slightlyoffchilt | - IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

To parallel such issues would imply a similar circumstance that had born them both. Is your disdain for personal boundaries and protocol triggered from some sort of emotional trauma? And --

What are you doing. Sit down. This isn't an Easter egg hunt.

It might be. I don't know what you do in your personal space, Fred. It's unfair. You were in my house.

[The peering into corners intensifies. Pulling out some books half-way, like he may have a Young Frankenstein-esque hidden dungeon chamber just a book spine away.]

So. What's the deal?

Edited 2015-06-30 00:41 (UTC)

The evaluation should be simple. [He said, while eying her transit with ever increasing suspicion.] The Major General is only interested in results, after all.

So why don't we begin with the basics?

[Chilton withdrew a golden pen, priming it over a legal pad.]

Describe in three adjectives your relationship with your husband.

Oh my god.

[She laughs. Actually stops her book spine pulling and laughs- and when she turns back to look at him she's still smiling- no. Grinning. Unusual enough to maybe be concerning, especially when the raccoons aren't around.]

Look- eye for an eye stuff, okay? Because of my horrible trust issues. Why do you wanna know?

Because your relationships are indicative of your emotional stability and ability to work coherently with other people.

[Pulled that answer right out of his ass, but it was nevertheless a sound argument.]

We could go deeper than adjectives, if you'd like?

You two- I don't really get you two.

[She is choosing to just pick this conversation up and move it ten spaces to the left. Bear with her. But he's got her attention enough that she's finally moving to sit in the therapy chair instead of touching all the things, so that's something, right?]

I mean. You're, like, a survivor network. Sure. Us- [She pauses to point between here and him] we're messed up family. That's okay. I like that. I married into it. But...

But...you've got to go and out gross each other. Or something. And put Abby in the middle and- and you should ask about my kids, Fred. Way more powerful in the whole 'why I want to help the world' thing. You're supposed to be better and whatever.

[He listened, as she spoke. He listened, without interruption, watching her with careful detail. Only after she had finished -- after she had sat in the chair, after April had finished with whatever, did Chilton then open his mouth to speak.]

Did he send you? [A crisp, cutting question.] Is RISE only a guise, did Will send you thinking my guard would be lowered?

[Because it had been.]

This suggests the beginnings of an intervention, April.

[If there are pillows on the chair- any kind, back, butt, arm, whatever- they are getting thrown at him. If not, she is stripping off the loose knit purple cardigan off her own shoulders to throw at him. Because while trolling was fun, the honor of her husband- her real, flesh and blood one- was way more important. So violence was clearly the answer.]

Wow. I'm sorry. I didn't know Baltimore was code for 'head so far up my own ass I smell last week's Chinese take out.' Seriously? You think Will sent me?

Edited 2015-06-30 03:50 (UTC)

I don't believe that Will has no interest in your presence here. His degree of culpability is yet to be determined.

[He said, using one of his icier vocal inflections.]

And it isn't as if you've answered the question.

Did I say no interest? Ask the question you mean, and maybe I'll answer it directly. Or we'll both just keep...reading between the lines, I guess.

[Baltimore. Why did these people want to talk to each other? It should be legally declared a health hazard for all around them.]

[Fine. Fine! Chilton leveled a glare, communicating this degree of fine.]

In percentages, how much of your immediate presence here is on behalf of Will Graham?

[And of course, he would ask in terms of her old enemy math. Well played. Jerk.

But she falls back into the chair, legs coming up so she can sit cross-legged (shoes on the cushion and all). Pure rudeness- one of the many reasons Will had refused to be in public with April when Hannibal was around.]

Half, ish. Indirectly. He's not really thrilled I wanted to come. Or knew I was going to before I talked to RISE chick.

[Better to be a mathematician than a methmatician LIKE WALTER WHITE.]

You appear to be otherwise communicative with Will. Is there a reason as to why you'd procrastinate informing your husband about this?

[No comment on her body language.]

Because I didn't know I was going to until she posted.

[You're giving her way too much credit in thinking these through. She cannot emphasize how little thought she has given this.]

That you get to pick who's sane enough to protect us from ourselves was a twist post ending.

Why? I'm the most qualified. [He took offense to that nearly immediately.] Or would you prefer Crane terrorizing unwitting RISE candidates?

Yeah. Shades of terrorizing is just the feeling I wanted for the group.

[Because nothing about that sentence made it sound like Fred wouldn't be doing the terrorizing instead. She makes a small, dismissive gesture]

Your kind shouldn't have anything to do with it. But. It forced you in the room so...go horrible choices made by people not me.

You're fairly blasé about a known torturer. Or has Will not... Told you? [Chilton arched an eyebrow, his hostility muted.] Perhaps your communication is more a one-way street?

Psych-wizard, what do you think is wrong with me, that I'd, for like one second, trust you more than the guy I'm going to be having semi-passive aggressive sex with in an hour?

[Her head rolls back so she's looking at the ceiling instead of anything else- Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. Even when they boys were on the outs it was all about trying to wiggle in between the sheets. Of trust. Or whatever.

Not that she wasn't going to check in. This whole conversation was going to get detailed at home. But Crane was from Gotham. And liked libraries. If one of Fred's friends (not Will, it didn't enter her mind it could have been Will) hadn't known what those facts meant and got themselves in trouble...well. This world was filled with evil people. She stayed on the side of angels and all that in the work place. That was the most she could give to that fact. Anyone not willing to joke about murderers here would probably end up spending all day crying. And then how would anyone have time to sass Lucifer on the network? ]

But, look. I didn't- I came here, right? So can we talk for five minutes without you trying to break us up? I will give you a prize. Or something.

I'm not trying to cause a schism, April, I'm only asking a question.

[Which wasn't quite honestly phrased, as Chilton definitely understood how loaded that question was. But he was the psychiatrist of this psych evaluation, he was the one with the pen and the legal pad. That afforded him something of a pedestal.]

Would you prefer me to ask how well you work in groups? What role do you often play when engaged in communal activity? How do you react to extreme emotional stress -- how resilient are you against horror?

[There is a moment of silence as she lets that list sink in. She's still looking at the ceiling, so he may not catch her full look of distaste at the very idea. Was this what psych evals were?

Well. If those are the options.]

How about...why are you hiding stuff from Abby?

I'm... Not? I've already informed her in full.

[Which was true, the last time she had contacted him, Chilton warned her about those scares, bro. But -- true to canon -- no one was going see how right Chilton was until too late.

And as he would be with Alana Bloom, there was a sliver of haughty smugness about his predicted outcome.]

Once Will had betrayed me, I thought the proverbial washing of hands was necessary.

Betrayed.

[That was a strong word. And April's still trying to feel this whole thing out. As much as she needs to make sure Baltimore doesn't wander in and self-destruct in her house, anyway. But betrayed. Really.]

You guys don't wash your hands of each other. Ever. The family thing wasn't really a joke.

[It was a strong word, and undoubtedly melodramatic -- but Chilton believed it. His argument was thus: Will Graham had chosen to engage Crane despite the torture Crane inflicted upon Chilton, despite their mutual awareness of Will's proclivity towards psychopathic men. While it was true that Crane was no where near the league of Hannibal Lecter, Chilton believed he saw a patterned sequence unfolding. Even if Will addressed Crane with contempt and disdain, he would engage. He would empathize.

A prophesied betrayal as much as it was rhetoric.]

It's the only way to truly come clean.

[Family. It was a concept Chilton knew more abstractly, despite Will and April's generosity.]

[She shakes her head and sits up in the chair again at last, elbows braced against her knees and chin cupped in her hands.]

Clean? Leave the sarcasm to this side of the room. It looks better on me.

First of all: no, it does not. Secondly, I'm quite sincere.

[Even though his protests of sincerity came second. Well, everything looked good on April, how was THAT fair??]

You don't like what you're hearing. That I'm not the villain in this. I did what I needed to do, what was asked of me.

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