ᴀᴘʀɪʟ's ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ (
infomodder) wrote2015-09-12 01:24 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Entry tags:
ic contact 2 mask or menace




"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 ]
no subject
After a few moments of confusion wherein Will obviously has no idea what to say, he defaults to this little thing known as politeness.]
Thank you. [Quiet, genuine despite the wondering why behind it all.] Little Fluffy Shithead help you dig holes?
[It's a cute image, okay.]
no subject
Mike nods the customary you're welcome nod.]
Nah. She watched me some, but I kept her tied up to trees away from the holes 'cause I didn't want to fill up a hole and then not be able to find her and have to dig up the hole again to make sure she wasn't in there.
[He says it so seriously. Like, yeah, accidentally burying the dog and not knowing he'd done it was a real concern.
Mike reaches not for the gun or the leash but the coffee he set aside.]
I lied to you before.
[Truth-telling hour.]
no subject
...lied to me about what?
[Sincerely curious, nothing else. No offense, no anger. And judging by the otherwise relaxed body language, none of that is to come.]
no subject
My death. It was a one. No shootout, no car chase, no explosions. Guy I'd been friends with since we were kids drove me out into the woods and killed me.
[Hopes Will feels better about his four. And... whatever number the latest death gets...]
no subject
Will lowers his cup first, giving Mike his full attention. Once the real horror of it all sinks in, he sets it back on the counter and runs a hand over the back of his neck as a hamster in a rodent ball joins them. The hamster will roll right into Mike's feet, bounce off, and then continue out if Mike leaves him be.]
Christ. [When words fail, swear. Mike understands that sort of politeness.] How do you figure that classifies as a one?
[Since it sounds like a damn horrible nightmare to most people, doesn't it? Childhood friend murdering them? That's sheer terror.]
no subject
It's definitely not a cool death. [Dumb to cool, getting murdered by your bro in the woods is solid dumb. But...]
Maybe a two. Could have been more dumb. Could have been like a dumb accident. Trip on somethin'... [Maybe a fuzzy rodent thing in a rolly ball.] ... Fall and die.
[Yeah, that's less cool than death by friend hug.]
no subject
Dumb. Mike considers his death dumb, just a step above falling down the stairs or passing out in the bathtub. For a man who made his last act one of the most anticlimactic murder/suicides he could think of, that gets at him. Under his skin. Will hadn't minded dying in ways that people could look at and go "okay?" And he doesn't consider that sort of betrayal dumb at all.
He's been on both sides of it.
Will glances at the hamster after Mike does, worries his bottom lip between his teeth a few seconds after Mike finishes, and nods his head once.
Then he goes to the fridge and withdraws a nice beer, pulling out a bottle opener from the drawer next to it. Not gas station or convenience store beer, something a step up. Didn't cost an arm and a leg but it ain't cheap shit.
The lid pops up in a fluid, polished movement. Will has opened beer bottles before.
Without asking or any hesitation, he extends that bottle directly to Mike.
Drink to his death, drink to the truth coming out, doesn't matter.
This calls for a Goddamn drink.]