standsonhigh: (Talk with your Master)
The Master | Saxon Era ([personal profile] standsonhigh) wrote2016-11-23 08:44 pm

IC inbox | Asgard



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infomodder: IF YOU'LL FEAST ON MINE (ACTUAL SPECIAL INVESTIGATOR)

[personal profile] infomodder 2014-03-19 05:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[Mind games, Will can do, although he's not such a fan of them (they get turned back on him even he knows all the usual tricks), but mild threats? Not exactly his forte. The last one he threw out, if it could be truly taken as a threat, was simply him telling a certain journalist that pissing off the guy who thinks about murder for a living isn't that smart of an idea. He'd promptly gotten in trouble for it, considering she ran off and tattled about it for all the world to see, but anything more than that? Hah. He's not about to sit across the way from someone and go on and on about how he's got soooo many brutal acts that result in suffering and death in his head, he really shouldn't be messed with. Do what he says or there will be pain in the end—not happening, not without extreme reason, and maybe not even then. He doesn't even remember the voice in his head saying that at any point, though maybe it was said out of his earshot.

Lecter didn't seem the type to throw out threats either. He just acted.

If Will was called a hero to his face, he'd honestly have no idea what to make of it. A hero. Him? Nah. As for the dog, he's too busy being passed out and probably dreaming of bacon and baths and nearly kicking Will off the bed as he sprawls out than anything else. He's too busy to go running around licking fingers or biting ankles, the lazy mutt.

Will doesn't mind not being the immediate focus, always preferring to be in the background if he can help it. Now, he can't. Not with Alana here and not knowing people, and Will realizing he doesn't know much about the Master, either. He holds eye contact for a moment, listens to him talking about titles, and turns to more towards the kitchen and start putting everything on plates. Listening, but doing something like hosting at the same time. Is this hosting? Hell, he's not Lecter. That voice in his head would be a little handier if it would start shucking out some advice on the whole matter. When had he ever been truly helpful, though? Starting now would reflect more on Will than anyone else. Best it doesn't.
]

I've got a few titles back home myself, but they don't really transfer worlds. Special Investigator. [Does the Master know what that means? Does anyone other than law enforcement pick up on it? Hell if he knows, and he's not going to explain it if he doesn't have to, and not even in full detail.] I'm not bothered by titles. I run in a circle that has plenty of doctors, and it's rude to refuse them that. [Even if they're assholes.] The Master's just a little overwhelming, isn't it? Grand, as you said. Raises the hairs on the back of the neck, the connotations that come with it considered.

[He's seen Lecter pick up plates in the most impressive of ways, and he's not so bad at replicating it. He's not a gourmet chef or a waiter by any means of it, definitely not, but he manages not to look like he's an idiot in the kitchen when he sets them both down and starts tugging his sleeves back down as he doesn't have anything to worry about them getting stuck in. Very human, Will. He'll ignore it for now.]

Not sure it's an honor, and I'm not sure what you might think about earning it. We've simply got a mutual acquaintance and I thought it best we talked. He's had a rough time lately. I'm a little worried. [And Alana. He's sure that goes without saying, but was the Master expecting Barty to be a catalyst for this, too?] Please, sit. We've got water and I've made sweet tea, but there's also coffee and...yes, the hot tea on the stove. I followed directions. I don't make it at home.

[Hot tea is dirty water.]
infomodder: gourmet chef cannibal i am also a cannibal (and he fed me people)

[personal profile] infomodder 2014-03-19 08:13 pm (UTC)(link)
I work with the FBI, if you know it. I used to be a homicide detective but moved out. Got a degree in forensic science to work in the labs. Went into the field for the Bureau, taught at the Academy, and I ended up getting called back into the field before I came here.

[It's fact, nothing more. There's no gloating, no trying to be impressive. This is Will's resume. It's what he'd put on anything that required it, and there's no motivation in him right now to lie about anything. A few secrets here and there, but his career isn't one of them. It comes out honestly, openly, even as his eyebrows furrow at the idea of tea being made poorly. It's not a personal insult, he realizes, but what, then, makes hot tea good? Is there some secret ingredient?

"For" the Bureau. Getting called back. Oh no, that was not Will's choice. He didn't want it. He hated it, but one does what he must when he can't stand the outcome of lives taken when he could have prevented it. Hero? Not really. Selfish, he'd argue.

Water is gotten without any difficulty, and he moves to sit across from Harry, posture in his chair as relaxed as he can make it. That one bad shoulder may seem a little tense, but he has a good reason for it. He was shot, for Christ's sake.
]

All that said, I can say I don't mind the dry spell. It's a relief. It's not like I was getting into retirement back home anytime soon. [Retirement? No. Not quite. Something else, though. He tilts his head, leans back, takes a good, long look at him. There's no antlers here. Hopefully it stays that way.] Barty Crouch. I've seen you speaking. Very friendly, or so appearances make it seem. And what you said to Professor Snape shooed me in that direction further. Barty and I have run into each other a few times and keep up. After that entire disaster where his family issues were dragged out so mercilessly, I was a little concerned about his well-being.

[Is it a mind game? Maybe. Maybe it's just chess. Maybe it's just Will talking while the food cools down enough so he can stand it without burning the hair off his tongue.

So many maybes, and not one Junior to be found. Barty doesn't like it, so Will doesn't use it. The idea of calling someone dangerous something they don't like smacks of pure and utter stupidity to him. He's done some stupid things, but provoking people in Asgard with histories and magic that might be impossible for him to really combat in a physical fight?

That's so mind-numbingly stupid it's just insane.
]
Edited (hi i'm a serial editor please forgive) 2014-03-19 20:18 (UTC)
infomodder: the fandoms are merging (eatin' like a dothraki)

[personal profile] infomodder 2014-03-19 10:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[There's absolutely nothing poisonous to be found on the table. I wouldn't do that to the food. The Master takes a drink, but Will doesn't follow suit. Not yet, anyway. It's not wine, there's no huge ceremony about drinking it, and Will Graham? Not used to playing host. He's watched it done and seen it done well, but to go overboard with it might make him seem nervous, and it would inwardly upset him because you're being so much like Lecter right now, how would he feel about it?

He talks, and Will doesn't look away, eyes on his face, holding eye contact whenever it makes his way to him. He's still as relaxed as possible in that chair, and there's no real move made other than the steady rise and fall of a breathing chest until he mentions his lack of Junior. Hypocritical to comfort him? There was a reason Will didn't shit all over the place like a fat lot of other people couldn't say. There was a reason he ended up speaking privately to him. It doesn't bother him, the possibly accusation in that. When the bone comes up, Will just about rolls his eyes, and he finally leans forward to move his own glass closer and start cutting into his food.

Talking about heavy topics over a first meal. This is familiar. A lot of it is familiar, and he enjoys the unhealthy comfort in that as much as he despises himself for welcoming it.
]

He's endeared himself to me, I can't lie. [There's something in that that the Master won't pick up on unless he's been told, and it's a little bit of wordplay. Endeared? Eh. Endeered, however, yes, that has been done. If he asks Barty, Will wonders if he'd get what Will had really been saying with it. Maybe cough up information, who knows?] He spoke on what he thought was dangerous about Professor Snape, same as others have done on multiple occasions here. The bit about that Neville Longbottom boy and Draco was rather tasteless, yes. But to bring up his own family issues so blatantly and in depth isn't the way to go about things. If he'd been spewing on at length about Professor Snape's mother and father, it wouldn't be so unsavory. It's all awful, yes, but there's rising to the bait and then there's that. They aren't comparable. I'm not rushing to either side.

[A bite of fish, chewed slowly, eyes on the Master and nobody else, Will doesn't look like much of anything, truth be told. Just another guy who'll need to shave in a day and has some unruly curly hair. Ordinary.

He wants to look like that, because his appearance being misleading is something he's going to bank on if he ever goes home.
]

He doesn't like the Junior part. Perhaps I should have just called him Barty, then. Or Bartemius, whichever.
infomodder: IF YOU'LL FEAST ON MINE (hello empathy my old friend)

[personal profile] infomodder 2014-03-20 02:34 am (UTC)(link)
[Unless Will has been starving (and, with as scrawny as he can sometimes appear, it might be thought he doesn't eat much in the first place), there's no reason for him to suddenly be so focused on eating as as the Master continues. The word empathy has one of Will's shoulders tensing, which he'd blame on being shot if he could bring himself to tell anyone just why he'd been shot. He doesn't get to say "I was shot" without risking being asked about it in depth. It's not a paper cut or something he can blow off as minor, so minor he didn't know how it happened. How could he forget a bullet piercing his skin?

Warning, warned, warn this and that—Will's already talked about his take on it, though the conversation with the Master got rather off the point. Fortunately so, even if the idea of superpigs wasn't one that gave Will much to mull over later. It served its purpose well enough. He got what he wanted, Asgard proved itself full of people like the ones he knew so well. Mission accomplished.
]

I'd say just about anything is easier than having empathy. Building a castle all by myself would be easier than having empathy. [That could swing two ways, as far as Will would read it. Either he has trouble with empathy in the way that he has too much, or he hasn't got an ounce of empathy in him at all. It's a little grumbled, and he does seem aggravated by the word itself, but he doesn't expound further before he takes a sip of water. When the dog lets out a tiny bark in its sleep, he barely seems to notice. Either he's extremely used to it or he's more absorbed in this little dinner date.] We've already been warned about Barty, not long after I got here. Anyone who wanted to do a little research could. It's not hard to find. No one made it a secret. He can't turn a man into a bone here, and that seems to be isolated to his father. He doesn't have those magical voodoo wizard means he had back home. Say what he did and his methods, fine. But not that. No one deserves that being dragged out, no one at all.

[This isn't hot air, nor is this Will saying as much because he'd hate it being done to himself (God, he hopes it's not done to him back on the stand whenever he gets home). There's this thing with Lecter, he's realized, and that's that whatever childhood traumas he suffered, whatever abuse he went through, nothing is a good "explanation" of what he did. He doesn't want to know what happened to him. He doesn't need to know. What happened happened, that's all he needs to know. Barty's nothing like Lecter, no, but what he's done stands on its own.

There's no reason to go that far, not with Lecter or anyone else. Perhaps that's a little bit of projecting. He hasn't decided yet.
]

The entire thing was rude, but that pushed it over the edge. In my opinion.

[There's a tilt of his head as he leans back. When does this all end, he wonders, and does the Master ever let out a truthful opinion of his own? Layers and layers of lies.

He's so used to it, he's so comfortable with the way it makes him want to crawl out of his skin and crawl into the skin of the nearest person with problems. None of this is healthy.

But it's familiar.
]
infomodder: your smarts are not so smart (it's cute how you think you're so smart)

[personal profile] infomodder 2014-03-22 05:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[Empathy being a tricky thing, oh, what Will could tell about that, if only he could find ways to put it into words. Doesn't want to be rude, he says, and Will instantly knows what he's talking about. The answer comes out of like he's answering basic math, just another fact:]

I've been stabbed and shot in the shoulder for work. It still aggravates me.

[Then it's all Barty Barty Barty and yes, Will was using him as a "real reason" to get the Master here, but he hardly cares about him the way he cares about Alana. Really, he hardly cares about anyone the way he cares about Alana. He's not sure if the Master is really buying the bits of bullshit Will is shoveling out, but he doesn't seem like the kind of guy who isn't used to bullshit. If he lives with Barty...

Will leans back at last, interlacing his fingers over his stomach as he really, really looks at the Master, every bit of focus on him and only him. A circus could blow through the room, and it's pretty apparent that Will wouldn't give it a bit of attention.

This is getting back to first meals at home. A bit of rudeness to start it all off, and then what? He's as relaxed as he gets and gestures out with those joined hands, shrugging somewhat.
]

I didn't really contact you about Barty. Exactly. [It's good to know they do have a bond past something like fond bickering on the network. That confirmation is really quite nice.] Glad to know he's got friends who would rather text about him, though. Very caring. [WILL GRAHAM HAS NO RIGHT TO TALK ABOUT PROPER FRIENDSHIP BUT HE JUST DID] Alana Bloom. I'd really rather certain people have nothing to do with her.

[His eyebrows lift a bit. Yeah, he means the Master. Barty. Several others.

Will himself, sometimes.
]
infomodder: IF YOU'LL FEAST ON MINE (where's your heart let me massage it)

[personal profile] infomodder 2014-03-24 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea. This was a bad move, a misstep, and he couldn't erase it now. He could only hope to lessen the damage that would probably be caused, especially if he turned cagey and started throwing out threats.

Granted, the last time someone had truly tried to hurt Alana, he'd shot him in the head right outside her house. Of course, he'd promptly passed out in the snow right after with a raging fever, woken up in a hospital connected to all the regular things needed to make sure he was recovering, and taken part in a gourmet chicken soup meal with his best friend in the entire world. He'd probably pissed him off a little calling it chicken soup, but there was no Lecter here to feed him if anything bad ever happened to Alana.

Would that be better or worse?

His first meal had resulted in him leaning away, staring at the man sitting across from him without hiding that he wasn't sure what to make of him. Defensive. This time, there's no backing away. He leans forward, arms settling on the table, the exact same distance as the Master. A meeting in the middle, both covering the same ground.

Will is neither truly advancing nor retreating. He can't afford it.
]

You know what they say about the company you keep. [Is he going to be called out on his bullshit? He talks to Barty, visits with him, shouldn't he stay away from this Alana Bloom, too?] Are you saying I shouldn't be concerned about you doing anything unsavory to her should you be given the chance to get close enough? Get in a room alone with her?

[There's something a little off in the way he says that last part, but he's not about to tell the story of how she avoided being alone in a room with him for ages when he wasn't considered a murderer, all the while being alone with everyone else. Even Lecter.]
infomodder: IF YOU'LL FEAST ON MINE (i am missing something here)

[personal profile] infomodder 2014-03-26 12:10 am (UTC)(link)
[Redemption. Theatrics. This is about Alana and her safety, but he finds himself being dragged away, growing unfocused. There's the sound of a bubbling creek, the snort of a feathered stag, and as the words keep coming over both those, it feels like his throat tightens. Expands. He's fighting for air, something crammed down his mouth and forcing its way into his very stomach. A gagging sensation that he's not sure comes from his own head or the idea that he's really, really messed this one up.

At least there's no ears when he looks from the Master between them, blinking to get it all back together, to come back to the present. His name is Will Graham, it's not too late in the day, and he's in Asgard. Asgard.

It takes him a second to reply, having to play back what he'd just heard away from all the other noise that threatened to drown it out. Finally, once he feels like he's not suffocating and can talk without worrying that opening his mouth will result in something awful popping out, he can say one thing for himself: he's keeping his calm. There's no panicking, there's no throwing out insults. There's no stag creature staring at him from the doorway. There's just, now that he focuses, Will Graham and one man he does not at all trust talking about Alana Bloom.
]

She's not the only one here who could help you. [Are there other psychiatrists? He doesn't know. He never had the patience to be one, never wanted to go through with anything that would earn him the coveted title of doctor. Maybe he should have. If he knew he'd end up in the home of gods and giants, it might have come in handy.] She's not the only one who knows the ins and outs of the human mind.

[Human. That's the key word Will has been holding onto, but people here come from all over and still carry the same traits and thought processes as the ones back home. It's absolutely infuriating.]

If you'd intended for it to be truly private and personal, you wouldn't have shown yourself like you did. She left herself up for private contact. But you didn't. You made it visible to the entirety of Asgard.

[He can just hear it now, in Lecter's voice, in Alana's voice, in Crawford's, in just about everyone he knows. He's damaged and broken and shouldn't be profiling the insane, or even thinking about it. He needs to recover and get better before he so much as looks at gory photographs. He should sit in his cell and wait for nature to take its course. He shouldn't seek comfort in doing what it is people are going to scramble to say drove him to the breaking point.

And yet here he sits.
]

As you said, everyone slips. They just usually don't purposefully start off the entire process by slipping.

[And isn't that what Will is doing right now with the Master, slipping? Maybe a little less purposefully, but it's still slipping. Bunch of psychopaths helping each other out, he'd heard before.

That only works when anyone really wants help. He doubts that's the case here.
]
Edited 2014-03-26 00:12 (UTC)