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

[salamanca]

[ Lalo stares at the message on the screen, uncertain what is going on here. First this little bastard outs him in front of everyone, but now he wants to pretend like nothing happened? Lalo furrows his brows, trying to make sense of it. Is this some game the kid is playing? Some new scheme? Did he realize he fucked up, and is now trying to let sleeping dogs lie?

Does he expect Lalo to be grateful that he's letting it go? ...well, fine, maybe Lalo is. Grateful, that is. A little bit, anyway. Don't tell anyone. It doesn't repair everything from Lalo's perspective, but he's happy to take the lifeline he perceives he's being offered. ]

Nothing, nothing. Don't worry about it.
Gracias.
Meant what I said. Here if you change your mind and want to talk.
Understand if you don't want to talk about it with me, though.

[trialbyliar]

[Sorry dude, but, uh...spoke too soon.]

lol woah you don't get to drop it that easily!!
i meant i wanna hear you say it!
whatever *you* think the bad thing you did was
if you're really that sorry then it should be easy

[salamanca]

[ There it is. The other shoe drops. Lalo feels suddenly, deeply stupid for letting even a fraction of his guard down around this little fucker for a second. He should have listened to his first instinct - that this was a scheme, some new game the kid was playing - instead of talking himself into believing it might not be. He clutches the walkie for a moment or two, knuckles turning white, so angry for that he can't see straight.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and presses two fingers to his pulse on his neck, feeling it until it's steady, focusing just on that. Just on that. The way he remembers Cohle telling him to do. He resents that something some pig told him to do works so well, but it does. He can feel his pulse and his breathing start to even out.

He's not responding to this. ]

[trialbyliar]

???
well???

[trialbyliar]

what happened??
i thought you were soooo sorry

[trialbyliar]

i'm waitinggggg

[trialbyliar]

ヽ(o´∀`)ﾉ♪♬

[trialbyliar]

did you die again

[trialbyliar]

lol rip

[salamanca]

[ Not today, Satan! You're not tricking him into outing himself, for a second time, in front of any new people or people who might not have been listening the first time he flipped his shit about that! (Yes, this is what Lalo thinks you are trying to do, because he's insane.)

Still no response. ]