[Call - 10/15/11 - 11:47am]controllingluckOctober 15 2011, 11:19:55 UTC
She had been thinking about calling for some time now and really she needed to check up on him as it was as it had been some time since she heard from him. With everything that had been on her thoughts lately and that weird set of dreams that flooded her mind that morning... she did it. With out a proper thought of how it wasn't a good idea to bother the man, while sitting around a table gazing off at her cup of tea, she dialed.
Leaning her elbow on the table she waited for the rings, watching her bird watch her. "Don't look at me like that..." she chirped at the bird while the phone rang. Maybe it wasn't the right number. She was sure she found the proper NetVice number though--"Oh!" She heard the message and smiled. Yes, right number.
After the beep she spoke in a cheerful enough voice. "Mr. Graham...ah, Will? This is Himawari. I had hoped I found the right number and it looks like I did! I was just calling to see how you were doing. Hope all is well! Give me a call back if you have a moment of time."With that she pushed the
( ... )
[Call - 10/15/11 - 12:33pm]eidetic_grahamOctober 27 2011, 08:02:43 UTC
Will had been stuck beneath the dash-board of a inoperable speed-boat at the time of her call. His long sun-soaked legs draped over the driver's seat as his back pressed into the floor-board and wires dangled about his head. The ex-Profiler was in the zone as he tried to get the starter-connections cleaned with nothing but a rag and some WD-40, but that blinking of a red light in his peripherals was starting to distract him
( ... )
It wasn’t like she was sitting around and waiting for him to call her back. No, not at all. No, she wasn’t keeping her NetVice open on the edge of the spare bed while she sprawled out across the floor and pieced together packets for Newcomers who showed up suddenly. She wasn’t checking it to make sure it had power or that it was still on or if she had missed anything either. It wasn’t like she was looking forward to talking to someone, especially someone interesting, to help her get her mind off things
( ... )
How did she know it was--Right, Caller ID. For a moment he had a chill that she was reading his thoughts from across the city and subconsciously started thinking about Jesus Christ Superstar to throw her off the trail.
The dull roar of the ocean lulled across the receiver far behind his voice, "It's no bother, I was just taking a break."
It was break-time right? He paused to crunch his abs with a bit of a shiver in his leg as he pulled himself up to peek over the edge of the boat to see if his boss was in the shack. Coast was pretty clear as old Gil Gibson was likely avoiding the afternoon swell of blue-gill that came in with the easy noon tide. Said his 'superpower' was talking to fishes, but with the memory of guppies they didn't make very good conversationalists.
"You alright?" There were a number of reasons she could be calling a dead-beat like him, but just having a chat was the last he could fathom. He didn't fancy himself very interesting, let alone enough to want to know anything past his generic name.
[The buzz in his pocket nearly knocked him off the edge of the dock he was sitting on, watching the moon rise out of the ocean depths. He had been in a dreamy state, imagining he was still back in Florida and the Keys were just experiencing a mild cold spell.
Reality crept in and shattered everything he had built up in what would not be his memory palace.. no, more like a memory hovel. The creeping Darkness ruined what could be a quiet and solemn night, but it could never touch the moon or the ocean. He sighed as he picked up the receiver, hoping the something better be on fire.]
Call. 1 AM.eats_the_rudeOctober 30 2011, 08:14:31 UTC
Good evening, Will.
[The sounds of the night are not unknown to the Doctor, who, at that current moment, was enjoying a moonlit view of the Winther Lake manor grounds from Will's room. He'd taken the liberty of leaving him a little something on his pillow...A personal invitation to the masquerade that would be taking place the evening thereafter.]
I hope you won't mind the intrusion at such an hour but we both know you weren't asleep. I would simply have left you a message but I thought it best to..phone you directly.
[There's almost a smile in his voice as he continues...He can hear the sound of the ocean in the background, and he knows exactly where he is now.]
...You best go inside Will. Wouldn't want a repeat of the incident several weeks ago when there's no one there this time to save you.
[The added scar to his torso throbbed as he spoke about it. A rather nasty cut from last time as a reminder of the sacrifice he'd made.]
[The metallic sound of Lecter's voice, like water on brass, sent a tremor up his spine that made Canada's coldest frost feel like a sweltering Summer's day.]
I'm fine, I'm right by my car.
[It was at the end of the dock, an old third-hand Volkswagen, just like home. He spoke concisely as usual, not a tone or pitch of ill-will nor content, but he was surely un-amused with his former mentor's false concern for his well-being.
That night after the theater when he fell pray to the darkness and Lecter stepped in... It had jarred him considerably, and he was still reeling from the aftereffects of such a move by the man who would see his doom crafted.]
Comments 26
Leaning her elbow on the table she waited for the rings, watching her bird watch her. "Don't look at me like that..." she chirped at the bird while the phone rang. Maybe it wasn't the right number. She was sure she found the proper NetVice number though--"Oh!" She heard the message and smiled. Yes, right number.
After the beep she spoke in a cheerful enough voice. "Mr. Graham...ah, Will? This is Himawari. I had hoped I found the right number and it looks like I did! I was just calling to see how you were doing. Hope all is well! Give me a call back if you have a moment of time."With that she pushed the ( ... )
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The dull roar of the ocean lulled across the receiver far behind his voice, "It's no bother, I was just taking a break."
It was break-time right? He paused to crunch his abs with a bit of a shiver in his leg as he pulled himself up to peek over the edge of the boat to see if his boss was in the shack. Coast was pretty clear as old Gil Gibson was likely avoiding the afternoon swell of blue-gill that came in with the easy noon tide. Said his 'superpower' was talking to fishes, but with the memory of guppies they didn't make very good conversationalists.
"You alright?" There were a number of reasons she could be calling a dead-beat like him, but just having a chat was the last he could fathom. He didn't fancy himself very interesting, let alone enough to want to know anything past his generic name.
Reply
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Reality crept in and shattered everything he had built up in what would not be his memory palace.. no, more like a memory hovel. The creeping Darkness ruined what could be a quiet and solemn night, but it could never touch the moon or the ocean. He sighed as he picked up the receiver, hoping the something better be on fire.]
...Hello?
Reply
[The sounds of the night are not unknown to the Doctor, who, at that current moment, was enjoying a moonlit view of the Winther Lake manor grounds from Will's room. He'd taken the liberty of leaving him a little something on his pillow...A personal invitation to the masquerade that would be taking place the evening thereafter.]
I hope you won't mind the intrusion at such an hour but we both know you weren't asleep. I would simply have left you a message but I thought it best to..phone you directly.
[There's almost a smile in his voice as he continues...He can hear the sound of the ocean in the background, and he knows exactly where he is now.]
...You best go inside Will. Wouldn't want a repeat of the incident several weeks ago when there's no one there this time to save you.
[The added scar to his torso throbbed as he spoke about it. A rather nasty cut from last time as a reminder of the sacrifice he'd made.]
Reply
I'm fine, I'm right by my car.
[It was at the end of the dock, an old third-hand Volkswagen, just like home. He spoke concisely as usual, not a tone or pitch of ill-will nor content, but he was surely un-amused with his former mentor's false concern for his well-being.
That night after the theater when he fell pray to the darkness and Lecter stepped in... It had jarred him considerably, and he was still reeling from the aftereffects of such a move by the man who would see his doom crafted.]
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