curiously | open rp post

There's a first time for everything.

But I understand if you're afraid to risk it. After all, outside a trial, the rules are a little more ... flexible.

I can only assume with what you mean by flexible, but go ahead and elaborate.

I'd love to, but it's really something that's better demonstrated, or at least explained face to face. Words on a screen just don't have the same effect.

As much as I would love a personal one-on-one interview with a killer I'm going to have to decline. I've seen my fair share of masked people with knives at this point. A bit oversaturated, don't you think?

I was using mine well before most of the rest of them. I'd say they copied me, except that almost everyone is at minimum from ten years before I was out and about.

But let me know if you ever change your mind. I'm happy to explain the lack of rules out here, as long as it's in person. Maybe if we hit it off you can get a real interview with me.

That so. What year did you come from then?

And I have a requirement should we ever meet up voluntarily. Otherwise it'll have to be a surprise from either of us.

[ zarina's already making a few notes to herself. 1) protection should he ever bring out his knife, which means bringing her armored jacket; 2) don't trust him, and; 3) becareful of her visits to certain realms as she absolutely refuses to be followed.

curiosity, once again, wins over fear. ]

1993.

A 'requirement'? Do tell.

[ He's got some ideas, which he may or may not be willing to humor, but he's a lot more likely to just try and find her the next time she goes into the fog.

Or steal something from her and lure her out. One way or another. ]

[ how interesting. he actually gives a date — one she already hastily writes down with the important note of *may be lying at the end. ]

Hand over the knife, handle to me, and I'll consider. Don't worry about me throwing it, I'll give it back when we're done.

[ One day, someone's going to recognize the connection between the date and his mask. One day. ]

That's one hell of an expectation for someone I've killed before. You might 'give it back' by trying to put it in my chest, and where would I be then?

Here's the thing: I'm not a murderer like you. Not interested in stabbing people, not interested in stabbing anyone.

It's to keep you in check while we chat.

Everyone says that, right up until someone's coming for their throat.

I'll consider it. Maybe in the future, when I feel like I can trust you to not just run off with it. Or, if you're willing to take another risk, make it a mutual trade. Your fancy little recorder for my knife.

[ a short delay before she replyes; already zarina begins to erase all her current recordings from it. no need for him to know certain details about her current affairs, after all.

everything's in her notebook by now with the rest behind her lips. ]

Sounds almost like a deal. So long as you're not bringing an extra knife hidden somewhere beneath all that leather you have on.

[ He was only half expecting a positive reply. Is there anything of worth on that recorder? Might be a chance to find out, or not - if he wants to try this again later. ]

I'm a one-knife kind of guy. Bring two and someone might try to snatch the spare off me.

When you're ready to give it a shot, head into the fog and let me know where you end up. If I'm not otherwise occupied, I'll come find you.

[ ✔️ erase recordings
✔️ leave camera(s) and necklace behind
✔️ bring a new notepad and pen

zarina makes sure to double check everything prior to replying: ]

And if I said I'm free now?

That's quick change of heart.

I'm available. Send me a message when you're settled. Preferably somewhere that the local resident isn't going to run across us and gut us, if you don't mind.

It's the you without a knife that sealed the deal.

Autohaven it is.

[ glenvale had been her first thought with how familiar she is with the town at this point, but no need to worry anyone — this is her issue, her curiosity that takes over despite her claiming that people in white masks and knives being a bore.

her curiosity, after all, is how she ends up in the entity's hands. ]

[ Autohaven isn't hard to find, and it's a halfway decent place to meet up, on the grounds that Philip isn't usually there - or at least, apparently isn't usually there. He sneaks his way in, looking for anything out of place, and finds it.

Curious about her curiosity and interested in making this a slightly more regular thing if it goes well, he sheds his stealth and approaches Zarina from the side. The moonlight above casts long shadows, but it's the fires in the barrels that light up his mask as he steps out of the darkness. The straps on his coat float idly behind him, as usual.

He keeps his distance - enough that he can't quite lunge in for a hit, which should be enough to make her feel like he might keep his word. He doesn't take the knife out yet, though. ]

You showed.

[ The surprise is fake. Someone like her wouldn't back down. From what he's heard, she ended up here because she went too far. Not the only one, he knows. ]

[ the entity can be absolutely fucking ridiculous when it wants to be, like changing her clothes and jewellery to when she went to an award ceremony. this time its variant ivory instead of a russet brown or mint.

a small messenger bag rests by her side with a hand sticking out already. ]

I did. Now: Knife. [ and: ] Handle first.

[ the ghost face doesn't scare her, or at least that's what she tells herself. there are more terrifying killers out there and he is not one of them.

they're words that echo in her mind that try to fight slowly tightening muscles. ]

[ He eyes the outfit, but doesn't comment - yet, anyway. The Entity has its own strange ways of handling things.

Her outstretched hand, though, is another matter. He carefully pulls the knife out of its sheathe. Greenish moonlight glints off the razor edge of the blade. But he still doesn't hand it over. ]

Let's see that recorder first. Mutual trade-off.

[ Which, should she produce it, he'll keep to, flipping the knife around to let her take it from him even if a large part of him really doesn't want to do it. It's his knife, after all. The one that's killed so many people, even before this place. ]

[ eyes narrow as eyes shift towards the unsheathed knife, a hand slipping into the leather bag before pulling out a fully charged recorder with the mic bulb attached already.

had anyone known she'd be going here — no one does — they would probably tell her that meeting the ghost face is a terrible, terrible idea. on the other hand, meeting terrible people is part of her career when she strives for the truth.

can she really trust the man in front of her for at least five minutes? ]

Got plans for it or are you keeping it like how I'm holding onto your knife?

[ zarina holds the recorder out with the base pointing towards the killer. ]

[ He takes the recorder and trades it for the knife. He'd be tempted to keep it for himself, if he didn't know that would mean he'd have to dig up another knife. It's a simple device, a lot smaller and sleeker than he remembers using. ]

Unless you want to record this conversation for reference later, I wasn't planning on it. [ She's undoubtedly already removed anything that might be useful on it. Regardless, he turns it over in his hand, figuring it out. ] I just wanted to make sure you give the knife back. Properly.

[ After a few seconds of reviewing it, he looks up at Zarina, eyes fixed on her through the mask. ]

Love the outfit, by the way.

Thank the Entity for making us play dress up half the time. You wore a Halloween costume once, right?

[ the simple black cloak that she remembers during a trial before, but time is no one's friend in this world so she loses count how long ago it's been. the sun and moon refuse to move from their spots in the sky, the constant rain in the forests, the never-ending fog that she learns how to navigate after a time — not even the watch she gains in the strange greek-inspired clothing works.

once the blade's in her hand, zarina takes a step back with her eyes on ghost face before looking towards the weapon. already recalling the way it sinks into her back before a flash of light prior to finally dying, she wonders — ]

What made you want to start killing people?

[ zarina takes a seat on the hood of a car close by. ]

Sure. It was something I picked up back in the world, though.

[ The costume that might have done okay for keeping him hidden but was way to cumbersome and prone to getting caught on things for more than one or two uses. Still, it made the headlines even more than usual.

When Zarina sits, he stays standing, completely still aside from the very faint hints that he's breathing and the straps off his coat that perpetually float behind him. Their movements, for the moment, are as idle and silent as ever. He watches her, listens to her, smiles to himself a little and turns the recorder over in his hand again. ]

Does there have to be a reason? I know it makes things easier to process, but that's not always going to be the case.

What, did you just decide to stab someone out of the blue when you were a child?

[ does she expect a straight answer from him with her questions? not at all. not with what she knows of the man she's met during their numerous trials. on the other hand, she's fresh blood in comparison to the likes of bill or meg.

they always give such interesting stories.

palm wrapped around the handle of the knife, she holds onto it in mid-air and turns it around to see if there are any interesting markings on it. perhaps anything personal she can note. ]

It's a possibility.

[ Vague, as always, just because he can be. He's not going to give that much of a straight answer yet; why he kills isn't a huge secret to him, but it's always worth trying to wring some information out of someone first before he tells them, or make them really dig for it.

The knife is a standrd tactical knife. No custom adjustments made to it, no personalized engravings. Black and silver, the blade a little scratched but the razor edge as finely-honed as ever. The grip is a little worn down in the places where he grips it, but not enough to be so noticeable unless someone's really looking - like Zarina is.

There was never any point to leaving something unique to himself on it, even fingerprints. That way, if he ever lost it, the police would have to search every store that sold knives in the country to find a lead on whose it was. He watches her look it over, just slightly smug. ]

Like it? There's really something to be said for a weapon like that. It doesn't have the reach, but it's just as effective as anyone else's.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject