infomodder | IC Contact [Asgard]

[How to say this, how to say this...

...other than not saying it at all. Telling him to ask his boi Barty would be easier, but the poor guy probably has no idea what he really saw.

And also would probably ask Albus why he knew and if he had ever met a cannibal before.

So suck it up it is, the story of Will Graham's life without wizards.]

All this magic stuff we've been dumped with started backfiring and it was really messy. Have you seen a nug? I had one. I accidentally helped kill a nug without meaning to. It was a very stressful ordeal. [He's not about to tell him (or anyone who doesn't know her) about Beth.] So I went out and we ran into each other. Skin to skin contact, and then it was some bizarre mind-melding session. I don't know how else to describe it. He looked into me, I looked into him, and it wasn't on purpose. It's not his fault. Fortunately he didn't get anything in my head about Asgard. We've already talked about Death Eaters, he and I. It wouldn't have seemed so out of the blue, me knowing who he was.

[We might be going on a date, but I have to send flowers first.

2 far]

I'm not about to press a man stuck in prison about what those things were. I didn't want to scare him anymore than he already was.

[ Yes, he thought it might be that. ]

My condolences for your nug. A misfiring of telepathic ability, then. I can't begin to imagine how unpleasant that must have been. Are you recovered?

You need not ask him. It sounds as though he was remembering Azkaban; I had not known whether he spent any time there, but it does not much surprise me to learn.

The figures that you saw are probably best described as spirits. Called dementors, they guard the place and preside over it. Vicious, and not particularly intelligent, they are completely amortal. They cannot be killed, only displaced.

Unhappiness and ill feeling attracts them, and they cultivate depression of the spirit.

Sounds like a defense attorney.

[Better than saying "wow that is really messed up how do you expect people to recover when you drive them even further into depression what sense does that make" but.]

I'm fine. I had to talk to a doctor about some other things, but I'm fine. He might not be. He didn't exactly catch my mind at its best, and I didn't make it much better.

[...]

There's a reason I asked him about Death Eaters and what it really meant. He kind of figured it out. He's not dumb.

Not half so ghastly.

[ Oh hell, he was right. He was right, his vague paranoid suspicions were right, how were they right? He'd better not be right. This is -- frankly, this is some fucked up shit. ]

Do you worry that he knows?

At least I've never seen a defense attorney float around in a dark cloak. Physically.

[Will thinks wizard turf wars are fucked up shit. What does Albus know now? He's not sure. Death Eaters, food-related jokes and wordplay and...

It's not so difficult to see, unlike poetry.]

That he knows what? He saw plenty of things that really happened and didn't. I catch serial killers by stepping inside their heads, really getting into their shoes, so I have a lot of memories of killing people that I didn't actually kill because that's how I do my job. So he sees me killing someone and thinks I did it, but I don't think he really knows because explaining that is difficult, even to my boss. If you stepped into my head on a bad day, you'd think I just ran around town all my life, sneaking into houses and everywhere else to slaughter people for no reason other than I could. That he knows I've been dealing with crimes back home that turn my stomach and make it difficult to eat meat, that I have a really justified and yet still irrational fear that I'm a cannibal? Sure, he probably does. He just probably doesn't think I'm bothered by it, if what he saw was anything to go by.

I once met one who wore a stuffed iguana upon his hat. Rather, I believed it to be stuffed -- it turned out to be merely a bit wizened, and crawled off midway through the meeting.

Difficult doesn't begin to cover that sort of work; I don't know whether I could manage it.

[ It's not quite a lie. He detaches well enough to handle its implications, but that detachment is precisely what would keep him from the capability. ]

Crouch may think what he likes, though I suspect we'd all rather that he kept those thoughts to himself. You know yourself better than any other.

[ Whether he knows Will is another question entirely, one that he's certain others will have attempted to capitalize on. Still, for all his suspicions, his natural sympathies fall to the underdogs as well. ]

[He's read all the things he can on the network to get a better grasp of this whole world of wizards and magic, and he's not really sure how well his work could ever be understood. He knows he can't exactly understand a wizard's world, of course not, but could they ever grasp a Muggle world like the one Will knows? Not just knows, but the darkness of it he lives and breathes and dreams and sleeps and showers in?

Similar traits. People still being people. And yet all the differences make him a little

curious

How he hates it.]

That sounds a little more exciting than what I usually deal with.

[Also a good thing he doesn't deal with that because he might just think he's gone out of his damn mind if that ever happened.]

He can think whatever he wants, of course he can. I don't mind him sharing what he thinks with me. We get along in our own weird way. [Weird is an understatement.] I just mind him telling someone else. Anyone else. Sure, he's been portrayed as a "psychopathic" man with morality issues, but even a broken clock is right twice a day. It would be unfair to dismiss what he thinks he knows because of his reputation.

[Thinks he knows, yes, he'll spin this into wording that makes it really, really obvious that Will? He's not guilty of what Barty saw.

Not fully, at any rate.]

So are you going to ask what it was like to be in his head? Everything I saw and heard and felt? What about mine, are you going to ask about it in detail?

[For real, who can ignore the cannibalism thing. There's polite and then there's nearly insulting. This is the latter.

The thing about him knowing himself? Albus doesn't understand what an awful thing that is to say to Will Graham. No one here does. The man Abigail knew was sick and getting sicker. She saw him losing it step by step, but she can't know, not really. Albus isn't Lecter. Coming from Lecter, that would be...well, it's a good thing it's not. For both Will and that bastard.

And oh, all those broken clocks. More things no one needs to know.]

Edited 2014-03-30 02:23 (UTC)

Unfair to dismiss outright, of course, though I believe it goes without saying that information from such sources bears a deal of consideration for more than its surface weight.

What Crouch may have seen and heard in your mind -- or you in his -- interests me keenly. It is quite potentially vital to know. However, arguably, it is also not my concern. For that reason, I will not push. I trust that if you find anything of pressing note, you will act upon it to the best of your ability, and that you will inform me or otherwise share if you feel it reasonable.

To be frank, my hesitation lies more within that which Crouch might do with what he has seen, and whether he will seek further contact upon that account, in the guise of getting along. The two-way nature of such connections are, in our own world, imperfect; so easily dominated by a matter of will that they are conceptualized by beginners in offensive and defensive terms.

Vulnerabilities and quirks of thought are exploitable with mental magic, paths of memory may even be surreptitiously followed by the wielder. A mind that operates upon loose structure is as dangerous to own as that of a simple block -- one must be keenly aware of the ways in which they think in order to effectively counter.

You say that you detain the murderous by assuming their point of view.

Empathy is a messy business, Mr. Graham, even in matters less grave. [ Pun? You decide. ] If you hold any doubts (however momentary) of who those memories belong to, I would be very careful of the ways in which you continue contact with Bartemius Crouch.

Edited 2014-04-21 11:43 (UTC)

[He cannot believe what he just read. Granted, Albus can't know how many buttons he's pressing right now, but any part of Will that was previously willing (pun? you decide) feels like it's flown far, far away. No one lectures Will Graham on empathy, who he chooses for company, manipulation of the mind, and then gives him some sort of bullshit advice on what methods he should take when dealing with the murderous.

He's a grown man. He's a profiler. He's got this.

Kind of.]

I know all about empathy. I know exactly which memories are mine, which are the memories of the murderous back home, and which belong to Bartemius Crouch. You don't need magic to exploit the mind and its memories.

[He just doesn't yet know how exactly true that is in his own case.]

If anything happens that relates to anyone but myself and him, I'll inform you. As it is now, it doesn't relate to anyone else.

[Suck it, you magical bearded piece of bird shit.]

Of course.

[ And if he's a remark or two to make about Will's relation to broader Asgard, he holds it back. There's no reason to continue this conversation for the time being; he's said his piece. ]

I think we're done here, don't you? Or, I should say: I'm done here.

[bye forever albie]

Have a good evening, Mr. Graham.

IC Contact [Asgard]

will graham/derek hale otp

'wolfhound'

better than hms wolfstar lbr

there's a band called starfucker and i feel like that's relevant

there is never a time where this would not be revelant

late like will's late mother

wow rude!!!! he doesn't know her maybe she's still alive. just not alive in his life. a bloo bloo

Re: wow rude!!!! he doesn't know her maybe she's still alive. just not alive in his life. a bloo blo

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is that will's cobra neck icon. go talk to moran, will.