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May, 2010... Fantasy became reality. Worlds overlay for the briefest moment. Outworlders became stranded on earth as more than half the human populace vanished. Our World, our universe, was transformed.

Fiction is now reality. Humans and those now bound to this world will either learn to coexist, or battle for supremecy.

Bo Salvatierra

Sheut Nation
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199 One of Our All Stars

About Bo Salvatierra

  • Rank
    Nicely Seasoned


    Diego Klattenhoff
  • AGE
  • RACE
  • JOB
    Former Medi*Core Virology/ Biochem/Genetics/Pharm. Specialist
  • 'SHIP:
    Married to Gabriele Salvatierra
    Los Angeles
    Sheut Nation
    Formerly clean cut and impeccable, Bo has let himself slide. Lab coats, suits and shiny shoes discarded for worn military boots, whisker shabby jeans, battered sweaters and hoodies. Where hair was once military shorn, it’s now a mussed shag of ear length buttery colored curls that hint of a typical Czech descent. The urge to cut it is rare. He is, however, always cleanshaven.

    Glasses are usually perched on pale green eyes or pushed up on his head to hold his hair back, the lenses not quite right to the more than casual observer. They are slightly cracked near the top of the frames; he hasn’t had the want or resources to replace them.

    Underneath the shrug of baggy clothes is the rip of trained muscle in a compact frame. Average height, the snap of his sharp colored eyes is still enough to halt a friendly chatter. His features when lit up in a smile are quite warm, with a sharp lick of impulsive yet sweet sarcasm.
    In public he goes by "Triska" and is soft spoken, reserved, and polite; often coming off as cold or aloof. Privately, he is intense and a bit of a smart ass. Hellbent on his work; when it comes to his craft he loses track of everything else, getting lost in it for days on end. He is exceptionally adept in social situations, but prefers to avoid people in his personal time- his work taking up most of his thoughts.

    His main goal is to find and protect his twin sister, terrified of what may have happened to her during the shift. Loyalty drives him to find her, but his intense love for the last of his family is tearing him apart emotionally and mentally. Dealing with severe “ghost pains” and night terrors, he has become desperate. He still feels her, believes she is alive, and deeply fears he will go insane until he can guarantee her safety.

    Desperation has given him a particularly short fuse and complete lack of empathy for anyone that he might see as standing in his way of finding his kin. He would not hesitate killing anyone to save his own life, or the life of his beloved sister.
    A small homestead tucked remotely north of Los Angeles. The house is a modest cabin in a thick acre of woods, two rooms: a workspace and living area. Furnishings are basic, warmly comfortable and covered with books and small spatterings of his sister's art, contrasted sharply by his lab in the other room. The workroom is a jungle of glass, chemicals, and scavenged lab equipment. There is a small arboretum next to the cabin where he grows plants for his work, and occasionally food. Everything is shuttered heavily at night under the threat of intruders.

    He has a military issue CZ 75 with one ammo clip that he keeps in its case under the bed and always carries a fixed blade military knife in the back of his waistband and another on his left boot.

    His only mode of transportation is a repaired 2009 Yamaha FJR1300 ABS that he bought with money earned from selling his work privately to local hospitals. He stores it in the arboretum and only uses it to go into the city to get supplies.

    Frequently, he sells his medicinal items and vaccinations to the closest hospitals and clinics to secure contacts. Typically he's looking for information, but sometimes exchanges them for money so he can purchase supplies he cannot find. He knows how dangerous it is, but is willing to take the risk to get what he needs and keep leads on his sister's whereabouts.
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    Bodhan is a savant.

    He has multiple degrees from numerous international universities. He is fluent in genetics, biology, virology, chemistry and astrophysics and can speak Mandarin, Czech, Spanish and English; which leaves him with a slight accent. Great mechanical knowledge and an ability to tinker make him a prolific inventor as well. Exceptionally gifted, he was an internationally sought after geneticist and astrophysicist until the Resonance, now hiding from the world in fear of what he could be used to create... or destroy.

    Employed by the Czech military for research fresh out of higher education, he has been trained in basic hand-to-hand combat, knife and firearm skills and can hold his own in a fight.

    He has exceptional knowledge of medicine and epidemiology. Though not a doctor, he can make useful pharmacology with relatively limited resources; a key component in the desire for him as a researcher.

    His theories surrounding the Nevus are groundbreaking, something he takes great care in hiding from the world.
    .............giggle soft, a sharp whiff came from between his lips to get the strawberry curls off his face. Her warmth was so comforting, snuggled against his chest in a blanket, their noses touching as they basked in the thick heaviness of the morning. She’d jumped into bed next to him, seemingly only to annoy the piss out of him. It never worked, even when she kept tickling his nose. He never felt complete unless she was close, sharing a womb together could do that…

    Sometimes their affection was mistaken for something other than siblings... it didn't bother them. People who weren't twins, would never understand anyway.

    He whiffed at the curls again

    “Wake up silly,” Maree whispered, “it’s 7am. It’s the last day of your assignment… then we can go somewhere cooler for a vacation.”

    His pale eyes snapped open frantically before the blanket was thrown off.

    She openly laughed as he scampered around the room trying to find everything he needed before bolting to the shower, but not before taking the time to boff a pillow directly at her face.

    Bacon was already sizzling before he got out of the shower in the LA apartment he shared with his twin sister. He came tripping into the kitchen, half in a suit, half still getting dressed, reaching into the fridge to gulp milk from the carton.

    “Stop that,” she hissed, snapping off the TV as she spied him watching the news.

    He was always distracted by turmoil. Intense turmoil it seemed this time in Africa... which meant that would be where he wanted to go next. He needed time off first.

    “It’s so good like this,” he grinned like a fool. “Long day today, have to turn in all my ID’s.”

    He took another gulp, and returned it to the fridge, tucking in his shirt and crunching on bacon as he tied his tie. Suitcoat was thrown on, a muffled “bye” through toast stuffed between his lips.

    “Get back soon, then we can pack,” she smiled brightly. “I can’t pull our tickets up yet for some reason. Internet is down. I’ll get that figured out while you’re gone.”

    He smiled his pearly teeth at her over the toast and closed the door. Taking the elevator, he finished his toast and brushed off the crumbs. The car was already waiting for him and he climbed in calmly, whisked away to the high security lab he’d been working in for a little over a year. He patted his pocket absently, cell phone not there. He cursed himself quietly, he never forgot it. The day was quick, stark lab coats sterile, his rusty Mandarin now sharpened to a point working with his lab partners for the last month. Outbreak of tuberculosis in the northernmost parts of Asia. Resistant to all vaccines, it had taken him a while to figure it out. All that was left was to slap labels on the boxes of medicine and send them out.

    Turning in his key card and ID in the security office at the front of the compound, the first steps into the street were liberating. Home. He’d made enough money to pay off his loans, move back overseas and take a look at the quaint job he’d been offered at the university. This job had been great, a little on the secretive side, some of his superiors a bit aloof and odd, but they’d made a lot of progress and they were pleased.

    Let them figure out what to do with the other things he’d discovered.

    He waited a few moments in the dark for his car, looking at his watch and patting his pocket to find it again empty where his cell phone should have been.

    He waited.

    Chewing his lip, he turned and walked back into the doors. They were locked. Peering inside, there was no one. He banged on the glass.


    Traffic was quiet, not unusual after dark. Everyone was driven in and out of the compound.

    Perhaps he’d missed his ride?

    He started walking, an odd sensation making his skin crawl. Where was everyone? His pace picked up, the sudden frantic clutch of panic in his chest turning his gate into an outright run. His sister was scared, terrified, he could feel it. Block after block, tie long pulled free, he ran up the steps to his apartment.

    “Maree!” he screamed, turning the corners of the stairs so sharply while looking up he was making himself dizzy.

    Panic bar was smashed into on his floor. The doors were open, all the doors, every door. TV’s still on, ovens cooking, fire alarms screaming.

    “Maree! Kde jsi!“

    Their door was broken open, her cell phone on the kitchen table. Bacon grease stank, burned away from the pan hours ago, the burner still on.

    Blood. There was blood everywhere.

    “Kde jsi!“

    Tears had sprung to the corners of his eyes, tearing out the bottom drawer of his nightstand to pull out his pistol and load it. Turning sharply, eyes wild, he fired... the inhuman scream seizing his chest.

    He fired, then fired again...............


    His nightmare is always the same. Looking into eyes he didn't recognize, killing, blood everywhere, haunted by the prospect it was his sister. Nothing left of the creature's face after the flurry of bullets to determine whether or not is actually was haunts even his daylight hours, and inches him closer to insanity every day.

    Comfortable in his close-knit tiny family, they were inseparable. After the death of their parents in a car accident on an autobahn in Germany, they made a promise to always stay together. Maree'Anca was content to be in his shadow, approving or disproving of his girlfriends and choices, and he the same to her. Their companionship became the comfort of brother and sister, intertwined with the duty of parenting each other.

    He followed his dreams and drive to learn everything he could get his hands on, fueling his brilliant gifted mind. She pursued her art and writing at the leisure of the money he so freely shared with her. It took them around the world, exposed her to cultures that she absorbed into her work as he cured and saved the lives of countless people stricken with disease and misery. It was a state of peaceful happiness.

    Then the world ended.

    His sanity now ticks dangerously like a bomb.

    Past means nothing to him, not the degrees or the money, his military service or honors, the homeland he'd left or the countless lives he saved with his work.

    Nothing matters anymore except finding her and protecting her with his knowledge. He goes by the name "Triska" in public; only his sister called him by his middle name and she would recognize it.

    He works incessantly to find a "cure" to whatever ails her, knowing in the back of his mind it will never happen. Nonetheless, he moves forward to keep his mind from focusing on the empty hole in his psyche. He will either find her, or put a bullet in his brain before he iis forced to use his skills to serve someone other than his own mind.

Profile Fields

  • Primary
    Bodhan "Triska" Marin
  • All My Characters
    Bodhan "Triska" Marin (Salvatierra)
    Maree'Anca "Jo" Marin
    Kai Alexander Morgan
    Kett Evangline
    Rhome Del Santo
    Rorye Shannon-Kearney
    Shalheira Lharithlyn- INACTIVE
    Jacob Minor
    Saxon Terrano- INACTIVE
    Josef Carroll Boudreaux
    Calista Burke
    Boone (Paddy) Fitzpatrick
    Calder Muireadach
  • Typist's Interests
    Monster maker
  • Typist's Role Play History
    Before online was a thing
  • Role Play Sample
    Snow was rifled from his hair, stepping into a doorway that lived silently under a half collapsed awning. The weight of the drifting snow was immense, crushing the right side to create a wall. The bright white of the blizzard even in the sunset was intense, eyes not adjusting to the sudden shadows within the gaping doorway. It was the kitchen back door of a swank, tiny restaurant at one time. Stripped of all its candor, the kitchen was stark and quiet, the small dining room dark with its deep wood, plush carpet and shuttered windows… but the fireplace, inviting and waiting for a fire.

    A great place to spend the night.

    He’d almost tripped, stumbling forward slightly before straightening and shuddering from head to toe. Small sprinkles of snow flittered to the dark floor, the curious cock of his head quick as his eyes adjusted to the light.

    A form was huddled near the door, not moving… no doubt caught by the sudden flare of snow that had blanketed the city for far too long. Fingers slid into his pockets, taking a step forward. The man was huddled against the wall, knees to his chest… caught by the snow… a sad sight. Tapping his shoe against his, there was no response.

    He knelt, reaching to press two fingers against his shoulder. Lips were almost white, dark blue circles beneath his eyes.

    He was still.

    Great, a fucking corpse.

    He stood, a long seethe through his nose. Cold, he didn’t feel like going back out and wading through the snowdrifts back home. Night was coming. Temperature was dropping. This wasn’t good. He didn’t feel like spending the night with a friggin’ corpse.


    Gathering the remnants of several broken tables, he snapped them sharply and tossed them into the hearth, stuffing it with a gaudy tablecloth to catch the flame. Pulling a lighter, he waited till it caught, tending to it until it blazed. Warming his fingers for a bit, he stood, knees creaking and pulled the gaggle of garish velvet curtains for a cushy place to spend the night.

    But first.

    “Sorry buddy.”

    His voice was always soft, reminiscent of a calm before the storm.

    He didn’t touch him for a while, listening to the crackle of the fire behind him. Strange… usually there was someone that remained, clinging to the body, making it clear that he wasn’t welcome. It was silent, quiet, as if he wasn’t dead at all. Sliding his hands under his arms, he lifted… immediately dropping him back to the floor.

    Eyes narrowed suspiciously, scuffed steel toe tapping at him again.

    He wasn’t stiff enough to be dead. Kneeling again, he brought flaring nostrils along the skin of his face.



    His body scrambled upward, and dodged through the kitchen… reaching outward he pulled the rest of the awning down with a thundering crash to bar the door closed and keep the heat in. The windows had drifted and would insulate against the wind. Lifting a stainless steel table to cover the outside door already somewhat closed off by the awning, he secured it in place with the oven and did the same to the small dining room. They were enclosed from the elements. Dragging a shredded couch five feet from the fireplace, he threw a curtain over it… creating a small barrier around the hearth to collect heat.

    He picked him up in one fell swoop, putting him as close to the fire as he could as he pulled off clothing. Skin was like ice, firm hands rubbing from his shoulders down his arms to create some sort of friction heat. Moving to the center of his chest he rubbed sharply in a brisk circle.

    “C’mon man”

    He’d never felt someone so cold… his hand slowing down. Perhaps he’d been wrong, maybe he was just crazy. Leaning the man’s face toward his, he drew a slow breath near his lips, scenting the cold breath that still moved from them.

    How in the hell could this man still be alive?

    There was no reason for him to keep this man alive, whispers across his ears of the dead that now walked silent through the city’s shadows chiding him for even trying. Perhaps that’s what made him work harder… the need to hear another’s voice other than those that were in his head.

    He blinked at his own thoughts, eyes focusing on the flicker of the fire as he leaned the small framed man back from his face. Pulling up the thick blanket curtains that were now starting to retain fierce heat, he’d created a shield from the cold at his back, and a catch for the heat rolling from the fire. He could no longer see his breath, beads of sweat glittering at his temples.

    Brain snapped back to the most pressing, lifting the rest of the thick curtains over him.

    He, was here for sleep. Perhaps he’d wake up next to a dead body, it wouldn’t be the first time. It would be the first time he remembered how they’d died, and probably the first it wasn’t his doing.
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  1. Hay there


    Saw you were looking for threads. Any idea what you could do with Branden? Just a crazy idea I guess but you have multiple characters and I'm sure we could come up with something.




    1. Show previous comments  1 more
    2. Brandon Valosa

      Brandon Valosa

      lol ok so let's iron out some ideas then. I just have the one character. so let's look at what you think would be a good match?

    3. Bo Salvatierra

      Bo Salvatierra

      I would say to look at the major site story arcs and figure out how your character fits into them- that will help guide which character he could interact with.  Meeting up in a "cold call" situation is great for conversation, but I've found it doesn't connect my chars into anything deeper that could lead to more threads.  I would suggest the Outworlder threads.  Calder, Durion, Rhyse are in that one.  He could also link with anything Pharos because of his artifact- Boone, maybe Darius as well.  The collapse of ARMA and rash of assassinations in the Order may also affect him if he starts to show any type of magic affinity- Rhome and Raeden are tied into that.

    4. Brandon Valosa

      Brandon Valosa

      Currently, he is in New York City. Brandon is working for a company that restores houses though he has a degree from Harvard, the new one so not nearly as good as it would have been before the Resonance, and has been looking for work with the police as a forensic scientist/investigator. 


      Writing with Boone at the moment and enjoying that. 


      If you have read any of the threads he has been in Brandon has just learned he is an outworlder.  Up until that time he believed he was an altered human.  The artifact he has will certainly place him in the magic area seeing he just used it in a bookstore, see "Words in Wax." There was somone from ARMA present when he did it as well.


      Hope this helps.



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