Dr. Frederick Chilton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
slightlyoffchilt) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2017-06-11 06:46 pm
slightlyoffchilt) wrote in maskormenacelogs2017-06-11 06:46 pm
take up my message from the veins --
WHO: Frederick Chilton & various imPorts! Possibly you!!
WHERE: Maurtia Falls mostly, and a single De Chima.
WHEN: Throughout June.
WHAT: Therapy & conflict!
WARNINGS: Psychic driving techniques as per the Kavinsky inpatient thread.
01 MAURTIA FALLS PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL FOR ABNORMAL CONDITIONS - CHILTON'S OFFICE, FOR OUTPATIENT APPOINTMENTS AND ANY CONFERENCES
Bela Talbot. Klarion Bleak. Elena Fisher. Newer patients, some willing and some... Mandated. But Chilton had an open office for all, to include older patients and relapsed patients, and he was more than willing to treat his fellow imPorts. Bela and Elena both merited careful, kind care -- the sort that Chilton built his professional reputation upon. Klarion would be a fine candidate for a Project, much like Kavinsky was, but his powers were truly horrifying. Whatever sociopathic tendencies the young man had, they needed to be redirected in the most healthy way possible.
Chilton sat in his high-backed leather chair, contemplating his next session. His office, painted in a light blue, maintained a heavier resonance with its gold and black accents. A decanter filled with finely aged whiskey sat behind him, nestled within his fully stocked bookshelf. Greco-Roman paintings and busts and trinkets littered his office, and gold pens glinted from his desk. Two seating arrangements sat before his, parallel to each other: one soft, light blue sedan and one hard, uncomfortable wooden chair.
He gave all his patients the same choice.
02 MAURTIA FALLS PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL FOR ABNORMAL CONDITIONS - STAFF AREAS, OPEN TO ALL BREEDS OF MINGLING INCLUDING STAFF INTERACTIONS
The boon of William Walker's recompense donation, which Chilton had summarily demanded after Walker's battle with Jack had destroyed Rincewind's office, was excessive and intended for excess. The hospital's exterior was afforded a facade change, a later Georgian design, and the basement imPort Containment Centers had been updated with three power nullifiers, one for each center, officially leased from the US Federal government. These prisons ensure that once an imPort is locked within the nearly 200 sq foot reinforced glass cylinder holding, they will not be able to escape. The main lobby, which typically contained some incarnation of Reggie Mantle, was accessible to all -- staff, patients, or otherwise. The staff lounge continued to maintain a modernize, even pompous, self-important sleekness, and brimmed with the necessities required for staff consumption. All vending machines had since been removed, thanks to the Rincewind Incident. Chilton had made the cause of this consequences very clear.
Each office associated with a staff member is decorated in accordance to the staff member's taste. While Chilton won't control the design, he'll certainly watch it -- every room in this hospital is recorded. Even the ones that aren't legally supposed to be recorded.
Staff are free to bring visitors during the day, but they must be armed with a Visitor's Pass.
When he does not hold meetings in his own office, which is indeed rather rare, Chilton will host them in a welcoming reception room on the first floor.
03 MAURTIA FALLS PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL FOR ABNORMAL CONDITIONS - INPATIENT WING, CLOSED TO KAVINSKY
"Now, Kavinsky," he said, his gaze determinedly fixed on the young man before him. "Are you ready to have a little conversation?"
They were on the second floor, the inpatient wing. The lights above glowed impossible bright, ethereally white. Everything was white on the inpatient wing, to include the hallways, with the rare pop of color amplified for shock value. Distorting, dissociating, stark and brutal. Kavinsky's own room was one of many lined along, with bullet-proof plexiglass guarding his enclosure as it fit towards the hallway. Inside his apartment, as Chilton called it, was a high-tech monitoring bed, a lamp, and a table -- all bolted to the ground. The chairs that they sat in were not attached to the floor, but they also were not allowed to remain in the room while Chilton was gone.
He had security remove them after the session.
"I brought you something," he said, softly, his gaze never breaking. From his double-breasted suit he pulled out a small book. A poetry book. Howl, Allan Ginsberg.
04 THE EAR WYRM, VINYL RECORD STORE, MAURTIA FALLS
He scoured for a sound that Raina would like. The gift he sought didn't come with a purpose, this was for no anniversary nor special occasion. There was a shadow soaking his subconscious, a primal fear reverberating into his behavior. This was because of Persephone, this was because of her song. She had sung especially to him, she had composed for him a song of betrayal and isolation and disdain, and while he knew that logically his loved ones wouldn't throw him into the trash, Chilton couldn't quite shake that terror. There was a tremor in his soul, because of Persephone.
So here he was, at The Ear Wyrm, looking for an unannounced present for Raina. To delay the thought of her leaving him.
05 LOUNGE BAR, THE HOTEL CASTILE, MAURTIA FALLS
Didn't a Sally once work here? He was fairly certain, reasoning that he had a memory of a sharp-edged woman named Sally once haunting James Patrick March's hotel. Or was that a fabrication, a deterioration in the mind? Chilton stared into his single malt scotch, repressing a shudder. Last month had been something of a collapse for him, he had suffered a psychosis that he had never before experienced: hallucination. Gore dripping from the ceiling onto the carpet, shadows turning into demons. In this hotel, beneath March's care, he had hallucinated more than once. Chilton hadn't discussed it, of course, he didn't want anyone to think he might be crazy. He wouldn't even associate the episodes with this hotel, this environment, if only to indulge the inexplicably darkness pulling at his marrow, sitting him here at this bar.
But he was lonely, sitting here. Isolated. Staring into his whiskey, ignoring the distant screaming he seemed to hear only in this place.
"Buy you a drink?"
Desperation in his voice.
06 WILLIAM WALKER'S OFFICE, SWEET IRON COMMUNICATIONS, DE CHIMA, CLOSED TO THE MAN IN BLACK
He threw open the door to Walker's office, unannounced and unrepentant. The receptionist knew he hadn't an appointment, and Chilton reveled in the minor revolution of it all. His stride was quick, determined, and sharp enough to outpace any interference from any secretary fearing for their job; he wanted to see William Walker. And he would.
"Well!" Chilton threw his hands upwards, smiling with a smug triumph unique to his mouth. "Your check had cleared! Renovation is now scheduled."
07 PLAYER'S CHOICE, OTHER, CHOOSE YOUR POISON
WHERE: Maurtia Falls mostly, and a single De Chima.
WHEN: Throughout June.
WHAT: Therapy & conflict!
WARNINGS: Psychic driving techniques as per the Kavinsky inpatient thread.
01 MAURTIA FALLS PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL FOR ABNORMAL CONDITIONS - CHILTON'S OFFICE, FOR OUTPATIENT APPOINTMENTS AND ANY CONFERENCES
Bela Talbot. Klarion Bleak. Elena Fisher. Newer patients, some willing and some... Mandated. But Chilton had an open office for all, to include older patients and relapsed patients, and he was more than willing to treat his fellow imPorts. Bela and Elena both merited careful, kind care -- the sort that Chilton built his professional reputation upon. Klarion would be a fine candidate for a Project, much like Kavinsky was, but his powers were truly horrifying. Whatever sociopathic tendencies the young man had, they needed to be redirected in the most healthy way possible.
Chilton sat in his high-backed leather chair, contemplating his next session. His office, painted in a light blue, maintained a heavier resonance with its gold and black accents. A decanter filled with finely aged whiskey sat behind him, nestled within his fully stocked bookshelf. Greco-Roman paintings and busts and trinkets littered his office, and gold pens glinted from his desk. Two seating arrangements sat before his, parallel to each other: one soft, light blue sedan and one hard, uncomfortable wooden chair.
He gave all his patients the same choice.
02 MAURTIA FALLS PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL FOR ABNORMAL CONDITIONS - STAFF AREAS, OPEN TO ALL BREEDS OF MINGLING INCLUDING STAFF INTERACTIONS
The boon of William Walker's recompense donation, which Chilton had summarily demanded after Walker's battle with Jack had destroyed Rincewind's office, was excessive and intended for excess. The hospital's exterior was afforded a facade change, a later Georgian design, and the basement imPort Containment Centers had been updated with three power nullifiers, one for each center, officially leased from the US Federal government. These prisons ensure that once an imPort is locked within the nearly 200 sq foot reinforced glass cylinder holding, they will not be able to escape. The main lobby, which typically contained some incarnation of Reggie Mantle, was accessible to all -- staff, patients, or otherwise. The staff lounge continued to maintain a modernize, even pompous, self-important sleekness, and brimmed with the necessities required for staff consumption. All vending machines had since been removed, thanks to the Rincewind Incident. Chilton had made the cause of this consequences very clear.
Each office associated with a staff member is decorated in accordance to the staff member's taste. While Chilton won't control the design, he'll certainly watch it -- every room in this hospital is recorded. Even the ones that aren't legally supposed to be recorded.
Staff are free to bring visitors during the day, but they must be armed with a Visitor's Pass.
When he does not hold meetings in his own office, which is indeed rather rare, Chilton will host them in a welcoming reception room on the first floor.
03 MAURTIA FALLS PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL FOR ABNORMAL CONDITIONS - INPATIENT WING, CLOSED TO KAVINSKY
"Now, Kavinsky," he said, his gaze determinedly fixed on the young man before him. "Are you ready to have a little conversation?"
They were on the second floor, the inpatient wing. The lights above glowed impossible bright, ethereally white. Everything was white on the inpatient wing, to include the hallways, with the rare pop of color amplified for shock value. Distorting, dissociating, stark and brutal. Kavinsky's own room was one of many lined along, with bullet-proof plexiglass guarding his enclosure as it fit towards the hallway. Inside his apartment, as Chilton called it, was a high-tech monitoring bed, a lamp, and a table -- all bolted to the ground. The chairs that they sat in were not attached to the floor, but they also were not allowed to remain in the room while Chilton was gone.
He had security remove them after the session.
"I brought you something," he said, softly, his gaze never breaking. From his double-breasted suit he pulled out a small book. A poetry book. Howl, Allan Ginsberg.
04 THE EAR WYRM, VINYL RECORD STORE, MAURTIA FALLS
He scoured for a sound that Raina would like. The gift he sought didn't come with a purpose, this was for no anniversary nor special occasion. There was a shadow soaking his subconscious, a primal fear reverberating into his behavior. This was because of Persephone, this was because of her song. She had sung especially to him, she had composed for him a song of betrayal and isolation and disdain, and while he knew that logically his loved ones wouldn't throw him into the trash, Chilton couldn't quite shake that terror. There was a tremor in his soul, because of Persephone.
So here he was, at The Ear Wyrm, looking for an unannounced present for Raina. To delay the thought of her leaving him.
05 LOUNGE BAR, THE HOTEL CASTILE, MAURTIA FALLS
Didn't a Sally once work here? He was fairly certain, reasoning that he had a memory of a sharp-edged woman named Sally once haunting James Patrick March's hotel. Or was that a fabrication, a deterioration in the mind? Chilton stared into his single malt scotch, repressing a shudder. Last month had been something of a collapse for him, he had suffered a psychosis that he had never before experienced: hallucination. Gore dripping from the ceiling onto the carpet, shadows turning into demons. In this hotel, beneath March's care, he had hallucinated more than once. Chilton hadn't discussed it, of course, he didn't want anyone to think he might be crazy. He wouldn't even associate the episodes with this hotel, this environment, if only to indulge the inexplicably darkness pulling at his marrow, sitting him here at this bar.
But he was lonely, sitting here. Isolated. Staring into his whiskey, ignoring the distant screaming he seemed to hear only in this place.
"Buy you a drink?"
Desperation in his voice.
06 WILLIAM WALKER'S OFFICE, SWEET IRON COMMUNICATIONS, DE CHIMA, CLOSED TO THE MAN IN BLACK
He threw open the door to Walker's office, unannounced and unrepentant. The receptionist knew he hadn't an appointment, and Chilton reveled in the minor revolution of it all. His stride was quick, determined, and sharp enough to outpace any interference from any secretary fearing for their job; he wanted to see William Walker. And he would.
"Well!" Chilton threw his hands upwards, smiling with a smug triumph unique to his mouth. "Your check had cleared! Renovation is now scheduled."
07 PLAYER'S CHOICE, OTHER, CHOOSE YOUR POISON
no subject
He wasn't inclined to explain the psychological trickery that went into his interior design; Klarion was amplified enough without hints of Chilton's never-ending analysis. His eyes cast downwards -- there was the cat, of course. The thing that Klarion had been speaking with, presumably, before his entrance.
"Take your seat," he commanded, and his soft tone didn't mask the fact that a demand was in his mouth. Chilton, seated at his own desk, exhaled as he shuffled through Klarion's file, spread on top his desk and birthed from a manila file.
"Do you ever tire of this cycle? Ever tire of doing this to yourself?"
Full blame on the patient.
no subject
"I certainly tire of dealing with you," he deadpanned, and slumped into the wooden chair. His gaze landed on the files atop the desk, and his eyes narrowed, flickering yellow like a faulty lightbulb. If he had his way, they'd either be in his hands, or lit up in flames. "I don't suppose we can get this over with quickly?"
no subject
"Describe how you feel, when you act out. Your process, when you find yourself in the midst of mischief."
Relatively tame definitions of what Klarion was prone to, but Chilton wasn't looking to start a fight. He knew his patient possessed anti-social tendencies, he knew about the low impulse control. But those behaviors could barely begin to be addressed until Klarion was forced to think about why he did the things he had done.
Introspection. It could be the most vital of medicine sometimes.
no subject
"... I was upset. That's nothing unusual, people get upset all the time," He shrugged, the implication being that blowing up several cars and fire hydrants was as normal as kicking over a few trash cans and graffiti-ing a storefront, and that this whole probationary period was an overreaction. "I just expressed it differently than most people are used to. I didn't set out to make a spectacle. It just happened."
There was a moment of silence and a pointed lack of eye contact before he spoke up again.
"... What's in those files?"
no subject
"You get upset in more statistically remarkable ways, I think we can agree on that. Even if it just happens."
Needless to say, Chilton would not agree with the assumed normalcy of what Klarion's anger was actually capable of. There was a stark danger inherent to his emotions, an electrical vibrancy that could transmute into damage unnaturally quickly. He was sitting here, in Chilton's office, for good reason.
"You and I need to find ways that will more safely express your anger. When you get upset."
He was already thinking of a verbal flowchart to follow, when Klarion interrupted with a question.
"These files? Your files. Behavioral notation, prior history," he said, licking at his lips. "Ideas for treatment. You are skeptical of mood stabilizers, is that right?"
no subject
The expression on Klarion's face barely even flickered as he realized what 'mood stabilizers' meant. Instead, the cat in his lap bristled and outright hissed at Chilton, which was a better indication of how much they liked the idea.
"I will not be medicated, Chilton," It was spoken with cold finality, and the hand that wasn't buried in Teekl's fur gripped the arm of the wooden chair so tightly that Klarion's knuckles were turning a paler shade of blue. He'd never admit it, but the glaring white sterility of hospitals unnerved him slightly, just enough to put him on edge when things like pills and needles were suggested.
"... And if you or anyone else in this architectural monument to your ego tries their luck, they will regret it."
no subject
Architectural monument to his ego.
"So I'll mark you as a maybe, then." Chilton teased, knowing full well that Klarion would not suffer a single pill. But as a possible solution, he was obligated to bring it up -- to neglect his duties would surely be unethical. And Chilton would certainly regret low ethics in Klarion's company.
"In the meanwhile, why don't we discuss anger management techniques." The only realistic pathway for his treatment, thought Chilton. "When you feel yourself getting irate, what tends to go through your mind? Between the spark of irritation and your inevitable action?"
Technically the reaction, but Chilton was careful to steer away from language that might even hint at an accusatory sniff. Klarion required a cautious touch.
no subject
"In that particular case, I was already upset, and someone was intent on getting my attention when I'd made it very clear that I'd rather be left alone. They wouldn't shut up, and so I made them. From that point on, it was just... venting." Explosive venting. "Look, those were extenuating circumstances, it won't happen again. Going through this twice is quite enough."
no subject
"So you were already upset," he said, returning to the crux of their conversation. "And you were trying to get about your day, when this someone kept inserting themselves into your life."
It was an automatically sympathetic retelling of Klarion's account.
"What had gotten you upset? Before this someone even entered the picture?"
no subject
"You see? Extenuating circumstances, like I said. One would think that the 'powers that be' here should have better things to concern themselves with."
no subject
Loss. Personal loss, a brutal trigger. And while Chilton hadn't previously known that Dorian Gray had been so significant to Klarion's interpersonal circle, it made quite a lot of sense in hindsight. A man like that, a close confidante. An immortal who had promised to live forever.
Someone else who had now abandoned Klarion.
"You know your actions will always be under scrutiny," he said, flicking his wrist as if to shoo away any implication otherwise. Chilton thought Klarion to be too intelligent to think he was barely noticed. "Your output, especially during trying times."
There was no escaping that. What Klarion needed was a firm strategy.
"For the time being," he said. "I would prefer if you tried removing yourself, immediately, from whatever stressful circumstance that comes upon you. Especially if you are already angry -- extenuating circumstances. Just remove yourself, and see if that helps you regain your emotional neutrality more quickly."
no subject
"... You know, that's actually remarkably sensible advice?" he said after a few moments, sounding genuinely surprised. "People don't generally mind if you take out your bad moods on deserted areas, they only start to fuss if other people are involved. I'd honestly been expecting more hostility from you, given our past interactions, or else more ill-advised medication! You can be a decent psychiatrist from time to time."
Again, he was being entirely genuine. That last sentence had been his attempt at a compliment.
no subject
But implicit insult to his default advice aside, Chilton was pleased with Klarion's reception. Promising, that he was interested in a viable solution; that was something positive that Chilton could report back with. Given a few good variables and fortuitous circumstances, Klarion might be back in the good books in no time.
"Your compliment is duly noted."
Luckily, Chilton could take a compliment for what it was. Extraneous insult aside.
"I will report back that you have committed to different techniques concerning the management of your anger -- I think that, along with the supervision I will provide, the government will be content with these protocols."
Meaning, no medication and no prison time.
"You will have to come back," he warned. "For further assessment. But otherwise -- well! I think you might be free to go. For now."