26 April 2012 @ 02:28 pm
[Action] At Mafield High  
In the classroom
[Will walks into his first class of the day carrying a box, it looks like a package one might pick up from the post office. He greets the class for the day and gets them started on an assignment before sitting down at his desk and letting curiosity get the best of him. He starts to open the box, carefully pushing the flaps apart and removing a fair amount of tissue to reveal...a cherry slushie? Somehow it hadn't melted, it was still perfectly frozen and in a large plastic cup just like the ones from the gas station back in ohio. It was so...strange to see that here. He lifts it out of the box and places it on his desk, still a little bewildered that this is what Mayfield sent to him. It wasn't long before a fairly large drone boy from the back of the class stood up and walked up to his desk. The kid had a on a Mayfield football jersey and letterman's jacket, the stereotypical "jock." Before Will could even react the drone kid picked up the slushie and threw it in his face...

...

did Mayfield just slushie him?]


In the teachers lounge (after the slushie)
[Will is in the teacher's lounge in his undershirt with his sweater vest and dress shirt sitting under the running water of the sink. Back at home they told him you just couldn't get slushie out of anything but he was really hoping they were wrong.]

 
 
02 April 2012 @ 04:07 pm
#3 - Prankfield  
 [A] - [for Anakin [personal profile] chosen_to_fall , Fujiwara no Mokou [personal profile] reflames , Mion Sonozaki [personal profile] envyspites , Will Schuester [personal profile] bustsamove , and Ilsa Higa [personal profile] ooeeooahah  ]
 
[Once he'd gotten home from downtown, Keith had found the letter and what Shirley had done made much more sense. 

What a strange town. . .

While not exactly competitive, an idea suddenly struck him. He was used to games - Hero TV, for example - and he enjoyed them. Maybe if he could help some people but still play the game, it would be worth it.

Which is why the people in his letter are going to get a knock at the door, or a ring at the doorbell. When the door is opened, the only thing that will be on the porch is a pastry box and a note.  You've been ding dong ditched!

 The pastry box has pie!  Delicious, normal pie, to make up for the trick. The note reads: 
 
Have a nice day. 

p.s. You may want to stay inside. 

It may be possible to catch him though; maybe he's tripped, or maybe this house has something magical about it, or maybe there's a sneeze from those bushes or behind that fence.  But he's trying very hard for a clean getaway!]
 
 
B. - Anywhere
 
[That was better.  It was a bit strange how he felt so much better after leaving his notes; less tired, so much less that it was noticeable. He's going to walk home quickly though; he definitely understood he was a target for othe-- Oh, that was a nice cloud in the sky.

Maybe he's a little less focused than he hoped.  And he'll definitely be helping anybody in need.]

 
 
23 February 2012 @ 03:54 pm
At the Park  
[Will has been laying low since the surgeries. While he didn't have one himself there was plenty going on to mess with his head. It didn't help that the item he received from the post office a week later was such an important reminder of his home. He's sitting on a park bench thumbing through a rather large looking book. It's leather bound with a red cover and gold lettering. The pages seem to be filled with more photos than words. As he flips through you can see a range of emotions play across his face. Happiness, sadness, sometimes a little chuckle to himself. What could possibly be in that book?!]
 
 
31 January 2012 @ 04:31 pm
Action: All over town  
[Anyone that was at the High School a few days ago may remember this guy and his festering head wound. He seems to have recovered, maybe.

Will is walking aimlessly through town, his skin pale and clammy looking. His head wound is still visible, but the blood has congealed into a disgusting black clot. He feels cold to the touch, like a living corpse. You would think this would be the worst of it, but all of the physical problems pale in comparison to the sheer loneliness and despair that has overcome him sense he was revived. He remembers everything about his death, but not the wounds or the pain, the endless void of his death. If he were capable of crying right now he would, but he can't even manage to do that. He's quietly mumbling something to himself. You'll have to go bother him to find out what it is.]
 
 
25 January 2012 @ 12:11 pm
At School | At home (749 Partridge Dr)  
[This morning started off as typically as any other for Will. He got up, he got dressed, he walked over to the High School to teach. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until about half way through his second period, when a drop of blood dripped off of his forehead and onto his hand as picked up an eraser to remove something from the chalk board. That was weird, he didn't remember doing anything to injure himself.

As the day progresses his wound gets worse, it's getting bigger, it's getting painful. He ends up in the school's nurses office to dress it but that's not really helping much. The bandage is soaked through by the time classes are out. It's getting so bad he can hardly thing straight, like his brain just isn't working. Maybe that's what lead him to just walk back home at the end of the day.

Once he's home he just crawls into bed, maybe if he goes to sleep the pain will stop, right? Thats really all he can think about at this point, how to make the pain go away. He finally gets his relief as he bleeds out onto his pillow. He's not waking back up.]

OOC: Run into him at any point in the day, but please specify the time frame as that will effect how he reacts. Housemates, you can find him before or after he passes, or not at all. Whatever you want.