Gabriel had already been laying in bed awake when his comm buzzed its alarm. He had been staring up at the ceiling wishing he was meditating, but really all he was doing was thinking. Thinking about his curse, as he always did when sat alone with nothing better to do. He was thinking about his last drink and how soon again he would have to commit the deed again. Everyday, blood and death were a part of his life. A part that was his greatest struggle. Unlike other's with his disease, he did not succumb to the bloodlust. He decided his humanity was much too important and he would rather die than harm an innocent. Still the blood called to him, the hunger continued to grow and threaten to take control.<br/><br/>Lucky for him - not for them - he was out last night and happened upon a couple of gonking Halloweeners who wanted to relieve him of his mask, and his credstick. He refused and ended up with a midnight snack. He took no real pleasure in ending their lives and draining one dry. It should be just another day, but the taste and the smell still lingered in his brain.<br/><br/>He disgusted himself, he grabbed a random knickknack off the nightstand and chucked it across the room. It hit a piece of glass furniture with a satisfying crash. That cheered him up. He hated brooding, it was the worse side effect of being a vampire with morals. But the trope made him feel like a tool. That was why he was glad for his work. Keeping his mind focused on a mission kept his mind off of his condition and made him feel like he wasn't just existing endlessly. He thought vampire brooding was only for teenage girl novels and the ones that lived for hundred of years in dreary castles crying about the dead girlfriends. He wasn't even that old, he had caught HMHVV when he in his mid 20s. It had only been another 20 years since. "Frag, I'm old." He said in complaint.<br/><br/>Speaking aloud broke his train of though and now with nothing but the job on his mind he finally got up. There was no real rush, he was already ready to go. He had gotten used to sleeping in his gear on the countless stakeouts and laying on concrete ledges. It's almost as if he wasn't comfortable without the grip of his pistols digging into his ribs. He didn't need to shower very often, he didn't have BO and his skin didn't flake off like mortals. However, sometimes his nights out would get a little messy and he would have to clean off all the gore. It wasn't one of those nights. Unfortunate, a steaming hot bath would certainly feel excellent. Otherwise, he was just cold all the time.<br/><br/>The comm buzzed again, reminding him that it was time to go. He put on his mask, which was Smart enabled and told him how many rounds he had in each of his Smart enabled Ares Predators and telescopic Ares Sniper. Satisfied with his quick check, he headed out the door.<br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/>The face she was greeted with wasn't quite what one would expect in any situation. The man, presumably, was wearing a skull mask with red glowing eyes under a black hood. He looked more like a character out of a tridgame rather than a professional driver.<br/><br/>He didn't say anything, however, the lights he had for eyes lingered in the rear view mirror for the next few moments before she heard an audible click coming from the back doors. The car started to move and without a hitch, they were on their way.<br/><br/>The driver said nothing for some time. Ignoring any questions his passenger may have had. He just kept driving around seemingly at random. Making strange turns, getting on and off the highways and even making u-turns only to return back to the same location. He drove very safely and made no sudden uncomfortable stops or turns.<br/><br/>It was only after he was on the highway for some time, half way across Seattle that he finally broke the silence with one simple question. "Where to?" He asked, however, his voice was heavily modulated. The mask likely had a speech filter in it. It made his voice quite deep and added a menacing sounding reverb. It was less electronic than expected and made him seem like some kind of genuine creature of the night. It was quite unsettling.<br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/>Gabriel had seen her picture in the message that was sent to him by Zeus when he had been given the assignment. However, it didn't really do her justice. The woman was quite the looker. He could make out the scar on her face, but it didn't really detract from her beauty. He had seen her face before, in the news when people were talking about the Princess of Demeter Research. But seeing her in person was completely different. Even when he looked away, he could see her face imprinted in his memory just from the first glance.<br/><br/>He took a breath, out of habit rather than a need for  and thought to himself that he had to act professional. He knew she was probably terrified and it was best she never knew anything about him or his condition. The mask was more than just a gadget after all.<br/><br/>He suppressed a laughed when she asked if he knew "Mr. Johnson," she was either really green, or Zeus didn't trust her. Zeus didn't give him a profile of her, that was something he had to do on his own time. All he knew was that she was a spoiled SINner brat.<br/><br/>Focusing on his task, he kept double backing on his route to ensure they weren't being followed. All that was in his contract was to extract the Collar and bring her to a location disclosed by her. He couldn't help but feeling a little empathy for her. She seemed desperate and there was certainly a hint of fear in her. He swore he could hear her heart beating from the driverseat.