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  • Hey there. Remember me?


    Gabriele Salvatierra

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    Oct. 20, 2017 - 10pm

     

    It had taken some time to track the man down. The card he had been given was for a company he no longer worked for it seemed. Jumped ship from New World Defense and went to Pharos of all things. Of course their time together had made it pretty clear the Nord was more scientist than brute squad so it was probably a better fit for the man. Good thing the Spaniard had Sheut contacts in nearly all factions around the world or he might not have found the guy, he didn’t exactly go around advertising his location.

     

    A good flirt with a secretary in Pharos had led to Chase getting a hold of an employment record that had the man's address on it. Shelter Island. Not exactly on the beaten path. The cruiser he had "borrowed" slid over dark waters as he made his way for Dickerson Creek. The ferry landing would be easier but also more watched and there was a need for secrecy on this visit. Hell, there was a good chance the Nord himself might not be "pleased" with him dropping in, but the whole point of telling the Nord and not the Nation was to help ensure Maree's safety… and secrecy.

     

    Several long forgotten private docks were shadowed along the shore as he slowed down, water lapping against the red and white hull of the Searay. It wasn’t a large boat but it had been sufficient to hold him and the dark blue Kawasaki, also "borrowed". He was looking for abandoned and it seemed most along the shore were. The houses were still half demolished, likely from highwaters that had flooded the area during the Nevus event. The paint-chipped side of the hull bumped the rickety dock as he worked to park it close to the shore where the pylons seemed stronger. He really wasn’t in the mood for an unplanned swim.

     

    It was getting late by the time he managed to tie up the Searay and hoist the Kawasaki onto the swaying deck. The motorcycle was walked to solid ground before he pulled the folded paper from his leather bomber jacket, small flashlight turned at the top until the light popped on to check the hand written map. No one knew where he was tonight, not even Bodhan who was still in New York. Their trip to Scotland finished they had to stop over for the night before heading back to LA. The younger man had not been pleased, but reassurances that this was for him and his sister finally met with disgruntled acquiescence.

     

    The Spaniard should have called the Czech to let him know he would be late, but he hadn't even brought his phone. He couldn’t risk that the Nation might have him bugged. Kawasaki cruiser was kicked on as he tucked the map away once more. It wasn’t far from here.

     

    Headlight was never turned on as keen eyes saw plenty in the moonlight, wheels tearing over bumped pavement to make short work of the distance. He had to admit, this wasn’t a bad place to lay one's hat. It was secluded, acres to each home by the look of it. Half the places were completely devoid of life so he suspected there was only a minor population out here. The Nord likely got his privacy while still being close to the hub of the city.

     

    Long driveway opened up to a home more modest than most on the island. Not exactly the diminutive cabin in the woods he had in Scotland, but definitely a bit more conservative than he would have imagined for the hulking Nord-in-a-suit he had met. The craftsman door he came up to was quality work, made by hand, not machined. Nostrils flared as he knocked on the door. The familiar scent of the Nord was fairly recent. He was here.

     

    A second knock was met with further silence. Hand tried the handle. Locked. Fingers trailed over the wood a bit loathe to just break it down. Instead the vampire played the full part of burglar, walking the exterior and checking windows into the dark home until he came to one at the kitchen that was unlocked.

     

    Steps into the home were silent as he followed the scent that finally led him down steps to a basement. He hoped he wasn’t going to be shot before he had a chance to explain, that would be a real pain in the ass.

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    Even if Atticus owned a gun there was a slim chance he’d actually shoot anyone, least of all for burglary. Engrossed in his work while at the same time enjoying one of his favourite podcasts he remained completely oblivious to the faint creaks of the old stairway that ran along the opposite side of the wall behind him. In the case of intruders he relied on his alarm system, but it solely relied upon sensors on the front, back and garage doors. He never really considered the threat of burglars invading his out of the way home. Shelter Island had been hit hard by the devastation of the Nevus and for years had been overrun by zombies. It had only been completely cleared a little over three years ago (with the exception of a few that Atticus kept around in secluded location, for research purposes). There wasn’t anything left of any interest on the island. It had all been looted some time ago, even his own home hadn’t been spared but thankfully, damage had been minimal and memories and trivial keepsakes didn’t matter much to thieves.

    His lab had been set up in the part of the basement that had yet to be renovated, the only alteration was the floor which had been lowered and cemented. Built in 1878 the room still had the original field stone walls and timber supports lodged under wide fir beams. All it needed was a few Tesla coils and it would have been the classic mad scientist’s lair. Instead there was hundreds of thousands of dollars of high-tech equipment spanning across stainless steel tables or in metal racks and cabinets. His own private, fully functional laboratory, complete with a bio-hazard safety room in one of the corners.

    Atticus, dressed in a white lab coat, popped a slide into a microscope, took a quick a look then made a data entry on the laptop beside him. He then took another and repeated the task, work which was both monotonous and fulfilling at the same time. The last thing he ever expected to see was someone standing in the doorway. So when Gabriele took that final step onto the basement floor and filled the open doorway with his dark, hulking form Atticus nearly had a conniption. Touching metal at the time he couldn’t just vanish and so he hurled himself back and over the table behind him, lightly landing in a crouched position. It was there and then that he quickly processed the man’s features, analyzed his mannerisms, and arrived at a conclusion as to who this intruder was.

    [atticus]Gabriele?[/atticus] Atticus called out, slowly rising up from behind the table. He hadn’t seen the Sheut since their adventure in San Francisco but he recognized him right away. [atticus]Gabriele. What are you doing here? You scared the shit out of me![/atticus]

    Not that his heart still wasn’t racing at a hundred miles a second. The fact he was of all things a Vampire, and with Halloween just around the corner, fear had definitely gotten the better of him. ‘Damn! If the Vampire didn’t have a flare for dramatic entrances!’

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    As he had made the last of the steps the brows had lifted, hands inside the pockets of his jeans as the leather softly stretched over his arms. He studied the "mad scientist" lab that the Nord had set up for himself out here and at the center was the man himself, white coat and all.

     

    The man reminded him a bit of Bodhan, absorbed in his work so deeply he didn’t notice the world around him. The Spaniard was just about to clear his throat when the man actually did take notice that he was no longer alone with downright comedic consequences.

     

    He had to admit, he was once again impressed with the large man's agility as he made the leap over the table. But the hulking Nord crouched down behind the table was a bit more than he could take, chuckle welling up as a soft rumble of thunder in his chest. At least recognition came quickly.

     

    [atticus] Gabriele. What are you doing here? You scared the shit out of me![/atticus]

     

    Hand slid out of his pocket to jut a thumb over his shoulder back up the stairs.

     

    [gabriele]… I did knock. [/gabriele]

     

    Faint smirk came as he leaned a shoulder against the opening of the door. It had been a while since he and the man had been battling zombies and idiot vampires but it seemed the Nord hadn't changed. There was something very reassuring in that thought. After all he was here entirely based on what he remembered the man to be like, right down to the nice smell of his blood as it thundered heavily through his veins. Yes, this lab was much more the Nord's speed than whizzing bullets and vampires trying to punch a hole in his gut. He was more suited to his science flights of fancy.

     

    [gabriele]…calm that heart would you… going to make me hungry.[/gabriele]

     

    Smirk was fuller at the joke but he didn’t move from the doorway, no need to get the man more worked up than he already was.

     

    [gabriele] Was in New York and thought I would take you up on that offer to come by. Not an easy man to find though Atticus.[/gabriele]

     

    Dark eyes wandered over the lab slower this time. It was not a leap to consider the man was down here experimenting on the samples they had picked up that night. He had brought a gift for the Nord of a more recent sample. Silver case was pulled out of an inner pocket of the leather bomber jacket, the same case he had slid vials into that night they met. The sealed case was tossed from the doorway over the table to the Nord, confident he had the reflexes to catch it.

     

    [gabriele]Also brought a present. Something more recent I thought you might want to study.[/gabriele]

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    A pensive calm washed across Atticus’ face as the Vampire’s joke was all but lost, literally taking such comments, ‘to heart’ where his kind was concerned. Being more educated than most on the subject he knew precisely what these creatures were capable of and to some degree, was always on guard. Even around Gabriele, after all, how many times had they met? A few. Multiply that by a hundred and Atticus still would never implicitly trust the ‘man’ where his ‘hungers’ were concerned. Anyone was wise not to.

    Atticus did indeed recall his extended offer to ‘drop by’ and maybe, deep down, this was precisely what he had expected… at the time.

    Plucking the small silver case out the air, Atticus was swift to pop it open, procuring a vile and holding it’s contents up to the light above him.[atticus] Where did you get these?[/atticus] He inquired, already suspecting that the Vampire did not come all this way to give him a ‘gift’, although samples of this nature were always appreciated.

    The man’s lengthy legs carried him quickly to the other side of the lab where a series of glass doored cold storage units lined the wall. It housed a treasure trove of samples some suspiciously dating far beyond the Nevus Event itself.

    [atticus]Care for a cup of tea? I was just about to go up and make myself one.[/atticus] Atticus offered while glancing at the time by the clock on the wall and exclaiming, [atticus]An hour ago.[/atticus] He chuckled, [atticus]Must'a lost track of time. Forgot about my late dinner as well it seems. Hope y'don't mind.[/atticus]

     

    He placed Gabriele’s samples in a specific storage unit, marking them with the information provided. He then slipped off his lab coat draped it over a chair and proceeded back toward Gabriele, tossing him back his silver case.

    [atticus]Good to see you, by the way.[/atticus] He smiled, extending a friendly hand.

    [atticus]Shall we?[/atticus] He offered, gesturing back up the stairs,[atticus] I’m sure you know the way.[/atticus]

     

    ------ KITCHEN ------

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    Chuckle rumbled a bit louder at the pensive calm that washed over the Nord's expression. He tended to be very serious when it came to vampires, of course, he had good reason to be, just perhaps not from the Spaniard. Of course the Nord had no clue the "vampire" was a fridge bottle drinker.

     

    [gabriele]I told you before… not my type Atticus.[/gabriele]

     

    Grin was warm. He liked the guy, peculiarities and all. Dark eyes watched the case get captured with reflexes that still seemed to say the man should be more of a bruiser and less of a scientist but to each their own.

     

    [atticus]Where did you get these?[/atticus]

     

    [gabriele]….Europe.[/gabriele]

     

    He probably should lie. After all that was far too close to the Nation home in Scotland and as far as anyone could tell, that was still a secret. But for a scientist the importance was in the accurate details… Bodhan had taught him that.

     

    [gabriele]These …thought… more than any others I have come across. Organized pack hunting. Some waited while others chased prey into their direction. Also took rudimentary orders. "Stay"… "Attack"… that sort of thing.[/gabriele]

     

    Dark eyes watched the samples vanished into storage units packed with others. What Bodhan wouldn’t give to get his hands in here with the Nord. Probably love to talk with him about sciencey stuff that made the Spaniard's head spin. Problem was, if the Nord accepted his request it would be important for him and Bodhan not to be seen together so that he wasn’t a link between the twins.

     

    [atticus]Care for a cup of tea? I was just about to go up and make myself one.[/atticus]

     

    [gabriele]..hmm?[/gabriele]

     

    Eyes tore from the samples he was unconsciously reading labels from afar on to look at the man.

     

    [atticus] An hour ago. Must'a lost track of time. Forgot about my late dinner as well it seems. Hope y'don't mind.[/atticus]

     

    Grin came easy as did the chuckle in response. Just like Bodhan. No sense of time when enraptured.

     

    [gabriele]…sure. Tea be great.[/gabriele]

     

    Deft fingers plucked the silver case from the air and sped it back into the pocket of his jacket before shaking the man's hand, turning to follow the Nord back up the stairs.

     

    [atticus]I'm sure you know the way.[/atticus]

     

    Rich chuckle warmed his chest again.

     

    [gabriele]…hey… I did knock. And I promise I didn’t touch anything.[/gabriele]

     

    Grin remained as he slid the heavy leather bomber jacket off and laid it over the stool beside the one he saddled over at the marble bartop of the very white polished kitchen island. Very Betty Crocker for the Nord. Strangely enough the dark eyes instantly slid over every cabinet and appliance to assess the layout, determining it a very well thought out chef's kitchen. The very thought dipped his brows a bit. Damn. Bodhan had gotten in his head with that whole.. "if you weren't an executioner you would have been a chef" business.

     

    [gabriele]… nice place by the way.[/gabriele]

     

    Arms folded onto the cold stone as the dark eyes watched the man make his way around the kitchen. Fingers drummed lightly on the bar as he pondered how to get to the real reason he was there. Straightforward was probably best.

     

    [gabriele]Have to admit, kind of had an ulterior motive for tracking you down.[/gabriele]

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