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
Funny, those things that still did linger in his mind. Gideon's lips tightened further, his eyes somehow growing even colder.
"Can't say," was his flippant response. "She doesn't seem to have any problem with the way I am."
no subject
Gideon might not know precisely who he was, but knowing who he was not nevertheless provided a springboard. He was working a long process of elimination.
"Physician, heal thyself," muttered Chilton.
Gideon was not a romantic. He was not prone to jealousy. He was not an extrovert. He did not need people, not like Chilton did. Gideon was a man at ease with his loneliness, now that his ability to trust was forever compromised.
"Should we leave Will Graham to him?"
Abrupt change of topic, mostly to distract Chilton from this train of thought. There was no need to clarify the him.
no subject
He tilted his chin upward, his head slightly to one side. He of course did know exactly who the him in this context was, and made no comment on the change of subject. It was, he felt, a relevant one. Significant for discussion.
"I think," he began slowly. "That we've protected Will Graham as far as he can be protected. And should he cast such help aside, then anything further will be on his head and his alone."
That was a yes.
"So that no further consequence may come down on ours."
no subject
"I'm steering us back," he said. The finality in his tone broke something unusual -- this was not up for debate, this crystallized syllabic control. And Chilton recognized that, how he had control in their immediate movements, if not the grander scheme.
They would leave Will Graham to his own fate. It was for the best. It was, truthfully, for their best interest. Simply not being perceived as a threat wasn't enough, they needed to defend themselves with a human sacrifice.
And both Gideon and Chilton could agree on Will Graham. There, in that idea, was another flicker of power. They could make this decision, they could take this path.
"It's going to work out," he said -- more to himself than his passenger. That realization of his audience didn't hit until Chilton had docked his rented yacht once more to its landing.
no subject
Well, discomfort was an improper term. There was resolve there in Chilton's voice, but Gideon could sense apprehension about working together beneath it. It was only natural it would be there.
"Staying a step ahead of the competition shouldn't be too hard," he continued, as the boat docked. "Just requires a bit of vigilance."