curiously | open rp post

[ 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.

[ a soft, disappointed sigh; of course he doesn't give a definitive answer. the ghost face wears a mask and long enough clothing to hide his whole identity and not leave any significant marks.

it's aged, looking at the handle of the knife while getting a feel of it at the same time. this is already his go-to weapon — something he's had for quite a long time, zarina assumes. was it with him since his first kill? a replacement earlier on? or maybe it belongs to someone else who's used it many times over?

once again, like with the cowboy, various questions form in her mind as the tip of her nails tap against cold steel as she listens to what else the ghost face has to say: anything but himself. ]

I don't know. Being shot by a harpoon is plenty painful. [ the way she dies upon her first time arriving... hard to forget. ] Admittedly more professional than a kitchen knife or what the Legion uses.

[ she adds: ]

Ever used another weapon or tactic to kill before?

[ Survivors aren't going to compliment a killer to their face, obviously, and Danny was expecting her to brush him off. It's pretty much the standard procedure around here. Zarina's words don't surprise him, but he does tilt his head a little when she calls it professional, because he'll take praise where he finds it. Not that his ego's ever needed the boost.

Of course, it comes after a little dismissal in comparison to Caleb, but then again, the two of them showed up at the same time; the first death is always going to leave the deepest mark. ]

Thank you. [ There's only a hint of a sardonic edge there. ] He designed that spear to hurt, not really to kill, so that's where the difference lies.

[ The question makes him watch her, still turning her recorder in his fingers. The buttons give a little under his thumb, and he tries to feel out which are which through the leather of his glove. ]

Weapon, occasionally. But it was always a knife in the same vein. Tactic? Not really. Once I found what worked best, there was no reason to deviate. People almost never caught on, and they weren't subtle when they did.

Almost? [ a brow raises as eyes shift towards the ghost face. there's the slightest tilt of her head to the side. ] So you were caught before?

[ the devil is in the details, right? every choice of word mentioned is important for zarina. if not caught before, then almost means that he was that close to being caught as the knife-wielding murderer that becomes an urban legend by her time. there's no memory of him ever disappearing, but she's certain there's not been news of his capture as well.

though it's impossible to read the man's face, zarina makes sure to note down body language the same way she interviews everyone else while the camera rolls. ]

How?

[ A part of him is offended that she'd even consider he might be captured, but then again, most of them were. Either caught alive and rotted in jail, or caught dead, preferring their own way out rather than risk prison time. He never really thought about which way he'd take, primarily because he knew he'd never be caught.

The only outward sign of any displeasure is the way her recorder stops moving in his hand, suddenly gripped a little tighter. ]

I was never caught. People caught on. [ He watches the way she's holding his knife, just in case she decides there's worth in risking a stab. Or running like hell. ] Little details, being unavailable at a time I should have been around, knowing a little too much ... but as soon as people started connecting the dots, I'd leave. There was never any solid evidence I didn't leave by choice.

[ Not that he always left when he was ready, but there's no point in letting Zarina know that. ]

[ "Little details, being unavailable at a time I should have been around, knowing a little too much..." she hears him say, and already zarina wishes she was the one with the recorder turned on. they're little details given that she both makes sure to remember to write down later, and to remember that he may be lying with every word that comes out of his mouth. notes to remember later and cross reference with anything else in the future, find out if the ghost face slips, find out if anyone else knows certain things about him that conflict or correlate.

it's basically her work all over again; an intrigued hum leaves her throat. ]

What exactly was your day job before you had to leave it?

[ a door to door salesman? no. from what it sounds like, it's a job that has him go to the office everyday with growing familiarity among co-workers. more guessing in her mind as she holds onto the knife with one hand, her thumb controlling how it rotates with her other hand holding the blunt end of the weapon not-so-tightly. ]

[ Her attention keeps his attitude level for the moment; still interested in her and what she's asking, thanks to her interest in him and what he's saying. Will she remember every word? He's pretty sure. Even without the record, which slowly moves in his hand again as the flicker of offense fades.

The question makes him tilt his head. He debates giving her the answer, but why let her know so easily? Zarina's the inquisitive type; she'll dig, he bets, until she hits paydirt. ]

Why don't you try to guess? I'll tell you if you're getting warm.

[ As if he's given her much to work with. But when was the last time he played nice? ]

There was only ever the one, no matter where I went. It's a job you could find anywhere in the world, if you were good enough.

[ Because that narrows it down. ]

[ ah, another dangerous mean equals another game. on one hand, she's the one with the weapon. on the other, this is just a conversation where she prospects for nuggets of gold. with a smile on her face: ]

Mailman?

[ a joke, of course, with how she lets out a soft chuckle. it's for two reasons: 1) to see his reaction, and; 2) for a better sense of relaxation. ]

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sorry for the delay!

no problem!

bless :*

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