- IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

[slightlyoffchilt]

"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."

Comments

[slightlyoffchilt]

I know, I know. [Chilton has the bridge of his nose between his index and thumb, rubbing away at his sinuses. Will's excuse, his logic, is sound -- regardless of how Chilton personally feels about the context, Will remains rational.]

I won't deny that. You bring up fair points.

[Who better to understand Ken's point of view, without bias? Who else had Will's instinctual ability, his trained perception? Who else could possibility have empathized in the least destructive way?

If this Ken could ever become a problem, only Will Graham could defuse the situation.]

You aren't. A cannibal. I know. This is just -- it's distressful, Will. Given what we have both come from.

[infomodder]

[You aren't—he looks back up at that, hands relaxing without even thinking about, tension drained, transferred. He wasn't analyzing him, but it was very clear that Will's entire point of focus at this moment was Frederick Chilton and no one else. Perhaps an unnerving effect to have just the same. Had he brought coffee that was surely losing its heat by now? He couldn't know or care, so narrowed in on Chilton as he was. The center of the universe sat behind the desk right across from Will Graham.]

I meant what I said. [Quiet, stern, calm—Chilton could tell him down, bad, good, or say no as much as he wanted, talk about what was good or bad for him, healthy or unhealthy, fine. When that began to infringe on you don't know who and what you are? Enough. A gentle correction wasn't unfair, the dog simply standing his ground instead of barking or moving to bite.] You don't want to talk about it, either, do you? What he was feeding all of us.

[slightlyoffchilt]

Will... [Chilton shifted -- more accurately, he squirmed -- in his chair when Will Graham cut his own questions. Chilton didn't detect malice. This, he determined (reluctantly) was only another fair line of logic poised before Chilton. Offered to him. And given the source... It was almost sacred, this invitation.

He couldn't deny it. Chilton couldn't negate that sensation of obligation to Will. Oh, that emotional affinity wouldn't eradicate his habit of poking and prodding the other man; Will Graham would always remain a fascinating psychological study. Always. But Chilton had since evolved from that first face-to-face meeting, with Jack Crawford as their chaperone. Will Graham had been so useful, so crucial, in his survival in Baltimore, in Heropa. He was consistently Chilton's friend, when the psychiatrist so often lacked that empathetic foundation.]

No, I don't.

[It was a surrender whispered.]

But I was never as close to him as you were.

[infomodder]

[Will didn't leash his dogs unless he had absolutely had to. They ran the breadth his property without anything to hinder them, other than a whistle or called name if they went too far. None of them would be left out in the cold, or heat, or even a fair day if they didn't want to be. He'd always open the door as soon as he heard a scratch or bark, even if he'd just sat down to do something else entirely. This invitation is much the same. He thinks Chilton is aware of it. If not...he looks off, lifts his eyebrows, fingers stretching for a moment, giving off the appearance of someone about to say Well, if you ever change your mind—a failed business venture ended and an exchange of cards just in case. But he won't leave. Chilton's shutting down the conversation can't be returned by Will shutting him off from anything else, and he can't respond by something cutting about what sort of company Chilton may or may not be keeping, either. He doesn't want him to think that his guards are going to go up harsher and taller than ever until Chilton finally indulges the topic, certainly not. It isn't in Will's design to make Chilton squirm on a constant basis.]

As far as I know, everyone else is doing well enough. [For this place, he means, where close associates can go missing in the blink of an eye or disaster spreads like wildfire just as quickly, flares of tragedy and upset coming and going. His hands go back to rest over the same spot on his stomach again, fingers loosely tangled together.] I have a few people outside of April I talk to on a regular basis, the rest...more of an as needed or checking up basis, on both sides.

[That isn't quite a smile, but Will being Will, its easy to take that way. As needed to see how one of them is doing after a mishap, or if they'll be in town, or where Will wants his birthday cake delivered, or if one of them has seen someone lately, or if he has the time to talk about what to do in the wake of an elk head sending Abel Gideon off...normal friendship with a dog-fighting fishman who avoids socialization things.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

[He looked at those fingers. Stretched out, understanding, exposed. Vulnerable. It was a breed of fluidity that Chilton didn't wish to afford himself; a flexibility that went beyond adaptation. Chilton nodded in response, accepting the implication, tending to the social order of their interaction. Hannibal Lecter was still taboo, still terrifying. He couldn't speak about how vibrant that catastrophe was, not right yet.

Perhaps not for some time.]

Question -- concerning your social network. How do you plan to hunt them down, in the instance of an emergency? Or is that, too, an as needed consideration?

After all, you seem to enjoy playing your cards close.

[infomodder]

[A good question, and one that Will has thought of often enough. He doesn't pause, brow furrowed, because it's never crossed his mind. He pauses to take a moment and think through how to explain it in a way that won't smack as overly alarming. For Will's health, for those who might need hunting...like Chilton himself.]

Most of them can take care of themselves [better than Will ever could goes unspoken] so depends on what the emergency is. Contact others who know them, stop by their residence to see what state it's in, call my supervisor if there are tools that could be useful in finding them...same routine I'd go through if I was back home, if I could.

[He's giving away what emergency he feels he's best at, the sort of situation Will thinks is the one he should get involved with: loss, and attempted regain. What else is he supposed to hunt down if not someone gone missing, for any reason, malicious or benign? He gives it away with ease, too, under the impression that Chilton knows where his problems and effectiveness rest better than anyone else around. He even shrugs his good shoulder. Keeping it mild, but Chilton saw how he took to Abigail's room. Perhaps it's easier to imagine how thoroughly he'd be checking the state of a residence if the evidence on the surface wasn't palatable.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

At the very least, you have a plan of action. [Which was never really questioned, given Will's history, but Chilton could gracefully close on that observation. It was something of a treaty -- Will's reluctance to engage Chilton's concerns directly was an infinite resource. No doubt they could continue this tango all evening.]

Hopefully it will prevent our next session spent in grieving. But I won't demand we surprise the hour -- not this time around, anyway.

[Will was kind enough to address the worst case scenario, the crisis, and Chilton thought he agreed to those limited terms because an outright disaster was so much more honest than the slow crumble of existential agony. The psychiatrist smiled at Will -- a curve of lip that was friendly from the shadows, knowing and hungry.]

I'll be sure to continue to neglect inquiring if you would ever reconsider medication. We don't want the same script echoed, now do we?

[infomodder]

[He can't help but laugh at the idea of himself going on medication. (Script? Is that prescription pad humor? So much better than cannibalistic jokes.) Short, no bite, a quick glimpse at the person Will could have been if not for empathy and his specific career. Paired with his whole outfit, he looked like a normal guy plagued by no particular horror. Despite the fact that Chilton had seen him at what could be considered his worst, shackled and stripped of all rights the same as any other who had residence in his facility, he had no reservations about sharing this raw, honest moment. His version of normalcy, displaying emotions, ready to spend a quiet evening in so he could be up with the sun and get those glorious catches.]

No, we don't.

[Continue this tango all evening, all weekend, all week, constantly if need be, but Will isn't going to shy away from agreeing with him. The temptation to add that he'll be sure to let him know if anything changes is present, but ultimately ignored. He'd only ever ask after something he could get from another doctor, something for the physical, and that could be seen as insult. There is no need to insult, so Will simply reaches out to take back his coffee as he pushes himself to a stand using the chair for aid. Without prompting from Jack Crawford, without any eyes on them to make his gesture one stemming from social expectations, he even extends his hand for a parting shake. He has been trained to behave, to be a good boy as best he can when around others who could raise questions, but those variables are removed. Just two men who shake hands like semi-cultured individuals, a doctor and patient with a relationship that veers to friendly, not neutral or hostile. Of course, if Chilton doesn't play along, he won't hold it against him, but it feels right. (It feels normal. Chilton provides him with some normalcy. Will could never deny that.)]

See you next Saturday, Frederick. Let me know if that changes.

[The twofold, ever-present invitation. Yeah, sure, he'd like a head's up if his appointments have to change, of course he would. But he's learned more from Hannibal than he has from Jack on how to prove himself reliable, and that's with some sense of subtlety. Let him know if he's required to do anything before their next session, and he'll come running like someone lit a fire up under his ass. Tell him who to bark at, because even though the whole thing with Walter seemed fishy and almost a waste...it's not unwelcome, in Will's little world, to go on errands for those he knew in his own.]