<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">Since I used to play Will Graham in my recent roleplays, I will go with, what I am hoping is, a familiar face. Introducing an original character out of the blue in a new setting I believe is quite confusing and rather unexpected. I will just type up a starter here and see who or what picks it up. I will only respond to paragraph or semi-paragraph replies, forgive me for my arrogance, it is why I joined this forum and if I get denied then you won't have to see my posts anymore and if I get accepted then you will know what to expect of me and put me on your ignore list within your brains.<br/><br/>This RP will be kept PG-13. I promise.<br/><br/>...<br/><br/>[ Setting: Last few episodes into Season 1 ]<br/><br/><em>Thinking about sleeping, do not think about sleeping. How can one not think about sleeping when they can not sleep?</em> This was what Will Graham was circulating within his head at three in the morning, at least that is what his dully lit digital clock presented him. What he was seeing could have been an hallucination from the insomnia he was going through. He wanted to sleep, but ever since he had gotten back into the field, it was the only thing he couldn't do. Basics of sleeping. If there was a "Dummy's Guide to Sleeping for Insomniacs" it might have helped him. <em>Might</em>. His therapist, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, had prescribed him pills to help him with his insomnia and hallucinations. <em>So why wasn't it working?</em><br/><br/>The shuffling of his dogs sleeping on the floor around the edge of his bed, crickets mockingly chirping at his insomnia as they have done many nights before, the way his house continued to settle as the night went by, all these sounds seemed like they were playing through a surround sound speaker. All placed right by his ear as his now hazy blue eyes stayed fixated upon that lying digital clock. He was sure that he hadn't broken eye contact with it, but with all the shaking his body was doing and the way his sheets and mattress began to soak in his own sweat was nothing but a distraction. It said three o'clock just now, so how is it that now the clock read six o'clock? Another hallucination? The bright sunlit outdoor lighting his home told him that this was most definitely reality. <em>He blinks</em>. He's at his car. "How." He is beginning to question his own sanity. <em>He blinks yet again</em>. He's now sitting on the comforts of Dr.Lecter's chair. As his eyes finally open to a clear view, he sees before him, his therapist. Dr. Hannibal Lecter.<br/><br/>"Dr. Lecter...how long have I been here?" The wooden clock on the table next to him ticks, and upon glancing over he sees that it is now twelve noon, where had the morning gone? "This...isn't working." Will whispered, wanting help, if anyone can help him it would Dr.Lecter. He had been at his side since the beginning of his field work, so he should know how to help him. Besides, he was a Doctor.<br/><br/>"Dr.Lecter, could you help me?"</span>