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]

Not like you make it sound.

[slightlyoffchilt]

Have you been spending most of your hours as a dog? Since April left?

[infomodder]

Just at night.
I was in that different sleep for a week. Pretty sure I wasn't a dog through all that.

[slightlyoffchilt]

I hadn't run into you. I went in, willingly.

Did you come out all right, Will? Given how violent our exits needed to be?

[infomodder]

What do you think.

[slightlyoffchilt]

I am here. If you need to talk about it.

Or about her.

[infomodder]

Thank you. I mean that sincerely. I may take you up on your offer soon.














What time is it?

[slightlyoffchilt]

Do you not have clocks in your house any longer?

1/2

[infomodder]

[A blip he doesn't mean to send:]

way too fucking hungover to turn LIGHTS on he's always breaking my balls

[infomodder]

[About 20 seconds later]

Are you free Tuesday evening?

[how hungover is will? well he has to ask for 2 days to get his shit together so]

[slightlyoffchilt]

I am now.

What was that about ball breaking?

1/2

[infomodder]

what

[infomodder]

[Another half minute...]

Nothing. Your office about 6 work?

[slightlyoffchilt]

Are you dissociating while texting me?

[infomodder]

No.

[slightlyoffchilt]

I have questions.

Luckily, we are meeting in person regardless.

[infomodder]

Yes. You have time to forget your questions.
See you then, Frederick.

[slightlyoffchilt]

I have already written them down. Just for you.

Until then, Will.

[infomodder]

[Will arrives early but not too early. Early enough that he's there whenever Chilton makes an appearance. As for appearance, Will is...furry. His slacks are black, his shirt a dark green plaid. He's rather a sad, bearded harbinger of brutality and murder, waiting without kicking up any bit of fuss.

Legs stretch out. He crosses his ankles. He leans back, head over the back of the chair, and interlaces his fingers over the scar line along his stomach. Staring at the ceiling, drinking in the closest lights, he lets the quiet hmmmmmmm act as lull instead of alarm. How many nights had that been the only noise in his cell to focus on, an exercise to help drown out and learn to focus?

About three minutes later, Will Graham falls asleep. In the waiting room at one of those places he doesn't much care for. Very normal, very good sign he's totally fine. Yes.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

Really.

[Scorn in his voice -- an intonation arrow pointed specifically at Will's scruff, his unshaven look of despair. Harrowing loss and tragedy and pain lined his figure, but Chilton knew better than to pity.

This is what they were. This is from whence they came.]

Come on in, Will. You look -- well, I am surprised Reggie did not mistake you for one of your dogs, let's put it that way.

[infomodder]

[Will hops to and slides in without flashing Chilton so much as a hint of teeth, a twitch of lips. Truly he is at the bottom of all bottoms. It doesn't get any lower than this. If he was covered in blood? That would be a step up.

Probably shouldn't tell Chilton that though.]

You don't like beards?

[Question delivered with a lilt, enough to be taken as more than talk of facial hair. It's also the only time he looks at Chilton. Then he's hands in pockets, meandering around the desk, glancing at the bookcase, and...

Sitting. Sorta. Sit-leaning on the edge of his buddy's desk, rather close to the chair. He lets out a deep, weary breath and his shoulders sink enough to show he has Settled and chosen this as his perch.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

[He cocked an eyebrow, recognizing a glib dish when served. Don't like beards, indeed.]

Are you egging me on for additional criticism? Your masochism outstrips us all.

[Chilton soon averts his own gaze, the discomfort in the air nearly tangible.]

What happened? Something had happened.

[Beyond April and Hannibal, and Chilton trusted Will to know he meant aside from that.]

[infomodder]

I was using the...

[A hand lifts so he can tap his temple with a finger. As if Chilton's curiosity was about the weird messages and nothing else. Not about the root of the issue beyond April, beyond Hannibal, beyond loss and a horrific gain.]

Not a good idea when you're hungover. Filter doesn't work so well.

[Something happened indeed.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

How long have you been hungover?

[He inquired with light curiosity, but not without judgement.]

I have never know you to -- how shall we phrase it? -- allow subconscious free flow into the mental link capability of the communicator.

[infomodder]

[Hands wrap around the edge of Chilton's desk. One set of fingers lightly taps, the other gripping it solidly.]

Today is the first day I haven't had a drink in... [Tap, tap, tap, he lifts his eyes and shrugs a shoulder.] ...since she left.

[A glance at his watch.]

Almost been twenty-four hours now.

[He knew better than to show up compromised. Knew better than to make things easy on Chilton. Knew that Chilton had liquor about if worse came to worse.]