Gabe Augustana
Amateur Competitor
member is offline
![[avatar]](http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff94/Sylar8mybrain/1014_02.jpg)
Joined: Aug 2007
Gender: Male 
Posts: 1
|  | Gabe Augustana - Staff Member
« Thread Started on Sept 2, 2007, 12:52pm » | |
![[image]](http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff94/Sylar8mybrain/Gabe1.jpg)
Full Name: Gabriel Augustana
Nicknames: Gabe
Birthday and Age: December 17, 1974: Age 32
Birthplace: Malvern, Pennsylvania
Family: Gabe has severed ties with his family long ago because of who he is and what he does, though they didn't complain about this decision. He was too far gone at that point and time for them to help him, and really, the less they know about where he is and what he's doing, the better.
Played By: Molly
Physical Appearance: Gabe had once had one of his partners tell him, while they'd been crouching in the shadows of another random pier, that he'd never met anyone whose face quite matched the madness within like Gabriel's did. Gabe had told him to shut his goddamn trap before Gabe put his fist through his skull, but really, he was completely right, and there are times still even as a mature adult when Gabe just wishes that he doesn't look so damn sketchy! He's all hard lines and frigid eyes and dark hair, and he gets stopped on suspicion all the time. Except with him, suspicion usually leads to something more, which is the main problem with that.
Really though, if you just disregard the creepiness, Gabe is the typical tall, dark, and handsome man. He stands at around 6'0", dresses sharply, and takes pride in his physique when at all possible (metrosexual, anyone?), though at times with his line of business, going grunge is the only option.
History: (Gabe has a very convoluted past, all of which is known by him and him alone. However, below is the entirety of the information so everyone can get to know him.  )
Gabe was born as the second of three children to a happy, loving, middle-class family. He had a relatively normal childhood and spent most of his adolescence in school, with friends, or at the barn. Though not a competitor or really much of a rider, Gabe was very comfortable around horses and in his high school years (and with some prodding from horse enthused friends) he took paying jobs at various stables in the vicinity, much preferring to earn his spending money as a groom rather than having to flip hamburgers at McDonalds. However, it was at one of these stables that Gabe met Mark, and the downward spiral began.
Gabe was eighteen at the time, a month away from graduating high school and with no real plan for his life. Mark was a bookie who worked mainly out of Saratoga and who, on one of Gabe's four day weekends, put two needles and a bottle of Pyrilamine in Gabe's hand with orders to administer it illegally to two horses on the Saratoga racetrack, effectively disqualifying them from the race the following day. Gabe was shaking as he drove to the racetrack and snuck past security and officials, grooms and watches – and he'd wonder later, once he knew more about the business and how monumentally dangerous these sort of jobs were and how skilled most of the guys were who already worked the scene, why Mark had asked little inexperienced eighteen-year-old Gabe to do this: had he done something to piss Mark off? Or had he maybe inadvertently and without even knowing found out too much about business Mark was conducting?
Or maybe Mark just had an eye for future conmen; after all, Gabe had gotten into Saragota, drugged the two horses, and gotten out, all without a hitch. The next day, the Pyrilamine showed in the horses' drug tests, effectively disqualifying them from their respective races, and the next time Gabe saw Mark, the man put $500 in Gabe's hand. More than impressed with the payoff, Gabe continued doing similar jobs for Mark at Saratoga and other smaller tracks and showgrounds after he graduated high school and started at a local community college. Working with Mark, he met other people like Mark and other people like himself, and he eventually picked up more jobs and wove himself deeper into the scene.
The first time he killed a horse, it was an accident. Or at least he had thought it was. He was twenty-one year old and on an assignment from one of the other bookies he'd met. Fill the horse full of this barbiturate, the guy had said, handing Gabe a bottle of medication and a few needles. He'd neglected to mention the fact that he wanted the horse euthanized in the process, and Gabe really didn't know that much about drugs at this point, he just did what he was told. When the horse had collapsed into the bedding a few seconds after Gabe had pulled away, while Gabe was preparing to climb back out of the stall window, he'd practically had a heart attack. Forgetting who he was and why he was there, he'd rushed back down to the horse trying to pull it back up, making quite a bit of unnecessary noise in the process. A couple of grooms came running, and for the first time, he was spotted on the job. He managed to get away, but was quite shaken up and, if the truth be told, for the first and the only time, he stopped and he assessed the situation.
He told his parents what he was doing after that - because even after three years, a drastic change in lifestyle and friends, and a rapid increase in income with no discernable job, they had no idea that he was involved in any sort of organized crime – and they all but begged him to stop, to move back home from his apartment, offering him help and support and anything he needed to get out of the dangerous cycle. Had they made this plea when he was eighteen or nineteen, or even twenty, he most likely would have taken them up on it. Against popular opinion, Gabe Augustana is not a sick and twisted bastard by nature. No, life has simply made him this way. However, at twenty-one, he felt too trapped in his own circle too get out. After all, he was Gabe. He was quick, agile, able to handle the horses that no one else could and able to not only get out alive but undetected as well. People knew about him, and he couldn't just disappear. It wasn't an option. He didn't have options anymore.
The first time he killed someone, it was not an accident. He pointed the gun right between their eyes and fired, and then thought, "I am twenty-three years old, and I just killed someone." He didn't really start feeling sick until he helped his partner dump the body over the bridge and into the lake below, though. Still, the whole thing had went off without a hitch, unless you wanted to count the dead body, though unless the dead body was one of their own guys Gabe really didn't, and he went back to the makeshift headquarters practically unfazed. He'd moved out to Jersey with one of his friends from Saratoga some two weeks before this incident to join an organized crime ring – some guy bringing in illegal merch from Canada – and he and Gabe were basically going to be some more of the lucky slubs getting to count boxes on the pier at night. Quiet, easy money while racing was slow, they figured, which it was at first. They couldn't figure out for the life of them why they were ordered to carry weapons out with them until two weeks in a couple of guys came out of nowhere and started firing at them. One guy ran but they got the other guy cornered with Gabe's gun to his head and got all the information off of him they could before doing what had to be done. What Gabe had been told had to be done if something like this ever happened.
It happened several more times after that. Gabe lost count after a while. At the end of it all, Gabe's friend headed back to Saratoga, scarred for life. Gabe stayed in Jersey, a sadistic gleam in his eye. The guy running the organization said he liked having him around. Said he was just ruthless enough to get shit done.
He stayed in Jersey for a few years before it slowly collapsed, after which he followed some of the guys from Jersey up to New York to a French-based ring up there that they were all excited about. Supposedly very lucrative and secure, dealing in illegal merch and scamming, family by the name of Corentin, apparently bigwigs. He got involved like any newbie would, running tracks and counting boxes, except there was one major problem. He would soon come to the conclusion that New York was just not his city.
He was working with a partner, as most rings tended to do, another newbie like himself, except apparently this guy was an undercover police officer with intentions of finding out information on the ring and breaking it up. Gabe found himself in jail after about a month on the job, wondering over his crappy luck, though unbelievably Dorianne Corentin herself waltzed in to his rescue after about two days. How she had found out so quickly, or why she even cared seeing as he was still the low man on the totem pole, he didn't know, but he walked out of jail right behind her. She certainly had the gift of gab, or a lot a political power, or a lot of money, or probably all three, really.
She flew him out to France with her, seeing as the NYCPD were now watching for his face, and she employed him in France as a random conman doing odd jobs. He spent nearly six years in France before moving back to NYC, and really, he should have known that that was a bad decision.
He was in NYC with a couple of partners on an assignment when the ring suddenly collapsed. They were in a back alley, waiting for one of the others guys to show up with the money, but instead they got two cop cars full of police officers. It was mass chaos instantaneously, with Gabe and his partners immediately drawing their guns and firing while they ran and dove for cover and an exit at the same time. The police, outnumbering Gabe and his guys almost three to one, were swarming and firing, and Gabe got shot twice, once in the stomach and once in the shoulder, before making it out onto the street. From there, he grabbed every random passerby he could, threatening to shoot if anyone got close, until he got out of range. The police pursued the two in the alley and Gabe managed to disappear into the throngs of nighttime New Yorkers.
We begin Gabe's story in the ES with him making a run South and trying to keep his head down. Of course, with the Corentin ring exposed, by proxy Gabe is exposed, and all of his identification will automatically throw him right back in jail because it leads to the Corentin ring. He wants to flee to Europe, to general safety, but with no safe passport, no can do. And so, he runs South with two gunshot wounds, hoping he might run into someone who can get him some fake identification and get him out of the country.
Personality: Though Gabe has not always been the sick and twisted son of a bitch that he is now, it's hard not to peg him as ruthless, callous, and hardened by life's injustices. Let it not be said, though, that he revels in taking innocent life. He doesn't understand the principles behind it, and loathes people who order it to be done, but he looks out for himself first and foremost, and if a few innocent bodies have to hit the floor to ensure his own safety and security, then let it be done. His moral code is different than most people's, but he does have one; his heart is different than most people's, but he does have one. He has a wicked sense of humor and an insanely high pain tolerance. You can win his heart with a good meal.
Financial Situation: He has very little money on him at the moment, though he had quite a bit of money in his apartment in New York. However, that's probably been raided by the NYCPD.
Riding Style & Approximate Level: Beyond just getting on and playing around, he's never really ridden. Definitely a beginner. He can handle any kind of horse, though. He's an expert at administering equine medications. ;-)
Game Situation: Running south. Not really involved in the ES yet. More to come.
Horses Owned: None
Active Plot Info: None yet, just joined.
|
![[image]](http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff94/Sylar8mybrain/Gabesiggy.png) |
|
![[Home]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/home.gif)
![[Help]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/help.gif)
![[Search]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/search.gif)
![[Login]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/login.gif)
![[Search This Thread]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/search2.gif)
![[Send Topic To Friend]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/sendtopic.gif)
![[Print]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/print.gif)
Author
Logged