maskormenacelogs | now we molt past our skin.

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now we molt past our skin.

WHO: dr. frederick chilton & danger.
WHERE: the good doctor's office.
WHEN: valentine's day, morning.
WHAT: a session.
WARNINGS: these are not nice characters.

[ danger lingered outside the doorway. truthfully, she disliked being there. having the man work at the osborn facility had been a different matter-- that had been her kingdom, her domain, a place where her eyes and ears were everywhere. whatever curiosity she'd had about the good doctor's new working environment was overshadowed by the distinct feeling of being in his territory-- something that displeased her more than she'd anticipated.

it was hard to say what compelled her to keep their bargain. it was no secret that she openly disliked chilton. she hardly trusted him. yet the interactions continued to occur, sometimes of her own initiation, perhaps as a result of her ever present desire to be understood by someone else-- or something less complicated, fueled by rivalry perhaps, or some unnamed interest in the man, some mental stimulation that came from their competition.

whatever it was, she was there now, pursing her lips at the door and half-reconsidering the merits of being present. finally, without knocking for permission, she let herself in, her tone decidedly unfriendly when she greeted him with curt simplicity: ]

Doctor.

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Danger.

[His surprise at her authentic presence was obscured only after a moment, his widened eyes lingering long enough to be calculated. He had halfway assumed she wouldn't continue to meet him -- their recent conversations had been nothing if not aggressive, and revealing. A lesser being would have shut the door and locked it; but Danger was no lesser being.

He appreciated that quality in her. Chilton was a man who deeply enjoyed the remarkable.]

Take a seat, won't you? [A beat, as he leaned back in his own.] Are you eager for another bout?

[ automatically, her instinct was to resist sitting-- not because she had anything against the act in particular, but because she disliked needing either his permission or his suggestion to do it. it showed in the way she paused before obliging, carefully placing herself into the chair without relaxing her posture.

she eyed him steadily as she responded. ]

We had an agreement, did we not? [ pointedly: ] I am perfectly willing to leave if this is not convenient for you, Doctor.

Oh no, you may certainly stay. [Again, at his suggestion, his allowance. He knew it would prove insufferable to her, and the doctor even acknowledged that with a smile.

It was one intentionally charming, the corners of his mouth perked with radiance.]

Comfortable?

[He didn't wait for an answer, before thrusting into dialogue.]

We had discussed a figure of curious importance to you, before. Charles Xavier. I wonder, do you see his qualities mirrored in many other men?

[ she kept her face well-controlled at first, but the subject of charles xavier was an extremely personal one. her expression, passive though it usually was, betrayed her slightly in the way her mouth turned down at the corners, eyes narrowing faintly. even if she had given up her mission to murder the man she called "father," her feelings remained complex. she would never forget his betrayal.

a telling pause passed before she answered again, tilting her head up slightly in condescending manner as she spoke: ]

I suspect you are once more asking questions you already know the answers to, Doctor. To humor you-- yes. Obviously.

Very good.

[He smiled, making it clear that found her obedience pleasing. Even though she saturated the sensation by announcing that she was merely humoring him, Chilton still made motion to secure some claim for his ego. She had, after all, still answered his question.

And that was half the battle.]

But yes, I assumed as much. This direction serves a purpose, however: who reminds you of your creator, your father figure? Are they men that you encounter regularly? Daily, even?

[ there was a twinge of impatience in her voice then, something that betrayed her despite how quiet her voice remained: ]

Perhaps we should take a less winding path to the subject, Doctor. Who is it you would like me to discuss? My father? Madison Jeffries? Norman Osborn, perhaps? [ her eyes narrowed faintly as she spoke, working her way through the list of men that had taught her what treachery and abuse of power felt like. ] You?

Me.

[Of course he would, given his own minor sense of megalomania, his own craving ego. He whispers the word, the self-reference, as he leans forward; his eyes refuse to abandon Danger's face.]

We are bound to each other in some way, Danger, as I'm sure you've noticed. Or haven't you? [The question comes a degree cold, a little harsh. If it was because he assumed something was one sided, it couldn't have been interest. Danger had already clarified that commitment.]

Do you feel as though you're learning from me? From us?

[ naturally, the man rose easily to the accusation. it riled her inwardly, but only a slight fraction of that emotion managed to surface to her expression-- a little downturn in the corners of her mouth to show her displeasure. in her mind, she might have been simulating a violent act to sate her temper before she opened her mouth to reply. ]

I am learning from you, yes. [ purposefully, she lets her posture relax, allowing herself to sit back in the chair as she crosses her arms loosely under her chest, head tilted up in condescension. ] I imagine there will be a day when I have learned enough that when I encounter another man like you, I will find that there is nothing left of interest to investigate and thus be able to effortlessly crush him underfoot at my discretion.

Visceral.

[The word wasn't accompanied by judgement, in fact, Chilton seemed somewhat titillated by the prospect. That Danger would envision such an advantage and employ, instead of Chilton himself, some cipher. Well. That was unintentionally flattering.]

And engaging in its symbolism. The boot on the body -- very Orwellian. Suitable for you, especially, as your motif falls nothing short of Big Brother incarnate. [He scribbled something down in his notepad in hand.] How does that satisfaction compare? Using knowledge learned from humanity against humanity, I mean.

[ her eyes followed the movements of his hand as he wrote down his note. ]

I don't hate humanity, Doctor. My feelings of resentment hardly extend to the entire human species. On the contrary, there are individuals of your race that have become special to me. [ her attention found his face again as she spoke. ] Whatever satisfaction I might feel in causing harm, physical or otherwise, is vengeful in nature. I prefer to ensure that the same person does not hurt me twice.

Consider that your faith in even a few individuals may be misguided. [He pulled his notepad closer to his chest, leaning back in his chair as he did so. It was an attempt to obscure his hand motions.]

People, sentient beings, by their very nature hold priorities isolated from your priorities. Even a good friend will betray you, Danger, regardless of the personality that friend maintains.

[He tilts his head slightly, surveying her. His eyes sought to penetrate.]

It's fair to discriminate between individuals of humanity, but you wouldn't do well to measure it by harm inflicted upon you. If such a measurement continues, the you're going to be disappointed and alone.

[ disappointment. loneliness. these were things she was well-acquainted with, through no choice of her own. despite whatever advanced intelligence being a machine had granted her, she was still a young consciousness, naive with her nascent emotions. she had allowed herself to be hurt and misled before. the way he found her now-- distrustful, vengeful-- that was how her pain had taught her to be.

his words made the corners of her mouth drawn down slightly. because she recognized some truth in it-- that humans had almost always inevitably betrayed her, even when she had loved them. ]

I have come to understand that caring for a human being is to accept that they will inevitably hurt me. In those circumstances, I have chosen to allow it, given the sacrificial nature of that type of sentiment. [ she met his gaze steadily as she spoke. ] But I am a volatile being, and violent by nature. I can never promise complete submission, and I cannot guarantee safety from retaliation.

And do you think they could possibly accept you, knowing that? Do you think they could be open to you, as you are not fully opened to them?

[He poised the question philosophically, his pen straying over an inked word.]

That pesky two way street, Danger. It's the roadblocks that paradoxically protect us, safeguard us, and deny us the accessibility we so commonly desire. [A beat, as he lets that metaphor absorb.]

Frequently I have noted that sociopaths usually want to engage and understand other people at a normal, empathetic level, but simply cannot. They, too, won't yield -- though perhaps the tolerance of a sociopathic mind is far, far less so than yours.

Perhaps.

Am I both a sadist and a sociopath now, Doctor? Is that your professional opinion?

[ she did not raise her voice-- and yet, her stare hardened, something subtly defensive in the language of her body as she watched him, daring him to continue his train of thought. in her mind, she was thinking of madison jeffries, of how she'd loved him. or had she only convinced herself that love is what she felt? had it only been a machine's clever mimicry, learned from watching humans and fabricated by well-crafted programming?

her hands tensed slightly on the arms of her chair before she consciously relaxed them. ]

Be straight-forward, if you mean to accuse me.

I'm not ready to diagnose you, Danger. I've only just begun to accumulate the necessary data to form a professional opinion.

[He offered the excuse easily, his voice couched with a gentle glee. The stringing her along, the observation of her impartial pauses (he assumed she was debating his argument, considering it for merit or otherwise), that was all intoxicating to the psychiatrist. He was not keen to release that notch of power with a straightforward answer.

His smile exposed gleaming teeth; it was the grin of a man who had never known childhood neglect or stress. Confident in his health and purpose, things had been given to him with only moderate to periodically strenuous work ethic in demand. It was perhaps what provoked Chilton to chase these rebellious minds, these fringe thinkers.

He wanted it harder.]

Do you find it easier to control and contain people?

[ again, her eyes narrowed, leaving behind slivers of white under her lashes as she watched him. ]

As a method of study, sometimes. Yes. It is less complicated [ safer ] than forming relationships and more productive than observation alone.

[ it was the main reason she had agreed to serve as a warden in her home world -- to have at her fingertips the dark side of humanity, its twisted and perverted minds. perhaps she thought if she could understand that part of the human species, it would illuminate them as a whole. perhaps she had hoped it would teach her how to understand them.

or how to understand herself, the self-identified monster. ]

But you already know of my tendencies.

One must test for consistency. [He lifted up his eyebrows, as if skeptical of her implied questioning. There was nothing to suggest that Danger was anything short of consistent, of course, and perhaps it was transparent that he hid behind protocol in order to create a labyrinth to lead her within. Chilton put down his notepad, turning its written word against the top of his desk, obscuring his documented thoughts.]

Of course. I understand the, ah, temptation to interact with your subjects.

[He didn't smile with this, and his eyes focused on her facial expression.]

I'm aware that, through constraining them, caging them, you can control them in a way. You can put limitations to their resources, and you can listen to them unravel.

[ her face remained passive under his scrutiny-- as if she consciously controlled it, denying him the satisfaction of seeing her react as soon as she felt the weight of his attention.

there was a subtle accusation in her tone as she leaned forward slightly, answering him lowly: ]

Is that so? Perhaps you are projecting, Doctor.

You consider me power hungry. [He acknowledged the retort, calling it for what it was. He felt too close, psychologically, to Danger for the idle veneer he more commonly portrayed to unsuspecting individuals. She deserved some degree of frankness, as she had capitulating the same degree to him.

Chilton could be fair, in his warped and egotistical way.]

It's true that I wield power soundly, Danger. I deserve to, having worked so hard for my acclaim. But it isn't control alone that draws me to the likes of you.

[He mirrored her leaning, murdering much of the space between them. Only his desk prevented further spatial exploration.]

It isn't only the pursuit of knowledge. I am probably unique in my appreciation of your darker impulses.

[ she seemed to take the way he leaned towards her as some kind of challenge, because her eyes narrowed faintly again, calculating as she regarded him, not giving so much as a breath of space back. ]

Do you find yourself attracted to murderers and monsters, Doctor? [ her voice remained steady, careful on each precise syllable. ] Perhaps you should consider your sense of self-preservation. Let us assume that I am, as you have suggested, a sadist and a sociopath. You have now chosen to place yourself alone in a room with me. That does seem somewhat unwise.

I've treated sociopaths, sadists, murderers for years, Danger. I've never suffered for it. [If only he were pulled a day later from his canon, then he wouldn't be able to make such claims.] Needless to say, I know how to handle myself.

[He shrugs, smiling at her with half a grin, as if already accepting his rebuttal as sufficient. Nice try, he seems to imply.]

We're not here to discuss me. You're not interested in my self-preservation -- you're dodging the scrutiny that I'm delivering. I don't advise that technique, it's only going to hurt you more.

Speaking of. Has there ever been a human being who hasn't disappointed you?

[ she let herself think of making him suffer for it. ]

If there has been, they are less significant than the ones that have disappointed me.

[ an initial answer that would have been more or less true, if she were still in her home world. but there were always exceptions to the rule. she had found herself some unusual kinships, and after a beat, she goes on: ]

Save perhaps a select few individuals I have met since Lachesis saw fit to remove me from my own universe. That count includes our mutual acquaintance, Dr. Gideon, and Kirei Kotomine, a friend of mine whom, judging by your interests, you would find endlessly fascinating.

I have very specific tastes.

[He recognized the name Kotomine, though couldn't place the man, which suggested that the individual in question wasn't on a favored psychological radar. It was worth looking into, but only after his business was attended to. Chilton brandished his skepticism, wielding it before Danger, inadvertently flattering her in the process.

She was more specific to his tastes.]

And Abel, really? [His lips thinned, flatlining with sarcasm.] I've already informed you that he's a former patient of mine. A pure sociopath. He murdered his wife, her family, and countless others -- he took organs as trophies. [He shrugged, rolling his eyes.] Then again. I suppose if you have absolutely no positive expectations, it's impossible to be disappointed...

Edited 2014-02-19 02:44 (UTC)

He understands me.

[ that was all the justification she offered. in her mind, it was all she needed. the thing she wanted most of all was to be understood. perhaps, if her father had taken the time to look at her fully, to acknowledge her existence in some way, to offer her but a moment's consideration-- perhaps this young and angry being would have become something different entirely.

to see anyone reach through the darkness towards her now, whether they were a child or a murderer-- that was the only true cure for the resentful loneliness that permeated her every wire and circuit. ]

I find a great value in being unconditionally accepted by another sentient being, Doctor.

He understands you, oh.

[Chilton rolled his eyes more blatantly, smearing his expression with overt mockery.]

Sociopaths are generally capable of mirroring techniques. That means that they observe you, they act as you act towards others; such is often an indicator of how you would like to be treated, at least, it is upon neutral ground.

[The doctor exhaled, leaning back in his seat, breaking the spell of proximity between them.]

He said what he knew you wanted to hear. Superficial charm, it's the very definition.

[He would make no comment on how he accepted her darkness, her pathological impulses. He would not admit how he prized them, how he relished them, how he wanted them.]

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