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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.

Gabriele Salvatierra

Sheut Nation
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About Gabriele Salvatierra

  • Rank
    Nicely Seasoned


    David Gandy
  • RACE
    Vampire (Tepet)
  • JOB
    Shadow Owner / Sheut Executioner
  • 'SHIP:
    Engaged to Bodhan Marin
    Sheut Nation
    6'3” tall and of muscular build, Gabriele cannot hide from his Spanish heritage even cursed with his vampire pallor. While he had never known them, his mother had been a Spanish beauty and his father a Mexican farmer. Dark hair is lightly painted by his age and hard life, peppered at his temples, the length adjusting with his moods from shaved short to long curls, facial hair just as variant. Hard body is a map of scars that reflect the life he has led. Five gunshot wounds have marred the flesh of his left shoulder twice, right calf, right bicep, and left hip. Vicious stripes mark his back and chest where knives tried to steal the life he kept by brute force.

    His style of dress tends to err on the side of casual, varying as the situation dictates from jean or cargo pants and tee shirts to slacks with an open-collar dress shirt and jacket.
    Gabriele's raw background has made him a creature of duality. He can be a cold blooded killer, little thought to the life he rips from another, and yet he can also be the tender strength a companion needs. Gabriele can swing from reasonableness to extreme violence but never without reason. Lacking formal education, Gabriele is highly intelligent, a curious mind sharpened further by the effects of the virus. Reading now a guilty pleasure that he tends to keep hidden. In private, the gun runner also gravitates to softer things, music and quiet dinners have a way of taming the savage beast. And something he hides from all, he is drawn to cute things. A stray kitten will never go without food by his home.
    Gabriele is the owner of the Shadow in LA. One of the elite nightclubs in LA, his loft above is a veritable fortress. Here is where he leaves his Bugatti Veyron. Gabriele also owns a cottage in Scotland. He was uncomfortable from the very start staying in the Sheut castle when there on business and so instead got himself a small place about twenty minutes away where he leaves a Ducati motorcycle for getting around.

    He also has accumulated a small arsenal of melee weapons and firearms and is always in possession of at least one of each. The type, number and size are dictated by the known and unknown threats he perceives he will come across. He wears a ring at all times on his pinkie, a gift from his lover.


    Basic Vampiric Enhancements: Speed, strength, senses resistance to physical damage and regeneration.

    Chameleon: Gabriele’s has a kinetic energy that has the ability to refract light around his form, making him invisible against any surface. The main drawback to this ability is it shivers and betrays him the moment he moves. Left to concentrate, he can maintain this for nearly twenty minutes without giving away his position. If he has to deflect any attack on his position and remain in his chameleon form, he only has five to ten minutes.

    Charm: Gabriele's vampiric allure is enhanced, enticing victims to gloss over their own moral codes and embrace the carnal side of their nature. It does not allow Gabriele the ability to plant actual suggestions, or convince someone to do something blatantly against their will such as kill or harm themselves. It is useful, however, in convincing targets that a questionable action is not such a bad idea, or to leave a victim with an unexplained sense of dread. It is equally effective on male and female victims.

    Survival Initiative: Gabriele possesses a sort of sixth sense that warns him of immediate impending danger. The knowledge is too immediate and brief to be detailed, only indicating a threat and a direction. Enough time to perhaps wrap over someone he wishes to protect.
    Weapons: there isn’t a gun that the runner cant cycle, not a rifle he cannot disassemble and reassemble with his eyes closed. In addition it is rarely a good idea to challenge Gabriele to a knife fight. The switchblade he carries was a “gift” from Miguel, his first “brother” in the underbelly of the Mexican cartel, the blade a transcript of his fights, nicked metal betraying just how often it has struck through bone. His ability and aggression only magnified with the virus now infecting his blood.

    Hand to hand combat: An assassin at six he has been fighting all his life. This has made for a highly skilled fighter that now boosted with his vampire speed and strength make him formidable opponent.

    Streetwise: Gabriele has an uncanny knack of making contact with an area's underworld, able to blend in as a local and get answers no others can.

    Harmonica: an ability he does not share with anyone but the shadows at night.
    Small feet hit the top of the dented metal trash can to jackelope over the small grill where a woman was flash burning meat to sell on the street. The man behind was beginning to finally lose ground as the small loaf of bread was clutched tight in his fist like a mashed piece of playdoh. He normally did odd jobs for people to get his food but people were sharing less and less as the violence had spread. It had been two days since he had anything to eat so he had been desperate… and had stolen the bread.

    The tiny form zig-zagged through moving traffic as he dashed for the seedier side of Villa Ahumada, the screams of insults growing fainter with each step. Grin finally managed to breach his lips as he dashed between bodies on the sidewalk and then plunged down a dirty alleyway to pop out the other side on a far less travelled road. His pace slowing as he headed down a filthy byway only to be plowed over by some gringo that looked like his face had been used as a dance floor. The impact sent him tumbling back, tight grip on his bread lost as it bounced in the wretched waters of the broken asphalt.

    ===You gonna let him get away with that, Chico?===

    Rich chocolate lifted to stare at the teen that had spoke. A gang Big Boy. The vicious looking pack with him seemed to be the “boots” that had trampled the victim who was now scrambling back against the brick wall, pleas for mercy and to let him go tumbling from the bloody lips as the young eyes simply stared.

    ===.. dog made you drop your lunch Chico…. whatcha gonna do ‘bout it?===

    He didn’t know the teen, nor the victim, but he did know his bread was now spoiled in the oily waters.

    ===…be a man… take care of it…===

    The glisten of metal was held out to him, dark chocolate orbs starring at the shape in silence where he stood.

    ===What…. You a cobarde?===

    Lips pursed tightly together in abject defiance as the heavy brows dropped to scowl at the teen, he was no coward!
    Hand that had been stripped of its hard fought for prize slapped out to grab the piece from the teen which elicited an eruption of laughter and catcalls from the pack of hyenas.

    ===(pack)… he dun have the cojones Miguel…===

    Gun leveled and despite the spewing laughter from the gang, it didn’t so much as tremble in the tiny grasp.

    ===Please no… no… please…===

    The explosion was deafening, crimson speckling his features…he was no coward.

    ===Holy fuck he did it??!===

    The teen that had handed him his first gun wasn’t shocked… he merely grinned like a cheshire cat as the weapon was held back up to him by six year old hands.

    ===Nah… its yours now… you earned it…hombrecito.===


    That had been his first family.

    His second kill was only two months later and by age 10 he was deep within the drug and gun cartels of Mexico. The boy became a teen and soon had established a name for himself as the go to guy for ensuring the job got done. Bigger and bigger bosses took to hiring him until his list of allies was as long as his list of enemies and he had upgraded from cartel hitman to arms dealing.

    Somewhere along the way he had discovered an affection that was far from the image of any cartel. A night of particularly potent inebriation had led to his first encounter with another male teen. It had been so natural, so intoxicating, his arousal a thousand times more potent than it had ever been with any female. But the mornings light had woken a sore and less than happy partner who started screaming that he was going to expose the gun runner for the weak perversion he was. A bullet had kept his secret. He could never let it happen again. He hardened his image and buried his “deviant” feelings, pile-driving a few women along the way to be sure no one ever questioned his focus.

    By the time of the Nevus event he was an “old man”. In his late thirties he had long past the life expectancy of others in his area of expertise. He was in Spain when it happened, flown there by his latest "client" to be sure a shipment of guns made it to an old family in North Spain.

    He didn’t make it back to Mexico.

    Gabriele was one of the unlucky few that found themselves drastically altered. Touched not only by the Nevus event but by the virus it had released. He killed. Unable to quench the hunger, he killed again and again. It took some time to understand what had happened to him.

    When he had finally lost hope and sought to isolate himself in one of the desolate towns of Spain, he was found by Ausar. Where he saw no salvation, Ausar gave him new purpose, perhaps it was the man's charm, perhaps Gabriele who denied himself everything, did not deny himself the attraction for the Egyptian. Whatever the source of the loyalty, it gave the loner purpose. Gabriele was one of the first to devote himself to the Sheut Nation.

    In 2013, Ausar asked the Spaniard to leave, to go to the North American continent and watch over a growing population in the West that were tasked with trying to infiltrate the growing factions in the region. Originally offered the Minister position, Gabriele declined, he didn’t have the temperament and he knew it, perhaps the offer had been a test by Ausar as he was instead made the Sheut Executioner, a role he has fallen easily into.

    Still lacking a Viceroy in the area, Ausar has asked him recently to step out of his comfort zone and be the acting Viceroy…. He has agreed, for now.



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  1. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    “I want to go home.” The faint grin that had been playing on his lips vanished. Concern shadowed the features as the back of unusually uncalloused fingers lightly slid up the younger jawline. “I want to go home…. and stop hurting people." Head shook as his hand moved to curl fingers over the Czechs hand. I told you… you didn’t do it. “Sorry… just zoned out for a minute.” The smile still ghosted of concern as the thumb rubbed over the back of the younger man's hand near the IV entry point. He could "borrow" the small ambulance to get them back to Shadow. Jacob's car was off getting a massive cleansing or his bodyguard would freak at the volume of flesh and blood that saturated his seats. He kind of understood where the Czech was coming from. He didn’t really want to spend the whole night in the hospital either. A long sloughing in their own shower… a stiff drink from their home bar…. their own place…. their own bed. That was where he wanted to be. Question was….. was that the "home" that Bodhan was referring to. The Spaniard wasn’t entirely sure. “Better grow back…Look weird in a tux without…” Hey…. I don’t have such a badly shaped head…. Hand lifted to rub lightly over the smooth skull with a hint of self conscious concern even as the smirk played at his lips. I mean some think bald guys are sexy. Lifting the Czech's hand gently to his lips he kissed the back of scraped knuckles as he gingerly stood. Let me check on transportation. Then…… then you tell me where you want to go. He didn’t want to presume. There were lots of places "home" could mean to Bodhan and he was going to accept whatever he decided. Moving down the hallway the bare feet slapped firmly, it was about the only part of him not burned. He found her back garage and as he expected the small unmarked ambulance was in the garage, a little searching found the keys in the guard office. She would understand… or at least… he could pay her nicely for the "rental" if she insisted. Keys in hand he padded back to Bodhan. He wouldn’t move him except he knew that healing was always best in a place of comfort and no offense to Chelsea, the clinic was cold. Coming into the dark room he jingled the keys. Well… I found a ride… you sure you up to be moved?
  2. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    He caught the furl of the brow and instantly it was mirrored. He didn’t want the Czech worrying about him. "I did this.." Head shook as the hands that went to rub tired eyes were caught by oddly soft hands, the new skin still lacking the normal calluses. Nah…..I had an argument with the sun…. you will be happy to know I won….. he is off sulking at the moment. Smile was gentle, bathed in the glow of blue indicator light the missing eyebrows and lashes were also visible giving the Spaniard an oddly ethereal appearance. "I'm always fucking things up." Thumb rubbed over the fingers that closed over his hand. Not your fault Sun got randy….. Smile still lingered. "How long will it take you to... get better... lot less than my collarbone I would imagine.." A soft chuckle again murmured in the deep chest, a warmth that it had lacked lately in his sullen sulking. Ya… skin already stopped sloughing off, just a little raw still…. the hair…. Hand lifted to lightly rub over the balded head with ginger pressure to ensure he didn’t peel the still fragile skin. Well…. last time I fritzed in the sun I had no more than peach fuzz for a good month, took a few months for it to grow completely back. Lopsided grin came with a shrug as he lightly brushed the collarbone. Probably have all my hair back about when this is fully healed.
  3. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    Dark eyes watched the hand pat his head, almost breaching a smile across his lips. Looking for his glasses again. He really needed to get Chelsea to look at Bo's vision, see if there was options…. was lasik even a thing anymore? The Spaniard had no idea. Confession was naked and incredibly vulnerable. The reaction, however, wasn’t exactly what he expected. "Jesus criminey Gabe..." Blink was a bit confused. Brow lifting as the Czech fell back against his pillows and huffed at him before seething a groan of pain. "Jacob wishes we were done... " I don’t care what other people wish……..care what you wish…….. Soft words came instantly to the mumbled complaint. It was the truth. Ausar himself could forbid a relationship and the Spaniard would defy him if it was what the Czech wanted. "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." ……..putting up with you implies I do so out of obligation….. being with you has never been an obligation to me Bodhan…. Quiet words licked of his heritage accent. It happened the most when he was exhausted and emotional, the full name that was rarely used hanging warm in the air. "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." Nod was faint in the dark. He knew that, and knew it was too much to expect the Czech to commit at the same time as the reunion. That had not been what embedded the doubt for the Spaniard. It had been the growing distance, the silence, the lack of any contact. "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." He wanted...... to stay? It was an odd revelation for the Spaniard. Lips parted then closed, unsure what it was he would say. The Czech forever felt like he was trying to get away. The last six months had been an endless procession of feeling the younger man was trying to escape. "I was avoiding. Sorry for that." Swallow was tight as he tried to digest it all. The words wanted to beckon relief but the last six months left him cautious. Perhaps this was just the pain meds talking? "I'm a nerd... you know nerds have no social skills until after a few whisky shots." The tickle of a smile finally emerged over his lips, the barest hint of a chuckle rumbling in the barrel chest. The Czech was definitely more social after a few drinks. Of course that was a double edged sword, it made him flirty too and not always with the Spaniard. It had been a long time since the Czech had been that relaxed…. a very long time. "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.." I have never needed anything but you….. just you….. It was cliché but….it was the truth. The cough drew the Spaniard instantly forward. Red, bald head penetrated the soft blue light of the indicator on the IV stand as the large hand rested on the chest to lightly compress, quelling the urge to cough knowing the ribs and shoulder would be angry with that form of concussive violence. You need rest…. Soft words came as his thumb stole the opportunity to gently rub along the chest as his hand held the compression.
  4. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    I might…… I might need some clarity on that last point. “Huh? Accounting? You don’t want me on your books anymore? ….." No… not what I ….. meant…. Whisper tried to interrupt but he was still a bit stunned with what the previous words might imply. He needed….clarity. Assumptions were dangerous. He half heard the rest. Job skills. Bo was worried about job skills?? “Just no way to make any money and I’m not asking you to pay for your own damn ring… because that’s, rude.” Breath and heart stopped as he blinked trying to digest the statement again. It still was…. unclear. They had lived the last seven months in ambiguity and it was killing the Spaniard, almost as much as the void between them that had only grown over time. Other than the heroic rescue the Spaniard had performed to drag the Czech back here for medical, he couldn’t even remember the last time they had actually touched eachother. Scotland was supposed to change that, only the big "event" never happened and they never spoke of it again. The Czech consumed by his sister, his real family. Fingers lifted to rub on his wrinkled forehead, the left hand still cradling the book as brow flinched, his skin was still too raw to be rubbing absently on. Hand dropped to cup over the book once more. He could let it go. But if he did…… they lived again in the void of ambiguity. He needed to ask. He needed clarity. But as lips parted the Czech huffed in exasperation and spoke first. “What did I do Gabe… I fucked everything up didn’t I…Jacob told you what happened didn’t he?” Head shook at the idea that it was the Czech that had fucked everything up. He was fairly certain that was more on his own shoulders. Nod followed acknowledging Jacob told him, leaning back a bit in the chair, further into the shadows as he felt the itch over his skin that warned he was healing but likely still looked like a sunburned hairless cat. Ya….was quite the explosion. Words were quiet. “Never mind… it’s just a book, I’ll get you something better when I get the money.” "what's mine is yours…" the words were on the tip of his tongue. Problem was, it wasn’t really yet and he still wasn’t sure the Czech wanted it to be. Silence lingered, he could sense the slowing rate of the younger man's breathing, his heart slowing with the tug of sleep. He should let him sleep. But then they continued to let the void engulf them. Swallow was thick as he leaned forward, elbows resting lightly on the sweats he had managed to get over sloughing flesh. Tongue licked over his lips as he fought to find the first words. If he didn’t speak they went on wandering in the unfathomable dark. If he did speak….. he ran the risk of immediately knowing he was being discarded. No more darkness. Bodhan….I…. love the book but…….but I need clarity about….. Swallow felt like lead in his throat. Clearing his throat as he tried not to stutter over his words. The normally larger than life form seemed small hunched in the shadows. …um… clarity about your… um…. ring comment. Hand lifted to rub over the bald head, the breath drawn deep but faltering. Fuckin' grow some balls Gabriele! …..ever since Scotland….. when we didn’t……y'know……get married…. and then…. well…. you haven't wanted to talk about it again. Throat cleared again, realizing he was about to get to the point of no return. He could say "nevermind… get some sleep" now and likely the awkward moment would be over but the void………. At first…. figured you just…. needed time…. but….as months went by and it didn’t come up….and you didn’t want to talk about……anything…… I assumed…… He was that lost boy all over again…. voice growing ever softer. Finish…… finish it. …..I assumed we were done…….. He couldn’t hide the soft hitch in his tone. He had stopped breathing….completely.
  5. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    Distance. Forever there was the distance. A shadow. Soon that was all he would be to the Marin clan. A myth that protected them through the ages. Maybe it was better that way. He didn’t miss the pat of the head. Bo was forever seeking his glasses, the habit drawing a faint smile to the Spaniards still burned lips as he brought the bag for the Czech to rummage in. Medi*Corps? Frown was instant. The name was not unfamiliar to the Sheut. If there wasn’t strong evidence the corporation no longer existed he might have thought they had something to do with the experiments he was forever finding and destroying. The Nation and all its advisors dismissed the old venom. But what if they were wrong? If they were, he really didn’t like that the research was in Bodhan's head. He had always known the Czech was a target, but this made him a BIG target. The Shadow would need to keep close even if the younger man didn’t want him anymore. The flicker that crossed Bodhan's brow seemed to betray that he too wished the research was not in his head. I will keep it safe. Quiet words slid between them as he reached for the box, pulling it into his lap. 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... …..just be you. Words barely whispered. Hand was tentative as it reached for him, wanting to comfort….to alleviate the worry…to do something. But he held back. Scared to be brushed aside yet again. Instead a book was offered in the dark to him. A book? So… this is all I kept. I wanted you to have it… parents gave it to me after I learned Spanish. Blink was pronounced as he looked down to the dusty "gift" in his hands. 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. Nod was faint…. that made sense….Wait?.....What?!? Lips parted only to shut once more. The Spaniard was now VERY confused. Fingers rubbed on the book, self conscious of anything he might assume or say in the midst of the dim flicker of machinery light. Lower lip was gnawed before he finally took a breath to push courage forward. I might…… I might need some clarity on that last point. The soft whisper was naked, vulnerable.
  6. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    The soft tease had at least stopped the waterfall of self loathing the Czech had been spewing. It hurt the Spaniard to see him so torn up. He let him have the glass, his own tired arm falling limp at the side of the bed. Relief that the younger man was "ok" relaxed the Sheut just enough for his own body's devastating exhaustion to leak into every fiber. Bodhan waking up had been good for the Spaniard's heart, but not his body. He could have used another few days of recovery before becoming nursemaid. Again with the backpack. The faint smile was defeated in the dark as bald head shook gently. He knew the Czech enough to know he would not let it go. Empty glass was lightly pulled from Bo's fingers, refilled and held out again. Happy the younger man at least was consuming his own liquids, there was still a half bag left on the IV but Chelsea hadn't mentioned changing the bag so he assumed she expected the Czech to be able to take over from there. [bodhan] There’s two things in it for you. One needs to be locked up immediately, the other… is for you. [/bodhan] Chest seized at the statement. Flood of emotions poured back, every pain from the last two months tightened his breath. He had been ready to make it forever, the Czech hadn't, and every moment since then had only put more space between them. Goodbye gifts? He had been half expecting them for a while now. Finding Maree meant Bodhan had his family. He didn’t need a substitute anymore. The Spaniard would become no more than a shadow, protecting them and the generations that came after them. Strong hands felt weak as they pushed up from the chair, careful to stay out of the light of the whirring monitor beside the Czech as he could feel the gray sweats were stuck to him in places where the skin was still healing. No need to cause worry. [gabriele]….only if it makes you relax and rest.[/gabriele] Soft words warmed the space between them as he moved across the room. Backpack was slid from the counter opposite the bed, walked over and set gingerly at the hip of the Czech as he carefully set himself back into the chair.
  7. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    He was panicking. Fingers just kept seeking the locks, stroking gently into them, hoping to entice a calm. Bo needed rest.. he needed healing. [bodhan]Cant stay.. we shouldn’t be here…[/bodhan] [gabriele]It’s a safe house Bodhan….. the doctor is Sheut… we are safe here. You are safe here….[/gabriele] Instead he gently tipped more water towards the younger man's lips… helping him to moisten the parch that several days on IV fluids would have left him with. Again with the backpack. Frown darkened over the chocolate eyes that could see in the near pitch. He needed to calm the frantic panic that was permeating from every pore of the Czech, but the two had so much distance between them lately he wasn’t sure if he could do that for the younger man. [bodhan]..it’s the only thing that matters anymore. Not my science, or my mind… or my work.[/bodhan] [gabriele]….you matter more than all those things.[/gabriele] The scent of salted moisture did not escape the Spaniard. Thumb pressing firmly over and up on the temple as the fingers kept inside the cherry kissed curls. Always with the weight of the world on his shoulders… and the Spaniard unable to carry the weight for him. [bodhan]…never going to pick up a pencil again....this… what happened in New York, this world… it’s all my fault.[/bodhan] Lips parted but closed again…. the world was the Czechs doing and undoing. Seemed a bit much to take on mere human shoulders. It was time to bring this spiral to a halt. Smile was soft as head shook, index finger wrapping a lock at the Czech's temple around it. [gabriele]….you made the world in seven days too?[/gabriele] The soft words were a tease, a nudge to remind the Czech none of them were that big in this world as to think they were the cause of its rise or demise. But the smile drifted off as fingers sifted through carrot-top curls. He knew the younger man enough to know a downward spiral when he saw it. He needed to put the brakes on even harder. But to do so…. he was about to break all sorts of Sheut covenants…. secrets only the nation was privy to. Free arm folded on the bed beside the Czech, chin resting on it as eyes slid slightly upward to watch the younger man in the dim light [gabriele]…you know….. the viruses…… they predate all of us….. predate our wars….predate your science….[/gabriele] Even if Bodhan was walking away from him… he would give the Czech the truths. Hand slid from the warm curls to run over his own head only halt abruptly hitting sensitive healing skin rather than unkept peppered locks. Folding his arm over the other instead he rested his chin once more as a finger lightly slid along the side of the IV entry on the Czech's hand. [gabriele]….why do you think history is littered with "demons" since the beginning of time?..[/gabriele] Soft words came with a gentle smile as he watched the fluids drip through the clear tube. [gabriele]…. Lycanthropes…. Sheut….Morteximus…... werewolves…vampires….. the black plague…..the same….[/gabriele] Brow furled a bit he had never been great with words. Brute force had been his thing. [gabriele]….they all died out centuries ago….. naturally selected to be inferior to you….. but….[/gabriele] Sitting back in his chair, hands slid from the bed to fall into his lap…scowling into them. [gabriele]…. 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.[/gabriele] It was a dangerous confession. If the manner that made them extinct the first time was discovered it was possible that the past could be repeated.
  8. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    Sleep was heavy but still he woke often, too concerned about keeping an eye on the Czech. He dipped his fingers often in the water and gently rubbed over the younger man's dry lips in an effort to begin to hydrate him. Fingers kept gently gliding over the gnarled forehead and into the ginger curls, wanting so badly to lessen the agitation that seemed to haunt the younger man. He had just about dozed off again when the throat cleared and the Spaniard sat bolt upright beside in, raw fingers stroking softly trying to ease the Czech out of his sedation. [bodhan]…Gabe.. backpack..[/bodhan] [gabriele]…shhh… I got it… don’t worry… its here..take it easy.. you have been out for several days.[/gabriele] He was thankful for the dark. It would be a bit of time before the Czech could really see the Spaniard and his scorched self. [bodhan]…have something.. for you..[/bodhan] Head shook gently as the fingers lightly pulled through the bangs. [gabriele]It can wait Bodhan….[/gabriele] Name breathed so softly from his lips. It had been a long time since he had used it. It had been so long since they had been this close. There was a good chance when Bo was fully conscious, he wouldn’t let the Spaniard be this close anymore. He wanted to savor the moment for as long as was possible. [bodhan]…I screwed up.[/bodhan] Head shook, moisture sitting thick just on the edge of his lower lids. Forehead rested on the mattress beside the Czech's shoulder. He didn’t know where he had gone wrong with the younger man, but somewhere he had failed him. [bodhan]…I screwed up.[/bodhan] [gabriele]…no…… I wasn’t there for you….[/gabriele] Words were so soft as he laid a hand so gently on the shoulder to stop the Czech from moving. [gabriele]… I got some water for you… hold on.[/gabriele] Foot stepped on the peddle below the bed to engage the motor, head of the bed slowly angling up just a couple inches so that he could give him some water without the Czech drowning in it. He poured just a little into the glass and moved to give it to the chapped lips, tipping the glass carefully to ensure he didn’t dump it over the Czech. He didn’t want to give too much either, he knew the stomach could be merciless when coming out of sedation. Setting the glass to the side he allowed himself to steal another touch, gently stroking back the ginger at the younger man's temple. [gabriele]… 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…[/gabriele] Voice was never more than a calm whisper. He knew Bodhan would want to know what was going on so he offered answers before the questions were asked. [gabriele]… this is a private clinic… we are the only ones here. Doctor finally went home after you were stitched up.[/gabriele] He didn’t want the Czech worrying about things he didn’t need to.
  9. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    The Sheut was unaware of the days that passed by, nor the tear of his skin being unwrapped, slathered and wrapped again, nor the tube that was shoved down his throat several times a day to dump nutrition down his gut by the gallons. But Chelsea had been persistent, she wasn’t letting him slip away on her watch and the first signs of skin healing was a sign the Sheut was not likely to die on her. It was two days after bringing the Czech in before the Spaniard showed signs of life. A relief for the doctor that had been watching over him. Thick crusted lashes shifted for the first time with enough energy to show a shiver of life. Groan was the second sign as pain pushed through to conscious awareness. [gabriele]..fuck…..[/gabriele] The swear was barely audible as lips that had peeled several times fought being dry and cracked. Deep breath brought a wince as his gut warned him that he was stuffed unnaturally. [npc]…well its about damn time.[/npc] Lashes finally managed to separate and look through the dark room to the doc leaning against the open door with her arms folded over her chest. [npc]..thought I was going to be digging you a grave you dumbass.[/npc] Lips pushed to quirk upward as he shifted in the recliner and tried to sit up. Frown was instant as why he ws here suddenly flooded back, deep chocolate snapping to the bed about to get the Czech's name off his lips when she answered the unspoken question. [npc]… he is fine. Banged up and will be sore but nothing some rest wont cure. Kept him asleep while you were out. Figured wouldn’t do him any good healing seeing you look like a scorched corpse. [/npc] The "thanks" was croaked from the back of his sore throat, scratched by the tube going in and out for feeding. Damn what had she done to him. A couple hours later and he was in much better shape. She helped him to the shower to peel off the wraps and rinse the sloughed skin off. The good news was his muscles were no longer showing through, though he was red like a lobster as the new skin that had grown over remained marred by intense healing. Bad news was he was apparently hairless. Fingers ran over the bald head as he looked in the mirror, the missing eyebrows a bit freaky. Yet he remembered this look. It wasn’t the first time he had been scorched. Truth be told, he was doing pretty good. Couple more days and his skin would no longer be sensitive at all and just look like well tanned Spanish flesh. Might even have the start of peach fuzz growing back in too. Fresh sweats were waiting for him on the shower bench, the antibiotic cream there for him to rub in wherever the skin was still too raw. His neck, head and hands were the only places he really needed it anymore. By the time he got back to the Czechs room he felt a bit more "alive". Bare feet padded back to the chair only to quirk a brow. The flesh stained one had been swapped out for a new recliner from another room and a bottle of rum and a pitcher of water were sitting next to a glass on the side table beside it. She was too good to him. [npc]…figured you weren't planning to go anywhere. [/npc] He looked up to find her in the doorway again. Smile this time managed to look like a smile and not a wince. [gabriele]Thanks Chels…[/gabriele] [npc]…yea yea yea…. he is in your care now. I got a life you know. Dropped his sedation while you were in the shower. Would expect he will be up in a few hours. Be sure to hydrate him and your own damn self. And I don’t mean only with that rum.[/npc] A soft chuckle murmured in his chest as he nodded. Frown came as his memory kept coming back. [gabriele]…hey Chels… the car needs…[/gabriele] [npc].. you think I didn’t recognize it as Jacob's ride. He loves you but you would be dead if he saw that interior. Its already been to Pete's. He detailed damn thing better than new and its parked out front again for you. Keys are on the sill behind his bed. [/npc] Smile was relieved. She was too damn fucking good to him. [npc]…by the way.. had to call him. He would have come poking around otherwise. Told him you and his ride were here because the kid was banged up and that you weren't likely to leave for a few days. When he sees your bald ass he will know I was not telling the whole truth but I leave that to you to sort out and make right.[/npc] [gabriele]…thanks Chels… owe you… big time.[/gabriele] [npc]…yah… you do…[/npc] With that she headed out leaving him to his healing and oversight of the Czech. He drug the recliner a bit closer, collapsing back into the leather now able to reach out and caress the forehead that seemed permanently etched with agitation. It might be short lived, he knew the Czech no longer wanted him, but for now, he stole a moment to feel the warmth under his raw fingers one last time, tips of his fingers brushing up into the ginger locks careful to avoid the stitches carefully wrapped at the back. Eyes closed and he was quickly asleep, but fingers still clung to this "last moment" gently stroking the temple and ginger locks.
  10. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    She had more than once picked up the phone. Call Ausar? Call Jacob? Who the fuck should she be reporting this to? He had fallen into an almost torporish state. No movement as she worked to slide the sweatshirt off and replace the dressing and re-lather his non-existent skin with cream. His hair had come off in her hands as his scalp sloughed off. Now she sat in a chair more worried about the Executioner than the human he had brought in. The human would live…. the Spaniard…. Dammit! Phone was snatched out of her pocket and slid open, hesitating only a moment before letting it ring. His voice instantly calmed her frayed nerves. [gabriele]Chels… long time no hear…. All ok?[/gabriele] She was both relieved and panicked to hear the thick accent. She glanced at the Spaniard and shook her head as though the Minister of North America could see her. [npc]…actually Adrian… looking for some advice…. trying to figure out best way to treat a Sheut with heavy sun exposure.[/npc] There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Shit. She didn’t want Gabriele in trouble but she damn well needed some advice. [gabriele]Something I should know about…?[/gabriele] Head shook again as she made sure her tone stayed light. [npc]…nah…. just someone young and stupid.[/npc] His chuckle filled the line. At least the sound had her feeling he wouldn’t make any assumptions about the Executioner. [gabriele]… need to talk to Salvatierra on that one. Only one I know to get a super sunburn and survive. Lot of feeding… that I know… and keep somewhere dark. Story I heard is he was kept underground in the pitch and fed nonstop with Sheut blood. Though honestly... might just damn well be that Spaniard's constitution.. tough old bird.[/gabriele] She forced a "light" chuckle to ensure the topic remained as non-serious as she could make it sound. [npc]…well… human's going to have to do… I don’t exactly keep sheut on tap in volume. Thanks Adrian… will see what I can do.[/npc] [gabriele]…good luck… and talk to Salvatierra for more details.[/gabriele] She said her thanks and snapped the phone shut again. Keep feeding him. Great. He had wiped out her stock here already. The room they were set up in was interior so she went ahead and snapped the lights off just in case the fluorescents would harm him further, the room darkening in ebony, bathed only in the soft blue hue of the lights on the IV monitor worn by the human like a child's nightlight. She then set about the next half hour making about twenty calls calling in every favor to get blood stock sent to her. By the next day she had managed to tube several gallons down the Spaniard and continued to slather his skin in cream. He was looking worse not better but to the doctor's eyes this was a good thing, one of his layers of skin was beginning to heal over itself. The kid should be awake soon and there in was a debate. She strongly doubted Gabriele wanted him to see the Spaniard this damaged. She knew who the Czech was and how important he was to the Executioner. The IV drip was adjusted on the kid to continue to include a mild sedative, at best he would fade in and out without real awareness of his surroundings. Best they both slept a few days anyway. What a mess these two had drawn her into.
  11. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    The Mustang couldn’t get up to the same speed as his Gatti but… it came damn close. That little bike Bo had was never going to make these kinds of speeds but the strip was over forty minutes closer to the cabin. Based on when the Czech tore out of the hanger and the Spaniard's current speed, he might actually overtake him on the road. At least…. he had hoped so. Snarly engine died as he turned the key, unable to move through the wooded area, he was forced to pursue on foot. This was a problem. Chocolate flicked up and to the side, squinting at the daylight that came through the tinted windows. Flesh tingled everywhere and a glance in the rear view mirror confirmed that he had the complexion of a Spaniard who had been sunbathing all summer to a deep almost unnatural mahogany. A stroll outside and he would be blistering. Sigh grumbled in his chest. Patience wasn’t really his virtue. He should have thought this through more…brought some protective gear. As it stood he was going to have to make do with sitting his ass in the car until at least the start of dusk. Dark eyes braved the light some more as he stared down the path looking for signs the Czech had come through. He wasn’t disappointed, freshly broken branches betrayed the hasty entry of the man on his bike. [gabriele]…fuck..[/gabriele] Soft swear murmured his lips as his forehead pressed to the steering wheel of the brawny mustang. Breathing seemed like a chore as he could actually hear the damn second hand of his watch tick by time with the speed of molasses. Time also brought doubt. Bo likely didn’t want him here. He might very well wait until dusk, hike up to the cabin and be told to fuck off. At least he would know the Czech was safe. Fatigue and sunburn caught up with the Spaniard, eyes closing and the mind beginning to drift off when the first pop rang in his ears, sitting straight up he blinked heavily trying to orient himself. Nostrils flaring as he tried to make sense of the sound. A whiff of something burning just before….. The eruption literally shook the mustang and rational thought was lost. Door flung open and the vampire was sprinting through the mottled sunlight of the woods. Fire, explosion… BO! Heart was in his throat as he didn’t notice the first blisters begin to swell and explode on his skin. No no no no NO! Nostrils were flaring for the familiar scent as he ran towards the burning building only to stop dead in his tracks and pivot. Bo wasn’t in there…….. he wasn’t in there! It was his blood that the Spaniard picked up, a fact that drew a deeper intensity to his sprint. Tumbled in the grass was the Czech. [gabriele]BO!..[/gabriele] No response made that pit in his throat bigger. Sliding to his side it only took a moment to realize he WAS breathing…. but he was also in bad shape. Hand reached out to the Czechs cheek only to recoil as he finally recognized his skin had begun to dangerously boil. No time. The younger man was scooped up and clung close to his chest as he began to sprint back to the mustang, nearly falling flat when he tripped over the bike laying on its side. Snarling at it he took just enough time to grab Bo's bag. If the Czech had bothered to keep it, it must be important. By the time he made the mustang, hands were smoldering and their tremor made it nearly impossible to open the passenger door and drop the unconscious Bo in the seat. Stumbling he made his way to the driver door, collapsing in and slamming the door shut as he tossed the bag into the back seat. Skin blistered with a ferocity he had only experienced once……and then he had meant to boil until he ceased to exist. Now it was in the way as he reached for Bo and gently moved his head to look at the blood he could smell dripping from the back. [gabriele]Oh god…..please don’t leave me Bo…..[/gabriele] The words were so soft before he pulled his hand away realizing he was leaving blood of his own on the Czech's skin. Mustang was revved up with a wince, under his shirt and pants skin continued to blister and boil. Every crank of the wheel left blood and flesh behind on the leather cover but the Spaniard didn’t seem to notice as the Mustang roared back to Chelsea's. Fingers fought to pull the phone from his pocket, melting skin slipping on the metal surface before he managed to autodial her and warn her he was coming in with a badly injured person. Swerves were wild as blisters on eyelids marred his vision. By the time he made the clinic he knew Bo wasn’t the only one in trouble. He didn’t bother with the shaded entrance, slamming on the brake in front of the main steps and shoving his door open to run around and get the Czech out. She came running out but stopped dead in her tracks seeing him…. [npc]….Gabriele…..[/npc] The soft expression of his name held a tinge of horror as he brushed right past her into the building. [gabriele]…..where?...[/gabriele] His voice cracked, pain evident in the sound causing her green eyes to widen. Pain was not something she had ever seen expressed in the big Spaniard. Blinking she got her wits about her to finally look at the man cradled in the vampire's arms. Chin jutted down the hallway. [npc]X-ray first.[/npc] It was a long hour as she took xrays of his entire body and declared nothing broken though there were a few hairline fractures that would be sensitive and sore for a while. As she worked on sewing up the back of the badly split open scalp she breathed a bit of a hiss at the Spaniard. [npc]…. get to storage and drink… whatever I got in there…[/npc] [gabriele]..no… I want to….[/gabriele] [npc]Go…[/npc] There was a snap in her words. [npc]….I have never seen a sheut look like you look now…go…. I have this… he will be fine.[/npc] She wasn’t giving him options. Tremors ran his body as he found the storage room and proceeded to drain the fridge. Every last bag of precious vitae that she needed to help heal her patients were now gone. All his fault. The hunger had waned, but the healing……. Flesh has been blistering and rupturing against fabric for almost two hours now, the fibers having melted into his skin. As he worked to slide the tee up he bit his tongue hard, several layers of skin coming away with the fabric, the raw slimed crimson layer angrily pussing as he fought for a breath and kept pulling. He couldn’t heal if he didn’t get the fused clothes off. Still having tremors didn’t help either. Pain ebbed and flowed with the ferocity of stormy waters. He would rather be shot a hundred times over. By the time she had the Czech comfortably in a bed with an IV drip to keep him out of pain and a bit sedated, the Spaniard had managed to peel his pants from his legs. The gasp when she walked in was telling, but not as much as the horrified expression in her eyes. The body looked like a skinned cadaver in a college doctorate program. [npc]…Gabriele…..……..can you… heal from this….?[/npc] Could he? Nine years ago he had sat outside and waited for the dawn to take him. Boiling alive is how Ausar had found him. He had healed then but it had been on Ausar's blood, straight from the vein…. not bottled bags. That wasn’t what was important. [gabriele]…..how is he?[/gabriele] Her disapproving frown etched over green eyes that he changed the topic. [npc]….he will be fine. Big crack to the skull that sheered open a good hunk of flesh. Got him stitched up and on some morphine to kill the pain. Few hairline fractures, one long one in the collarbone will need to watch so doesn’t break it. Going to be sore as hell, bruises were coming out all over.[/npc] Nod was faint as he showed no shame standing naked in front of her. Boiled skin dripped with puss as he glanced at her and shook his head. [gabriele]….just do what you can.[/gabriele] Clearing her throat she started the tedious process of peeling away any dead skin still left covering his form before gloved hands began to slather his body in thick white antibiotic cream. They argued as she wanted to let it breathe, he wanted it wrapped so he could cover it with clothes and get back to the Czech. She finally succumbed, wrapping him like a mummy before bringing him a pair of sweats to slide over the white gauze, only his bandaged feet and hands peeking out. Face covered in white cream he fell into the recliner by Bo's bed, pained flinch punctuated by a stuttering breath into his lungs. Dark chocolate watched the Czech breathe in silence as Chelsea stood in the doorway, finally shaking her head and walking out to give them some privacy. [gabriele]…………don’t leave me…..[/gabriele] The soft whisper no longer referred to the Czech losing his life…. It meant so much more.
  12. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    The Spaniard blinked at the "reception" he got on the other side of the line, then heard Jacob call for Bo. What the hell was going on? [jacob] Christ, where are you? I told you to be here! He took off, I don’t know where the fuck he’s going. Went north to the highway. Sister’s fine. Everyone’s fine. He’s not fine. Physically yes, just… not fine. Fucking virus bullshit let loose intentionally in a New York hospital. Contained but.. shit… he’s not fine. Hasn't said a word since we left New York [/jacob] He tried to drink it all in but Jacob was running a mile a minute and pissed as hell. [jacob]Why arent you here?[/jacob] [gabriele]…phone was dead.. I just got the message and immediately called. Am heading out there….[/gabriele] Shit what a mess and Jacob had a right to be angry. All the Spaniard had here at the club was his bike. He would make maybe fifteen minutes before he melted on it. [jacob] I’m headed back to Shadow on my bike, gonna pick up my car and go home. I need to go home. He’s probably going up to that fucking cabin of his to be a sullen jackass [/jacob] JACOB'S CAR! He would kill him but…. [gabriele]…I got it… don’t worry… just head home. I will get the Czech.[/gabriele] He had never called him that to Jacob. It had always been Bo. But somehow he couldn’t get the man's name to cross his lips. The pause was small before he added a quiet….thanks. He didn’t wait for a response, clicking the phone closed. He hoped Jacob would just go home. If he came to the club and found his car gone and Gabe's gone… he would put two and two together. He would know to go to Pedro's and efforts to hide the fiasco that had been his mission would go up in proverbial smoke. It didn’t matter. He should know what a monster he worked for…. he had a right to know…. Sigh came slowly in his chest as a hand wiped across his lips frowning. Finally he moved, heading for the staff bays to find Jacob's. Fortunately they kept all the staff cars behind security doors with the keys hanging in a hand register panel. Keys were quickly acquired, a quick scribbled note apologizing and letting him know he had to take it just in case Jacob actually came to the club. Mustang roared to life at a volume that would deafen the Bughatti but he hesitated as the door behind it opened. The windows were tinted but not as much as his Bugatti. His "tan" was about to get a lot darker. He should have drank more. It was a dangerous thought as he put it in gear and backed out with a more aggressive lurch than he was expecting… car was suped up, snarly, not as sleek a ride as the powerful Gatti but damn powerful just the same. Steel door was closing as he slammed it into drive and peeled out of the parking lot, fishtail more violent than with his ride before it caught the road and sped down the street. The cabin…. they hadnt been back up to the cabin since………
  13. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    Two hours and a last xray later, he was finally confirmed to be internally "jewelry" free. Standing in his blood-stained briefs he frowned down at the tray that held over sixty crimson covered rounds. God, he really had been on a suicide mission. Chelsea was just finishing up scrubbing her arms in the metal sink as she glanced over her shoulder at him. Nostrils huffed quietly before she turned her back on him again, towel pulled from the hook to dry off her hands. [npc]…let's get one thing straight. Another reckless stunt like this Gabriele.. and I will report it. Don’t think I don’t know you compromised yourself.[/npc] Dark eyes snapped up to look at her, vibrant greens leveled at him with the stern expression of a Catholic school Reverend Mother. [npc]… you think I didn’t notice you checking out my jugular?[/npc] Swallow was thick but he said nothing. He couldn’t deny it. Twice the echo of her blood, the scent of the sweet, just beginning to age ambrosia caught his attention with a viciousness he had not experienced in some seven years. Breaking his vow never to drink again from the heat of flesh had possibly compromised his very soul. And she knew his secret. [npc]You told me once it took you nearly a year to lose that hunger, to get to the point that the bags and bottles were sufficient. I hope it doesn’t take you that long this time.[/npc] He could only nod faintly. Her head tilted towards the hallway. [npc]I will get your crap out of the car. Get washed up, you know where the clothes are.[/npc] Nodding like an obedient, scolded schoolboy, bare feet padded down the hall. He kept clothes here. They used to get dusty between missions, these days there were so many missions they were practically right out of the cleaners bag. Shower ran red forever, freezing water causing bumps to flush all over his skin as he hit his forehead several times against the locker room tile wall. He was suddenly wondering if Bo would even come back with Jacob. What if he decided to stay with his sister? What if…. this was it? Clean jeans were slid over drying flesh, sitting on the old bench to pull on his socks as he tried to shake the ominous revelation that he might have actually said goodbye to the Czech for the last time. Black tee was pulled over his damp curls just as she came back into the building. The ebony sport blazer was tossed over the arm of the office couch as she walked in and dumped a blood stained bag on the coffee table. [npc]…phone's dead, need to charge it and that car needs to go to Pedro's to get scrubbed down and repaired before anyone at Shadow sees it and figures out you are an idiot.[/npc] He couldn’t help the tickle of smile at her. She was right though. Based on the number of rounds she had removed he could only guess how much blood was inside the cabin of his vintage ride. Jacob would lose his shit. [gabriele]…mind calling Pedro to have it towed out today? Since my phone's dead and all.[/gabriele] Her green orbs rolled at him. [npc]…am your doctor not your valet Salvatierra.[/npc] But even as she pulled her purse over her shoulder she was pulling her phone out to make the call. [npc]...I assume you need a lift back to your place.[/npc] He offered an appropriate schoolboy "innocent" smile. [gabriele]..could you?[/gabriele] Again the eye roll as she went to get the car and pull it to the southern entrance where the landing would be in shadow and not threaten to set him on fire. He needed to be home because he hadn't told a soul he was going on a mission. Had he been killed, or worse captured, no one would have known. It really had been a dumb move. While she was getting the car he slid his things out onto the coffee table, frowning at his house keys, phone and two empty guns all covered in dry blood. He quickly went back to the operating room sink to rinse things off as best he could, trying not to douse the phone past the point of operating again. By the time she was dropping him off at Shadow he was ready for that nap. Place was deathly quiet as he made his way up to the private living quarters, hand laying on the scanner to open the front door before tossing the blazer on the couch and plugging the dead phone in on the kitchen counter. Executioner faceplanted on the oversized couch. A couple hours of snooze… that’s all he needed. …..all he needed. Oblivion had come quickly but was far too short lived. Body bolted up, on his feet, canines bared threatening whatever enemy had just woken him from his dead sleep. Big chocolate orbs blinked as the beep of the phone finally getting enough charge to register that a voicemail had been left. Went off for the second time. Hands rubbed his eyes as heavy lids threatened to go back to sleep rather than check it. But if he didn’t want his absence to be so obvious he needed to be "available". Of course the people that would call him also knew he slept days. Grumbling he moved to the phone on the counter, flipping it open he frowned at the little blinking envelop. But as he listened the lower lip was chewed. Frown darkening his brow. Was Bo with "them"? or was Jacob trying to make this easier on the Spaniard. Glancing down he couldn’t figure out when the voicemail was delivered. Five minutes ago? Three hours ago? [gabriele]…shit.[/gabriele] Fingers quickly found the autodial for his head bouncer as he grabbed his blazer and scampered out the door to the garage only to stop dead growling at the empty space. His car was now at Pedro's. He needed a fucking ride because the sun was too high for him to take the motorcycle. [gabriele]…shit shit shit….[/gabriele] Maybe they weren't even at the airport anymore. Foot tapped impatiently waiting as Jacob's phone began to ring.
  14. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    As he sat nearly naked on the rolling stool with her skilled hands digging another bullet out of his back, the dark eyes flicked around the clinic with a scowl permanently etched over them. He had never come in "hot" like this before. The place looked like a bomb went off. Bent steel IV stands littered the hallway, the bags of blood she had set on them for his arrival torn into with enough savagery that spatters were on the damn ceiling. There were far more than she had ever set out before too. She must have known how bad it would be. Damn visions of hers always taking the fun out of surprises. He was thankful this time. He could have really hurt her…. or worse. He didn’t remember getting here. He must have been in full frenzy by the time the Bugatti crashed into the stone wall of the steps outside. That would be a tough one to explain to Jacob, dark chocolate's skimming to the side to peek again out the sunny door down the hall to see the bent up fender half mooned around the corner of the stones. He also must have not had his wits around him anymore to roll up the windows, glancing down to the hands that hung lifeless between his knees he was struck at how dark his skin was, almost reminiscent of his Spanish heritage before he had ever been infected. While it made him look like a damn healthy human, it was a sign he had almost committed suicide without even knowing it. Hand came up to wipe the dry blood from the corner of his lips as she started slicing into healed flesh once more. She had made him stand in the xray box so she could draw "x"s all over him where the bullets had already been healed over. One by one she was cutting fresh into his skin and pulling them out. Last count of the sound of metal plinking into the tray beside her, they were up to twenty six. He had won. Again. Yet he felt utterly and completely defeated. None of this had been about the laboratory or the zombie apocalypse someone seemed determined to unleash on the world. This catastrophic outcome had everything to do with a broken heart that had decided to turn reckless rather than face the pain. [npc]… you about ready to start telling me what the fuck happened this time?[/npc] Blink was pronounced. She had been working in silence for about two hours now, clearly giving him time to fully let the fog of frenzy lift and his wits to come back to him. Looking around the half destroyed clinic and recognizing he very well could have ended up killing her this time… he owed her answers. [gabriele] ….victim of my own success.[/gabriele] That Chels stayed quiet told him she wasn’t buying that answer. He also knew he owed her a lot more. Shoulders lifted and fell with the deep breath before he offered what she deserved. [gabriele]…they were ready for me in a way none of the other camps were. A lot more nocturn-infected on the premises than I have encountered before. Also had significantly more weapons, some geared specifically to take on someone with my strength.[/gabriele] He had to admit, the steel cabled harpoon was a unique and fairly effective weapon, had it been larger and better anchored it might have stood a real chance of stopping him. Metal plinked again in the tray before she slapped his shoulder and hitched a thumb at the examining table. Hopping up onto the cold leather in just his skivvies he shuddered and muttered before leaning back on his elbows just as her hand roughly pushed his thighs apart. [gabriele]Hey![/gabriele] [npc]…quit being a baby… not like I haven't seen it all before.[/npc] The magnifying goggles were pulled down over her eyes as she got to work on an "X" she had marked on his inner thigh. [npc]…and I didn’t mean the camp…. I meant you.[/npc] His breath sucked in as a scalpel cut far too close to family jewels he was keen on keeping. The dark scowl covering his brow betrayed that he knew exactly what she was referring to. The number of wounds, where they were, the depth that betrayed they were often at close range…his precious car half wrapped around her steps…. all were signs of a reckless disregard for his own life. Elbows shifted and broad shoulders hit the leather, head resting back to stare up at the pock marked holes of the dropped ceiling tiles as she worked. [gabriele]…I don’t know Chels….[/gabriele] Eyes closed as he tried to breathe slower and calm everything. [gabriele]… I needed to feel….angry… invincible…. felt the need to taunt death to come for me….[/gabriele] Quiet words were hardly the tone of the Nation's cold blooded Executioner. He was supposed to be the unwavering precision instrument of the grand chancellor. It was pretty evident by his words and his wounds, he was more likely a loose cannon right now. [npc]…I report it and Ausar will have you pulled. [/npc] She was right. The chancellor would have him permanently stationed back in Glamis. Maybe Bo needed the Spaniard gone. Maybe that would be best for everyone. Problem was, if he was gone, he knew the Nation would never protect the Czech the way he would, and no matter how much the Czech might hate him, he couldn’t let anything happen to the man. Sighing softly an arm came up to drape over dark eyes as the head shook. [gabriele]…don’t Chels… its just a pained heart acting out. It will pass.[/gabriele] The woman was a trusted confidant, had been for more than six years now. She knew many of his secrets that were still hidden from the rest of the Nation. Her soft grunt told him she would go along with him…. for now. As the knife bit flesh once again, he wondered how things had gone in New York. For the first time since he had set out on his bloodbath, he let himself remember that Jacob had gone to Bo's rescue… not him.
  15. Gabriele Salvatierra

    Scotch & Speed & Zombies, Oh My

    Feet stumbled in the barn, bloody hand pulling on the driver's door handle of the Bugatti. He had done his job, saved the day, took out the "bad" buys. But in doing so, he had been the monster the Czech had been pushing aside since Scotland. Another camp had been shut down… but perhaps this time, it had been at the expense of the Spaniard's humanity. He had run out of "food" but not dripping wounds. Knife's edge of frenzy lending to a wild exit from the barn, wheels spinning and fishtailing before he got the vehicle turned back around and headed towards LA. Orange haze over the thick woods betrayed the cleansing fire he had left behind. When it was all said and done, some forty five bodies lay smoldering in a pile, sixteen of which lay there devoid of blood. Seven years he had not fed from flesh. Seven years of platelets and bottled blood. Seven years of control undone in a single night. A second pyre was burning the "dog pound". The bastards had turned their zombie horde on him and he had been bitten five or six times before he had been able to put them all down. The viral venom now blazing through his weakened system to erupt moisture thick on his brow. He normally worked hard to avoid getting bit. While he couldn’t get the infection, it did cause one nasty case of flu that was doing nothing to improve his feral mood. Wheels finally hit real highway and the Spaniard opened it up, red lining the sport vehicle as he topped 250mph. He would make LA in just three hours. Problem was, it was already after four… dawn would catch him. Windows were rolled down to try and temper the heat of frenzy and fever, knowing the tinted glass would need to go up in about an hour. Leather seat under him was quickly growing slick with his blood as he swerved to avoid the debris on the road. One hour in and ebony orbs were fighting the blurred vision, growl a permanent fixture over the howl of wind through the windows. Canine's ached almost as bad as his empty gut. For all the glut he had indulged in, he was starving. The liquid life lost faster than he had gorged on it. He needed to warn her. Brute fingers fumbled with the glove compartment as he tried to keep the rocket on the road. Phone was finally retrieved, the doc pulled up on speed dial. Her sleepy "hello" was barely over the line when the feral growl rumbled back at her. [gabriele]….coming in extra hot…. just under two hours away.[/gabriele] Phone flicked shut and was tossed on the floor. He hadn't even waited for her to acknowledge him. Chelsea knew what it meant. She knew she needed to get ready at the "abandoned" clinic and that she needed to NOT be the first thing he saw when he got there. [npc]Malaki Min Almawt. How long before the man can no longer stomach the monster?[/npc] Car nearly rolled as he corrected around debris. The words of the Sheut Chancellor haunted the ghost of humanity still in his chest. Growl intensified with the ache. How long….. had come and gone……


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