slightlyoffchilt | - IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

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ic contact

- IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

"Hello.

You've reached the direct line of Doctor Frederick Chilton. As I am not available at the moment, you might assume I'm quite busy with something pressing. State your name and business, and I will return your call."

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That -- That isn't funny! [The irony boils beneath his skin.] I'm -- when I'm out of that medical hospital -- they're going to put me in my own!

[It's a terrifying prospect, for reasons that Chilton had constructed all by himself. This was his cage that he built, never intending his own flesh burdened.]

I can't go there, Danger, I cannot go there!

As you stated yourself, there is no altering what will happen in your universe once you return.
I have offered to protect you while you are here.
That is the extent of my power.

He's going to get away with it. [It's a whimper at this point, a whine -- the curl of an existential crisis forced before uncompromising destiny.] He's going to get away with hurting my reputation.

[The degradation, the humiliation. The coil of loathing. The rub of a starched, orange jumpsuit against his slender legs. The weightlessness of ringless fingers.

The view of mold speckling dark, damp tiled walls.]

He isn't going to touch me. He won't lay a finger on me -- he won't need to, for this destruction.

If a tarnished reputation is the worst of what Hannibal Lecter does to you, then perhaps you are less in need of my protection than I initially assumed.

[ Is she being cold, or is it just that mechanical quality in her voice? ]

But my work is all I have.

[Quiet, struck admittance.]

... Or rather, it is, back home.

You have your life.
That is more than others can say.

Do you think I'll have it for long? When I'm committed to my own asylum? Accidents happen often with prejudice.

What would you have me do, Doctor?
Your destiny is out of my hands.

I don't want you to -- hold this against me, while I'm here. [Beat.] I don't know what he's planning with me in Heropa, and I -- I require your help.

[Beat.]

What do you want me to do, to make it up to you?

[ She doesn't answer immediately, letting his plea for help hang in the air between them untouched as a way of making a point.

Finally, her terms: ]

I want your submission.

[He holds his breath for the moment, appreciating the controlled way she said that.]

For how long?

Preferably always.
But as that is an entirely unrealistic expectation, I will settle for tonight.

And this will make up for my -- for what you see as my transgressions? One night submitting to you. [A beat.] All right.

How do you want to do this?

I would hate to spoil the surprise for you, Doctor.
After all, knowledge is power.

I assume you recall my address.
I suggest you steel yourself to exercise some self-restraint.
It would displease me if you were to disturb Dr. Gideon's sleep.

Are you advising that I acquire a gag?

Are you implying that you do not believe you can stay quiet?

I'm anticipating that you'll be looking for reasons to punish me. Better to take the precaution.

As you wish.
Whatever helps you feel secure, Doctor.

You do seem to enjoy insisting that I am insecure, and require security. I wonder -- is that simply your way of establishing yourself as a necessity? A need? Who is, after all, more secure than yourself?

Perhaps it would serve you well to answer those questions for yourself.
Especially now that Hannibal Lecter has reappeared.
Do you need me, Doctor?

[Quietly:]

Do you want me to say yes?

I want you to admit the truth.

I can't say if I need you, Danger, that's presumptuous.

But I want you.

[ In a soft, but not gentle way: ]

That much has become obvious.

And what does the obvious make you feel?

- IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

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