While Hannibal might have been a stickler for schedules, given his meticulous nature and the way his work was revolved around scheduling patients, dinner was a different affair of sorts. He could always give an approximate time, but the dish would finish in accordance to it's own wishes, much like art or anything requiring creativity, sometimes the masterpiece took on a life that was unique. Cooking was like that. As it stood the fish was also taking it's time, but anything worth doing to perfection was worth getting it right without fail.
The house John found himself standing in the shadows of had a haunted appeal that was attractive in a way, but it was also imposing. True to Hannibal's classic tastes there was no doorbell so his guests were reduced to knocking and that was enough, with his fine tuned hearing had he been in the most remote region of his home he still would not have missed the door. It does take him a moment to answer, however, given how imperative it was that he set aside his tools appropriately before answering the door.
For his part Hannibal is tidy, well tidy would be an understatement, his presentation is so scrupulous if he wasn't wearing an apron it would be hard to tell that he'd even touched a fish much less was in the process of cooking one. From head to toe he was the perfect dandy who seemed to delight in finery, in his red dress shirt, vest, tie, trousers, and leather shoes. He smiles invitingly when the door swings open, only proper when you are a host receiving a guest.
"I'm afraid that beyond this point it's a no smoking environment," there isn't an ounce of reproach, it is very matter of fact, no judgment in him that could be noted. Hannibal's senses wouldn't be able to tolerate the smell of smoke and ash in his home there was no other reason than that, "but, Mr. Constantine, if you don't mind the momentary inconvenience I have a patio in back that should be more than suitable."
Hannibal hosted dinner parties, after all, people smoked and so he reserved his patio for those who did, complete with ashtrays.
John's used to people telling him note to smoke, so he doesn't put up much of a fight when he's told the house is a non-smoking environment. He takes one final long drag of the cigarette before flicking it down toward his feet, grinding out the last flicker of flame against the doorstep. Yet that is where the consideration stops as he makes no move to pick up the already forgotten butt from the ground.
He takes a moment to look over Hannibal's appearance, followed by what he can see of the interior of the house. Everything is incredibly formal, far more than what he is used to. While John's own house is sizable, it was inherited, and even then only holds so many books and artifacts due to being charmed on the inside. This was something different, earned and cultivated. Somewhere John feels like he doesn't entirely belong.
"Patio would be great, man. Wouldn't ruin the integrity of the fish or anything, would it? But before we go any further I'm gonna have to ask that you call me John. Don't know any Mr. Constantines."
Including his father. Thomas Constantine wasn't worth any kind of formal consideration either.
Discourtesy was not the most attractive of features to Hannibal, but there was a difference between habitual discourtesy and discourtesy that was conscious. Hannibal concluded that John was habitually discourteous, this wasn't a concentrated effort like displays of rudeness often afforded by the shameless Miss Lounds. She was only alive because Hannibal found her articles useful, regardless of how far she stretched the truth. This was only a minor prickling that could be dealt with later, nothing to act irrationally over and certainly not worth letting anything befall his curiosity.
John was his curiosity and potentially quite dangerous.
If asked Hannibal would certainly agree that he put a great deal of effort into his present living arrangements, but what people earned and what people deserved was entirely subjective to him. Hannibal wasn't born poor, he was born wealthy, that was part of the reason he got into Hopkins, that and his drawings, he had certain...advantages that others did not and they certainly weren't earned. Regardless he was very proud of his current arrangement and he enjoyed sharing it as he often did get lost in self-congratulations.
"A shame, Constantine is quite a palatable name, and yet so is John so I am left to defer to your wishes, but I must insist that you call me Hannibal," his accent is heavy given his Lithuanian heritage, but refined and he puts forth the effort to pronounce every syllable in both the name John and Constantine correctly, "and to answer your question, not at all, in fact the patio might offer a more thematic atmosphere. Please?"
It was an invitation and he led the way of course, not expecting John to know his way around, guiding him from the vestibule into the guts of the house, through hiskitchen where a symphony of aromas permeated the air, "I promised you a drink, did I not? Beer or wine?"
John allows himself to be lead through the house, doing nothing to mask his curiosity as he takes in his surroundings. He looks over both shoulders and overhead and makes mental notes of the house. He almost feels as if this was some kind of elaborate hoax to place him out of his element. At the mention of his name John grins in spite of himself. "I've never been one to be so formal, but keep my surname rolling off your tongue like that and I may change my mind, Hannibal."
He tosses his present company an easy grin, one meant to further serve in creating a relaxed atmosphere. Once in the kitchen he inhales deeply, taking in the aroma and warmth of the room. "I'd prefer beer, thank you. Not really cut out for knowing much about wine."
Looking at your gifs. Jeremy Davies was also in Hannibal, that is so meta.
The house John found himself standing in the shadows of had a haunted appeal that was attractive in a way, but it was also imposing. True to Hannibal's classic tastes there was no doorbell so his guests were reduced to knocking and that was enough, with his fine tuned hearing had he been in the most remote region of his home he still would not have missed the door. It does take him a moment to answer, however, given how imperative it was that he set aside his tools appropriately before answering the door.
For his part Hannibal is tidy, well tidy would be an understatement, his presentation is so scrupulous if he wasn't wearing an apron it would be hard to tell that he'd even touched a fish much less was in the process of cooking one. From head to toe he was the perfect dandy who seemed to delight in finery, in his red dress shirt, vest, tie, trousers, and leather shoes. He smiles invitingly when the door swings open, only proper when you are a host receiving a guest.
"I'm afraid that beyond this point it's a no smoking environment," there isn't an ounce of reproach, it is very matter of fact, no judgment in him that could be noted. Hannibal's senses wouldn't be able to tolerate the smell of smoke and ash in his home there was no other reason than that, "but, Mr. Constantine, if you don't mind the momentary inconvenience I have a patio in back that should be more than suitable."
Hannibal hosted dinner parties, after all, people smoked and so he reserved his patio for those who did, complete with ashtrays.
oh i didn't even realize!
He takes a moment to look over Hannibal's appearance, followed by what he can see of the interior of the house. Everything is incredibly formal, far more than what he is used to. While John's own house is sizable, it was inherited, and even then only holds so many books and artifacts due to being charmed on the inside. This was something different, earned and cultivated. Somewhere John feels like he doesn't entirely belong.
"Patio would be great, man. Wouldn't ruin the integrity of the fish or anything, would it? But before we go any further I'm gonna have to ask that you call me John. Don't know any Mr. Constantines."
Including his father. Thomas Constantine wasn't worth any kind of formal consideration either.
no subject
John was his curiosity and potentially quite dangerous.
If asked Hannibal would certainly agree that he put a great deal of effort into his present living arrangements, but what people earned and what people deserved was entirely subjective to him. Hannibal wasn't born poor, he was born wealthy, that was part of the reason he got into Hopkins, that and his drawings, he had certain...advantages that others did not and they certainly weren't earned. Regardless he was very proud of his current arrangement and he enjoyed sharing it as he often did get lost in self-congratulations.
"A shame, Constantine is quite a palatable name, and yet so is John so I am left to defer to your wishes, but I must insist that you call me Hannibal," his accent is heavy given his Lithuanian heritage, but refined and he puts forth the effort to pronounce every syllable in both the name John and Constantine correctly, "and to answer your question, not at all, in fact the patio might offer a more thematic atmosphere. Please?"
It was an invitation and he led the way of course, not expecting John to know his way around, guiding him from the vestibule into the guts of the house, through his kitchen where a symphony of aromas permeated the air, "I promised you a drink, did I not? Beer or wine?"
no subject
He tosses his present company an easy grin, one meant to further serve in creating a relaxed atmosphere. Once in the kitchen he inhales deeply, taking in the aroma and warmth of the room. "I'd prefer beer, thank you. Not really cut out for knowing much about wine."