infomodder | IC contact [Mask or Menace]

[Foot in lap, okay, he can deal with that. His head goes through a variety of ways to break a foot to the names of all the bones in a foot back to piggies as he looks down at it, makes no move to push it aside. But he is totally focused on that foot until she draws his attention back to the pin up card and then he's as much at a loss as she is.

She hasn't even heard them and she's already telling him she'll mock every single one he spits out.

She's earned a dumb, slack-jawed expression, reminiscent of a cow more than anything else. Not because he's faced with a truly beautiful fisher woman. That card is fuzzy at the edges with the way Will's attention narrows down to April and April alone. Even his hand bows out a little, giving the raccoon all the answers he needs.]

Good to know. [He's tempted to toss out out one he's used in the past, but considering they end up relating to feelings and people here, maybe that's not the best idea. She's managed to daze him enough he might jumble them anyway. Besides, he might be able to one up it, and when he lays a hand over her foot firm enough to stop it should she kick out, oh God. She knows it's coming, doesn't she?] That's very helpful of you.

[His personal Hero.]

I also get to hold up a sign when you're being a jerk.

[ She tosses the card (lightly) at his general chest area, rolling her eyes at that whole 'helpful' nonsense. Does it really count as helping if it's making fun of puns for her own entertainment? But, really, she could see requests about telling him whether a random raccoon was real or not, or letting him know when he's failing to fit in with the youth or his outfit is, but all rights, some mild crime against humanity. But turns of phrase is a weirdly, highly specific request.]

So...why?

[One hand on her foot and the other showing his cards to the raccoon, who is trying to play the game, it lands, falls down, Will making no move to stop it or grab it or anything else. He's too busy trying to contain the shit-eating grin threatening to overtake his face and too tempted to offer to build her a sign for that very purpose.

At the question, Will looks down at the cards in his hand and then does the unthinkable by stuffing them into the raccoon's furry little paws. Here you go, buddy. You win the whole game. Of course, that's not in line with the rules by any stretch of the imagination, so he's quick to also point to the still uneaten dog treats. Eat your confused feelings like everybody else, man.]

I've always...talked a little different. [No way had April picked up on that one.] Wasn't until I got here that anyone started pointing it out when it was too different. Rethinking some stuff because of it.

[Existential crisis over wordplay.]

Like the failures of the American Education system? The dangers of PBS being too helpful?

[ Of course she notices, but come now. April wouldn't be here if not for the things that made him odd- or, more accurately, he wouldn't be here. It was her room and all. That other people didn't like something wasn't on the list of concerns. So it had to be something slightly more than that. ]

[He stares at her, openly stares, and tries to think of a way to get into it that makes perfect sense. But, considering he's kept plenty hidden and hasn't been talking to people the same way he does at home, it gets muddled. Too much to explain, and it all sounds rather dumb, doesn't it?

So he goes for the most juvenile thing he can while running his hands over his face in complete exasperation. It was slightly more than that. Slightly.]

I had to send out a few messages on way my over here. [To the Baltimore crew, sans Abigail.] The one with Fred didn't go so well.

[There is an amazing amount of disdain crammed into four letters. He's so done with his own people half the time.

He's pretty sure most of them feel the same way. He can't blame them.]

I-

[This is confusing. This whole conversation. Granted, it's all happening while under stress and danger and it is the Baltimore crew involved. But come on. He called Fred the Wine Goblin?]

Why? Like, even call him. It's not like he's got a cape and speedo ready to go rushing into danger.

[His face screws up at the idea of Chilton in a cape and a speedo, which prompts him to run his hands over it again. His imagination fills it out before he can stop it. Even the cane gets a cape.]

It wasn't—there was somebody else here from home who's gone. Fred's talking to the Manipulator, too. I, it's—I had to shoot off a message to everyone else. He's part of that group whether— [I like it or not is the end of that, but he doesn't say it, cuts himself off. He ruffles up his hair and leans back on his hands instead, done. Well done with this entire situation.] —I feel like this is where I ask if you wanna make out.

[He's desperate to not have to explain this any further. What better way to keep questions and answers from happening than keeping mouths closed entirely? They could always play the game in silence, sure. They could also play something else while Abigail Hobbs is in peril—

—probably just keep it to the distraction level as opposed to the missing out on updates because they were having sex level.

April's question on the train just happens to stick out to him. He hears it in his head when he thinks about her, without fail. That's one thing he's not ever going to forget without extreme effort put into making it so.]

Do you want to make out?

[ There is a level of skepticism to that question that was no where to be found on their date on the train. While using making out as a way to kill time, or improve a bad day, or just generally because, was fine (more than fine, awesome and a fantastic use of time, actually), she isn't totally sure how she feels about him re-purposing the activity as a new deflection. Mostly because it's going to be an effective one. Getting a straight answer out of the jerk was already a feat, and she's not entirely sure she can manage to turn down constant offers like that whenever Will doesn't want to talk about something. Really, there is a chance they may never get past the start of an awkward or difficult conversation again.

Today, though, Abigail being in peril on multiple screens just over her shoulder helps her focus. Along with the raccoon now playing solitaire while munching down on treats (getting crumbs over everything), who isn't really a major factor, but would make the processes just slightly inconvenient.]

[That is less fair when Will is the one who can easily see those screens he's supposed to be keeping an eye on. It could be seen as playing dirty, that question, but perhaps April's in return is even dirtier, all things considered. The bed and all its crumbs are probably the least dirty part in this equation, and Will casts a glance at the fiend causing it without an attempt to be subtle.]

What kind of question is that?

[How far is Will willing to go to re-purpose the activity known as making out in this situation? Pretty far, it seems. Far enough to take up the semi-pornographic cards in one fell swoop and toss them to the floor, ruin the raccoon's game while telling him where he can take it, and brushing aside the majority of those crumbs. Not enough? Not enough to prove total commitment, which is what has him leaning forward instead of back, on all fours with both hands planted on either side of April as if he is completely unaware of anything else. Only got eyes for her, that's what it looks like.]

Have you looked in the mirror lately? There's only one possible answer to that question.

[Still nothing in his line of vision but April, April, April.]

[ And she doesn't move an inch away, even as all that is in her field of vision is a cheater, cheater, cheater. In fact she does the opposite, arms wrapping around his shoulders to help pull him closer, giving up on the whole sitting thing and just lounging back on the bed under him. Because, damn it, yes she knew how hair had looked lately. And, clearly, she had minimal objections to how he was looking these days, too.

But there was just one. Tiny. Thing. And, possibly hard for him to see considering he's close enough now his features look more that a blurred blob than anything, she has nothing but an annoyed expression at the fact she can't just shake it off. They should just make out. Screw it. They should...

God. Right now her life was the hardest of anyone on the planet, and that was counting the starving children and people kidnapped by psychos so don't even start. ]

So say it.

[Cheating, as long as it stays between the two of them, isn't so bad, is it? Nobody comes around with fleas or worse, and she can easily get him back later with...well, pretty much whatever. An offhanded comment, some public display, just about everything is fair play when Hannibal Lecter is nowhere to be found. Her arms around his shoulders are met with relaxing, not tensing, as if it was any other night they were winding with a little winding up. For all intents and purposes, his body language reads as in it to win it, in spite of the circumstances. Nothing can throw him—

—not even that. Up go the eyebrows, his lips twist into half of a smile, and if those three words had been "do you dare?" his face was answering that yes, yes, he did dare.

April's life was so difficult, he could feel that, could empathize, could also hold off on the juvenile, immediate reply that threatened to come out of him and make it more difficult: It.]

Say what, yes? I wanna make out with you? [Dangerously close to not being able to say anything at all, mouth too busy with something much better. Never mind that Abigail Hobbs is in something like dire straits and they were just talking about Frederick Chilton, of all people. He's going for it.] Yes. [He can just reach out and turn the communicator on its face if it gets to that point. Or she could roll him over and make sure eyes don't wander. It's not impossible to manage.] I really wanna make out with you.

[There was a moment where he almost said "I do" but those two words in a relationship of this sort are better reserved for...not this situation. The sexual aspect, not the sexual aspect while a hostage situation goes on and one member tries desperately to not whine about a future jailer. He goes with "really" in its place and unless April contests that, life won't be too difficult any longer because Will's proving he says what he means.

And, possibly, that he's in need of a shave. But if April doesn't mind the scruff, who is he to get rid of it with any consistent frequency?]

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