maskormenace | [02] Video; Backdated to Friday May 1st

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[02] Video; Backdated to Friday May 1st

[ Hey, everyone. It's Walt. You may remember this guy from such videos as drunk posting in his underwear. But in case you don't (and hopefully you don't), Walt is fully clothed this time. He still looks every bit as weary as his video debut, but at least he isn't drunk. That's a plus. ]

I apologize in advance for any inconvenience. It seems as though the Heropa pharmacy was caught up in whatever chaos erupted in the city and suffered some damages. We will be closed until further notice, but I will be doing my best to ensure prescriptions still get out to everyone who used my pharmacy to have them filled. We have a sister pharmacy that has temporarily taken on accounts here in Heropa. Though if it's more convenient for imPorts, I can have things forwarded to the other imPort cities.

Repairs have already begun, so I don't anticipate us being closed for over a couple weeks. If anyone wants to offer their assistance in helping rebuild the damaged sections, it would be greatly appreciated. Otherwise, I hope everyone has been well and continues to be well now that the worst of this is all behind us.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Nice show. Do you anticipate Hank stalking you?

[ Walt is still a little wary about how easily these conversations can be hacked. And he looks a bit uncomfortable. ]

Highly likely. He's going to help with some of the repairs as it is, but he won't find anything telling.

[ A pause. ]

I have some things for you.

Some things for me? It's astounding how you always manage to be so mysterious, Walt.

Are you going to make me guess?

I'll show you tonight. We're still on for tonight, aren't we? Or did you have to reschedule all of your missed appointments into our slot?

I'd hope you wouldn't try to avoid me, Chilton. [ Mockingly offended: ] It might hurt my feelings.

Edited 2015-05-04 03:39 (UTC)

You're aware of how menacing you can make that sound, I'm sure. [It was, actually, a touch menacing. Despite how mocking the offensive Walt could make it.] But, of course, we are on still for this night. I haven't scheduled any sessions over established ones -- mostly doubling, for next week.

Good.

[ Good that Walt sounded menacing or good that they're still on for the night, though, Walt doesn't specify. ]

Meet me at the porter. We're changing the scenery and going to the cabin tonight.

[ OOC: Would you want to action this or just handwave? ]

Edited 2015-05-04 08:29 (UTC)

[Let's action it here!]

Rather eager with giving out orders, for a patient.

[Came the grumble that might have been caught on audio. But in accordance to their scheduled time, Chilton was waiting at the designated porter. The question of scenery intrigued him, needless to say, even despite the unsettling sensation that Walt was trying to usurp control over their sessions.]

[ Walt arrived shortly thereafter. ]

By the way, I prefer partner. Not patient.

[ After which, he led the way through the porter -- into Maurtia Falls where he had a vehicle parked and waiting for them. Walt got in the driver's side and waited for Chilton to get into his seat as well, idly fumbling with the stereo to find a classic rock station. ]

You look well, all things considered.

You must have been musing on that retort for a bit while you waited, poor thing. [Chilton grinned at his patient turned partner, offering his own amusement where Walt was otherwise unlikely to endeavor any. He followed Walt's suit, casually sliding himself into the passenger's side of the vehicle. Glancing over the radio, and consequently the genre of choice, he wondered for a brief section if he ought to use his powers to switch out the rock from classical rock.

No, mused Chilton. That breed of psychic driving was still an ace up his sleeve.]

Thank you. You are also suitably appealing in appearance.

[ Walt didn't respond to Chilton's first statement. ....or the second one. What. Why would that even be a necessary retort? It's not like Walt got tortured by Crane. ]

The place we're going to is important to Jesse and me. It's our sanctuary, and as we get closer to it, I'm going to ask you to put on a blindfold.

[ Walt frowns, navigating the streets of Maurtia Falls. They're on the main roads for now. ]

It's just precautionary, Chilton. I understand if you have...reservations. But if you can't trust in anything else, please trust in my devotion to Jesse. He would be upset if he knew I let you in there in the first place. Defeats the purpose of a safehouse, he would say. He's the whole reason we got the cabin in the first place, he would say.

[ Walt seemed a little nervous and apprehensive -- not wanting Chilton to believe he was about to just blindfold him and murder him or something. His fingers closed tight around the steering wheel and loosened, only to repeat the process. It felt like walking on eggshells since the whole Crane thing went down. Damnit, Crane! ]

Reservations.

[Chilton repeated the word, somewhat acridly, while granting a slick sidelong glance to the driver.]

I've just been traumatized, and you want me to wear a blindfold for the sake of your thumping guilt? [And there was no reason to doubt the sincerity of that guilt; Walt clearly had a strong investment in Pinkman. This sort of curtailing of their terms and agreement, concerning this special place theirs, was a loophole. Walter could lie to himself, he could make Chilton wear a blindfold, but the psychiatrist still saw what was going on.]

I can't wait to see your other hosting techniques.

[He knew he wasn't going to win this battle. He'd have to concede to wear whatever Walter asked of him.]

Only for part of the ride! I knew you were gonna get defensive.

[ Walt was quick to protest before he narrowed his eyes with a grumble. ]

And it's not guilt, it's caution. Of the two of us, you're the one who did the most damage to me, remember? You have your phone on. You can call your FBI dog and have a conversation with him if that'll make you feel better. I won't interrupt.

[ Walt reached into the backseat and grabbed the light blue strip of cloth, dropping it onto Chilton's lap. The main roads were left behind as they turned onto a few less crowded ones, eventually reaching the back roads. ]

Once we hit the wooded area, that's when I want you to put it on. Please, Chilton. Just do me this favor. I promise it will be worth your while.

[Light blue. It was a similar color to his sedan, and some of the other hued accents in his aesthetic. Had Chilton known more about Skyler, had he any visuals of her, he would have verbally connected the blindfold to her color preference. What was Walt really keeping in the dark?

Instead, Chilton clenched the strip of cloth in his hand, resenting the command he would comply with -- once they hit the wooded area.]

I presume you're referring to Will. [As if Chilton had any other friends associated with the FBI.] He isn't much of a conversationalist when one isn't being driven to a secret hideaway. I imagine this would be worse.

[And he didn't want Will to be concerned. This was an important session, an essential one, and he didn't want interference. Moreover, the following day was Will's session -- there was no reason to muddle that ball of neuroses with concern.]

So Pinkman doesn't know that you're about to show me your mutual safehouse. What are you going to say, when he finds out?

He won't find out.

[ Yeah, he probably will. ]

But even if he does, it'll be easier to deal with if I can assure him you can't find our place without me.

[ Walt sighed. ]

I'm ruining him, Chilton.

[ It was an out of place confession, but one that had been on his mind for a while -- especially since the last time Walt and Jesse went to the cabin. ]

My power, it's...

[ Walt frowned and shook his head. ]

He had a problem with drugs, you see....

[ It was hard to put this into words, to make Chilton understand what it was they did sometimes -- what Walt did to Jesse. And it was hard to explain his conflicted feelings over it or how it was getting easier to do each and every time. ]

I don't know how to say this. I guess the closest thing I can say is that I've become his heroin.

[ They reached the wooded area and Walt glanced over at Chilton expectantly -- hoping that he'll put on the blindfold while they have this conversation. ]

Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission?

[Not like Walt was presumed to have done much begging in his life, if the material henceforth was anything to illuminate. And as Walt continued to talk, about his concern, his relationship with Jesse, Chilton quieted his own speculation to listen. Such confessions deserved observant, attentive compatriots.

And there it was. Walt acknowledging the control he had over Pinkman.]

You feel guilty about the consequences of that, don't you? Guilty, yet unwilling to relinquish your hold. You won't submit him to detox --

[Chilton glanced out the window, taking a sharp breath at the oncoming sight of trees. Walt expected him to obey. The psychiatrist closed his eyes and tied the light blue fabric over them, knotting the ends.]

You like the control.

[ Walt released the breath he had been holding, having expected Chilton to put up a fight. So the fact that he complied was a great relief and one that meant a certain level of trust.

Walt quietly guided them through the trails, winding through the darkened forest. ]

I like that he needs me for something. There will come a time where he won't anymore. If he finds out this one thing that I did...

[ That Walt refused to say because giving Chilton that knowledge would be giving him extreme power over him. ]

...if he finds that out, he's going to hate me. But maybe if I do this for him, maybe even in spite of him finding out, he would need me.

[ He furrowed his brows. ]

But it doesn't make it feel any less wrong.

[ At that point, the car came to a stop. ]

We're here. Well, I have to open the gate, but you can take off the blindfold.

[Not a moment too soon. Chilton, eager to resume his sight, hurriedly untied the knot behind his head and let the fabric fall unto his lap. There was plenty more on the subject of Pinkman that he was determined to pursue, but this moment of transition from vehicle to secret cabin wasn't quite the moment.]

So what, do you share an agreed upon schedule? What if he's here, now, surreptitiously? With a girlfriend?

[Pinkman seemed the type to have a girlfriend, or two. Chilton wondered how Walt might take that situation.]

This is... Quite a property, Walt. [Indeed, something to impress even the image-conscious Chilton.] This is your little fiefdom from Pinkman's enterprise?

He wouldn't bring anyone here, Chilton. This is our place. He knows better than to bring someone from the outside into our world.

[ Unlike Walt who brought the very man who inspired the purchase of this safe house. He flashed a glance over at the psychiatrist before nodding. ]

Yes. He picked it out and purchased it. He knows exactly what's needed and he does it. I can trust him with that.

[ And Walt got out of the car, pulling the gate open manually before getting back in and driving through. He got out again to close it behind himself, and finally returned so they could park closer to the cabin. ]

I have to get the generator started. It'll only take a moment.

[ He got out and went to the side of the house, filling the tank with gasoline before pulling the ripcord. The motor revved and the generator kicked on seconds later, powering up the place. Walt returned to Chilton, nodding for him to follow as he went up to the door and unlocked it.

Walt's attention immediately landed on the patch of dried blood that discolored the wood floor near the entrance. His suicide attempt where Jesse took on the injury. They both bled a great deal and neither of them rushed to clean it right away, thus leaving behind its mark even after they took care of the worst of it.

Walt looked away, hoping not to draw attention to it. ]

Welcome to my place. Make yourself at home. Do you want a cup of tea? Or do you want me to cut straight to it and give you your presents first?

[He was glad that he had refrained from pointing out the hypocrisy of bringing himself to this apparently sacred place that Walt and Pinkman shared -- glad, because the reference to bequeathing something (something, plural) caught his immediate curiosity. The items, their meaning, what Walt intended -- giving and receiving were such raw psychological experiences.

So sharp was the inquisitive need, that Chilton kept his gaze focused on Walt. No drifting glances caught the ironed bloodstains -- not yet, anyway.]

What sort of presents might Heisenberg give his psychiatrist? Oh, I would like to know that indeed.

The reason Crane was able to attack you is because you had no defense, Chilton. I'm just giving you the defense. A little sample of the things I cooked up in my lab while the pharmacy was out of commission. Number one. And your first line of defense in the event of an immediate threat.

[ Walt reached into the breast pocket of his jacket, pulling out what looked like a small perfume bottle -- a little spray bottle full of a clear liquid. ]

Tabun. Do I need to explain to you what it does?

I'm familiar with the chemical. [But only in the abstract, only in passing. Just because Chilton didn't create compounds and pharmaceuticals didn't mean he did not know what the vast majority did. He committed himself to creating mind, and identities, and that dedication had drawn him away from the more surgical or the more mathematical arts.]

Who exactly do you anticipate me using this on? Crane isn't interested in repeat experiments, Walt.

[He reached out, cautiously, hesitantly, to take the petite perfume bottle.]

Are you anticipating more danger?

Do you honestly think just because Crane has exhausted his use on you, that you're in the clear? I know for a fact, you're a man who makes enemies. Why be unprepared? I'm not going to stand by and let anything happen to you again. Not on my watch.

[ Not before he gets his OWN revenge. Walt relinquishes his hold on the bottle. ]

Humor me at least and keep it with you. And if it comes down to using it, make absolutely sure you can hold your breath and get a safe distance. It's also water soluble and can be used as a poisoning agent -- if you have to go more preemptive. Which also leads me to gift number two.

[ He pulls out the tiniest vial full of white powder and sealed tightly with a cork. ]

Ricin. Just this tiny bit is all you'll need to deliver a fatal dose. I'm not sure how to counteract the impermanence of death in this world, but that particular formula is guaranteed to be a slow, painful death. It will put your enemy out of commission for some time. Of that, I'm certain.

[Chilton pulled back his fingers, softly wrapping them into his outstretched palm. He turned his head at the ricin offered, his eyes glued to the vial as his head moved by degree.]

Do you consider me to be a murderer?

[In fact, he was -- but Chilton could muster enough ambiguity to deny himself that truth. It was easier to claim innocence when you killed through people, or when you killed them accidentally. But he wasn't a hands-on breed of assassin. Indirect, distant methods, where someone else could take the fall -- that was preferable. And while poison maintained that discretion, it would still be Chilton's hand that tipped the vial.]

I know we've had our... Disagreements, Walt. But even during the worst of them, I had never intended to murder you. Even if that was a permanent solution.

[And thus was the moral nuance of Frederick Chilton: unethical, abusive, dehumanizing, but unwilling to outright murder if it meant weighing on him. He wasn't Hannibal Lecter, after all, or any of Lecter's little monstrosities.]

[ Was he joking? Walt gives Chilton a look of disbelief. And then he gets mildly offended. Here he went to all this effort to make these things, thinking they would help Chilton and Chilton's going to go play the morals card? What did Walt blow up his pharmacy for? Apart from keeping Crane out of it. ]

Fine. [ His hands close around the vial and he puts it back where it was. ] If you want to roll over and die, then that's your choice. Because someone will try to kill you again.

[ He turns away, opening the wood stove and jamming a log into it. Pennsylvania was still a bit chilly in the deep woods at night this time of year. Walt gets the fire started and without turning around, he says: ]

I thought you were better than that. I thought you were a survivor.

[He was losing Walter White. Chilton could tell from the curtain in Walt's voice that this wouldn't be a temporary fire on the bridge, that all of which Chilton had worked for and all the opportunities he had slithered his way into, all of that would be for naught; his sliver of moral hestitence had committed the most acute sin. Narcissistic injury.

Chilton calculated that he had seconds to make amends, or lose his most promising project.]

Walter -- wait.

[Chilton, pacing over, reached out his hand to gently touch Walt's shoulder.]

You're right. I -- should take precaution, regardless of the means inherent. They are, indeed, ultimately justified. I was simply -- I'm still a bit shaken up. The past weekend was not... Pleasant.

[He took a deep breath, his eyes focused on the back of Walt's head. Already Chilton resented the next two words to slip between his barely moving lips:]

I'm sorry.

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