24 ⚜ Anonymous Text / CW: abuse mentions

[restingstitchface]

Whether a man is a criminal or a hero is a matter of perspective.

But if you don't want to play your role anymore, and are removed from your motivation for being who you are, what do you do? Do you seek redemption and rehabilitation and transform as an individual, or do you repeat negative behavior? How much do you believe people change only because they are imPorted? In short, do you believe people can change?

If I had anybody willing to discuss this in private with me, I assure you, I'd not be raising the issue publically.

Thank you in advance.

Comments

[restingstitchface]

[Crane rubbed his chin a little. He had made Chilton bite his lure, smiles and all, but in comparison to challenging him the satisfaction was rather third rate.]

Serotonergic psychedelics. Primarily to assist psychotherapy.

[There is a wrinkle between his brows.]

Primarily, he is concerned with redirecting my work into therepetic practice, not therapeutic abuse. [A short tone. The idea seems to piss him off. Tastes bitter.] Given the formal necessity of clinical work, it has been limited to theoretical applications...

[Not that he cares about checking he is licensed but YOU KNOW.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

[Now that earned a caustic chuckle. Chilton shook his head, vulpine in showing his teeth, and exhaled with a pleased sigh.]

Oh my goodness. You are playing with a masochist.

[Clearly he enjoyed the slap of failure, and surely even Crane knew that. Chilton, in contrast, preferred to pick the battles he could win.]

When does tenacity end and delusion begin?

[It was, of course, a rhetorical question.]

[restingstitchface]

[He could be sarcastic, give a sincere answer, but he accepts Chilton's rhetorical question for what it is - publicly dissecting Bruce Wayne's faults.]

Oh, that's nothing. You should see the havoc he unleashes at night. Masochists do enjoy their hard games...

[He does, of course, IGNORE the double-entendre. Don't be disgusting, now.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

[He raised a single eyebrow.]

A less merciful man would inquire for details.

[And while Chilton was by no means merciful, he could be polite; simply alerting Crane to the fact that he had anchored meaning onto those words was not the same as prodding them.]

I am relieved you have him in good hands.

[restingstitchface]

[Crane folded his hands together in his lap; politely devouring the respect Chilton afforded him by caution. People always seemed to dislike that hunger being turned on them.

Careful, cautious Chilton.]

Obviously. Idle hands are the Devil's workshop, after all.

[He slyly cocked his head.]

And we've shared our fair attention of the Devil here, haven't we?

[Lucifer was a particularily fascinating example.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

Perhaps more than I might appreciate.

[Despite his better judgement, Chilton always encircled the Lucifer figure -- be he literal or figurative, his role would nevertheless be undeniably compelling. Chilton caught the orbit of such men, perhaps less in spite of and more because of his heretical nature.]

You have always seemed to come out in the good graces of demons, however, haven't you?

[restingstitchface]

Not always. The first time you deal with demons, you're bound to see your hands burned.

[He closes his eyes and focuses on everything but his hands. He could remember them stuck behind him. Could feel his lungs constricting under his straitjacket. He remembered why he had lost his freedom and who had made him too good an offer not to risk it.]

Science is no protection against them. You understand this, don't you?

[slightlyoffchilt]

Really? Are you so unobservant to sincerely ask that question?

[He didn't know it at the time, but he would rebuff the next Lucifer to walk through the Porter; Chilton had been forged through a hellfire and came out like Damascus steel.

He was something so much more than what he had been.]

I will give you the benefit of the doubt-- [He said with a smile, his skeptical sneer melting.] And say it was rhetorical. But rest assured, Doctor Crane, I will not fall prey to them again.

[Well -- not the literal demons. But Chilton had such a fondness for the human ones. He got to his feet, his smile more pronounced. Whatever had prickled his ego was now forgiven.]

I ought to be on my way, but this chat was illuminating. Part of me is delighted to see you back on track.

[A deep fondness for the human ones.]

[restingstitchface]

[Crane inhales deeply through his nose and grips his fingers together a little tighter; the reaction from yanking Chilton's chain had been caused by rhetorical questioning. The longer this conversation had flowed, the more oppressive it had become. The uncomfortable worry that another man was on his level, and all the concern over being stabbed in the back.

Better to do it first than be a victim.

But Chilton's acid words vanish first, and then his ire. He feels frustrated, but it doesn't show on his facade. He tingles everywhere but holds his nerve and politely bows his head.]

Thank you.

[Politeness, Jonathan. Control.]

I suppose this is good night, then. Goodnight, Frederick.

[Oh, he so much wanted to put doctor, but, control.]