NFG Season One - Suspicious Interview

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Description: Fate - or possibly some more deliberate will - brings Djamila to bump quite literally into a... very strange person. Who claims to be a journalist. With very strange interview questions.

Djamila is walking around downtown. The sound of the city was a distraction from all her thoughts. She's still thinking of Kenzo, of that match, of what could have happened. She has been going around. Of course, when Kenzo will be ready to talk with her, she will make time for him. She just has to concentrate on her own match. She may have beaten that girl once, doesn't mean she can just surf through that match when it's time. Genie was definitely proof of that.

So she is walking around. Some people look at her because they recognize her. Others because of her look. A blindfold over the eyes, walking with assurance, it's not every day you see that. But that's Djamila alright. Her staff can serve as a cane so that part is not that weird. It's also her trademark overall.

Right now, it does seem she walks around a bit aimlessly. She needs the fresh air, she needs the sound around her. She needs to live. The city is alive and she likes that. Let's see what life brings her. Will she end up in a place she wants to explore more, maybe bump into someone? Sometimes, you just let fate decide.

And she does, in fact, bump into someone. Someone who seems to make nearly no sound at all in their footsteps. Until the aforementioned bumping, anyhow.

"Buh!" comes a sharp sound then, as a firm shoulder bumps right into Djamila's own, causing the man colliding with her to stumble to the side to move past her, spinning around right after to face her again. "Hey, watch it!" A growling complaint comes, from...


Someone who seems very much like there's something *wrong* with him.

Not outwardly, perhaps. The tall japanese man with a truly *glorious* mane of wild hair in a three piece suit actually looks kind of dashing. But... the senses that help Djamila see in spite of lacking sight might clue her in to something else about the man. It's hard to put the finger on what exactly it is, but...

It's something twisted.

"Hmmm?" But (unfortunately?) the man does appear to be interested almost immediately here, after the irritation from the bumping has passed.

"Well now, well now, well nooooow..." Comes a nearly sing-song-y tone from the man, as he closes back in with steps so smooth he might almost seem he is sliding over the ground instead of actually stepping along it. "Have I seen you somewhere...?" The thoughtful murmur meant perhaps initially more as something for just himself, though it helps to present something to latch on for the woman, too. All while amber eyes manage to peer past wayward locks of hair at her, in trying to put together a connection between memories.

A bit lost in her thoughts, and the lack of noticeable sounds from their footsteps makes the collision inevitable.

"What?!? It makes her spin with the flow of the hit and then she sets her staff against the ground. "Watch it? I am blind. What's your excuse?!" She tells him because sometimes she doesn't feel all sugary and nice.

At this point, she's trying to figure out if it's a potential enemy or a potential friend. There's something about him that makes her unsure about it all but also curious. She could probably move away, but this is a distraction right now. She's going to stay.

Well the man also seems interested. He's not attempting to go away at the moment. So, is this what fate has in store for her? Alright then, she will follow to see what it is exactly.

Now he starts talking with her properly... Well, proper is a big word. It's different. "You might have if you've been following the NFG tournament. Anyone in there is pretty hard to miss." She wraps her right leg around her staff. "Who might you be? Should I be wary of you?" She might be asking that, but she will be the sole judge if she should be wary or not of him.

Right now she is wearing normal street clothes. A pair of blue jeans, form-fitting. A t-shirt that says, 'If you can read this, you're not looking at my eyes.' Which is quite the irony with her. But someone can always look at her blindfold.

"The tournament... The tournament, the tournament... Hmmmm..." The wild-haired man repeats the word several times over, each time at a slightly different pitch, as if he's trying to either test how it feels on his tongue... or maybe trying to find something lyrical behind it?

Still, he takes a few steps closer like that, and roughly a meter and a half from her, he stops, only to leeeeaaan forward some more. His nostrils flare, and he audibly takes in a breath through them. Is... Did he just sniff at the air near her?

"Oh! Ohhhh, yes! Yes, that's it~" He finally chimes out, and he promptly leans right back again, like a spring getting reset back into it's original shape. "That's what it was, wasn't it? I've been following that whole thing. I was kind of hoping I would find... one of you contestants."

His hands wrap together behind his back as he takes a half-step back, bending over subtly again, as if though he was a schoolgirl meeting a handsome upperclassman instead of a tall adult man meeting a younger girl. It's... a very bizarre kind of bodylanguage, honestly. Not that his overall body language isn't odd as is, it's all very smooth, as if he is in a constant state of dance with the rest of reality.

"Wary? Of me?" He actually gasps at that, even holding a hand up to his chest dramatically. "Little sweet innocent me? Perish the thought! ... Well, unless ya really get me all tickled and excited I guess, aheh! But you probably got nothin' to worry about. Prolly!"

He sounds *way* too cheerful for saying that in such an ambigious way.

"Perhaps Djamila's patience is a little bit on the low side too. Because of certain things happening that can't be avoided. Even if most times, people wouldn't notice anything different. At least so she thinks. "Yes, the tournament. The NFG tournament. Lots of young prospects learning how to fight and putting quite the display.

She wonders as he does seem to sniff hair or something. "What are you doing? Are you for real?" 'No, don't get mad, it's ok. You stay to learn more, or you leave. No need to get mad.' She tells herself on the inside, calming down a bit.

This man is definitely weird, but can she assume that he is bad? He could even be eccentric if he has money. Yeah, normal people are weird, but rich people are indeed eccentric. That's what you learn anyway. "Well, you found one of them. Why did you want to meet one of us? An autograph, perhaps?" She asks, but she doesn't think it's the case. But she is curious.

The way his movements flow also. Almost like he's dancing. That makes her even more curious. It is something she can relate to a point. It doesn't make him less weird, but it makes Djamila want to know more at the moment.

"People who claim to be innocent rarely are, you know? Maybe you should be wary of me." She is mostly kidding on that end. But she's trying to get a better understanding of him. Though perhaps there is nothing to understand.

"I'm sure I haven't the *slightest* clue what you mean," claims the ever-dancing man, turning his hand from the press against his chest to idly adjusting the fit of his tie.

"You, though...?" He tilts his head slightly to one side while considering Djamila. His nose wrinkles briefly, before those nostrils flare open again, and then...

"Naaaah." The declaration comes with an entirely dismissive wave of his hand. "I don't got nothin' to worry about. But look, in any caaaaaase..." There's that sing-song tone again. And he even goes stepping to the side, and then forward. And then the step following him passing her turning into a sweeping pivot along his heel again, in a waltz-like motion around her circumference.

"I am Kirikawa Katsuro. And you are... Fadel Dja-... No, sorry. Djamila Fadel-san, yes?"

A full circle around her, before coming to a stop again, and presenting a widely cheerful smile to her.

"How would you feel about a little interview? I'm... a sort of a journalist, you see."

"No idea at all?" She flips her foot hooked to the staff while unhooking it from the ground. The staff spins forward. It comes close to the man but does not touch him. Then it flips back into Djamila's hand as she puts her foot on the ground.

She turns her head a bit to the side. "What's a woman to think when a man smells her? I've had that happen before. But at my job, it makes more sense. Here, it's kinda weird."

She ends up shrugging her shoulders, keeping her staff held in her right hand. She wonders if he is a dancer or just crazy. it's hard to form an opinion yet. She doesn't feel in immediate danger though. Even if she did, would she really leave?

Hello Kirikawa. Or you must be Katsuro if you were going to put my last name first. I am Djamila Fadel, yes." She nods her head. "One of the many NFG participants. Though, there are fewer of us in the tournament now."

She wonders. "If you are a journalist, where is your cameraman? Or your notebook? Don't you need to take notes? What would the interview be about anyway?" She has done interviews before, after all. But sometimes makes her not say yes right away.

After this, she ends up leaning back on her staff while she awaits his answers.

"I ain't the tv kinda journalist," comes Katsuro's first answer, and right as it does, he returns his motions right back into that circular dance around the girl all over again. Slower this time, though, which... honestly, might end up just coming across as more disconcerting.

"And I might just have my notebook in my pocket, ya know?" He points out then on the second question. "But I got good memory so I don't need 'em, yes ma'am I do!"

And then, he finally stops again at the completion of that renewed circle, to come to face her all over again from their original positioning point. "Well. Mostly your interactions with the rest of yer team, maybe some of the other competitors... stuff like that, ya know. Bet some readers could be reeeal interested in that stuff, see?"

"A journalist card, then? Or are you not that kind of journalist either?" She has half a mind of putting the staff in his way, trip him maybe. Or perhaps he would gracefully sidestep it in a dance. Now, she's getting curious in another way. However, there is still something that doesn't feel right with him. Perhaps she is determined to figure it out.

"What's the point in telling me you might be carrying one concealed but then telling me you're not carrying any? Like me telling you, I might have a guide dog somewhere..." She wasn't going to say 'But, I don't need one.' She didn't feel like it. "But it's invisible at the end of my staff." She smirks a bit.

"With you circling like this, you might be looking for my invisible after all." She ends up chuckling. "Well, I guess it depends on your questions. If I like them, I will answer them. If I don't like them, you won't get squat though." A bit of wind starts circling her, nothing major, just a little breeze.

"Pffft, don't be silly, Fadel-chan," Katsuro insists with another wave of his hand, this time couipled with an amused, cheerful laughter from him. "I would smell somethin' like that even if it were invisible-like, ya know?"

Well, no, probably most people *wouldn't* know something like that.

"Well then!" He claps his hands together then, and takes a slow step forward, to briefly bring himself closer up in front of her -- apparently either not taking note of the increase in the wind or simply not minding it in any way. "I will just ask and ya can answer as ya like. How's that sound?" He's not even going to try to get her to sit down with him at a cafe or something for this? Just... right there in the open?

"One of the sponsors in your team... Real big fella! Calls himself Kongou, right? Mm, see, a lot of people are kinda curious 'bout that one, it turns out..." His finger taps against his lower lip while he muses out all that.

"How much have ya interacted with the big guy, and what's your take on 'im?"

"You would smell it? Ok then." She nods her head and chuckles again, but then again, maybe a dog could be invisible with a smell. Who knows in this world, after all?

"Ok, sounds fair." She smiles at that. That was a least a bit better. And answer as she wants, she will do depending on the question. Though it's weird, they are not going to sit down. But right now, she lets that pass.

The wind stays a light breeze around her meanwhile, while she pretends to think. "A real big fella?" She thinks more. "That doesn't ring any bell. Don't have someone like that on our team." She offers. "Kongou? Never heart the name." The first part is true. Kongou is not a sponsor on her team, but on another team. But she definitely knows him. Though she doesn't get what he has to do with anything. He's not a team member. This is getting fishy. "Sorry, I can't help you with that question. Are there any others?" She tightens her grip on her staff.

Katsuro actually halts completely when he hears that answer. He had been practically constantly in some kind of motion, in his never-ending little dance, but now? Nothing. Not even the slightest movement, for a solid five seconds.

"Hmmm..." He rumbles out, thoughtfully, his lips even pursing away from the previously ever-present smile that had been there. "I have my names mixed up here..." He mutters, those amber eyes turning to peer up towards the upper left corner of their sockets, like he's trying to access something directly in his brain.

"Okay. Fair, my mistake!" The cheerful tone returns right after, but... when he spin-steps along Djamila's perimeter, to stand right besides her, he gives a mildly suspicious look to her from the side. "Not heard at all? From the other team? Blaze, it was, yes... Didn't see the guy even once? Hmmm..." He rubs at his chin with two fingers, thoughtfully, before simply shrugging. "Oh well! What'cha gonna dooooo."

Another spinning step along the blind woman's perimeter, bringing him behind her this time around. "But nevermind him, then. What abouts the guys you've been fightin' and such? Let's see... Among the lot, did you come across people with a lot of... supernatural qualities about them? Not in like the way a lotta fighters have with chi and magic and stuff, I mean. I mean... Mmm. More than human. People who might not seem like they're either entirely human or *at all* human. Things like that? Remember anythin' of the sort?"

Wait, why does this suddenly kind of sound like getting questioned by the police?

She knows there are no longer movements. This was interesting. Because he didn't expect an answer. Fine then. But if he is a journalist, she's the queen of England or something.

"Maybe that's why you should take notes." She grins a bit as he says he got his names mixed up. Yet, she's still uneasy. She should go away. She probably will soon, but she keeps going a little more.

"Wait, there is a Blaze team?" She ponders. "Oh yeah, but I eliminated the last member of the tournament. My bad, I forgot about them. I know the members, not so much the sponsors. Why would I?"

She smiles at the next question. "Well, there was this time when I was really hungry for fish. That cat came along, and he really wanted my fish. He even showed me his teeth and hissed at me. I ended up letting him eat it, I wasn't in the mood to fight. But after that, he let out a rip fat one, and damn that smell, couldn't have been human, no sir. I left there in a hurry. I hope that helps.

She unhooks her staff one more time. "With that said, I have to be on my way. I need to get food. Talking about fish got me hungry. My boyfriend is waiting for me, and if I don't get there soon, he will worry. Don't want to worry, my boyfriend, I am sure you understand. Call Metal, and tell them you would like an interview with me or whoever. But you will have to tell them which journal you are working for. Ok, by ta ta." She waves and moves to walk away.

There's not much of a resposne to any of the... answer, such as it is, that Djamila first gives.

But then, once she's turned to walk away?

THere's suddenly a press down against her staff once it's pivoting forward during her steps. A leather shoe practically coiled around the very tip to pin it down against the curb.

"Shame," comes a sing-song whisper, from right up besides Djamila with that, too. "Wonder how much coulda been done about your competition if you had just helped even a liiiiiittle bit..."

Something's changed in the air. It seems to even extend into the wind that channels along DJamila herself. Something blood-chilling, while the source of that voice leans closer and whispers: "Guess we still could though. Be seein' ya, Fadel-chan. Ta ta now~."

The pressure lets go from her staff then. And just like that-- the presence that was Katsuro is no longer there, with not even a sound. Nothing there to be caught on with any reflexive swing of an arm or staff. Nothing there to be felt, heard or sensed. Nothing.

She thought she could just walk away, but then her staff was stuck. "No offense, but if you know what's good for you, you will release my staff." Truth be told, they could have been words she couldn't back up. But has that ever stopped her?

Then there is this talk about her competition. There is someone she is upset with, and she does think is a menace. But she wouldn't sell her to someone who lied to her. Besides, they can take her away after she beats her fair and square. Unless something happens out of her control, then it won't be her fault.

She is about to say more, but then, there is nothing, nothing at all. She frowns even more. Yeah, that's brings concerns. She goes after that. She's not running, but she doesn't want to stay here anymore either.

Log created on 12:27:31 11/23/2023 by Katsuro, and last modified on 04:30:00 11/24/2023.