To see an opera

[sunbaked_baker]

(Up in her room, Rae gets ready.)


When Sunshine comes down the stairs, today, she may not look wholly like herself. The baker is usually seen in the bar wearing bright t-shirts or sweaters, with colorful jeans and sneakers, her hair up in a ponytail or held back by a likewise colorful kerchief. One colorfully casual customer.

Today her hair is down, tumbling about her scarred shoulders in loose waves of red, and what she wears is not her normal style at all.

She takes care with her steps, and not just because of the silver heels that grace her feet. As she moves down the stairs, Rae consciously straightens her spine against the fluttery nervous feeling in her stomach, and hopes it will soon pass.

This is going to be an enjoyable outing. Rae refuses to let her feelings of self-consciousness mar it.



(ooc: Sunshine will likely be out of the bar for a while after this, so any and all threads are welcome, but will be millitimed to before her thread with Hannibal Lecter.)

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter walks through one of the arches that lead away from the foyer, into a short passage that opens into a dining room.

The walls are done in cobalt blue moulding; one wall is covered with a hanging herb garden and papered with an enlarged art print of twisted trees, and over the mantle, there is a lush rococo nude. Horns and spiky flowers dominate the arrangement.

[sunbaked_baker]

The herb garden is what catches her eye first as Sunshine steps into the room, bringing a soft smile to her face, the dark greens of fragrant foliage, their shadows edged in glimmering emerald, blending into the mural of stark tree branches above. The table is the centerpiece, rich, solid wood of beautiful quality. The cobalt-blue walls in their curves and layers cast many shadows, allowing her eyes to skip past the antlers and horns that again feature in the decorations. But her gaze soon stops, caught.

Over the mantle. As though to make sure she's looking at what she thinks she's looking at.

The smile fades into a look of bemusement at the painting, with its languid, inviting central figure and the intent swan.

"... Odd choice for a dining room," she says diplomatically, after a moment, though there are shades of Wait... really? in her tone and expression.

[cook_the_rude]

"How very perceptive of you to notice," Dr. Lecter says. "Most people simply notice that it's rococo, and must be boring. Others ogle it in silence and don't dare to speak up."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Really?" Rae breathes, amazed. "No one comments on it?"

She doubts she could pick rococo out of a lineup of art movements, but she would still see what's been painted in each piece, at least.

[cook_the_rude]

"Hardly anybody ever," Dr. Lecter says. "A slightly unpleasant acquaintance openly ogled it lately, that is all."

[sunbaked_baker]

Though she tries, Rae cannot completely contain the urge to roll her eyes at the idea of someone unabashedly ogling the painting. Wow. How... ugh.

"Of course," she says, dry. Sunshine lets her gaze move back to the herb garden, something much more to her tastes, as though to get that bad taste out of her mouth and mind.

[cook_the_rude]

"You're welcome to touch the herbs if you like, or taste a leaf," Dr. Lecter says. "They're all safe."

[sunbaked_baker]

Faint smile returning, Rae takes that invitation, wandering forward to enjoy and investigate.

"I've never seen some of these before. Others, only dried, or in stores," she says, leaning slightly to inhale the spicy-sweet scent of a ginger plant in bloom. The lemongrass gives her a moment of pause before she breaks off a small tip of one of the leaves, and tastes it. Ah.

[cook_the_rude]

"I try to have everything fresh and at hand," Hannibal says. "It's annoying to suddenly realise at three AM that I have no tulsi."

[sunbaked_baker]

There are multiple types of tarragon she recognizes, and she takes a tiny bit of a leaf from each, to smell their differences while the others are fresh on her mind. "I've felt that, or similar. Running out of cinnamon half an hour before closing, while preparing the cinnamon rolls for the next morning."

[cook_the_rude]

"Unfortunately, that's not so easily grown in a mere dining room," Dr. Lecter says.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Or gotten in the hours when the spice shops are closed," Rae smiles, wryly, stepping back along the rows of herbs. "Our baking supply order that week had been delayed by an ice storm. Only lucky that we had fewer customers at the time for the same reason - half of the cinnamon rolls ended up as giant date-and-pecan sticky buns."

[cook_the_rude]

"I'm sure they were very delicious," Dr. Lecter says, "but it just wouldn't have been the same."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Those customers who got in after we ran out of what few cinnamon rolls there were coped admirably with the disappointment," Sunshine says, fond of her people.

"I should branch out and try my hand at growing more herbs at home," she says, returning. "They might be happy on my balcony - it gets sun most of the day."

Of course it does.

[cook_the_rude]

"Would you like to have seedlings and cuttings from mine?" Hannibal offers.

[sunbaked_baker]

Her gaze finds his, her smile warming at the unexpected offer. "That would be wonderful, Dr. Lecter."

She rarely has luck with new houseplants bought from stores. The only ones currently in her apartment were gifts from Yolande, whose green thumb was second only to her wardcrafting skills, in Rae's opinion.

"So long as it wouldn't be too much trouble, though."

[cook_the_rude]

"I'll bring you a box to the bar," Dr. Lecter promises. "It's no trouble at all."

[sunbaked_baker]

"You've already done so much for me, though. I feel as though I'm taking advantage."

Even though everything is what has been offered, rather than asked for.

[cook_the_rude]

"But Rae," Hannibal says, "I would do anything for my favourite baker."

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae has to look away, though the faint smile is still there.

"I appreciate that, I do," she says, in the vague direction of one of the flower arrangements. "You're a very generous friend, Dr. Lecter."

She is just not used to such generosity. A dress and shoes that cost more than she makes in a month. Tickets to see an opera as well as the opportunity to attend. It has been a very sudden, full day.

[cook_the_rude]

"I try to be," Hannibal says. "Would you like to wait here for a moment, or come to the kitchen while I prepare our snack?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"I'll come with," she replies with a faint broadening of her smile. If the kitchen is anything like the rest of the house, he thinks she would choose to miss it?

[cook_the_rude]

The kitchen is spacious and very well equipped, with shiny brushed steel appliances, an island in the middle, large windows, ample wooden cabinets, and even a chair, near the door, where visitors can make themselves comfortable to watch Hannibal cooking.

"Would you like another glass of wine?" he asks, opening the fridge and taking out containers.

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae steps through, and drifts towards the island at the middle of the kitchen, her gaze caught by her surroundings.

"I'm fine, thank you," she says, almost absently, looking around. Large, double-door fridge for extra space without sacrificing utility, an obviously top-of-the-line gas range, sizable ovens and broilers set into the wall - Rae can tell quality even without being familiar with the brands - and as much counter space as one could ever need. Moveable preparation tables in case one should need more. Smooth tainless steel shines upon various surfaces, catching the shine from the lights set under the upper cabinets and the soft light from above, and reflecting it back every which way in indistinct shapes.

"....Though I may be running into the problem of how one goes about stealing someone's kitchen," she says, obviously impressed.

[cook_the_rude]

"... one cabinet at a time?" Dr. Lecter says, smiling at her as he takes down two small plates, pulls a knife from the knife block, and cuts open an avocado.