DROP IN PROMPTS, PICTURES, OLD THREADS, A POST OR EVEN TFLN BRING IT. ( cw: body horror, gore, violence & etc. in some threads + please label threads for such. )
[ he certainly knows Zarina's stubbornness very well. This conversation's only been more proof. Now that it's moved away from the trials though, he's not in a hurry to spend more time talking about them again. It won't be long until he's called to another one. ]
i have the clown was one of the first killers i met here came rolling in with his caravan and horse and didnt waste a minute before introducing himself told me he missed the sun and asked if he could stay a little while and seeing how i had a whole saloon full of drink wouldnt i be willing to trade some of it for information about the fog?
[ all of that accompanied by so much wheezing and coughing like the man was about to hack up his lungs along with his next word. Caleb remembers his incredulity. They had met when he still saw the fog as a sort of purgatory, and the other killers as like him, punishing people who'd wronged them in their own trials. Who did someone like this have to revenge himself on? ]
well i did learn some things but he didnt end up staying wore out his welcome too quickly for that
[ and it wasn't just with the off-color jokes and the forced friendliness. Caleb also saw something he didn't like under the greasepaint, tipped off to it by years of being around and dealing with unsavory folk. Later—much later, after the Entity's influence faded—he realized he'd been right on the mark. Especially once he overheard survivors whispering in their true voices about what the Clown did to them in and out of his trials. What the other killer sought hadn't actually been sunlight and liquor. No, he'd wanted the survivors. The ones who'd be enticed into Glenvale by those very same things. The ones who already knew to stay well away from the corner of the smoke-choked realm he usually squatted in—but hadn't yet learned to approach the ghost town with the same caution.
As much as he detests the cage the Entity crafted for him, he isn't going to let someone like the Clown exploit it for his own disgusting desires. ]
met the doctor while i was passing through to somewhere else he was more interested in asking me questions about myself and such instead of answering any of mine but at the end he did offer to acquaint me with his research
[ and the machines that interested you so much, Mr. Quinn, he'd said in a voice Caleb never heard aloud. It buzzed and crackled inside his head instead, each syllable somehow splitting and not quite matching back up in time, quiet yet perfectly audible despite the deafening clanks from the many monitors moving above them. And beneath it all, a threat of laughter. ]
polite as he was i had to turn him down if you tried talking to him i dont think hed give you a choice
I talked to the Doctor once when he sent me a text. Got a headache after five minutes, so I'm not bothering with that again for a while like the Huntress, maybe. With her however, I figure I might have a better chance after clearing things up.
Most definitely not planning to talk to the Clown. Observe, maybe. I still need to figure out a proper back up plan. I'm wondering if I can find a gas mask and if it'll help against whatever toxins he throws at us. Maybe it'll work in a trial.
[ for a while doesn't mean forever despite how the doctor has been with the last time they communicated with each other. not when zarina's curiosity is far too powerful to reel herself back in — she wouldn't be in the entity's realm if it weren't for that very factor. she wouldn't have met others stuck alongside her. she wouldn't have met caleb quinn.
maybe she would be home in her apartment working on a completely different project or with her mother instead of being swept away by cold fog, like it does now as she sits by the fire with several others. ]
Speaking of, I'm being called by the Entity for another trial. Thanks for listening, Caleb.
[ another trial. Caleb frowns slightly and glances at the saloon's doorway. Outside, a tumbleweed rolls lazily down the dirt street, accompanied by a gust of wind that stirs up the fog and sets it swirling with reddish dust. No sign of it gathering to enter. Whoever the killer awaiting Zarina is, it isn't him. Well, that's fine.
Isn't it? ]
aint no need to thank me for that
[ considering he started this conversation by mocking her. Yet as out-of-place as that sentiment feels to him, he can still appreciate it. ]
just learn to keep your head down especially when youre round those hatchets or bottles
[ or a certain speargun, for that matter. But there's not much point telling her to be wary of the Redeemer when he hasn't ( purposely ) put her in its sights for a while now during his trials. And when she's visiting him outside of one... the thought never even crosses his mind. ]
no subject
i have
the clown was one of the first killers i met here
came rolling in with his caravan and horse and didnt waste a minute before introducing himself
told me he missed the sun and asked if he could stay a little while
and seeing how i had a whole saloon full of drink wouldnt i be willing to trade some of it for information about the fog?
[ all of that accompanied by so much wheezing and coughing like the man was about to hack up his lungs along with his next word. Caleb remembers his incredulity. They had met when he still saw the fog as a sort of purgatory, and the other killers as like him, punishing people who'd wronged them in their own trials. Who did someone like this have to revenge himself on? ]
well i did learn some things but he didnt end up staying
wore out his welcome too quickly for that
[ and it wasn't just with the off-color jokes and the forced friendliness. Caleb also saw something he didn't like under the greasepaint, tipped off to it by years of being around and dealing with unsavory folk. Later—much later, after the Entity's influence faded—he realized he'd been right on the mark. Especially once he overheard survivors whispering in their true voices about what the Clown did to them in and out of his trials. What the other killer sought hadn't actually been sunlight and liquor. No, he'd wanted the survivors. The ones who'd be enticed into Glenvale by those very same things. The ones who already knew to stay well away from the corner of the smoke-choked realm he usually squatted in—but hadn't yet learned to approach the ghost town with the same caution.
As much as he detests the cage the Entity crafted for him, he isn't going to let someone like the Clown exploit it for his own disgusting desires. ]
met the doctor while i was passing through to somewhere else
he was more interested in asking me questions about myself and such instead of answering any of mine
but at the end he did offer to acquaint me with his research
[ and the machines that interested you so much, Mr. Quinn, he'd said in a voice Caleb never heard aloud. It buzzed and crackled inside his head instead, each syllable somehow splitting and not quite matching back up in time, quiet yet perfectly audible despite the deafening clanks from the many monitors moving above them. And beneath it all, a threat of laughter. ]
polite as he was i had to turn him down
if you tried talking to him i dont think hed give you a choice
no subject
Most definitely not planning to talk to the Clown. Observe, maybe. I still need to figure out a proper back up plan. I'm wondering if I can find a gas mask and if it'll help against whatever toxins he throws at us. Maybe it'll work in a trial.
[ for a while doesn't mean forever despite how the doctor has been with the last time they communicated with each other. not when zarina's curiosity is far too powerful to reel herself back in — she wouldn't be in the entity's realm if it weren't for that very factor. she wouldn't have met others stuck alongside her. she wouldn't have met caleb quinn.
maybe she would be home in her apartment working on a completely different project or with her mother instead of being swept away by cold fog, like it does now as she sits by the fire with several others. ]
Speaking of, I'm being called by the Entity for another trial. Thanks for listening, Caleb.
no subject
Isn't it? ]
aint no need to thank me for that
[ considering he started this conversation by mocking her. Yet as out-of-place as that sentiment feels to him, he can still appreciate it. ]
just learn to keep your head down
especially when youre round those hatchets or bottles
[ or a certain speargun, for that matter. But there's not much point telling her to be wary of the Redeemer when he hasn't ( purposely ) put her in its sights for a while now during his trials. And when she's visiting him outside of one... the thought never even crosses his mind. ]