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Jonothon Starsmore furnaceface
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The Groovy Tunes (And Beyond), Saturday Morning
Another Saturday, another bout of strange something sweeping over the island. Jono could feel it at the back of his head, like a bunch of little ants marching one-by-one (hurrah, hurrah), and it was pretty much confirmed for him when he turned on the radio and the only songs he could get the stereo system to play were intended for small children.

He squinted out the window to see just what the damage was out there, and then he ever so casually reached over to flick his "open" sign off before pulling out his guitar to play something that didn't come from a "Best of The Wiggles" album.

Bloody hell, Fandom.

Well, all that work teaching Lithuanian, and it looked as if Hannibal wouldn't need it this time around. Which was just as well, really; he had other plans. Nefarious plans.

He wondered if he should have brought a sedative. If it would have even worked. Then, with a mental shrug, he ignored the lack of "open" sign and pushed the door open. "Ah, you've missed this bout as well, I see." He nodded to the (thankfully) adult Jono.

Jono had been knocked out in the past, though it was really anyone's best guess if a sedative would do the trick. Especially when it came to the business at hand.

//Fortunately,// he agreed with a nod of greeting as he looked up to see Hannibal coming through the door. //I was a bloody rotten child. The island probably figured out that it would be a terrible idea to regress me that far and decided to torment me with nursery songs, instead.//

"A fate worse than death," Hannibal agreed in commiseration. "How would you like to leave it behind for the weekend, then?" Maybe this would be easier than he'd thought. Maybe Jono would come along quietly.

Right after he'd decided to grow out his chest hairs, probably.

//Leave it behind? You've got something in mind, have you?//

Run, Jono.

"A very nice hotel room with a very good view, and no children's songs. Or children, come to that." Which was very true.

//...Simple as that, hm? I'll admit I'm tempted.//

"Not quite that simple," Hannibal allowed. "There will also be food to share, and a few other things to do. But it should prove much more enjoyable than babysitting all weekend."

Jonothon gave Hannibal a bit of a side-eye at that, but he shrugged his shoulders all the same.

//I'm getting the feeling that there's some sort of catch,// he noted, clearly having actually met Hannibal before, //but if that catch doesn't involve wiping snotty noses, what the hell, I'm in.//

"It had better not," Hannibal answered with a slight moue of distaste. Then he smirked. "In that case, we have a portal waiting." He waved Jono toward the door.

The portal dropped them off in a discreet corner of their hotel, and Hannibal took a moment to orient himself and look for the rest of their party.

He also kept an eye on Jono until the portal was fully closed. Just in case he decided to bolt.

One member of the party was there, at least, in crisp white Armani and flouting any 'white after Labor Day' nonsense as she tapped away at her PDA, ignoring everyone else in the hotel bar lobby.

Look, work and school didn't stop just because it was Saturday. But being asked to wrangle Jono? That she would work into her schedule.

"Ms Frost." Hannibal smiled and held out his hand to her. "Thank you so much for your assistance."

"Doctor Lecter, a pleasure," Emma replied, rising to take his hand. "I'm always happy to assist with humanitarian intervention."


Jono was getting that feeling that he was in way, way over his head.

//... Intervention?//

It wasn't too late for him to get another portal out of here, was it?

Jono, whenever Emma Frost is involved you are in over your head. Did Generation X teach you nothing?

"Denying that you need help is one of the primary signs that you need an intervention," Emma sang cheerfully, pocketing her PDA. "--and before you start fretting, I'm telepathically helping everyone in a six block radius. They're aware we're here, and can speak and interact with us, but I'm blocking their ability to understand there's anything interesting about us whatsoever."

"Except for the fact they must get out of our way. I loathe holiday tourists."

It was, yes, Jono. Far, far too late.

"No snotty noses, I promise," Hannibal said. Which meant you were in; you'd given your word. "Apparently the island has turned people into children," he explained to Emma. "The promise of a weekend away from that was all it took to get him here."

Well, the promise of time away from it. Hannibal hadn't actually said it was an entire weekend, had he? Nor had he mentioned much else about it.

"And thank you for that; I detest the rudeness of such crowds."

//I think I hate you both a little,// Jono mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. //What sort of intervention are we talking about, here? Do I at least get to know that?//

"If you didn't hate me at least a little, I'd think you'd been brainwashed again." EMMA, MEAN. "The good Doctor Lecter informed me that you needed to de-stress, and while I'm half-convinced it's impossible to pull the world's pain off your shoulders, Atlas, I agreed to help."

Jono's wrinkled nose said volumes about what he thought of that. And about how right he was conceding they both were.

//I wonder if, perhaps, my idea of de-stressing is very different from yours.//

Yes, Jono. Their methods for de-stressing actually worked. If 'Chamber' ever got old and 'Decibel' still wasn't an option, he might want to consider 'Atlas' as a new codename.

"I imagine there's sufficient overlap to make this not unpleasant," Hannibal answered a bit dryly. "However, taking care of yourself also involves taking good care of yourself. Even if you may not be accustomed to it." Or think you deserve it.

"Or think you deserve it," Emma chimed in, because she was helpful like that, and not above poking at Jono's self-esteem issues. "You'd be shocked at how therapeutic a good massage can be."

Jono looked more than a little uncertain about that plan, yes.

//Might that shock have something to do with the fact that I can't exactly walk into a massage parlour, or wherever the hell they do these things, and peel off my shirt?// Yes, Emma had already said that she was going to take care of that today, but that wasn't going to stop him from pointing out that he didn't typically have that option. //Nor am I exactly inclined to try, I might add.//

Emma was giving you massive side-eye Jono. Seriously? He always had the option for her to mindwipe people for him.

"Firstly, massage is not just your torso," she informed him, starting to tick off things on her fingers. "That's just Doing It Wrong. Plus, there's also manicures, acupuncture, a proper haircut which is not taking a weed-wacker to your head..."

"Also a tailor, for properly fitted clothes. And your lack of inclination is precisely why we aren't giving you an option," Hannibal pointed out. Because he was also helpful like that. "For this weekend, you are at our mercy."

And then, because he wasn't a total shit...well, yes he was, but he also didn't want Jono bolting... "I promise to keep it as painless as possible."

//As possible? How painful does this get?//

Jonothon hadn't had a massage, or even been the faintest bit relaxed since about as long back as he could remember. That part was probably going to smart, actually.

//You know, there are certain situations where I'm quite happy to be at another person's mercy, but...//

"I'm acquainted with some of them, yes." And he might not even be above bribing you with them, Jono. "While you may not enjoy all of this quite as much, if you stick through the first parts and give it your best effort, I think you will find it worth your while. How painful it is depends mostly on you."

"It wouldn't be painful at all if you'd take care of yourself with me needing to intercede," Emma pointed out. "He may keep it as painless as possible, but I won't."

"If you whine too much, I will make you come to work with me. If you think this is pain, wait until you try balancing the Club's budget for the Saturnalia Ball."

Jono could think of a good many things he'd rather do than balance the books for the Hellfire Club, Emma.

//... I just want you both to know that you're terrible people,// Jono intoned, shoulders sagging a little. He was defeated, at least for the moment. //Where do we start, then?//

"Duly noted." Hannibal nodded gravely. He checked his watch. "We wait for the rest of our party, and then we head to the tailor. They'll need time to get things ready, even on an urgent schedule."

"From that, I take it you've finished breaking the news to Jono?" Karla asked, strolling up to the group arm-in-arm with Raven, still a little green around the edges of her insouciant smile. Teleporting was still a bit rough on her stomach. "And he's still here."

Yeah, she was pulling out her wallet and fishing out a fifty. Damn it, Jono. "In fairness, when we made the bet, I didn't realize the island was going to conspire to against me."

That would be Emma taking Karla's money, oh yes. "And that's what you get for thinking I'd have to rely on telepathy to make people do what I want. I can be charming without it," she said, pocketing her loot. "Especially when I'm right."

"In fairness, I ought to make you pay double for doubting me."

"As if fairness has anything to do with the way you operate," Karla laughed, letting the fifty go with good grace. "Though I never thought you'd resort to telepathy."

Not with Jono, no.

She assumed bribery, coercion, and manipulation, yes, but not telepathy.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. "In fairness, neither of you brought him here." And all of the above might be on the table, since he didn't have telepathy.

"But as we're all here now, shall we make our way to the tailor?"

//Please, let's just get this over with,// Jono muttered, giving all four of them a 'you've all betrayed me' look. How could you do this to him too, Raven? //It's still marginally better than snotty noses. For the time being.//

After doing a quick check on Karla to make certain the teleport hadn't caused any issues (though it was, in her opinion, much safer than a portal), Raven wandered over to Jono's side and bumped her shoulder against his.

"You do not spend enough time relaxing and treating yourself," she said with a wicked grin. And by "enough" she meant "none at all." "So we have taken it upon ourselves to make certain you do. You are going to be very spoiled today, whether you wish it or not."

//It is not too late for me to go nuclear and just reconstitute my body later,// Jono grumbled, though he swayed a bit with the shoulder bump and gave her a quirk of a smile around the corners of his eyes. He was just complaining now on principle, really. //I'm certain I'd feel good and refreshed then.//

Until he blew his face off again, anyway.

"I doubt the hotel would look kindly on that, and I've no intention of you spending your time here doing Emma's books." Exploding definitely counted as whining, Jono. "Why don't we head to the tailor as a less messy option?"

[OOC: NFI, establishy, and everything after the portal is NFB for distance! Preplayed with all those lovely people within, and coded up by never_dull!]