Happy Valentine's day from Alex Meraz ❤️
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@cruzosorio
Happy Valentine's day from Alex Meraz ❤️

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Carve, don’t!
who: @cruzosorio where: Training room
"Jinx, you owe me a soda or a beer." They had a simple life when they weren't out killing monsters or hunting things, they could normally be found at Killjoy's passing the hours. When Violet wasn't behind the bar, she was normally sitting barside draining the kegs that she would have to change of all their beer. She could shoot a mean game of pool and she liked being surrounded by her own type of people, the supernaturals that roamed Rome were plentiful and all capable of terrible things. The word that they spoke in unison was again, again they would train and go for another round. It didn't matter that they couldn't die, they still couldn't afford to let the monster get away to steal another life. She got into defensive position on the mat, waiting for his offensive swing.
He shouldn't have latched onto the friendship like he did. Cruz was used to pushing people away or keeping them at arm's length. He'd suffered loss before and that meant that it could happen again. As much as Violet could get back up after death, that didn't mean she was entirely incapable. Old age would come for them both eventually. He just hoped that he was going to be the one to go first if that was the case. Or was that even how this whole thing worked? Maybe they'd both live past 100. Nevertheless, the other Darkfriend was like a sister to her. It wasn't exactly what he had been looking for, but he was happy about it all the same. Once she got into her defensive position, he held the blade in his hand up towards her. "I only have beer so you'll have to deal with that," he stated as he charged at her.
who? @cruzosorio where? a few streets away from killjoys
"Hey, motherfucker. You owe me a drink. Or seventeen." Slowly, she lowers the megaphone from her mouth and she sends the hunter a cheery grin, her free hand raising as she waves at him cheekily. Had she been carrying the megaphone everywhere just for this? Yeah. Had Chrysaor looked at her weird for it? Yes, but he has magic power screams that kill people and regularly fucks with the demon equivalent of a feral labrator so who is he to judge where she finds her amusement. "Maybe by the time we drink the third, you will find some morals! You seem to have dropped all of them!"
It wasn't like he could really tell what she was, but he knew that she was supernatural in nature. Nowadays, that was all that really mattered to Cruz. If they were supernatural, they were on his very lengthy list. Well, not everyone, but most of them. Still, he really hadn't expected her to get back up and for him to kill her again and for her to show up once again. Maybe he would try it one more time and hopefully it would stick. The last thing he expected though was for her to be yelling at him in the street with a megaphone so damn close to Killjoys. Maybe supernatural creatures were just getting fucking stupid these days. "I'm trying to figure out why I would owe you a drink if all I've done is kill you on every meeting. Did you lose a few braincells on your trip back to the land of the living?"
"It's fuckin' rude to come over, invited, and not bring beer," I mean it'd always been an icebreaker or a salve; Wade was hardly a man of many words and these darkfriends he'd have to become accustomed to were hardly proficient with them either. Cruz, at least, he'd known from The Eye; brief stints of working alongside each other on missives to catch supernaturals for their experiments. Wade had found their new crusade was bullshit; the world had dissolved into rampant chaos, and pretending that it was suddenly all sunshine and flowers and that killing was outlawed wouldn't change a damn thing about the evils that lurked. The cardboard container of beer was unceremoniously placed upon the coffee table before he sat back and made himself comfortable. Wade often grifted from one house to the next, he'd seen plenty disheveled homes and lackluster apartments in his life; Cruz and Bishop's home was likely horrifying to some, but it was just fine to the Archer. "This isn't gonna be some weird initiation thing, right?" He'd already gone through that with Bishop hovering over him when the initial moment happened.
"Well, I sure as fuck wouldn't have done the same. Then again, I'm not some southern gentleman like you." It was partially a joke. Sort of, he guessed. Cruz had never been good at those unless it was trying to cheer his sister up when they had to find some dirt to sleep in for the night. His singing voice had been absolutely atrocious, she'd always told him. Maybe he should've done that to get people to take him less seriously. Actually, he didn't want to get along with people so he was going to bypass that thought entirely. The point now was that Wade had brought beer and somehow the two of them were decent enough friends for him to not want to stab the other in the neck like he always wanted to with Bishop. "Why would it be an initiation? It's your ass if you fuck up, not mine." Cruz also wasn't the type to hover so he wouldn't if Wade didn't explicitly ask him to do so.

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She enjoyed their little get togethers, dates, if you will. At least Dulce wanted to believe they were. The Darkfriend was exciting and similar-minded, thrilling and delicious, the vampire considered herself lucky to have him by her side right now, healthy and ready. Depraved and gluttonous, the vampire enjoyed the relentless hunt for the sake of entertainment. A laugh echoed through the woods. "I'll give you the honors," they still had to abide by Senate rules, technically, but maybe they'd get away with this, just this once. Feeling his slap and tight grab on her ass, the vampire stifled a moan before grabbing his bulge, her tongue demonstratively licking over the edge of her upper lip. "Mhh," Dulce agreed, but she could barely focus on the hunt right now. Yet, her body instinctively moved out of his grip and further towards the running halflbood to which she quickly caught up to. Grabbing the man, fangs bore deep into his flesh. A Cambion. She immediately stopped to not harm him too much. Instead, the baby vamp kept him in place for her Darkfriend. "Gotcha," she giggled, "so, what will it be, babe?"
Cruz wasn't much of a talker. Really, he could go hours spending time with someone and not saying a single word. Of course that probably didn't help with the relationships he made in his life, but that didn't bother him much. He wasn't looking for anyone to keep him company. The fact that he had a roommate was plenty at the moment. And he found Bishop to be insufferable half the time. Not that that changed anything. They were still living together and he didn't really plan on moving out. The other Darkfriend was a good sport about his anger so, honestly, it was the best he was going to get. Still, he was very much surprised that Dulce wanted to even be around him. Then again, maybe he shouldn't have been. She'd given him a blowjob on their first meeting and now she had a very tight grip on the bulge in his pants. Yeah, he really wasn't all that surprised as they finally landed upon the cambion. Nobody would miss him. There was fear in the man's eyes that Cruz certainly reveled in. Good. He loved to see these supernatural beings scared. "Has anyone told you that you play with your food too much? Or not yet?" He moved closer, his gaze glancing quickly at the scales that had formed on his hand before he ran the blade across the cambion's neck. As the halfblood crumbled to the floor, he let out a breath and his shoulders lifted into a shrug. "That could've been more exciting."
Cruz had a point, his temperament was kind of hilarious but the two of them were cut from the same cloth in that respect. "Relax man, I'm good for it." Even as he said this though Bishop couldn't help the shit eating grin that spread on his lips. He put his attention back towards what he'd been doing before Cruz went all fucking Patrick Bateman on him. Packing shells to load into the ass of some supernatural fuck; there were a lot of them here, big fish too. Lycans, witches, vampires, druids, fey- these things were small fry, worth killing sure but they weren't nearly as satisfying as the bigger things out there.
"No you're not. You're never good for it. At all." Maybe he shouldn't have been so angry about his beer being lost to him, but also Bishop was annoying. How else was he supposed to deal with his annoying roommate other than killing him now? He'd get back up. It was perfectly fine now. Well, he guessed he wouldn't want the same to be happening to him so maybe he shouldn't have made it a habit. Bishop always gave him that annoying ass grin every time though so it only helped to go against that thought every single time. He moved to lean against the wall, the knife being placed back at his side. "Plan on hunting today?"
@cruzosorio
Let's goooo! Alex Meraz lifting on his Instagram story 12-27-2023
cruz osorio | saturnalia
And what's the worst you take From every heart you break? And like the blade you'll stain Well, I've been holding on tonight

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closed starter for @wadecalhoun location: cruz and bishop's place note: they rly shouldn't be inviting anyone here
It had not been long since he'd seen Wade, but it had been a little bit of time. The two of them had definitely changed since that war. Thankfully, there were people for Cruz to know in this new life of his. Otherwise it was bound to be confusing to adapt to. Well, he guessed confusing wasn't the right word. It was pretty straightforward. Kill or be killed. Supernatural beings didn't deserve their place in this world. Most of them were selfish and there had only ever been one that he cared for in the slightest. That was only because she had been there before he had even known what being supernatural was. The Eye had shaped him into more of a hateful creature than he already was. The Brotherhood simply amplified it. Cruz was used to it though. He was used to a life that would never really be his own where he had to fight every day. He was okay with that though. He'd grown to be okay with that. Yet the anger still boiled within him every day. Nobody knew that more than his roommates and all the other hunters he'd met at the Eye. The closest friend he had was Wade and that wasn't even saying much because he never really treated anyone he considered a friend like a friend. Nevertheless, he'd still invited the other over. "I hope you brought beer because Bishop drank the rest of mine again."
@cruzosorio location: crappy apartment, armoury featuring a workbench notes: shithead was recently killed by his roommate
The workbench was where Bishop caste most of the ammo he used, he wasn't sure when he'd started but just as sure as salmon made roe the hunter had always made weapons. Used to be that his old man would bark at him from behind, freak the fuck out if Bishop did something wrong or if he wasn't paying attention to what he was doing. Store bought bullets could be traced and they were pretty much useless against most supernaturals, rounds laced with aconite, vampire blood, iron, wood - the list went on. Ghoul's blood was the most rare, not impossible to get though. He'd been holding his press down when suddenly he was on the ground.
There was nothing, black infinity and then Bishop was back. He coughed up bits of blood that had pooled in his throat as he pulled the knife out of his throat that Cruz had shoved in there. "Alright fuck, I'm sorry I drank your last beer." So fucking temperamental; at least Bishop always came back, maybe one of these days he wouldn't though, what then? Some fucking Brotherhood. He stood up as the wound healed and the hunter went to sit back down, wiping at the blood on the table with his sleeve. "I won't do it again." That was a lie, but what else were friends for.
If there was one thing to know about Cruz, it was that he suffered from quite a few anger issues. He wasn't sure if that was an inherited trait, but he genuinely hated everything about it. That didn't stop him from having blackouts or just feeling that anger bubbling up from the most minuscule things. The problem right now was that Bishop knew damn well what could set him off and still did it. They had lived together long enough for them to be crystal clear about certain things. Point in case: don't drink his last beer. Now that he knew the other would get back up, he didn't mind killing the man at any given opportunity for the slightest of inconveniences. This time, it was a knife that he shoved deep into the other hunter's neck. And then he was back and Cruz was standing there with his arms folded. "I'm starting to think you just do shit to piss me off." He paused. "And you're a fucking liar." He picked up the knife and cleaned the blood off on the shirt he was wearing. "You owe me an entire new pack."
closed starter for @cruzosorio location: within the woods
A halfblood, of course. As skin broke Dulce took up the chase, carelessly running through the woods, a lighthearted giggle escaping her. Of course they all had rights, but this was personal. "Come on you're so slow and he smells so delicious. Not as delicious as you, of course," the vampire looked back to face Cruz, her lower lip caught between her teeth. "I knew you'd be fun the moment you stumbled into my home all sick and ready to just kill me." Twisted, that's what this was, but Dulce had never shied away from a real challenge. Cruz resembled exactly that. "Why do you need him, anyway? I thought we could just spend the day together. Just the two of us?"
It wasn't often that Cruz had people hunting with him. Really, he only bothered when he felt like it was necessary. Otherwise, he was on his own. It probably wasn't a safe tactic, but he'd been surviving for most of his life now. Hunting was no different. To be honest, it had always felt like what he was supposed to do with his life. After Ximena, it felt even more necessary. Lycans were always his meal of choice, but he'd take what he could get now. One life for the Brotherhood, one less death for him. How he had let Dulce be involved with this was a mystery. She was messy. She grated on his nerves. Yet he still wanted to be around her. Maybe it was a compliment that she loved his blood so much. Nevertheless, he crouched down to the floor to analyze his surroundings. "Don't worry about why I need him. You want his blood. I want to kill him." He lifted up to a standing position. The chase was always the best part. Walking towards her, his hand moved to slap her ass before gripping it, mouth moving to her ear. "Less talking, more hunting," was all he said as he let go and walked in the direction the halfblood had gone in.
Alex Meraz lifting weights 2023
the tracker~
NAME. UTP AGE & BIRTH DATE. 25+ SPECIES. Human ( Darkfriend ) OCCUPATION. UTP
A pseudo parent far too young, you did what you had to do in order to get your sister out of the pit where the two of you were raised. The two of you were a unit of your own, a reinforced team of two, it was you and her against the world. The Eye saw a pair of siblings with a chip on their shoulders and turned you into a set of soldiers. A hunter’s life was often brief and violent, you were the older brother and it should have been you that paid the price but instead the sister you loved was torn apart by a pack of the very same beasts you were trained to hunt. Hardened, bitter, and trained to kill; The Eye might have been ready to move on and put the past behind them, but you never did. Dead on the floor, that should have been the end of you, but instead another came to you. Something dark that spoke to the hatred in your heart, He found you and laid a hand upon your soul so you could rise again: Darkfriend, your hunt continued.
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NAME. Santino Evangelista AGE & BIRTH DATE. 34 & December 1st, 1989 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Human ( Darkfriend ) OCCUPATION. Hunter FACE CLAIM. Alex Meraz
biography
( trigger warnings: parental abuse ) Cruz was the firstborn of two on a reservation in Mexico. His childhood had always felt insignificant to him, but the one his sister, Ximena, had mattered the most. The people around him were some of the best people he knew and he had always trusted them to watch over his sister without question. It hadn’t started early in his life, but his teenage years were some of the worst he could’ve had. He wasn’t even sure what had changed within his parents. Regardless of what it was, those people that watched his sister had come in handy. While she played with her friends, Cruz was getting whatever anger his parents felt taken out on him. It had all happened behind closed doors with nobody else on the reservation being none the wiser. If someone asked about a bruise, he would shrug it off and pretend he had gotten hurt playing. It was a vicious cycle where he tried to get his sister out of their home before he felt their anger really come to fruition.
It had been one day when he was sixteen where he had truly felt that it was his last straw. He had nowhere to go, but he knew he had to get him and his sister out of there. His father had lifted a hand towards Ximena and Cruz had been able to fight him off enough for him to grab his sister and leave. There were no words thrown to anyone as he had picked her up and ran through the reservation and away from the home that they had grown up in. Sixteen. That was how old he was when he ran away from home. His sister had only been ten years old and, even then, he knew her life was so much more important than his could ever be. If he couldn’t have a good life, he could only hope that she would be able to for his sake. That was all he could ever want and he made sure that he did everything he could so that it could actually come to fruition. Being a runaway was not easy for him or her though. It felt like there was a question every day as he tried to scrounge up money any way he could.
"Where are we going, Cruz?”
“I don’t know, Ximena.”
He never knew how to answer any of her questions. Cruz was desperate to get them overseas and then they would figure out a plan from there. Petty crimes would mean nothing to him as long as his sister was safe. That was all that had ever mattered to him. Anger always seemed to get the best of him though. Anyone ever looked at Ximena a certain way and it was always a problem. His sister hadn’t noticed it firsthand for a long time and he didn’t want her to know because he didn’t want to be a reminder of his parents. So he hid it as well as he could for as long as he could. The only thing that really took his thoughts of it was making sure he had money to take care of Ximena. They would’ve needed a miracle to get out of there though. And a miracle was what they had seemingly gotten. Unbeknownst to him at the time, it was a demon that had helped them get out of Mexico and to a new home in Rome. She had felt like a ghost at the time. She had helped them just enough to get to where they needed to go, but he had lost connection very quickly after that. It was something that stayed in his head for a long time, but he couldn’t focus on that. He had to make sure they found a home and a place to be safe.
Once they landed in Rome, he was back to petty crimes to make ends meet. A job wasn’t in the cards for him quite yet. He was only eighteen and he had a pseudo-kid with him that was only twelve years old. Cruz always felt bad that his sister hadn’t even been a teenager before he dragged her into this life. It stayed in the back of his mind like everything else did though. He could only hope that he was able to support Ximena the best that he could. In that same breath, it had felt like Rome was both a godsend and a curse. That anger that he had tried so hard to hide from his sister had reared its ugly head while they were at a gas station getting food for the night. She had been standing outside and someone had started messing with her. As soon as Cruz saw that hand rest on his sister’s shoulder, he was convinced he had blacked out. One second, he was in the store and then, in the next, he was outside beating the person’s face in. The only thing that had pulled him out of it was the sound of his sister’s scream.
"Cruz, stop!”
It had only taken him a few seconds to realize what had happened. His widened eyes had met his sister’s own scared ones as her hands rested on his face trying to pull him back together.
"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
It was the one thing he had never wanted her to see and, before he knew it, he was being put in cuffs and brought into custody. They had brought Ximena, but he had lost track of her somewhere. She was only twelve. He could only hope that he got out of here and they were both able to be safe again. But then he thought maybe she would be better off without him. It was a thought that stayed in the back of his head for only a moment as he stared at the table in front of him. The person’s voice that had been in the room with him sounded muffled until they said her name. Ximena. His head had snapped up at the sound of her name as he listened to why it had been said in the first place. These people weren’t the police. He could make that deduction easily. It was then that he learned of both the Eye and the supernatural. All of those stories that had been told by the elders on the reservation felt like just stories that they told to kids as a cautionary tale so often that Cruz hadn’t believed any of them. But they were all real and the offer was clear to him. The answer was even clearer. Join the Eye, be trained by them, fight for them and they would take in both his sister and him. They would be safe and protected. It was an easy solution for his sister’s safety.
When he was able to go back to Ximena, they had hugged for so long that it felt like they had been separated for years. But they would never be separated now. They had security and protection that they had never had before. The Eye had given them that.
Training with the Eye had felt as easy as breathing for the both of them. He didn’t mind that his sister was brought into the fold because it was best that she be able to protect herself, be able to protect those that couldn’t protect themselves, too. Cruz had found it so easy to train with Ximena and he was sure that this was the first time either of them had truly ever been happy. All good things always came to an end though. Everything good in his life was always his sister. She was a light that he had not ever taken for granted. Twenty-two. Sixteen. Ximena had been sixteen when that very light that he had treasured above all else had been snuffed out. An out of control lycan had done more than take a bite out of her. Mauled and left as nothing more than a bloodied body, all that was good in the world for him had been snuffed out just like his sister’s life.
So he had become vengeful. He had become cold and he had become angry. Angrier than he had usually been because that was all that he felt he had left. Years and years of anger and he had never been able to recover from the loss of his sister. It took a hold of his very being to where he put everything he had into hunting down every species he could get his hands on. Anger was what fueled him now more than ever and it only made him angrier because that one emotion made him more like his parents than he ever wanted to be.
Eventually, death came knocking at his door though. Or what he had assumed was death. No matter what it was, that voice had given him a choice to be more than he had been, more than the Eye had made of him. Hunt. Kill. It was what he was doing already, but there was the one perk that came with it all. Undying. When he awoke, his head was firmly back on his shoulders and he had looked down at his hand to the scaling on it. Anger still flowed through his veins, but now it was replaced with even more of a desire to kill those supernatural beings that thought themselves better than others. Now he could have the strength to be unstoppable. And if he died? Well, he'd come back and try again. It was much more than his sister ever got and he would make sure Ximena still lived on through him. No matter the cost.
personality
+ adaptable, protective, perceptive - vengeful, temperamental, withdrawn
played by kenyer. est. she/her.
Four years today since I started this account and what better way to celebrate than watching Alex lift?? 💪🏻