I love these new "type these words into your tags box and post the first tag that automatically pops up" thingies, so fun. Let’s do another one:
Omfg did I really make these tags. XD
//Gee, I think I RP Will Graham.
ask-doctor-lecter replied to your post://My weekly dilemma is whether to dress nicely or…geek hobo always wins for me
//I have seen pictures of your classy ass clothes, you classy ass ;) I think both of us are good at running the gamut between the two.
I’m goin’ to class like this tomorrow. So comfy.
It was an idea which had remained in his mind since he was a youth; since the unbidden thoughts had begun to strike him. To understand the desires of others, to see their creations and be able to deconstruct and reconstruct them in his mind piece by piece leading back to the creator’s hand whether Will had even spoken to them or not- he was young when he knew it was madness. He was a little older when it occurred to him that there could be a cure.
He had seen those overcome with fits soothed by herbs, and were not those ailments of mind and body both? He saw a girl regain her powers of speech even as her body remained out of her control, and the idea came to him: there must be easement for the mind’s troubles. He stubbornly held onto this conclusion even as he grew aware of how unusual it was, keeping his madness as quiet as he could from his noble father and his family. They would not harbor his presumption. They would not give him their blessing to seek such a remedy. Will allowed them to assume he was joining the Watch on the day he rode from their house.
He arrived at the keep of Lord Tyrell on horseback, trailed by wolves and dogs, one remaining with him as he was admitted. The part of his madness he did not dislike and wished to keep, dismissing the strangers with his mind, thanking them for their protection.
And he was not turned away outright and he was allowed entrance and he was granted audience (his remaining canine companion lingering out of doors with the horse). A curiosity would be heard, at least. An oddment might be introduced to one of the healers birds and whispers told him resided here. He bore himself as well as he could, refusing to shrink away.
Will remained facing the lord as the others departed at his orders, his eyes sliding cautiously and then returning, resting at the other man’s shoulder. It was not subservience only; Will had long ago found his mind could take the view of others from their eyes, or so it seemed to him. It was unpleasant to see so much of them. It was mad.
"Then I have been told truly when it was said that there are gifted healers in your household?" Will asked, following.
“Your informants have not lead you astray.” The doors creaked open, hinges groaning with the weight of the old wood. Hannibal’s nose was treated to the smell of burning incense; Dragonsblood. The room was laid out in a relaxed fashion, the chairs were well-cushioned, but most of the furniture were plush lounges, the fabric of the mattress being that of a beautiful design. Two large fountains flanked either side of the room, surrounded by plants imported across the narrow sea. It was a space designed to be calming, the deep gold and blue tones accompanied by only torchlight adding to that atmosphere.
The room was empty, save for the two of them, and Hannibal turned to face his guest. “So tell me, Waters, what is it that plagues you so that you have become desperate enough to believe in fairytales?” He knew that the art of healing had become something of a hushed rumor since real magic had died. The powers that had once been deemed ‘miracles’ were lost to him, and had never been in his clutches to begin with.