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

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

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).

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

The Docks
i. Scene of A Crime

[ The sound of the waves wasn’t so gentle the last time he was here. This time as the dockworkers find a lost looking secretary (art credit) wandering aimlessly around the docks it’s not really all that peaceful either. ]

Um, S-

[ Because one of the more ornery construction works is right in the middle of accusing that suited man of being a stowaway. He’s hardly able to get a word in before he gets interrupted each time. ]

Sorry, I’m not- Uh, I’m sorry but I’m not a stowaway–

[ The man’s stature shrinks in on itself. This interaction with one of the locals is probably a lot for a new arrival to deal with, don’t you think? ]

ii. Natural habitat of a salary man

[ It's much later when that secretary can be found quietly lamenting in Bar Lupin of all the places. Dejected he's got a drink cupped between his hands. A few moments pass before he sighs quietly to himself before shifting the drink over to rest his forehead on the bar counter. ]

Aldrip’s Best Friends Race

[ Like of course he ends up in the audience for various shows and competitions going on. Until anyone interacts with him directly his exact reaction for all of it is like this:🧍‍♂️ ]

Community Service (sidequesting)
i. wow, who could have done this?

[ So there’s this collapsing factory for some reason? Right in the entertainment district for the newbies to run across. With all those businesses and individuals giving out quests earlier he’s surprised the clean up for this wasn’t one of them. ]

This calls for some initiative.

[ He says aloud, rolling his sleeves up to the elbow to start moving around some of the debris and rubble. There’s some hissing going on under some of it but it doesn’t really seem like he’s paying attention to it? ]

ii. Here kitty kitty…

…Please?

[ Exasperated, he’s trying to negotiate with a cat in a tree. That cat looks like it’s more likely to machine gun smack his face than come down peacefully. Having so many cats go missing at once is a silly little recursion that the council is putting on for them, he thinks, and then compartmentalizes it quickly because that’s not the kind of thinking he’s doing right now. ]

[ Hey this is a top level for any kind of investigation going on re: the disappearance and/or how the hell he committed organ crimes. Enrichment in the enclosure for the detective-types. You tell me where or what and I tell you... secrets. ]

[ sha-ming is at the bar — it’s notably quiet today, save for the faint bustle of the regulars trickling in for happy hour.

he blends in easily; he prefers it that way, just slinking into the shadows with a good drink in hand. but there’s this… very seemingly pathetic man next to him. more pathetic than he is, in fact! it’s a little disconcerting.

so sha-ming leans in — and nudges him with his foot. ]

Hey buddy, lighten up. You’re so depressed, it’s gettin’ me all depressed too.

[ a raise of the hand. ]

Barkeep, get me and my friend the hardest things you’ve got. We’re gettin’ liiiiit tonight.

[ Oh. Oh this guy is talking to him. Is he? Something bumps into his foot suddenly and that makes him flinch and sit up straight with a hint of shame. Probably "subconsciously" at being caught slacking. It sounds pretty natural that an apology comes out of his mouth without thinking— ]

Sorry. Uhm,

[ Folding his hands in his lap he bows his head with a contrite heart... or at least meant to but Sha-Ming is leaning into his space. So instead that motion gets interrupted as he subtly tries to lean back to regain some space.

Readjusting those thick rimmed glasses he speaks with uncertainty. ]

I appreciate that thought. [ Then he clears his throat like it makes him nervous to tell anyone no. ] ...But everything is so unfamiliar right now and I really can't hold my liquor that well.

C’mon, don’t get shy on me now.

[ with NO regard for his personal boundaries or well-being, sha-ming minimizes the distance and very sleazily loops an arm around him — they’re… something now. together! and that’s all that matters, doesn’t it?

sha-ming squeezes his shoulder. ]

Oh wow, you’re kinda built for a salaryman? Bet you could get laid in no time.

[ these were priorities. the key to happiness, truly. ]

There’s no better way to get used to your surroundings than getting totally shitfaced. Yeah, that’s what all them philosophers said.

[ a beat. the barkeep slides down two glasses across the counter, both smelling strongly of alcohol. ]

Forget your sad little life and have some fun, babe!

[ By the second pass there's a disbelieving sound—somewhere caught between a scoff, a cough, and not quite the beginning of a laugh he stifles immediately. There's an effort to quickly cover up that almost blunder with a snip of the drink that the barkeep just put in front of them. Poor guy must be parched? It could easily be misconstrued as a more pure man choking on that audacity.

But there is a more internal part of him that finds this entertaining.

For what it's worth he doesn't shrug Sha-Ming off either. The posture kind of implies that he's accepting this fate because the path of non-resistance is the path to overcoming adversity. He cups this second drink in both hands like it's his emotional support in this moment of adversity. ]

I haven't heard that before... I don't mean to question you but are you sure? It doesn't sound like I can escape the accusation on the pamphlet they gave me?

[ the sound borders on the wisp of a laugh and the throes of a dry cough, and sha-ming gives the man a wary lookover, eyes firmly trained on his face. uh, weird much?

but it's alright -- like a pig at a trough, he drinks up accordingly, and sha-ming takes a swig of his own drink in turn. ]

Damn, that's strong. [ thank gosh he's not paying for it. ] Yep, I'm 100% positive. They'll give you some stupid sentencing, but it'll be like... "find the goodness in your heart and help deliver a newborn baby this month!" Or some shit like that... I mean, you go crazy if you don't do it, but it could be worse? I was expecting torture. Or abuse. Or corporal punishment. Or execution. So like yeah.

[ he yanks him in juuuust a tad closer. they're practically tethered at the hip now; wow, this guy was firm around the edges. was this truly an average salaryman?

oh well. that's not his problem. ]

Let's have ourselves a boy's night! What'd they say a guy like you did anyways? Be too pathetic? Tax fraud? Have a dangerously receding hairline? Embezzlement? Partake in swagless beahavior? Either way, now's the time to forget about it!

[ he raises his glass -- to a newfound homoerotic friendship. (?) ]

[ Had he'd known ahead of time that this abandoned house on the outskirts of the entertainment district wasn't actually abandoned he wouldn't have selected it as one of his potential hideaways; that would've saved him a lot of trouble... he wouldn't have been caught wigless in the disguise.

and it's not like it's a blackmail situation—because clearly this kid has better priorities. No, rather, what's unfortunate was the demand for coffee that came out of the youth's mouth this morning and Gogol's inability to say no recently. With the lukewarm cup gripped in hand Gogol bends to offer it down to the bundle of blankets on the floor. Technically he is double-fisting two coffees, as one does. It's probably the correct one that he's handing over. ]

Here you are.

(he's so far gone. here, at least, he doesn't have to pretend otherwise. he's a dead man walking, no light, a ghost in a body that moves by its own. he sleeps a lot here, there isn't much to bring him joy - if he even can feel a shred of it right now. there's a spot that won't leave the floor, one that has eery shapes of blood splatter and puddles, one he didn't bother to clean.

the poofy hair is the first thing one sees once he emerges from the blankets, taking the first coffee that is offered and a face ensues.)

Did you really fuck up 7 spoonfuls of sugar?

[ There it is—that spark of mischievousness that hasn't been allowed to show on his face since this all began. It's far from the first time he's imposed on someone with no light in his eyes—far from it—but it is vaguely interesting that it's barely not a kid this time. They're really starting them off early these days! The economy is in shambles.

It's been a while since Gogol has had to tip toe over blood puddle stains. Come to think of it teaching this kid how to clean up a biiig mess might be a good idea. ]

You haven't tried it yet. How would you know?

[ He holds his index finger up in the universal "hold up" gesture. Taking advantage of any confusion it might cause Gogol plucks the first cup away and does a switcheroo with the two coffees. This one has... 6 spoonfuls of sugar and 1 artificial sweetener. ]

Just kidding. It's obviously this one.

(would you really think he would be the one cleaning any messes, gogol. does he look like a lackey. nah, thank you.

a more lively manjiro would find gogol's quirks amusing, worthy of a smile, but this one is just utterly unimpressed, reaching for the beverage and taking a sip - the artificial sweetener goes unnoticed, it's way too sweet either way. he just likes eating the sugar resting on the bottom of the cup.)

Anyway. What is it that is going on with you anyway, you left that out. I'll help you out.

[ Well gee, this guy sure goes right in on people doesn't he? When Sha-Ming begins to scrutinize his face intently he makes sure to avert his eyes in a way that should probably read as bashful. In response to the hairline dig he reaches up to touch his forehead but apparently loses the will to live halfway. It results in the arm dropping right back down accompanied by a few under the breath mumbles. Pathetic indeed. ]

Excuse me sir... But am I dead? Is this purgatory? Uh, are you a demon sent to tempt me further?

[ Trying to be subtle about it he wriggles a little bit across his bar stool to gain a few inches away from the man plastering himself to his side. Predictably he doesn't get the chance to get a word in—this stranger doesn't seem to care about what his crime actually is so he takes advantage of it by not answering at all. Although, answering with "Defenestration" and following it up with an example would've been fun, he decides. It's so unfortunate that the priority is finding the Overcoat first before he can even chuck the disguise and have his fun with this guy. ]

Please don't make me break anymore laws...!

[ There's still a really hesitant and dubious clinking of glasses as he taps his against sha-ming's. It's impolite to leave a guy hanging you see. ]

[ funny. poor man must be struggling with his self confidence — it’s alright, his boy sha-ming is here to help worsen it. another swig of his drink, the bitter burn of alcohol sweeping across his tongue. ]

Yeah, what am I tempting you to do? You sayin’ you want me? No need to play coy… I’m really generous, yanno?

[ the stranger puts some distance between them — sha-ming let’s it be for now, but the clink lights him up from within, renews his spirits. ]

We’re just having a good time, stop worryin’. Unless you’re threatening me… you a serial killer? I bet you’re in this city for a reason. You know, some of the worst guys you’ll ever meet pretend to be super pathetic, good for nothing losers… it gets you real far, yeah?

I’m totally not gonna fight you, though. I felt you up… I’m pretty sure you’d beat my ass! Thankfully, begging is my forte, so if you try anything I’m gonna annoy you so bad you’ll wanna kill yourself.

[ now that that disclaimer is out of the way, sha-ming finishes off his drink; he lets the glass clatter against the counter, and he’s already raising a hand to gesture towards the barkeep. ]

Hey, barkeep! Another round, thanks. [ his eyes flit back to the stranger. ] Whaddya wanna do tonight, pal? Billiards? Karaoke? Shoot the shit as we get plastered? The world’s your oyster.

Ehehe, should I really tell you? Since you've asked I think I will!!
There's a certain something I'm looking for. In order to do that I'm pretty much required to do a disappearing act this impressive!

[ Generally these past few days Mikey would've seen Gogol as focused without too much time to lollygag around. However at the direct mention of what the possible motivation behind it all might be... Well there's quite suddenly enough instability caused by this situation that it shows on his face. ]

On the off chance that it wasn't the council that clipped my wings someone must have had some stiiicky fingers~!

Guess we're both playing the disappearing act. Who is it and what are you going to do if you find them?

(pat, pat. mikey wonders to himself sometimes if gogol has a normal person talk switch, but again, now that he knows the other a little, he probably fights that with a burning passion.)

You lost the-- whatever is it you call it. Teleport stuff.

[ Is the cat out of the bag? Probably not. But change of plans anyways! He's accustomed to rolling with very sudden whims; and this is classifiable as a sudden whim. Plus it turns out that this guy is probably a little sharper than he first comes off as so he very well might pick the whole thing apart eventually.

Waiting patiently while sha-ming chatters seems to be the dynamic that's being cultivated here. As that goes on he takes his glasses off to idly clean one of the lenses with a cloth. The counter underneath the lens doesn't distort. Afterwards when sha-ming is preoccupied with ordering even more alcohol he wordless sits up and reaches over to pinch the new drink the barkeep is bringing over to sha-ming. There's a flash of sharply grinning teeth hidden and distorted by the glass and a duchenne smile that peers over it as he waits for those eyes to flit back to him to take a sip. ]

I don't know. I've heard a lot of insistent begging in my life.

[ Spoken quietly—hardly audible for even sha-ming's ears—with a completely straight face. It's funny how that strong alcohol doesn't cause such a meek man to pull a face, isn't it? Must be the high tolerance being an office worker gets you. By the time he returns the glass back to sha-ming he's already returned to looking serious and disconcerted.]

Oh, I'm not sure... How about a chat? I don't have a lot of people to talk to right now.

[ A hand slides down sha-ming's thigh to grip him at the knee. Primarily so he's going to have to go through a strength contest to get away but Gogol reasons it's fine if he interprets that another way. ]

[ the air shifts, colder and stiffer than it was before — he watches as the man takes a sip from what was his drink…um, indirect kiss much? gogol, you flirt…

sha-ming raises a brow; there’s a keen awareness of the way the stranger’s grave and depressive veneer mutates into something more manic for a fraction of a second. there’s a boldness there, like he’s at odds with himself, and sha-ming registers it at that exact moment: yes, this was a dangerous person indeed.

he flashes him a characteristic smile, head leaning into the palm of his hand. ]

If you wanted a smooch, all you had to do was ask. Tryin’ to cheat on your wife already? Thought it’d take a guy like you a few more days at least.

[ he digs his phone out of his pocket. boredly, his eyes flit to the screen, although he holds it at an angle where what he’s doing isn’t quiiiite visible. ]

Oh, sorry. My roommate’s some snot nosed brat, so I gotta let him know I’m hanging with my new friend tonight…❤️

[ to: minato arisato

yo if i die 2nite the salary man w the bad hairline and glasses did it

DONT THROW MY SHIT AWAY i’ll b back 😩

the phone slides back into his pocket; and then suddenly, there’s a hand on his thigh, fingers impressing into his flesh. an ironclad grip, one far stronger and more imposing than that of the average human being’s.

for a moment, sha-ming blinks — and stares. ]

Oh. Uhhhh…

[ he swallows. then smiles wolfishly, sharpened canines poking out… and then places his hand over the stranger’s. ]

Damn! I didn’t think you’d be that forward. Okayyyy, guess I gotta see what yer packin’ beneath the suit after all. Why don’t you tell me allllll about your problems. Your good pal’ll make them go away before you even know it.

[ he winks. because of course he does. ]

Edited 2024-04-25 19:20 (UTC)

I don't have a wife anymore... She tragically passed on a little while ago.

[ A slow blink. Oh buddy. How many people do you think he's brutally targeted and murdered? How many of those people do you think tried to covertly call for help? Humanity's instinct to strategize a way to survive danger is always a fascinating but pretty predictable one.

The audacity of pulling out the phone to text immediately after that little display... He still let's sha-ming do it interestingly enough. He watches him go through the action with a half-lidded gaze. It's pretty much because he's interested to see how well this guy manages it without having a face crack. Now, if only it weren't for the timing.

If this was a visual novel that might've been the trigger event for one of the bad ends with the red text, though. So good thing it isn't a visual novel. ]

...Forward? Well, sir, it's because I can't help but feel a bit flattered by all your advances. But you keep saying all these naughty and provocative things when anyone could be listening. Don't you feel any shame?

Oh, wow… so sad that she’s gotta watch this go down from the pearly gates. Or the fiery pits? Not like I knew her.

[ the man before him has a more languid affect now, trickling slow like the steady crawl of honey. he’s not the only one who’s been sentenced, unfortunately; sha-ming has another swig of his drink. and then he smiles, before erupting into a small little airy fit of laughter at what the man says next.

thank god he escaped visual novel jail when he came here. ]

Pfffft. Shame? [ he laughs, fingers raking though his hair. ] Shame? Really? Uh, no. Why the hell should I care?

[ his fingers wind around his, just the slightest bit tighter. ]

You know, it’s funny. Humans kill everything around ‘em. That’s how empires were built, right? People will hurt anything for any reason. And they get rewarded for it, too. We live in a universe where you’re always at another person’s mercy… maybe because their pockets are fuller than yours, or cause they look different, or cause you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could seriously be anything. And I’m the one who should feel shame?

Get real! [ a smile, wide and arrogant. ] I’m a pathetic coward, a good for nothin’ bastard… no shame about it. The way I am — I learned it from animals who never hurt a damn thing… and I’ll take that over being some shit for brains human any day.

Maybe if you were more like me, you wouldn’t be this miserable.

Bingo! The overcoat. My shoulder is feeling a liiittle cold without it, yknow?

[ Risking the well-being of his foot he gives the mass of blankets that is Mikey a little nudge with his foot. Disappearing acts aside this guy probably shouldn't be spending so much time on the floor. ]

I haven't decided juuust yet—You wouldn't happen to know who has it would you?

No, but it's probably the same motherfucker who made me be able to do this.

(he won't do damage to the foot, but he will punch the spot just near it - enough to make a crater out of it. he put barely any force.)

We'll get it back and get this thing out of me, too.

[ The fingers caught under sha-ming's hand go slack, easily caught, before twitching—a kinetic sign of the stab of elated confusion that runs through the man attached to them. Instantaneously the pretense of some secretary's dead wife is dropped and abandoned; he now stares wide eyed and alert at sha-ming like he's actually looking at him now. For a undefinable moment as the words register it feels like the carpet has been pulled from underneath and he's floating. ]

You're right. If I were more like you I wouldn't be quite so miserable.

[ ...What an interesting turn. The words coming out now are entirely genuinely his. Each one is not going through a filter that fits the image of some insignificant secretary. The mournful smile that follows along with them just might be genuine too. ]

But you are still human like me, I presume? Of course, that would mean that human nature is also being forced upon you. Every human emotion, even the ones you find the most distasteful, have some influence over every desire and thought you have.

[ One hand remains free and with it he decides to reach over to gently tap sha-ming on the forehead at the same time he calmly says the words human nature. ]

In solidarity I'll let you in on a personal motivation. I also wish to be a less human.

[ his smile does not fade, sleazy and syrup-like; in a strange way, he had expected this. for all of his faults, sha-ming understood humanity -- and what it meant to be alive better than others assumed. wholly intentionally, of course: it was easier to seem like a completely and utterly worthless idiot, gave you more of an advantage. nobody had wanted anything more from him anyways.

he cants his head, intrigued by the way honesty seeps through this man's facade. there's a sorrow there that he finds himself understanding, intrinsically -- was that what it meant to be lonely?

then comes another laugh. it's feather light and low. ]

Yeah, I am. That's why I'm so pathetic, yanno? Animals... they fight to survive, and that's it. But humans... they wanted more from the start. It's why they got so far -- but it's the source of their own sufferin', too.

Nothing's born cruel. Not even people.

[ his eyes rove up at his finger, blinking twice as he taps his forehead. human nature. what an interesting concept -- he thinks about it incessantly.

his mouth slopes down into a thin, soft little line, gaze contemplative as he looks to him. a nigh unreadable expression, but a genuine one no less. ]

You hate it, don't you? [ a beat. ] The curse of loneliness, yeah. I think that's the worst thing of all.

[ his sentencing rings in his head. a sip of his drink, hand still on the stranger's, before he returns to reality. ]

I'm scared of being alone. But it's all I know how to be, too. People will never understand you. People will always find a way to hurt you. People will die, or abandon you, or leave you where you stood. It's human nature. But I'm just too weak for humanity to start with.

I see...

[ A low whistle. There's something to be said about accepting help when it's offered. Not cowed enough by the excessive show of force he offers a hand to shake on it. ]

That sounds like a deal I could agree to. Shall we make that official?

How? You got a paper to sign or something? My word is my fucking bond.

(IS THAT NOT ENOUGH, GOOGS. ARE YOU CALLING HIM A LIAR.)

Edited 2024-04-26 16:21 (UTC)

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Page 1 of 7

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

TDM - “ Arrival ” - OPEN

Where's Waldo?

ii, the bar

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@invinciblemikey

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ekL881PJMjI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ynslUS4vvM&pp=ygUYdG9tIGplcnJ5IHNjcmVhbWluZyBtZW1l

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