(no subject)

[aluminumandash]

[ RE419S | TEXT | 001 ]

[ After the message (warning?) has blared two successive times, Rust waits about an hour and sends: ] Progress on locating unauthorized transport?



[ OOC: Threadjack to your heart's content! ]

Comments

SOUNDS GOOD, sorry for asking an impossible question!

[aluminumandash]

[ That description—the physical description, facial scarring—it's like finding the sticks lashed together in Marie Fontenot's backyard. The feeling of a wider, unknowable world out there, right at the edges of his vision. Rust blinks, stares dumbly at the walkie. Upper-crust Brit doesn't fit, but hell. Accents are mutable.

Fortunately Martin goes on. And on. Rust's thoughts slow down after a while. He doesn't know if it's pitiful or disgusting that this man seems to want Rust to not only find his boyfriend, but to like him. ] I don't tend to inspire kindness in others. [ He says, dryly matter-of-fact. ] The scarring, how old's it?

[ As if two extensively scarred men might turn up. ]

[lonelynotforsaken]

I dunno. You're trying to help here with the people who've responded. That seems worth the effort.

Not really sure you're going to see anyone else like him, but, uh... a couple of years, I guess? A year and a half?

[Time went strange and Jon doesn't heal like a normal person, but that sounds right for how they look.]

[aluminumandash]

Ah, that's duty. Besides, people can get picky about the kind of help they want.

[ A considering pause. ] Is it his knife you've got?

[lonelynotforsaken]

You're not on the clock, Detective. [His tone is very wry.] Even if it is just habit, it's... nice. For now.

I don't actually know where the knife came from. [Technically true! And Martin will be wringing all he can out of technicalities for a while.] I'm assuming it's from the room we were in. Or just outside. There's a big antique case thing out there. Lots of random historical things. I wasn't paying a lot of attention to it when I came up the stairs.