justmakemoney | contact;

sins;

1. countless years of petty scams
2. many counts of theft
3. fraud
4. falsifying evidence
5. witness tampering
6. money laundering
7. lying
8. friend of the cartel
9. identity theft
10. destruction of property
11. bribery, accepting and offering
12. gaslighting and manipulation, particularly of the elderly
13. involvement in the production and sale of methamphetamine
14. indirectly caused the death of several individuals
(Specific names: McGill, Charles; Hamlin, Howard.)
15. self-serving cowardice
16. defecating through a sunroof
17. greed
18. destruction of evidence
19. breaking and entering
20. general hedonism
21. inability to accept responsibility for actions

Edited 2022-07-28 22:24 (UTC)

[ From here. ]

[ It's mid-afternoon when Jimmy's phone rings. The "special" number. The one he only gives to "special" clients.

If he doesn't pick up right away, whoever it is keeps calling. And calling. As many times as it takes for him to pick up.

Whether he does pick up right away, or only after a while, or whether it has to go through Francesca first before getting to him, eventually he'll hear Nacho's voice on the other end of the phone: ]

Hey. Jimmy?

[ As is customary with Nacho, there's not a ton of emotion in his voice despite the direness of his and Jesse's situation. But if Saul is listening carefully, he can hear it. An unusual breathiness. A slight hollowness.

The fact that Nacho called him "Jimmy", not remembering to call him "Saul" in his desperation. ]

Edited 2023-11-22 01:15 (UTC)

[Saul Goodman is a busy man with a very busy schedule. A busy day of massages and schmoozing phone calls and making sure intel gets to the people that need it. Occasionally, a few actual clients will get their chance to get a consultation with Albuquerque's finest criminal lawyer, even.

Saul's in the middle of a very important, relaxing, chi machine session when the phone rings. (It's great for relaxation, keeps the blood flowing and the energy up. Totally not a scam device). At first, he ignores it. He can't tell which phone it is from down here, and he's a busy guy. For all whoever's calling knows, Saul could be doing some actually important legal work. Saving the downtrodden and fighting for the little guy and all that stuff he hasn't actually bothered believing in for years.

It's when the phone keeps ringing that Saul reluctantly get to his feet, rummaging through his desk drawers to find the correct phone. An unlisted call, that's not a surprise or any particular cause for concern in his line of work these days, so aside from mild irritation at his nice relaxing afternoon being interrupted, he picks up without a second thought. As soon as he hears the voice on the other end, however, his mouth goes dry. His hand trembles as his eyes dart around his office (he knows it's secure, he made sure of it himself, but he's been sure of his security in the past and look how that turned out for him), any nuance in Nacho's voice completely lost in Saul's panic.]

You...

[He's already long past the pretense of rejecting the identity Jimmy and reminding everyone he's Saul. His voice is a harsh whisper, even though he knows his office is soundproofed. He can't bring himself to speak above a harsh whisper, feeling like he'll be sick if he speaks any louder. Hearing Nacho's voice brought back memories Saul's tried his hardest to repress with denial and anxiety medication. Lalo walking into his apartment, Howard's last distressed moment, the fear on Kim's face, the slow flow of blood from Howard's body as his lifeless eyes stare forever forward at him on the floor.]

What the hell did you do?

[ Even in his panic, Nacho feels a stab of resentment at the harshness of Saul's voice. It's the unfair, bitter resentment of somebody who knows, deep down, that he has no right to feel it, but it feels it anyway. His instinct, borne from a life of hard knocks, is to try to defend himself. To say it's not his fault, what happened to Howard.

But he knows that's not true. It is his fault. Howard. The normal people at Lalo's estate. Even the 22-year-old kid at the Travelwire.

Not that he's thinking all of that consciously, right now. It's all lurking, swirling, in his subconscious. In wordless feelings.

Feelings he doesn't have time to dwell on right now; that live and die in an instant. Nacho speaks quickly. ]

Look, man, we didn't have a choice! We got ambushed, okay? [ Deep breath. Jesse probably sees Nacho rubbing his shaved head with a hand, a clear sign of anxiety. ] Some car was chasing us. Pinkman stuck his hand in a dead guy's insides.

What do we do? [ Voice suddenly hopeful, slightly pleading. Please have the answer, Saul. Jimmy. Whoever. ]

[ Jesse's brow raises quizzically when Nacho shouts out the name. He's about to ask who in the fuck Jimmy is, but then--of course. Better Call Saul. Jesse sucks in a breath as he goes digging into his pocket. He knows he's gonna get an earful even asking for a favor like this, and he knows that Goodman's gonna ream him when he finds out about this dead cop.

Jesse looks over at the bodies and the still-smoking wreckage. Maybe it'll just catch on fire and they won't have to speak of any of this again. But it's more likely his luck that it doesn't go down like that. Shit's never that easy. Jesse pulls the phone from his pocket, flipping it open and pressing a number that's on speed dial. He gives Nacho a look before putting it to his ear. After a few rings, Francesca answers the phone. Always screening his calls. ]

Yo. It's Jesse. Yes, Pinkman, who else? Hey, listen - get Saul on the phone. Tell 'im it's a Code Red.

[ Francesca tells Jesse that Saul's busy and Jesse makes an exaggerated face, hand flying up in the air. He turns to look at Nacho to share his frustration when he realizes the mix-up. Oh. Oh he's on the phone already. Okay, then. Jesse flips his phone shut, crisis temporarily averted and swivels his attention on Nacho's phone call, leaning in all close like he might be able to hear. ]

Put it on speaker, man.

[ Jesse says, but Nacho's still talking. He taps Nacho's shoulder and then a moment later, straight up takes the phone out of his hand and presses the speakerphone button, giving him a look. ]

Yo- hey- Saul. It's Jesse. And I didn't stick my hand in some guy's- Listen, there's a boy in blue. He's down. Looks to be dirty. He was, uh, riding with somebody. Maybe cartel, I dunno. They're both gone, I picked up the shell casings, but Mike's busy and we need to get rid of all this real quick like. Or make it look like an accident.

Edited 2023-11-22 07:01 (UTC)

[ Nacho's jaw drops in indignation when Jesse slides the phone out of his hand so easily, and he afixes Jesse with a (completely undeserved) Look of his own. Then he throws up both hands in an annoyed gesture, before listening to Jesse explain things to Saul and now waiting to see what Saul says in response. ]

Pinkman, what--

[His mind is racing, torn between two entirely different worlds, one current and one the life of someone he's sure the world doesn't miss and no one remembers. Pinkman's involved, and somehow, as if he's back from the dead as far as Saul sees it, so is Nacho. He tries to focus on what he's being told, but it's difficult to do that when he sees Lalo's face popping into his mind as regularly as a heartbeat.

(It wasn't me, it was Ignacio, he'd said that to Walt and Jesse back then. Not that it wasn't true, but does Nacho now know about that? There are too many unknowns here.)

He fumbles in his desk drawers, looking for any of his open bottles of Xanax. Not a chance he'll manage to get through the day, let alone this phone call, without it.

Before he can get anything out in response to Nacho, though, he hears a click and suddenly, there's the one and only Jesse Pinkman on the line. In most cases, he'd welcome more information. Really, even in this case, he needs that information to know what sort of mess he's working with here. But hearing this? He gets a sinking feeling in his gut, and that's only half due to the lingering specter of Lalo Salamanca haunting his conscience.]

You're telling me--a cop? Jesus Christ. Did either of you get your fingerprints all over anything other than the guy's insides?

[he, actually, does not want to know whether or not either of them stuck their hands inside of a corpse, thanks.]

What? No! And it wasn't the co-- the uh, the boy in blue. It was the other guy. The driver, and wasn't his insides it was brains, thank you very much for making me relive that moment. Really appreciate it.

[ Jesse sighs aloud, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to push that thought out of his head. He knows it'll keep him up at night later on when he's home and alone with his thoughts. But he has to focus on the matter at hand, so he clears his throat and speaks again. ]

Listen, he wasn't in uniform. This don't even look like one a them unmarked cars, y'know? This is no bust. Look, I mean they tried to run us off the road and they shot first. Maybe whoever this is? They're tryin' to send a message to our boss. So what do we do here, man? I need some intel. First steps.

[ Nacho practically rolls his eyes out of his skull when Jesse clarifies that it was the guy's brains. Oh, okay. Sure, man. How could he forget?

Other than that he's quiet at first, before he pipes up with: ]

'Cause if you don't have any better ideas, Pinkman was gonna torch the car.

[Every word Jesse and Nacho tell him really just makes things worse and worse, in his opinion. Everything going wrong, and it's even harder to focus on any solutions when he's paranoid that Lalo Salamanca is about to break through his door somehow. So much for a nice, low-key work day for him...

Saul swallows a few Xanax pills before trying to focus again on the information he's being told here. It might take a while for the pills to kick in, but they're better than nothing.]

How far out of the way are you right now? Car fire's gonna catch someone's attention, bust or not. If someone isn't already looking for those guys, they will be as soon as any smoke goes up.

[It's a bit to close to yet another Lalo-related personal experience for him, but he knows full well just how empty and desolate the New Mexico desert can be, so burning the car isn't an immediate no, he thinks.]

No ID on either of these guys that you can check without getting your prints everywhere?

[ To be fair, Saul should have gotten the hint straightaway from working with Jesse and Mr. White that this would never be easy nor smooth sailing. Profitable, yes. But that definitely comes with baggage. ]

We're way the hell out here, man. I'm surprised we even got cell service. We were pickin' up dead drops and got ambushed. I checked the IDs already. One of 'em had a badge; the other had a Mexican passport. I didn't recognize either of the names. They shot first, and it's not like they tried to pull us over. So this wasn't any kinda legit attempt at a bust, like I said. I'm thinkin' this is a dirty cop. Maybe using department intel to track us down...I dunno.

[ And too late on the prints, but Jesse will either wipe them off or burn it all. He's not too concerned on that front. ]

Alls I know is we gotta get rid of these bodies and quick. I figure the quickest way is burn it all. Right? Unless you can get somebody out here, like, fast to help with the clean up. Only people I know with tow trucks are Joe - that guy who got rid of the RV or Badger's cousin Cletus...but I'm pretty sure he wants nothin' to do with me anymore.

[ Department intel??? Oh, no no no no no. Nacho's eyes get wide. He feels sick to his stomach.

His thoughts are along the same lines as Saul's. Lalo. A car in the desert. He thinks about somebody coming looking for this car... being disgusted, then suspicious, by the wreck... maybe they should torch it. No evidence? Better that way?

Nacho feels sick to his stomach. He rubs his hands over the back of his head, turning to face away from Jesse. The New Mexico sun feels suddenly, especially scorching. Fring is going to kill him, then kill his dad, then kill anybody who ever looked at either of them.

Don't mind him, guys. He listens to them both talk, silently freaking out and trying not to show it. ~~Go Nacho give us nothing.~~ ]

Edited 2023-12-08 19:09 (UTC)

[Pinkman getting into messes, that he's used to. Nacho's messes tended to be more... messy. More direct blowback onto him. Something Saul's taken care to avoid as much as possible as he built up his current law career. With something like this, with Nacho involved, he doesn't know what to expect.

Not having the hands on, so to speak, view of things and a limited view of evidence based on what Jesse and Nacho picked up in their stressed out states makes this even more difficult for him. Dirty cop, he can agree with that much, and it being out in the middle of nowhere is even more of a boon for them. But even he knows now that being out in the middle of nowhere doesn't mean it won't eventually get discovered.]

Thing with that, though, is we both know there's another interested party who's going to want to comb through that. Careful as that guy is, finding out you torched a car would be the cherry on top of the shit sundae of the disaster that's already happened.

[He doesn't know Gus well, but he knows Gus is about as meticulous and paranoid as they come. But they can't just leave it. He knows that much.]

Anywhere further off the road you could stash it out of sight?

I dunno, man, we're like way the hell out here. Land's all flat. No place to really hide shit. I guess I could try to call a tow truck but it's gonna take 'em a while to make it out here and I don't know if there's anyone who's gonna start lookin' for these guys in the meantime.

[ Jesse rubs at the back of his neck, anxiety crawling up his spine and starting to strangle him. ]

Maybe we just...maybe we just take off? Try an' cover our tracks? Literally. I mean, what if one of us drove and the other, like, wiped out tracks and footprints 'til we got far enough? Without additional tracks it could just look like some kinda accident. At least until they find the rest of the evidence, but we'll be long gone by then.

[He really, really doesn't like any option here. Tow trucks can't guarantee someone who can be bought off, but just leaving the car also creates another, bigger mess. He knows what getting involved in the game and staying in the game brings, he's been doing this long enough to know pretty well, but this is edging close to the part of the deep end where it's almost too deep to touch the ground.]

Right now, as far as I can see, that seems like your best option. Set it up to look like you were never there, just in case someone comes looking. You've gotta swear to me there's nothing that could get back to you. I'm talking no blood drops, no fingernails, no touching anything without a glove. You ever pay attention to the big cases these days? They catch those guys by matching rug fibers left at the scene with some junk left in their back seat.

[But there's so much risk and uncertainty that who knows how long it'll take before someone gets suspicious or stumbles across this.]

Mark down your coordinates, we'll get someone out there to clean it up when you get back. And whatever car you're in? That's gotta go, I don't care how sentimental the car is.

What?

[ Nacho is called back to reality. His eyes are bugging out of his skull. Well, hey! At least he's contributing now, even if what he's contributing is mostly just sheer panic.

But he can't stop thinking about the last time Jimmy decided to just "leave a car" somewhere. About how Lalo had made him pull over to look for it. This situation isn't that one, Nacho knows, but it's similar enough to send the memory to the front and center of this mind.

Not to mention, if the car goes, there's no keeping Fring from finding out. Fuck. Especially if sending "somebody to clean up" means who Nacho thinks it means. ]

W-Wait. "Somebody to clean it up?" You mean Mike? You're sending Mike to get rid of the car? [ Nacho's mouth feels dry, but he quickly gets control of himself. Hides his panic under the same snot-nosed, hard-ass demeanor he'd first had with Jesse. He inhales through his nose.

Not that he doesn't appreciate where Jimmy is going with this...the thing about rug fibers hits a nerve, too. He pictures a "Dateline" episode his dad might fall asleep to, with his name as one of the suspects, and feels sick to his stomach. ]

You, uh, sure about that? No other way? Didn't work out last time you just left a car in the desert.

And we, uh, we have to get rid of the other car? [ Fuck. ] And what, walk back to town? [ Double fuck! ]

If you want it done right, Mike's the only option.

[And Nacho may be willing to take risks to avoid Mike or Fring finding out, but Saul is not. Mike may have been mistaken on more than a few very serious occasions, but Mike also saved his ass more than once. There aren't really people you trust in a business like this, but Mike is about as close as it gets to an honorable, trustworthy person in their line of work.

Plus, he's good at what he does.]

If you've got a better idea, contribute to the brain storming session here. Otherwise, it's get out of town and let Mike clean up later.

[Because sure, Nacho is right about the car, but they were operating on lower resources at that time. Should've reminded Mike to have his guys remove it when he sent them out to clean up that other crash. Not that he likes to think about his time in the desert and what that led to.]

You don't have any, uh... safe houses or hideouts near there? Nowhere you can drive to, stash the car, and call for a pickup?

contact;

better call saul spoilers under the blacked out line.

lmao you don't have an open rp post so I'm using this! hope that's ok!

OH HOH 👀

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

sorry for the late! i forgot to track the thread. it's tracked now though!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject