maskormenacelogs | they said you was high-classed

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they said you was high-classed

WHO: Will Graham & YOU (and dogs)
WHERE: All over Heropa
WHEN: Month of March
WHAT: Dogs. Live bait. Fish. Whatever you want. Follow your dreams.
WARNINGS: General Hannibal stuff, will update if needed.

HOOK, LINE, & TINKER;

[It's a bait shop in Heropa, where Will can be found Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with Gunther behind the counter. The counter is comfortably messy; stacks of mail and magazines, though an odd addition sits underneath all that. A copy of Frederick Chilton's book about poor unfortunate crazy ass Walter White isn't difficult to spot. Nor is the fact Will seems to be treating it as a text book in his down time. The book has a slew of green sticky notes littered all over the place, a highlighter sitting next to it. If there's people in the store, he isn't paying it any attention, but when there aren't...

Sometimes there's little else to do, so Will throws a slobber-infested and therefore loved tennis ball for Gunther to go bounding after. Occasionally a veritable herd of little old ladies come in for Blue Beetle-themed merchandise, hats and shirts and keychains and the like. They bring cookies and other baked goods, likely offerings so they have reason to stay around longer and stare at Will's ass. Apparently they're not put off by stupid fishing caps, plaid shirts, and denim (yes, denim) vests. One routinely calls him by another name, claiming he looks so much like her departed husband. He never comes away from these visits without at least ONE clear print of lipstick on his cheek and never shies away from receiving such. It's just good business to let his customers kiss his "when are you going to shave, Will?" cheeks, it's just polite.]

DOG PARK;

[All the dogs go to the park. All of them. You know those pictures of Daniel Radcliffe walking a pack of dogs around? Add some age, some plaid, some denim, some scars, more hair, a growing distress beard, that's pretty much Will. He's even attached the leashes to his belt instead because there are too many damn dogs to just halfsies it the leashes in his hands. Of course when he gets there, all bets are off and they run about sniffing butts and making friends and rolling in mud like kids on a sugar high while Will sits on the bench and watches. And makes nice with other people. And their dogs. And looks out for any dogs that might need a better home...shush.

This also means he has to walk to and from said dog park with the pack in tow, so he can be spotted (easily, so fucking easily) and approached on the way there or back just the same. Pick your poison, yo.]

THE LUDGATE-GRAHAM HOME OF SARCASM AND SORROW;

[While Will can be found pretty much anywhere inside, as per usual, he's also spending more time outside tending the garden, the front yard. Which involves talking to stubborn bushes who need some little extra care. And standing, openly, before God and passerby with a raccoon on his shoulder, delivering a quiet lecture to the dogwood tree that's apparently just growing like a weed and needs to make up its mind about these growth spurts. It's all very serious business to the man with a raccoon on his shoulder. This dogwood tree better listen up and shape up.]

WILDCARD;

[Got something in mind???? Want a starter??? Do it tell me Shia LaBeouf this puppy up.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Matthew has no idea where he is when he finally gets off the bus, at least not with any more specificity than "still in De Chima, hopefully." It's not a part of town he's familiar with, which narrows his location down by about three or four places.

He would call Ronan, except his communicator is sitting on a desk at his part-time job. He'd have Henrietta take him home, except he sent her back early because her hovering outside the window was really freaking out Matthew's boss. This would have been fine, except when he left work, realized he'd forgotten his phone, and turned back to get it, he'd seen Kavinsky. That would be when he panicked, crossed the street, and got on the bus. (Which bus? The one that was immediately available.)

Now Matthew is the one freaking out. It's getting kind of late now, there's a should-be-dead kidnapper/drug dealer out there somewhere, and he just spent his transportation money on getting to the wrong place. This is when he starts pacing, quite anxiously, trying to figure out what his brothers might do if they were in this situation, and not him. ]

[Will knows De Chima like the back of his hand, and he also happens to not be a should-be-dead kidnapper/drug dealer. He does happen to be an observant son of a bitch, though, currently on the other side of the street taking his time on his monthly roaming about De Chima. Popping by De Chima once a month meant he could get a discounted or free lunch, so why wouldn't he?

It's what gives him time to watch the kid pace from his perch on the bench, finishing up a FREE brownie (no one turns down free brownies). He doesn't recognize him, but he looks a bit out of sorts. A bit. So after he finishes that brownie and tosses the bag in the trash next to him, Will checks before he crosses because the last thing anyone needs is an imPort laid out on the streets thanks to being an idiot.

Once he steps off the street, Will gives the kid a couple seconds to either notice him or stay wrapped up in whatever's eating at him before he clears his throat and, in a voice one would expect more from some officer of the law than a plaid-and-jean covered bearded brownie inhaler:]

All right over there?

[ Matthew seems to be making a habit of being rescued by law enforcement types after having public transportation issues.

This time, however, he's actually upset. Seeing Kavinsky in the flesh dredged up all kinds of memories he doesn't want to have anymore, memories he can normally pick up and put away whenever it best suits him. Burning cars, people screaming, monsters in the air, clawing his way out of a drug-induced stupor to find himself stuffed in the trunk of a Mitsubishi, that sort of thing. And again, it really doesn't help that the guy responsible for creating those memories is supposed to be dead.

So Matthew jumps a little at the sound of Will's voice and looks at him, wide-eyed. ]

Oh, uh--

[ For a second, uncharacteristic caution does battle with his natural instinct to trust people. But only for a second. What kind of bad guy wears plaid? ]

No, not exactly.

[ The response is not necessary; everything about him right now practically shouts please help. ]

[At least he's honest. This could be going worse, so much worse. There could be running. Or telling him to fuck off. Or obscene accusations. This is actually refreshing, and for a moment, Will simply stands and watches the kid like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it doesn't, Will keeps his stride slow and visible as he walks over. Closing the distance without getting anywhere near an invasion of personal space.]

What could fix that?

[Will has a few assumptions, but dealing with people is different than dealing with dogs. He can't just squat and start tossing out treats to get where he needs to go this time around. No, there must be communication. Is the kid starving, confused, lost, what? He can adequately answer the shouting please help when he knows how to best do that.]

[ Matthew is usually pretty honest, and he will leave the accusations and "fuck off"s to other people (Ronan) for as long as he is alive.

Also despite having a number of qualities in common with the average golden retriever puppy, he is not, in fact, an actual dog, and does not need any treats tossed in his direction. Just the question is enough; it sounds like something that might evolve into an offer of assistance and he opens his arms gratefully--and metaphorically--to this possibility. ]

I got on the wrong bus, and I'm not sure how to get back home.

[ He glances over his shoulder and almost adds that someone might be following him, but decides not to because he has no idea if it's true. There's no reason Kavinsky would be following him, right? Seeing him at all was probably just a really terrible coincidence. He should stop thinking about it at all. He wants to stop thinking about it! So instead he goes with: ]

And I kind of left my phone at work.

[So far so good. This doesn't feel too off, like some ploy to get anyone passing by close enough for a good ol' fashioned mugging. And really, if that's the entire problem, they've both lucked out. The kid's got someone who knows De Chima and Will doesn't have to deal with any paper work after. Everyone wins!]

D'you wanna get your phone back first or just go straight home? [Street lamps come to life, and Will spares the one just above them a quick look up.] If you know street names, that'd be easiest. But businesses or landmarks work too. Hell, strange trees or mailboxes. Whatever you remember.

We kind of live out of town.

[ In a magic dream house that is home to many people besides Matthew. He is naturally very trusting himself, but he also understands the importance of keeping certain things secret, and that Ronan and the others might not like it if he brought a stranger to their place. ]

But I do know the address for my job. I could get my phone and call my brother.

[ This suggestion comes out with some slight reluctance, because he does not like the idea of going back near the place where he saw Kavinsky. But Ronan says he needs to think things through, and he thinks maybe getting his communicator back seems like the better plan. ]

[Will definitely understands wanting to keep the home address under wraps. There's generally been a fair share of misery to everyone in his life when that particular bit of information is easily known. Of course, that's due to apeshit serial killers, but this kid has no way of knowing if he's talking to an apeshit serial killer or not. It's a smart, respectable decision and Will isn't at all offended. He wouldn't have offered up that easy out if he'd been offended by it.]

Sounds like a good plan. [Said sincerely.] Where are we headed?

[Don't worry none, Matthew. This shaggy plaid beast is gonna walk with you. Nobody in their right mind would get close enough to do anything. Not just because there's a witness (or casualty) but because ew, plaid, no, why.]

[ Matthew is genuinely reassured by someone saying his plan is good, even if that person is a shaggy plaid beast, and he exhales in mild relief. Everything will be fine. Plaid is apparently a good defense against zombie, drug-pushing kidnappers now, and if he's lucky, Matthew can get in touch with Ronan before he realizes Matthew is late. That would be great. ]

Do you know how to get to-- [ some street name ] --from here?

[ It's a downtown street lined in fancy office buildings, because this golden retriever boy somehow ended up interning as a paralegal in one of said fancy offices, despite his rather impressive lack of qualifications. ]

Sure do. That would be [He turns on a heel, looking up as he calculates the quickest, shortest way there.] this way.

[this way involves Will moving in said direction, slowly at first to make sure the kid follows. He is assuming the kid will follow, which means taking any dark alleyway shortcuts might not be ideal. If they're both on foot, at least, it wouldn't be ideal. Hrm.]

Name's Will, by the way. Used to live here. Caught me on my monthly visit back.

[ Matthew does follow him, relieved that he knows the way. ]

Thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it.

[ But he's also a bit subdued, because this is the second time he's gotten himself in this kind of situation. People have been taking care of him his whole life but even he realizes it's a lot to ask of someone he just met--and to do it twice. Especially someone who doesn't live here anymore and probably wants to get home. ]

I'm Matthew. Matthew Lynch.

[ Should he offer to give Will some money or something? No wait, he ran out of money; that's part of the original problem. ]

[Sometimes people like taking care of others, and Will is in that boat. It helps him ignore the fact that sometimes he's absolute garbage at taking care of himself. Everyone wins!

Lynch. Lynch? He'd mentioned a brother, and Will knows a boy with the name of Lynch. But it's not exactly the most unheard of name out there, and he's not even sure if this kid is...]

No problem. It's good to meet you, Matthew. [Matthews are good people.] Are you an imPort, too?

[Asked just like normal conversation instead of I'm gonna figure out if you're related to that other Lynch boy investigation in its baby stages.]

[ Matthew is a-ok with normal conversation--the alternative is walking in silence, which would be awful, no thanks--and he nods eagerly. ]

Yeah. You, too? [ That's particularly comforting, somehow. ]

I've been here-- [ it takes him a second ] --almost three weeks.

[ Two weeks and some days. They pass under another streetlamp and it might help Will's investigation if he were to get a better look at his temporary charge. Matthew doesn't seem a lot like Ronan at first glance. The differences between them--both in appearance and personality--are distracting, but upon inspection they do look rather like knockoffs of the same man. Two of "Niall Lynch's boys", or at least they used to be. Matthew just happens to have inherited some features of mother as well (or did he? It's complicated. For now just roll with this explanation as written; he doesn't know any better, either.) ]

Almost two years now.

[For how long that might be, two whole years, Will doesn't have an ounce of fatigue or bitterness about the fact. Rather, he seems happy about it. This place has given him far far more than it's taken away, which is something he's never sure he'll get used to. Until a day comes where he's the only one left, where his wedding ring has passed three months without April wearing its counterpart, he'll rethink the whole "being content with this as an afterlife." For now? No way, man, he's just jazzed to be here.]

So your brother's Ronan, right?

[damn skippy he got a better look with the help of street lighting]

[ Two years. That's the longest Matthew's heard of so far, but Will doesn't seem bothered by it at all. He doesn't know what to make of that. This place is not as terrible as he'd been led to believe on the first day, at least so far--he hasn't been kidnapped or made to fight anybody yet--but it's not quite home. He hasn't forgotten about his mother. He's not sure he wants to be here for a year, much less two.

The question about Ronan, on the other hand, well. Matthew reacts to that one immediately and earnestly, turning more to face Will as they walk. ]

Yeah, yeah he is, my older brother. You know him?

[ He's met people here who know Ronan, and he's met people here who know of Ronan, so the clarification is necessary. Hopefully Will has a good impression of him, that'd be nice. ]

I do.

[Intimately, it could be argued. Swapping powers with no warning had an invasive quality to it. Never again would Will question what birds were yakking about at the buttcrack of dawn, because now he knew. He knew what those little bastards were chirping about when all he wanted was for them to fly elsewhere so he didn't have to listen to that single-minded yammering or get his ass out of bed.

Will doesn't blame any of that on Ronan, though. He doesn't confess to knowing the kid with any level of disdain or aggravation, either. Perhaps that's most telling. Abigail had liked him and so far, Will hadn't seen a reason to not like Ronan, too. He could see why other people didn't, but he wasn't other people. His entire life had run its course and ended as it had due to that fact: he wasn't other people.]

Hazarding a guess here...you like animals, I take it? Animals that aren't. Normal.

[He stops, turning into Matthew as though ready to tell secrets. Yeah, he knows about Henrietta. But if Matthew is fond of the creature, then he might be able to make this whole getting back to work go faster. And better than faster: more memorably. His stag's probably tired of being used to transport drunk/dying people. Matthew would be a breath of fresh air for everyone involved.]

[ Matthew stops and turns as well, looking at Will with blue eyes that are innocent and searching both at once.

He takes a moment to think through the facts. Will knows Ronan. Ronan's dreams are a secret back home. Here, everyone has powers, and what Ronan can do isn't as likely to get him murdered... like their father had been. ]

Are you talking about Henrietta?

[ More facts: Henrietta is kind of the only non-normal animal that he knows here (unless Chainsaw counts, too). She's been following him all over town, so it's not like her existence is any kind of secret. Not to mention Dorian told him on day one--and Ronan confirmed, without giving too many details--that she caused something of a fuss when Ronan first brought her out, so it's not unreasonable to think Will might know of her already. There's no harm in talking about her.

Also, final facts: Matthew does like animals, normal ones and otherwise. So he's curious. He's quite curious. ]

[Ah! He knows the name, that's a good sign. Referring to the creature by name instead of, say, oh, that screwball bird thing? is a good sign. Hopefully this isn't just a pretense thing, because Matthew's answer gets a small, pleased smile and nod. Nothing else. Until Will steps back enough that the street lights give him as much shadow as he'll get.

At first, his shadow tilts at a Very Wrong direction for where it's attached, where the light source is coming from. Then the head of it grows antlers. There isn't much time before those antlers starts to lift, and if Matthew watches, he'll get to watch what might as well be a birth. Antlers, ears, knobbly knees resulting in hooves, front hooves essentially pulling the rest of the feathered, furry body right out of the ground. Tail wags, as though shaking off the dust of being a shadow and not a giant stag creature, and Matthew will find himself being stared at by pitch black eyes. Long enough for them to blink and look at Will instead, the stag's head tilting like really? Cool.]

They're not the same. But they aren't too different.

[In the way they're fucking weird and a lot of people would find them nightmarish and in need of putting down, sure.]

[ Oh, shit, that's cool. No lie, before the Kavinsky... incident, Matthew would probably have been terrified by something like this. Or at the least, highly alarmed. But that night, magic and monsters were made very real things for him. They became a part of Ronan. Magic brought Matthew's mother back, waking her up like a flower in springtime. She is magic.

So he's much less fearful now, and more fascinated by the chance to see someone else's power in action, though he does take a step back when the stag pulls itself up out of the ground like the world's most freakishly incredible special effect. Then it looks at Matthew and his breath escapes his lungs all at once. ]

Is he-- friendly?

[ Translation: can I touch him? In fact Matthew's hand is tentatively half-raised already, but still close enough to his body that he can jerk it back if necessary. ]

Mine is.

[His shadow, at least, he trusts implicitly. Meaning he trusts it to act as he would in any given situation. That's not always a good thing, of course, but right now? It's fine. There's no danger of someone needing to be impaled, as far as Will's concerned, so this is just fine.

Almost like the stag's aware of the conversation, aware shadow featherbutt needs to be friendly here, the creature leans against that hand. Butts it, really, like he's expecting more than a scratch, a pet. He's not some domestic mutt, after all, but a shadowy figure of looming, antlered terror! He should be treated with such respect, which means more than some bullshit scratch behind the ears.]

I use it to get places when time and transportation is an issue.

[Just gonna let that hang and see what Matthew makes of it, yep.]

[ Matthew is staring at the stag in total awe, does that count as respect? Until it butts against his hand, that is, which is when a smile bursts across his face. BAM. It's like sunshine, the way he smiles, all perfect teeth and dimples and delight.

Thoughts of Kavinsky are utterly driven from his mind at this point.

He doesn't really give the stag a pet, or a scratch, but slowly strokes its face once from nose to forehead, looking into its eyes in a way that suggests he's both bewildered and pleased that it exists. Good stag. You are incredible.

It takes a minute for Will's words to sink in. Well, not an actual sixty-second minute, but close, because Matthew's so preoccupied with the shadow creature. He tears his eyes away and looks back to the man in plaid. ]

Hang on, you mean you can ride him?

[ His tone suggests he finds that seriously awesome. ]

Oh, yeah. Like a horse, I guess. Don't really have much experience on horseback to compare them.

[But he walks around similar to how one might with a horse, putting one of his hands out on the withers. Feathers ruffle under his fingers but the shadow beast doesn't spare Will a bit of attention. No looking at him, no moving, no flicking his ears, nothing. Will might as well not even be here, the stag is so focused on Matthew. And Matthew passes whatever Test a shadow stag could concoct, because that dark beastie seems to be smiling back.]

You wanna? Could take us quite a while to get to your work on foot. We'd get there in less than half the time with this.

I've ridden a horse.

[ Recently, too. But it doesn't matter. In fact, Matthew isn't even paying much attention to what he's saying, because the stag is smiling at him and he's quite distracted again.

Not entirely distracted though, because the answer to Will's question comes quick, without any hesitation. ]

Definitely. [ The second of thought comes afterward. ] I mean if it's okay. Is it okay?

[ He's still not really looking at Will when he asks this. He is more asking the stag. Henrietta is a thinking, feeling creature. She speaks Latin (well, she writes in Latin sometimes.) One could call her an animal but she's really more than that. Matthew doesn't want to offend this shadow stag if he's the same way, and climbing onto someone without permission might be a little offensive. ]

[Most people don't take so well to the stag, in all honesty. And, in all honesty, that's one reason he figured Matthew might be different. He's already had an introduction to some strange beasts. It's interesting to see how he responds to them, and even now that this conversation seems to be more Stag and Matthew than anything to do with Will, it's interesting.

Will simply removes his hand, still being ignored by his shadow (and getting a less than impressed glance for it, but nothing else), and watches as the thing essentially flops to its front...knees. Whatever it's called when they only get down on the front end, he isn't sure. It's just enough to make the whole process easier for short tiny human people.]

Looks like that's an okay to me. [As if Will had to interpret, pfft.] You mind sharing? You two could go on your own, but. In case something happens. Wouldn't want you lost again.

[ This time Matthew actually laughs, not at all minding that he has to jump back a bit in order to avoid being accidentally gouged by a pointy antler when the stag kneels for him. He's very much the opposite of Ronan, who is loath to show his interest in... Well, in most things. He touches the stag's forehead again and then circles around it, until he's on at its side and could actually climb on. Then he looks at Will again. ]

I don't mind. He's your shadow. [ That's right, isn't it? Either way, he's not going to ask Will to just stand around here while Matthew rides off into the night on his shadowstag.

Speaking of which. ]

I've never ridden a horse without a saddle before.

[ Or one that has feathers. So he's not entirely sure of the best way to do this. ]

they said you was high-classed

WILDCARD; you in De Chima now

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1tj2zJ2Wvg

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