wιll graнaм (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
glumshoe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2015-01-01 02:20 pm
glumshoe) wrote in entranceway2015-01-01 02:20 pm
ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘʀᴏғɪʟᴇ ﹣ ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ
[ This is an inauspicious start to the New Year.
Considering the tension since last event, where Will sat side by side with the friend he'd roundly denounced to Ned and, for lack of a better phrase, sat pretty while most of Wonderland's residents tore themselves apart, his and Ned's lack of communication is nothing out of the ordinary. The few times they did speak afterward were short, in the public eye, not betraying their respective secretkeeping but definitely not delving into just what Will's behavior was all about.
Still, pies continued to be delivered, baked dog snacks came. Nothing seemed irreparable, even if it didn't seem good. Will thinks it's about time he cleared the air, and sends word ahead so that, in true introvert form, Ned can prep himself for another intense, likely protracted talk.
In private. Will clarifies one text later, Will your room work? It ought to, Will's headed there.
Except, stepping inside, Will feels a certain inevitability come to pass that he maybe should have picked up from Ned's lack of response. Barren walls, stripped furniture. Like Ned's prepared to move but where the hell would he go? Unless Will's gone strictly on the verboten list and isn't in the perky pie party that gets the new address forwarded to him. But in the unlikely event that Ned is the kind of man that would leave someone behind, well. Then he wasn't who Will thought he was. ]
Hey, little guy - or, girl.
[ he says wearily while the English spaniel raises a cautious nose to the air. Something like her owner. A soft whine sounds. ]
Yeah, I know.
[ Not Ned, but Derby tolerates a newcomer a little bit better than the piemaker, even though she'll be missing Ned. She wouldn't be the only one. The notion dawns on Will to open a channel to the network while Derby occupies herself with skirting Will's immediate proximity. ]
It's been a while since I addressed the network.
[ "Addressed" here is an accurate term; accidental nighttime shows don't count. ]
But for those of you that knew him, Ned, our resident piemaker, has disappeared.
[ Yes, that piemaker from the diner on the eighth floor. Those of you who share the obsession with his baking have suffered a great loss, but don't let that blind you to the greater loss of Ned himself. ]
This might not mean anything, as for recent departees who've wound up right back here, I'm among their number. But I wanted to let Ned's friends know before search parties were sent abroad. Particularly a - Tohru. I'm afraid you'll have to find a temporary hire in your diner.
[ Will gets the dog, sorry. ]
Considering the tension since last event, where Will sat side by side with the friend he'd roundly denounced to Ned and, for lack of a better phrase, sat pretty while most of Wonderland's residents tore themselves apart, his and Ned's lack of communication is nothing out of the ordinary. The few times they did speak afterward were short, in the public eye, not betraying their respective secretkeeping but definitely not delving into just what Will's behavior was all about.
Still, pies continued to be delivered, baked dog snacks came. Nothing seemed irreparable, even if it didn't seem good. Will thinks it's about time he cleared the air, and sends word ahead so that, in true introvert form, Ned can prep himself for another intense, likely protracted talk.
In private. Will clarifies one text later, Will your room work? It ought to, Will's headed there.
Except, stepping inside, Will feels a certain inevitability come to pass that he maybe should have picked up from Ned's lack of response. Barren walls, stripped furniture. Like Ned's prepared to move but where the hell would he go? Unless Will's gone strictly on the verboten list and isn't in the perky pie party that gets the new address forwarded to him. But in the unlikely event that Ned is the kind of man that would leave someone behind, well. Then he wasn't who Will thought he was. ]
Hey, little guy - or, girl.
[ he says wearily while the English spaniel raises a cautious nose to the air. Something like her owner. A soft whine sounds. ]
Yeah, I know.
[ Not Ned, but Derby tolerates a newcomer a little bit better than the piemaker, even though she'll be missing Ned. She wouldn't be the only one. The notion dawns on Will to open a channel to the network while Derby occupies herself with skirting Will's immediate proximity. ]
It's been a while since I addressed the network.
[ "Addressed" here is an accurate term; accidental nighttime shows don't count. ]
But for those of you that knew him, Ned, our resident piemaker, has disappeared.
[ Yes, that piemaker from the diner on the eighth floor. Those of you who share the obsession with his baking have suffered a great loss, but don't let that blind you to the greater loss of Ned himself. ]
This might not mean anything, as for recent departees who've wound up right back here, I'm among their number. But I wanted to let Ned's friends know before search parties were sent abroad. Particularly a - Tohru. I'm afraid you'll have to find a temporary hire in your diner.
[ Will gets the dog, sorry. ]
no subject
George chews her lip, releases it.]
Me too.
Man, I've had people come and go so much here. I don't know why this is bumming me out so much more. I didn't know him well enough.
no subject
[ Belief and the will to reach out corrodes if the effort is rewarded with - this. At a point Will gets worn out considering if it's inevitable or part of Wonderland's social experiment, and he's tired of being a test subject for how much sorrow a human can contain. ]
Maybe it's because you didn't have the chance to get started.
no subject
Maybe this isn't the time, but. Do you want to. Hang out?
[Might as well get to know Will better while she can, right?]
no subject
Will's eyebrows lift a little. ]
Ah, yeah. Better late than never, huh?
What, um. Is there anything you like to do?
no subject
...Drink?
no subject
[ That's pretty high on Will's list too, but in fairness, walking his dogs is the closest to social thing he does if certain people (Evelyn O'Connell) are not involved. ]
Are... you old enough for that?
no subject
[Of course, she was drinking about a year after she died, which would've been when she'd have been 19 if she had been alive, but. Whatever.]
Is that weird? Like. Since you're law enforcement or whatever.