#godstrayed — will graham.

[downs1de]

PROMPTS FOR LIES, DECEIT, AND VILLAINY

@godstrayed: "That sounds like a you problem." (From Will)

House leans heavily on his cane inside the dimly lit patient’s room, fluorescent lights flickering intermittently. The antiseptic smell is almost tasteable as he looks at his most recent patient, Will Graham (as it states on his file), sitting hunched over on his gurney, with clear signs of fatigue and pain in his face and the tone of his voice.

Makes sense, as he wouldn’t be here otherwise, but as the one in need of medical attention, House expected him to be a little more cooperative.

"Ah, I see."

"So you’re the kind of guy who likes to play hard to get with potentially life-saving information... How charming."

[bullsh1tterz]

: : @godstrayed : : CONTINUED FROM [X]

The questions tell Adam two things. One: the man's alive. Frankly, his very demeanor is that of a ghost, but part of Adam's beginning to wonder if that's just the way his form falls. And two: he's just about as confused as him. Two pebbles thrown into a giant pit to rot, each rattling in its own way against the sides of the wall and yet sharing in the futility of the mutual effort. Or, well, soon to be. He knows the drill. Perhaps he's let his hair grow and the bags under his eyes have since deepened, but he's still the very same man whose name made it on the ever-dreadful list of former Jigsaw victims survivors. And that very unchanging nature of his, he theorizes, has sent him back under another game's harrowing clutch.

"Adam." he doesn't give him his last name. Doesn't matter if this isn't his first rodeo - it's a whole other game with rules he'll equally fail to comprehend. "'n if I knew where we were, sugar-dick, I wouldn't've held out on ya." head quirks, eyes narrowed to observe the other. It's a miracle his delirium had lasted long enough for Adam to finish squirming, freaking out and cursing his tongue to death as he processes the predicament.

"Some shithole." Not literal this time. It's almost an upgrade. He's doing his very best to emit the mixture of irritation and nonchalance he wished he'd displayed the first time, but the way his chest tightens and his hand shakes gives him away almost entirely. He hopes the other's stupid - but something in his eyes reeks of intelligence.

Frantically, he pats himself down, rummaging through his pockets to no avail. " Fuck. Aight there should be a tape around here somewhere. Shake y'rself off 'r else I'll do it forya." or he could just sit here and accept an inevitable death. Most people don't live past one of these - two is a stretch, he figures, and his nerves twist at the rationale.

[decoresca-archived]

༄ @godstrayed ♥ ˚⁀ ➷ 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒𝑑

❛ That doesn't make me feel any better about it, ❜ she replies, smile gentle but concern sincere in her eyes. ❛ I'm a little worried that it's still beating this fast but you're here for your head... ❜ Peach grabs at the clipboard at her side, adding a few notes. When her attention returns to him, her smile is apologetic.

❛ I hope you don't mind me doing a few preliminary checks for the doctor. We're a little understaffed this evening, but I can assure you there will be one shortly and if you have any concerns, he'll take a better look. ❜ From the pocket of her pink scrubs, she takes out a small flashlight. ❛ How is it, your head ? It doesn't need any stitches, there's no blood - but it's quite a bump. I can imagine it must hurt. ❜

She places her fingertips against his jaw, just to tilt his head slightly to the left. ❛ What does it feel like ? Throbbing, pounding, aching ? ❜ She turns the light toward his eye from the outer corner, noting his pupils. ❛ All the above ? Do you feel dizzy, nauseous ? ❜

[autopsified]

·:¨༺ ♱ ༻¨:·@godstrayed's last words ; "could you stop pacing? You're making me dizzy."

"Seriously? That's your problem right now?" Adam half shouts at his companion on the other side of the dank bathroom. It's not that he's claustrophobic. Hell- if he was he would have had to move apartments by now. He doesn't like containment. It makes the residual affects of the various traumas he's experienced before this scream. Even if he's perfectly content with where he is in life- figuratively and literally- the moment he feels like he's tied down he panic's like a rabid dog on a leash.

Still, Adam complies and perches on the edge of the rusted tub. The shackle around his ankle is starting to rub his skin raw, and he should probably save some of his energy for figuring out how the fuck they're supposed to get out of there. "I'm just trying not to fuckin' panic here, man," Adam says. Apologies aren't really his thing, especially about his already unhealthy habit of lashing out in high stress situations. But explaining this trait of his is the second best option.

[what-the-stark]

@godstrayed from x

"I don't have to strain too hard to picture that, unfortunately" Tony replied flatly, his expression blank as he scanned the screen before him. Panic roiled, swelling within him and he shoved it back down under his battered heart, unwilling to allow himself even an unseen out when people were dying.

Not again.

He knew intellectually that this one wasn't his fault, but he couldn't quiet the little voice that insisted it could be, it might be. Everything about this stomped on his triggers and he knew it made him reckless. After a few months wild goose chase he'd been desperate enough for a solution that he'd taken it downhill to Quantico once he'd been referred by Fury. Even the unlikely savior of a guy who could visualize the day planners of serial killers was a shot he had to take at this point. It wouldn't be the first time something he'd made had gone rogue, after all.

"Something's been tagging my remote networks. Blatantly. It wanted me to know it was there. Like a smug kid knocking and leaving a bag of flaming shit on the front steps, to be inelegant. I've tracked it to servers with references to every one of those murders, but when I follow up they just seem to fucking evaporate. What else can you tell me? Because trust me when I say that anyone or anything that's learned to cover its digital tracks from me is a threat."

[corxner]

cont. | @godstrayed [Will Graham] —

soulsmate au!

Faust thought that, if he was able to paint and draw in monochrome, he'd be able to live life the same.

He didn't have any hope of having the so called ‘soulmate’ either. Why would he? Why would he have one— When he didn't even belong in this place, like a puzzle piece from another set that somehow fit into this one: an anomaly. He didn't know how to react when he stepped into that classroom. When everything became vibrant again; all the colors blossomed and bloomed, making his head ache. Luckily it was dulled down to a degree by his very signature carmine glasses. He didn't think he'd miss it so much— he thought he didn't need it. But no, in fact, Faust craved it, craved something that would remind him he's alive.

The statistics hadn't been wrong; Will isn't wrong about not having a soulmate either. Because he didn't. Faust felt like a fraud, truth be told. How is he supposed to feel anything else? When he knew. He knew Will is right and yet he is willing to lie, perhaps somehow make up for throwing the other's heart and mind into chaos (he knew he had no right to). He felt guilty.

“I had accepted that I didn't have one too,” Faust started. Not entirely a lie. “and it's okay if you won't open up to me that way” the concept of strangers who just happened to paint the other's life in colour is romantic, he can't deny that— but for them to be forced to love each other as basis? It felt forceful. “But I thought we could at least— I don't know. Be friends?” at the very least, he expected ‘fate’ to have find him someone with similar, broken mind. Someone he could relate to, someone he would get along with (someone Faust wished to have around. To be around).

“...I can wait, if you'd like to figure out to undo all that in solitude. There's really no rush” he reassured, genuine and not a hint of sarcasm behind his words. He wanted to try and help, but that was left unsaid. Worried it'd only push Will further away. “It's also your right to not undo it at all. But I hope that won't be the case”

[fireheld]

Billy can do this — just go in, talk to @godstrayed, and leave. It’s not like he hadn’t sat in his class, drunk off of his ass once or twice or anything like that.

Simple. He doubts he’s even recognisable given that his hair isn’t shorn to his ears anymore and he’s got that nose ring he always wanted. Not nearly as pale and sickly as those early days.

He hides the burns on his neck behind his hair.

All he has to do is tell him about the case file, poor girl all windchafed and strung up, feeling and smelling like fear and raw blood. He pushes the phantom memory down, hides it in his chest to be purged when he’s alone in the warm darkness of his too-small apartment.

Thankfully, when he finally gets the courage to swipe the case file from his desk and walk down to the auditorium, there’s no students — gives him less of a chance of being snapped at. He isn’t scared of Will Graham, not by any means, but the authority he has over Billy is one that makes his teeth itch with nearly forgotten shadows and bleach.

Stepping into the room, he stops before the desk and doesn’t try to catch his eye.

“Hey, Crawford sent me,” Holds the file out, careful to keep the chances of them touching to zero, “there’s a case he needs you to.. profile.”

[autopsified]

·:¨༺ ♱ ༻¨:· | | @godstrayed's last words ; “you don’t need to keep pushing yourself so hard, you know. we all know how hard you worked to get here - it’s okay to let yourself breathe now.”

Kind words are still a cause of confusion and suspicion for her. Will sounds so genuine when he tells her this, but it's hard to believe him when what he's saying seems to wrong. She hadn't worked particularly hard. She'd simply met the expectations set of her- and she doesn't yet see a reason to question why they would be. Maybe after she processes the madness she's still so recently endured. But not yet.

"I'm okay," she says. A lie so automatic it hardly registers as a lie anymore. "You don't need to say things just to make me feel better. I'm okay, I'm safe. You've done more than enough to help me." However wrong this is, since they only just found and took her in a few days ago, she says it with such earnesty and admiration for him. It's not that she thinks of him as a father, not yet at least, but it's the first time she can recall a male adult other than a teacher paying any kind of attention to her, much less looking out for her.

[fireheld]

DODGE / will — @godstrayed

The air is knocked from him, there’s a little pause of dead silence before the sound rushes in — his forced inhale, gasping, the loud bang of a gun, whistling through the air where it would’ve impacted him had he still been standing there.

More noise — shouted code numbers and return fire, Billy can hear them hitting a body and then the thud, lifeless, against the ground and the buzzing of activity.

Turning to peer up at the weight on him, he squints, licking at his teeth for a moment as if counting that they’re all still in place before speaking: “you okay, Graham?”