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MATURE RPG


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.

JUNE 13, 2019 - Family emergency  took a bad turn so had to stay away but now things are finally calming down. Hope to get going again shortly. Thanks for understanding. ~ZEPH

Bo Salvatierra

Sheut Nation
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Everything posted by Bo Salvatierra

  1. Bo Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    Stunned to silence. Of the horrendous things he’d done in his life since the Event, everything he’d done to survive… he’d never done anything to hurt anyone who truly didn’t deserve it, let alone someone he loved. Thoughts that Gabe could and would eventually heal were little comfort. Words of encouragement that Gabe himself offered were of no comfort either. He was dangerous, unstable… with a wealth of knowledge that could be more than deadly. Catastrophic. A short sigh was quiet. He was dead in the water. “I want to go home.” The amorphous request didn’t specify where home was. To Prague? To Shadow? Did he really even have a home? He’d just blown up one, if that ever really was one. Prague was, nothing anymore but a vapid wasteland of broken civilization. So why home? He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to sulk in the privacy of somewhere where he didn’t have to answer to anyone. There it was, the recluse that had hounded him all his life. Be alone with his thoughts. Now, even he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. What would he do then? “I just want to go home,” the numbers in the monitor were already blurry, they began to blur even more. “…and stop hurting people.” It was the truth of a lifetime. Become, not him. Bury the scientist, become the book keeper and occasional drunk flirt when he’d had too much vodka. It was exactly why he’d withdrawn away from everyone, he didn’t want to exist anymore. Full circle. It had come full circle since the night the big brute had stuck a knife in his ribs. He didn’t know who he was, and in trying to find it, he hurt people he loved. It didn’t even matter that he’d saved so many, if even one was hurt… his work was… Side of his lip quirked upward at the brush of his collarbone and the goofy grin on the Spaniard’s face. Blink was quick away from the glowing blurry numbers to the bald soon-to-be husband. “Sorry… just zoned out for a minute.” Fuzzy. Everything had been fuzzy for a few moments. He still had a concussion, he was sure of it. He wanted to go home. He wanted Gabe to heal. He wanted to make things right with Jacob. “Better grow back…” the shy glance up at Gabe and back to his lap hinted of a joke. “Look weird in a tux without…”
  2. Bo Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    Lip quirked upward at the chuckle. He knew Gabe was upset, he wasn't ignorant to that... it was just, the man was really sensitive... and he had no other way to weasel through to him than humor. He wasn't used to people not knowing what he was thinking. It just meant, well fuck, they needed to really spend more time together. Cough shot pain through those thoughts, the compression of his chest welcome... bringing his breathing back to a normal flow. The visual of his Spaniard, was not. Brow furled at the man, taking in what had happened. Fire.. sun.. none of the above..?? Someone else while he was away? The expressions flickering over his face from guilty, to anger... revenge promised to whomever had done it... then back to guilt. "I did this.." Face scrunched tight as he rubbed his eyes, already guilty and on a teetering edge- he just knew. Brain put back together the time of day he'd fled the plane, when he started his 'cleansing' of his property, how long it would take Jacob to tattle, Gabe to travel. Sun or fire. Maybe both. "I'm always fucking things up." Fingers closed over the hand on his chest, the exhale a small wheeze. It wasn't true, he knew it wasn't true... even the inkling that he'd probably just helped save the eastern seaboard didn't make up for the fact that his actions had hurt Gabe. Face released, swallow thick. "How long will it take you to... get better..." They never talked about stuff like that... the Czech always burning with questions but never asking. "Lot less than my collarbone I would imagine.."
  3. Bo Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    Quite the explosion. If he only knew. He didn't think Gabe truly understood the level at which he operated. It was only a short distance between safety and fury with him. What he said in Glamis had not been a threat. He could deliver everything he promised. At this point though, he wanted to disappear and leave it behind. Superficially, he knew he'd done that, truly... he knew he never could. Everyone else in the damn world had been able to reinvent themselves, why was he the only one that wasn't allowed to? Pale eyes flicked to him, hand patting the top of his head again to find his glasses. Eyes weren't much better, had he lost the damn things? Dull stare focused on the hills his legs made under the white blankets, fuzzy around the edges of his vision. Bad vision, meds, pain, exhaustion... yet he listened. Lashes blinked slowly and the quirked expression cocked his brow as he sought the man out in the darkness. Was he avoiding him because...? Because he thought the Czech wanted out? God damn it. The most hard headed, brilliant yet oblivious person he had ever met... "Jesus criminey Gabe..." He flopped back on the mountain of pillows with a defeated huff, followed by a pained seethe. Okay, the collar bone hurt a lot. Ginger temper and impatience. Eyes closed, back of his hand resting on his forehead. "Jacob wishes we were done... " He mumbled it under his breath. That was a shit storm they were going to have to bring to the table, soon. Jacob was like a damn guard dog that wanted to take a chunk out of his arm because the man didn't deem the ginger worthy. "I don't eat, sleep unless you remind me to and you don't even NEED to eat... your office is constantly covered in my paper crap. I drink from the carton, hide your booze and let you drive that French German Italian bastard car like a bat out of hell, and your best friend hates my guts. You shouldn't be putting up with me.: He paused a long time, dry throat finally cracking a quiet voice. It was becoming very apparent there was some serious friction between he and the bouncer. "My brain never stops moving. I run on a clock that nobody understands. Glamis feels like yesterday. The shit storm over the last few days in New York feels like forever ago. I didn't realize it had been so long since Scotland. I wasn't feeling like... myself at the cabin after Maree showed up." Hand moved off his forehead under his own power to take a drink. "Ten years of my life learning to be alone, okay with the idea of putting a gun in my mouth up until you stuck a knife in my ribs and... filled this... hole in my life. I almost didn't want her to be alive, then I felt guilty for that. I've only ever had to rely on one other person in my life. Now there's two... and I feel guilty I want her to stay in New York, and us here. Like I'm betraying her because I want to stay here with you." Glass clinked softly on the table. "I was avoiding. Sorry for that." Sorry didn't seem like enough... hi I ignored you for months because I couldn't get my shit together, then go on a suicide mission, come back alive and blow myself up. Sorry. Thumb wiped crusted moisture from the outside corners of his eyes. "I'm a nerd... you know nerds have no social skills until after a few whisky shots." Lips pursed up slightly, his quirky humor urging the older man to loosen up. They were oddly perfect together, two suns caught in each others gravity. "I'll get you something. It will take a while though, but that's the point. Not supposed to be easy. If it was easy, it wouldn't be worth fighting for.." Sigh was soft, met with a cough and sharp 'fuck'. He had to get out of this damn bed...
  4. Bo Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    His head was THROBBING, blurry eyes blinking down at the IV that was embedded under his skin. It all seemed so logical when he’d done it; the disastrous mess was slowly unravelling into a threadbare sequence of stupidity. He had to own it, he wanted to own it. He was by no means a coward, the Czech spitfire opening his mouth to serrate an ego more times than he could count… it also seemed, a little selfish. HE wanted to erase his past. HE wanted to set things right to make HIM feel better. And here he was. Was he better? Maybe. Eyes blinked at the shadow holding the book. Something was wrong. What the fuck had he done now? I might…… I might need some clarity on that last point. “Huh?” It sprouted from his lips. “Accounting? You don’t want me on your books anymore? I mean… I know Jacob and I don’t really get along but I can at least sit in an office and do them instead… I mean, I don’t know… my set of job skills is not exactly the safest most employable market at this point in time considering…” The huff was defeated, eyes again staring down at his hands. “Just no way to make any money and I’m not asking you to pay for your own damn ring… because that’s, rude.” Free fingers scritched through the mess of curls, a wince bringing his arm back down again. He hurt, the groan exasperated. Sedatives always had the opposite effect, they made him antsy and irritated when he was awake. “What did I do Gabe… I fucked everything up didn’t I…Jacob told you what happened didn’t he?” Sigh long, lashes lowered slightly, the soft beep of the monitor and darkness lulling to sleep, voice a little embarrassed, and a little defeated... “Never mind… it’s just a book, I’ll get you something better when I get the money.”
  5. Soooooo... I meant to write tonight but the storms keep knocking out the power. Good intentions....

    1. Show previous comments  1 more
    2. Gabriele Salvatierra
    3. Gabriele Salvatierra

      Gabriele Salvatierra

      ................much much better.

    4. Gabriele Salvatierra

      Gabriele Salvatierra

      ..much...........much........................much......better. *wiggles brows*

  6. Bo Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    He could feel the apprehension. He’d felt it for some time. The Czech hadn’t been particularly forthcoming with anything lately. Hightailing it across the country, jumping on a plane at a moment’s notice at the mere whisper of a phone call. In truth, he was floundering...lost... jealous. Jealous of the relationships Gabe seemed to have with everyone around him. Connections. Friends. He had none. Jealous the most, of Jacob. He didn’t know why. There seemed to be a bond there that he felt like he’d never come close to cracking. He wasn’t sure exactly what the bouncer did, but he knew he wasn’t human. Is that why he was trusted on his own? No. Jacob could kick someone’s ass at the drop of a hat. He needed to learn. He could throw a punch, shoot a gun, had enough ginger anger to bring down a mountain- but he was only human. Hand patted absently on the top of his head, glasses. He didn’t know where they were. In his bag? If they were in his bag they were probably toast. Blurred lashes watched the Spaniard come closer with his bag, and he searched the pockets… gently… for glasses that he couldn’t find. Even gripping the zipper was difficult- finding it easier to turn the bag on his lap than to lift his arm to unzip things. The first, the dirty box. [bodhan]This is research I took from Medi*Corps. It might… help. It’s all I have left. The rest is in my head.[/bodhan] In truth, he really didn’t want it in his head either, the flicker across his brow saying just that Sigh pushed it down, hand reaching into the bag to pull out his book. [bodhan]I burned my place. Nothing left. No past. No nothing. I don’t want to do this anymore. All I’ve done is just, make the world worse. I just want to be... just be...[/bodhan] He held out the book to the figure that was just out of his sight in the shadows, blurred further by the darkness and lack of glasses. Had he lost them at the hospital? He’d lost them at the hospital…. [bodhan]So… this is all I kept. I wanted you to have it… parents gave it to me after I learned Spanish.[/bodhan] He was quiet a moment. [bodhan]Don’t have a ring anymore, so this will have to do…? …at least until I make some money working your books so I can get something.[/bodhan]
  7. Crazy week is over, will catch up this weekend

  8. Bo Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    "It’s a safe house Bodhan….. the doctor is Sheut… we are safe here. You are safe here…." He didn’t know anymore. Who was safe, what was safe?? Was there anyone to trust… good god he sounded paranoid. He’d been paranoid for years, apparently now he knew there was definitely a reason he should have been. Water… water water. Eyes flickered upward in the darkness to the Sheut, lifting a hand with a grumble to tepidly take the glass into his own control. Could he even move? He felt like he’d been asleep for years. He’d miscalculated the explosion. When had he gotten so sloppy… hence the worry about his backpack. It was one of the only things he’d bothered to save from his hideaway lab. "….you made the world in seven days too?" It stopped his rambling tirade of flipping through everything he’d ever done, trying to find clues to sinister intentions that he’d missed. Blink was quiet, the words rang true but the heaviness remained in his chest. "…you know….. the viruses…… they predate all of us….. predate our wars….predate your science…." Mouth opened to say something… most sort of did, sort of… he listened to how the world worked, eyes on the darkness of the water in his hand. He’d pretty much figured it had to be that way. "…. but truth was they had gone dormant…. waiting…. damn Nevus woke them up again… twisted them… strengthened them against what had killed them off in the first place.. at least…. we think so." Had the Nevus done it? It made him even question what the world knew of these things prior to the world going to hell. Was it just a helpful coincidence? He had no idea, and it made his brain hurt to try and think about it, telling his thoughts to shut the fuck up. [bodhan]…my backpack,[/bodhan] he said again. Thoughts were clearing, panic subsiding, the reality of what had happened over the last week settling back down around his shoulders. Gabe was sharing all these things with him, things he probably shouldn’t be sharing, and he didn’t want to hear any of it, talk about any of it. …it felt very empty. Without his science, his constant thought process, what was he? He didn’t know anything else, wasn’t an artist like his sister. The side of his hand rested on his thigh, water obliterated again, the hum of a touch on his IV giving him a long sigh. He wasn’t good at anything else, no idea what to do now. What could he do now? It was obvious he was just a danger to himself and others. [bodhan]There’s two things in it for you. One needs to be locked up immediately, the other… is for you.[/bodhan]
  9. Bo Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    His backpack had floated to the front of his mind, almost an obsessive point of interest. It had to be protected because of what was in it, but the most important thing to him at the moment wasn’t a decade of research in old composition notebooks…. "…shhh… I got it… don’t worry… its here..take it easy.. you have been out for several days." Days… Days??? Head shook gently as the fingers lightly pulled through the bangs. "It can wait Bodhan…." [bodhan]No… no..[/bodhan] It couldn’t wait… everything though, fucking hurt. The only thing that didn’t was the ruffle of hair on his forehead. Calming, pushing the obsession back for a moment only to allow other worries to seep in. Breath started to regulate, reality, the reality of what he’d done. Nobody would ever forgive him. Head lay back on the pillow with another sigh, a burning moisture from his lashes leaking down his temples to pool on the pillow beneath. He’d screwed up… so badly. Horrifically... "…no…… I wasn’t there for you…." He went to protest, the “no” never quite cracking through a dry throat, filled with emotion that was going to take forever to get over. Sniffle was soft as he took another long breath when the Spaniard stopped him from trying to get up. "… I got some water for you… hold on." Wince was deep as the bed was raised, he was afraid to ask what else was wrong; flitting panic of danger mixing with pain and self-loathing. They shouldn’t be here, they shouldn’t be trusting anyone. [bodhan]Can’t stay… we shouldn’t be here…[/bodhan] …but water, water was something he would stay for. Hand came up to try and take the glass, groan again sharp. Was his arm broken? No, maybe… something in his collarbone as well. He was caught in the explosion, it was the only explanation. How had Gabe gotten there? Jacob. ….water….. withered throat swallowed eagerly. It hit a dead stomach that hadn't eaten in days of unconsciousness, and not well before that... "… have pain killers for you…. can give it now if you need it… the sedation is all wearing off…. IV is just fluids at this point…" Eyes fluttered at the touch, playing with his hair was always calming. Always had been… fond memory of the man giving him a haircut after being sprung from the wild woods. "… this is a private clinic… we are the only ones here. Doctor finally went home after you were stitched up." He was quiet for a while, eyes adjusting to the darkness. Fingers worked up the gumption to reach up and wipe the moisture from his lashes. He didn’t even know where to being to explain what he’d done. [bodhan]…backpack, I have something for you in my backpack.[/bodhan] Voice was stronger, but still ravaged by lack of use and dehydration. [bodhan]..it’s the only thing that matters anymore. Not my science, or my mind… or my work.[/bodhan] Heel of his hand rubbed his eye sockets, throat constricted to the point where it was difficult to breathe, to keep from breaking into a full rash of sobs. [bodhan]…never going to pick up a pencil again..[/bodhan] Sniffle broke the shadows, the crash of guilt prickling from head to toe… sobs controlled for the sake of not completely losing his shit, but it hurt, ragged breath brought in. He was trying to stave off a rush of self-loathing, it wasn't working. [bodhan]..this… what happened in New York, this world… it’s all my fault.[/bodhan]
  10. Bo Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    Everything was so heavy, incredibly groggy and thick. At some point, a woman’s voice. It wasn’t Maree’s or Eris. Someone he didn’t know. It should have alarmed him, the questions… ones that would have been frantic if it weren’t for the assistance of a body full of strange drugs. Was he somewhere? Had he been captured? Kidnapped? Dashed. Shadows and light through blurry lashes, the beep of a monitor. He was in a hospital. Gabe’s voice, tangled with another’s. Had the plane crashed? Jacob? He heard Jacob’s name. The movement of a chair, the feel of something in his hair. Time was always warped in subtle consciousness, drifting somewhere between reality and sensory images of memories brought forth by extreme stress. It may have been minutes. Hours. Days. Hearing was a slight static, crackling every so often, pressure on his skin. Memories intense heat, sound, sliding. Sudden. Everything was so sudden. Frustration. Anger. Guilt. God, the guilt. Explosion, sound of glass against bone. It took a moment, zeroing in, the pressure of trying to remember his last seconds of consciousness finally coming forth from oblivion. He’d fucked up. Jacob had probably tattled. Gabe had gone after him. Now he was in a hospital, he shouldn’t be in a hospital… too dangerous now after the shit he’d pulled in New York. Throat cleared slightly, dry and thick, lashes moving in a slow blink. His head hurt. Everything hurt, head rolling slightly to look across the shadows of the room and the figure in the chair. Blurry. Dizzy. Throbbing on the back of his skull. [bodhan]..Gabe.. backpack…[/bodhan] Words were quiet, only breath. In grogginess, nothing was ever logical. [bodhan]…have something.. for you..[/bodhan] His backpack had the notes he’d kept from the world, buried almost a decade because they were in his head. Also… meager clothes, weapon, and a book. The only one he’d retrieved. Time was lost again, a long sigh in a tired state. [bodhan]…I screwed up.[/bodhan] Swallow thick, he tried to move, a groan erupting with more timbre than his voice could muster to that point. [bodhan]I screwed up…[/bodhan] he said again, content to be still until he could shake off the grog, pain starting to clear it up rather quickly.
  11. Bo Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    It was warm, and quiet… the edge of dusk as the sun twinkled through trees that lead to the silent highway. Dishes washed, turned over in the tiny strainer on the side of the sink. Hair ruffled quietly from the breeze shifting through the screen, warm as well over the long grass around his haven. Dishes dried and squeaked, put away, button up shirt rolled up to his elbows allowing him to dry his arms off and toss the towel over the rack next to the window. He stood there a long time, breathing in the warmth of darkness rolling in for a few moments before he would have to shutter for the night, bits of long curls tickling across his forehead again. Lanterns were turned off in almost all the rooms, one in his bedroom turned as low as it went. Windows were closed and shutters clicked. A spoon, a jar of peanut butter, and a whisper of a rocking chair on the tiny ranch porch were found. The undernourished, yet incredibly strong Czech sat in his favorite chair, feet up on the railing as he watched the sun go down, drinking vodka from the bottle and a spoonful of peanut butter on his tongue every so often. Darkness came too quickly, the scientist sequestering himself into his haven. At first, it was a nightly danger, hiding from the things trying to kill the world. Tapered. Then eventually, nothing. It had been… years? Still, he couldn’t be too careful. The one time he would try to feel the breeze in the middle of the night was the night something would try to eat his face. Locking the door, he thought he’d left the lamp on. Small cabin was dark. Pitch. Lighter was pulled from his back pocket, spoon and jar tucked in his elbow, vodka bottle in his other hand. It flicked, then flicked again. Finally, a wane light. Cutting through nothing. Darkness pressed in from everywhere, a twinge of panic as the further he walked, the more empty the darkness felt. Dropping the bottle and jar, it made no noise and fell into darkness. The smell of smoke ticked at his temple, lighter becoming too hot to hold and flickering out to leave him in the heavy and disorienting darkness. There was another presence... "It has been a long few days and I am in no mood for games." A terrible breath sucked into the deathly silent form, the heart monitor beginning to scream as its rhythmic blip suddenly burst into arrhythmic cacophony cutting through the calm of the room. Muscles were rigid, then moved in rapid seizure. [bodhan]I don’t know the answers your other questions.[/bodhan] It barely left his lips, long exhale as muscles released and went completely lax. Beeping halted, then slowly began again. The darkness screamed at him, his voice in his head. Silent fists beating on the shutters in the pitch of a cabin that no longer existed. Lashes were fluttering violently… fighting unconsciousness, fighting hallucinations, his head felt like it was going to explode. Muscles twitched across his cheek every few moments, lashes parting slightly for the first time. Breaths were in paced heaves, eyes staring at the ceiling for a long moment, one pupil a pinpoint, the other other eerily engulfing the light jade before closing again. It wasn’t real. He was trapped. Where…? Darkness? [bodhan]… duchové….není reálné... upíři nejsou skutečné...[/bodhan] ((..ghosts… not real… vampires are not real…)) Everything went silent again… [bodhan]…siguiente vez ... una cama ... te prometo..[/bodhan] Words were almost silent, no voice behind them, only air as it breathed out of a chest that was barely moving. Lips remained parted slightly, a twitch across his cheek lifting the corner of his lips up briefly, then falling again to silence. Trapped in a different darkness.
  12. Bo Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    His fault. His fault. His fault. The words kept repeating over and over in his head, a throbbing annoyance that quickly fell into a self-loathing mantra. On the way to Eris’ runway in the dark-windowed cars of the Sheut. On the plane when the catastrophe was over and everyone’s blood pressure was back to normal except his. He knew Jacob was trying to talk to him, mend a rift somehow…. he didn’t feel like talking. He didn’t feel like much of anything. His sister, he’d never seen anything like it. She was mum in Glamis about being changed no matter how much he alluded to wanting to know, not really responsive to his questions. Nobody was responsive to his questions. Gabe hid shit, even about his sister. Maree hid shit about herself. Eris hid shit… hell even the meathead across from him hid shit if Gabe asked him to. Even his employers. All his life. Had he really been such a complete fool? He wanted to destroy the whole damn world for being against him, using him for whatever purpose because he was too kind to say no. In the years following the end of the world he had become a cynic, someone who was so careful about not being caught in any trap. Brutal to the rest of humanity to maintain his safety… the wall had come down, and people had taken advantage of him again. Why did Maree not tell him about this doctor that seemed to have some sort of attachment to her? Why had Jacob even come? The bastard hated the Czech, barely said two words to him in the last year. Was his brain all that mattered to anyone? And now, it was all his fault, the vastness of it crushing. All this was on his hands. Without him, would they have had the puzzle pieces to put this together? Perhaps. It sounded so arrogant in his head. So arrogant, but he knew his work had been specific in this field. He recognized markers, bits and pieces. It was all of his colleagues. But him, HE had been the one to fix their calculations, their mistakes, finish their work. Blood was on his hands. He’d been studying the viruses for years in his cabin after the end of the world. He’d studied and MADE them before the end of the world. How in the hell had he let this happen?? Now, he’d exposed himself. Ran off into the fray without anyone to back him up. Endangered himself and his sister by being together, but he’d also helped save them. To what end? They knew he was alive now. Anyone with a brain or a stake in the game knew he was alive now. Could follow his chemical trail. Jacob had either followed him or had been sent. Gabe too busy to come himself? He would have been pissed if he had, wouldn’t he? He didn’t wait until the plane had been chocked on the runway of L.A. or the door was even set down. He didn’t answer Jacob and he didn’t want to be followed. He knew exactly what he needed to do. Exactly. Irrational, angry, broken. He was fucking broken. What was the point of being able to save the world if you couldn’t save the god damned world? You contributed to its downfall? The hours north ached from the ordeal of the last three days, muscles protested the anti-viral like a tetanus shot. It was normal, but didn’t make for a comfortable ride. Anger kept boiling, bubbling, burning over. Betrayed, and hurt and lost. Gabe had nothing on him. Nothing at all. Executioner. The Czech was a damn executioner too. Jesus Christ he’d contributed to the death of the entire world… Thoughts wandering, he almost spun out on a curve. The bike was going too fast for his reflexes, righting out on a straightway and pushing it even faster. What was the point? What was the fucking point?! He’d destroyed the world. Distracted brain missed the minute break in the wall of massive trees lining the side of the highway that signaled the path to his clearing. Bike screeched to a halt, spun around and pushed into the woods with no regard. None. If there was a fallen log, he was going over it, debris, he’d hit that too. It seemed to take forever to pass the thick of trees, finally sprouting out into the clearing where his shuttered cabin and buildings were nestled. Bike skid to a halt and he let it flop over, never stopping until he was on the porch and pawing for a key to the padlock. He’d cleaned most of it out, locked up everything he could. He rarely came out here anymore, only if he needed silence to work on something that itched at his brain or supplies that were still growing or stashed out there. Being at Shadow, he could get virtually anything he needed now through runners and various sources so he never had to risk showing his face again. Again, that trust. The trust that was betraying him. Door pushed open, darkness of the cabin even in daylight was pressing, all the windows with their protective boards closed and locked. He’d made himself a fortress away from the very things he’d been responsible for creating. Glass twinkled slightly from his work tables, the chair which he sat and stared at his worn whiteboard drawing a long round of attention… the little frayed wisps that he used to twist and flicked while he pondered a question, or tried to avoid dying by pissed off vampire. It should have brought a smile, it didn’t. He made short work of the place. Everything in it he either had duplicates of at Shadow or didn’t want anymore. The pile of books next to his bed so worn he’d found new copies of them as well. Almost satisfied he’d had it all, pausing, kicking over a pile with his toe to pick up a copy of Don Quixote he’d forgotten existed. Snort soft, he leafed through it, father’s handwriting on the inside cover. Stuffing it into his backpack and slinging it back on his shoulders, he set to work. It was caustic, and entirely something only his brain could concoct. It would burn the place completely to the ground, nothing would be left but a scorched field. Once finished, two small vials were filled with a clear liquid from a dark bottle, stuffed into his back pocket. Old water jugs were filled, splashed everywhere around in the cabin. Trotting down the steps, he opened his greenhouse, pulled a shovel from the corner and did the same coating of liquid, throwing the jugs inside. He could have secrets too. Heading toward the side of the clearing and a familiar pile of stones, he began to dig. Once the place lit, the blast and subsequent smoke pillar wouldn’t be able to escape attention for long so he had to retrieve everything first. The small metal box was pulled out of the earth. Notes. Notes that didn’t have context until now. He’d glanced through the bag that his sister had come out with before handing them over to Eris. His were always one side of a coin. The glance at the doc’s… seemed at first look at the other. Stuffing the musty smelling things into his backpack, he dumped the box back in the hole and covered it up. Backpack was wiggled off and hooked on a handlebar of his bike at a safe distance. First blast came with a delayed pop, the small vial tossed into the doorway. Fumes had become hair-triggered, and the mere clink of the glass on the floor started the spark. The building seemed to implode in onto itself with the suck of oxygen it suddenly grabbed to complete the process, the windows blowing outward in billowing splinters. He’d lit the very air on fire… knowing someday he would have to completely scour the earth of his damnable tinkering. Who knew what else he’d created. It was all going up in smoke. Shovel was placed back in the greenhouse, and he started trotting backwards before tossing the other vial into it. There was silence, only the small rain of wood from his cabin that had been launched into the sky, now ash. Brow crinkled slightly, still trotting backwards toward his bike, maybe he hadn’t… his gas pump. Fuck. FUCK! Air was sucked from his lungs, the world began to loop- an ethereal, disorienting float. Ears rang, flesh throbbed, the back of his head seared in pain. The explosion had paused, mixed, and doubled in intensity; shaking the ground, knocking him off his feet and sliding him backward through the tall grass almost thirty yards. His bike, was only twenty away. A bike headlight versus a skull? All bets were on the bike- bike, backpack and body coming to a halt near the treeline in the sudden silence of crackling fire. No signs of life from any of it.
  13. Bo Salvatierra

    Emergency Quarantine!

    Not pleased was an understatement. Skipping off half way around the world to answer a cryptic message from his sister without a second word to anyone seemed insane, but there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. Arriving to find a babysitter had been sent again to save the Czech from whatever dangers lay ahead only added to the frustration that was building to a boil within. He had a hand in this, his work, his blind work. Enjoy himself more, take away the stress… work with a suit and tie instead of in the thick of things in deadly and dangerous countries. It had just made him a patsy, a mouse, a workhorse for those with obviously sinister intentions beyond what he could fathom. …and this fucking doctor. The ginger had a temper, he’d always had a temper where Maree was the gentle and happy soul of the two. Yin and Yan. But this guy, something about him was making him the focus of the Czech’s ire… and it could be vicious when the safety of people he loved were threatened. But, they seemed to work like a well-oiled machine, after the doctor had started to get with the program. Suddenly he was grateful for Jacob’s intervention, and the availability of Eris’ sidekick that could only stay with them for so long. He would have to find another way out. It was doubtful that Ahanu had stuck around. The man was like Gabe, resourceful with the options he was given. He wasn’t worried for Eris’ employee. He was however, worried as the “CDC” decided to take off on his own mission… they had to stick together, the two on point couldn’t protect them all if variants kept changing the game. If they left, they were on their own… "⚖ Good luck." NO! God damn it! There was no way the two fore and aft could cover the man as he took off toward the door with the canisters, he was on his own now. DAMN IT! The moment Maree spoke however, the world changed. It always did. What he was not expecting was the seeming prick of a doctor suddenly mirrored his own relieved expression. Trying to ignore what was buzzing through his thoughts as the flip through the keys halted their escape by only a matter of seconds. He’d also become very acutely aware that the man was showing signs of infection. The doc didn’t trust the scientist. [bodhan]The anti-viral works, just take the fucking thing,[/bodhan] he snapped to the doc as they all piled into the elevator and he keyed for it to go down. Missing it. Missing IT! Hand slammed the doors after him as they closed beyond what he could grab the doc through. He'd decided he hated the ass, but it didn't mean he deserved to die. Maree’s sudden inhale gelled the realization just how infinitely dark the situation had become. Her fingers snapped closed on the glass vials, clink gentle. The doc had passed off the vials, at least there were less than there were before. The man wasn’t a complete idiot, but he hadn’t looked good, and he, like the “CDC” had chosen his own fate. [maree]No. No… no..[/maree] She was coming around. Eyes flickered to Maree as the elevator moved, it was so damn slow. Freight elevator. Something was happening. She was so fucking warm. Was she infected too? Hands grabbed one of the vials from her lucid fingers, tossing it to Jacob, Toby… one for him but the man didn’t need it. The doc or CDC wouldn’t have known anyway. Jacob wasted no time, the ass was fearless. He flicked one for Maree, finding the vein quickly. Remnants were put into his bag. Nothing could be left behind. Could she even get sick? He had no idea. Then her weight on his shoulder was light. She was standing on her own, forehead tilted slightly downward as she stared at the door, her palm suddenly on the elevator door indicated she knew what the doc had done. They opened, the empty, dim hallway waiting for their escape. Jacob first, Toby, then himself, turning to help her out. Keys snapped into her hand from his a foot away. No. How the fuck had she done that?! [maree]I know what to do now. Wait for me in the boiler room.[/maree] [bodhan]NO!! MAREE!![/bodhan] The door groaned, snapping shut, his fist slamming on the impregnable doors, leaving the three of them to their dim hideaway. She had done that. SHE had DONE THAT.
  14. Bo Salvatierra

    Emergency Quarantine!

    The doctor was double checking everything he did. Goddamn it they didn’t have time for this! Even CDC was busting his ass while the doc had to question the Czech. The weight of the situation was not lost on him, tighter and tighter in his chest as the situation flayed outward into critical mode. He almost wished Gabe was here, at the same second thankful he was not. He didn’t want him to see this, THIS. This was the end result of his infernal tinkering, the genius that wanted to save the world and asked no questions along the way. He was so fucking smart now wasn’t he? So eager to crack the next code, solve the next problem… "No shit Sherlock…" ..came the reply to his outward realization. Eyes were vicious at the man, so much anger starting to bubble- at himself. Purely at himself. He’d been so concerned that he could, he didn’t stop to think about whether or not he should. He’d heard that somewhere before when he was a kid. Another something itching at him registered at the same moment while a flurry of hands were working to save the lives they could . No. No. This elf bastard was NOT someone he approved of having a soft spot for his sister. Whether or not Maree knew it, he knew that glance. Fuck! Fingers gripped her tighter in a possessive tantrum. He was coming apart at the seams. He would remain logical, level headed in an incredible crisis, but when this was over his world would crash. It would be over. They would get out of this. "Quinn, I got this. Gather your notes and get the hell outta here." Flurry was quick, the doctor seemingly either buckling to the peer pressure or knowing it all was lost. Then, the pause. The Czech’s eyes slammed shut, teeth tightening before releasing and watching the product of his naivety. This was his fault. Patient X’s blood, was on his hands. His sister’s near-death.. whatever this was, was on his hands. "You’re not looking so well. Trust me, I can disperse the aerosol faster than anything." Attention snapped back on the present. Was the elf immune? Was Maree immune? Was.. ”CDC” immune? He would go on the assumption of no until he saw otherwise. By the Nord’s words, he was leaning possibly toward otherwise. Something about him, Maree… he knew Jacob and Toby were different… he was pretty sure he was the only human in the whole fray. The big man had plans for this… they all had a part. The glance again at Maree from the doctor snapped his brow down. Ginger rage was not a myth, neither was the bond that twins had… it would have to wait, getting ready to move as they all took their respective roles. "…careful…. we can't make any more." “No shit Sherlock” was on the tip of his own teeth… blazing green on the man the second he lifted Maree’s hand. He knew more about her than her own brother… Bodhan… get your head in the game. "I’ll take care of this. You just worry about getting out of here." He nodded at CDC, sister held tightly to him as he supported her weight. The Czech believed him. After this was over he needed to sit down with the guy. Foot slammed into the door to open them and lead the way out. "….lets get moving." [bodhan]No shit Sherlock,[/bodhan] percussive voice snapped, unable to stop it this time, CZ already up. [bodhan]Jacob! We’re moving! Retrace![/bodhan] His finger squeezed the trigger at the first shadow of a helmet around the corner, practiced aim snapping the target's head back before they fell. It was the same they’d seen coming in. The bouncer immediately snapped off several shots and moved to lead the way, Toby bringing the rear and jam the door after they were all safely inside the sterile looking, yet macabre hall. [Jacob]We got company at the entrance point…[/Jacob] the bouncer was unfazed. [Maree]…service door… right, freight elevator just inside…[/maree] voice was quiet, arm tightening slightly on her brother’s neck. The scientist's eyes immediately softened. [maree]…morgue downstairs… ramp goes out to the parking garage for mortuary pick-up… bisects the hall to the boilers and the air systems. [/maree] fingers were fumbling on her belt. She’d been listening. Bodhan snapped the keys from his joey pocket, there were so fucking many. C’mon genius. All the keys had stamped numbers that corresponded to the stamped numbers on the keyhole to unlock the elevator. Eyes squinted at the core on the elevator panel. Fuck his eyes. FUCK. It took a moment, snapping it in and turning it, doors opened. Thank god it was already on their floor.
  15. Hiatus. Indefinite.

  16. Hiatus. Indefinite.

  17. Bo Salvatierra

    Emergency Quarantine!

    The larger man blinked at him, an odd recognition to his eyes. Great. He didn’t know this man from Adam, he certainly seemed to know the Czech. It could be a good thing, it may also be a disastrous thing. Fingers were deadly honed on his CZ, no problem pointing and firing into the hulking man’s forehead if the twitching fingers became anything more than that. A decade ago, he may have talked his way out of it. The scientist hadn’t stayed alive talking his way out of things, shoot first- ask after. It became quickly apparent they were all working toward the same end. Hopefully, the version where they all walked out not dead. The other, elf? was pissed and skeptical of his sudden verbal barrage of information. It rolled off the man, tangled with so many other things he hadn’t time to figure it out. Twins made one empathetic, special powers or not, the nuances of body language were never missed. "Dr Asher….. ….CDC…" Ah yes, a clusterfuck. He could do clusterfucks. Wares laid out, there was nothing more he could do while they prepared the aerosols. The other two components were clearly in Dr. Asher and CDC's control, and he’d worked in teams enough that people worked in thought processes and sequences. If you screwed up somebody’s sequence, there was hell to pay- from them AND potential chemical booboos. The man from the CDC was familiar to him somehow... CZ jumped to a point the second Jacob came through the door, lowering with an annoyed huff. "We got company coming. Half dozen through one blown door. No clue how many came through the others. Rifles. Military. Definitely not friendlies. Were talking about a Patient Zero. Toby and I will hold them off as long as we can, but we need another plan. We got minutes, I came through dead man’s tunnel, we can go out that way. We can't stay here, we need another plan now." He had no words. Gabe? Why hadn’t Gabe come? He always came. First thoughts admittedly were what had happened, then pissed since it was Jake. It was no secret the two kept a quiet distance. It was almost as if Jacob was an incredibly loyal puppy… an incredibly dangerous, chew your face off and dance on your bones kind of puppy… but a loyal one at that. Bo had simply proverbially stepped in to take the puppy for a walk. It hadn’t been a good meet. BUT, Maree was safer with him here…and he was thankful the suave brute had come. What really threw him off, was Dr. Asher. Eyes slid to the side with silent venom of their own. Protectiveness. Possession. Maree was his sister, and he’d just gotten her back. Where she’d embraced and adopted Gabe, the scientist was woefully behind- almost aggressive at the man's seeming soft spot for her. Maree had moved on with her life, looking for him, hoping he was okay… but she had continued to live. The Czech, had not, almost feverish in his search for her. She was always the free spirit. Who was this Dr. Asher? Eyes still narrow, he knelt next to her again, making sure she was okay. "…if we are going to get to the main air shafts, the keys are on her belt." His face flushed again with prickling, there was affection there and he was livid. Jealous almost. Fingers patted her cheek, lifting her hand to study the odd fractal pattern on her skin. She didn’t talk much about what she could do. He hadn’t asked in Glamis, he didn’t want to ruin their reunion. He wished he had. Why had they left her out there with those things? She was somewhat conscious, more so than several moments ago. She was exhausted. Of course she was exhausted, she was a mage. The Czech knew enough to know she was tapped out. Tapped out protecting this room, these people, and the hospital. He lifted her keys from the clip in her belt and tucked them into his joey pocket on his hoodie. [bodhan] Maree budete muset probudit. Musíme jít , musíte se dostat na nohy.[/bodhan] he patted her cheek again and glared at the patient. [bodhan]We’re a fucking experiment.[/bodhan] Consonants were percussive. [bodhan]They’re coming to get him. This isn’t an attack, it’s a goddamn lab-rat trial run![/bodhan] he pushed to his feet, starting to gather anything they had touched. If they took the man, they just had him. If they took what they were concocting, including the slides, Asher’s notes... he assumed were the scribbles on papers- he had a ton of his own, they would have... SHIT! [bodhan]They can’t get any of this.[/bodhan] he was moving fast, gathering his things, slides the doc had prepared. Were things completely mixed? Canisters ready? [bodhan]We have to go, now. Leave him.[/bodhan] It was crass, and it was heartless, but it was necessary. [bodhan]They know what they have. They can’t know what we have,[/bodhan] the implications were obvious. If they knew, they could mutate it again. [bodhan]They can’t know who we are. Jacob and Toby will cover us.[/bodhan] The implications for that were also obvious, if they knew who they were... they would be familiar with their work. Also an advantage he didn’t want to give them. He hoisted Maree up, one arm over his shoulder. She was holding her own weight. Groggy. He looked expectantly toward the two. Canisters, mixes, notes... damn... they had too much to carry. Waiting... for their lead. Maree had to start moving on her own power.
  18. Bo Salvatierra

    Emergency Quarantine!

    Gun was on point, around every corner. The unknown Toby was obviously better trained, rifle constantly at his shoulder and allowed the Czech to move quickly. He’d heard what he thought was emergency before his phone cut, along with a pretty pissed off doctor. Basement. Had to be the ER. Emergency rooms in every hospital were clearly marked. Gunfire rang loud, not sparing any shots to take out moving zombies. There was simply no time to hand to hand anything, body suddenly skittering backward and sliding as he turned a corner. [bodhan]Maree![/bodhan] What the hell had she just done? She was altered, he knew… but this? Nothing was moving in the hallway anymore. He was stumbling back to his feet to close the distance as she fell, hopping over corpses to get to her. Within seconds, the shudder of explosions made him grab a wall, eyes assessing everything. Plastic sealed room, dead zombies on the floor, more skittering from hallways further down. Were they going to blow up the building? Shit, it wouldn’t be the first instance that frying everything was resorted to in order to keep something contained. He was terrified for his sister as he scooped her unconscious, unbitten form up from the floor and pulled her through the doors… oddly what fell over his thoughts was not the world, or his sister… but Gabe. He hadn’t said a word to the man as he’d left off on his valiant horse to save everyone. The feeling struck his chest like a firestorm, exhaling quickly. All the things he should of said and didn’t. Didn’t. Regret. He'd just gone and hurt him again without a second thought... Brow furled, there was no time, she was still breathing as he laid her carefully hidden behind the nurse’s station and barked at Toby. [bodhan]Stay with her! Kill anything that comes through those doors![/bodhan] He leapt over the counter and sprinted for the plastic, unabashedly tearing it apart and bursting in, already pulling a bag off his shoulders and snapping zippers open, surveying the room quickly. Patient zero, of course, and two others. He was unsure who he’d spoken to, CZ was holstered as two cases hit a stainless steel counter, the first flipped open. There were three more doses. He hadn’t time or supplies to make more. [bodhan]I synthesized this cure for what I devised was the advanced form of this virus. I hadn’t had time to test it yet, so I tested it on myself five hours ago. The toxicity period is three hours. I’m not dead. It works. If either of you need it, it's there.[/bodhan] He pushed that to the side for later, the other case snapping open as he assessed what they were doing and began opening cabinets to find what he needed. The case contained very tiny vials of a quivering purple liquid. Eyes immediately spotted a microscope, tearing his glasses out of the front pocket of his backpack… one of the rare moments he remembered where they were… focusing on whatever the doctor had been looking at. Hand smacked the counter. [bodhan]Souložit! They actually did it.[/bodhan] He started cracking the tops off the vials and lining them up for use as he spoke quickly. [bodhan]I developed this three years ago to boost the efficacy of anti-virals. Either it will work, or it will kill all of us. Just wanted you to know the risks.[/bodhan] He took a deep breath, finished, and was finally still, looking over their progress. Despite the frenzy of activity before, he was suddenly calm. [bodhan]Dr. Bodhan Marin, I don’t think we’ve ever met.[/bodhan] the quirkiness was obvious before he went strictly back to business. [bodhan]This will work.[/bodhan] Eyes blinked at them both, pushing his glasses on top of his head. [bodhan]I swear to you this will work. Mix ratio is one to two each of your mix. One five part dose aerosolized will cover a MINIMUM hundred thousand square feet. There are enough of mine for... [/bodhan] he looked across what they had. [bodhan]Twelve doses. It needs extreme heat and access to the ventilation system. A… a blowtorch, or.. bunson burner with a fan blowing into the vent system.[/bodhan] His brow quirked at the oxygen canisters. What a fucking good idea. [bodhan]...or oxygen canisters.[/bodhan] Who were these two? Gunfire outside flicked his eyes back to the door. His CZ was pulled again, leaving the men to it as he peered out the windows to make sure Toby was good, not aware that the keys to the kingdom hung from Maree’s belt to get to the air system. [bodhan]..and they're blowing holes in the building. I can't help with that.[/bodhan]
  19. Bo Salvatierra

    Emergency Quarantine!

    "…Maree?" Eyes blinked immediately at the sound of the phone picking up and his sister’s name, grabbing the side of the chopper door as it lurched slightly. Ahanu was avoiding something. [bodhan]Is she with you?[/bodhan] sprang from his lips before he had the chance to think, backtracking immediately. They had an unspoken promise to each other. Save the world, then save his sister. That had seemed to go out the window in the last decade, sucking it back in now that his heart was in his throat was more excruciating than ever. *npc* We’re not landing on the roof. It’s locked down. Can’t get in from up here. Mouse can you get me some help here before these fuckers shoot at my ass. Eyes snapped up at her, the chopper turning in a circle as it hovered. Something was wrong, he could feel it... the ginger did not have special powers, but the bond between twins was something that even the Nevus could not interfere with. His fingers smacked the glass, looking below them. The place was surrounded, steel doors Were they going to get shot at? Maree worked in the ER. Other than that, he knew nothing that was going on inside other than what she’d said in her broken message. Was he talking to someone that would know what to do? He was talking to someone that knew Maree. There was a chance. He could just be talking to the secretary of the children’s ward though too... [bodhan]My name is Dr. Bodhan Marin. Listen carefully. The virus is an expedited version of the original. Engineered. Pieces of a puzzle latched together. It slows in cold, goes into epidemic mode in heat, and is destroyed at high heat and fatal level fevers. Anything that agitates the adrenal glands mixed with anything you have that treats inhalation anthrax works best when both are mixed and aerosolized. It will not cure anyone infected, but it will kill it in the air. I haven’t found a way to make soft tissues immune yet. Infected will still have a contagious bite. They are fast, lethal, and this will agitate them more. Pump it into the air system in the highest doses you can.[/bodhan] He finally stopped to take a breath. His eyes were searching the building. Entry point. Entry point. Old boiler room. Would Maree think of that? He pointed, Ahanu nodded. *npc* Sorry Toby, you’re gonna get some sun. The vampire scowled as the woman lowered the chopper as close as she could to the ground in the greenspace out from the hospital. If they didn’t know the old service building was an access point to the entire mess, they would very shortly. *npc* They’re gonna chase you like wounded deer. *npc* Possibly, but we're going in not out... it's our own deathwish. He continued into the phone, unsure if anything was even being heard. [bodhan]Infected but not yet symptomatic will still degenerate. Those not infected, may die from the cocktail if they have other drugs in their system that will react. Where are you? The entire building is closed off, we’re going to try the boiler station across the street. Can we get through there? I will stay on this line as long as I can, if Maree is with you tell her I’m coming.[/bodhan] Backpack was on his shoulders, hood up on his hoodie as he pulled his sidearm and pushed the door open. Toby was in full pissed off mode, hood up as well and moving toward the side door as soon as he was out of the protective range of Eris’ special tempered glass. A shout was quick from the direction of the barricade outside the building. Gig up, the two scampering at full speed through a line of trees, Toby smashing into the door and slamming it behind them and jamming the door. Stairs and more stairs… and a tunnel, the phone crackling and losing signal. Stomach in knots, muscles sore... he never had a chance to test the vaccine he'd shot up with on the plane. He was his own guinea pig... and here's to hoping it worked.
  20. Bo Salvatierra

    Emergency Quarantine!

    He could pace, but it would do no good. The normal incessantly busy brain was at a standstill. A rock in the world of panic that had sent him careening toward the airport. He HAD thought long and hard how Gabe would have felt with him galavanting off like a white knight. He had no choice. Gabe was immune, the rest of the world was not. Whereas Gabe would survive, the brilliant ginger and his precious sister would die. He knew they would. If her cryptic call held any truth, he knew this virus. He knew it well. He'd made it. Accidentally, of course. A centerpiece to the middle of the puzzle and he'd spent the last nine years making up for it. Experiments in a lone cabin. He had the key, and had abandoned the work for sake of study in that incessant crack in the sky. And love. A relationship he would kill to protect. He didn't regret it, he just regretted his mind had wandered onto other projects knowing that thing by his own hand was out there. He'd been used by his employers, and had let himself be used. And then had done practically nothing. Feeling the plane dip, still the patience was eternal. Nothing he could do right now would speed things up, or make them smoother. Eris was a fantastic pilot, had pushed the limits of her plane without the restrictions of an FAA. She would refuel and go back for Gabe. He would need him. Wheels on the ground, cell flipped open immediately, grabbing his things and taking the steps two at a time. A dark windowed chopper was waiting, woman at the helm, another man just inside and out of the light. [eris]Flip it out, now! [/eris] the tiny vampire barked in no uncertain terms. Mouse was on it immediately, refueling and turning the plane. He hopped into the helo, door slamming behind. *npc* Eris said if they take a shot at us, you clear them all. You stay with him Toby, kill anything that gets close. We're landing on the roof pad. Ahanu flipped a few switches and they were off the ground. Minutes, he'd see his sister in minutes. The frantic calls routing and rerouting. His sister worked in the ER. Calls were not being answered. He knew how numbers worked. Brain taking in the messages after messages of unanswered stations and narrowing the digits second by second until methodically each ER bay started to ring. A particular redhead hearing the rings, occupied... the last one finally ringing through to a phone in a plastic sealed room....
  21. Bo Salvatierra

    Back to the Beginning

    Continued From Here It tickled his forehead, a stray lock of curls that had gotten a bit long in the front, wisping back and forth with the warmer air that was seething out slowly into the night like a relaxed sigh. There were no lights as he wandered along the edge of the small creek, picking at a piece of weed that had been plucked as he meandered probably past where Gabe was comfortable with him being. No light anywhere, save for the cabin, and a moon that barely lit the sky splattered with millions of stars and the damn crack that didn’t hold his attention for once. It felt a bit like his cabin in the woods… except minus the ever present threat of zombies and killer mosquitoes. North of L.A. in the summer it was sometimes hard to distinguish between the two. That damn cabin. Weed was flicked, thumb rubbing absently over the faint scar that still graced his palm from tumbling out his bedroom window. He oddly missed it, rarely visited anymore. He missed his pile of worn books, now moved to Shadow’s upper floors, his overstuffed battered chair where he sat and stared at a tangle of tubes and glass. The white board he’d scavenged and bolted to a rustic wall. So many things had been scribbled across it, erased, rebuilt, erased. In his head was the entire world, bits and pieces pulled forth when necessary to fit together the infinite puzzle… Nothing mattered at this moment though. His mind was quiet for once in a very long time, light green searching the sky that she’d disappeared into, knowing he would see nothing. She was gone again, back to New York and her life. Leaving him, broken once more. A solitary pair. It was meant to happen eventually, just not like this. She’d seemed so well adjusted. Then again, she always was the more social one. He was the nerd, the bookworm. It was the bookworm in him that seemed to see past her current happiness. Something was dark there, something beyond her smiles… the marks on the back of her neck, her reluctance to indulge his curiosity with her power. There were other ways to find out. He came to a stop at a point he could no longer see the lights from the cabin, pretty sure he shouldn’t go any further, and sat… ruffled hair visible just above the swaying grass and fingers continuing to torture the same weed plucked earlier. Chip of chill forced him to pull his favorite battered hoodie hood up, the one so worn at the cuffs they were frayed, still faintly stained with Gabe’s blood. Curt curl lifted one corner of the full lips. She’d liked him. That was a first. Usually his choices in significant others ended up with them chasing her, then treating him like shit because at that point they were questioning their masculinity. Is that why he was out here alone? Because Gabe seemed ‘different’ when he looked at her? It was weird, and he was in that lonely state of questioning everything… flopping back to rest his hands on his stomach and stare at the sky.
  22. Bo Salvatierra

    Emergency Quarantine!

    He sat looking at the phone in his hand, unable to breathe. The burner phone only intended for two minutes max. It had been a garbled mess of his sister’s voice. He knew where she worked, what she did for a living… somewhere he never thought she would settle into but it seemed to fit her. But this, the words he had made out, the tone of her voice strong –always brave- but tinged with something that resonated in his bones. The thought of every warning never crossed his mind. Somewhere in his thought process he’d started moving through the apartment. At one moment sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor of papers, barefoot and sipping orange juice as he scanned his notes… the next in full scamper mode. Living on the run had not been scoured from his system yet. Running toward something though, that was a feeling he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. Gabe was somewhere in the building doing what Gabe always needed to do. Hoodie, jeans, something that resembled military jump boots, a small bag stuffed with random things and finally the keys to the Bugatti. A gun…. a gun.. a gun… He didn’t need papers, books…pencils. Everything he needed was in his head along the ability to drive the car like a bat out of hell to make it to the airport before Eris took off. If not, he was screwed. Gabe was also going to kill him. This was the second time he’d taken off for New York without warning. Pulling his real cell as he tore backwards from the subgarage, he lost the signal virtually immediately as he false shifted into first and the phone slid into his lap, almost stalling out the car. Fucking LA. No reliable cell. No reliable radio. It was a shithole. It had always been a shithole, which was why he liked to live so far north of it. Gunning the engine into gear, thumb pressed the button again as he clutched it between his shoulder and his chin to shift the engine into second. It beeped. Okay. [bodhan]…heading to the airport. Jo called. Something’s happening, she needs me. I’m catching Eris before she jumps. I’ll send her back for you.[/bodhan] Phone beeped and he pushed it off his shoulder with his chin to bounce on the leather seat next to him, shifting and pressing the pedal again to the floor. There was no apology. He was doing what he had to do…. heading into danger, her garbled words unsure if she had even reached him. Quarantined. Lockdown. Shut off. They were words he never wanted to hear, words he knew he would most likely hear. All his notes, all his ideas, all his calculations. He knew this would happen, just not with his sister locked inside of something he didn’t even know allowed those to remain alive. He knew what they did to places like that. They were killed. He could fix this. He could fix this. Would they know he was alive then? Yes. Would it matter if half the world was dead? No.
  23. Signing off for a bit. Can't seem to write anything right for anyone. Sorry.

    1. Zeph

      Zeph

      :( all your posts to me were/are amazing as always. snugs
  24. Signing off for a bit. Can't seem to write anything right for anyone. Sorry.

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    ABOUT US

    MODERN FANTASY COLLABORATIVE WRITING RP CATERING TO OLDER PLAYERS (25+) WITH A SLOWER, MORE RELAXED PACE. IN 2010, THE WORLD DRASTICALLY & PERMANENTLY CHANGED BY WHAT BECAME KNOWN AS THE MULTIVERSE RESONANCE EVENT. IN A SINGLE BREATH, OUR WORLD CROSSED WITH AN UNKNOWN NUMBER OF ALTERNATE UNIVERSES, BLEEDING INTO EACH OTHER. EARTH WAS SUDDENLY A REALM OF MAGIC AND MONSTERS. THE STORY IS CENTERED IN NEW YORK CITY BUT EXTENDS ACROSS THE WORLD. IT BLENDS A VARIETY OF GENRES; A MOSAIC OF OVERLAPPING REALMS INCLUDING ELVES, LYCANTHROPES, ALTERED HUMANS AND,OF COURSE, MAGIC.  

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