I can't find enough pots and pans

[unclassifiable]

WHO: Simon Illyan, Frederick Chilton, Jorah Mormont
WHERE: Chilton's office
WHEN: idk we'll figure it out.
WHAT: the second installment of Simon Illyan, maker of good choices and superspy extraordinaire. Feeling around Baelish's power base, Simon decides to hypnotize Chilton, a decision which could never go badly.
WARNINGS: hypnosis, probably violence

[So far, Simon had not had much luck on turning up anything on Baelish besides Rincewind's vague but ominous pronouncement that he was dangerous. Having found almost no dirt on him at all, Simon was beginning to agree. No-one in politics kept that clean without some fairly high-level maintenance; Simon was that maintenance, back on Barrayar, even if he couldn't quite disappear problem people the way he could back in Emperor Ezar's heyday.

But the connection between Chilton and Baelish had been fairly easy to turn up and fairly conspicuous, all the more so because Baelish was funneling money to him indirectly. Sound strategy dictated that since the head-on approach hadn't worked, it was time to come at Baelish from the side, through his allies. Jorah still proved elusive. Chilton was the next best candidate.

Simon could have simply broken into the office and taken Chilton unawares, but if he had any kind of immunity to his hypnosis, things would have gotten irrecoverably awkward, and Simon had been taught better than that. Instead, he goes at it above-board: Catches Chilton outside of his office, begs to be seen immediately, citing a respectful number of psychiatric red flags. He looks like a man who hasn't slept in three months because of nightmares. Possibly because it would not have been far off the truth a month ago, when he'd still been in the thick of the Komarr rebellion, though far more dramatic than Simon had ever been in his life.]

Tha—... Thank you again, Doctor. [He murmurs as they head back to Chilton's office. Simon's stiff bearing is 100% repressed traumatized war vet whose only notion of psychiatric care is a swift boot to the head. Another easy sell. It was a very common sight on Barrayar.]

Comments

[slightlyoffchilt]

It is really -- no trouble.

[Heavy reassurance needed to be utilized, with open palms and a neutral smile. The timing was fortunate for Simon; Reggie had already clocked out for the day and Chilton had no lingering patients at that hour. The rest was textbook, as Chilton was just as duty-bound to invite Simon in as he was intrigued by the harrowed appearance of the man.

Frederick Chilton wasn't one to scorn opportunities.]

Please, take a seat.

[Within his office stood two obvious modes of seating: a light blue, soft sedan and a hard wooden chair. Both were angled towards his desk, both were parallel to each other. The Heropa Downtown Hospital had been generous in its accommodations, and Chilton's high-ceiling room hosted a lengthy bookcase behind his desk -- one filled with impressive-looking psychiatric texts, a whiskey decanter, and the odd art deco horse statue. Light blue, black, and gold accented the space, and his desk was practically brimming with gold pens.]

Am I to understand that you may need expedited care?

[He knew which pharmacy to hit up, if that were the case. The hospital allowed for in-house use in case of emergency. Without yet turning to take his own seat in his high-backed leather chair, Chilton kept a concerned and analytical set of eyes on Simon.]