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[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! ]

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[lonelynotforsaken]

I'm not going to use it to kill anyone!

text | callsign: DI481O

[salamanca]

Don't listen to him. You won't have to kill anybody. Keep heading North! There's two of us here. Sounds like we might not be too far from you.

[lonelynotforsaken]

Um... okay! I've got a little bit of food I can share. It's not much, but I'll keep looking along the way. Oh, and some aloe, in case anyone gets a sunburn. The other person with you, though, their name isn't Jon, is it?

[Is he just ignoring his radio? Is he too injured to use it?]

[salamanca]

Jon? [ The voice on the other end of the walkie sounds puzzled. ] Oh! Uh, no. Some kid. A teenager. [ Have a sad-sounding, "woe is me" voice. ] About my stepson's age. [ He sounds very pained at being separated from his family!!! ]

[lonelynotforsaken]

Wait... it's not- the kid who asked us all to sound off with our locations, is it?

[He's not sure he wants to meet up, if yes.]

[salamanca]

[ There's a laugh, but it sounds like the person on the other end is trying to suppress it, like he doesn't want to laugh but can't help himself.

In truth, the attempt to suppress the laugh is forced, but laugh itself is genuine. ]

Yeah, uh. That's him. [ You can hear the wince in his voice. ] Like I said, I have a son that age, so I'm used to it.

[lonelynotforsaken]

Right.

[There's silence for a long moment. He shouldn't avoid these people just because one of them is wildly annoying. Although, there's a serious temptation.]

Okay. That's... sure. I hope he's a little less... that in person. Guess I'll find out. [The last comment is muttered before he speaks louder.] I'm Martin, by the way. I know he's Kokichi. What's your name?

[salamanca]

Oh, trust me. He's exactly like that in person. [ A chagrined laugh. Mostly; Kokichi has proven to be a little more demure and thoughtful in person compared to the bombastic way he presents himself over the walkies. But he's definitely still Like That. ]

I'm Ben. Uh, Ben De Guzman. Officer Benjamin De Guzman. Sorry, uh, I'm a little new at, uh--

[ He trails off, as if embarrassed. Then swallows. ] Uh, this.

[lonelynotforsaken]

[Officer. Suspicions rising. Basira and Daisy, in particular, slip into his mind as the police officers he knows the most about. But there's no need to be rude, either.]

N-no need to apologize. I think we all are, Ben! [He'll wait to be told to use the title.] New, I mean. Unless anyone's holding out on us about that time they were living the real-life version of "Castaway." I guess it wouldn't be so bad if they're actually like Tom Hanks... He seems nice?

[salamanca]

[ Lalo doesn't instruct him to use the title, and if anybody ever does use it, he'll be quick to tell them that "just Ben" is fine.

He continues on, as good-naturedly as before. He even laughs at the reference to Tom Hanks. ]

Maybe we'll get lucky and somebody'll find a volleyball. Who knows? That could be the key we're all looking for.

[lonelynotforsaken]

[In spite of himself, that does make him crack a smile.]

Wilson knows all. I'll keep an eye out while I'm walking. I've seen some interesting-looking crabs, at least. So... if we could catch them and make a fire, we could- Wait. Can you... grill crabs? Or do you have to boil them?

[salamanca]

¡Ay Dios Mio! "Can you grill crabs?" [ Lalo's incredulity is actually 100% sincere right now. ] Are you kidding me? Sure you can! I am telling you, you're missing out if you've never had grilled crab legs.

[lonelynotforsaken]

[There's a moment of silence, of some... mild humiliation. He's eaten crab outside of the tinned stuff maybe twice in his life, and they'd both been at holiday parties for the Institute. Martin tries not to let the self-conscious of his own poverty shine through as he replies.]

G-great! Yeah, that's awesome. Well, it'll be something new to try, right? Just have to be quick to catch them. And... and avoid the claws!

[aluminumandash]

Animals. [ He says, after pausing like an asshole (to be fair: he's not such an asshole that he holds down the talk button during it). ]

Survival, it's all about self-awareness. Mental awareness, knowing your own limits before you go crashing into them.

[lonelynotforsaken]

Oh.

[Well, he feels dumb now, jumping to that sort of conclusion.]

I don't- I've never hurt an animal. Not on purpose. I don't know if I could for something... fuzzy? M-maybe if it was a fish? I could strap the knife to a stick and do spear fishing?

[That's how that works, right?]

I like sushi?

[aluminumandash]

Yeah, reckon the fish could do with a laugh. [ It's lightly mocking. Dead serious: ] Salt water'll chew through your knife like that.

Fishing's good, though. I can show you how to gut 'em.

[lonelynotforsaken]

[The man can't see Martin pursing his lips at that first comment, but he does that.]

Oh, boy. I can't wait. [Martin huffs quiet.] I-I do appreciate the advice. I'm Martin, by the way. What's your name?

[aluminumandash]

[ A little twitch of his lips at the name. ] Cohle. I grew up like this—not exactly like this. In Alaska. [ Is he more stilted talking about himself than about gutting fish? Absolutely. ]

What do you do, Martin? You a reporter?

[lonelynotforsaken]

[That's such a specific profession to suggest.]

No? I'm an administrative assistant. Archival assistant before that. I've been a librarian before, too.

[He's been a lot of things before, but he'll go with those as the most recent set.]

What do you do, Cohle? Apart from... live the outdoorsy lifestyle.

[aluminumandash]

[ He hesitates a hard second, kicking himself for bringing it up. Not like it's hard to put together, but he wants to divulge as little as possible over the walkies. ] Cop. Homicide.

[ Who kidnaps a fucking assistant? ] Your boss, I'm gonna go ahead and guess he's not so popular.

[lonelynotforsaken]

[Why are there so many police officers on this island? That's two out of... only a handful of people. Bit suspicious. Martin frowns to himself, but keeps his tone light, conversational.]

Um... I mean, I guess not? But I'm not the person anyone would kidnap, if that's what you're getting at.

[And he knows full well he hasn't actually been kidnapped. But 'I'm a universe-hopper who has unleashed an unholy and eldritch curse upon this reality' feels like it wouldn't go over well.]

I'm actually looking for my boyfriend, Jon. He's the one people pay attention to.

[aluminumandash]

[ Blackmail, that's where his thoughts swerve. Secret boyfriend.

Be a decent starting point if it explained fuck-all about what everyone else was doing here. ] Ain't seen so much as a footprint, but what's he look like? About how tall?

canon is vague, and if we ever have a Jon app, I don't want to preempt them, so... narrative

[lonelynotforsaken]

[Martin provides a detailed description of Jonathan Sims. The most notable details he hits on are that he's a man in his thirties, but has graying hair, pockmark scars all over his face and body, a knife scar across his throat, burn scarring along one hand, and an RP British accent.]

He's also got, um... this really adorable frown when he's confused or thinking hard about something. Like, it's almost a pout? He's usually pretty grumpy and demanding, too. But-but he can be kind, too! Really kind. Just. He can get pushy when he gets scared, though. Trying to control things. But he's really very sweet. He'll try to hide that.

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.]