expiationlogs | Hey who the hell is this guy? (Open & Closed)

[ A solid flash of canine as he grins. ]

I don't really like it either. I'd rather have a little chat! But it is what it is. This brave face you're putting on is plenty entertaining too.

[ Gogol takes his time circling around to the back of the chair. Temporarily out of sight in other words. After a pause he taps a seven beat rhythm against one of the knuckles on his captive's bound hands. Twinkle Twinkle little star. ]

I'm busy these days so I could leave you here. Then again, I could spare some time to peel your fingers off one by one for a souvenir! What are you thoughts—does that sound less boring? I want to be accommodating.

Uh, it’s not a brave face. I don’t make those. Crying and whining and pissing myself is kind of my whole game but I already know it’s not gonna work with you so I’m not botherin’.

I think you’re just mad that I called you mad. Which you are. The ‘Kech really pissed you off, huh?

[ at the threat, he does not bother hiding his panic remotely — his face contorts like that of a kicked dog’s, and he looks to gogol with big ‘ol eyes. ]

Oh come on, don’t do that… I need those to jerk off. Can’t you put on a nature documentary or something? Get me a friend maybe?

Ohhh, you got me! I guess I'm a liiiiittle mad. Who wouldn't be after getting shot once, twice... eh-? Just twice. Anyways, the point is someone had sticky fingers.

[ Is the obvious answer really it? Akechi at it again being Gogol's #1 hater. This is a little too far this time, though. He can move on from getting shot and even killed. If it's true then stealing the Overcoat is going to have the kind of consequences Akechi hasn't faced from Gogol yet. He was playing nice.

Gogol presses up against the back of the wooden chair and leans forward. Inclining his head to the side he aims to make eye contact. The angle casts a shadow over his smiling face. ]

You can't hands-off it? That's surprising.

[ sha-ming lapses into silence, squinting ever so slightly. he remembers it well — that akechi had said minato was there. shinjiro, too. nobody had wanted to disclose the gritty details, the sequence of events that night…

but sha-ming is smarter than he seems. so he calls it as he sees it. very calmly: ]

There’s somethin’ you aren’t saying.

[ a beat. ]

I know desperation when I see it. After all, I’m one of the most desperate bastards there is. You’re in some shit. Real shit. Stinky, nasty ass shit. Plenty of people in this city, people who’ve saved the damn world, mercs and magicians and superpowered teenagers…

And you kidnapped the one guy who can’t do a damn thing? The one nobody even notices to start with? Are you for real? Come on, thunder thighs… you’re a slave to your own human weakness and it shows.

[ his ankles, bound together, swing back and forth. ]

Whatever. I really don’t care what happened that night. But it sure gotcha. Scary, ain’t it? Having to weasel around in the shadows, hoping no one’ll see you… hoping nobody notices a damn thing. I treat it like a game of hide ‘n seek. Makes it easier that way.

[ and for that final question: ]

Do I look like I got somethin’ to rub up against– ohhh, so you thought about me jerking off for a second, huh…

Edited 2024-04-30 20:44 (UTC)

[ There's an irony in it being a man who masks himself but he doesn't hate when Sha-Ming decides to have a brain instead of being a stunningly stupid rolodex for workplace sexual harassment. To be called out with an inkling of intelligence present is nostalgic in a myriad of ways.

Sighing through his nose, Nikolai leans back up so Sha-Ming doesn't have that clear view of his face.

This world. This reality. "Ṟ̸͉̓e̷̱̹̭͋̚̚â̷̛̠͔͠l̸͎̬̪̅̕͝i̸͎̳͐̊͐t̶̯̟̾̉̐y̸̤̟̌͑̍.̵̰͗͆.̸̨͍̙̂̋̒.̸̧͈̫̈́̂ I̶̪͙̪͐t̶̂͜'̴̛̍͝ͅs̶̮͛ ̴͖͍͕̑̊̕y̷̟̩̬̓-̷͔͆ō̴̻̈́͝u̵̦̯̔,̵̰͇́̆r̶͉̺͒ ̸̡̼̞̚r̴̡̝̭̒e̴̠̦̻̔ą̴͚̘̒̈́l̴̂ͅ-̸͈̖͙̓i̸̭̹̘͛́͐t̷̳̰̀͂y̶̠͗́?̸̖̳̎͐?̸̜̉́̍ ̸͉͌" were words specifically designed to haunt him. The compulsion he can't escape, the one that's nestled in deep within his mind. The growing list of powerful captives who want repentance from a bird without wings to fly away from it with. Logically, they can't be blamed for that but it's a frightening concept when he is bound to the ground by the full force of gravity.

The voice that comes out of him sounds like normal. It's rightfully blithe given the context. He realizes it's his and returns to the present because there's no one else it could be. ]

Guilty as charged. You nailed it! As we speak I can hardly stop my hands from shaking. ...Have I really given you a reason to think I'm denying it?

Ehehehe, of course, I could be lying to you at this very second.

[ From where he'd exchanged it for the goggles earlier Nikolai picks up Sha-Ming's device from the small table. A distraction. This is all a wonderful distraction from what he needs to be doing right now.

There actually is a faint tremor that runs through his hand as he pinches the square between two fingers again. It peels off by the time Nikolai presses again against the back of the chair. With a cheerful hum now he holds his arm out in front of Sha-Ming to see the screen of his own device that Gogol took from him partway through the kidnapping. ]

Maybe. Anyways, gimme your code, 'kay? Let's have a looksee.

[ the man before him is not made of stone -- he shifts between masks, playing cards splayed out across the table, a royal flush, but the heart that beats there is still human. so long as something was alive, it could be exploited, weakened to its core. that's a simple tenant of biology. ]

You're scared. [ sha-ming says with a smile, lackadaisical and easy. ] Paranoia got the better of you. You're spiralin'. That's why you were stupid enough to hold a guy who couldn't even fight back hostage.

It's okay. I'm scared too. All the time. Right now. Yesterday, and the day before... Tomorrow, if it ever comes.

[ the phone clatters against the table; he hears it pass through the stranger's fingers, and sha-ming stares up, eyes flitting closed.

he sent that text to minato. minato, who had already been hurt once by this man -- minato, who would be compromised by this. he goes back to a time when the sun shone brightly, and a blackened, calloused hand clasped over his own, tracing the lines of his palm. ]

No.

[ it's stated simply, the corners of his lips tugging up softly. his features are benign with warmth; how strange. the expression is so unnatural for him, his facial muscles can't quite process it. ]

Kill me, torture me, keep me here... I'm not doing that.

[ "that kid deserves to live more than i do." ]

The dumbest thing about all of this is that I'm not mad 'atcha. I wish I was... I'd be a stronger person if I was, wouldn't I?

[ but he's not strong. he's never been strong. ]

But I just... can't blame you for wanting somethin' more from your own birth.

It's probably good that you aren't.

[ In a way he is actively listening to the words. Gives a thoughtful but detached sounding hum even. All of it is correct after all. It's just, you know, he's been capable of switching off and being very cruel for a long time. Why disappoint here?

Still there's resignation in his voice. ]

You know they don't tell you this! But when you die here and are brought back you fall apart for a bit. The first time I...

[ ...Had hands that reached out to steady him during the deluge of incorrect feelings and memories. It's one of the first rational thoughts he'd pieced together after he woke up this second time alone.

A long time had been spent sitting on the edge of the bed then. Time ticking by as he stared out the window until his stomach hurt with hunger--wondering what it was all even for.

Those hands don't exist here anymore. None of the ones that mattered the most do.

That's the white bear effect, a recent memory from someone he knows adds, and Gogol laughs out loud. ]

Neeevermind, forget all that for now. I actually do like you enough that it really feels like a struggle to do anything more to you!? But you being this obstinate means you're probably trying to hide something relevant right? I need to know how many beans you spilled.

[ He circles back around to the front. Doesn't look him in the eyes but spares Sha-Ming a wide closed mouth grin before bending at the waist to retrieve something from underneath the chair. There's a scraping of metal against the concrete floor. ]

Pop quiz! Are you right or left handed?

Edited (Wite..... listen it's 1:30AM) 2024-05-01 05:33 (UTC)

[ he lets him speak. the hesitation doesn't fall on deaf ears. what a strange man. always at odds with himself, endlessly oscillating back and forth between his own desires and vices.

that's human nature, isn't it? to be a paradox. sha-ming, shockingly, looks to be somewhat bored; maybe it's because he's spent his entire life imagining up these scenarios, playing them out in his head, terrified...

maybe it's because for once, he's made a decision that meant something. he thinks of the kid again -- that head of blue hair, always drifting off. memories of him tugging at the tail ends of his shirt as the sun bleeds into the horizon. all fake. all fabricated. he hates this city for giving him something he could never have.

but the brain was like that, wasn't it? claimed ownership of things that weren't real, would never be real. it exists in your mind -- isn't that enough? ]

Trick question. [ he answers, unenthused. ] You'll take off the hand ya want to take off. That simple, really.

[ left. if gogol remembers which hand had grasped his, it was left. ]

Tell me somethin'.

[ a beat. ]

Is it less painful to know you're gonna get taken out -- or to live in peace up until that exact second?

[ the question isn't for himself. ]

Yeowch!! You're visualizing something pretty violent huh? It's a hammer actually.

[ One he deposits off to the side on that helpful little table for the moment. Taking off something like a hand would mean Sha-Ming would bleed out pretty quickly. In a lot of cases the swift death could serve a purpose but this time it's counterproductive for sure. ]

To answer your question... It hurts a lot less to live life unaware. But that's not the dichotomy you're posing to me, is it?

[ Taking a moment to plant a hand on a chair arm he leans down to look Sha-Ming in the eyes on the same level. Not breaking the progressively softening gaze with him Nikolai reaches down to collect his bound hands. As he allows the thought experiment to percolate in his mind he pauses, and then turns the hands so the right one is on top.

Of course a detail like which hand Sha-Ming had been using wouldn't escape his notice. But he's free to think he is. ]

Truthfully I've considered if there's a way to resist by living peacefully.

[ Let the way the light leaves his visible eye as Nikolai thumbs at the knot on the rope bounding those hands answer that one. The answer in his non-answer. ]

Now then, I'm separating your hands so don't take the opportunity to resist.

[ this guy.

somehow, this is worse — drawn out, slow and steady. it’s an attempt to chip away at his psyche. trepidation swims in his veins, eyes trained on the hammer before flickering back to gogol.

he notes the way he fiddles with his hands; right over left. he should know it was left. that was the one he’d kissed.

strange man. the knot loosens, and sha-ming’s fingers flex instinctively. ]

Live a life of peace and it’ll get cut short. Odds of survival go down. And in that final moment, you realize… that none of it ever mattered, you know?

[ a beat. ]

But when you know somethin’… [ his eyes trail over the lines of his palms, mapping out creeks of flesh. ] you can’t unknow it — it sticks with you ‘till the day you fade outta existence.

[ his hands are pliable in gogol’s, head canted. ]

Hey.

[ another moment. ]

Don’t bother lettin’ me go. Whenever you’re done torturing me, go for the kill.

[ sha-ming’s expression dulls, contemplative. ]

‘M not suicidal. I wanna live… so bad, it hurts. I’m the worst kinda guy… the type who doesn’t have a reason to to start with, but does anyways.

[ a blink of his eyes, jaw shifting. ]

But I wanna know… how they felt when they died. I wanna know if it hurt.

Edited 2024-05-01 19:31 (UTC)

That's a little naive. If none of it had meaning you'd never realize there's injustice in living in the first place.

[ The hands are pliable, and as he muses out loud. It's half in response to what's been said and half to himself. With that same mindfulness he places Sha-Ming's left hand against the chair arm to tie it in place for the time being. Muscle memory works in his favor. ]

It hurts because you want to understand and be understood. We're the same in that regard.

[ In the moment a twisted and gnarled empathy decides to fulfill that death wish his expression shifts in degrees. There's no more sign of empathy. This is the killer with no capability for remorse in his heart. ]

Ehehehe ! Oh it's gonna hurt! So let's play a game and see how fast it gets you to cry your eyes out. I ask you a question and you give me a yes or no answer! It's suuuuper simple. So, ready?

[ Better be because they're starting even before Sha-Ming can confirm. That's quite the grip strength against Sha-Ming's wrist when Nikolai slams it onto the table. Poor wooden little thing groans in protest. It's totally unnecessary to flip the hammer and catch it one handed but is it really? ]

Be honest now! Did you give a description of me?

(when gogol just dropped on him that there was a guy in his basement, it took manjiro a little while to come see. mostly because it doesn't pertain to him, so there's nothing of interest to gain him. his empathy is great either - what he cares about is much related to who he cares about caring about things, if it's not manjiro's own shit to deal with.

therefore, he first woke up, had breakfast, stretched, who gives a fuck about the poor bastard and the clown, but he can hear the talk, and, oh, right, that is definitely happening.

shaming described the brunette gay, the European gay, here is the gang leader gay who looks much like a doll, big eyes and lashes and strawberry blond hair. he arrives to hear the cracks of joints and force against muscles, and to be fair? that does nothing for him, they're recognizable noises.)

So, this is the guy. What he do again?

Edited 2024-05-01 21:21 (UTC)

[ he knows it’s coming, but he doesn’t know when — to be understood, and to understand… was that truly what he wanted? he had forfeited his investment in those concepts long ago.

the stranger’s grip is unforgiving (also, he’s really strong, which is a little hot?) and sha-ming’s glasses slide off, the fringes of his hair spilling around his face. the weight of his goggles grounds him.

he looks up to gogol and grins. ]

Yeah.

[ a beat. ]

Told them all about those thunder thighs of yours. Careful, now everyone’s gonna be ogling yer legs when you go out now.

[ ah, there’s someone else here — how funny. he doesn’t even have the energy to plead with the new gay that entered through the door. ]

Edited 2024-05-01 21:33 (UTC)

Eh. I've seen better thighs.

(just a comment, proceed.)

Edited 2024-05-01 21:35 (UTC)

Me too, pal.

[ ?????????? ]

[ ????????????????????????????? ]

[ Gogol looks at the both of them like this for a hot second, hammer still sitting casually in his hand. Following every godless comment about his thighs that fluffy head of platinum hair mechanically turns to look at the person who said it. By the end of it all he's looking down at his own legs.

The most ominous sign of all is the little giggle he releases belatedly. ]

...Anywho, did you come down because you were bored~? Oooh, did you want to help? That's a good accomplice.

[ A point at Mikey with the hammer. It kind of feels accusatory for some reason? He's not going to forget the subpar rating of his thighs you little binch. Then Gogol moves on to half-heartedly tap-tap-taping the flat of the hammer against the table by Sha-Ming's fingers. ]

Next question! Are you trying to protect the person you sent that description to?

Edited (forget remembering,,,) 2024-05-02 01:58 (UTC)

[ sha-ming's eyes flit back from gogol and back to mikey, a brow quirking up. ]

What, you guys got a circus down here?

[ a GAY circus?

nonetheless, there's an undeniable sigh of relief that pushes past his lips. he'd expected to get the hammer for that. maybe he has more time than he thinks before the pain train rolls in. ]

Yeah, obviously. [ thoroughly unamused. ] Thought you'd ask me some harder questions like... no shit buddy.

Said the guy strapped to a chair like an animal. What are you, main attraction? Not interesting enough.

(woooooow look at those comebacks.

now, he does know who got the text. he also knows what was told. does he want to say it? that's the question.)

I got some answers to that, but you can keep torturing him or whatever your plan is. I just want him out by morning.

[ ... ]

[ This is not the vibe for a murder. It's a little too friendly. It confuses and obfuscates what's happening here. That's worse than just getting to it; when Sha-Ming has asked to die and Gogol has quietly agreed to it despite not really having a reason nor even wanting to do it. ]

[ The hammer is flipped over so the back end is facing forward. The part that's often referred to as the claw. Nikolai uses that end to smash down on and break Sha-Ming's pinky finger at the second knuckle just because.

Then without giving anyone much time to recover: ]

We're switching up the rules! You better start answering my questions before Mikey can or you lose.

[ He locks eyes with Mikey here, actually. There's a cruel smile on his face and no light in his eyes. ]

Who'd he text?

Edited (slapping that CW in there real quick) 2024-05-02 22:28 (UTC)

[ that had been the goal -- to obfuscate. the tension comes to a head, and suddenly the hammer clatters against the table, pain slinking up his hand. it's strange -- how human nerves work, how every bit of you feels what begins and ends at your fingers.

he fails to suppress a yelp, eyes alight with panic. more agonizing than the pain is the realization that somebody knows -- how did he know? had minato told somebody, put out a notice, sent a message...?

fuck. his blood is freezing over, and he feels it: fear. raw, primal fear. heartbeat in his ears now. think, think. ]

My little brother!

[ he finally admits. a half lie, a half truth. a reality only in his own mind, but a falsehood to everyone else. an attempt at obfuscation, at muddling the situation. ]

He's just a kid, and he's the only family I got. He's not gonna do anything. [ breath shuddering now: ] So just-- leave him the fuck alone.

(you know? this isn't half bad. it's not the first hard beatdown he has partaken in, although to be fair, most of them have been for the sake of it. manjiro has a whole division that deals with traitors and whatever at home, this is a little below his paygrade. it must mean something that he doesn't even flinch with how that finger is smashed, or the pain that sha-ming sings out.

instead, he comes closer to sit on the floor.)

Bullshit. No one likes a liar. He told a friend of mine, and that friend posted it out of concern.

(he's also uninterested in giving minato's name, if sha-ming pays attention to that.)

Ohh I see~

[ Ironically, if it had been left at the information about the brother he might've let the obfuscation lead them to somewhere else. It's because additional details are offered without further prompting that it becomes complicated enough for Nikolai to take a moment to give it all a good think.

A contemplative gaze lifts up at the ceiling. He passively observes the rotting beams and thinks but it only takes a moment before he smiles again. ]

If someone has already put the description out there it's a lot more suspicious to eliminate that person afterwards. This is actually something anyone could infer. It's also common for family to feel so desperate that they go ahead and ask for help without thinking about consequences.

So why—

[ and a laugh escapes him. His gaze slides back down to the both of them without him righting his head back to it's original position—it remains tilted back. ]

Would he really need someone else to post on his behalf?

[ sha-ming notes it immediately -- and if mikey spares a glance at him, he'll see the relief washing over his features, body visibly relaxing in real time. "i owe you," his eyes speak into the silence. ]

...I didn't know he was gonna do that.

[ he looks down. ]

I didn't think he'd give a shit to start with.

[ a moment passes, drawn out before his mouth parts again. ]

He doesn't have any reason to, so I just...

Hey who the hell is this guy? (Open & Closed)

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Everyday I die a thousand deaths reading the dialogue you send my way

for what it’s worth “how to jerk off without hands or pillow” is in my google history bc of u

It's an honor

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1/2

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hi

welcome to chilli’s

sorry

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CW: finger trauma

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CW Strangulation

cw death