ᴀᴘʀɪʟ's ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ (
infomodder) wrote2016-11-10 08:05 pm
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IC Contact [Asgard]




Catch all IC contact post for Will Graham at
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[ Text | Voice | Video | Action ]
[Note: Will is unlikely to use video unless there is a good need for it. He'd be more inclined to do text until he's made a substantial recovery and becomes more comfortable with voice.]
and dave crowl on the drums
The anchor that ended up ruining him entirely, hook, line, and sinker.
Will is not seeking a replacement paddle here in Asgard, nor does he need it. For the first time in a long time, he's seeing clearly. Perhaps his psychoanalysis has kicked into overdrive thanks to things that happened before he came and has no intention to ever tell anyone about, but he doesn't think he can be blamed for being a little paranoid. Still, he's not damaged enough to see anyone with the ability to manipulate as a serial killer who would be more than happy to share a meal with him that's not exactly what they say it is.
Albus is pretty lean, he notes. Probably doesn't indulge in gourmet meals featuring human organs. Probably.
"I don't think anyone could blame you for thinking of me as boring." Samantha bounds back up on the bed, and his hand goes through her fur like it belongs nowhere else. She also serves as a welcome, tangible reason to look away. Hopefully, Albus finds Will interesting only on a level of his work, not a level of winding him up and watching him go. He's not about to go through that again, or spend all his time fighting it. "So that works out really well, since basically everyone has mostly seen me as that guy who might like dogs a little too much." Yes, he knows people must think he's hoarding them. He'd rather be that crazy dog man than anything else. At least then his crazy would be contained to collecting dogs, not collecting memories of the criminally insane and keeping an encyclopedic account of methods he could use to disarm, injure, maim, kill, and then set up the body in a fashion that would make opera enthusiasts shake their heads at how over the top the entire thing is. "I'm familiar with Miss Carnahan, which works in our favor."
Too bad he won't be able to tell her any of this, even if he wanted to.
"I'll let you know. We're gonna have to save talk of lies and truth for later. I haven't had breakfast yet."
A breakfast he cooks himself that includes absolutely no meat whatsoever, naturally.
Re: and dave crowl on the drums
Albus moves to leave, tipping his head one last time to the larger dog.
no subject
Hopefully, Abigail doesn't press too much. Hopefully, Abigail's father never comes up in her conversations, because Will would rather not deal with that. Deal with the fact of the matter that she's going to have to put up with people who won't take kindly to it and that she's telling their secrets like she didn't with Lecter. Isn't that a selfish thought?
The offer seems to bother him as much as the mere mention of him being interesting, jaw clenching. It could very easily be taken as a man who enjoys his own cooking getting the idea that his toes are being stepped on. In reality...well, it's not something he ever plans on coming out, either. His eyes don't leave Albus, not needing to in order to figure out he's giving a moment's notice to the other dog in the room. It's not until a little tongue wets his palm that he realizes he's supposed to say something in return, because that's just good manners. That's polite. Even though certain people aren't around, he hasn't forgotten what exactly becomes of the rude.
It just doesn't always stop him.
"I'll pass on the recipe." He'll pass on anything that Albus thinks he needs for as long as he can. He might even pass on a glass of water, just to show that he doesn't need anything he can get himself. He's a grown man, no one needs to help him figure out how to make scrambled eggs. Granted, that's not what sharing recipes is about, but he has to put up those walls. "You too. Have a good one."
A good one way, way, way far away from Will Graham.
no subject
Albus doubts that he'll like the possibilities, no more than Graham plainly (dis)likes him. But they've already spoken of means and ends, and his ends are already well-decided -- Graham is sharp, he is a almost annoyingly perspicacious, and he has been set upon the proper path to make that of use. It's the measure of the man that blooms interesting now, and the means of handling him.
"For the best," He grants. "Until then, Mr. Graham."