slightlyoffchilt | - IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

[He's right - she has found someone to manipulate, as much as she wants to believe she's doing this out of the want to find love. I want to be loved, she told Isabelle, once upon a time. But Christine doesn't know what love is like. ~~foreigner plays in the background~~ All she knows s power.]

You're wrong. [Ohh, so wrong. She genuinely believes that, too.] You don't know me at all, Frederick. I'm not like one of your little patients. I'm not through with you. Believe me. You don't get to just close the door on me, you got that?

[Not quite a threat. Except it is.]

I have more power than you could possibly imagine.

You're acting a bit like one of my little patients right now.

[He speaks it gently, as if she were, crystallized in this moment, in a straitjacket pending sedative. It's one of his professional voices.]

And I'm going to cite, specifically, a tendency towards delusion. You have no idea what kind of power I can imagine -- the power that I've witnessed. It isn't all fun and interpersonal manipulation. It isn't the kind that's been domesticated.

I know what kind of power you've witnessed. I know it's nothing like mine - you wouldn't be underestimating me like this if you knew. You wouldn't be insulting me if you knew just what kind of consequences it's going to have on you. On your precious career that you prize so much.

[... This disease has turned her into one of those monologue villains. Oh dear.]

Remember what you told me, Frederick, when we saw the world end together? The things you told me - you don't just say them to anyone. You talked to me like I was the only person you were hoping to see alive. You tell me you must have more of me, then you dump me?

You don't just get over that. You don't just cut me off like I didn't matter.

[To him. This is all him.]

Edited 2014-02-26 00:58 (UTC)

With all due respect, Christine -- [He sneers the word.] You don't know. You don't know me, you don't know the world I've come from, and you certainly don't understand the formidable atrocities I've known. That kind of power. [His Chesapeake Ripper, continually a point of fascination.] And I'm relieved that you hadn't.

[Small pittance, really, as Chilton would be sort of a ruder dickier dick than he already was if he wanted Christine to live in a world where she could have silicon injected all over her body and her hands sewed to her face and left to rot from the inside out in a silo of forty other naked dying people.

Like a DEEPLY DICKIER DICK. Instead of just a dick who defines power in this sick, monstrous way.]

That was a traumatic moment, Christine, the end of the world. A horrifying experience. [A beat.] Perspective is the thaw after the shock -- look, you won't give me what I want. You'd never surrender whatever's burning within that mind of yours.

[So provocation is a solution, though her reaction like this was remarkable. That's how Chilton works: when denied access to a patient, when a patient won't open up to him, he finds alternatives. He bugs their rooms, his hospital, so he may eavesdrop on everything. He abuses whatever power he might have.

But unlike say, Will Graham, Christine can fight back.]

You're a liar, Frederick. [A pause. Her hand moves, a gesture in which she presses her finger against her chest.] I know liars. I've played this game before. And I never lost. I never - lose.

[Which is a lie in itself. Isabelle trumped her, once and again, but then Christine always fought back. Christine upped the stakes until they turned into murder.]

You're going to give me what I want.

If I'm a liar, Christine, then I'm in good company. [He shoots it back casually, tauntingly -- his eyes, though obscured by the nature of this medium, dilate. This is what he likes.]

But what is it that you want? Closure? Surely not -- no, you aren't the type for emotional healing. You want a conquest.

[For once, she's willing to concede him a point. Maybe that's not all bad. Frederick has shown her that he isn't quite as simple-minded as she once thought. Which is a shame - she enjoyed manipulating him. She doesn't quite enjoy watching him want to manipulate him right back. That's a game reserved for other people in her list.]

That's right. [a pause - it's that impulse to speak her mind, regardless of how that comes off, that forces the rest of her words.] I own you.

Wait -- what?

[This is not something that Frederick Chilton had to wrestle with before; perhaps because of his privileged upbringing, because of the factors in his life that enabled him to secure the label of psychiatrist, he never once had to fight for his own autonomy. He never had to clash swords in a battle of iron wills for his own sake.

It had always been him seeking to conquer the other. Especially those he considered his patients.]

You can't just say that to people! [Although, she had. He couldn't deny that she had.] You're a woman of countless toys, let us consider the implications of claiming this one.

[Finally, a dent in that infuriating pride of his. Christine's expression seems to mock him accordingly, feigning innocence so contradictory it's practically a parody in itself.]

I can say whatever I want, Frederick. And I can do whatever I want. You should know that by now.

[If not, well-] I'd be happy to help you.

It's unnecessary.

[He grits his teeth as he says it; the phrase can be applicable to many concepts, and he doesn't clarify which one (or ones) he intends.]

How you're acting, what you're saying -- you wouldn't expose such opinions if you weren't committed to them. And what does that reveal, Christine? What does that reveal about you?

[His gritting softens, exfoliated by the curiosity and need to see this side of her.]

It's more than mere control games, what's bubbling beneath your pretty face.

[She just smiles and shakes her head lazily, rolling her eyes. It's like chastising a child.]

Still trying to analyze me. I'm not here for that.

[She's made herself clear, somewhat. It's all about control, and it's about showing others it's in her hands, no matter how much they try to pry it from them.]

You'll get your answers soon enough. And when you do - [Her voice softens, dangerously:] You'll find that it's too late.

[The feed clicks off abruptly.]

[The weekend is upon him, and having the day-off at his job as an intern, plus being completely and utterly caught up with all of his classwork (he probably should have spaced it out better, in retrospect), Light still has a certain conversation lingering in his mind.

And since he's such a proponent against being idle and instead taking initiative, he figures he may as well reach out and see, for a lack of a better term, what the deal is with this guy. And so, a likely unexpected voice call follows:]

Doctor Chilton? My name is Light Yagami. I'd like to speak with you for a moment, if you have the time.

[There is a pause, before Chilton responds -- the name curls familiar fingers in his memory, and he wagers that this individual is imPort, rather than native.

And that's what he prefers, in terms of professional conversations.]

Light, hello. I certainly have a moment to spare -- what might I do for you?

[The smile on his lips was careful, lest it be heard too clearly in his voice.]

[Prefacing his real reason for calling is a tricky matter, and would require a certain degree of formal propriety before he could truly get to the heart of it. He could manage that much, at least, if he felt so inclined -- but for now, Light takes the direct route, starting off with a vague but telling question.]

Forgive my bluntness, but what are your intentions in Heropa?

I -- what?

[He's clearly taken aback -- Chilton's used to little psychological games, sleights and diversions. A mindscape of chess pieces.]

I'm a psychiatrist. [A beat follows. He recognizes that it won't be answer enough, that it sounds like he's dodging.]

I hope to enact my duties as such, treating the mentally disordered.

[Light's pretty good at psychological sleights and diversions (more so than he even realizes himself, right now), but choosing to utilize them at the right time is key for him. Right now he's simply putting his feelers out, to get a general sense of this man.]

To those who openly come to you for help, correct? Both imPort and the locals here?

[His tone remains polite and professional, though his questions do seem to be leading to one particular destination.]

Hey Doc. I have a question for you. If someone says to not do something because it could possibly kill you, and you still feel like doing it, is that a big problem or something that can be handwaved?

The imPorts I opened an invitation for -- my government-given career is something, ah, more stationary. [He doesn't like the kinds of patients he's treating, at the drug rehabilitation center. None of them are the kinds of psychopaths he needs, to write important papers on!]

But yes, I treat both. It's a different sort of work, between the two, given that our populace has to come to terms with being torn from their natural universe, their original environment.

Ah.

[He recognizes that voice.]

The gravity of lethal situations isn't one to be undermined -- however, I think the concern would rest in this hypothetical individual's motivation for feeling like doing something that might kill them.

[A beat...]

Shall we flesh out the context?

[He takes the time to listen to the whole of that before responding. He isn't quite sure if that last statement is meant to be an implication or not.]

And do you think those who have been brought here -- us imPorts, I mean -- are more susceptible to needing psychiatric treatment due to the abrupt change in environment?

I think so, yes. While the environment we were stolen into seems genial enough, we all leave our friends and families behind. Some of us have never seen a world like this before, so foreign is out own. Quite obviously, some individuals will adapt better than others -- [A pause. But that may be only a minority.

And can we take that risk?

That's a pretty noble response, Doctor. All-in-all, I can see how your role in this particular society would be helpful for many.

[But then... Well. Here it comes.] That being said, you wouldn't impose your methods on those who were uncomfortable hearing or experiencing them, would you?

My methodology adheres to my education -- the kinds of techniques and ideas I was taught by a rigorous regime. The title of doctor is not so easily achieved. [He lets that sit, stepping around the question.]

Ah, if I may? Are you scouting me for yourself, or for someone else?

[Reckons Chilton is just loving this. Oh well.]

Riiight. I think it's more a disagreement, you know? I don't think it'll kill me, but someone else does. And they're wrong. Then again other people have said the same thing as the first person so.

I still want to. That's not suicidal though.

Let's frame it this way: if you thought there was a chance said action might kill you, a sincere and likely chance, would you still feel the same way about undergoing it?

[Chilton has since picked up his pineApple tablet, and started writing down SUBJECT 23: POTENTIALLY DELUSIONAL.]

- IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

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WHERE WAS THE NOTIF FOR THIS?? aaaahhh noooooo

dAMMIT DW

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voice; i realize this is very random I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND??

voice; I don't mind at all! I'M EXCITED FOR THIS!

voice; OH GOOD me too

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