I am the dark inside the night

[closetshark]

WHO: Pitch closetshark and The Good Doctor Chilton slightlyoffchilt
WHERE: A nightclub in Heropa
WHEN: Saturday night (4/12)
WHAT: Drinking, psychology, being creepers?
WARNINGS: Alcohol, probable talk of fears.

The last strains of sunset are still staining the sky crimson as Pitch steps from the shadows of a building across from the nightclub, his usual shadow woven robe replaced with what appeared to be a black on black shirt, waistcoat and trousers. He'd observed the crowd around the doors and wasn't quite fool enough to attempt to get in without at least halfway looking as if he belonged.

Gold eyes tracked a few of them, amusement briefly flitting across his features as he pushed at a few of their fears. Caution in such settings was always a wise choice, no matter whom you were with. Not everyone could simply slip out in a shadow to escape should the need arise.

He's hard to miss as he walks in, distinctly taller than most and while it could have easily been a trick of the light in the videos he's appeared on his skin truly is gray, catching and taking on the lights of the club easily.

Comments

[slightlyoffchilt]

Chilton was already waiting, in the back, his private room secured with a hefty deposit. The thudding of club bass thrummed in the background, and he kept his lips close to his glass of cognac. Chilton's tastes were eloquent, in function (and tacky in design), and it was fortunate that he had fallen into a form of career so similar to his own usual payments. The income wasn't strictly up to par, no; as Chief of Staff of a state-funded institution, Chilton had the freedom to declare his own salary.

He didn't have that here. But he knew how to manage funds, and rent was already paid for...

What was money for, anyway, if it couldn't be used to impress?

He had paid the bouncer to keep an eye out for Pitch, ensuring that the being would be recognized and kindly escorted to the dark rooms haunting the depth of the night club. Chilton was eager to get into discussion with this individual; there was something about his manner and nonchalance that rooted authenticity. Chilton, of all people, knew about putting on airs: Pitch was not faking to make it.

And that was fascinating.

[closetshark]

It's impressive, the way Pitch cuts his way through the crowd, and while it is admittedly an effect of him exuding an aura of fear strong enough to push them away it looks like effortless regality as he follows the bouncer to the room. There is something distinctly inhuman to his movement, something almost unsettlingly predatory and primordial that matches the gold of his eyes and the sharpness of his features.

"It's not a bad establishment they have going, though they should really check identification cards a bit better. Too many afraid of being caught with their fakes out there." He commented, the door closing behind him. "But ah, where are my manners. It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Doctor Chilton."

[slightlyoffchilt]

Chilton rose, accustomed to good protocol, and extended a hand to the ethereal being before him. Habit more than anything else drove the blood in his veins -- only upon a moment's hesitance did he reflect if Pitch (otherworldly as he was) would even endeavor a shake of the hands.

Chilton eased a halfway smile, his insecurity flaring. It was unusual for a man of his confidence to regress into doubt so quickly.

"Pleasure is mine. You'll have to forgive me, I began the round a bit quickly." He shrugged, as if humoring the acknowledgement of a liquid crutch. "Let me buy you something to drink -- what's your fancy?"

[closetshark]

There was a moment of hesitation before Pitch took the offered hand almost cautiously. His hand was cool, compared to the room, and once again assured that he wasn't going to pass right through the flesh of another his grip was firm.

"It's quite understandable, I am after all something of an unsettling being." He smiled, "Scotch, preferably single malt if they have it. I doubt they have any sort of mead."

[slightlyoffchilt]

The temperature and manner of the shake was noted -- subconsciously, working from some instinctual degree, Chilton found it both unnerving and fascinating. The hesitance exhibited wasn't one of timidity (far from it), but, rather, it was foresight.

He thought the observation was worth keeping, to ponder on later.

"Scotch, single malt, then. Excellent choice." It wasn't flattery -- Chilton himself had high standards with liquor. He made motion for a server, having peeked out from behind their private room's black velvet curtain.

Chilton ordered himself another drink, in conjunction.

"I haven't had much time to, ah, engage the night life," he said, when he was seated again. "Work can be quite consuming. But there's a certain allure -- people maintain fewer inhibitions, during darker hours. I find."

[closetshark]

Pitch didn't sit so much as perch on the arm of one of the chairs, keeping the door within eyesight and as little of the room to his back as he could without seeming too obvious.

"I now rather intimately what happens in the arms of shadows, Doctor." He smiled indulgently, voice soft. "What masks fall away when humanity thinks nobody is watching them, what they allow themselves to dwell on when they are alone with their own thoughts... some of what you catch yourselves in is far worse than I can make on my own at times. I open the door and lay out the parts and nudge it along but I don't force mankind in to things."

[slightlyoffchilt]

Chilton watched his company, captivated by the poise of the other fellow. There was that confident ease that seemed so inherent to Pitch -- it was worth savoring. The doctor smiled in return, nodding as his company spoke, his mind mingling over the words, the content, and the speech left unsaid.

Pitch was the sort of company that pushed Chilton to seem more elegant than he naturally was. Spine straight, smile carefully crafted, and he kept his focus pushed to conversation. What he listened to proved somewhat addictive, perhaps because of the cadence Pitch could maintain.

"Do you prefer that? Knowing what is revealed, when no one thinks they're being watched -- do you prefer that in contrast to any forced facade?"

He knew that he did. It was why he bugged all the rooms in his hospital.

[closetshark]

"I've never known anything else." Pitch admitted, "Since as long as I have existed, I have known what truly lays beneath the surface of humanity. What terrifies you the most, what keeps you awake at night... what you don't want anyone else to know about you."

He let his eyes rove over Chilton at the last statement, a tight smile gracing his features before he shifted and rose to his feet.

"Oh, the facade is entertaining enough. Like watching young children perform Shakespeare."