Gagriel Zeru

Dreams-the-Fear

Ilani of the Balam
Son of the Olioiuqui
Night of the Ak'b'al Mountainheart

Description


Homid: ~Bad-ass Latino exotica defines Gagriel when he swaggers into view. Although his skin tone seems Hispanic, Gagriel demonstrates signature bone structure and pigmentation more common to Native Amerinds. Of course, this is not uncommon in the Americas. It's just more recognizable in this twentiesh fellow. Black hair hangs to the nape of his neck and surrounds pretty-boy, smooth features. Hazel eyes are often hidden behind a pair of Christian Dior shades. Gagriel typically wears finer garments, enjoying designer labels of expensive value. That often involves him relaxing in a pair of sleek leather pants by Calvin Klein and a loose-collared silk shirt from Zegna. Black seems to be a common motif, but it isn't constant. Versace shoes click across pavement with his approach. Vigor, wealth, and hunger herald Gagriel's arrival. Get the hell out of the way.~

OOC: Appearance 3; Style 1; Pure Breed 3; Ferocity 8, Honor 4, Cleverness 8

Sokto: ~Muscles bulge in his stylish attire. Gagriel adopts a fiercer look with Sokto. His black hair grows wild and few long wisps sprout from his cheeks. The man's features broaden primitively, reducing his cool, handsome face's allure. Hazel eyes shimmer with golden, feline slits. His shoulders heave with predatory aggression: Gagriel is ready for action.~

OOC: Appearance 2; Pure Breed 3; Ferocity 8, Honor 4, Cleverness 8

Crinos: ~Stylish attire and human visage drops away in a primeval moment. Gagriel is suddenly a beast-man: incredibly muscular, fast, tough, aggressive, and covered in fur. Only the fact that he is usually bipedal, with long grasping arms, and cunning eyes, distinguishes this form from the Chatro. Unlike some Bastet, he does not glow so much with mystical power as preternatural ferocity. This could be ascribed to his markings. Tawny fur is mottled with brown, black, and yellow spots. His broad features are distinctly feline in nature. Indeed, he's easily recognizable for his kin: Balam, jaguarfolk, the fiercest of all Seline's Children. Prey tremble at the sight of the ancient gods clothed in flesh.~

OOC: Appearance 0; Reduced Delirium; Pure Breed 3; Ferocity 8, Honor 4, Cleverness 8

Chatro: ~The purest hunter is revealed in this ancestral horror. Almost twice as big as the rainforest's jaguar but otherwise familiar in design, Gagriel is capable of rending any foe or animal apart. Sprouting from his upper maw are two huge fangs designed for bringing down the largest of prey in prehistory. What meat puppet now can withstand this natural born killer's assaults?~

OOC: Appearance 0; Delirium; Pure Breed 3; Ferocity 8, Honor 4, Cleverness 8

Feline: ~A tribute to nature's beauty and primal ascension, this feline predator stalks through flora and fauna with simple intents. Tawny fur spotted the way Jaguar designed his children, Gagriel is twice the weight of a man and it's pure muscle and savage, unnegotiating hunger. Though you can slash-and-burn their homes, there's no way through the Balam themselves but their fangs. And that's easier said than done.~

OOC: Appearance 3; Pure Breed 3; Ferocity 8, Honor 4, Cleverness 8

"I'll be taking it back now. I'm taking it all back."

History


Youth

Bolivia was like many other South American nations. It was both prosperous and plagued by the hand of the drug cartels. These criminal nobles often established vast fiefs of cocaine fields and ridiculously wealthy estates. In many nations, they boasted great influence over the government and military. In other nations, they pitted their private mercenaries against an army funded and encouraged by the United States. In Bolivia, one found both kinds of cartels. A hot bed of action, innocent civilians were caught in the crossfires plenty of times. So was the case with Linda Paz. Pregnant with her son, she saw her mate cut down in such a war. Linda knew what her mate was and she knew she was a part of that extended family. She was kin to the Balam and her son would be Balam, too. But she could not raise him alone. So for support, she entered the grounds of a cartel hidden in the eastern jungles. She let herself be captured and appealed to the drug lord, Jorge Castillo, to be allowed to stay and work and give her child to the cartel.

Castillo permitted it and Linda became one of hundreds of faceless workers and soldiers at his vast estate. She lived in a shanty house with dozens of other bunks, alongside many other women and children. That is the life to which Domingo was born. For the first several years of his life, Domingo was a hard-working farm boy in cocaine fields. He was aware of the drug’s illegitimacy. But even with the hardcore Catholic upbringing he was pretty much forced to oblige, Domingo didn’t see the drug production as wrong. Like most of the other workers there, they believed its illegality was just oppression forced on an economy dependant on that production.

Of course, Domingo thought the religion that the carteles followed was rather silly. They promised God to do one thing, then did the opposite. They seemed to have no fear of the Devil they spoke of in Mass. Such a strange religion, the boy thought. But he never questioned it aloud. Domingo stayed quiet and submissive, like his mother. When his thirteenth birthday rolled around, however, Domingo’s life changed. The strong youth was invited into the ranks of the cartel soldiers. With his mother’s permission, he gladly volunteered. Domingo underwent all of the forms of combat training available to Castillo’s private army of two hundred.

And young Domingo proved to be an able student, a natural soldier in the making. He could easily trounce his peers in (or out of) sparring practice. A real pugilist, it seemed. Castillo even came down to the training grounds one day, praising Domingo’s victory over all of his fellow students. Domingo was told that he would one day be officer material. Domingo felt proud. Unfortunately, the combat trainer didn’t share Castillo’s views. As Domingo improved in skill and pride, the trainer grew more irritable. There was just something about the youth the grizzled old mercenary didn’t like.

First Change & Tutelage

So the trainer decided to put Domingo in his place. He took Domingo out into the woods the day after Castillo praised the youth. The trainer promised it was for “officer level” training. Though Domingo sensed that his trainer disliked him, he never expected the treachery that ensued. Once in the jungle away from the estate, the trainer passed Domingo a knife and told him to attack. Figuring it was just sparring, Domingo complied…and found himself be thrown around and cut up by the better skilled trainer. For five minutes, the trainer half-taunted and half-injured the boy, cutting numerous shallow wounds all over Domingo’s body, including his face. The assault built up on the youth’s patience. Every new laceration provoked a hiss of pain and rising anger. And finally, in a climax of fury, Domingo unleashed the jaguar destined to be born from his body and soul. All Domingo saw was a dreamy haze of a spotted great cat sprinting through the forest, and lunging forward, roaring mouth swallowing him whole. But he wasn’t the one who was savaged by a jaguar. The trainer’s scream was drowned out by the jaguar’s shriek, and claws and fangs rent the mercenary to gibbons.

After the frenzy, Domingo fell from that terrifying Chatro form to his natural Homid state. He collapsed, confused, covered in blood and worse. Of course, the trainer’s screams rung out through the jungle and drew soldiers from the estate. Domingo came to his senses by the time they arrived and quickly lied, claiming it was a jaguar attack. Of course, that’s precisely what it was. Domingo just wasn’t about to tell the soldiers he thought he was the jaguar… And of course, as they say, the proof was in the pudding. The trainer was mauled like no man could do. Domingo and his trainer’s body were brought back to the estate. While he got to relax in the tiny private hospital there, Castillo dispatched a party to hunt down a jaguar they would never find. Meanwhile, the drug lord praised Domingo’s bravery, especially since Domingo claimed he frightened the jaguar off with his knife. To date, Domingo never told the carteles the truth about that event.

And that’s because “Uncle Metzl” came to teach Domingo about what his true nature. Metzl just showed up to the cartel estate and claimed guardianship of the boy. Out of nowhere, Domingo’s mother stepped forward in apparent recognition of her ‘brother-in-law’. Domingo himself sensed instinctively that Metzl meant well. Besides, if his mother trusted him… Of course, Castillo wasn’t so trusting. He refused at first, but Metzl promised the boy would be back. He just wanted to show the youth his family roots. Castillo was a traditional man and reluctantly agreed, only because Metzl presented him with a rare gold amulet reputed to be one of the lost treasures of Pizzaro.

So Metzl and Domingo left the Castillo Cartel grounds and went deeper into the Amazon. He was brought by his “uncle” to an incredibly beautiful clearing of natural flora so brilliant and vibrant, he figured it was as virginal as woodlands get nowadays. The place possessed an aura of purity and calm he could ignore and it set his nerves at ease. This was a good place to learn just what the hell he was and what was going on. And Metzl showed him. He showed Domingo the faces of the Balam. He taught Domingo the “Caliah” and “Karoush” of the Tribe and all Bastet. Domingo learned how to fight and transform. He learned how to listen to the forest and nature and learn what the Amazon expected of him.

Still, the animistic ways did not sit with Domingo as they were. As much as he felt apart of the rainforest, as its keeper and guardian, the way Metzl explained, he felt as if something was missing. God, he realized. God was above Gaia. And when he tried to explain that belief to Metzl, he provoked a vicious little match. Soon kuasha (teacher) and kit were at each other’s throats in Chatro. Soon enough, Domingo was pinned. Metzl demanded he give up the Catholic beliefs entirely, but the youth was recalcitrant. There was nothing Metzl could really do about that. It’s not like he would kill a kit because he wanted to believe in the Catholic God as well as Selene, Gaia, and nature. But that wasn’t the only thing the pair fought over in the course of the First Year of Domingo’s training. But after they licked their own wounds, Metzl explained somewhat apologetically that it was just the way of the Balam. Jaguarfolk weren’t meant to stay around each other for so long and they tended to irritate each other.

Nevertheless, Domingo learned the ways of the Balam well. By the end of the year, he proved savvy to their secret ways. He was up to par in the Balam combat methods. All of his knowledge was ready. Domingo knew how to celebrate the ceremonies of the Balam and honor the gods. Metzl acknowledged his readiness and at last taught Domingo the Yava, entering the kit into full adulthood at the first Rank of the Bastet people. He was still just a youth -- only eighteen. But he was well-trained, a better fighter than almost every mercenary in Castillo’s employ. He had the natural ferocity of the Balam and he had learned spirit lore of the jungle. He was ready to conquer, just as Metzl hoped. Because the older Balam had no intent to return Domingo to the cartel estate as promised. In fact, he intended to raid the estate and pull Domingo’s mother out of there.

Early Years

Domingo had other plans, however. He informed Metzl that he would go back to the cartel and serve Castillo…until the opportunity presented itself that he could overthrow the drug lord. With a cartel at his command, he envisioned, he could take out all the other cartels in the country. And then he would control the drug trade of Bolivia. And what he could control, he could destroy. Metzl disliked the idea immensely. Another vicious argument ensued. But since Domingo was now an adult, Metzl definitely had no control over the youth’s life decisions. He grudgingly agreed, but warned Domingo of the great danger of corruption life as a cartel lieutenant and lord would bring. The young man reassured his kuasha with an oath. He swore fiercely that he would never turn from Selene, from Gaia, or from the jungle. He swore that the cartels would be at his terrible mercy before he died.

So the Balam returned to the Castillo Cartel estate. Pleased that Metzl seemed to be a man of his word, he granted the older Balam the request to take Linda Paz. The hardened and sharpened young Domingo was worth the trade. But no longer was his name Domingo, he told his boss. He was now Gagriel Zeru. Castillo presumed that this was the boy’s “true” name as told to him by his “uncle”. In truth, Gagriel picked the name of demons from Christian myth. He intended to become a hellish terror to the cartels. He would be the Devil at which they laughed and snubbed their noses. He and his mother parted on good terms. She sneaked him a great gift that shocked even Metzl. A treasure she hid all those years from Castillo: an amulet of sacred Balam power, passed down for generations. It was once owned by Gagriel's father. Gagriel accepted the present from his mother with unusual humility (for a cat).

Then Gagriel jumped right back into the life of a soldier. Within a few months of his return, he was taking to the battlefield of the jungle with his cartel comrades. He waged war against rival cartels as well as Bolivian troops. He proved to be a fearless and heartless soldier, never hesitating to strangle his enemies as readily as shooting them. Gagriel also demonstrated innovation and charisma, leading his fellow carteles when the appointed officers fell or fled, carrying the Castillo Cartel to victory after victory. And after every battle, a promotion through the mercenary ranks awaited the young Balam. He was soon an officer in that private army. Regularly, of course, Gagriel sneaked from the estate and into the depths of the rainforest. There by a stream or tributary of the river, he performed the ritualistic purification Metzl showed him in his First Year. He had to stay regular with this ceremony, he realized, or he risked offending his blood heritage and the gods. And while God might forgive through Jesus, Gagriel knew nature was not so merciful.

But after a couple years, he earned Castillo’s trust and praise enough to be appointed as one of the drug lord’s personal lieutenants. He was given a huge raise in allowance, a lovely suite in the mansion, and more privilege than he could have imagined. In turn, he was expected to act as his lord’s personal guard. He was expected to take bullets meant for Castillo. No problem, Gagriel figured -- he could survive what most men could not. If he played it off right, he could take bullets and bounce right back. And he foiled many such assassination attempts and ambushes over the next few years. He protected the Bastet laws of secrecy, regenerating the injuries from any attacks as slowly as he could manage to avoid suspicion. Gagriel also searched for opportunities and secrets to push himself higher in the eyes of Castillo.

Gagriel continued to work hard at earning the trust of not just Castillo, but all of his men. If he wanted to wrest control from Castillo, Gagriel knew he had to have the support of the other lieutenants as well as the army. And he also had to be patient and wait for Castillo’s decline. His studies revealed that every lord had his climax and fall. So Gagriel knew he had to be patient and watch for that weakness.

And patience paid off for Gagriel. He was given yet another promotion as Castillo’s trust increased. He was appointed as a spokesperson for the cartel. It was Gagriel’s job to go into new areas and meet new people and connect them to the Castillo Cartel. He often went into towns and cities in Bolivia and neighboring countries. He spent many weeks in La Paz. It was through this duty that Gagriel became acquainted with a few of the politicians and government officials that Castillo had in his pocket. Despite his discoveries, he never tried to overthrow Castillo. It would have been a coup too easy to survive. He didn’t want to try and frighten Castillo into fleeing the country. Even if it worked, it wouldn’t take command of the cartel. No, Castillo had to be destroyed.

So Gagriel continued to serve the cartel for a few more years. He helped it expand 50% in profits in Bolivia alone through the aggressive contact-forming he made. Not only that, but even as a lieutenant he helped the deterioration of other cartels. When a rival cartel faltered, he was there to help “encourage” their assimilation through a vicious “hostile takeover” that was usually settled over automatic weapons (and occasionally fang and claw) instead of paper. Of course, the Bolivian government grew sick of these criminals. The United States also wanted to break the cartels. So one day, Gagriel was in La Paz when an assassin took a shot at him. The bullet hit him in the back of the head. Admidst shouts, his men drug his unconscious form into the cover of their car, and sped off. Of course, Gagriel couldn’t let himself die to protect the Veil. He demanded they take him to a church and be left to die alone with God. So as soon as eyes were off of him, he changed into his more resilient Sokto form, shrugged off that deadly wound, and let his damaged skull reform. Since he had to let it go for more than a few minutes, an unpleasant little scar was left behind. But his men were awestruck that he survived that wound and at how swiftly it healed.

But Gagriel showed the wisdom in sticking partially to his Catholic upbringing. After his recovery, in that church he bowed to the Virgin Mary and a cruciform of Jesus, praising God over and over. Well, obviously he wasn’t possessed or he couldn’t have entered the church. So his man soon believed that he’d been divinely touched, healed, and protected. A miracle happened for Gagriel. He was special, truly special. When he returned to the Castillo Estate, the story spread throughout the cartel. Castillo realized just how much of a disturbance Gagriel was becoming…and the opportunity the ambitious young man was presented. So he informed Gagriel that he wanted him to conduct business overseas. He wanted him to go the USA, to Kansas City. He wanted to expand his contacts in the La Cosa Nostra. The cartel was currently going through Miami and paying extra for all the middlemen. Castillo wanted to circumvent those Florida jerks. He decided to start with the “old banner” Mafia in Kansas City. Gagriel was dispatched to do that in the coming spring of 2004.

Metzl

But the Balam realized what Castillo was doing. It was just a delay, of course, but it could be a costly one. Nonetheless, Gagriel complied. However, he requested a vacation to recover from the shock of the wound and surviving through a miracle of God. He also wanted to visit his family, his mother and “uncle”, for a couple months. The vacation was granted -- Gagriel had never requested vacation before after all. So the Balam left the estate and traveled across the jungle alone, to Metzl’s Den-Realm where he was raised and trained to be Bastet.

The spirits alerted Metzl to the younger Balam’s approach. He was welcomed into the other Jaguar’s den and greeted as a little brother. He met with his mother, who was busy tending to his new half-brother. The boy, Vero, was Kin like his mother. She was now Metzl’s mate (and no, Metzl wasn’t actually Gagriel’s uncle). Gagriel stayed with Metzl and his mother for three lunar months. During that time, he caught up all the more spiritual lore he missed out on during almost a decade spent caught up in cartel business. Of course, the cocaine industry hardly made him soft, with all the fighting he had to do. But his more spiritual aspects and ritualism had suffered.

But he dove right back into the feline mysticism, missing its rich quality in fact. Metzl was honestly worried that Gagriel would falter and fall to the clutches of the Devil, Asura. But such was not the case. He proved strong and as willing a student as ever to learn the ways of the Balam. And his activities in the Castillo Cartel had not gone unnoted. The spirits brought commending news of Gagriel’s victories and secret discoveries to Metzl and other Balam. So Metzl taught Gagriel how to claim the next Rank of acceptance among the Bastet by entreating the spirits through proper obeisance and sacrifice. While at Metzl’s Den-Realm, Gagriel also entreatied the spirits to teach him more of their jungle secrets and magical favors. He wanted to be well-armed for his journey to America, for the spirit-tricks of nature worked anywhere, once a cat learned how to apply them.

Recent Years

After so long at Metzl’s home, he updated the older Balam on what was going on in his ambitions for the cartels. Metzl still seemed dubious and suggested that Gagriel come home as quick as he could. But Gagriel finally boarded a plane in La Paz, fake documents getting him past background checks. He knew the mafiosos in Kansas City were awaiting his visit. Gagriel soon landed in that Midwestern American city with one purpose. He would form new contacts with these mafiosos...for his ambitions, not his employer's. Castillo was finished. Soon Gagriel could return home glorious and terrible.

But first Gagriel had much networking to accomplish. He began with the LCN in Kansas City. There he met a refugee Balam Kin beauty who became his wife and the mother of his children. Taking Isabela, he finished his business in Missouri and traveled down south. The port of New Orleans offered more opportunities for a mastermind of organized crime. His role, and the spirits, eventually called him much farther south--to Puebla, Mexico.



Battle Scars


Class: Shallow
Description: One inch diameter hairless patch
Location: Back of skull
Origin: Sniper's bullet to the back of his head
Effects: none



Trinkets


Monkey Puzzle
Level: 4
Gnosis: 6
Origin: This piece of jewelry is an ancestral hand-me-down. Gagriel keeps it very close. It is centuries old but it's magic is still potent; the Fog-spirit stays loyal within the talisman.
Description: This is a small, thumb nail-sized piece of orange-red amber. Within a black human hair can be seen. It was inlaid in copper and a ring formed from that metal, so that it could be worn as a necklace. A leather thong keeps it around the wearer's neck.
Effects: 1) cause mortals to see Gagriel as Homid regardless of actual current form
Activation: Gagriel must wrap his fingers around the talisman, pray to his ancestors for guidance, and remember the days when the Olioiuqui walked the streets of ancient cities as gods.

Significant Other


This ambitious Jaguar came to Kansas City in 2004 to further his mob ties. He did not expect to find Kin or love. But he found both in Isabela Viracocha. Isabela was fleeing another cartel lord, rival to Gagriel's organization. Gagriel revealed their shared heritage to her, of which she was previously ignorant. Then he promised her protection and ended up delivering affection, too. Their romance deepened quickly -- indeed, she became pregnant. As both come from a deeply Catholic upbringing, Gagriel decided to marry his newfound mate. They wed on October 18th of that year. And two months later, on Christmas Day no less, Isabela gave birth to their beautiful daughter. Cinta Dominga Zeru was born with the blood of Balam in her veins, though not the gift of the Change. Still, it is the start of the Zerus' beautiful family together. In Mexico, Gagriel keeps his wife and child well-hidden in this spiteful, cowardly world that would strike those innocents from it given the chance.

Isabela

Weakness
Poisoned Beauty


The beauty of Gagriel's primal culture was poisoned by "Rotted Hearts'" greed and manipulation and land-razing. It turn, Gagriel has been poisoned. He hates the villainy so much he's lost all compunction to return it full circle. Of course, he would never stoop to say, slashing-and-burning the woodlands of the Midwest just because White Man did it to the Amazon. But he'll peddle their filthy drugs to them.

Likelihood of Corruption


High.

It doesn't matter if it's out of revenge or greed. He's a filthy drug-dealing scum like the Wyrmcomers he hates so much. He'd better start looking to his roots before he becomes as corrupt as the foreigners he despises so much.

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