In another moment, that taxi could have been a somewhat entertaining subject to study, an amalgamation of many different subcultures telling a non-linear story about the owner of the vehicle, going through plentiful of his tastes, psyches and emotions. One could say that a tale could be told by the small memorabilia and stickers that were glued mainly to the dashboard and the windshield, cultural references demonstrating a loving pride of his homeland, and a certain interest in cartoon-ish references from characters unknown by the general public. In other moment, all that could be said and payed attention too, at that moment, after hours of uncomfortable flight, Faria could sum it all up as Rodrigo being a disorganized and childish hoarder.<br/><br/>She opened the door and sat on the back seat, Tatiana having already found a place for her to get relatively comfortable, and as soon as her weight went from her legs to the vehicle, the sound of something rusty and old bothered her, her face looking at her partner with her eyes wide open in disbelief , as they shared a non-verbal conversation about all the things that were wrong with their contact.<br/><br/>No longer then a few moments later, Rodrigo opened the door to the driver's seat, putting down his considerable weight on the seat and closing the door.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"> "Ai ai ai... I tell you, Chicas. We have some distance to cover. Here is the thing: They game me this..... pasta? This reporte here." </span>He pulled up a binder from the passenger's seat, seemingly bland and uncharacteristic. It was common for the mission reports to look like that, the only thing that called to both Faria and Tatiana's attention was a small paper seal that was broken, showing that someone had already opened it and had access to the report inside.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"> "So, this is for the two of you, but, I heard that you would be getting here tired, so I did read the thing so that I can explain it to you on the way.Isn't that a  good idea, eh?!...Also, internet on my phone was crap."</span><br/><br/>The more streamlined and correct Faria felt a small heart attack incoming, as such reports were not for the general public, and the last time that they saw someone else having "possible" access to one of those binders, the person was detained for questioning and god know what else. This.... buffoon of a taxi driver having read the whole thing could mean a world of hurt for someone, and a gigantic head ache for both the girls, even if they did nothing wrong.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">"You... read it?" </span>She asked, with her heart at her throat, taking the binder and pulling it close to herself, hugging the thing trying to protect it, looking foolish to the less bureaucratic Tatiana.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"Si, Si. And you two will have quite a lot to do. But, just give me uno minute." </span>*His accent was comically latino, and his mixing of words from both languages almost seemed forced, resulting in a larger then life way of speaking. He was turning the key and starting the car, who, despite all appearances of old and rusty, sprang to life right away. The low hum of the car caused another surprising effect, as many of the objects on the dashboard, ranging from bobble-heads, collections of small chains of bells and a dream catcher to also move to the vibration, swinging slightly and creating a set of small sounds that mixed interestingly.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"So, here is the thing: There is this town. Its really really small, called La Macarena, and it is just near a natural reserve called Caño Canoas. Apparently they made the place a natural park because shit went down a lot of years ago and a few of the things that lived there got cojones enough to fight back. So, BAM, they made a deal, and the park is their home now. But for some years, they got sneaky beaky and broke the rules under the sheets. So, I guess the council got tired of ignoring the strange things happening here." </span><br/><br/>His way of explaining certainly was off, but it summed it up nicely enough, even though Faria was still somewhat shocked that she was the only one worried that such info was "leaked" to a taxi driver, and said taxi driver seemed to believe in those things. Her eyes went to the sweaty man and back to Tatiana, waiting for some action from any of them, while the car was already leaving the parking lot of the airport.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"Eh, you two okay back there? Did I put you two in the trunk and placed the bags in the back seat?"</span>Rodrigo asked, turning his head to look behind at the two women who had spoke little to this point. Though, to their panic, he did so while continuing to drive, not looking forward.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000"> "Yes, sorry. It has been a long flight. I guess we are just tired, we.... could not get a moment of sleep in the plane. Rodrigo, the road."</span>Faria responded, not knowing in which way she could talk to that man, if she would be able to reprimand him for his acts, or if she should treat him nicely by simple courtesy. His lack of social norms confused her.<br/><br/>Though, her call to the road made him look forward to traffic again, even though there was no immediate danger of collision.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"Bah, relax. Been driving in this town enough! The worst that could happen is you two being so silent other people will think this is a funeral. Come on, talk a bit more!"</span>