ᴀᴘʀɪʟ's ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ (
infomodder) wrote2015-09-12 01:24 pm
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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 ]
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Of course, rather than focus on the kinder aspects, his minds jumps to the horror immediately. Conditioning.]
Thanks for listening. [Abruptly, he looks at his watch, face that usual, neutral mask. It's not been long at all, but he seems to be showing all the signs he's ready to leave. And on the tail end of confessions! Yikes. Except...] You have dinner plans? Saw a promising little diner on my walk here.
[It's basically a fancier Waffle House and that's part of the charm. Also part of the charm? Frederick Chilton in his fancy clothes asking how Will can really sure that the seats are not sticky, why would take me here, yes. That sounds great. Better than going home in a half hour or so to stew some more.]
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She had told Chilton that she would find herself thinking differently. She blamed the broken marrow that had spilled into her bloodstream, but Chilton knew better. She had always possessed a dagger in her smile -- it was what he liked about her.
It was what he would come to regret about her.]
A diner, Will?
[The pained look on Chilton's face underscored that he understood the humiliation implied.]
no subject
[Confirmation comes as Will pushes himself to a stand, nodding along in case the words aren't enough. He's smiling, though. They're all friends here. The two of them. And any stag-shaped statues. Probably.]
Come on. Where's your sense of adventure? [He checks his pocket, making sure his wallet's there.] We can go somewhere normal for once.
[Spicing it up with salt and pepper instead of sage and oh my God is that a tongue, Hannibal please, why, who hurt you.]
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[Well, reluctantly and only most of the time. But Chilton possessed a medical need to watch his protein intake -- if he lapsed to often in that regard, then he would be forced to reduce his alcohol intake.
One kidney could only withstand so much.]
Do they have a vegan option? [A, singular (as if any rustic diner couldn't exceed beyond that much), and spoken with a sneer. Frederick Chilton wasn't going down without a fight, Will might have to unleashed the collar.]
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[A rare phrase to come out of Will Graham's mouth. It's accompanied by him ever so helpfully moving to shut any window curtains that might need it — if not, perhaps a lamp is on? Or maybe he left a pen uncapped. Or maybe nothing and Will ends up meandering like a lost little lamb. It's an easy flow. No rush, no stumbling. Comfortable. If Chilton imagines Will doing this with Hannibal's desk lamp, with those sinister curtains, he wouldn't be wrong. Some habits die hard — he who runs the space will always be the one who shuts it, who locks it, of course, but small gestures of aid within another's domain are simply helpful, aren't they?]
One way to find out. [And then, if the idea of friendly ADVENTURE is not enough, he adds:] You chose that brunch place. S'my turn.
[This for that, forever.]
no subject
Chilton sucked at his lower lip, his eyes cast downwards. He chose that brunch place, now was Will's turn.]
I suppose.
[Chilton, while deeply unethical when his personal ambition was concerned, nevertheless maintained a sense of fairness in all other social regard. He invested in his image, and therefore how his image reflected his relationships; it would have been rude to act hypocritically. And there were some reflections that Chilton didn't want to see staring back at him.
With a mock gesture, his elbow at a right angle and his flat palm pointed at the door, Chilton said:]
Lead the way.