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laZardo
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^This is not what a Laz looks like^
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((For the sake of roll expediency we'll be moving things along a little bit as worked out with Ban.))

"Act casual, and take that... abomination of a facial expression off. Seriously, you're scaring me a little with that, we can't afford to scare whoever's out there too,"

Cisco quickly took these words to heart, gasping briefly as his smile sunk back into an expression of quivering obedience. Perhaps it was better to let Joe do his job and then have Cisco do the dirty work...though it was starting to near the point where it was past gratifying for him.

"Hey, anyone out there?" Joe shouted. Cisco stepped back toward Joe so the two were almost back-to-back, hoping that he hadn't somehow alerted a horde. Of course, a pseudo-supernatural call deserved a pseudo-supernatural response, this one in the form of what sounded like the feedback from a speaker.

The ringing in his ears from the explosion had dissipated enough that he only had tinnitus during more absolute silence. It sounded like the feedback was coming from only one speaker.

"Uh, hi. It's Katelyn. With a 'K'." Only one person came to mind when he heard those words, though she sounded sincere enough (as sincere as a speaker filter would allow) that it was most likely that person.

Katelyn Wescott was almost a nerd after his own heart. Almost. Sure she liked to put an almost freaky intensity into things, but she just seemed too intellectual for it to be 'real.' Not that it caused him to hold any contempt for her from that, he just kept his distance from her like he did from most (and vice versa.)

"We're not fighting! We won't hurt you! We might even be able to help!"

From how confident (or not) she sounded, she had to have found a group that had power in numbers or weaponry. Either way, he couldn't take them on with Death's earthly form and not suffer greatly (and stupidly) for it. Which means they had to come up with a way to lure them to their doom...something Cisco was already getting to while Katelyn was speaking.

"I've got an idea..." Cisco suddenly said, his enthusiasm limited by his hushed voice, "I'll toss my vinyl at them. That'll show them we don't mean any harm yet."

He pursed his lips as he gently pried his fingers into the torn paperboard sleeve, making his way around the bladed tip of the 'vinyl' and across its smooth yet slightly scuffed metallic surface to the hole before slowly pulling it out. Removing it also slowly removed bits and pieces of the actual black vinyl, shattered in the explosion, causing them to fall to his feet unnoticed.

He held out the record with an extended arm and fingers and a gentle yet disappointed smile on his face, as if he were at a jewelry store analyzing a (fiendishly huge) engagement ring. The steel glinted in the light, allowing him to see the 'vinyl's' serrated edges more clearly. But even then, he wasn't quite convinced.

"It's a shame, this must be a limited edition print." Cisco couldn't exactly remember where he'd heard that vinyls were printed in different colors. Maybe it was just the preschool records his teacher put on the toy player, which was somehow fitting given that the original vinyl was a first-edition printing of children's songs.

"But hell, I'm gonna die soon anyway," he added, "Nobody's gonna miss it."

Cisco removed his finger from the hole and held the circular sawblade with both hands, pinching the flat side so as not to cut himself like last time as he stared out in the general direction of the megaphone voice. The voice came from a direction where the foliage was relatively low, probably not much taller than the two boys. It wouldn't be hard to send the vinyl hurtling over it just far enough to be noticed if the wind didn't blow it back into the woods.

"We don't want to hurt you either!" he shouted, his throat aching a bit from not having done much shouting in a long time. "I'll toss out my weapon, it's not that good!"

Without any further delay, Cisco folded his wrist forward and crouched a bit, clearly aiming to mimic his athletic counterparts in executing this suddenly-improvised plan of his. He was no discus thrower by most measures, but at least his constant state of pseudo-dizziness meant he wouldn't lose as much of the bearings he'd somehow recovered after the explosion as he figured he would. With a rather loud grunt, he loosed his grip and sent the blade whizzing over the foliage. At least it didn't seem to wobble much from the air resistance...as much as he could spot it before it finally disappeared from his sight.

If anything though, Cisco didn't expect it to hit anything. In fact he probably didn't expect the 'vinyl' to reach them at all. It would probably land harmlessly at their feet at the most, maybe even bounce harmlessly off of their clothes.

This'll be easy. I'll just ask Death to help me find it when I'm done...maybe this'll satisfy him.

Unfucked: Cisco Vasquez (V4)
Proper Fucked: Harris Van Allen (The Program), Rashid Hassan (V4)
Fucked Soon: Carlos Lazaro and Eliza Patton
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Too Late · The Woods: Inland