brush, a tentative mental nudge, before he sought out taste, filtered it out from the rest, and clung to it.

It was...an odd sensation, but not too unpleasant. Hannibal kept part of his mind on it, curious, but most of his thoughts on the drink as he sipped it, concentrating on savoring each note and flavor. If he was going to do this, he was going to experience each sip and bite to the best of his abilities.

And Jono was going to appreciate the fact that Hannibal understood just how to savour something, his eyes shutting as the flavour filled a mouth he didn't have.

//What did you say this drink was...?//

It certainly wasn't his alcoholic beverage of choice, but it was pleasant.

"Krupnikas," Hannibal answered. "Honey and spices with grain alcohol. A warm drink for a cold night."

He took one of the cepelinai and cut off a bite. "The name of these - cepelinai - means 'zeppelin'. Because of their shape. I prefer the meat to the cheese, myself." He ate a bite slowly, again taking time to note every facet of the flavor.

//I always did enjoy meat a little more mysel-oh.// So, that was Jono, getting distracted by taste again. //Oh. Hello.//

It hadn't been long since his last meal. Really, it hadn't. A few weeks. But food that would have been a pleasant treat then was practically divine, now. It helped that his mind was still torn between memories of the body he'd had for the past two years, and a lifetime where he'd never lost his powers in the first place.

It made for an interesting split. And a far more appreciative taste experience.

As much as Hannibal enjoyed sharing his cooking with people, he was somewhat hampered by the fact that few people truly could appreciate it. Sharing it this way, being able to ensure that his audience missed nothing, was especially gratifying.

The noises Jono seemed to indicate he was enjoying it, too.

Jono could sit back and let people taste things for him all day. Tapping into someone else's senses this way would get tiring after a while, but the trade-off was fantastic. And Hannibal took the time to savour what was on his tongue in a way that nobody else who shared with him ever had. What he would have simply tasted were it Karla eating for him, with Hannibal, he experienced.

It was difficult not to send little bursts of appreciation along the link he had strung up between them. Coherent speech, on the other hand, was going to take a lot more focus than he had.

There were definite advantages to being a gourmand. Hannibal was enjoying Jono's appreciation at least as much as the food. He sipped his drink again and then took some of the spurgos.

He smiled at Jono before he took a bite; credit where it was due. "I trust you know this is a treat for me as well."

//I...// Huh. Words. That was a sweet thing. There was a sweet thing in his mouth. Hannibal's mouth. The mouth that was currently on loan courtesy of Hannibal, and it was amazing.

Jono wouldn't resort to keeping Hannibal around for that thing he could do with his tongue, but the thought was there.

//Y-yes. I can... feel that.//

Look! Sentences!

It was called "tasting", Jono; there was no need to be vulgar.

Not that Hannibal didn't have a very talented tongue.

The spurgos really was quite good.

Conversational Lithuanian, Tuesday evening

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