Hannibal King (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} hellokittytat) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} pandemansion, |
Hannibal had enjoyed yesterday, and he really was enjoying today. He'd lazed about, watching old movies on the TV in his room, went and worked out, showered, and then lazed about some more. Oh fuck yes he could live like this forever.
However, his stomach demanded food. It demanded it now as it let out a long, low growl of hunger. Getting up he slipped on a pair of jeans, a wife-beater and his boots. Grabbing up his holster he slipped it on and put his guns in their proper place. Even though the silver haired man, whatever the fuck his name was, had given them a rule about not killing, Hannibal wasn't taking any chances. There wasn't any telling what was actually there in the mansion.
Shutting and locking his door behind him, he glanced at Yuna's door, and shook his head. No reason to look too needy. Sauntering by her door he made his way to the lower levels of the mansion. He didn't need his map today, he'd been down to the kitchen twice already so he knew the way.
Once down in the kitchen he smiled as he saw the food sitting there on the counter. A london broiled roast beef sandwich with all of the fixings. Except for onions. God he hated onions. He ate his sandwich as quickly as he could, he still had half of his movie to watch, and washed it down with a tall, cold glass of water. Once done, he pulled a paper towel from the roll and wiped his mouth, tossing the waste into the trashcan.
Patting his stomach he strolled out of the kitchen, and back to the foyer. His brow rose as he heard the gates creak open, and he canted his head to the side. Oh that was a sight for sore eyes right there. Or was it?
He eyed Abigail Whistler carefully, weighing out his options on her being there. On one hand, if the vampire population got out of control he'd have her asskickery on his side. But on the other hand she'd cockblock him worse than any male would by filling the women's heads with horrible lies about him.
Oh, he knew Abigail Whistler well.
Shaking his head and narrowing his eyes he started towards her. "Oh, no, no, no. Go back from whence you came!" He stepped up on the lip of the marbled fountain, pushing at Abigail. "I mean it. Dammit Whistler, I had a good thing going here and now...you're here." His gaze narrowed a little more at his Nightstalker comrade, but a smirk played on his lips. In all reality he was happy to see her, to know that she was alright. Not that she couldn't take care of herself, but they were family.
However, his stomach demanded food. It demanded it now as it let out a long, low growl of hunger. Getting up he slipped on a pair of jeans, a wife-beater and his boots. Grabbing up his holster he slipped it on and put his guns in their proper place. Even though the silver haired man, whatever the fuck his name was, had given them a rule about not killing, Hannibal wasn't taking any chances. There wasn't any telling what was actually there in the mansion.
Shutting and locking his door behind him, he glanced at Yuna's door, and shook his head. No reason to look too needy. Sauntering by her door he made his way to the lower levels of the mansion. He didn't need his map today, he'd been down to the kitchen twice already so he knew the way.
Once down in the kitchen he smiled as he saw the food sitting there on the counter. A london broiled roast beef sandwich with all of the fixings. Except for onions. God he hated onions. He ate his sandwich as quickly as he could, he still had half of his movie to watch, and washed it down with a tall, cold glass of water. Once done, he pulled a paper towel from the roll and wiped his mouth, tossing the waste into the trashcan.
Patting his stomach he strolled out of the kitchen, and back to the foyer. His brow rose as he heard the gates creak open, and he canted his head to the side. Oh that was a sight for sore eyes right there. Or was it?
He eyed Abigail Whistler carefully, weighing out his options on her being there. On one hand, if the vampire population got out of control he'd have her asskickery on his side. But on the other hand she'd cockblock him worse than any male would by filling the women's heads with horrible lies about him.
Oh, he knew Abigail Whistler well.
Shaking his head and narrowing his eyes he started towards her. "Oh, no, no, no. Go back from whence you came!" He stepped up on the lip of the marbled fountain, pushing at Abigail. "I mean it. Dammit Whistler, I had a good thing going here and now...you're here." His gaze narrowed a little more at his Nightstalker comrade, but a smirk played on his lips. In all reality he was happy to see her, to know that she was alright. Not that she couldn't take care of herself, but they were family.