infomodder | IC contact [Mask or Menace]

Mm. Maybe. Even without that stuff, you're pretty enough.

[ Not even a hesitation or a shift in tone there, it's just an objective fact. Kinda old as he may be, Will is pretty. Even sitting on the floor, staring at her while she's seated on her bed, an odd raccoon or too scampering in the background. Just pretty.]

So long as there's no smiling. I don't know if they know the magic of photoshop here yet.

[He wasn't expecting that—nor was he expecting Gunther's licks to stop because he sneezed doggy snot all over the back of his neck the moment April finished speaking, as if Will had forgotten he was there. In a somewhat animal-unfriendly movement, Will reaches out to bodily shove the dog off screen. It's possible he's grown used to Gunther's sneezing, the fits, and knows that it's going to get worse. It does, but that sneezing is further away and not all over him. Victory.]

Pretty model prisoner. [His voice is a little too rough for him to sound entirely flippant. But wait, if she's this into the bad guys and he's got...] I still got it, you know. Orange jumpsuit I came here in. Haven't had it in me to get rid of it.

[Wanna see? is implied, but not stated. He's still got his hand out to keep the dog at bay. The dog who has been sneezing the entire time. Normal day in a Graham home, this. This furry mess here.]

[ She does her best to try to follow the puppy as he is ejected from the scene, even as her smirk comes slightly back at the interaction. It's sad to see the puppy moved, but she knows how it goes. Animal snot as only funny when it happens to other people.

But when he's solidly off the screen, her attention does fully back to Will, and she considers him for a long moment before replying.

Will Graham, what are you plotting? And what is she going to do about it?]

I thought it was a future thing. The jail and murders and Freddie becoming your number one stalker fan and all.

[The sneezing stops, which means Will can take his hand back. For now. For now, the dog seems content to lick its snout and curl up next to his leg, eyes glancing at the screen. He sees you, April.]

It is and it isn't. Freddie's been on my trail for months now. [It's an uncomfortable thing to try to explain, but she probably should know more about it. Considering she isn't demanding or even asking, it's easier to run with.] Just before I got Ported in, I was arrested for... [This topic is not one he's fond of, it's so impossible to miss.] ...some things they found in my house. Body parts. Hair, bone fragment, an ear I threw up in my sink. [So much drama for a dog fighting fish man, so much.] Five people, technically. Didn't believe it was me, so I— [Did something that most can't, wouldn't.] beat the snot out of the guards and driver, threw them out, dumped the vehicle, ran to find an explanation of why. Who. How. Stalling because I could. When I got here, I was in orange and had a busted thumb. That's how you get out of handcuffs. One way, at least if you don't have a key.

[At least he can be informative and helpful on how to get out of handcuffs?]

It was just Frederick Chilton and another guy we know when I got here. They were a little behind me, time-wise. So I didn't mention it.

[If she's been around long enough to see Chilton in action, surely she can understand.]

You threw up an ear.

[ Will, that is usually the kind of info you mention before accepting an invitation to stay in someone's house. Where they sleep. Behind a only very weakly locked door. Not that it would have changed her answer on taking him in or not, it's just generally polite. But of all the points (breaking your own thumb?) that's the one she can't help but echo.

She runs one hand through her hair, for once actually buying time to think of a reply instead of just blurting the first thing that comes to mind or tossing back a harsh joke. Possibly more importantly, she bothers to try to hide the fact she doesn't have a reply instead of just blankly staring at him until he starts talking again out of discomfort. But don't think she missed that didn't believe it was me. ]

Okay. So, you're kind of a mess. But its not like you had to mention it. Stuff from before, it's, mm...whatever happened, it's not like it has to matter. Unless it starts happening again. Here. Or you want it to.

[It would have been polite, wouldn't it? But how does one bring that up in any polite conversation? It's a rude, horrifying subject. At least he had the good grace not to do it sometime when it was just the two of them, totally alone in the same room. Or, as alone as they could be, because send out the raccoons might have not been taken well if he was going to turn it into a talk about...

It's just better this way.

Him wanting it to, God, that's the bitterest excuse for a laugh, and he somehow seems to have shrunk in, lost some weight.]

A whole one. [Not digested at all, and not a lobe or a part. A whole freaking ear.] It's not happening again because it wasn't me. I didn't do any of that. Wouldn't. A good frame job, sort you'd put up in a fancy museum. [Or a hospital for the criminally insane.] But that's not me, I don't—I don't hurt people. [Like that, at any rate.] Understand it's a lot of mess. Bloody, nasty mess. If that's. Deal-breaker, then I'm not gonna. Stalk you or complain or hold up a stereo outside your house or anything.

[Say Anything Except for "Go Away Cannibal Dog Man, I'm Calling the Police" the saddest movie ever, costarring 400 dogs and more raccoons.]

That's...mm.

[ She will come back to all of this later. This...framed for murder and how exactly does one get an ear in ones stomach without permission stuff. April's never really- no, not even really. In no way has anyone asked permission to weird-court her. Villains and all, they usually had a fairly direct process for showing what they wanted.

But, regardless of that, as usual it's the other people involved that have to be sorted out first. Because while she could get behind some freaky threeway stuff, all three people involved have to know it's happening. And all she knew was will had rushed to the hospital for the kid, that she and Freddie were apparently bros, too. There was something with that.]

Don't you have a child bride already?

[He's yet to remember it, but it involves tubes and things being stuffed down his throat right to his stomach and just—deep-throating, that's it. That's what that horror was.

He pauses at the question, thinking it over, and then that startling realization has him looking like he's just heard the absolute craziest thing in his life. Cannibalistic serial killers? The shit he saw at work? Normal. This? This is wrong.]

Abigail Hobbs is more a surrogate daughter than anything else. I was a guardian for her back home. [Why not snag Lecter's descriptions when they fit?] And I might be Southern, April, but I'm not incestuous.

[Or into raccoons.

Gosh why does everyone think the worst of him!!!!]

So you're just like, a dad without custody.

[ She rolls her eyes at that look. What do you want, Will. Abigail's pretty. And for some strange reason the idea of him being responsible for another person's life was almost hard to believe. Couldn't imagine what in this conversation would have made it sound like he was having trouble even keeping his own on track. ]

Found anymore kids while you've been here?

[He can handle dogs, but putting him in charge of people's lives kind of...there's a reason she went running to Hannibal. No one could blame her, especially not compared to Will.]

It's not like that. [With Annie, with Sasha, with Jayden, with any of the teenagers he's latched onto in his own way. They're not Abigail at all, and the words of one sorely missed doctor who had experience with Will and raccoons comes flooding back. They're not strays.] Not with the other kids here. None of them are her. I'm not—it's a circumstantial thing. [And uncomfortable, too. Gosh, he keeps swallowing, looking unable to sit still.] I'm paternal with her for reasons that won't happen again. I'm nobody else's dad.

[Gunther, dumb as he may be, snorts at that like he understands. Gets his attention.]

Humans, I mean.

[Better? Better.]

[ Circumstances that involved her mom, April can only assume. But whatever. Unlike some people she's ~~bullied~~ known, Will's been pretty prone to just come out with info he actually wants to share. If he's going to swallow and fidget instead of spitting it out, there's probably a reason.

Which means she won't press. Not that she won't enjoy the discomfort and run with it in a new direction. It's the only thing keeping this conversation grounded for her as they weave around the apparent point of it.]

So one of your mickey mouse club might win the child bride prize.

[Child bride. Prize. The idea of Abigail ever being a bride isn't sad because it invokes the paternal feelings of loss and protectiveness, it's sad because, as far as he knows, The Corpse Bride isn't real. She can't come back in any way. She can't ever be a bride. She won't be all right, she won't wear white and have her hair done to cover a missing ear, or have some veil in place that covers it up. Covers up the scar on her neck.

But he knows she's trying to go into the opposite direction of heavy and terrible and soul-crushing, so he does his best to follow along. Swim right down, shake the blood out of his hair.]

Probably not. I'm not looking to get married. Doubt she is, either. Doubt—the sort of people you've got here from my world, we're...not really the marrying type.

[Which may sound like he has nothing but sex on the mind when it comes to any sort of relationship that's intimate, perhaps, but it's more—well, in general, and here? Of all places? It seems so...destined for disaster. The people from his world are also kind of terrible at all relationships. And one of them, at least, has already killed a spouse. Really, just. It ends badly in Baltimore.]

Are you?

Sometimes. It kinda depends if the relationship is the marriage type. Some aren't. But if it is..mm, yeah, I guess. Why bother with the middle stuff if the end's better?

[ She married one man on literally the first date. True, there had been some zany City magic involved with that, but in hindsight it was still one of the better weeks she'd had in the city. She'd do it again, if she felt like that again. But she hadn't with Max, she'd felt like living together and doing small crimes and mocking people instead. So they'd done that, and it'd been just as good.]

What. Do you want to know if I want kids, too?

[Will continues to reel in conversations that will be so terrible to look back on if he ever goes home and has no idea of it. For now, he doesn't have so much of a problem talking about it, and the flat What has his face screwing up, a companion What what? without as much being said.]

Don't you already have some? [Will has seven dogs, people might count them as his kids.] Seem like you're readier to be a vet than anything else. A good vet. I'd take my dogs to you sort of good vet.

[Compliment???]

Thanks.

[ Compliment. She will take it. ]

I'll keep it in mind if making people miserable gets boring, I guess.

[Compliment taken, some Baltimore problems explained, that went over better than expected—and it shows that Will might have foreseen going a little worse (then again, he hadn't gone in true horrific detail) when he runs a hand through his hair, scratches at the side of his head like he's just been on a mental roller coaster. Has to re-adjust, come back down to more normal things.]

Welcome. [It's quiet, missing the You're that should be there, grasping at small niceties. That's normal. Politeness, that's appreciated and normal and.] It's kinda that time, isn't it? Of the month. When new people sometimes show up. Think I should pack a sleeping bag this weekend, just in case?

[Prayer circle for April's floor.]

[ It's easy to roll with things when you refuse to digest them (or...contemplate them. poor word choice with the ear thing) until later, when playing Survivor Fetch with the house dogs alone. Where no one can hear her maybe text Abigail. ]

Why? You've already got a bed out here.

[ She smiles faintly, but she's back to looking at the cute dog in the shot, too. If anyone asks, he's the reason she hasn't done her normal thing of switching back to text once she got what she wanted. ]

I mean, the raccoons have been practicing laying in a circle shape on the floor. I dunno who'll be in Cole's room next.

[He wouldn't mind if digestion found its way out of her mouth. God knows he thinks it enough himself, and really, he didn't have time to digest much of it. If any of it ever truly did get attacked by stomach acids. So it's not as bad as it could be.

April is one person he honestly wouldn't have any qualms with talking to Abigail about...well, most anything.

What is difficult is talking about getting off the floor any time soon, all things considered.]

Really gonna leave me down there with them? What if they get handsy?

[He needs protection. Clearly. Clearly he can't do it on his own, clearly that dog cozy with him isn't protected, clearly he needs some help with raccoons.]

Hm. Good point. Beards confuse them sometimes. It's messy.

[ Just leaving that last one there. Not saying if they think it's food or a cat or a something to love, mostly because experiments had thus far proven inconclusive. But she isn't going to count this a win until he's the one that says exactly where he's planning on spending the night. It's just too easy if she does it, and where's the fun in easy. ]

Better come up with a back-up, I guess, smart guy.

[Wait. Wait. Is this—beards confuse them, no explanation, could be fact or just bullshit. Some dogs are confused by what appears to be nothing, a bit of clothing on a person or having a hair color that reminds them of someone else, but that's not the case here, is it. This is...he thinks he gets it, and the smile that he manages is not bitter, strained, or fake.]

Ideally, April, the floor would be the back-up. My first choice actually involves sharing your bed. [Enough? No, wait.] Provided you find that agreeable, of course.

[Still smiling like a normal, healthy, happy person, what is this nonsense.]

[ A smile that doesn't get laughed at, that's what. Instead she grins back for a full second. Before ducking her head a little, hair falling slightly forward again to partially cover one eye. Emotions. Human emotions. She can only stare directly so long, even if her smile stays.]

We'll find out when you're here, I guess.

[April's free to stare, more than free—he's used to it, knows if he goes back home he'll have to get even more used to it, pacing behind bars and watching people sit in a chair far enough away that no matter how good a reach he has, he can't get them. Only there won't be any smiles, not like this. He's just going to appreciate it while he can, however brief, and keep that somewhat goofy smile on his face.]

I'll be sure to be on my best behavior, then.

[And take a shower.

And maybe shave.

Maybe.]

[ Don't go to heroic lengths for her, Will. She's not even planning on going to the fancy assembly this month, no point in prettying up. ]

So when'll you be here? I need to know when to ditch work.

[Heroism on part of the shaving razor, maybe.]

Shop closes at six. I can make my way over Fridays after that. [But that is not proactive and does not in any way show that he's more interested in April than just as a weekend buddy.] Or twenty minutes. I could be there in twenty minutes.

[He shrugs, trying not to look or sound desperate. He's not, but he's also not got anything to do and if April doesn't either, why the hell stay around doing absolutely nothing? Bader can bathe herself, she doesn't need the special in-depth scrubs every night, he can spoil someone else, his corpse wolf roommate will understand.]

[ There's just the tinniest bit of surprise, he had started this leg of the conversation with the new people thing and all. But the lack of anything to do had been the reason she'd called. Boredom clawing at her skull, and Will's number high on the speed dial list, and god she approves of the direct route over all the normal people dancing around and setting dates and thinking too far ahead. So there's not even a moment of hesitation before the reply. ]

Bring food.

(no subject)

infomodder - 2014-09-08 22:39 (UTC) - Expand