jeremy-matiu-blog

[jeremy-matiu-blog]

furics

the bulgarian simply stares back at the man, blinking a few times as if she hoped that when she opened her eyes he’d be gone. Alas, when she opened her eyes the last time, he was still there in all his annoying glory. Forcing a smile onto her face, Mila leaned on the bar, sliding the list towards him once more. “I’m thinking a big guy like you can surely read, so how about you quit riding me and you pick a drink before I have to ask you to leave?”

All the humour drains from his face. Voice deadly serious, as though she’d hit a sore spot, “I’m dyslexic.” The moroseness of his tone and well practiced deadpan is damn convincing, even as he’s still happily messing with her.

[jeremy-matiu-blog]

furics

she returned his expression, taking a deep breath before she rattled off every item on the list– again. Once finished, the small brunette crossed her arms across her delicate frame and held her chin high. “How ‘bout I just get you a scotch? Hmm?” What was it with her customers today and their lack of decision making skills?

Scotch, whiskey, tequila -- any amber liquid that’s strong would do him good but, well, he’s enjoying watching the bar keep get worked up. It’s the simple things in life. “A scotch?” he pretends to mull the idea over. Not today, he decides.

Shaking his head, he continues, “That list was so long and you spoke so fast I think I’ll need you to run it by me again.”

[jeremy-matiu-blog]

calliesend:

Green hues wondered over the other figure suspiciously. it wasn’t an intentional action, force of habit rather. she still hadn’t met everyone of New Seattle just yet and this unfamiliar figure didn’t seem to want to go away. She couldn’t really recognise them – someone from the club she danced at perhaps? A council member? “It’s fucking rude to stare.” Out come the sharp teeth of defence already. “You’re making me late for work.”

“Since when did staring stop your feet from working?” Jeremy replies, looking up to the woman’s face. He was very much staring but that’s neither here nor there, “I could make you later for work if you really want me to.”

[jeremy-matiu-blog]

furics

– hands planted flat against the wooden bar top, the bartender looked back at the patron, brow raised and stare questioning. it was the end of her shift, she had a kid to get home to, and shit to do. “Do you really want me to list all the alcohol we currently serve or can you just read it all off the list and save me my breath?”

“Are you going to make me ask twice, hm?” Jeremy deadpans back, tempted to lean in close and really ham up his words to sound like a very real threat rather than what it really is: Jer fuckin’ round. There’s no need for that, he simply frowns and watches her expectantly.

[jeremy-matiu-blog]

—DETAILS 

Full Name: Jeremy Wiremu Matiu

D.O.B: 13 November 2098

Gender: Cis-Male, he/him

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Occupation: Cop, Death-Dealer.

Immunity Status: Unknown

—SUMMARY

JEREMY MATIU found his true calling in bloodshed.  He’s the right-hand man to Wolfgang both as a partner during their day job and their bloodier, more violent true-calling as Death Dealers. Growing up in New Seattle, he always fancied he’d have preferred the world without the protective walls, with less care for human life beyond his own and those he cares about. The infected or those who carry it are already dead in Jeremy’s eyes, nothing but scum to be put down so future generations don’t have to live in this world. Although, Jeremy’s happy to occupy it just how it is. Simply put: the man’s a monster -- but -- he’s a happy and well-paid one.

—FULL BIOGRAPHY              ( death, blood + guts tw )

JEREMY GREW up in Seattle, born at home to his mother Augustine Wiremu, a distraught widow, who sadly passed after his birth. Jeremy was raised by his only surviving relative, a rather miserable paternal Grandfather Matiu who left the boy largely to his own devices. The old man had been through hell, arriving when New Seattle was just a shitty little camping ground rather than the city it is today. The Matiu’s had given up, mostly. They would’ve been best classed as living in poverty as far as this new re-built world was going. His grandfather just curled up in the corner of their apartment, waiting to die, while Jeremy was left to fend for himself. Other’s would grow bitter at such a childhood but Jeremy proudly claims it as what made him the man he is today.                 ( The part he neglects to tell most people is his first close-range kill was at age fifteen, Grandfather Matiu had finally given up on life. Slumped in his chair, he re-animated as one of the infected. It was so easy, so satisfying, for Jeremy to plunge the knife into the old man’s temple. )

He worked hard, scrounged up a way to survive anyway he could. The gangly boy befriend what has now become a lifelong friend in Wolfgang West. Since they first met, Jeremy’s always been at his side, finding a kindred spirit in the other man. A bond and similarities which only grew as both men got older.  

It was no surprise when they boy ended up becoming police officers. Being able to carry a gun, a position above others and a need to be happy to have more than few enemies meant they were practically born for it. While Jeremy could’ve been a leader himself with his dedication, having someone to answer too tempers back his more violent and sadistic urges. ( Even if a lot of the time Wolf doesn’t help at all. ) Things became much easier when they both become not only cops together but Death Dealers together. 

—PERSONALITY

+ determined, passionate, methodical, intelligent, loyal. - sadistic, violent, blunt, ruthless, headstrong.

[jeremy-matiu-blog]

“It is a condition of monsters             that they do not perceive themselves as such.                      The dragon  hunkered in the village devouring maidens,                                                                       heard the townsfolk cry ‘Monster!’                                                                                                 and looked behind him.”

[jeremy-matiu-blog]

terrible things