IC Contact [Asgard]

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Catch all IC contact post for Will Graham at asgardeventide
[ 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.]

Comments

runs to old school stuff to combat that https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NHywdqH3F6Y

[infomodder]

[He hadn't told Kate, but they'd been texting. It was easier to hide what would be taken as embarrassment if he said the name, and it would be easier to just say no over and over again. She wasn't looking at him, she wasn't looking at her. But here Whale was, trying, prying, smiling as he tossed out that lure. Any lure with the name Hannibal Lecter on the end of it was destined for something awful happening in the end. Lures were named after people that were cherished. The hope, then, was that they would come back to him. He didn't cherish Lecter, and he never would. If he ever got those memories back...any part of him he could try to find comfort in would be destroyed.]

I didn't realize there was a surplus of psychiatrists in Asgard. [Were there really? Were any of them trained in the sort of doom and gloom like Alana had been, like Lecter, like Chilton steeped himself in, would continue once he'd recovered? He didn't need one, and he sure as hell wasn't able to go to Alana with it. Not yet.] I'm curious now, Doctor Whale, how you came to be the one to tell Alana I was here. Did the FBI come up? Did she ask for...names?

[When he finally looks up, there's little truly happy in that smile. There's little truly happy in Will Graham in the first place, and maybe Whale can see that now. See why. But he doesn't give that question time to settle, not really, because if he gives him his full name.

Oh yes. There is a joke to be made.]

His name is Doctor Lecter. [He can't even bother trying to pretend it's not obvious, though the idea of calling Lecter a cannibal is still rather gross in his mind. It all starts to add up, though, doesn't it? To horrific ends. Gourmet chef. What if? It's such a croaky voice he says it in, too. He hasn't said it out loud to anyone other than Abigail. It's almost like his mere name is so painful it leaves his throat dry enough to make his voice crack.] Doctor Hannibal Lecter, based in Baltimore, Maryland.

[God, he knows it's coming. He knows it in every fiber of his sick body, and he lets out a puff of air as if to say oh yes, he's thought of it. But really, could it be...that?]

I know what you're going to say. If he ever comes to Asgard, don't say it to him. He doesn't tolerate rudeness. That's very rude. He can't help what his parents named him.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3af4Gz4Daw everybody know he's a motherfucking monster

[ex_galvanist88]

[As Will asked how he managed to tell Alana that he was here, Whale simply gave the camera a little frown, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, despite the fact that his patient and friend just confessed that he was accused of killing women and would probably go to an asylum when he returned home. Nope, not a problem, don't mind his little frown and trying to regain some sense of normalcy in this conversation that was running the gamut from psycho killers to reanimation.

Truth be told, Whale had no idea how many psychiatrists there were in Asgard. But, considering the fact that he kept running into professionals in the city (doctors, FBI agents, probably a cop by now, who knows to begin with) he was certain that there were at least a few psychiatrists here.]

I ran into Alana in the hospital, actually. [Whale said, casually, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing.] I mentioned that a lot of people here seemed to have at least one person they knew from home, she asked about you. You weren't the only name she mentioned, though. She mentioned...Jack somebody, I know that much.

[It had been almost a week since their introduction, Whale couldn't help the fact that Jack Crawford's name had slipped his mind since then.] The FBI came up, but we didn't talk about it that much.

[As Will starts to say the name, Whale leans into the camera bit, listening intently, as if Will's about to reveal a bit of juicy gossip instead of the name of the man who had massively screwed up his life. And hey, Hannibal. That rhymes with cannibal.

...

wait a goddamn minute. That small theory that Will wasn't as mentally sound as Whale had thought and was instead using Hannibal as a scapegoat because he wanted answers that bad? Oh yeah. It's gaining some ground. There's no way that Hannibal was a cannibal. That...well, to start with, it was silly. If someone was named Hannibal, you think they would purposefully pick a life-path that didn't rhyme with their name. That'd be like Doctor Proctor: utterly stupid. Although, he was pretty certain a gourmet chef would have ways to make people not taste like people--not that Whale had any idea what people tasted like to begin with.

Note to self: eat salads around Will, just to be on the safe side. Drinking was okay, there wasn't any way you could put people into alcohol (was there?)]

My last name is "Whale." [Kind of.] I know not to make stupid jokes based on people's names.

i can't beat that. i have a million monster songs, but no one can beat nicki. it is known.

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[The mention of Jack has the most hideous attempt at a smile plastered all over Will's face. At first glance, it could appear like he has just seen his best friend after being apart for far too long, but the look in his eyes is positively mad. Oh yes, he knows a Jack. He can't blame him, has had time here to work things out, but God, what is going to happen if he can't get anyone to believe him back home?

He's been a little awkward, naturally. Maybe a little withdrawn. Too many dogs. Carries bacon in his pockets now. Odd, that Will Graham. This man right now, this supposed serial killer and cannibal and everything wrong that one person could be, is one other thing that cannot be avoided: extremely bitter. He is so, so bitter. A bite of him would have the tongue recoiling, the taste buds burning.

A side of Will that hasn't been shown before comes up in this conversation, and not just because of all the new information. Now that names are pouring out, he cannot even pretend to hide that no, he's not just a little "off"—he's got way more to him than that.]

Jack Crawford. He was my boss, head of the unit I worked with. [If he looks bitter, it's nothing compared to the way he sounds.] Your name is Whale. His name is Hannibal. You know not to make jokes, but it's there, isn't it? The thought. The thought everyone was too polite to bring up.

[It rhymes. He's not in a cell at the moment with a thousand years to try and work things out while hoping he's not given placebos and doesn't end up dead before he can really unravel the mystery, but it's a matter of time.]

Alana doesn't have any idea, Doctor Whale. It seems we don't remember the same things. It seems things happened that she's not aware of. [Is it respecting her to keep it from her, and to keep everything about Abigail here from her, too? Is Will's request that Whale treat her right stemming from his inability to decide if he's doing just that? Hard to tell, but he's obviously conflicted. Bitter. Boiling, almost, possibly a ticking time bomb, because it does sound crazy, doesn't it. Paranoid. Like he's almost picking at Hannibal just because of his name, it's so easy, such a simple thing to jump to.] So. You're Frankenstein. Regina Mills will answer any questions. I won't ask her any questions. I won't tell a single soul what you've told me today.

[Oh yes, it's obvious that Will expects as much in return. If he's lying, if he's really this terrible serial killer, why would anyone want to upset him?]

Do you want me to call you by that name when we're in private?

[Will is Will. Sometimes Mister Graham, but only to certain people. There's no reason for him to ask to be called anything else. Definitely not the Copycat. But if Whale wants to be Victor or Frankenstein...]

you are speaking my language

[ex_galvanist88]

Of course the thought's there, [Whale responded, utterly befuddled and utterly grumpy.] Hannibal the cannibal. [It was too simple, too easy. Hannibal the cannibal and Hannibal the murderer, psychiatrist so he could spot the troubled patients that no one would miss, surgeon so he could know how best to remove organs, gourmet chef so he could cook the meat, tenderize it and make it taste less human. And then what? Serve it up in a casserole dish? Have reheated human for supper on the days when he worked late?

Needless to say, he's going to have to do a little investigation of his own. Just gently bring up Will Graham to Alana, see what she thinks, posing it as a concerned friend, someone who cares, not the man's doctor who is starting to worry ever so slightly that he's gotten in over his head. He was a surgeon, not a psychiatrist. He could help cure Will's encephalitis. He couldn't cure any mental diseases.

And then they're back to Victor Frankenstein, like Hannibal the cannibal was just a passing thought. And really, Whale's thankful that Will won't ask Regina any questions. Out of all the people here, she's the one that could damn him the fastest. After all, he ruined her life twice over--and that is not a subject Whale is fond of going into at the moment.]

Don't worry. As far as I'm concerned, none of this leaves this...bracelet. [He can't exactly say 'none of this leaves this room,' now can he. And he's sincere in his words: he won't mention Will's thoughts on Hannibal Lecter to anyone else. That being said, there wasn't anything wrong with getting a second opinion on the man himself, or confessing to Alana his doubts of Will's sanity...but that was an entirely different can of worms he needed to sort out before he could do anything.] But call me whatever you want. Most people call me Whale nowadays, but I'll answer to anything.

[Whale, Victor, Frankenstein, that asshole over there...]

rap and gaga?

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[Gourmet chef who hosted dinner parties, who had people over for dinner whenever he could, Hannibal the cannibal. He can't even pretend to smile, he just flat-out grimaces. No one was that out of their mind, were they? No one would do that. Why would they do that? It made no sense. The devil is in the details, and Will Graham has all the time here in Asgard to pick them apart. If Whale ends up asking Alana and she informs him of Lecter's love of sharing his food with others, then he can draw his own conclusions from that. No need for Will to just continue dumping everything on him. He's already chucked quite enough on him.

Besides, Will's not the one obsessed. He's not obsessed with Lecter. It's the other way around. Right? Of course it is.

He does have a little curiosity about Regina Mills and makes a note to look for her, but he won't mention Whale out of the blue (oh dear).]

Doctor Whale. [His lips twitch a little; this conversation has been so heavy that trying to work it into something light and humorous is actually physically difficult.] Also known as the guy I can hit up when I have a little too much to drink and can't stop singing The Police so I just have to share the experience.

[One day, it will happen. That's not a sign that he's crazy. No, it's a sign that Will appreciates someone who knows his kind of music. He couldn't call up Lecter with that, couldn't belt out some operatic shit in Italian, even if he was completely sober.]

Thank you. For everything.

[It's clear those aren't words Will says much. He even drops his eyes, contact lost, swallowing, biting his lip. Jesus, where do they go from here, seriously?]

If you need anything, just holler. You know how to find me.

[Who the hell shouts at a guy going to prison for being a cannibalistic serial killer? Who the hells shouts at Victor Frankenstein? Oh, things he never thought he'd wonder.]