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

[infomodder]

April likes "that idiot." So do I.

[But he was totally referring to Julian because of course he was.]

[brushoff]

That doesn't change the fact that he attacked a Saint Patrick's Day parade. At least Shade and I got something when we robbed those banks.

[ because why do things if you're not gonna get something out of it! ]

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?

[slightlyoffchilt]

Unbelievable. You can't even rationalize what you've done wrong.

[infomodder]

I could if I knew what, exactly, you were accusing me of.

[slightlyoffchilt]

You're a worse person than I had previously considered you to be.

[infomodder]

[...this is not what he expected. As gears turn and click into the possibility Chilton knows who sent his organ baskets, Will rises and makes his way to the room that lets everyone know he's having Serious Discussion. He steps on Ziggy's tail in the process and receives a mild ankle-lashing for it. The universe is apparently on Chilton's side, he decides, hissing at the sharp pain.

He locks the door behind him, presses a wad of toilet paper to the extremely minor bleeding, sits, and finally after all that delay:]

This isn't because I talked to Raina while you weren't yourself, is it?

[slightlyoffchilt]

No. But I assure you, she isn't happy with you either.

[infomodder]

Should I ask her or are you going to be direct?

[spit it out like an ear]

[slightlyoffchilt]

I want you to think on it, Will. Think real hard.

[infomodder]

[Ugh. His first text gets deleted, a headbutting, defensive thing that sounds less like a grown man in trouble and more like a kid sticking out his tongue (to be fair, he does feel a little like he's being treated as a child, yet answering as one won't do either of them favors) and rather takes a moment to unravel the mounds of lies (in some form or another) he's told Chilton in the past...forever.

No matter what he stumbles across, there is only one he can imagine would get this reaction. Usually he'd have the details of what he's supposed to confess to, but if this is truly fresh news for Chilton...and to think, Will had shared all those beautiful fresh organs of Dorian's and Chilton isn't sharing in return. For shame.]

I have. You told him to find a project and he did. He found one in me. He followed your suggestion and followed it very well, and that has led us here.

[slightlyoffchilt]

And now you are blaming the victim. I meant something more along the lines of Tobias, his unfortunate betrothed, and he twisted it and you took the bait like a fool. And you and Dorian, like twittering mean girls, you sought to psychologically torment someone who thought you were a friend.

How is everyone so wrong about you?

[infomodder]

[Well. That's a bit of a situation, isn't it? Will runs a hand over his chin, thinking this through.]

As far as I know, curfew's only waved for the Swear-Ins. And other government functions. That sort of thing. [But, hell, even kids get leniency with driving if it's to or from work. Kids. His hand drops back to the counter.] Are there Registered ImPorts where you work? If they...were with you, drove you home or. Walked you there. I'd think that would be a good compromise. Unless you'd want me to do that, I don't mind. Shop closes pretty early and my other job is basically over at sundown.

[infomodder]

You got jail time?

[infomodder]

[A minute passes. And then two. If this were a messenger conversation, Chilton would have a beautiful view of those little "..." indicating someone is typing, then disappearing, then popping back up. Over and over, again and again, attempting to find the words. The words and how to phrase them. A third minute of silence passes before, perhaps unexpectedly, Chilton will find he's got an incoming call.

From Will Graham (or whatever he has him listed as in his phone, Lying Son of a Bitch is quite accurate), naturally. Except, this time around, if he doesn't answer, he won't find himself plagued every six minutes. It's now or never.]

[brushoff]

...well I was implying we got money but yes, I got that also. There's no use to attacking a parade of all things.

[infomodder]

Sure there is. The use is making a point. Did you get to keep all that money after you were caught?

[brushoff]

...not really.

[ LET'S TALK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE. ] Then again, my brief foray as a costumed supervillain also went terribly so I suppose I'm not fit for any sort of ridiculous villainy.

[infomodder]

You've tried it all. No better time to settle down.

[And grow old - ha ha.]

[brushoff]

I am getting married, after all. No better reason to settle down than that.

[infomodder]

Just let us know when and if there's something around the house you could use, and we'll be there.

[brushoff]

Toby doesn't eat and I'm a horrid cook so no kitchen supplies, please. But I'm sure I'll think of some appropriate wedding gift you can give me.

[ like hell he's saying no to free stuff. ]

[infomodder]

I'm sure you will. [Because Dorian loves to milk Will for all he's worth, he's known that for a while now...just wait for said milk to spill EVERYWHERE.] Anything else while you got me?

[brushoff]

Nothing I can think of! [ said with a biiiig grin on his face. ]