infomodder | IC contact [Mask or Menace]

He's being looked for, no doubt about that.

[What he really means is hunted, but shh.]

I want to do something to help.

[ Armin's message plays back in her head. Protect this world. ]

[Don't they all. But...]

What do you think you could do to help in this, Sasha?

[It's not rhetorical, dismissive, not a subtle jab that she doesn't have any skills to apply to this situation, not at all. It's an honest question.]

[A wry smile perks when Will begins to lists the cliches associated with scientists and doctors. All true things; all terms that he has been accused of being by his detractors. He intentionally keeps that guard up because it's the easiest way to go on. Especially in a world where the people may as well be museum dummies, all long gone in his eyes, oh but he does care. That's just the one thing he so rarely can ever let on. It's just that his care is selective and picked with careful caution.

Getting attached is just too messy. He can cut a thread, but he doesn't like feeling something when he does it.

When the fries get nudged over his eyes flick up to Will for a moment, a silent ask if he's sure, and then takes a couple between his thumb and index fingers. His own small basket of fries is just about gone, but he's not full and he can tell when he bites into them and has to restrain from beginning to binge himself on them. Never really satisfied in his hunger and if he eats too fast it might look strange. Appearances have to be kept up when people are watching. Once he swallows he speaks again.]

Types are just the easiest way people categorize the world around them. I don't particularly care for it either, but even I fall prey into using them before I think twice. It's not something I'm proud of. [He cants his head and puts a hand to his chin.] Maybe that's just the problem in the end. We put someone into a type and we expect them to meet all those qualifications. When that doesn't happen, we feel betrayed. It's not pleasant, but you can't quite blame that on the person you categorized in your own head.

[Maybe that's why everyone got so upset when they learned the truth and couldn't quite forgive him. They were expecting what he wanted them to and couldn't live with what the reality is.]

Helping to capture Dr. Crane... something.

[Something. Oh boy. His voice drops a little, gentle instead of dismissive. Fighting off that what he says might sound that way instead of earnestly wondering.]

Right. But how would you help with that?

[He gets another nod, another nudge. Everyone likes the guy who gives them free food, after all, and Will's content to finish his first drink and set it aside for a refill. Will gives a roll of his eyes, a don't we all at confession of falling prey. No matter how self-aware a person tries to be, missteps still happen. Mistakes are made. To err is human and all that. But the rest of Wells' view renders him less expressive, boils him down to something quiet, contemplative, and oddly at ease. Like he's speaking to him more personally than Wells realizes, whether or not he's still in doctor mode.]

Don't put your hand on a stove top and blame it when you get burned just because the coil wasn't red yet?

[He says lightly. Cliché it might be considered, his voice connects much more than just pulling out a trite phrase. He hasn't just been burned before—he knew it would happen and did it anyway. Some had been thrown across Hannibal's fire without any clue. Will had essentially jumped into the frying pan, and even though he blamed Hannibal for his actions (mostly), he couldn't deny that he'd known the danger and went ahead and done it anyway. Not that he's going to spill his guts about Hannibal, but if there's anyone who might have some empathy for those who put up pretenses about who and what they are while being the opposite, later to feel their own sense of betrayal...Wells is at the bar with him, for better or worse.

If that gives Wells the impression that Will's stag being docile and harmless was due to practice or a front in and of itself, and perhaps Will is the not-yet-red coil ready to burn people to a crisp, he can't help that.]

Edited (that's not what singe means) 2015-08-24 20:51 (UTC)

Or don't take a bet if you're not willing to pay out.

[He picks up a couple more fries and plucks them into his mouth, smiling as he chews and savoring the lightly salted flavor. It's certainly cliched, but who can frown down upon a cliche every now and then? They exist for a reason and Wells thinks it's just one of those quirky things about the world. He takes the last sip of his drink once done chewing and taps a couple times on the bar, alerting the bartender to come and refill.]

Are you sure you don't want of these?

[He questions innocently, pointing to the fires before taking his glasses and sliding them back on. It seems like such a waste--

However his thought, and perhaps the answer to his question, may just need to wait. All of the sudden the sitcom re-run playing on low volume in the bar is cut off, the screen turning blue and a graphic title card blasting through with the words "BREAKING NEWS" alongside the channel's news logo. A reporter, well dressed and stone-faced in the way one must be when delivering a major development, appears sitting at the anchor desk and a subline appears on the bottom of the screen.

Bombing at De Chima University.

The bartender, after a moment of stunned silence, grabs the remote to bring the volume up so that the handful of people inside can hear. From there the reporter begins to list the details, panic absent from her voice (forcibly perhaps) and make clear the situation. Bombs releasing what is believed to be toxic gasses all over the university campus, during the dual Technology Fair and imPort Swear-In. The smile is already gone on Wells' face, his expression grave and wide-eyed. Not panicked, but momentarily shocked.]

Edited (details) 2015-08-24 22:12 (UTC)

[Cordial fades into tension, worry. Will's expression is just as grave as he turns his attention to the television, jaw set. Fingers have been snapped, pointed to a bloody mess, demanded his full attention, and he gives it immediately. What might be expected (or hoped for) with anyone in law enforcement, Will sees distress and keys in on it completely. Then again, the people he works to put away also key in on distress, but that's neither here nor there.

Will waits until the reporter gets what she has out, enough to go on. His eyes narrow as though he could pick out any familiar faces in the crowd, should the camera swing a certain way. His glass is clutched then set aside, completely ignored. In a low, gravely voice, he addresses Wells without turning to look at him:]

That's us. [Their little group, he means. Detective skills are truly strong with him today.] Should we go, see if there's anything we can do?

[Porter technology is great, they could be there quickly enough that they might prove useful...but they could just as easily get caught in the fray, couldn't they? Perhaps that's the point. Attack and make sure to draw in the others who haven't attended. Abigail and April had no intentions of going when he left the house. Chilton was on vacation. The three he felt the desire to protect the most were out of the picture, what reason did he have to go tearing off from this bar stool not knowing if he'd be of any use or end up making the mess worse? Time to defer to the doctor in the room. That had never gone poorly for Will.]

[ She falters on her end. Is Will doubting her abilities? No, that can't be right. ]

Erm... I could help whoever's tasked to find him. I'm a good tracker and I know close-range combat. I should also keep him from running if he was found.

[His eyes turn to Will when he brings up the word "us", but his concerned dark look doesn't drop. With the shock fading away, his mind begins drumming through the people he knows are there. Cisco was planning a presentation all week long and Barry must have gone as well. There are other people there that he knows, he is sure, but none of them really come to mind as important. The latter can take care of himself, he's the Flash, but Cisco has barely even practiced using his powers...

There's a cold chill he isn't expecting to overcome him at the thought of the man, the boy, getting hurt. He finally opens his mouth, his face visibly tense, thinking Will may not like what he'll say.]

What could we do, Will? [His words are sharp, but his tone is oddly soft. Artificially so, an attempt to soften the blow as he delivers it.] Neither of us have an ability that could be of use. We'd more than likely get caught in the chaos of things. And I'm certain there are imPorts already there who could take control.

[In his case, it is a lack of want. He has no interest in playing hero, not when he already chose not to go in case something like this would occur. The only person he can think of right now, the only one he feels a genuine dread over what could happen, is Cisco. Cisco who is the closest thing he has ever had to a son. However he's already disavowed himself from taking care of him in these matters. Barry is there, so he will have to trust Barry can help. And while he can't trust Barry in a lot of things, he can trust Barry to be a hero at the least.]

Do you have people there you need to get to? I can drive you to the porter. [He thinks he should make the offer at the least. He won't go, but if Will needs to then so be it.]

[Oh, quite the opposite, this approach is such a sweet melody Will has trouble believing he's hearing it at first. He is so used to being in the fray, whether of his own accord or having it flung at him. This is new, this is refreshing. It's like Will's spent a life in silence and suddenly heard a harp for the first time, the way he turns his head to look at Wells is so struck. Confusion, awe.]

None of my people are there.

[Blunt, airy. For someone in his job, that might be considered a terrible answer, but it's the honest one. He sees Wells' logic, too, and agrees with it. He's simply not used to being told it's okay to sit something out. It's okay for him to be on the back burner and let people with better qualifications handle it. Coming from a world where he was the top dog of criminal profilers, he was always on the front line in one way or another.

This is the sort of altar he can get behind visiting more often. Who knew?]

You're right. There's no point going in now.

[God, is he even speaking a real language? His tongue feels thick, drugged, and he casually reaches out to scoot his glass forward. Bartender can give him a refill and listen to the news, yes? Will's a good tipper, and Goddamn does he need a drink.]

[~~tells her to contact Power Girl~~]

I don't know who all is going to make their intentions of finding him public. Keeping an eye on the Network and getting in touch with some of these capes might be in your best interests. I have to work within the bounds of the law [LMAO] here, and I'm not yet sure what their response is going to be.

[He's not encouraging illegal stuff, exactly. He just doesn't imagine bringing Sasha in with him to go over very well, and it's not like the government hasn't given certain imPorts a pass to deal with others. Still, until Will finds out more from Internal Affairs and knows what he's expected to do...Sasha doing a bit of networking, no pun intended, could be way more beneficial. Hopefully she knows if anyone asks for a character reference, she's free to point at Will. And some of these capes seem to be young, or young-ish, too. They'll probably have less frowny faces at pulling in a "kid" to run track and field.]

[The answer does surprise him a little and wonders what it says about Will's character. A lot of his expectations have been subverted slowly, equally intriguing and frustrating, as he tries to get a hold on who Will is. He's no psychologist and people are complex things to him, often difficult to understand. His hands lace together on the table, just as the bartender comes to refill both their drinks (though so clearly unfocused now, a little too shocked still) and he breathes in quietly.]

Do you think it might have been an imPort? Or is an outside group more likely?

[He hasn't been here long enough to have a full scope on all the potential threats out there, so he defers to Will for more information.]

[He could just leave the bottle and Will wouldn't mind drinking straight from it. Times of crisis and all that.

Will glances back at the television, taking a few seconds to piece things together, to see if there's more information to be heard. Unlikely, given that the situation is still happening, but when Will thinks of toxic gasses and imPorts? There's only one person that comes to mind. Without anything more to go on and a camera incapable of giving the full scope, though, who can say? He doesn't like that at all, frowning before he answers.]

Could be either. [No point "sticking up" for imPorts or attempting to throw blame on the government in some form or fashion. They're a dangerous group; it's nice for someone else to see that, to ask questions like these instead of something more naive, Who would do such a thing!?] We'll know soon enough. People who pull stuff like this rarely pass up the opportunity to brag.

[An imPort will probably smear their shit all over the Network, an outside group might go through newspapers, television, social media, whatever. Will isn't concerned this will remain a mystery for long, doesn't particularly find this pleasant even knowing so, and downs half his new drink in one go.]

[ She knows he's right. She's not privy to how the law operates behind the scenes or during an actual investigation. It all sounded simpler in her head a moment ago: help catch him and leave the rest to the official authorities.

She pulls her legs up, resting her chin against her knees. ]

He wanted to know if I had seen or felt anything at the university. Why does he want to know if we were scared?

[Wells up to the screens as well, but there isn't much at all to go on. Phone interviews with reporters on the scene, shaky video footage being livestreamed, information being regurgitated for anyone just tuning in to the disaster. The bar is relatively silent through all this, probably because everyone is thankful that they're a far distance from Virginia right about now.

He makes a light snerk at the mention of bragging.]

Oh yeah, definitely. [He shakes his head, bringing a hand up to rub his fingers against his strained right temple.] Seen it back in my world a lot. Criminals making big scenes and daring anyone to stop them. Sometimes just calling out one person alone, dragging others into a conflict. I could see it being any of those.

[It was such a damn mess. At least he could say that people only got dragged into his rivalry with Flash when they invited themselves into it. It reminds him of Captain Cold and makeshift crew stirring up trouble for a laugh. Or the Tricksters bombing and poisoning everyone around them.

He looks down to his refilled drink and scowls, pushing it over to Will.]

Have it, I'm not in the mood anymore. [And it's not like it would do anything to him anyway.]

[A long pause. Sasha's spoken to Will enough to realize that's more because he's thinking his words than he's ignored her, or having troubles.]

Because he's a sadist [Does Sasha know that word? Maybe not. But Will doesn't ask, keeps going.] and he's obsessed with fear. Knowing you were afraid, what you saw, is part of his design. People like Doctor Crane care for others when others can provide them with something. In this case, the reactions and results to his attack. He may have lost the capacity to relate and care for others outside of that.

[Or he may have had it taken from him, Will doesn't say. He doesn't want to get into relating to Crane, not with Sasha.]

Remember when Doctor Crane told you we all have monsters inside of us, and that doesn't necessarily mean anything bad? Now you have a better understanding of why he'd think so, and what his idea of the "greater good" is.

This whole time he was trying to push us all into doing things he wanted?

[ So that's why he tried to convince her of all those things. It really does make her sick and angry, especially in light of everything that's happened back home. ]

That's... that's horrible.

[That gets Will's attention. Not that Wells is familiar, but the last bit in particular. Hannibal had been rather cruel about that. Then again: Hannibal was cruel about everything. He can't read minds, fortunately, but they invited themselves into it...an easy way out of blame, isn't it? At the same time, though, there is some sort of honor to giving others acknowledge for their actions. Nodding that they chose to do something, be it heroic or plain stupid, and respect such.

Attention only redirected when he realizes what he's being offered. Will isn't one to turn down a good drink, no. He understands it might be viewed as callous to continue drinking with everything going on now. Oh well. He's used to worst case scenarios, and this place has been good at providing them time and again. It's not desensitization, it's coping. Doing what's necessary to keep on keeping on.]

Thank you. [What does Will do? The only thing a simple man of simple pleasures should, taking another sip from his before carefully adding the rest of his drink to Wells'. Everything goes in the same place, and there's no one in this bar now who has any reason to stand on pretense about you just don't drink like THAT. More important things are going on!] What happens after? In your world.

[He can't help but be curious about the worlds where powers aren't unheard of. Jaime Reyes and his damn evil gorillas are something a person just does not forget.]

[Sick enough to puke...]

Yes it is. But that's reflective of him, Sasha. Not you or anyone else.

[ She'll throw up Crane's ear... ]

I know.

... I didn't tell him because I wasn't ready, and I'm glad for that now, but I wasn't honest with you when I ported back in.

[In Will's sink, please.]

Is that something you want to change?

[After his argument with Kitty...]

So you're probably busy with your whole law job right now but you know what sounds great when you're not? Fishing

I know I said I wanted to take my friends one day but I was thinking a test run wouldn't be too bad. If you wanna go that is

[THEY CAN THROW THEIR CELL PHONES INTO THE OCEAN WILL, DOESN'T THAT SOUND GRAND?]

Yes... I should.

[ She exhales loudly. ]

Um, remember when you asked about the timeline? If I had experienced the future I [ slight pause ] was worried about?

IC contact [Mask or Menace]

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could also* not should...

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but how will i make art

in the dark

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ehizf4vrsaw

text ; this just in, damaged teenagers go to will for solace, fishing

omfg