#empathicdesign

@empathicdesign​ liked for a starter from Molly

The Humane Society was definitely a place of solace and comfort for Molly. They were never quiet, but always gentle and full of love. Some mornings, when the hop was closed and Willy was at school) Molly would do a bit of volunteering. She would walk the adoptable dogs and do her best not to bring anyone home with her. So far, she had succeeded. It was a great start to a morning, even without newly acquired companionship to show for it. She was practically bouncing as she made he was down the grocery store isles a (her first chore of the day) in search of Lunchables. She had no idea why they were so important for field trip food, but... it was a good day, why not let her son indulge a little.  She was examining the options when, after possibly leaning a little too hard on her cart, the corner of her cart collided with that of someone else.  She blushed furiously and stammered a quick apology with a smile.

 “ Oh! I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean t– You..Go right ahead! I’ll look at something else. I don’t- I don’t mind. Just... didn’t mean to get all tangled with you“

“ Machismo, Hm?” words tickled off her tongue with a humor in her tone. Micha stepped closer to him, glancing at an unkempt button on his shirt. A delicate hand adjusts his outfit; fixing his button and straightening the collar before her hand rests flat on his chest. She found their little cat fights humorous to say the least. It was a small world to run into Zeller, and to know he ‘ rivaled ’ against Will was an entertainment she felt blessed to bear witness to. Micha certainly didn’t qualify to work with the FBI — and yet it became apparent she was involved in more hook ups than she bargained for. While true — the pathologist was a FLING from months, maybe a year ago — it was odd how her world came full circle. Her signature cherry stained cheeky grin fades onto her lips as her fingers become intertwined on the backrest of his neck. The one of many spots she enjoyed to place her hands on as if latching onto the profiler became a preferred hobby. “ I would feel threatened if someone as smart and giving as you stepped in to take all the attention.” despite the exhaustion and (slight) annoyance in his expression — Micha was amused to poke the bear with a stick; and then stir the pot with the same makeshift utensil.

Clarice’s lungs labored in the thick air of the humid July night, the hum of cicadas in the trees as the sun set over the distant hills. The air began to cool, and she felt it shift in a soft breeze. The fog would be rolling in soon, covering her small farm in a thick cloud more opaque than the mountains. She worked to herd the small flock of sheep intp the barn for the night. She used to leave them outside, in the pen, but too many had been stolen or attacked by wolves to allow that anymore. Until she and Ardelia could get the fence fixed properly enough to keep predators out, they’d have to sleep indoors. 

When Clarice had run from this place more than ten years before, she never thought she’d have to return. Yet, here she was. Fate had trapped her here, in the place that had been the setting of her greatest horror. Part of her believed that the War had broken out and the railways had been put out of service simply to punish her, as ridiculous as the rest of her mind found that concept. She had never voiced it out loud, thankfully, not that there was anyone to listen besides the sheep and Ardelia, and Clarice would not risk losing her help.

She locked the sheep up in the barn and then walked back up to the farmhouse. She could see Ardelia through the open kitchen window, lighting the lanterns so she could see what she was doing. Starling didn’t know what she would do without her anymore. Probably starve to death so her corpse could be eaten by the wolves out in the garden that, when they had first come here, had been overgrown with weeds, and still would be if she hadn’t taken pity on her. 

Clarice reached the back porch, only to hear one of her traps snap and someone cry out in pain. She grabbed her shotgun from its resting place and headed towards the noise, telling Ardelia to stay in the house. She ran down the path and into the bit of woods behind their storehouse, pointing her gun at the shadowy figure trying to pull his foot from a snare trap.

                   Ariel was ever-curious as she allowed her eyes to ogle the halls of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. This was a portion of her mother’s past she had yet to explore, and Clarice rarely ever spoke on it. Luckily for her, today she might just be able to fill in the gaps of the puzzle. It was rare that her parents would venture to the United States, so she took advantage of the time there. She also took advantage of the fact that a local high school was doing a tour of the agency. Sneaking in behind the students in a manner which mimicked Hannibal Lecter’s talents, she grabbed a visitor badge and blended in with the group. Upon further advancement into the Bureau, she abandoned the rest of the flock with an air of grace. It did not take her long to stumble across someone who had more to do with her father’s past than her mother’s - Will Graham. In fact, stumble would be an accurate word entirely as she ran directly into him. 

                How did she misstep after such careful calculation? 

                                      Everything happens for a reason, right? 

Despite her insistence she wasn’t his student, Mary can’t help but find herself sat in his classroom once again, smirk on red lips as she watched Will walk in. She’s hardly aiming to be subtle with the red apple left on his desk, but subtle isn’t the POINT. 

There was something...Oddly THRILLING about it all. Playing student in front of everyone, twirling black hair in her little skirts and furs. 

Especially so when Will had no idea when she was going to make an appearance. 

Karen tapped her fingers along the steering wheel as she drove down a winding road. She wasn’t surprised Will lived in isolation after all these years but she was surprised that he could manage the sticky heat. The swamps had a special charm, though,  nature grew without man’s intervention--man couldn’t conquer the swamp. There’s the fleeting thought of how many bodies these swamps have hidden at the bottom, but it’s gone as soon as the gps alerts an upcoming turn. 

The change in scenery was...Necessary. Swapping looming buildings for trees was a welcomed shift. It reminded her a little of Vermont, but the colors and culture were brighter. There was more passion, more heart--Louisiana had a taste for life. Karen pushed her sunglasses up and onto her face. She should be coming up on his place, soon. Ten minutes. 

Visiting Will was impromptu and planned all at once. She had called him the night of Evan’s memorial, a few drinks in and remembering the past. She thought of calling her father, but she recalled his easy dismissal of her; he hadn’t reached out since that brush with death. ( Karen had nearly died a few more times since then ) So, calling Paxton was out of the question. She contemplated deleting his number.

Instead she looked up an old friend. His number had changed since they last spoke, but it didn’t take long to find it. His voice was a little gruff, but it was Will. The man who cared so much it hurt him. Karen could never understand how he could manage that until the last few years; she knew too well. Ultimately, he offered her a place to stay while she took a break.

Matt and Foggy insisted for her to go when she told them. Leaving with little notice felt wrong ( even though they hardly had clients ) , so they scheduled her vacation to start later that month. Karen had two weeks with Will. Two weeks in the southern sun to bounce back. To get better---to reconnect. Her associates thought it was a great idea and she hadn’t heard from Frank since the hospital so...

There was no reason to say no. She rented an old car from a shady, but legal, business in New York and started driving. It’s a long trip, but she took naps at a few rest stops and stayed caffeinated. Besides, isolation in the car for two days sure beat an apartment. At home she was alone yet surrounded. Out here, it was just her and the car. It settled something in her bones.

By the time she pulled into the beaten driveway in front of his residence, Karen had less of an edge to her movements. She fidgeted less. Exiting the car, she could hear the familiar sound of dogs barking, some with more excitement than alert. A small smile crept onto her lips as she tugged her suitcase from the backseat. She loved dogs. 

Her knuckles rapped against the screen door three times  ( As  if Will couldn’t hear his own dogs and didn’t get her text from thirty minutes ago ) 

“Door unlocked?” She called out.

@empathicdesign liked this for a starter call for Abigail.