slightlyoffchilt | - IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

[Would Chilton be surprised to see Abduxel affected by this story? The demon has sympathy, and his widened eyes show it.]

That's disgusting.

Was he caught?

[He looks away a moment, then back at Chilton. He seems a touch uncomfortable, maybe feeling that there's some comparison being drawn here with regards to how he crosses Chilton's boundaries (frequently, and on purpose).]

When I "joke" about exploiting you - when I come onto you - I do hope you're aware that you can stop me with a word.

He was shot. [He spoke that slowly, his eyes voracious for Abduxel's expression. Curious, curious -- this reaction was a surprise. Chilton had yet to measure the demon's capacity for empathy, but he wouldn't have anticipated such investment.] Will Graham had shot him. I recovered, obviously.

[Though it took the better half of a year, and Chilton couldn't use the restroom properly for most of that. He lost a kidney and kept the incision scar.]

You're highly aware of power dynamics. [An observation.] You're sensitive to them. Is that something you understood to this degree before or after your demonic transformation?

[He acknowledges the conclusion of the story silently. Chilton hadn't directly replied to his final statement, but he took the non-answer as implicit agreement. The question makes him look away to think a moment, like he isn't quite sure he remembers.

With the return of a faint smirk,] In bed? Well, yes. I understood it quite well.

But as for the rest of it, ah, I had a lot of learning to do. Corrective torture is huge in Hell, I'll have you know.

[For a moment, a split second, Chilton looked alarmed. "Corrective torture is huge in Hell" -- something innate and quieted from the base of his spine found sound reason to twitch at that alarming statement. From a metaphysical perspective, Chilton didn't consider himself a likely candidate for not Hell. Legally, he had concerns. Spiritually, he had concerns. And personally, he feared being subjected to any breed of asylum, no matter how mystical.

So for that moment, he was alarmed. And then he beckoned his Baltimore logic.]

Hell doesn't exist in my world. Or rather, it does, but we simply call it daily reality. [More a statement than an attempt at a joke.] Is that a problem for you, here? Punitive correction? Luce -- He seems somewhat hands-off.

Do you really know that, Doctor? When I traded my soul away, I didn't think there was a Hell, either. Isn't that funny? Look how it all turned out.

[He gestures, spreading his hands. He really does seem to find it funny, in a rueful sort of way.

As for Lucifer, he hesitates a moment. Lucifer burned him with holy weaponry, but it didn't really fall under the criteria of the question; it wasn't a punishment, it was an experiment. He decides it isn't relevant.]

It hasn't been a problem. But then again, it was never by His hand directly. There's a hierarchy.

Who did you trade your soul away to, if you hadn't considered there to be a Hell in your universe?

[It was a question burnt of curiosity, and perhaps a little skepticism. Chilton knew his personal devil: Hannibal Lecter. He knew that Hannibal had orchestrated something horrific for him, and it was waiting back home like the tick of an eternal clock. He knew this because Freddie Lounds had so glibly informed him of that much. Hannibal created Hell for his victims, and the length of that agony was determined by what degree of humanity he would deem you.]

I'll side with our fiery, mutual acquaintance on this one issue: I find that humanity is the greater evil. We even have hierarchies of our own. [A beat.] Though perhaps it would be rude of me to inquire where you stood upon yours.

It was a ritual. I didn't know anyone was listening.

[He says it reluctantly; he's told others, here, but saying it to Chilton feels especially exposing.

He gives Chilton a little look at that question-not-question.]

Just ask it, if you're going to ask. The answer is not at the top, not at the bottom. I've been a demon only ninety years. [To clarify,] That's very young.

[He looks at his fingers idly, like he's distracted. Airily,] Anyway, I think I've held up my end of the deal, Dr. Chilton.

Edited (html fail) 2015-06-29 02:06 (UTC)

Neither top nor bottom. Did you switch?

[That former fluster aside -- which, quite honestly, Chilton had not anticipated and thus ought to be exempted just once for sake of retort -- the psychiatrist wasn't about to withhold innuendo altogether. Not when he finally felt confident about his leverage with Abduxel.]

You did, indeed. Well done. And I assure you, as for my end -- I'm working on mitigating your situation with Walt.

[The innuendo gets a small laugh from him, the sly spark coming back into his eye a little.] Yes, in fact I did.

Not to sound unappreciative, but I do recall trading you information about you-know-who for a kiss, which - if I'm not mistaken - has yet to be fulfilled.

[Sorry Chilters, you got him on the topic. As much as he'd asserted he wasn't some salivating dog, he really is easily distracted.]

Edited 2015-06-29 04:30 (UTC)

[Chilton smirked, tucking in his chin in a knowing sort of way. He very nearly tsked -- but, thankfully, withheld. Perhaps that would have been too much a demonstration.]

Abduxel, you mustn't sell yourself short. You've already illuminated that you aren't quite as interested in such engagements as you pretend to be. I imagine you enjoy the provocation -- which, admittedly, I did often react to. Well done.

But you have tipped your hand, and I would rather bargain with something you can use. Once Walter stumbles out of his hissyfit, he'll be more amenable. Perhaps you'll even get your old job back.

Edited 2015-06-29 04:34 (UTC)

[He raises his eyebrows, not expecting a reaction like this; it takes him a moment to even think of what Chilton is referring to.]

A deal is a deal, Doctor. Our tangles with Walter White are separate and new. You've got to uphold your end of our prior engagements, otherwise what kind of man would you be? What would that mean for deals going forward between us?

Come give it a try, and you'll see exactly how much I mean it.

You've made yourself clear. And I rescinded the offer, remember? [Different offer, same vein.] I'm not about to flatter myself. [Chilton straightened his spine, smirking in his self-congratulatory manner.] See? I was indeed listening.

["I am an excellent psychiatrist," was the implied following, though unspoken, sentence.]

We ought to get you out of the bribery habit anyway. I'm your psychiatrist, not your auctioneer.

[He supposed that kiss deal was never properly finalized. They did leave off "in negotiation" because he kept insisting on Raina being there. Sorry, Chilton, he just doesn't trust her. He sighs with a closed-mouth smile, and has a tone of repentance.]

I'm a victim of fine print, it seems, Dr. Chilton. Anyway, I didn't mean that; I was only upset with you, and wrongly, at that. I can be a little vindictive - maybe it's a demon thing.

On that note, I think my bribery habit runs too deep to be corrected. I deal in deals. I like to trade. It suits me, and it benefits everyone. If there's no offers on the table right now, maybe we ought to each make new ones.

Hm.

[Chilton paused for the moment, reevaluating his profile of Matthew -- at least, in this regard. He had taken the demon at his word, and thus concluded that Abduxel's behavior was more about reaction than results.]

As long as it isn't a modest proposal. [Because, Swiftian humor or no, Chilton had suffered quite enough of cannibalism.] I'm listening.

[He doesn't really think he was wrongly upset with Chilton, for the record, but that's not something he'll be honest about now, when he's fairly sure his ass is going to be doused in holy water any time soon and Chilton is the only one moving pieces in his favour.

Anyway, "a little vindictive" is an understatement by normal standards, but maybe worded just strongly enough for someone coming from Chilton's perspective. After all, he'd never kill and eat his enemies. He's more likely to vandalize their furniture or share their secrets.

The literary reference goes over his head; he was never much of a scholar, and the casual use of a phrase like that is a little too high-brow for the sorts of folks he associated with in life. And in Hell, for that matter.]

I don't think either of us here are terribly modest.

[He adjusts his posture, leaning back casually. He tilts his head a little to glance down Chilton's frame, to spy if his legs are still crossed. He hadn't really thought this far ahead; Chilton had largely been leading their tango today, besides when The Innuendo had Abduxel seize center stage, but now here he was being put in lead again. But he rolls with it comfortably.]

You know what I want. [He'll leave the scope of that to Chilton's imagination.] I've yet to entirely figure out what you want. As you know, I've got some skill when it comes to uncovering secrets. I could offer services. In fact, Raina and I discussed the potential of me helping secure volunteers for her research, but we didn't make a deal in any official capacity. It could be a gift to her.

How would you like to work for me? Formally?

[He thought that was a fair turn of events -- after all, Crane had abused the demon, and Walt had abandoned him. Why shouldn't Chilton have a turn? He calculated that he would be at least a fairer employer; he wasn't prone to emotional hurricanes, and nor was he sadistic for the sake of inflicting experiments upon any old subject. Chilton was far more selective in his abuse -- and as long as Abduxel followed through, Chilton didn't require to exploit the demon to any non-consensual extent.]

Since you're out of the job, and I already gifted Raina with Dorian. [He inclined his head, acknowledging the offering.] See? I'm already far more transparent with you than your former contacts had been.

[And that way Abduxel had an open-ended use; Chilton wouldn't have to incur the details of his schemes immediately.]

[He raises an eyebrow at that, not bothering to hide his surprise. But it's a smiling sort of surprise.

He thinks briefly of working for Walter White; he finds Walter's brand of difficult personality to actually be much safer than Chilton's, easier to play with. Easier to build trust - just talk about your family a little, do small friendly gestures. He's more haphazard, which also means Abduxel can just dance a step ahead of the whirlwind. But Chilton is calculated, and Abduxel wonders if Chilton calculates better than he does.

This was Chilton's answer about what he wants...]

You want to be in charge, then.

[He laughs a little.]

I might like that.

I can't help but be suspicious that you orchestrated this, but even if you have, I suppose that deserves a reward in itself, doesn't it?

Alright. The pieces are in position. What does me working for you look like? Regular pay, tasks that call for the skills I've used on you? That kiss I'm waiting for?

Regular pay, yes, to include what health benefits and vacation time I can afford you. Your official job description would be "administrative assistant" -- I'm the administrator. You'd be my assistant.

[Abduxel was not wrong about Chilton's thirst to be in charge.]

I think you would most assist me in patient security -- I don't want anyone to ever do what you've done to my files, my protected information. And who better to thief-proof a room than a burglar? So to speak. Though it won't be simply wiring my office and basement.

[Chilton smiled, his eyes keeping to the demon's.]

I also want a spy on my most extraordinary patient projects. If you're inclined to stable employment -- and whatever other intimate benefits -- that would be the baseline required.

[The description of burglar-proofing Chilton's information makes his eyes crease with an unvocalized laugh. But his gaze is unwavering, interested, intent. He raises his hands in a sort of casual surrender. Playing on the language of moving pieces,]

Checkmate. You've got me. I would be happy to provide these things. And, as you know, I'm quite good.

[His eyes are greedy to see how Chilton would react to this behaviour which was, compared to his usual attitude, a move much more submissive.]

I have no doubt about your quality.

[Oh, he was all glowing compliments now. Abduxel had agreed to the offer, and Chilton would soon conjure up a contractual agreement serving both their needs. He wondered, idly, if the demon might need to sign in blood. If not for mystical reasons, then perhaps for atmospheric couture.]

We'll reconvene, then, in a couple of days. Work out your contract. Establish your hours.

[It seemed so mundane, it was funny. A demon, working for him -- well, Chilton had hired worse, hadn't he?]

It will be a pleasure.

- IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

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