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
She frowned for a moment and tapped her finger against the book, while her foot bounced against the floor.
"But if he did feel guilty, then why did he drag other people into it?"
no subject
But every saga had its untold secrets. His would be no different.
"I believe sometimes, despite age or experience or intelligence, people have a difficult time navigating through their own tumult. And Walter brought others into his trauma, and maybe he hadn't any intention -- initially -- to hurt them. But eventually he did. Inevitably, he would."
A dark little conclusion.
"Not the most optimistic of tales, I'll grant you."
no subject
It will become more relevant in her future, when she uncovers the deepest secrets her friends and new "family" hold, but that's a story for another time.
"It didn't have to end that way," she said finally. Her gaze was still turned downward, but her voice was firm and resolute. "There had to be some way it could have gone differently. Not everybody makes the same mistakes he did, do they?"
The question was rhetorical. Or at least, it was supposed to be rhetorical. Utena was never in the same position as Chilton to know men like White... or his friends from Baltimore.
no subject
Chilton's experience with humanity as a whole was a pessimistic one; it was because of his ability to distinguish individuals that he had yet to abandon any and all interest in other people. ImPorts, regardless of their shallow morals, were fascinating -- and, to be quite frank, Chilton's pessimism was not entirely aligned with his need to be with people. That relationship was more indirect.
"It is more than ethically bankrupt people tend to do ethically bankrupt things... But, that being said, rare is the lawful good mind who commits an atrocity." No one was sheltered from Chilton's occasional nerd references. "That would be a most unusual case, indeed."
A unique case, even.
"You believe you would avoid many of his mistakes, I imagine?"
no subject
There was a grimace on her face as she trailed off, and she couldn't stop the shudder that ran down her spine when she thought of how, exactly, a wannabe Walter White would be stopped.
"Their ending probably wouldn't be as messy, though. Well, messy for them, maybe, but it wouldn't be as big."
There was that word again: big. Utena was on the verge of a potential breakthrough here, a new realization into Walter White and men like him. She just needed to take a few steps forward, first.
no subject
"It wouldn't have affected as many people, been as remarkable a spectacle."
A spectacle that Chilton himself had enabled, but he removed his culpable responsibility. He controlled the narrative after White's death, and he wrote himself to be the concerned observer, the man who tried to prevent a travesty. A story easily penned and ardently flowing.
"He wanted it this way. This big."
Pushing, guiding. Gently.
"Needed it."
Emphatically.
"But he did not always -- it is surprising, sometimes, what people will become when they realize they want something."
no subject
Something eternal. Utena's eyes lit up when it hit her, and it stunned her long enough to let Chilton finish his train of thought. His last statement spawned a new question, though, and she tilted her head before she spoke.
"What did he want before? Before any of this happened."
no subject
Even if that meaning was wrought with acidic endeavor, even if it was blackened and displayed crookedly. Walter White would not be some forgotten high school afterthought, he had died a legend to behold. Twice, he had died a legend. Who could beg for more?
"He was destined to die early." Chilton glanced away. "Cancer. I think that death sentence did, in part, spurn his psychotic break."
Much to Chilton's pleasure.
"The most normal of people can make such rash and brutal decisions."
no subject
After all, her best friend was the most normal girl she knew.
She went still for a moment, a move which would have been less obvious if Utena Tenjou had ever stayed still, and swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. None of her friends would share the fate of this old man and the fragile empire he built. However, she no longer wished to speak of him. Right now, she wanted to speak of home, though she would not tell Chilton that.
"He was jealous."
She spoke softly, but with certainty, and she breathed in deep as she looked down at her book.
"Jealous of people around him - people who he thought were greater than him. People who... who shined brighter than him. He was jealous of the people who were already- no. He was jealous of the people who were always in the spotlight, while everyone else ignored him and what he could do."
no subject
"There was a man," he said. Details that Walter White wouldn't want illuminated, things that Chilton hadn't put in his book. These were secrets alluded to in confidence. "From his university years, a man he had considered to be his friend. A man he went into business with, who he had sold his side of the business to, after they had a falling out. A man who had later become wildly successful, extraordinarily wealthy."
A man who Walt had blamed for marrying his own girlfriend.
"I think that, in many ways, Walt continued to compare himself to this man."
Jealous of people who he thought were greater than him.
"Does human behavior interest you, Ms. Tenjou? Or rather, phrased this way: when you see someone like Walter White, are you compelled to understand what makes him tick?"
no subject
"Not really," she admitted. "It's not the kind of thing that I ever thought much about back home. But..."
How to put it? How to put it...
"I was talking to a friend, see, after I came back here. And he mentioned that there's a lot of guys around here who do nothing but cause trouble for everyone around them. Like... I don't know. Like some kind of villains. It sounds pretty silly when you say it out loud like that, but I guess I started to wonder why so many of us turned out that way, while normal people just stayed... well, normal."
no subject
He knew of Constellation, of course, and of his own Raina's involvement with the highly villainous group (if labels were to be concerned). While his tone carried mild interest, his smile was just a touch strained. His heart beat just a pace quicker.
Chilton folded his hands and leaned forward over his desk.
"Do you think some of our number becomes like that because we are thrust into this unnatural universe? Or do you think a high statistic of unusual minds, of dangerous minds, are imported?"
Nurture versus nature, but reframed.
"And where do you see yourself fitting into all that?"
no subject
Fortunately for Chilton, Utena was too distracted by her own thoughts to notice any difference in his demeanor. His smile was simply a smile, borne out of either politeness or encouragement, and she continued on unaware of his own stake in the matter.
"But I don't think it's anything like that," she said. "Well, the first one, maybe, but it's not really the place that's the problem. It's more like what the place gives us. It makes people powerful, in a way they might not be back home. And power... it makes some people crazy, doesn't it? When they can do more than anyone else, it makes them think that they're better than anyone else. That other people just don't matter - they don't matter as much as what they want, or what they want to do."
Her tone turned sharp near the end, and her voice practically dripped with disgust. When she finished, though, she sat up straight and looked not at Chilton, but beyond him, and continued to speak with her head held high.
"But not everybody," she declared. The loathing in her voice gave way to conviction, and she spoke with more firmness than before. "We can help people, too. If I have to fit into this place somehow, that's how I want to do it. I want to be able to help people that nobody else can."
Once she met a girl that only a prince could save, so she vowed to become that prince. While she had not forgotten her, perhaps she could be that prince - no, that hero - to someone else in need.
no subject
The prevention of those nasty power trips. Her eventual optimism wasn't misplaced; Chilton believed that the majority of imPorts were morally inclined to abide by the rule of law, if spiritually neutral on order. Many would be persuaded by her conviction, at least initially. That alone could catapult her into some grandeur.
"Maybe that is your purpose?" He offered it like the thought just occurred to him, a spark. A recognition. "To... Guide those imPorts who want to help people. The ones inclined to understand the world as you see it."
Ambition. Chilton used it like commerce, growing it with interest.
no subject
The fire in her eyes faded, replaced by surprise. While Utena was no stranger to purpose and higher callings, she had always focused on what she could do and what she could become. The idea that others could join her at her side, not as targets of her heroism but as actual peers and allies, was a new one.
"You almost make it sound like my destiny or something like that. No offense, but I would have expected something more scientific from a guy like you."
There was a small, slight smile on her face when she said that. She didn't have a problem with what Chilton said. It was just something she hadn't quite expected from.
no subject
Nature had its impact. A psychopath had specific neurological proclivities, for example, and that behavioral predestination could only be tamed -- never eradicated. Human nature, brutal and malicious as it was, typically was leashed by society. Often, people engaged politely, normally. But everyone was born with a brain chemistry that would, in some way, determine their options.
"You might come to the same conclusion," he said, his gaze drifting to his own bookcase behind his desk. It was an invitation.
no subject
"What about other people?"
There was a brief glance between Chilton's books and Chilton himself, and continued, "I don't mean 'can other people do this'. I mean more like... what if there's someone who's hurt? Someone who thinks that it's always going to hurt. Someone who..."
She looked down and her voice softened.
"Someone who thinks that their pain is all they have. Some people would call that destiny too, wouldn't they?"
After all, that's what the prince had told her about Himemiya. Utena was confident that this would not be her fate. She wouldn't allow it. However, it wouldn't hurt to have a chance to declare it out loud, either.
no subject
His tone was factual, clinical. Chilton often removed his personal emotion when discussing psychiatric matters -- a technique that had been hammered into him since his post-graduate days. That tone was more than a defense, it created a divide, a glass wall to better peer through. A tone that enabled impartial observation.
"You will find those cases, too. They are, frankly, inevitable."
Fated. But he refrained from using the word again, a small smile on his face.
"But I doubt these are they answers you had come for, Ms. Tenjou."
His acknowledgement was born from more observation. It was clear, to Chilton at least, that these matters weighed heavily upon her mind.
no subject
"No."
Her answer was immediate and her voice was firm, and she looked up at him as she continued.
"You said that we create our own destinies, didn't you? Well, if I can change my destiny, then I can change someone else, can't I?"
It seemed like a logical conclusion. Unfortunately, a logical conclusion was not always the same as a correct one.
no subject
"I think you can, yes."
Chilton smiled, his warmth returning.
"You have the qualities of someone who can really make an impact on another's life."
Affirmative, encouraging words -- that's all that was to be found in his mouth. He was at the hearth, stoking her embers.
no subject
"I hope so," she said as she smiled back at him. "I don't know what I have, exactly, but... I know that I want to. And maybe... maybe that's the important part."