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infomodder) wrote2016-11-10 08:05 pm
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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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.]
action! day idek sometime during the middle of week 3's memloss shenanigans
also, there's a dead rabbit on the table. but at least he's put a tablecloth over the table before putting the dead rabbit on top of it (the rabbit is also sitting on top of a metal baking sheet). it's kind of sad when Victor fucking Frankenstein cares more about germs than Hannibal Lecter.]
is it wabbit hunting season already
When he first felt his memory being tugged and twisted, he'd taken it upon himself to write down the names of people he had some sort of connection to, and he'd looked at that piece of paper before he'd come to investigate the noise.
dr. whale (v. f.) baldr flight housemate sting recreation storybrooke
The bare bones of what he knew of his housemate (though recreation stood for several different things he didn't think Whale would appreciate someone coming across later), but in his efforts to protect with initials, he'd looked at it and been more confused than helped from time to time. Fortunately, glancing it at this time had those initials translating into what they really meant (this was real life, this was really happening), and it didn't take him long to shuffle those dogs into his own room so he could handle whatever it was Victor Frankenstein thought a kitchen was for.
The kitchen's loud but not as hot as it should be, he thinks, when he sees a dead rabbit on the table. What other reason is there for a dead rabbit to be in a kitchen unless it's about to be cooked? The stove should be on, there should be utensils out so the rabbit can be skinned and cleaned properly, but there's not. Will stands in the doorway for a moment, putting it all together as best he can (is Frankenstein making Bunnicula, can Will get away with that joke?) and trying to decide what to do with it, how to go about it, wondering if he'll recognize only one name right now.]
Did you get that yourself, Doctor, or did one of the dogs bring it home?
[Doctor seems the safest bet at the moment. So does leaning against the door as opposed to coming in—he's not scared by any means. He doesn't want to come barging in and risk making him more confused than he must already be. And, of course, in ten mintues' time, making them both confused as hell because if Will loses grasp on what V. F. means...
He doesn't care that there is a dead rabbit (how could he! a rabbit! cute bunny! adorable creature!) on the table. He cares that the kitchen and everything in this house manages to stay as intact as it possibly can.]
be vewy vewy quiet, will
As he hears Will's voice, Victor looks up, obviously confused for a moment, before he connects the dots. In the house = housemate. Housemate + not Athelstan = Will! Will was housemate. The confusion fades to a small smile as he nods at Will, pleased that his spotty memory could make that seemingly simple jump. Perhaps he wasn't forgetting as much as he thought.]
One of the dogs brought it home. It was a fresh corpse, so I decided to attempt to recreate my experiments on a smaller scale. Or, at least, to test certain capacities. [Carefully reaching over to a live wire that used to be part of the toaster, Victor brought it towards the animal's leg, lightly touching a spot of the exposed muscle. There was a small spark, but nothing happened.] You see, I don't know the full capacity of these devices, just that they're certainly more advanced than what I owned back in my world. Hand me those pliers, please, [he added in, opening his hand in Will's direction, as the rest of him continued to prod at the toaster.]
My work back home only succeeded as a combination of magic and science--unfortunately, I might add. [he added, with a frown, explaining this to Will like Will was an eight-year-old and Victor was going to tell him why his Science Fair Project sucked. That was always a sore spot, that he had to use magic in order to properly succeed. Oh, most of the credit went to science, of course. Rumplestiltskin or Regina couldn't even conceive of doing something like he had done. But the fact remained that magic had played a not-so-minor role.] In this land, which is a combination of magic and science, I'm certain I can eventually recreate my work.
quiet quiet actual cannibal will graham
There was no attempt to interrupt, no funny look thrown his way when he failed to shock the rabbit or asked Will for a hand like he was some sort of assistant (he'd said please, after all). He simply passed them over like he'd done it fifty times before, like it wasn't an odd request coming from Victor. The tone of voice doesn't bother him, either. Will's not a doctor, and even if he had been? It wouldn't have been with anything physical. This wasn't his area of expertise by any stretch of the imagination, but toasters?
He had a little bit of experience with them.]
You won't get what you're looking for from a toaster. [He said after a moment, nudging that rabbit's leg.] It's meant to make toast. Turn regular bread brown and. Stiff. [Crunchy? He moves around the table as he speaks, picking up bits of the former toaster and already trying to figure out if he can put it back together or not. He squints, shakes it a little—can he salvage it?] Won't bring back a rabbit. Anything. Might spark its fur and set the corpse on fire, but I'm thinking that's not your goal here.
[What was Victor Frankenstein's goal when he made his monster (if it was a real monster)? Will doesn't know. Maybe he can find out, looking at the pieces of the toaster that held it together and nothing else. It's not an accusation—it's an invitation.]
your leg! aaah! it's caught in a bear trap!
Of course that's not my goal, [Victor replied with a scoff. He couldn't ever remember talking to Will about this...but if they lived together, then surely it must have come up. Right? That was how these things worked. After all, his family knew about his work when he lived with them.]
It's selfish of the gods, to have that power in their hands and not share it with us. I simply want to even the playing field. [And that was his justification of the hour. How he flitted between them: to see if he could, to break down the barrier between life and death, to make his father happy and reunite his family again, to provoke the gods and show them up...there was hardly any consistency in his thinking.]
no subject
The toaster bits are put right back where they were before he sits at the head of the table, leaning forward with his elbows on it and his fingers interlaced; it's not a particularly Will Graham way of sitting, but he seems to own it like it is. Dead rabbit? His housemate trying to shock it back into life? Doesn't seem like it's anything out of the ordinary to the not Athelstan part of this group.]
The gods have shared some of their power with us, Doctor Frankenstein. [If he continually says it, it won't vanish from his mind. There's nothing weird about saying people's names multiple times when he doesn't have to, not at all.] To be jealous of those with powers beyond humanity and try to achieve it on your own is akin to making yourself a mortal god, isn't it?
[An arrogant gesture, to play God. A sign that something's not right, no matter what the reasoning behind it is. Create. Destroy. Do it all over again, on a smaller scale. The cost remains the same when it's life on the line.]
Must have been terrific to get that power, even if you needed a little magical help. Was it?
[There's something off about his voice from earlier. It's a different sort of cadence than before, soothing despite the words riding it. He won't notice until later; it's part of his thing they talk about in all those fancy psychiatric circles.]
no subject
Arrogant? Absolutely. But arrogant for a different reason.]
At the start, this was all purely for science, Will, [he dryly retorted, taking the soapy towel back towards the rabbit. Walking over towards the other leg, he started to scrub a small patch of fur. Obviously, he was taking Will's caution about burnt fur close to heart as, after he set down the washcloth, he picked up a razor and started to carefully shave a patch of fur off.]
To test the limits between life and death, to see what humanity could do. Now...I'll be the first to admit that the goals have shifted somewhat, [it became less of 'testing the limits' and more of 'fixing his mistakes.'] but the original thought still remains the same.
no subject
He's watching it, eyebrows furrowed. This is honestly not the strangest thing he's ever been through, but then what is?]
I worked a case back home involving a man who put people into comas, fed their bodies after burying them in the dirt, and turned them into a garden. They lived, unconscious, bodies sprouting mushrooms. Fungus. Don't know how long it took them to die; one of them was still alive when I got there and died on his way to the hospital.
[It's all said so calmly for how terrifying it was. If they're going to discuss the limits of life and death, why stay in the absolute of either being alive or dead, not in between?]
Humanity can do enough putting each other between life and death. Don't need the power of gods to manage it.
[The worst creatures ever made, honestly.
Besides cats.]no subject
Between is something easy to achieve. Hold a man underwater for too long and he'll be between life and death. What I want to do is find a way to traverse those realms--to take someone from the land of the dead and bring them back to the land of the living.
[Because that doesn't sound goddamn creepy at all. Victor continues shaving the leg until there's a large enough spot. Wiping it off with a dry end of the towel, he looked over his macabre dinner table science experiment. One of the dogs pants happily at his feet.]
If only there were some way to increase the power, that should be enough.
[He looks over towards Will, giving him a look that plainly asks 'what do you think?' After all, Will knew more about these machines than he did--he should know which carried the best charge.]
no subject
But it hits that there's a doctor asking him a question like he has some sort of insight on it without having gained it through study. His insight comes from the time he's from, nothing else. He's used to being deferred to by people with more knowledge than him (or, at least, with papers to prove that they "know" what they're talking about), but this is new. It's not about the insane this time.
It's refreshing. His eyebrows lift. He'd heard that right, hadn't he?]
I'm sure it would be. [There's an opportunity here: help Victor Frankenstein bring back something dead. Or try to. How often does that come along?] But. If you use something here, something too much, you risk blowing the power. Our power, power of others here. Doesn't seem fair to everyone else who might suffer for life given back to a rabbit.
[Which he has zero sympathy for.]
Maybe something smaller would react more. Favorably. [His thumbs twiddle idly, like this topic is nothing to be nervous about.] Cockroach?
no subject
The important part of my experiments back home was the heart. Needless to say, it's much easier to view the heart of a rabbit than the heart of a cockroach. [A cockroach. How ridiculous. Nothing is mentioned about the possibility of blowing the power, mostly because Victor has no comprehension of just how interconnected everything is. He has no idea of the scope of the matter, of how large it can be. As such, he's blissfully ignorant of how badly he can fuck everything up.
Reaching over to the toaster, Victor starts to carefully pull a different wire from the underbelly of the device, moving it towards the area of fur he's just shaved off. His movements are delicate, showing that the surgical skills come from Victor Frankenstein as well as Dr. Whale. It's like the world's weirdest game of Operation.]
We're using the rabbit.
[yes, we. Enjoy being surrogate Igor, Will.]
no subject
He looks from Victor to the rabbit, taking in its tiny little body and now-shaved leg like it's nothing out of the usual. Nothing unsettling with a roommate who wants to revive a dead rabbit. Which, honestly, might be worse for Victor, might have him thinking he's been openly him all this time. He can't decide which is more unfair: dropping that he's been in something like hiding or playing along to keep him from being suspicious.
He's had his identity stolen from him before. And, ah, back to similarities again.
Monster to monster.]
It's small. Heart's small. [Captain Obvious, stated like it's the most astute observation he's ever made. He looks to the dog and, without any change in voice, blurts out:] We've got two big dogs here. Big hearts. We could use one of them.
[It's said so casually it might be thought that Will's killed dogs before, despite them all being his dogs. On the tail end of offering to kill a dog, he looks to Victor as if looking for advice on something trivial, doesn't hesitate, and continues.]
My heart would be bigger, wouldn't it? If you're going to blow out the power for everyone else, should do that for something. More substantial.
[He might have said more important had he thought he was as much. He'd never wanted to be too important. The more he'd become just that, the worse things had gotten for everyone he knew. In the grand scheme of Asgard, he wasn't important at all. Didn't want to be.
He has no idea about the truth of Frankenstein's "monster" or any fears Whale might have about him as a patient. If he did and remembered them, he wouldn't say it. But.
Ah. Here they are.]
no subject
But killing Will...well, he objected to that primarily because Will was helping him out at the moment, unintentionally drafted as his assistant. Also because killing? Victor Frankenstein may have been a morally gray scientist (in multiple senses of the word) but he wasn't so sure about outright murder.]
I prefer to find a corpse, [Victor responded, with a frown.] Less messy that way.
[But then, an idea struck him. The main aspect of his work back home was that the heart had to be magical, ripped out of someone's body by Regina or Cora's magic in order to make it work. Here, obviously, they couldn't do it...but perhaps Will could be useful in some other way.]
Besides, you can heal. [he said, as if he was remembering the most obvious fact in the world. Will could heal. Could he keep a heart beating outside of the body, could he simulate the conditions of the heart back home? Well, there was only one way to find out.]
You're more useful not as a test subject. [He started looking around the room, for some sort of cloth to temporarily cover his work station in case they needed to go out.] Tell me, do you know the limits of your powers? Oh, I don't expect you to bring the dead back to life. [That was Victor's job, after all.] I just want to know if you can make a sort of closed circuit...continually healing a dying organ so that it keeps working, even when it is outside of the body.
no subject
Finding a corpse gets nothing out of Will, not a bat of the eyelash or frown or anything to show that it disturbs him. Victor might have said something about how he prefers coffee with creamer and sugar to black for how much of a reaction it gets out of him. Either Victor's normally like this or Will as experience with corpses; he'll let him come to a conclusion on his own. No need to divulge details.
More useful not as a test subject. Not as a dead one, apparently, even when he doesn't have magic to his name.]
I know enough to know I can't do that. [Bring the dead back to life or keep a dying organ working, that's beyond him.] I can stimulate a heart with my hands, but that doesn't work every time and...I'm sure a surgeon can do that, too.
[Unless he's from over a hundred years ago?]
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Needless to say, this is going to provoke a LOT of interesting conversations once Whale's back to normal. Interesting conversations and possibly one or two 'what the fuck is wrong with you's.' As Victor hears about the limitations of Will's power, he lets out a little annoyed huff. Great, Will. What use are you now? He gives Will a look that implies just how personally offended he is at all of this.]
The problem is, hearts tend not to survive the procedure. So they need to be stronger. The ones I used back home were fortified by magic but, unfortunately, that can't be the case here.
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Unfair as it is, Will is still trying to hold onto his mind because he wants to remember this. Whether Whale does or not is of no importance, which he recognizes and promptly decides to not focus on. He's hoped for worse things, wanted worse things, but there's this curiosity running through him about how they combine when this sort of problem isn't tearing through all of Asgard. Does Whale retain these memories and face them daily, is this something of a separate personality...?
There's also no concern given to the fact that Victor seems to find him somewhat useless at the moment. His knowledge of death runs deep, but when it comes to reanimating the dead...he can't do it. No one can, or so he thought. Victor gives him That Face and Will just lifts an eyebrow, almost expecting him to say as much.]
Call up one of the other people in Baldr. [This suggestion is hideously sick, he knows. He's dealing with Frankenstein, though. He might not be such an awful person to say this in front of (and, honestly, Will's thought of similar before; getting it out a bit without worrying about being slammed in prison later on down the road is appealing).] They've got the skills to. Grow things back. Might be able to get one strong enough that they could keep it beating while you...
[He waves a hand, halfway gesturing to the rabbit, halfway trying to verbalize it.]
...do your thing.
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He wants to end death. But doing so at the suffering of others? He's not so sure about that.]
If there was some way to do that but keep the Baldr people from feeling that much pain, I'd certainly try that option. As it is...[he frowned, obviously a little uncomfortable.] As it is, I'm not sure how safe that would be.
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It's wishy-washy. One day he'll be called out on it as if he's never realized it and have no idea how to explain it, knowing how cold a, "But I didn't know or don't care about the Boyles," could sound. A teeter totter of caring too little and caring too much.
He sees a bit of himself in that frown, in the obvious discomfort his suggestion (at least it's blunter) brings. Doesn't like it, either, and slouches in the chair while running his hands over his face to show as much.]
I would. Like. ["Love" he almost said, but there's few things Will truly loves. That word is foul and rotten on his tongue, like the food he imagines himself eating in nightmares both waking and asleep.] To be more helpful, Victor, I would. But I can't. My work with the dead involves ripping open corpses to find evidence and catch the ones who killed them. I don't bring them to life like you're trying. I. Find them at the end of it. Can only try to give justice to family and friends. Don't know how to bring them back. Do know you put too much electricity in that rabbit or anything else, you might end up taking out a lot more than ours and pissing off a lot of already emotionally compromised people.