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)
maskormenacelogs2014-07-20 03:41 pm
slightlyoffchilt) wrote in maskormenacelogs2014-07-20 03:41 pm
Entry tags:
what have you got to lose --
WHO: Chilton and OPEN!
WHERE: All Around Heropa.
WHEN: July 8th to July 30th -- just indicate what day in the header please!
WHAT: This thus includes: psychiatric sessions, dinner reservations, coffee gallivanting, whimsical meetings of any any sort.
WARNINGS: Will update if necessary.
The sweltered gasps of summer whispered heavily onto his cotton button-ups and tailored blazers. Inspiring as the warmth and light might be (what better way to flesh out the contours of darkness?), Chilton struggled with his composure in the heat. And the heat flickered in more than mere temperatured conception; there was the metaphorical heat of sparring individuals, his own psychiatrist's history of violence and Borderline Personality Disorder, the cannibalistic ghouls of his past (and future) swaying back into his (endangered?) life. The stress was remarkable, plastering itself in the crooks of his neck, in the curve of his spine. There were fleeting fantasies, when he wondered if Christine had the right idea: escape Heropa for something more remote, something more brisk. But of course, that proposition was contrary to everything he had worked for -- Frederick Chilton was now an Attending Psychiatrist at his hospital, with a fascinating flow of imPort minds to analyze. This was a system he had wanted, the structure he craved. The brief hiatus from work he had taken lasted only three days, and even that was wholly in response to Karla Sofen's physical aggression (and consequential revelation). A minor setback. But with newer patients like Billy Kaplan (General Anxiety), Tommy Shepard (Anti-Social Personality Disorder), Erwin and Levi (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), and now Godot (... in which the jury's still out), there was a cemented allure to remaining within Heropa's embrace. Not to mention his longer-standing patients, the individuals who suffered the verge of identity crises (his favorite crisis), like Doctor Connors and Kanaya. Not to mention his project with Danger, a situation that sparked new height of unethical relations. And certainly, his promised patients, the ones he was only starting to sink his fingers into their synapses...
There was no true impulse to abandon any of that. He savored every atom of that foundation.
The sun implored blistering antics against his back, and he weathered the heat graciously.
WHERE: All Around Heropa.
WHEN: July 8th to July 30th -- just indicate what day in the header please!
WHAT: This thus includes: psychiatric sessions, dinner reservations, coffee gallivanting, whimsical meetings of any any sort.
WARNINGS: Will update if necessary.
The sweltered gasps of summer whispered heavily onto his cotton button-ups and tailored blazers. Inspiring as the warmth and light might be (what better way to flesh out the contours of darkness?), Chilton struggled with his composure in the heat. And the heat flickered in more than mere temperatured conception; there was the metaphorical heat of sparring individuals, his own psychiatrist's history of violence and Borderline Personality Disorder, the cannibalistic ghouls of his past (and future) swaying back into his (endangered?) life. The stress was remarkable, plastering itself in the crooks of his neck, in the curve of his spine. There were fleeting fantasies, when he wondered if Christine had the right idea: escape Heropa for something more remote, something more brisk. But of course, that proposition was contrary to everything he had worked for -- Frederick Chilton was now an Attending Psychiatrist at his hospital, with a fascinating flow of imPort minds to analyze. This was a system he had wanted, the structure he craved. The brief hiatus from work he had taken lasted only three days, and even that was wholly in response to Karla Sofen's physical aggression (and consequential revelation). A minor setback. But with newer patients like Billy Kaplan (General Anxiety), Tommy Shepard (Anti-Social Personality Disorder), Erwin and Levi (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), and now Godot (... in which the jury's still out), there was a cemented allure to remaining within Heropa's embrace. Not to mention his longer-standing patients, the individuals who suffered the verge of identity crises (his favorite crisis), like Doctor Connors and Kanaya. Not to mention his project with Danger, a situation that sparked new height of unethical relations. And certainly, his promised patients, the ones he was only starting to sink his fingers into their synapses...
There was no true impulse to abandon any of that. He savored every atom of that foundation.
The sun implored blistering antics against his back, and he weathered the heat graciously.
no subject
"I find the atmosphere most unnerving. Do you also get the feeling that they're simply waiting for a few imPorts to make very bad decisions?"
He didn't need to clarify who they encompassed, and besides that, every time Chilton explicitly mentioned the government by name he grew anxious in increments. What if they were listening? What if their very tattoos could transmit what they were saying, or even doing?
"This world may not be as advanced as some," he continued from that mental tangent. "But the technology these people have invested in seem to be more for surveillance and offense than anything else."
no subject
"Be it unchecked imports, as you suggest, giving the government justification for worse than their condescension and second rate treatment. Or one of a multitude of other volatile aspects of this situation." For a brief moment, Revan falls within his own musings -- eyes open but a thousand miles away, Clouded...
"It's almost... infuriating. How spectacularly unaware and unconcerned everyone is. Blind to how terribly wrong this could all turn out."
Recognition, however late, of Chilton's point draw's Revan's gaze back in and leads it to the covered area of his wrist once again. While his expression is passive as he turns his hand up to better see there's an edge to his voice and a coldness creeping into his eyes.
"It may sound a little strange, but I'd almost rather find out they were spying on us."
no subject
Chilton leaned back in his chair, picking idly at his food. He didn't resume eating, choosing instead to wait until his company was mutually served his own identical dish. Besides, the conversation at hand was far more interesting that how soft any creamily-treated French beets could taste. That distinction was more likely because Chilton was growing so tired of beets.
"Whatever mistakes the government had made before, with the others, we can assume they learned how not to repeat such failures. Which means," he said, nodding at Revan. "We really ought to be more concerned. Just as you said, it's highly frustrating that most of our number isn't overtly worried about this situation. Or maybe they're too afraid to express it? Maybe they've indulged in cognitive dissonance."
It was a thought worth a paper or two.
"Have you met anyone else here, who is willing to talk about this?"
no subject
It was to his great chagrin that he shakes his head in response to Chilton's question, peering at his companion with a sympathetic tilt of his head.
"Most of those that object to registration do so to sue for some misguided grab at independence. As if that will spare them from the coming storm."
They could be so lucky. Sadly the simple fact of their presence spoke to quite a different course of events.
"When a line is drawn, it doesn't matter on what side you stand. War has already found you."
no subject
Well.
Chilton had the feeling that Revan possessed a lot of interesting experience.
"What about infiltration?" He asked, feeling somewhat insecure. Chilton himself was Registered, after all, and while he didn't trust anything authority that wasn't his own, he still found it easier to capitulate to the system. To work with the system. And every day, every hour, he was scanning for opportunity.
"People, imPorts, who Register. Who get as close to the workings as possible -- a useful gathering of information."
no subject
Truly, this was someone who knew their way around a scandal.
"Those that pose no threat to the government will do so openly, peacocking their impotent rage at the world for all to see."
Reven though, was still unsure of his own feelings. Systems were necessary, especially to contain a crisis. But this particular system had the hallmarks of corruption.
Loyalty, indoctrination. Succor and dependance. Nationality and the fostering of bigotry. And unless it was curbed before it escalates to a point of no return, there will be blood.
"Though I'm curious. What would someone, as you say, infiltrating this system get out such a commitment? To what benefit to them?"
no subject
"And if they have that sort of cloaking benefit, well, then whatever influence such an individual can wield won't be immediately categorized as manipulation," he finished, with a quick wink. Chilton had, in this scenario, designated the hypothetical infiltrator as someone cunning an manipulative -- he calculated those qualities to yield the best results. And while not everyone was comfortable with this kind of talk resulting in this kind of person, Chilton knew his company would appreciate the subtlety, the necessity. This had, after all, already been proven.
"Do you know many who can manage that much, is the question."