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

[quizpersona]

Who: A man who isn't going by "Gogol" right now
Where: Aldrip (now with better accuracy!) The Inn, an abandoned house at the edges of town, at a diner.
What: The assorted shenanigans related to a certain local murder clown who has faked his own perma-death to assume a different identity. There will be various toplevels in the comments. This is "closed-ish" because it's not 100% closed but there's a lot of ooc plotting and scheming going on so please come join in on the plotting scheming instead of blitzing in with a "hey you guys that's obviously Gogol" when other people are investigating.

Getting short-lived CR with the nice, helpful, and well-mannered salaryman is 100% open though because frankly that's funny.

Edit: now including a top level for his sentencing failure.

Warnings: Kidnapping, nsfw dialogue, law advice for the dubious, torture (includes finger trauma).

Comments

[bonobos]

You really think so?

[ sha-ming rocks back onto his heels, head canted and inclined forward with no respect for this man's boundaries -- despite everything, despite how evidently uncomfortable he is, he doesn't protest. isn't that completely and utterly pathetic? so contrary to the nikolai he knew. somehow, it picks at his heart, but he would sooner keel over than admit as much. ]

Fiction? Pretty sure that happens all the time, pal. The human consciousness is a really fragile thing.

[ a thumb sweeps against the lapel of the salaryman's suit, letting the fabric pass between the pads of his fingers. ]

The guy I'm talkin' about... do you wish you were him?

[ his smile makes a comeback, manifesting against the contours of his face, benign in spite of the context. ]

Maybe he wishes he was like you. People like you 'ave practically given up on standing out -- you play the cards you're dealt, think that being a good boy'll get you where you want to be... but that's just not how it works. It's a dog eat dog world, you know? Give anyone the power to crush you and they'll take it.

Mr. Salaryman. Do you wanna be happy?

[quizpersona]

[ Again, it's like this guy is insulting his character for being a lawful and contributing member of society. It's a struggle to maintain a polite facade when all his face wants to do is crumble in a way that shows that he's beginning to actually take some offense here. Every little part of his stiff body language screams of discomfort- to the point that it must be felt physically. At the very least that question is a little easier to stomach answering since it's worded in a more palatable way than the first was. Perhaps that's why he humors it with a response this time. ]

...Of course. Don't most people want to live a happy and fulfilling life?

[ There's a perceptible bafflement in the words, as if it's strange to think about life otherwise. Happiness: he's said so before but— Nikolai would answer this question differently. He would say that he would condemn it again if it meant he got to prove his point about humanity. ]

I don't know him. So I can't say that I do. Uh, especially not because it sounds like you're describing a dangerous criminal? [ The Salaryman then mutters and looks down at the fingers gliding along his lapel. ] Hey, uh, could you please stop that...? You might crease the fabric.

[bonobos]

[ the answer makes him laugh — it’s a low sound, reverberating in his breastbone, warmth lapping at its edges. it’s such a human answer, he can’t really begrudge him for it. ]

Yeah, true enough. I think the universe makes it pretty damn hard though. Don’t you think?

[ then there’s a demand, and sha-ming’s mouth thins out into a bored slat. his fingers part from the suit — he can be a good boy too. ]

Look at ya, giving orders. You’ll be a pro in no time.

[ he’s amused, really, but he isn’t as kind as to give the salaryman a breadth of space either. he’s not quite out of his conversation yet. ]

Do you think not being noticed’ll save you, Mr. Salaryman?

[ there’s a lilt in his voice, like he’s align with the curiosity of a teenage boy, ambling around you, kicking at your ankles. ]

Let’s say there’s a murderer on the loose. And you just watched him kill all your friends. So you hide in the bushes. You can’t come out or else he might do something to you too. So you sit there, useless as all hell, a total coward, watching. You could spend the rest of yer life in that bush, yanno? Just hiding. It’s how you stayed safe then, it’s how you’ll stay safe now.

So the less you stick out, the better. Guys like you are the safest there are.

[ a smile, overjoyed and frigid with condescension. ]

But for some reason, I feel like… you don’t really like that? Like there’s this part of you that really wants someone to notice you.

That why you’re getting all dressed up today? Do you want someone’s eyes to get all big… to say hey— I just can’t get him out of my mind?