#³3⊡‿⊡³ “gabriel alvaréz || the informant

[bloody-trio]

GENERAL HEADCANONS FOR THE BLOODY TRIO

Allan Crowell, the poet.

-Allan, like most children of hispanic parents, has a middle name and two last names, his full name is Allan Graham Crowell Ramírez.

-His father is English and his mother is Spanish, but being born and raised in Spain he is Spanish too.

-His Birthday is the 5th of January.

-He was a lonesome kid, not having many friends.

-Started writing poems at 10 years old, previously only writing short stories.

-Allan's a romatic, loves romanticism and romance histories.

-He has anxiety and has anxious attachment, leading him to seem clingy and overbearing, but really he's just scared that those who he loves will leave him.

-He loves red roses.

-Often falls asleep while working, a trait he shares with his best friend.

-He met Gabriel when he was 6, when he still went by his original name.

-He uses poems to express himself and his feelings, using them to vent.

-Allan fidgets a lot with his gloves when he's nervous, when he doesn't have them he picks at his fingernails, a bad habit from his childhood.

-He blushes very easily, not always because of romance but when he is embarrased, angry, cries, etc.

-He cares deeply for his loved ones, wanting to support them all he can.

John Doe, the hunted. TW! general gore warning, read w caution!

-Altough he's not the best at comforting, often just trying to reassure them if he doesn't end up crying with them.

-He's pan, don't know if I mentioned it before or i'm retconning something I said previously but, xD.

-He died in Madrid, Spain.

-He has 7 gun shots, but died from the one to the head.

-He was tortured for months before dying, his face was so bruised that authorities couldn't recognize him.

-When he was alive he used to straighhten his hair.

-He was engaged, he doesn't remember to who but does remember that "she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen."

-He loves music, the guitar beig his favorite, feeling as if he already knew how to play it.

-It's not really noticeable, but he has green eyes.

-He is a very bad hunter, often fumbling with his shotgun and opting to hit survivor with it instead of shooting them, he feels repulsed by the tought of pulling the trigger.

-He has a limp, due to his legs being so damaged it's difficult to stand straight.

-John's left arm is also not really stiff, not helping with the previous problem.

-His english isn't the best, greatly preffering to speak spanish, so when he does have to speak english he has an accent and is often very broken.

-He really appreciates those he calls friends, like Jane Doe and Giovanni, especially Giovanni.

-He's very sweet despite how he looks, wich leads to him being extremely insecure about his actual appearence,

-He loves tea and sweets, having a really sweet tooth.,

-He doesn't remember his birthday, so he decided for it to be in the date that's engraved in his engagement ring, 9th of April.

-He tries very hard to remember who he was, but it seems the harder he digs the more confusing it becomes, afterall he was shot in the head.

"Gabriel Álvarez", the informant.

-He smokes, not frequently but he does when he's stressed.

-Anna-Maria is his twin, she's older by a few minutes.

-He's lived and visited many countries, he was raised in Spain before moving back to Argentina where he was born.

-His mother's German while his father is Argentinian.

-Gabriel's is one of the many name's he's gone by.

-Gabriel's hair is dyed, being naturally blonde.

-He bruises very easily and get's beat up regularly in matches or by his sister.

-He's very cocky, loves to tease people and be and asshole but is also really pleasant to be around most if the time.

-He loves very deeply but feels as if he shouldn't, often distancing himself from those he cares about.

-But like Allan he's also really clingy when he can, a little possesive too.

-He can work himself around guns pretty well, knowing how to manage most of them.

-He doesn't really need glasses, mostly uses them because he thinks he looks hot.

-Gabriel cares a lot about his appearence, his tired, messy look often reserved to his closest peers.

-Is really good at drawing, loves to sketch buildings and people.

-Is very anxious and kind of paranoic, plays it off as just nerves from not sleeping well.

-Despite all the bickering, he really loves and cares for Anna, she's his sister above all things.

-His birthday is the 30th of August.

-He loves coffee, but he loves sugar more, puts life 10 spoonfulls in his coffee because he refuses to taste it in it's prime.

-Gabriel despite not being the tallest out there is actually quite strong, having to carry uhm, human sized bags.

-He's not of a much a romantic like Allan but he doesn enjoy courting his s/o, thinks it's necessary before the dating dating.

-He's bi, open to anyone who cares enough to make it past his persona.

[bloody-trio]

TW! BLOOD, DEATH THREATS, TALKS OF DEATH! DEATH!

The moon has set it, shining bright in the sky as the manor residents all slumber to prepare for another day of ruthless matches.

That's what the informant strived for, dragging his feet through the empty halls of the manor to make his way from his dear sisters room, he grunted. The corridor seemed so long to his sleep deprived eyes, fake glasses hanging from his shirt as he walked as slowly as possible to not make any sound.

That's when he heard something, a faint noise, something clicking and something sliding, weird, who's awake at this time? He knew of a few night owls but theyvwould stick to the library, the lounge room or maybe the kitchen, mayve even outside their rooms but here? No one should be here at this hour.

That's when he tought as a shadow loomed over him, only noticable because of the moonlight seeping from the open curtains as the only source of light, he turned around as he saw her, pale dead skin shining as those empty eyes glared at him with so much hatred he tensed up, heart almost stopping as Gabriel's mouth went agape at who was there.

What was a hunter doing here? Her of any of them? They never staid down for long, always coming back to haunt him. Ginger hair framed her figure, blood dripping from her missing arm and running down her missing leg, that same blue dress now stained with it.

"Mario Parker", Lisa spoke, a voice he once rememberd as soft and velvety now sour and raspy as she pronounced one of his many names, he just couldn't help but stare, he couldn't react and even if he could, what could he do?

Lisa Montag had alwaya been taller than him, even when alive but now? She stood a whole meter above him and he craned his neck up to meet her sunken eyes, gasping as she suddenly put her hand around his neck and holted him up into the air, now face to face with the one he killed.

"You bastard, look at what you've done to me." She spat, eyebrows furrowing in pure hate as she looked at him, gripping tighter.

"I trusted you, I trusted in you both! You stupid bitch! For what, why did you do it?! To get a bigger cut between you and your asshole sister? I WON THAT, IT WAS MINE! YOU DID SHIT, IT WAS ALL ME!" Laura now held him with her both "hands" the blood that formed her left one leaving a trail of blood running down his side, almost suffocating him even more.

"I—Lara'- Let me ex—" A squeeze to his neck "You knew to much—" More force came to him.

"And you decided killing me in cold blood was better than just stop being greedy and pay for silence? You knew I would accept, money is why I even let you into my life, Parker!" The hunter cried, anguish and despair in her voice.

"My hatred for you has bringed me back to life, you are lucky i'm not allowed to kill outside of this stupid games because if not i'd kill you here for everyone to see how stupif your limp body looks in the floor, you'd look pathetic just like you do now."

She spat, stopping the assault on his neck and dropping him to the floor beneath her, leaving the informants view black doted and gasping for air, before he could get back to breathing properly she stepped her pointed heel to his chest and pressed.

"I'll do it, don't you dare try and escape because I know you will, I know you better than anyone here. I'll follow you until you pay for what you did to me, for leaving me this" And with that, she dissapeared into what? He couldn't care less, he felt like he was about to pass out, and pass out he did, now laying bloodied on a hallway in this god-forsaken manor.

He did look pathetic.

[bloody-trio]

Well, idk Gabriel, i MIGHT be...Tell me, which information about her would you have? And might i know how you got that info? ^-^ dont worry, i will pay you for that!!!

³3⊡‿⊡³ "Well first of all what would you like to know? Can't just start spillin' information for fun, hm?"

"But as I see you are willing to pay...Well, the usual information an informant would have, personal, familiar, status before the manor, history. I know things about people here thay even they might not know like it's the case here, but who am I to judge this poor girl?"

[bloody-trio]

Hey Gabriel!! I heard there's this gal in the manor who thinks she is like, THE Marie Antoinette...Have you ever met her???

³3⊡‿⊡³ "Hmph, a girl who thinks she's the Marie Antoinette?"

Gabriel perks up from his desk, pushing up his glasses as he 'ponders' the question.

³3⊡‿⊡³ "Well, I haven't met her but that doesn't mean I don't know her." He smirks "Pray tell anon, are you in need of information about that subject, perhaps?"

[bloody-trio]

Typewriter

An Allan Crowell short story.

The soft clicks of the type writer were loud, a tad too loud for the redhead's liking.

There sat Allan Crowell, the Poet, eyes focused on the brand new typewriter his friend Nicolas had gifted him for his birthday and, even tough it had been a few days since he was gifted such an expensive and useful machine, he just couldn't bring himself to liking it.

Something about it was a little too mechanical, too souless for him, a man who would nothing less but his whole sould into his medium of art so he stayed still, looking at it's perfect letters and how it would -ding!- when finishing a sentence, analyzing every detail of the typewriter. It's not like he'd never seen one, his father kept one in his study, altough he was never allowed to touch it, let alone write so he mantained his distance so now having one himself just made him feel like his father, distant and cold and that was the least he wanted for his poems, to feel machine generated, too generic for what he was conveying, it just made him think of hid poems like writing something commercial, to sign and use as a contract with art and not bond with it.

Yet he couldn't help but keep it, surely he could just give it back but he would feel terrible, specially knowing that getting tjings like this was a massive luxury in the manor, he tought of gifting it but Gabriel finding out would break the blonde man's heart so he discarded the idea almost inmediately, with a sigh, Allan stood up from the hard wood chair provided for him by the manor and fell into his bed, running his usually gloved hands through his hair, messing up any attempt he did earlier to look more presentable throughout the day. He just layed there staring up at his ceiling as he slowly sat up on his bed, looking at the selfish machine, oh so eager go taje his job and he gave in. Walking over to the typewriter and beggining to press it's soft key caps.

After a couple hours of scrapped ideas, feelings and words, he finally left the table, a single piece of paper now infront of him as he read for noone but himself.

Cuántas veces, amor, te amé sin conocerte y tal vez sin quererte,

sin reconocer tu mirada, sin mirarte, centaura, en regiones contrarias, en un mediodía quemante:

eras sólo el aroma de los amores que amo, el mensaje aberrante de aquella paloma fue en vano

De ti estoy enamorado"

[bloody-trio]

"Allan porfavor, deja de andar como boludito entre las sombras y habla, no es que te vaya a morder. O puede que si, si andas de acos-"

"Joder, no te puedes quedar en silencio un rato, Nico? N-No lo acoso, solo lo admiro desde lejos...Y tampoco digas eso! Ahhhh, así dan menos ganas, gilipollas."

"Yo digo lo que quiero, te llevo escuchando hablar de este pelotudo hace como 3 semanas, ya no te soporto, con cariño."

[bloody-trio]

IDV WEDDING BALL OUTFITS 1/2

ROSES AND WINE FOR BLEEDING HEARTS

gabriel álvarez, going to the ball w lawrence cotas! -> @idv-askchaoticduo

"Roses and wine, the perfect combination for you to drown out your bleeding heart when you have to let the love die, at least one of you is happy, sadly it isn't you. At last roses and wine stay at heart while love dies fast."

[bloody-trio]

Te quiero mucho, mi cajero automático lindo 🥰🥰🥰🥰

³3⊡‿⊡³ "Maldita rata de alcantarilla cuanto quieres mi principe."

____

Stupid sewer rat how much you want my prince.

[bloody-trio]

Gabriel pass the mate, conchudo <3

³3⊡‿⊡³ "Aww, te daría, corazón pero por esa pesadez te quedas sin mate, soplapoll–"

[bloody-trio]

"Good morning!"

A little girl stands behind them, holding a large book close to her chest. Her bright blue eyes holding the sweet little innocence of an innocent child.

"I'm Caroline, and I'm new here! What's your name?"

(@askthemanorresidents)

The informant is startled at the voice of the girl, a light shudder going through his body as he turned around and faced the little girl looking up at him. A child he'd never seen around before, he sported a confused look on his face as he spoke in his friendly tone, trying to not scare the girl.

³3⊡‿⊡³ "Well good morning to you too, Caroline, welcome to the Oletus manor. My name is Gabriel Álvarez, may I know what you're doing here? It's not usual for kids to wander 'round here, are you lost, perhaps?."

He said, crouching down to eye level with her as he talked, still rather confused.

[bloody-trio]

What are your guy’s favourite pastries?

[⑇⑇ ●⌒●⁾⁾ "I...I- yo no eh comido ningún postre que yo recuerde...ósea, debí de haber comido en algún momento pero no lo recuerdo...Lo siento.."

(I...I- I haven't eaten any pastries that I remember...I mean, I must have eaten one but I don't remember...Sorry..)

³3⊡‿⊡³ "I love alfajores, they're like cookies squished between milk candy. My mom used to buy them for me when I was a teen, i've been craving them for a while but they're really hard to find around here... Maybe i'll have to try my hand at cooking once I finish my paperwork."

🖋⊂(•́ _ •̀⊂ "Uhm, I really enjoy apple tart, they're my favourite to eat while writing, their sweetness feeds into the romanticism in my works..."

[bloody-trio]

IDV WEDDING BALL STATUS!

everyone thank klai for feeding us w this events🙏🙏🙏

GABRIEL ÁLVAREZ 💐 going w 👤lawrence cotas

ALLAN CROWELL 💐 going w 👤leroy smith

JOHN DOE 💐 going w 🧟‍♀️ jane doe JWVWYAJSJSJ💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

@idv-ask-the-showman for more wedding ball information!

[bloody-trio]

Gabriel, Si la belleza fuera un delito, te hubiesen dado cadena perpetua. ---------- Gabriel, if beauty were a crime, they would have given you life imprisonment.

³3⊡‿⊡³ "Aww, eso es muy tierno, guapo~ pero desgraciadamente ya estoy en la carcél por varios crimenes— y salté del anónimo Lawrence ya se que eres tu, come vergas."

³3⊡‿⊡³ "Si me sacas te doy un besito—"

——

"Aww, that's sweet, handsome~ But unfortunately i'm already in jail for various crimes — and get off anon, Lawrence I already know that's you, motherfucker."

[bloody-trio]

"Gabrieeeel, mi corazón de melon, mi rubio lindo. No me prestas plata?~"

"A cambio te doy lo que quieras de mi" 💔

-----

"Gabrieeeel, my sweetheart, my cute blondie. Could you lend me some money?~"

"In exchange I'll give you anything you wish from me" 💔

Gabriel perks up from his slouched position on his desk, turning around and smiling as he saw Lawrence. Gesturing for him to come over as he ended the call he was in with a "Ya ya, sush, te hablo después Anna." Protests could be heard but he payed no mind and turned his attention to his beloved.

³3⊡‿⊡³ "Ah...Mi pelotudo favorito, como esta mi amor? Tsss, ya andas otra véz de necesitado?"

Gabriel let's out a jokey laugh before yawning and patting his tigh as he was motioning Law to sit.

³3⊡‿⊡³ "Ven va? Quedate mientras termino esto, no me demoró y luego vamos a buscar algo de comer, te doy lo demás después."

//grrr sorry everyeone im too lazy to translate😞😞😞

[bloody-trio]

A MAN OF MANY FACES

"How much names does an inexistant man have? And how much of a bad memory must these decaying corpses have to not even know wheter they're in heaven or hell? Guess they'll never tell, afterall the diseased and dissapeared don't speak of falsificated names."

"GABRIEL ALVARÉZ"'S SHORT STORY & DEDUCTIONS COMING 31 - 8 - 23, STAY TUNED!

[bloody-trio]

Do you dream? If you do, what is it like?

Gabriel's usual smile falters a little, he runs a hand through his hair as he explains.

"I don't dream, a man like me cannot give himself the pleasure of having peace, even in my sleep I can´t let myself rest. It's the least I deserve for all the things i've done, anyways!- Enough about me, shall we go for a cup of coofee?"

John Doe tilts his head as he squints his eyes, trying to remember and dig through what remains if his brain for answers.

"Uuh, dreams...? I don't...know if I could call them that, I like to think they're memories...even if they're not good ones. They're about me, at least he looks like me..and he- me gets-" The hunted gulps "I get, hurt in various ways..and they match with these." He says, gesturing at the various wounds around his body. "Ma...Mat.....Fernandéz..."

Allan puts a hand to his chin, thinking before snapping his fingers and smiling at the anon. "Ahh, dreams! An essential part for me as a poet, they help me get a more clear vision of my feelings wich help me put them into the words I can't speak..."