slightlyoffchilt: (Anguish.)
Dr. Frederick Chilton ([personal profile] slightlyoffchilt) wrote 2015-08-15 09:41 pm (UTC)

[Hiding the evidence. So Walt didn't care much about the local quality taking notice of his haranguing, but he wasn't too keen to let Chilton answer any inevitable imPort's queries about the now-healing facial bruises and cuts? Or did Walt not want to examine what he had done? What he was doing? Would he look upon his own works, and despair?]

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare -- I hadn't taken you to be a fan of poetry, Walt, and yet you sent that letter to me. That little postcard. Mocking me, even while you escaped and eluded my people.

[His people. Will Graham and Lucifer.]

I have already accepted the destruction you'll cause. I welcome it, in fact.

[It wasn't just the man that Chilton was after, but the myth as well. If he had to sacrifice the former for the latter, he could do that. He would have his book on the kingpin, he would collar that memory and leash that story.

But all of that relied on the flesh and bones of the subject first. And therein rested his tension.
]

Why won't you let us work together?

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