ic contact 2 mask or menace

[infomodder]

"Gone fishing."

[ so don't leave messages to ruin the after fishing glow !!!

your one stop shop for not leaving him alone, previous contact post can be found here ]

Comments

video; post the road not taken plot

[brushoff]

[ your child and that shithead who's the equivalent of that one kid in school that always causes trouble got into a fight, Will. ]

Sasha bit me.

[ Dorian's showing his maturity here as he just...fricken tattles on Sasha for doing something while affected by a magic whatever. ]

[infomodder]

[BUT MS. JOHNSON BOBBY WAS TALKING TOOOOOOO WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE GETTING IN TROUBLE THIS ISN'T FAAAAAAAIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRR

Will blinks, stares for a moment, and finally:]

Where?

06.22.2016 -- text.

[slightlyoffchilt]

You lying son of a bitch.

[That's right, he doesn't even want to hear your VOICE.]

[infomodder]

[This is about something to do with Raina, isn't it? And Chilton's unwell problem? That's Will's first assumption, that exactly, he doesn't even consider...]

Could you be more specific?

text;

[textualhealing]

Hey, Dad. We have a family emergency.

[infomodder]

???

Early June, before Billy Kaplan's Wild Ride; ACTION

[takethestairs]

[Miles Edgeworth is at a gas station. His clothes are wrinkled, his hair is sticking up in every which way, and it's that magical hour when late nights and early mornings are blurred together. And Edgeworth is a the gas station, standing by his beloved hovercar, nozzle in hand. The dim lights give his already pale face a sickly pallor, emphasizing his dull skin and the deep bags under his eyes, and he stares numbly at the numbers telling him how close he is to filling his tank. As soon as he's done, he can... well, he doesn't know what he can do. He can drive around some more, he supposes, but eventually he'll have to return home, whether he likes it or not.]

[infomodder]

[Will comes out of the store with a bag of absolute garbage snacks, really, already taking a hearty swig from a bottle of Sprite. He's all intent to head home with the lady racoon on his shoulder, sporting her favorite ascot. It's that time of night/morning when anything goes. Why would he be bothered by taking her on an errand with him, why would it matter if she wanted to dress up?

What does matter is when she scurries down him and goes bounding in the direction of the gas pumps. That matters a lot because it is too fucking earlylate for this. Fortunately that means less traffic; he isn't worried she's gonna nearly get hit. He's just a little inconvenienced, having to chase after her.

So that's the first thing Miles will see. A beautiful not-quite-adult lady raccoon sporting one of his ascots. After she leaps on his hover car, of course, climbs atop the roof to peer at him as he fills the tank. In one of his "missing" ascots. The little thing looks like she's smiling, even.

And then there's Will, turning around the corner. Stopping immediately when he spots why she went AWOL. His eyes move from her stylish neckwear to Miles, and he has nothing to say. No. Not now. Just takes another swig of Sprite.]

6/30

[unbreaker]

Hey, Mr. Graham? It's Josuke.

[Wait, would that mean much to Will?]

We, uh, we met in the park once. After everyone's phones were doing that weird misfire thing? Anyway, I know we don't know each other that well, but I know you got a background in police work and I was wondering if maybe I could ask a favor?

[infomodder]

[Will calls back in the next fifteen minutes, skipping the niceties straight to:]

Josuke? Hey. Will Graham. What's the favor?

voice;

[wizzardly]

[a day's passed since Rincewind's been home. Probably not something worth too much notice, and maybe not any at all; he's stayed out before, slept in odd places. The phone call that comes in the evening could therefore be anything.]

...Will? [a beat, a queasy swallow.] Right, um. So I think I'll be away for a few days. Possibly. Probably. It depends, you see. I've... something of a thing to talk to you about.

About you and Dorian. And. Ah. You... cutting out and sending human organs to Dr. Chilton?

[the phone call isn't anything.]

[infomodder]

[Well now.

There's a pause, long enough to let it be known Will's thinking. What is Rincewind expecting, he wonders. Offense? Does he want Will to be horrified that he could ever believe this had happened? Or perhaps confusion, confusion about what and where these accusations were coming from. He definitely shouldn't respond with some off the cuff Are you phoning me because you're afraid of me? despite that thought running through his head. It's only natural for a human being who has some sense of sanity or self-preservation to not delight in private meetings with folks they may view as murderously dangerous, though there's a barb in that for Will. If this is the case, did Rincewind not already realize he was somewhat safe? It's like...he sends a friend some gift baskets and then nobody understands why and they think he's just being a son of a bitch and where is Hannibal when he needs him (no).]

What about it?

[Yes that's what Rincewind gets in response: acceptance of the accusations and an invitation to talk.]

08.13.2016 -- text.

[slightlyoffchilt]

The worst part, Will, the worst part isn't that you sent me human organs. That's a bit clichéd where we come from, isn't it? Almost to be expected at some point. The worst part is the implication. When I initially asked you if you knew anything about it, you lied to me. Then you pretended to assist in the investigation, continuing the lie. You and Dorian Gray. He contacted me, you know, incinerated any benefit of the doubt I compulsively give you.

I thought you were my friend. I thought we were brothers-in-arms, both of us having lived through such tragedy together. But you purposefully psychologically terrorized me for months. You took advantage of my trust in you. And for what? For your own goddamned amusement! Not even Hannibal treated you this way. He thought you were a friend, even in his most narcissistic coil he believed you took priority over everyone else. He didn't kill to make you the joke, he wanted to invite you into the joke.

But you. You made me the joke. You and Dorian think this is funny, you think the fact I believed you and trusted you as a dear friend is funny. You think people are punchlines. And no one else will ever hold you accountable, isn't that the funniest?

I never wanted you to suffer. I lost control of Walt, but you? You and Dorian were always in control. You wanted me to suffer.

You wanted a laugh.

[infomodder]

[Several hours pass before Chilton is given a reply, and Will has no intention of mentioning or recognizing the delay. Chilton can always ask if he absolutely has to know. Will's got to take some time to digest that Dorian is apparently more trustworthy than him and also the whole Hannibal namedrop because wow that's low. Unless Chilton really wants to be fed Raina and Reggie and Rincewind and all his pals and suffer greatly and somehow be covered in more scars.]

Wouldn't you feel better saying this to my face?

voice;

[brushoff]

[ bet you've missed Captain Histrionic here ]

Have you seen my portrait recently?

voice;

[infomodder]

[how could he not]

I haven't seen it since I last moved it. Why?

[100% normal answer there]

Audio; Backdated to August 24

[insinerate]

[It may as well be the 25th by the time this call comes through, the sun just shy of rising because it would have been wise to sleep off his intoxication, but heaven forbid Yuri ever do anything that's good for his health.

Or his mental health, anyway.]

You've made an ass of yourself before, haven't you, Will?

[What a blessed way to begin a conversation, especially considering they both know the answer to that question.]

Tell me, how did you weather the aftermath?

[infomodder]

[Maybe he's still in bed when he takes this call. Maybe he's going to putting it on speaker for April. M A Y B E...]

Once or twice. [A month.] Weather it drunkenly, for the most part. Silently too.

Late evening of October 1st

[insinerate]

[Much of Yuri's day following his 'resurrection' is spent in solitude, catching up with current events and checking his messages—one of which prompts from him a reply that is two (nearly three) weeks delayed.

Text, because even though most of the day has come and gone, he doesn't trust that the bitterness he feels at his own death and the complications his new powers present won't bleed into his voice.]

Will, please accept my sincerest apologies for not returning your message sooner. I was taking care of some personal business.

The cleaning instructions for your suit can be found with the spare patch of fabric I included, but in case you have misplaced that, steam cleaning is advisable with rare trips to a dry cleaner's to take care of odors and visible dirt.

[infomodder]

[buddy]

Is this business taken care of?

text;

[brushoff]

[ hey look Will, hell has officially frozen over (or alternatively, Dorian is so whipped and Toby has the brains in the relationship) ]

I'm sorry I dragged you into mine and Chilton's nonsense.

[ is that good enough? How exactly does one apologize for something like this? There's a bit of hemming and hawwing before Dorian also texts ]

:(

[ nailed it??? ]

[infomodder]

[u h m m m ? ? ?]

Are you in trouble?

[text]

[khaleesipls]

Tell me about Russia.

[infomodder]

Russia is the largest country on Earth and a cold one. Its history here is different from the one on my own Earth. What's called the Cold War is still going here. It used to be cold, but then they invaded briefly earlier this year and abducted several of us so it can't be genuinely called that anymore. They haven't done much since, not directly, but I'm sure they're cooking something up. Just takes time.

10.10.2016 -- voicemail.

[slightlyoffchilt]

You've been quiet. That is suspicious.

[That's it, that's the voicemail.]

text;

[infomodder]

[Suspicious silence continues; Will does not respond for a few hours, and when he does, it's brief.]

Abigail has returned. She doesn't remember being here.

Misfire;

[pyrogue]

[ First he texts a picture. ]

See? You can be cute, I have photographic evidence.

[infomodder]

[...]

You're right. He's cute when he isn't punching me in the face.

text;

[textualhealing]

Will, I need help!

[infomodder]

????

DELIVERY

[khajidont]

[ HO HO HO, AND MERRY CHRISTMAS! Courtesy of beetlemail, Will be receiving: clippings of reviews of their art + a school selfie of them that Jaime probably harassed Will into at some point. He also gets a ball and some fuzzy slippers.]

Merry Christmas, Will!

I graduated a semester later than expected, but you know what? Totally worth it.

-Jaime

Delivery [ Forwarded to the 31st ]

[ghoulking]

[ There is no note or name attached to this gift, but it'll dropped off by Will's shop. Kaneki will leave incense, home-made mochi (rice cakes) and a a calendar for 2017 with dogs. Lots of dogs. ]

Jan 1st

[mathemagier]

[The photo arrives in Will's inbox a few minutes after the New Year switches over.

Posed as promised, though with Newt holding enough of his weight in the dip to not be a burden on his partner's hip. Newt is dressed in the nurse's costume--stockings and all--his glasses discarded for the shot. Hermann has reluctantly donned the sailor costume, though there is nothing truly reluctant about the kiss, however much he detests the presence of a camera. It's not a selfie in the traditional sense...neither have ruined the pose by holding the camera themselves. They make no effort to show off, nor hide, the matching gold wedding bands on their left hands.]

text;

[neverdied]

I hear you're somewhat of an expert when it comes to cannibals.

[infomodder]

[The fuck? What? Why?

Then again, it's not really...secret. Not any more. Fitting, since it hasn't been a secret back home for ages. Still. This has been said about him and no one's given him the head's up? Or the heads. Just...

Well. Not much different from a stranger asking about dogs or fishing, really, is it? Except no, they are very different, except for when the dogs are eating people or the bait is people. Fuck. It's all people in the end.

Twenty minutes later:]

You hear correctly.

[His type of cannibal, anyway, the cannibal that is super eat up with Will Graham's plaid and dog hair covered ass.]

How can I help you?

[acclimatized]

Hey.

Have you given my number to a fish facts hotline?

[infomodder]

Hey.

No. I haven't. I take it you're getting them anyway.

[HAS IT HAPPENED AGAIN...]

PHYSICAL MAIL this goes to April too

[exceptfebruary]

[ There's a package in the mail. Inside is a box of chocolates and a small black envelope. Inside is a handmade Valentine's Day card from none other than Calendar Man: ]

Letter!

[baetiful]

[ Perhaps it's a bit old-fashioned, but the message arrives for Will via mockingbird. Sealed closed by a wax mockingbird sigil, the letter is hand-written in careful cursive. ]

Dear, Mr. Graham -

We have not spoken before, but my name is Petyr Baelish. I serve as the ambassador for Maurtia Falls. I write to you on behalf of a project I am working on within my city. Construction has already begun on rebuilding a much larger library, but I wish for this to be more than simply a bigger structure. I hope to inspire education and the spread of knowledge to the natives of Maurtia Falls as well as provide an invaluable resource to new arrivals here. But more than that, I wish to use it to pay homage to the natives who lost their lives within Maurtia Falls due to imPort related tragedies. Their names will be honored within the library itself and donations will be set up to be made to the families.

For this project to succeed, I need your help. If you are able to donate anything at all to the cause, it would be most appreciated -- whether that is books, money, or simply your time. Perhaps you can spare a book or two about fish? I'm certain it would be vastly helpful to anyone who wishes to start an aquarium or go fishing in the river within Maurtia Falls.

I thank you for your time, and I do hope to hear back from you soon.

Sincerely,
Ambassador Petyr Baelish


[ OOC: You can feel free to just respond to this OOCly if he would donate anything or not! ]

Guess who is work texting

[aggressiveapathy]

so
and corpses holding boom boxes outside out window yet

mitch gonna fire her

[infomodder]

not at this very moment

[hours into the march swear-in]

[khaleesipls]

Are you at the swear-in?

[infomodder]

Sure am. Why?

text; april 14th

[pyrogue]

Can you take care of Matches for me for a while?

[infomodder]

YES

[Embarrassing. A few seconds later, he sends more.]

Everything OK?