Willard H. Wright (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alethiological) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-07-02 09:47 pm
alethiological) wrote in towerofanimus2013-07-02 09:47 pm
† 1st Mystery; Arrival
Characters: Willard H. Wright, Whoever else makes the mistake of speaking to him
Setting: Room 1-18, Cafeteria, Library
Format: Brackets as starter, but I can switch to whatever.
Summary: The usual new arrival crap, you know how it goes.
Warnings: Old cranky angels are rude as hell
----------
[Room 1-18]
[The first thing done upon regaining movement is a slow, glance-over of the letters, except they're tossed aside in record speed in favor of freezing in place for a minute or two, eyes closed.
No contact. Great.
Then it's like a switch is hit and all the slow movements are switched to a snapping efficiency, slamming open the trunk and digging through the clothes to land on - something.
A frightening stack of six-hundred plus papers that gets pulled out and flipped through quickly while crouched, then - just as quickly as the energy appears - it goes out. Back to apathy with a sigh and a shut of the trunk.]
[Floor 1]
[Alright whatever, so apparently one of the things you have to do is eat the stupid oatmeal. Whatever. There's worse things in the world to deal with.
So after getting dressed and maybe punching a wall or two, there's a deadpan mountain of a person slowly reading through a pile of papers and tapping against the bowl in a manner that can only be defined as distracted.]
[Floor 3]
[Obligations completed, the next thing on the list would be exploring the tower and taking mental notes.
Except the third floor was a library.
Okay, mental map of the tower can happen later. Now is the time to hide out in the mystery section for hours and hours and hours on end. At least he keeps to himself.]
Setting: Room 1-18, Cafeteria, Library
Format: Brackets as starter, but I can switch to whatever.
Summary: The usual new arrival crap, you know how it goes.
Warnings: Old cranky angels are rude as hell
----------
[Room 1-18]
[The first thing done upon regaining movement is a slow, glance-over of the letters, except they're tossed aside in record speed in favor of freezing in place for a minute or two, eyes closed.
No contact. Great.
Then it's like a switch is hit and all the slow movements are switched to a snapping efficiency, slamming open the trunk and digging through the clothes to land on - something.
A frightening stack of six-hundred plus papers that gets pulled out and flipped through quickly while crouched, then - just as quickly as the energy appears - it goes out. Back to apathy with a sigh and a shut of the trunk.]
[Floor 1]
[Alright whatever, so apparently one of the things you have to do is eat the stupid oatmeal. Whatever. There's worse things in the world to deal with.
So after getting dressed and maybe punching a wall or two, there's a deadpan mountain of a person slowly reading through a pile of papers and tapping against the bowl in a manner that can only be defined as distracted.]
[Floor 3]
[Obligations completed, the next thing on the list would be exploring the tower and taking mental notes.
Except the third floor was a library.
Okay, mental map of the tower can happen later. Now is the time to hide out in the mystery section for hours and hours and hours on end. At least he keeps to himself.]
no subject
Don't worry, I won't tell anyone else. It's always rough being stuck between a rock and a hard place, especially in a situation like yours, Willard. But you know, I really enjoyed your books! And not just your detective stories! Before I dig into a book by Nietzsche, I sometimes start munching on What Nietzsche Taught, or I finish up his work with it! It really helps sober me up sometimes!
no subject
... Will. Just Will.
[And there's the confirmation. Normally, here would be the explanation that he's not the same Him as the human Willard, even though they kind of are the same, God works in mysterious ways, et cetera - except she brings up his older works.
It's like the equivalent of complimenting someone's high school English final. But there's no embarrassment here, nope, she's hallucinating it.] I... didn't know people still read those.