RE419S | audio | Day 7

[aluminumandash]

[ Rust's voice comes over the walkie, urgent and forceful. ] Anyone in the area between the concrete structures where Martin and me were held—that's the foothills with, ah, a river to the south and the jungle ten hours to the west of the northeast coast, check in right the fuck now.

[ He thinks to type the rest out—some semblance of a record, something for people to refer back to for the while it's around—but five minutes punching little keys and he can't take it anymore. So his voice returns, matter-of-fact. ]

Officer de Guzman's dead. [ If anyone was hoping for a eulogy, it's not fucking happening. ] Took an arrow to the shoulder then was executed, from the sound of it, likely with his own firearm. He was in the region I just described, about a kilometer away from a wood cabin with no defenses or occupants he could discern. Guessing he walked into some kind of a trap. [ He concludes, irritation seeping into his voice. ]

Much as I hate to state the obvious, circumstances compel me to say: do not seek out the cabin. Hell, I'll say it twice: do not seek out the fucking cabin. You find yourself in an area suspiciously quiet and bereft of animal activity, turn around and go back the way you came.

The individual who killed him had a message for us. It follows.

[ After a short delay: ] The next animal I find here will die a much slower death. Tell your friends for me.


OOC: Replies subject to even more robust threadjacking than usual from Lalo!

Comments

[lonelynotforsaken]

[Again, there's that insistence that people like him, that he's important. That he should take advantage of it. It grates, it raises his suspicions. Just who is Ben de Guzman? Not a cop, but someone with a gun. Who panics at drones, but throws himself toward them insistently. Homophobic and incredibly insecure in his own sexuality. Someone from before Martin's time. Maybe he'll send K and Randvi a little extra warning to keep an eye on the man while he's at the airfield.

Whatever else Ben is, he seems to be reckless, and that's... not necessarily good for everyone else he's with.]

Sure! Here's a little dinosaur for you:
owwo
A friend for the big dino.
Take care and talk to you later.

[salamanca]

[ At first, the sight of the "small dino" makes Lalo practically light up with glee, thinking he's finally found an "in"... a way to bridge the gap that plagues every interaction they've ever shared.

But then Martin cuts him off again, ending the conversation just when Lalo was planning to spam him with more dinosaur emojis, and his eyes briefly cloud with anger. Partly, like any sociopath, it's simple frustrated rage at feeling like a manipulation attempt has failed. He doesn't know yet just how badly, having no idea that Martin is texting others about him.

But there's something else too and deep, deep down, under the surface narcissistic rage of realizing someone has outsmarted him — yet again, for the second time in as many days — there's the tiniest wisp of the bitter sting of rejection, of realizing someone doesn't and never will like him, that even if he dropped any attempts at manipulating anyone, even if he wasn't a criminal, even if he wasn't a homophobe... Martin would still never like him. He would always be too loud, too much. And he opened up, even, to Martin, let the demons that were whispering in the corners of his psyche leech into the front of his mind for the first time in years... to someone who immediately ended the conversation as soon as he did.

Why the fuck did he do that? Try to ascribe meaning to what happened to him, why did he let this asshole let him start to believe there was? Of course there's no meaning to it; he's happier, he realizes, when he can be honest with himself about that. Maybe there's a lesson somewhere.

What the fuck is this place doing to him? He's been here eight days! This is really pathetic shit. More pathetic than getting himself killed hanging upside down? Hard to say.

More importantly, why the fuck does he even care? Why's he being so pathetic about this? Is he still rattled from yesterday? Frustrated and worried that someone who has dirt on him already has seen through him? Whatever. It doesn't matter. Fuck this nerd. Who gives a shit what he thinks. Can't please everyone; gotta please yourself. It'd be nice to have Martin's favor, sure, but who gives a fuck? He fucked up, no biggie. Time to just close the book on this one and move on.

But all he says in response is: ]

ttyl
thanks again
for everything