#MAGICANDSCIENCEMUSES. ( will graham. )

[tuppencetrinkets-a]

     The archaeologist's fingers ached from the urge to drag against each other, or to grind against her knees, the edge of the table, the arms of the uncomfortable chair, but she resisted the urge -- just barely.  The urge for a cigarette teased in the back of her mind, as frustrating a sensation as the way her skin pulled tight and uncomfortable across her shoulders and chest from dehydration and heat, the first prickling of sunburned patches making themselves known, and the worrisome scabs across her knuckles, her knees, forearms, elbows -- ones she couldn’t account for any more than she could account for her presence in Argentina that had landed her at the US embassy, shuffled, after a handful of phone calls and a favor or two, back to American soil but not quite free and clear.  “Doctor --  “  It seemed a clumsy opening, to their curt introduction, and she tried to offer a faint smile, apologetic, accompanied with a small shake of her head as she reached for the water bottle on the table in front of her.  “I just -- when they said they were going to have someone question me, I assumed -- officer or special agent.  They said Dr. Graham.  I was just curious ... doctor of what.”

           @magicandsciencemuses // (dark) will graham gets a starter from pre-ss june moone.

[empathicdesign]

YOUR DATING SERVICE

Tagged by: @bonebaker

Date with: William Graham Date Fee: 99¢ Customer Comments: "I looked at them once and ran away! (Female in 20s)"

Tagging: @adlerthetattler @willsabigailhobbs @magicandsciencemuses @specialagent-starling @blueprintheart @butscrewmefirst @mindthemuse @deathfound @miiilkshakemary @shrikesliced @casuisity and anyone else who wants to!

[bracteatum-a-a]

@magicandsciencemuses asked vaenora !

“ That was not my dog. “ {from Will Graham}            

        She smiled from where she knelt, hand still outstretched from where she had been petting the animal, before straightening with a shrug. “They could hardly hurt me regardless.” Animals, as odd as it seemed, held an affinity for her. One would think they’d register her as a predator, but perhaps she had worn the flesh of humanity long enough not to alarm them. “How are you this evening, Will?”

[intcthatgoodnight-a]

“You need to eat something, you’ve been through a lot today.” {Will Graham to Abigail Hobbs}

INJURIES MEME // accepting

@magicandsciencemuses

          Been through a lot, something she’s heard quite often lately. You’ve been through a lot, Abigail. A polite way of saying it, without actually having to say what happened. As if hearing it would traumatize her more. Today had been a lot, going to the FBI and made to stare at the body of the man she had killed, and lie. She was emotionally exhausted, but full of anxious energy. Abigail had brought this on herself. She had passed this test, and maybe now she could finally relax, if only a little, just enough to breathe.

          She looks up at Will for a moment, before looking away again. She wondered why he was still here, it had been a while since he had last visited. What drove him away? - and what made him come back?  “I’m not hungry.”  she replied. It was true, she rarely was these days. She had to make herself eat the hospital food, but wasn’t sure she could stomach it today. Residual nerves still twisted in her gut. 

[deathfound-a]

👁 Wake my muse up during a nightmare {from Will Graham, could be him having the nightmare}

NON VERBAL RP STARTERS // accepting

@magicandsciencemuses

          It was late afternoon, maybe too late to be bringing coffee but she knew any lingering students would have left. With a disposable cup in each hand - hers already half empty - and a visitor badge clipped to her shirt, she walked into Wills classroom. A few of the lights had been turned off leaving the large room dimmed. She saw Will at his desk, slumped forward with his head resting on the wood surface.  “Will?”  she called out, a small frown forming on her lips. Crossing the room, she set the cups down on the far side of the desk, careful to avoid the papers and crime scene photos spread across it. Cassie looked at him for a moment, wondering if she should just let him rest - his neck was going to hurt from the angle he had it at - when she noticed his face, at first soft from sleep, scrunch up. He began to twitch, mumbling incoherently. Clearly a nightmare.  “Will.”  she repeated his name, louder this time. Reaching out, she placed a hand on his shoulder, jumping slightly when he startled awake.  “Hey - it’s okay.”

[shcblindedmewithscience]

“ i’m very particular with my words. ” {Will Graham}

@magicandsciencemuses

A wry smile curved the corner of Beverly’s mouth. “Though I’m not disputing it, you’ve been a bit free with your words lately,” she said, smiling more openly as she had a seat on Will’s desk. Mindful of his papers, she crossed her legs and folded her hands over her knee. “I might find it amusing, but Jack sure doesn’t. Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or am I going to get another sample of those ‘particular words’?”

[tuppencetrinkets-a]

          @magicandsciencemuses sent a meme // from will to ariel.

❝ what are you afraid of? ❞

                 She sat, perched on the railing of his front porch, dressed only in a robe -- his robe, of course.  She didn’t like clothes, and out here there was no need for their restrictive touch.  They had compromised, and so the robe, and only the robe, wrapped around her, loose and soft enough that it did not bother her over  much, tied loosely at the waist, and mostly concealed what it should.  Her fingers curled around a mug of hot coffee that perched on one bent knee, her gaze flicking towards him and then away, to the broad world beyond.  A small smile, rueful and tired, played at her lips for a moment.  “Perhaps it would be a shorter list for me to say what I am not afraid of, William.”  A loose shrug of small, still too slender shoulders.  “I am ... afraid of glass.  And cages.  Afraid of men and their cruelty.  I am afraid of ... being trapped, of being helpless.  Being discovered.”  Again.  “I am afraid of myself, and the anger that I feel, righteous fury.  I am afraid of what I will do to them, when I find them.  And I think, perhaps, I enjoy that.   To be afraid of myself, that must make me truly monstrous, no?  And what better to make them afraid, but a monster in the making?”

[tuppencetrinkets-a]

@magicandsciencemuses - will graham liked [x] for a one-liner lyric starter from reese.

           paint it black - ciara.

                  “Maybe I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts.”

[tuppencetrinkets-a]

             Awareness came suddenly, a sharp gasp torn between cracked lips, eyes springing open with a panic born of years of misuse, fear and anger evident in her pale features and wide blue eyes as she surged halfway towards sitting, hands flung out in front of her, tangling briefly in the sheets and blankets that pressed against her.  One hand flew up, pulling at the collar of the t shirt that wrapped around her, and up, again, to the still tangled curls, as her eyes sought to focus, the room overly bright, pupils spinning widely and then narrowly dilated as they tried to compensate.   His features seemed somehow familiar, his hands carefully held out away from his sides, away from her, words, his voice, calm, steady, even if the words themselves did not make sense to her, just yet.  “Where --  where is this?  Where am I?”  Pain radiated through her throat, raw and dry, and her sides ached with the force of her attempt to sit.  Her head throbbed, fingers finding a bandage pressed against her forehead, and she struggled to find memories that made sense in the chaos of fever and pain.     

           @magicandsciencemuses gets a modern starter from ariel for will.

[tuppencetrinkets-a]

       @magicandsciencemuses sent a meme from will to laurel, ac, virtual.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?!”

        “Oh come now, Will, what shame is there in enjoying one’s work, hm?”  A soft laugh followed her query, a step taken to bring her closer to where he stood in the virtual display, the room and scene being built, piece by piece, from his specifications -- from his memories, or dreams, it was always a thin line between them, with him, especially.  A hand was placed, lightly, reassuringly, on his shoulder, a more sincere and soft, even kind smile given to him as she squeezed lightly.  “I take pride in what I do, Will.  I help people excise their demons, some of them, more literally than others.  We’ve made progress, you and I -- you’ve been sleeping better since we began our ... sessions, haven’t you?”  Recreating the ‘designs’ of the murderers he chased, the villains and cretins whose crime scenes crossed his path, in a way that allowed him to fully immerse and recreate the crimes to the smallest detail was a suggestion given by Will’s therapist, one of Laurel’s favorite and most private clients, and one that she was all too happy to assist in.   “Take a deep breath, and remind yourself of why you are doing this and -- when you are ready, continue with your descriptions and I will adjust the scenario as necessary, hm?”

[tuppencetrinkets-a]

           @magicandsciencemuses sent a meme from will to rori, ac verse.

❝ dreaming of you wont help me. ❞

             A smile played over the edges of her mouth as she shifted to pull herself closer, fingers reaching out to drift along his stubble lined jaw, and up again to press his slightly damp curls back off his brow.   “There are worse things to dream about, though, right?”  She teased, lightly, though.  Already she knew him well enough to know that of all the things he dreamed about, few of them were pleasant, or good.  She didn’t ask what he had dreamed, about her.  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.  “But you know that you don’t have to dream about what’s right in front of you,” she reminded him, pulling herself close enough to be able to lean in and press a soft kiss against his forehead, and then his cheek, and then, less lightly, and more insistently, against his lips.

[tuppencetrinkets-a]

       “I don’t know what you want me to say -- I can’t help you.”  Can’t.  Won’t.  Maybe he thought the words were interchangeable, not that she would blame him if he did.  Inked and studded street rat bartenders, especially ones with a record like hers, in a neighborhood like this, weren’t exactly known for being vocal when it came to talking to the cops.  “That sleeve is one of a dozen just like it that anybody can pick up for by the hour, day, week, pretty much straight off the rack from one of the less than renowned vendors in Bay City.  Not the type that anyone with real creds to spend would have used unless they were looking to stay anonymous.  Places like that, you pay enough cash up front, they’ll doxy the download data to keep you off radar, so, if the stack’s too far damaged to pull up recall, you’re probably screwed.”  

    She was talking too much.  What she wanted to be doing was downing another half bottle of vodka.  Or hurling her guts out.  It was pretty much guaranteed the stack was beyond recovery, with the gorge of blood and bone fragments from what was barely recognizable as a spinal column.  No burned skin, no sickening smell of seared muscle or bone, just.  A gaping wound and a splintered stack.  She didn’t know what kind of brute force that would take -- she’d seen a few specialized instruments made for fast and rough stack recovery, but nothing that left the kinda wound, or the spray of blood that coated walls and ceiling of the bar bathroom.    “Don’t take this the wrong way, but -- since when does a doll getting her stack screwed warrant someone like you sniffing around some place like this, anyways?”

        @magicandsciencemuses -- rori dearing, altered carbon verse for will graham.