IC CONTACT

[aggressiveapathy]

Email | Voicemail | Call | Text

Comments

[aggressiveapathy]

Will-

[She cuts herself off. It takes effort, something only a select few (which Will has privilege of place among) get. But she manages it. Trust him.

Jerk.]

I'm keeping these here.

[He can't see and she's not looking, but she balances the half-opened carton of noodles on her knee long enough to quickly pat one of the shirts she's sitting on. Then quickly back to the food. Dropping some is okay, but losing the whole thing when it's some of the last food being brought to her for up to a whole week is another story.]

If you need the porter to bring you back, they're going in the bonfire.

[Too dangerous? God. There will be no dying, Will Graham. No getting seriously injured, either, but mostly the dying thing. Not acceptable. Doing that will turn the next 'do you trust me?' conversation into a very different beast.]

[infomodder]

April—

[He cuts himself off in order to maintain balance with one hand while, as quickly as he can, he turns around in front of her. On his knees, on the floor, free hand moving out to shut the carton so there won't be any spilling before he moves it to take one of hers. If she thinks that he's reached out for her with the hand sporting their wedding ring on purpose, she'd be right. Whether it comes naturally at this point or it's him driving home a point is left for her to guess, the whole thing seems so fluidly and thoughtlessly executed. Will's been in worse spots that a nicely carpeted floor between his wife's legs, there is no need for this to be something he thinks about much. It's a good spot to be in! Even if the current situation isn't as desirable as it could be.]

It's too dangerous for them. I don't know if this guy has any reservations about hurting an animal, but I doubt it. The scars you see on me came from friends, from people I thought were friends. Because I got too close. I have no affection for the guy I'm trying to find now. I'll be fine. This is—April, this is what I do. Before I knew you, or Abigail, or Frederick, or—or anyone from home you've ever met, or I've told you about. This is what I've always done. I find people. I find bad people, and I put them away or I put them down. If this was too dangerous for me [He'd do it without letting anyone know? Nah, that's not reassuring.] I wouldn't be doing it. So you keep these here, and I'll be back as soon as this is over to wear them again.

[It's explanation without plea. The bits of desperation that pepper his tone from time to time are born out of desire to see that she understands, nothing else. Will knows he's not immortal. He knows he can be put down, too. But he knows his skills, his gifts, what he excels at and what he does not. He also knows that him dying at the hands of anyone other than Hannibal Lecter is simply not to be done. If Hannibal arrived and ever found out, goodness, talk about making an enemy right off the bat.]

[aggressiveapathy]

[The food was being removed from the equation, serious conversations were afoot. Which means April watches that food vanish from sight rather than Will until he settles in and went for her hand. Which he gets, easily. Her other one fully puts the food aside and onto the night stand, then over onto the back of his neck to test just how long his hair has gotten now. To complete the Will Graham caged effect, she loosely hooks her ankles against his knees or hips or whatever's closest, as well.

She's not going to tell him not to go. Of course he's going to go. April doesn't marry fixer uppers, she only moves in with what she was already okay with. That didn't stop the whole 'vigilante hunting spree' from being one of her less favorite parts of married life to date, however. Or do anything to move Fred up on her list of favorite people.]

Mm. You're going after someone you know doesn't like you. Way better.

[She tugs his hair just lightly enough to drive the resigned sarcasm home.]

It's- I know. It's you're thing. It's how it is.

[Because it's not fine or okay, but like death or taxes it was part of life.]

Just start leaving a list by the fridge or something. Of people that I shouldn't waste time mocking on internet since you're just gonna go lock them up anyway.

[infomodder]

[A caged-by-April Will Graham is just as happy as an out-at-sea Will Graham, unsurprisingly. He flattens himself against the bed when she hooks her feet into him, tilts his head when fingers take loose hold of his hair. He's been in a variety of cages before, and none of them were anywhere near as desirable as this. He couldn't leave his others. With April, he doesn't want to throw the doors open and run free. It's a wonderful difference and an experience he'd almost been ready to give up on ever finding.]

You're already pretty good at knowing who to talk to and who to avoid. [That tug seems to have also been connected to an invisible line at one end of his mouth, if the half-smile she gets from him is anything to go by. It is way better...Will won't have any reservations with what force is necessary. Of course, maybe that means Walter won't, either. Very good, he might give Will reason to go to extremes if things get heated, and Will won't stand there like an idiot who can't speak due to shock and terror.] Walter White's not here now and I imagine he'll be avoiding the Network, so...

[His arms move to gently rest at her sides as he watches her with a hint of awe, fingers idly tapping against his favorite plaid shirt she's so wonderfully holding hostage. Yes, he's seen the two of them talk, but now she has a name. A name that, should he come knocking to her door, she knows to stare at carefully.]

...shouldn't be a problem.

[aggressiveapathy]

That old guy?

[The petting momentarily stops as April pulls back just enough to look down at his face- or tries to, anyway. She has not released her leg grip on him so the overall effect is more pulling up even harder against the edge of the bed.

But, anyway.

It's not like she doesn't believe him. Of course she believes- but, seriously? The guy that, like, an hour ago was crying on the network and judging her burning based caring style? That was the dangerous raccoon killer? She'd had drinks with him. He'd laughed. She didn't really see him as a danger to herself or her fuzzy collection of lovable scamps. Then again, Baltimore was involved. That seemed to have a way of driving people a specific kind of crazy.]

I thought this was a Crane thing. Is Fred playing Piss Off the World bingo or something?

[And could April count as the free space?]

[infomodder]

[Her question gets a nod as Will essentially becomes as close to one with the bed as he possibly can, fingers lacing together behind her back. He's here, goodness, he's here, on his knees and at her complete mercy. If she had any doubts that he didn't really want to take part on this hunt and leave her behind for God knew how long, this should get rid of them. There are few places he'd rather be than where he is right now, please let him just stay here for the next three days. Please.

But Crane gets a different tilt of his head, observant and curious. He'd gotten the session report, sure, but Chilton had wanted Will to stay away from Crane, not drag him back by the throat. Had that changed? He doubts it. Which is why his date with Crane on Saturday should go splendidly.]

There's some sort of game happening and it's Fred's turn to move. [He shrugs lazily, face morphing into a weariness that could be seen as comical if not for the whole mess afoot. Will has long since accepted that he can be used in games and doesn't mind that life so much. He sort of can't afford to really mind it, considering it's what he does.] I think he and White have been pissing each other off in turns and that's...escalated. And it would be pretty bad if no one found him, since he's. Not in a good state right now.

[So sending Will Graham, who's sanity is questionable and can sometimes seem to fluctuate as easily as water, is definitely the best idea. Why wouldn't it be? He can understand White's sort of crazy without problem!

Of course April is safe. In this game of dangerous men chasing each other like most men chase skirts, April is safe because imagining her so pissed off she springs into action is nightmarish enough to get them to all sit down and think about their life choices for a while. She'll be fine.

She's the smartest one out of all of them.]

[aggressiveapathy]

Ah. So it's all your master plan to be a vigilante grief counselor.

[She doesn't believe that sarcastic statement, not for a second, even as her hands get back to work petting his hair. If she keeps it up long enough and they spend enough time rambling about this and that maybe he'll forget the whole thing and the chinese food can go cold while they do other things...

And maybe the next version of Hannibal that shows up will be an even perkier version of Chris Traeger here to help the world get back into shape and its budgets balanced. Yeah. But it was fun to procrastinate while they could.]

But...you know. If Fred gives me a good report at RISE it's only 'cause he wants me there to help catch the jerks he wants to throw away. So. Don't violate his imPort-rights or whatever while you're out there.

[Don't make her maybe eventual job harder, Will. Don't die, and don't do that. The two cardinal rules of case Ludgate-Graham.]

[infomodder]

[There's a quick, huffy laugh at that before Will goes completely silent, leaning forward to rest his head on her lap and give her full reign over his hair. No need for him to be overly protective of his head here and now, and it'll be a nice memory to have in a few days' time when he finds somewhere to sleep but has issues actually falling asleep.]

Don't worry about that. I would never do anything to breach his rights or taint his reputation. [He has to say that face down, it's too much honesty and sincerity for him to look her in the eye with it. And it's too telling, unbeknownst to (hopefully) anyone but Will and his former caretaker. No one else needs to know the lengths Will has gone to in order to secure Chilton's relative "innocence" while he's been stuck in Heropa, not even April. She'd be part of it then. He couldn't do that to her. But he rolls his neck so he can look at her through a clump of curls, side of his mouth still sporting a smile like it had been pulled that way by an invisible hook.] I'll find something weird to bring back with me. You know I love you, don't you?

[There's her hint: it's going to be something incredible.]

[aggressiveapathy]

I know.

[And thank goodness for being young and flexible because, without releasing her leg grip or her hands in his hair, she's able to bend over and press a kiss to temple. The whole things's still not all okay, but she's fast at adjusting. It'd take much, much more than Will whisking away for a mystery week alone with an older man to really get under her skin. Even if it was at the 'request' of his boyfriend.

And of course, the bribe helped. April wasn't that different from the raccoons in that respect. Bribes always helped.]

I'll just...go sleep with Grey or something.

[Abigail, maybe? Or would that make the whole family a little too close.]

[infomodder]

[To be fair, Will has fallen asleep a time or two (or more) with Abigail in an effort to make sure she actually gets some sleep. Finding out April had done similar wouldn't do anything other than endear him (and Abigail, probably) to her even more than he already is, which is a huge damn feat, all things considered.]

I'm sure he'd like that. [Will has absolutely zero problems with this set up, too, and after a moment wherein he basically rubs his face against her legs like a toddler who does not want to come out of his glorious nap, he straightens up enough to reach for their take out and open it again, pulling chop sticks apart. One last meal before he goes is just fine with him. In fact, it's rather part of his life at this point. Share a meal, leave, maybe never see each other again...except that last part has no place here.] You wanna take a shower with me before I pack and head off?

[Subtle as a brick.]

[aggressiveapathy]

[The perfect kind of subtlety to follow up declarations of love and leaving (not necessarily in that order). It gets a smile, anyway, her first real one of the conversation, as she reluctantly leaves the petting of the Will in order to pick up her food as well.]

You're still not getting any of the shirts back.

[infomodder]

[Oh no, there goes the petting. But it gives him more reason to find White and return with him in tow sooner rather than later, so it's not that bad. Sure, he was motivated enough for Chilton, but coming back to April is a huge factor. If she starts sending selfies or leaving dirty voicemails, he might be doomed.]

You look better in them anyway. Always have.

[aggressiveapathy]

[Which seals his fate of getting a pic of April in each one of those shirts every 12 hours. Starting two hours after he leaves. So is life. She pauses this whole eating process long enough to try and tug him back up on to the bed, where they can eat on a pile of clean sheets and clothing like a real pair of terrible excuses for adults.]

You're telling Abby, right?

[A beat. Then, in the normal deadpan since that question doesn't directly address the fact she means 'about you leaving.']

About me and the shirts. The world has to know.

[infomodder]

[He's good at cues April tosses his way, and he slides back up without hesitation or any sense of personal space. So what if his plaid shirts get wrinkled, he's going for leech-husband mode, even. Isn't his lap the best place for her to stretch her legs? Definitely looks like Will thinks so, clicking his chop sticks as he reaches in to steal from her carton like there aren't others.]

Just wear one and let her see for yourself. She'd know. She's not blind.

[Will fully expects April to pass along the message that Will is going to be out, and he's careful to snatch up the bits of food he's noticed April seems less enthused about it the past. What a guy.]

[aggressiveapathy]

You're gonna earn me an evil stepmomster rep.

[What with delivering all this bad news. She shakes her head slightly, but isn't actually bothered. At all. Being the villain of the story had always been something of a childhood dream, and the step-mother was a solid Disney Evil position. Sure, in her humble opinion there should be no secrets in the house...but, technically, if she tells the 'daughter' about them all then there aren't any secrets, are there? Went with the touchy business of being the same legal entity.

Which isn't enough to stop her from obliging Will and curling up against his side, legs over his, and food angled to allow better access. Living the high life while they can.]

Text

[takethestairs]

Where's your husband?

[aggressiveapathy]

new number
who dis

[takethestairs]

Miles Edgeworth. Now, where's your husband? I've been trying to get in touch with him, but he won't answer any of his messages.

[He knows you're full of it, April, just answer the damn question]

[aggressiveapathy]

if you leave a message after the beep
we will get back to you asap

[there is no beep]

[theminotaur]

[ late at night, the day after promising to call april for bail money, april actually gets a collect call from one of heropa's police stations. press one to accept the call. :) ]

[aggressiveapathy]

[Silent tears of pride as she accepts the call and starts changing out of PJs into normal clothing.]

[theminotaur]

[ the call connects and the first thing abigail blurts out is: ] They didn't arrest me, I'm just in holding.

[ she's a failure. ]

[theminotaur]

He wishes.

[aggressiveapathy]

We'll do the report card later.

Ready to g?

[theminotaur]

Yup. They won't let me leave by myself in case I decide to finish my reign of terror.

[ there is some grumbling on the other end of the line. ]

Apparently that wasn't funny.