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WHO: April and Will
WHERE: hook, line, & tinker, then in and around Florida
WHEN: 9-25-14
WHAT: Kidnapping shenanigans
WARNINGS: TBD, none at the moment

[After all the making sure it was fine for her to show up at the house, she naturally came to the store. She didn't even have a member of the raccoon posse on her for once, a super rare event that left her feeling more naked than she'd expected. But she had a mission, and was dressed all in black despite the heat to get it done.

Which was kinda a pointless sacrifice. The stealth clothing was in no way needed seeing as she just walked in the front door of the shop and all, but that wasn't the point. She slid the sunglasses into place only once she was inside the store, solely so that she could look down her nose over them as she took in the store.

It was....fishy.]

Mr. Will Graham?

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Coming!

[Shouted from a back room, one that belonged to someone who hadn't ever done much with customer service and couldn't keep that out of his voice no matter how much he tried. It didn't quite line up, wasn't properly cheery, wasn't apologetic, wasn't much of anything but a word being shouted just loud enough that it could be heard throughout the entire shop. It was what it needed to be on the surface, but everything underneath it? This guy hadn't any experience in retail.

Or, just enough to know that maybe he could be his own best advertisement, appearing in a hat that seemed to be a favorite despite the REEL WOMEN FISH aspect, one that had been worn enough to fit his head perfectly, the hook wrapped around the bill having been there long enough to form a nice dent. He was well aware which hat he had on, perhaps made the way he stood a little straighter at the sight of her more ridiculous for it. Hands shoved in his pockets, chin tilted in something like defiance, lips a thin line. He had practice at that last one.]

Suppose it depends on who's asking.

[There's a twitch to that line. He's got practice, sure. But he's also rather pleased to see April with or without any of the posse and hiding that is proving difficult.]

[ She needs a moment to get her own composure back at his appearance. She was half sure she was going to burn that hat. One day. A day that wasn't today, because fire making materials were not currently on the list and the gathering of them would take too long to turn it into a side trip. For now, April covers her grin by shoving the sunglasses back up on her nose, the expression back down to a forced-serious one by the time her hand drops.

Just in time for her to start her stroll through the store towards him. ]

I'll be the one asking the questions here. I need you to come with me.

[He'd prefer her not to burn it, but he has plenty of the same he can always start over with. April fiddles with her sunglasses and he lifts a hand to his shirt pocket, pulling off the name tag and tossing it on the counter. It skitters, slides, finally stops right next to the register—he's more than used to tossing it, and he doesn't at all mind getting out the hell out of Dodge at a moment's notice.

There's an exaggerated nod of his head whenever she speaks. He gets it, he's putting up a front of being uncooperative. Easier to do that when the next thing out of his pocket is a set of keys, held out between them. No car keys, but the house, the shop, the one key he clicks out?]

Need to lock up first. You wanna do the honors, ma'am?

[That's in no way Will's normal voice on that last word, he's well aware. His head jerks in the direction of the WRIGGLE ROOM, full of crickets and worms and maggots and other bugs most people tend to steer away from. Not Will, of course. He's curious to see if it's off-putting or if April will find it gross enough to (in her own way) jump at the chance, even if it's under the pretense of locking it. She can still look in and see all the creepy crawlies in their bins, curl her lip up. Or go right in and ew or ah, he doesn't care.]

Don't think you can sneak your way out of this one.

[ She doesn't grab the keys, wrapping her fingers around his wrist instead to guide them both, assuming he's coming along willingly, back to the...

Wriggle Room. April's frown isn't totally fake as she tries to work out what that would be as she sticks her head in. Oh. Oh, of course. It was final. Not like she'd been planning it anyway, but she was never getting Eddie and Will in the same room. Ever. She'd be forced to kill them all for the greater good. And she hated doing things for the greater good.

For the worms and bugs and stuff, though, they weren't really her thing. Not outside of plots to put them in the beds of the deserving or release them during a fancy party. And, hm. Now that might help. She doesn't want to touch them, but she's already got a kidnapping victim for that kind of thing.]

We'll need a to go bag.

[He does come along willingly, a role model of willingly being led around that even his dog could stand to learn from. Oh, he keeps the thin lips, looks at her like he's taking this all very seriously, these asking questions and come with me, but he can't be bothered to transfer that bodily. It's not until she actually frowns that he finally does the opposite, wonders what her problem with it all is. His first guess is the bugs, but he recalls a very strong reaction to a joke about lines and well—how can he not smile at the idea that she's profoundly offended by wordplay and puns and the like that's all over hats, shirts, his shop in general?

He's careful when he moves to reclaim himself, reaching out for a small box to show that his intentions are true, getting some to go. He has no idea what she's thinking of using them for, but he's full up on bugs. He breeds them. He can afford to lose a few.]

You have any specific wants for what's to go? [He has a box of gloves, no worries. He's not going to touch them bare-handed, not in front of her.] Crickets, nightcrawlers, not to mention—

[If she follows where he points, if she narrows her eyes and focuses in the dim lighting, that sure is a bunch of rolling, semi-white, grubby bodies in the bin nearest her. The sort of thing most people find gross, and Will knows it. He's pointing them out in a room of plenty else he could bring to her attention. Not yet asking or implying she should get her own box, but still.

Ew.

He's doing it on purpose, no doubts about it. The tone of voice, the casual way he doesn't at all mind being in a room full of them, the way he's just shy of cheerfully getting that to go cart ready—it's all intentional.]

God, why are there maggots?

[ You did it, Will. You broke her. She drops the act for a moment as the sunglasses come off so she can see- then look away from- then look back to the writhing mass. She is staying firmly in the doorway, thank you, folding her arms over her chest. It is gross, no denying, but not enough for her to leave or anything. Just enough she's leaving it to him.

But the fact he's comfortable around things that creep her out is more a plus than anything. It's not like it's gross in the rainbows and disney and sharing feelings way. It's gross in the right, strange kind of way. ]

These guys?

[His face lights up, enough to show that Will not only doesn't find them creepy, no no. He quite enjoys their presence. He likes bugs of all kinds, that much is easy to see. If the way he opens the bin and goes about digging into it without any qualms—with an almost childlike eagerness—is anything to go by, he might be as fond of icky insects as he is of dogs.]

These are waxworms, sometimes called waxies. If left alone, they'd grow into wax moths. [But Will is not leaving them alone, nope. The rolling mass is shifted about as he picks the best of them to go. If they could scream, April's ears might be bleeding.] Feed 'em to geckos, bearded dragons, turtles, amphibians, hedgehogs, some birds. Humans, too. High fat content. I assume they crunch.

[Which he says to one of the squirming things as he holds it up, watching it writhe around his fingers without a hope in the world of getting away. Discussing dining on a creature while he looks at it, about to stuff it in a box with others of its kind—a little morbid, perhaps, but nothing truly out of the ordinary.]

Which isn't what you asked. [He realizes that not everyone cares. That April probably cares less about bugs and is on the verge of telling him as much. Time to put on the big boy pants and recognize it, offer something like a sheepish smile, the epitome of someone who just wanted to share and got caught up in it, can't he be forgiven, look at his face, he's not good with people, he knows, he's aware.] They're here because they're good sellers, that's all.

[Definitely the only reason the specific bug is under his care. Not because he likes them. No way. He is not putting that lid back on with the same sort of care one uses with tucking an infant into bin, he has no real appreciation of them, they're just live bait. Totally there for that and nothing else.]

And probably look hot on the end of a hook.

[Her expression still says gross, and she's not coming any closer as he pets and coos at the bug mass. It's okay to have weird, disgusting loves, Will. Just don't expect her to go rolling in the deep with you. In fact, she steps back out of the doorway, into the shop proper again, and takes a moment to call back into the writhing darkness before slipping the sunglasses back on.]

Lock up. I was promised the afternoon. Not your flesh munching friends.

[ This was her kidnapping plan. No distractions of terrible puns or gross worm fetishes will be switching that plan up. Yet. April never had been very good with follow through, but she can at least stay on task for whole tens of minutes at a time. ] ]

[It can be gross to her, isn't abnormal for people in general to find it gross. He manages to keep his mouth shut in regards to flesh munching, restraining from going on about what sort of insects do enjoy a good munch of flesh, from getting into territory that might be too much. Instead, there's a series of lights being turned off or lower, dimmed, moving around the room as quickly as he possibly can, coming back out with that box dangling off fingers in the way people might with a bag of fast food. Familiarity with to go boxes of gross nasty bugs, spoken in volumes as he locks the door and shifts to another key.]

You can have more than the afternoon, you know. [She does not need to go rolling in the deep in hideous waders with no problems playing with bugs to get the afternoon and more.] You see this place, don't you? [The hand that gets waved as he makes his way around to shut off the lights encompasses the ridiculous shirts and hats, the room filled with bugs, all of it.] This is probably worse than Virginia. You're kinda saving me right now.

[He's not implying heroism. An intervention isn't necessarily heroic. Sometimes people just get fed up with something and have to put their foot down, that's all. Which she might have to do soon because for the first time in a while it seems like Will Graham has forgotten that he's not supposed to smile, not like this, not for extended periods of time.]

Hm...We could burn it for the insurance money. Then I'd get all the afternoons. And a yacht or volcano lair after.

[ It's not her fault she had fire on the mind since seeing that hat. Still, April Ludgate: Mysterious Government Agent has wandered off for the time being, and whether or not she'll be making a come back was to be determined. But that didn't change the plan over all, just meant she would be making the next ~~demand~~ request slightly differently.

She stayed put somewhere near the front door as he went around closing up shop, slipping the sunglasses down again so she can see if it's dim enough to catch his eyes flash in the lowered light. She was used to seeing it around her all the time, the raccoons, the cats, everything. But there was something almost better about seeing it on a person.

When he's done, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a scarf. Not a shark or fish or in anyway aquatic themed one. Just a black affair, no tassels or anything fancy. Then gestures with it for him to hurry up already and come next to her.]

But stand over here. You're not allowed to see where we're going.

[His eyes do shine from time to time as he turns off everything but the light by the door, and it's obvious that it's now a part of him. It's nothing he has to activate, so to speak, has to put effort into making happen—it just does it whenever the lighting he moves in and of is right, same as with the raccoons, the cats, everything else. Though, his seem to skew almost primarily to yellow as opposed to any other color. Now, at least. He doesn't honestly believe she'd try burning down his shop, but it's enough to get his lips back in a thin line, have him looking nearly grumpy as he turns the key that closes the cash register for good. Less so when he hangs up the hat. No punny hats in her face from here on out.

April Ludgate: Mysterious Government Agent vanished at all the creepy crawlies, he's well aware. So he does the nicest thing he can by wrapping the box in a plastic bag and knotting it, putting another layer of not gross bugs between the gross bugs and her should something come up. The appearance of a scarf has his eyebrows knitting together, confused until opens her mouth. Scarves have...well, they make him think of someone before they make him think of anything else now.]

Can't see much right now. [It's double the joke, because even as he turns off the front light, the windows of the shop still let in plenty that his eyes interpret better than most, light that leaves them a mix of yellow and green depending on how he moves his head. Eduardo has probably given her the exact same face a time or two, probably even held a few keys in his hand while doing it. He trusts her to lock the front door rather than make him do it blindfolded.] Better make it so I can't see anything.

[To help her along with this actually difficult process, he stands a little closer than was actually suggested, leaning down just enough that she won't have to do much to reach and closing his eyes. Kind of impossible for him to be truly in the dark if they're even the slightest bit open.]

[ It's a good thing Will is willing to play fair, because while she enjoys the yellow on green to a near unnatural degree, April would never claim to know the reason for it. The biology behind why eyes glowed at night was just something she'd never bothered to look into, too busy being pleased by the result to look for the cause. She takes the words to heart, though, wrapping the scarf once, twice, three times over his eyes so it's just as good at trapping in heat as it as at blocking out light.

She lets go for a moment after she's done, bobbing her head back and forth to see if there's any way for light to get in. But once that inspection is done and she's done and the needed tugging to make sure his eyes are covered is complete, she ducks in for a small payment/reward. Just a quick kiss, her grin fully evident by touch if not by sight, before she pulls away and grabs his hand. There's still a bit of a walk to the car, after all. ]

So burning is a...maybe?

[The mild case of hat hair, he's sure, is not very much improved by a scarf taking up residence in said hat's place, but he's not one to care. It's much easier not to pretend he can't see anything when he actually can't, so if April does anything like holding her hand out, looking ready to slap him or whatever test she might be doing, he doesn't respond. He's totally blind. Quite nice to be in the dark by choice with someone he can trust not to take extreme advantage of it.

He's not expecting the reward when it comes, that much shows. He may look doofier smiling as he is, blindfolded, but that's another thing he currently can't be bothered to care about. He'd been content and willing to follow her lead before, no need for that to change. While there's a minute bit of worry in the back of his head (walking out like this, public, easily seen), it ends up pushed down. April has a small army of raccoons who lovingly do her bidding—anyone who tried to mess with her had another thing coming.]

No. [The seriousness of his voice doesn't really match how ridiculous he must look, he knows, but it's all he has at the moment. The moment he carefully lets go of the door, transferring trust to how well he knows the outside area and April herself. Physically, even, giving her hand a squeeze.] Burn some shirts or hats or products that don't sell or get damaged, but not the full shop.

[Said remarkably like regular conversation, even as his free hand lingers to the side to make sure he doesn't bust his ass by tripping over a bench. He's a grown up, he can take responsibility for himself, do the little things, keep April from feeling like she has to do everything.]

We're not walking through all of Heropa like this, are we?

[He's not really a dog.]

Fine. But this is why we can't have nice things.

[ She doesn't even both trying to make it sound suffering, it's just the statement of a (mildly sarcastic) fact. The shop full of bugs and puns is why they can't have nice things. Mostly because with that one Will, at least, is too busy having things he actually wants instead. And if it works for him and she gets bugs to later plant in a room full of people in fancy dress? She can live with it.

The walk from the shop- and yes, she does stop and lock up- to the car is slower than it really needs to be, but the goal isn't to bring him to the event looking like a domestic abuse victim following him actually walking into a door. Or tree. Or tripping into a pit filled with ninjas or whatever dangers Virginia had in it. She keeps her grip on his hand the whole way, mentioning 'step' or other directions as needed for them to reach the passenger door.]

And who says we're staying in Heropa?

Edited 2014-10-02 23:49 (UTC)

[Hannibal Lecter probably also considers the bait shop a reason why nice things can't be had, but far be it from Will to say that out loud. For one thing, he doesn't know if April has ever spoken to him. For another, the less he mentions Hannibal Lecter or thinks of him until the moment he absolutely cannot due to photographs being shoved in his face, the better.

Not actually a dog or otherwise, he's damn good with this following of the lead, swimming along to the guidance provided. Perhaps she'll take it as trust or perhaps she'll take it as a guy who's just super good with commands and would not walk forward if he could hear a car coming, he can't control that, won't ask after it. Blindfolded and with a box of to go waxies in a bag, he might get a few curious glances, but he seems unwilling to be bothered by that much, either. There's a mumbled thanks at a least one of the directions offered, and not much else until she stops and mentions the idea of leaving Heropa. The mystery adventure, it had been called, was something he was open-minded about. It could have been a trip to a particular place she liked as much as it could have been States away—keeping an open mind in regards to what April would get up to was a damn coping mechanism. That fake maggot-carting hand extends enough that, yes, he can feel a car door. Even though he's blindfolded, when he turns in the direction of her voice, it's probably easy enough for her to determine what expression would be on his face if he could utilize all of it.]

Are you driving or am I blindfolded so I don't know that there's a few furry little bandits behind the wheel?

[It's an honest question.]

EAR is an amazing driver. But you have to wait 'till to find out.

[ Of course she's driving. The raccoons had done that for her the once and no one- even people that weren't on Earth yet at the time- lets her forget about it. God. But she's grinning sightly more as she releases him and moves around the car to sip into the drivers seat. A task which involves noise and her arm fairly clearly against he if he actually takes his seat on the passenger side, but who knows. She could have the raccoons sitting on her lap and at her feet for driving while she supervised, if she really wanted to.

There is the faint sound of one of them chittering in the back seat, particularly when she compliments his driving skills. A couple more sitting in silent mode may not be totally impossible.]

[Getting in isn't an issue, even blindfolded. The slowness comes not from hesitation that he'll muck it up, but just in case there is a friendly raccoon warming his seat that needs a moment's warning to get out of the way. He might no longer be involved with law enforcement, but buckling in comes first. Buckling in, shuffling his arm over just enough that there's no question as to whether he can feel hers, and fiddling around in his front pocket until he pulls out a small bag of dog treats. He didn't have time to properly prepare for a raccoon outing (kidnapped, just as she said), so it's all he has. It gets extended in the direction of the chittering, though if it ends up taken by raccoon hands far too close by to be the one he can hear, there won't be any mention of it.]

Do they have women driver jokes here, too? [His hand goes up to flip down the sun visor, despite the sun not being much of any issue.] There a whole new set of 'em thanks to the cars being what they are?

[Sure is one thing to talk about in the car that has nothing to do with where they're going.]

I am going to kill at least one person before this trip is over. It's true.

[ Said, as always, with the seriousness only reserved for the truly insane commentary. There is, for once, just the one raccoon in the back, who is more than willing to take each and every treat he can get his hands on. April may be okay feeling naked while wandering the streets without them, but she only has the one car. It needs to be guarded and possibly warmed up for a quick get-away tonight.

It's a short (hover) drive over to the teleportation station, with more than one honked horn following them as April followers her 'a good offense is the best defense' technique of driving to get them there. ]

But we've still got a long trip to go.

[The mention of murder gets little reaction—his lips tilt upwards just enough to classify as trying to smile, but he's also currently wooing whichever raccoon has joined them. It could be for either, doesn't grow into anything more until he finally passes off the bag itself. Whether or not the raccoon has a savings plan in mind or eats it all in one go is none of his concern, but it's all his now.

Honked horns get little to no attention, though if there's any jerkiness in the trip, they get the appropriate physical reactions. April is going to kill at least one person but it can't be now, not with the raccoon and herself at stake. He's confident they'll be fine, no need to act otherwise. He does point when she mentions a long trip to go, the line of sight from finger to destination actually ending up being just over his shoulder as opposed to his head, but hey—recovering.]

Like this? The whole way? In— [It's useless, the way he turns like he could see anything, but it happens anyway.] —are we still in public?

[His voice lowers on the last bit as if they are already in a mall crowd. He's not so sure about this one.]

Mm. A little. But we're super-jerks. They probably think it's ninja training or something.

[ Though her tone doesn't change for this first part, she does stop her getting up and going plan, giving up on the whole 'going into the porter building' action for a moment. He'd been good, so far. And while there's an undeniable sigh in her voice now- he's being very grown up about her whole childish plan here- she's at least talking about it. In the same whispered level as him, even though there aren't that many people around.]

Feeling shy?

[There is absolutely no need for him to lean in when her voice lowers, too, but he does it anyway. Whether it's seen as the natural reaction or him taking the chance to get closer isn't up to him, though without the use of half his face to make it clear through expression, well. Could be either, it's a tough call. The way his shoulders tense at the question, though, that's not difficult to see. How does he really answer that?]

No. [I just don't want the wrong people to get the right idea, sounds ominous, doesn't it? It's fine. It's different here. April has a host of raccoons to protect her, and what a glorious way that would be for any pretentious serial killer to finally get caught, right? There's a short hesitation before he finally settles on the border of self-deprecation.] I end up running into something like a dumbass, not gonna leave me, right?

[One hand goes to the car door—no, no, this will be fine. Lightly said, no fear that April will take it as one way to express abandonment issues deeper than the Mariana Trench. Though maybe dumbass isn't far off the mark, considering he rarely uses cars here and is having a moment of fudging around, trying to find the handle. Every car is different, all right?]

Eh. Not 'till you get me the dinnerware promised. Anyway.

[ Look at her, referencing former conversations. Not that she's going to start remembering all the shit she says, but she can remember bits and pieces that amuse (and suit) her. She grabs for the arm fumbling at the door, and leans in that extra half inch to push her forehead against his for a moment. Because, seriously, what's the point of blind folding the man if not to sneak in whatever contact she wants, right? The liberty has her grinning faintly, anyway. ]

Hold still. I'm giving the tour, okay?

[ AKA she will go open that door and guide him out to the teleportation pad. If she can trust him to sit quietly for the five seconds is takes her to walk around the car. ]

[Referencing former conversations—shit. He's not sure if that means the plan for the abduction is, in fact, going somewhere fancy and stealing all their utensils, but it catches his attention either way. He doesn't believe the actual criminal activity will be anything too terrible, so if she's earnest about this theft? Could be worse. The sneaked contact is something he doesn't mind at all, lets his hand still and pushes back just enough that it's present but nowhere close to headbutt territory. He can sit still. Sort of. He sits still in the way that he doesn't fumble for the handle and yet he does turn to say something to the raccoon. His mouth moves and noise seems to pass from it, at any rate.

There's no reaction, negative or positive. It's possible he's just yanking April's chain. It's just as possible he said something completely pointless and the best reaction was to continue eating dog treats. Either way, without super hearing...the world outside Will and the fuzzy bandit may never know. Other than that, he's still even when the door opens, waiting for a further sign that he's allowed to move, even if it ends up being a foot nudge or a grabbing of the hand. Which is all he'll need to get his ass in gear.]

No Heropa. You can't stand Virginia, so—Maurtia Falls?

[To be honest, the most surprising thing she could pull out would be taking him to the old state for lovers. He's leaving it up in the air—best thing to do with April, keep an open mind—but the mentions of Maurtia Falls he's heard, well. Small, discreet.

It's one possible fit.]

If you guess right, I'm changing the plan.

[ And it is indeed time to get his ass in gear. She's leaving the car behind, one hand wrapped lightly around his wrist even as she gives EAR a look. People conspiring with her raccoons (that weren't her) was still a new one. Even Mitch and Eddie, who'd worked with them however unwillingly for years, had never done much more than treat them like an inescapable pest. The raccoon isn't cracking though, too innocently looking up at her from the ground as he carries the bag of dog treats along in his mouth. She'd have to wait.

Luckily the people are few and far between, so her momentary distract doesn't end in Will getting slammed into an innocent bystander or parking meter. It's a straight shot to the porting area of choice. ]

[Will Graham has made something of a hobby out of collecting stray dogs, has turned that hobby into his family. His dogs are not fluffy companions or part of his family. That's all the family he has. So while April might be flippant or apathetic to certain things, she treats his dog damn well. Of course, she treats his dog like a human should treat a dog, but Gunther stands as an extension of Will. He can tell a lot about a person by how they treat animals; he can tell a lot more about how they treat his animals when he's around to see it, can tell even more by how they react to her when she's not there. How Will can simply be texting her with a stupid grin on his face and the dog grows interested, the tail starts wagging when Will verbally lets him in on the secret of who he's "talking" to.

Of course he's going to treat her raccoons as extensions of her, too. It's not that he's conspiring in an attempt to get a one up on her or that he's trying to win them over to his side, not at all. As far as he's concerned, if the raccoons could talk, whatever he'd say to them would end up getting back to her soon enough. No. April treats Gunther like a friend's dog, because that's what he is. Will treats her raccoons like intelligent sneaky voracious beasts who can do taxes and have a front row seat to making sure his friend stays safe and sound, because that's what they are. He's aiming to give her as much respect as she's given him, even if she never ever views it that way.

What else is friendship for?

Changing the plan, that's a threat. That's the ticket to Will keeping his mouth shut. That's the time when he lifts up a hand, retreats, gives up on the guessing game, follows directions and her lead without grumble or complaint. If there are any whispers going around about the oddness of the two of them, he's drowned them out, turned the whole world to her and nothing else.

He makes it with the briefest trip up of what appears to be putting one foot out too soon, but no other incidents to report. One little trip up that means her grip has to tighten. Certainly that wasn't the goal behind the clumsiness, couldn't be. It's a Goddamn miracle. Quiet and obedient and not a bruise on him.

Quiet until he speaks up, voice just above a whisper and meant to come out somewhere near her ear, though if he flubs it up and gets a bunch of hair in his face...can't be helped, can it?]

Is he coming with?

[Will travels by Porter technology on a daily basis, perk of being Registered. He has not yet had the pleasure to do so with a raccoon in tow. The way his shoulder lifts...hell, he's already blindfolded, why not throw a raccoon on him, too. Just make the entire trip a legitimately brand new experience in every single way.]

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