MERCH!

Friday, January 13, 2017

Krieger

Concept: Meth Supplier

AKA: Krieger’s real name is Ronald Lee Talbot. No one calls him that since he was 13 and both of his parents died in a car wreck.  Some people also call him “Blitz”  Most people who know him don’t know that Krieger isn’t his name.

Desc: He’s big and broadly framed. He had a promising career as a full-back before he dropped out of high school. He’s a storm of prison skinhead ink with hints and notes of Odinist worship. He likes the Viking aesthetic, it speaks to him. But he hasn’t really read anything about pagan worship. Before he got involved with the Meth, he looked a lot fatter than he really is and he used to eat like a horse. Now he just looks like wound up corded muscle. His skin is pockmarked and doesn’t look healthy. He’s hairy like a Viking and he’s tried various half-assed attempts to braid some of that, but he doesn’t have the finger dexterity or the patience. His teeth are in poor shape and couple are missing. Although, that was true before the Meth business.  Krieger has been in a lot of fights. 
Krieger has the kind of eyes that make you think that he might be thinking about eating a nice danish while he’s strangling the life out of you with his enormous hands. 

History: The main tragedy of Krieger’s life is that he’s only about half smart and grew up redneck as anything. It meant poor decisions. It meant education that didn’t really mean a damn. It meant a lifetime of blaming shit on people he’d never even met, all his damn life. It meant growing up in social dynamics that were Darwinian at best.  And maybe that’s the only reason why he’s alive.
   Look. Krieger has a few skills and some native intelligence, a guy with his build and his capacity for violence, well the Nazi’s are going to come around and start talking sweet to him.  “Yeah, buddy. It’s totally not your fault you can’t hold down a job. ‘specially when them greasy latino fucks are stealing them from guys like and me.”  Before you know it, These guys are your best friends, and they’re telling you all kinds of totally smart stuff.  And even though you’ve never so much as clapped eyes on a Latino, Muslim, or Jew in your whole life, Well, your pals have laid it all out how those fuckers have stolen your natural birthright.

Easiest thing in the world.
And you know, they might come around some night and say, “Hey Krieger...We got this project and we kind of think you’d be good at ramrodding it. We got this factory where we cook up the Meth and we need someone to boss it and see to security.”   And Krieger, having had some of the Meth, and liking it just fine, jumped at the chance.  

Shockingly, it turned out to be a good fit. They expected he’d flame out like the last guy did. Unless you have that environmental gear like they have on “Breaking Bad” you’re going to get way high just being around the meth while it’s cooking. And that’s how a lot of the fatalities happens, especially since the cooking process is volatile too. Boom.

But Krieger, He’s an odd duck. He likes the Meth, don’t misunderstand me. But he considers the trust that his Aryan brothers have laid on him to be the best fucking thing that has ever happened to him. So he exercises SOME discipline, as much as he can. and he sees to the security end of the operation with a monomaniacal zeal.

The primary factory is in a double-wide trailer at the top of a holler loaded with some of the most nefarious man-traps and deadfalls known to man. Krieger’s daddy was a jarhead in Vietnam, and his stories left an indelible impression on young Ronald.  Anybody coming up this way is liable to set something off and it will be like they kicked a hornets nest. HORNETS ON METH!

Attitude: “Dude. It’s the only real job I’ve really ever been good at. So I’m going to do it well. Come up on the Holler, looking to take this away from me and my brothers, and you’re going to get you a fight.”

Skills: Mentally, Krieger is no great thinker. He doesn’t deal with surprises well. (And he KNOWS this about himself. So he endeavors to plan stuff when things are nice and quiet)  He’s poorly educated but shows a certain amount of technical prowess, much of it learned from his father. and he does mathematics just fine.  
On the social side. He’s big and scary looking. He’s not nervous around women and he’s already figured out that there are some women who’ll gravitate to him, either because he figures they’ll get meth out of him. (likely true) or that he’ll smack them around. (Also likely true.)  He’d likely have a bit more streetwise if he could concentrate better.  Surprisingly, Krieger is turning out to be pretty good at his command of the men who do security. He treats all of them like his brothers, and he always seems to have some kind of plan for when cops or rivals come around. 
Physically, Krieger is a fucking monster. He’s weakest on dexterity certainly, that and his low wits tends to make for poor defense. He does, however, have a strongly athletic(3+) body while it’s holding up. (Meth really does a number on your body long term.) He is, however, Hella strong and he’s got plenty of Stamina to go with all that. He’s been in lots of fights so he’ll have pretty decent scores in Brawl and Weaponry.  He’s not a trained combatant, he might have a dot or two in some kind of Wrestling style.   He’s not a great shot, though. His weapon of choice in that realm is a pump action 12 gauge.
He’ll also have crafts, not a ton of dots maybe, but a number of specs for it. He’d have some automotive, a bit of electrical, some plumbing, some drywall, some carpentry, and a spec in Improvised Explosive devices. Gotta love that internet.  Krieger does at least make certain that the stuff he builds gets tested before it becomes part of the security set-up.  Also, he has Animal Ken out the blowhole, The pit bulls at the complex are very very well trained.

Gear:  He doesn’t trust smart phones and they aren’t much use up the Holler anyway. So he sticks to land lines and his flip phone. Oddly, his little Wal-mart go-phone has lasted way longer than they usually do. Krieger doesn’t text. He’s got a truckers chain wallet where he keeps his necessities. For personal protection, if he’s encountered away from the Holler he will likely have a nice big hunting knife. Anything other than that would be a parole violation. Up at the holler, expect that he’ll have his shotgun near to hand. Even in the bathroom.  He’s paranoid that way.

Home: Krieger is working on a little project. He’s taken some of his money and plowed it into another Trailer, This one is in town and he’s outfitting it as a satellite lab, or a back-up in case the old one goes tits up. He spends some time there every few days or so, He’s getting a read on his neighbors there in the trailer park and he’s working on a venting system that will pump production fumes out into the rainwater drainage outflow pipe at the bottom of the hill.  The trailer is already wired to explode with several pounds of homemade plastique. It will likely shred this trailer and the trailers on both sides of him.  His personal bedroom looks like an armory out of a low-rent spy movie.  He’s been keeping the project quiet for the moment because he wants to present the second lab as a pleasant surprise to the AB leadership, or at worst, as a thoughtful backup plan, that he put together... just in case.   This is the best gig he’s ever had and he means to keep it.

Circle: If you aren’t a redneck, Member of his extended family, or a member of the AB, or some woman looking to smash. Krieger doesn’t want to know you. And he’s big enough and mean enough that he can make you go away if you aren’t armed or a cop.

Story Uses:
“Howdy bruh. You look lost.”
Naturally, Krieger doesn’t really have much to do in town. A lot of what he does, he does out in the county, and then bikers come around and distribute the product, every so often, the Aryan Brotherhood sends someone around to check on things and lay money on the boys for doing a good job. Every so often makings get brought up the holler. They’ve got a source that can make a palette of pseudoephedrine go astray. That shit comes straight here.

“Keep pushing asshole and you’re going to end up feeding the Allfather’s crows.”
While there are some occasional doctrinal issues with the Nazi party and the KKK, both of whom still identify themselves as Christian groups, a lot of these issues are glossed over in the name of combatting a common enemy.  The Aryan Brotherhood has a strong Odinist contingent among them and most of the people that Krieger looks up to, are a part of that. While Krieger still tends to view things through a redneck Christian lens, he is slowly starting to adopt a more Odinist attitude.
Wouldn’t it be something if one of his AB higher-ups discovered that he had a talent for Hedge Magick?


Connections:
Sheriff Hank Settles knows that there's a Meth lab up there in the foothills somewhere, but he ain't exactly sure where, and he knows from hard experience that even if it's not some kind of fishing expedition for locating a moonshine still or some patch where the grass gets grown...Going up there is a good way to get himself and all of his deputies killed.  All Hank can do right now is keep an eye on who comes and goes and if he sees some means of getting some outside help, he'll take it. Unlike Grass and Shine, This stuff is pure poison.
* Is it any surprise that he and the boys tune in Alex Mahoney and get all riled up out of proportion?
* Once got defended by Christine Horowitz on an aggravated assault charge. It didn't go well. Krieger would like to repay the little jew girl someday, predominantly with the lower half of body.
*Robert Nathan Herbert "Quite possibly the smartest guy I know, and he got me the BEST deal on a truck..."
* Krieger and Ezekiel Stubbs knew one another inside. He turns up at the holler once a week and they always welcome Gallowsbait MC as long lost brothers. Each is convinced that the other guy is dumber and weaker too. But that's ok. Brotherhood is more important.
* Has dumped a body a time or two out at The Borland Farm. Krieger wouldn't know about the place at all except that Darlene is a cousin.
Homer Conway is a primary contact for the weapons that the AB buy and he also explains that ordinance at Krieger's personal trailer.  Homer is careful with Krieger. He likes the younger man, who reminds him of himself when he was that age, but he's also on guard that the Meth could turn him into some wound up nutcase while his kids and grandkids might be in the house.  It's true. You can turn your back on a drug addict. But you can't turn your back on a drug...especially when it's waving a razor-sharp hunting knife in your eye.


Saturday, January 7, 2017

Detective Marty Bennetti

Concept: Vice Cop (Crooked)

AKA:  Cops who are wise to Marty refer to him as “The Weasel”  It is kind of rare for someone to call him Weasel to his face directly. Usually, the blood has to be up.

Desc:  He’s got a nice smile. He’s kind of charming in a greasy low-rent way. He shortish and has a decent head of hair still. Curly, a little salt in among the pepper. He’s got good energy and people who don’t know him very well tend to think he’s funny. He’s still got one of those little gold horn deals that Italian men used to wear around their necks in the 70’s. It was a gift from his pop the day he graduated from the academy. He’s never taken it off. Marty’s still got good muscle tone, he’s kind of vain about it.

History: A guy like Marty, he doesn’t happen overnight. It’s the little things that nibble away at a sense of rightness.  A free coke here, a comped meal there. Soon, maybe you stop a guy along the side of the road and he thanks you for pointing out your busted taillight and then hands you 1000 bucks.  Maybe somebody makes an approach in the department and your paycheck starts getting supplemented in exchange for going around and making pick-ups of cash. And maybe you don’t skim...Because that would fuck other cops on the pad. And that would be wrong.
   Marty’s kind of a puzzle that way. He’s crooked. Make no mistake about that. He’s so crooked that he has to screw his pants on in the morning. But every once in a while Marty remembers that there IS a line and you CAN cross it.
   That’s the thing. Some cops are bent because someone owns them and they want it that way. Marty’s bent, because he’s just corrupt. He thinks nothing about taking protection money from pimps and a weekly fuck from street whores to turn that blind eye.  For the most part, if someone on the inside asks Marty to do something. He’ll go along, but every once in a while, there’s a task that’s just a bridge too far.  He usually does it...But he does occasionally ask himself... How far is TOO far?

Attitude: “ Dude. Everybody does it.  Don’t kid yourself.  In some way, in all the ways that matter. Everybody does it.”

Skills: Physically, He’s okay. He’s in decent shape overall, he’ll have dots of boxing and police tactics. Also, he’s been a boxer since he was a kid, so he’ll be very good at it. His Brawl is non-trivial. He’s liable to have brawling dodge too.  He’s got average scores in firearms and weaponry from his days as a beat cop. Socially, He’s got really good people radar and a positive gift for smelling out lies.  He’s also got a certain amount of low animal cunning when it comes to knowing when someone is trying to rock his boat.
Mentally, Well. He’s not the brightest crayon in the box. Most of his investigative chops come from experience, not from any real brains. And he’s not exactly a genius when it comes to hiding his extra income.  It may just be a matter of time now.

Gear:  Sap gloves, A couple of holdout pieces, a smart-phone, Condoms (natch),  He’s got a couple of stashes of money, weapons, and party drugs in various spots around town.

Home: He owns his own home. (Again, not really all that swish at concealing his illicit income.) and he’s got a nice car. (GTO, most hookers know it on sight.)  He’s also got a bolthole or two where he keeps his stashes.

Circle: Marty is known, if not necessarily well liked, by most of his fellow cops. There are a couple that actually do owe him their lives, though.  Marty’s still pretty big on that whole “Brothers in Blue” attitude and unless you’ve got hard evidence linking him to a crime, you might find yourself utterly surprised to find him backing you up or saving your bacon out of pure instinct. Marty actually seems to get along better with beat cops than fellow detectives.  At least some of the Brass have heard the rumors about his moral flexibility...But then again, some of the Brass are on the inside too.

Story Uses:
“Look, if you had anything substantial, you wouldn’t be talking to me like this. You’d have me in handcuffs and you’d be punching me in the dick. So let’s just drop it ok?”
 Marty seems to have one real gift. He’s able to squirm out from under the belt sander of destiny. And maybe that’s not going to last forever. But Marty doesn’t think long term. Never has. He’s got some half-assed idea about retiring some day and buying a boat and living down on the Keys somewhere.

“Ok. Cover me. I’ll circle round and draw his fire.”
Marty’s one of those guys with “Paydon’s Curse”  You never can tell what he’s going to care about. He likes his money. He likes his pussy-for-hire, he likes his occasional party drugs and he likes being able to shoot people with no real consequences.  And if he has to do some sketchy things to maintain that life, he’ll do it with a smile.  But every once in a while, his angels get better of him and he does something selfless and heroic. Not because he knows it will patch his reputation. (although it has done that at times.) but because he figured he’d never be able to look himself in the face again.  So far, these things haven’t proven to be mutually exclusive to one another. One day...They will be.


Connections:
Detectives Blanchard and Skiggs have kind of a mixed reaction to Marty. Marty once saved Dick's life in a shootout with a suspect. Although later on, he got tagged for that corruption case just because they were hanging out together. So, As far as these two are concerned, he's good people, but it doesn't do to hang around with him too much or too publicly.
Detective Dana Crowley wants to arrest him so bad that it makes her clit hard. But so far, he's managed to keep his shit under the radar.
Drago Velikovski doesn't like the guy but understands he's a necessary evil. Police protection is never going to be free.
Detective Bob Greider has noticed both sides of Marty's character. He hopes the better angels will win out, but he also knows that isn't the way to bet.  He also understands that if Marty DID catch an inconvenient case of conscience.  Somebody would ventilate his brain case.
* He's a regular listener of Alex Mahoney
* Before he moved up to Detetctive the last rookie he was partnered with was Officer Wesley Ullman. As such, Ullman knows a few things about him but doesn't talk about it. As a result, anytime Marty hears that Ullman is having money troubles, he'll find a little cash in his locker. Ullman is grateful...But also bothered.
* Somebody once asked Miss Virgie Hawkins what she thought about Marty. she said, "I'd trust him with my life. But I wouldn't trust him with my money."
* Someone keeps dropping anonymous hints to him about a porn operation in town. The operation belongs to Milo Karanikas and this is just The Vermillion House covering their investment.
* While no one really knows about Bryson Import/Export. Marty has boned most of Esmerelda's staff and Esmerelda herself. He'd know them on sight.  If he ever caught wise to them, they'd end up with an unwanted partner and WAY more overhead than they have now. Even Pablo would have trouble making a cop disappear.
* Marty is Big Dan Tarleton's guy on the inside. It's worked out pretty well for them both.
* He's bought guns off of Homer Conway in at least 2 situations those guns ended up in the hands of people who had to be shot because they were brandishing a weapon. Hey. it happens that way sometimes. Tragic.
Detective Bela Janofski once put his badge and gun on the desk and said he was not going to work with that fucking weasel. The captain could see that he was serious as a heart attack.

Sunday, January 1, 2017

Tim Deacon

Concept: King of the Homeless

AKA: Often goes by “Deke”

Desc: Lean and hard like a steppe wolf. He’s usually stubbly because he shaves periodically. He doesn’t like his beard. But he doesn’t have a lot of razors and tends to go days without shaving.  His hair is longish and stringy. His left eye has gone white with cataracts and he can’t see out of it. His right eye is blue and has a burning anger in it. He’s a caucasian male and in his late 30’s. He looks way older. It’s not the years. It’s the mileage.  He has an Army Rangers tattoo. He still does his PT. Lives on canned fruit, yogurt, and coffee.

History:  Once upon a time, the Army was a pretty decent deal for a poor boy wanting to go to college. Tim was pretty good at keeping his head low and he served in the front end of the Iraq War without getting himself horribly killed. And that probably would have been the end of the story right there. He’d served, even with some distinction as he’d become a spec operator. He wasn't the BEST army ranger. But he was good enough to be ONE of them.
But Tim got stop-lossed. He ended up being stuck fighting a war that was supposedly “Over”. And as things go, his luck ran out.  He and his squad ended up stuck in-country when an IED jacked up their transport. They were able to get out, and those guys were good enough to fight their way out of the planned ambush. But it still meant they were stuck for a ride back. Transpo was on the way...Or so they said.
   We may never know. The squad was trekking to safe ground for evac when they ran across some outback military installation that was WAY off of any map that their higher ups seemed to have. A quick look around led to a bit of shooting, and then the installation exploded and belched forth a cloud of sickly green looking smoke.
   Most of the guys died right then.
When Evac turned up, an hour later, Tim was the only one still twitching. Nobody is really sure what happened to Warren or Shimizu. Maybe they crawled away or something...
   The next bit is all too familiar. If being blind in one eye wasn’t enough, the terrible seizures were enough to get Tim sent home.  He went back, but he wasn’t the same. He couldn’t turn off the readiness.  He would get furiously angry over nothing and he’d get twitchy over things that nobody ever seemed to understand.  His parents tried to help, but they didn’t have much to help with. The VA was fucking useless. Eventually, even his girl realized that she was in WAY over her head and pulled the ripcord.  He couldn’t hold down a job. He couldn’t stop from going 0-to-sixty in a second flat. Booze and the bullshit VA meds weren’t even taking the edge off.  It was only a matter of time before he simply fell off the grid and stayed there.
   And that’d be the whole story really. But for one thing. The seizures were prophetic visions. And they tended to be literal visions with wildly overwhelming sensory input. Not some kind of metaphorical vision which tells you fuck-all until it’s almost too late.  The only problem is, the seizures were pretty terrible and impossible to control at all. You never knew what would cause them to kick off.  
   The event that caused Tim to realize his visions weren’t some kind of insane delusion involved a no-shit vampire preying on Frieda. Frieda was a friend on the street. Not the brightest crayon in the box, but friendly and kind. Tim saw some horrifying fucker with some flappy rash of a face biting her on the neck near the Dansky Overpass and her dying from it.  For some reason, he began staying close to her. Frieda had always been kind to Tim. Had held him when the shakes came. The vision kept gnawing at him. So he kept an eye on her.  One night, she got a call on her go-phone and left the shelter. When he woke up, she was gone. 
   He followed her to the overpass. He knew that’s where she would go. She met the no-shit-i’m-telling-you-for-real vampire and they talked a bit before he grabbed and began biting her.
   Before that dickhead knew exactly what was happening. He found a wooden stake sticking out of his front.  Deke decided that maybe he might want to pay more attention to the things he sees in the seizures.
    Now, things are different.  Deke has a spot out near the underside of the 12th street bridge where he meets with his people. Deke’s people always seem to know where and when good food is about to be thrown out. They’ve gotten pretty good at staying off the cop’s radar and staying out from under the other Nosferatu. Deke even catches the occasional lotto number and hands it off to someone in true need for a small percentage.   Only one guy ever tried to short Deke on his percentage. That guy went to the emergency room.  What does Deke spend the money on?  He’s got a gun or two laid by. Some canned goods and some bottled water. There’s always SOME kind of hammer coming down, right?

Attitude: “The seizures are pretty bad. I haven’t bit my tongue in half yet...But even if I did...It would be a small price to pay. I was willing to serve my country. But my country hasn’t given me fuck-all back...But MY people?  My people do.”

Skills: Socially, he’s only really good at empathy and streetwise. Mentally, he’s not more than average at anything that doesn’t involve tactical knowledge or understanding. Physically, he’s strong. fast, and has more stamina than anything else.  He’s got Danger Sense, Toxin Resistance, and fast reflexes. He’s got dots of survival out the YANG. and a spec in Urban survival.  He’s got a pretty good knowledge of small unit tactics, and now, as a direct result, so do some of the homeless people under his banner.  (Also, in addition to his precognitive abilities, he's developed Unseen Sense(Ghost) he just doesn't know exactly what that's all about yet. He thinks it might be hallucinations because it kind of seems connected to his visions...but not actually a part of them...per se.)

Gear: His shotgun is old but still functional. He’s got a pistol, but bullets and shells are always in short supply. So those arms are for ugly surprises, but he’s got a machete that has seen plenty of use, and it never needs to be reloaded. He’s got a go-phone (many homeless people do so they can do factory work on a daily hire basis.) He’s got a wallet, but it's mostly just to house his most necessary possession. His library card. He’s often at the library trying to come up with some kind of plan to help his people or study up on vampires and whatnot. He’s gone to some trouble to be friendly to the librarians there so they don’t freak out when he gets the shakes real bad.
He’s got a good set of bump keys that bought online with a visa gift card. He’s become pretty conversant in their use.

Home: One of his people found a spur tunnel that connects to the boiler room of three of the older buildings of the university medical school. Mostly, it enables him to move around in the hospital section pretty easily. But he doesn’t like to linger there very often. The spur is buttoned up pretty tight when he’s away and he gets by swiping small things from the cafeteria line. He’s also snagged a couple of sets of scrubs and a lab coat. You know, just in case.

Circle: Tim knows a few people outside the homeless people. A couple of them were helped by his timely intervention. He’s a known face at the library of course, and nobody seems to look at him twice near the hospital, but he’s not sure that he can settle in there exactly. One really bad seizure there and the balloon would go up for him. While he could probably sneak into one of the rooms where the interns sleep and sack out there easily, it’s simply too risky. He does brave the shower room very early in the morning every chance he can get. Frieda is his personal secretary/aide-de-camp and has pretty sharp people radar.

Story Uses:
* “Catch you fuckers at a bad time?”
Depending on where your characters fall down on the good/evil scale, He could be a timely bacon saver or the monkey wrench in your carefully laid plans. He likely won’t get involved with you or your people unless there is a direct benefit to his people...But you never know. You may have a larger role to play than you know.

* “ Look. I know you have no reason to care, but it’s my people I'm thinking about here.”
That hammer? The one that’s always coming down? It may be that the characters have been shown to Tim in visions as a possible solution. So maybe he reaches out to them. 


Connections:
*Was forced to step in once and intervene when some neighborhood punks were hassling Miss Virgie Hawkins. She never got the chance to thank him before having to flee. If she sees him again... Lord only knows what strange twist their lives will take.
* Occasionally, Tim sees John Patmos in his visions, he still has NO idea who this guy is.
Joseph Cartolano is always good for a box of donuts and occasional loaves of bread. In return, Frieda calls him anytime the homeless people hear anything about vampires moving around.
* It didn't start out to be personal, Tim knew he needed to allow a person an opportunity to get out of the limo, so he showed up with his Bucket and went to town on the windows at exactly the right time. But Lambrose Karanikas was such an utter shitheel about it, that now they look for opportunities to fuck with him.
Dr. Dennis McMurtry is also a person who comes around every once in a while to drop some cash on the community in exchange for open eyes and ears. Every month, they get a visa gift card in the mail for about a 100 bucks. The Doc is good people.
* Ain't a person down here who wouldn't kill or die for Dr. Ronnette Franklin. Errybody knows that.
Charlie "Funny thing about that old man. He sees stuff too. but he sees it different. When he comes around, though, If he's got things to say, I sit up and pay attention. He sees things I CAN'T. "

Saturday, December 31, 2016

Rey Morales

Concept: Janitor/Industrial Espionage Specialist

AKA: Rey has always been just this side of skeletal and he still eats like a starving wolf. As a result, his childhood nickname was “Flaco” (Which means “Skinny”)

Desc: Late 30’s latino male. Skinny, as I said. Callouses from a life of hard physical work. One diamond stud in his ear. No ink.  Good muscle tone, although his back gives him occasional trouble.
On the job, he wears a grey-green coverall and work boots, (he bought a dozen of them so he only has to do laundry every two weeks.) But on his time off he goes in for a bit of color and sandals. 

History: Papi always used to say that gangs were for stupid boys. Smart boys had better things to do than get killed over some patch of territory.  Smart boys learned everything they could, If life in America taught you anything, it taught you that you could steal more with a briefcase and a suit than you EVER could with a gun.  And that turned out to be true.

Rey was a smart kid, and he was able to get and keep a scholarship. But it didn’t really cover everything. So on the weekends while other student were partying, Rey was working for his cousin who ran a janitorial service. 
Rey was going in the direction of becoming a corporate lawyer. He did well in his pre-law classes and was looking around at various possibilities for law school. But law school wasn’t going to just fall down in front of him with its legs open. It was going to be expensive.
   It was at this point when he read a section on corporate espionage in one of his text books. It talked about, in very broad strokes, how it was done and how lucrative it could be.

And the idea popped into Rey’s head...”Hey. I could totally do this.”
He was not wrong. Rey found that most people who worked in janitorial services tended to be completely invisible to the people that they worked for. Moreover, they tended to assume that anyone that worked with their hands for a living had to be too fucking stupid to even understand what they were talking about. (Rey learned quick to adopt a “Rain Man” style persona and occasionally lapse into rapid babbling Spanish when dealing with certain people)
   It started small. At first, the operation involved sifting the daily garbage for nuggets of gold. Rey made anonymous approaches to competitor companies to the one he was servicing promising occasional bits of actionable intel. In return, They’d put money into a grand cayman account for him.
At first, no one took him seriously.  But Rey is pretty talented at reading between the lines, He was able to see from garbage and from scavenged emails when and how the stock prices would change. And when it turned out he could predict these things to his clients...They began to sit up and take notice.
     Rey is pretty swish with a computer. He’s been using one almost his whole life. He bought a decent set of tools online that he could load onto a thumb drive. And that’s been helpful. He bought a set of bump keys online and that’s enabled him to go anywhere that isn’t restricted by keypad access....And the funny thing about that is, Occasionally, areas with key-pad access have messes that need cleaning too.
    Rey has also taught himself a few things about surveillance equipment. Small bugs and tiny cameras can gather a LOT of intel, especially if you can set those devices to squirt their informational payload to a smart phone. (Although, obviously not one in your own name.)
    Rey began to make so much money at this, that he put law school on hold, and eventually bought out his cousin. Rey has become something of a spymaster. Not only is he interested in hard intel but he’s also realized that corporations will pay top dollar for talent that they can hire away from their competitors. Sometimes, all it takes is being passed over for promotion, a big gambling debt, or even a messy horrid divorce that creates a desire to start over in a new city.  Rey has hired members of his own family, and while they may not know too much about the corporate espionage themselves, they certainly know what Rey wants them to look for, and can occasionally make an approach to a person looking to get out.  If nothing else, Rey can always take news that a research director is unhappy and looking for greener pastures to a competing company and let their headhunters do the rest. 
   Rey has taken the time and trouble to create a few extra identities for himself, and while his relatives work for a single company, on paper that company is actually ten companies under a grand cayman corporate umbrella. It would take forensic accountants some time to untangle the whole thing.  The best bit is, that since he’s taken great pains to keep himself anonymous if his client companies decide to screw him, and of course, some try...He just turns up on THEIR doorstep and soon enough their offices are nice and clean, but they are bleeding inside.
  Rey’s not a fool. He’s put money aside in case something goes sideways. Not just for him, but for his family too. And of course, he’s got inside information that makes playing the market childishly easy.  The only question is, will he manage to get out before someone twigs to his activities, or will they figure out who he is before he sees them coming.

Attitude: “It turns out that there is a place online where you can buy roach eggs by the pound. I was doing a thing, and I got in to clean up a mess. I had just enough time to open up a wall outlet and stash some eggs and a slurry of water and sugar in there.  In a weeks time, the secure area was COMPLETELY infested.  So, innocently I happen to mention that my cousin is an exterminator and he works cheap. SO he and I went in, he killed the bugs, and I went through the corporate accounting files.  We laughed. Well..As much as you can do with the respirators on.”

Skills: Mentally, He’s sharp. Not SUPER GEEENIUS sharp. But still pretty sharp. Socially, he’s pretty good, grew up in a decent sized family and has the kind of social reflexes that a smart boy growing up in the hood will get.  Physically, he’s okay.  He’s got a decent pile of dots socked into academics with a specialty in business.  Got some dots in Computer with a spec in anonymous intrusions.
Streetwise and subterfuge are in good shape too. He’s got enough dots in Empathy to be able to spot someone who is a likely target for headhunting. Also enough that it occasionally makes it morally problematical.  He does have a gun and knows how to use it, but isn’t terribly combat capable.

Gear: He normally carries a decent sized tool bag which holds his lunch, his smartphone, his earbuds, a paperback or two. There’s nothing in the tool bag that is remotely incriminating.  Rey has taken the trouble to hollow out the handle of his mop. He stores his jump drives and bugs in there. He also keeps the spare memory card for the phone in there.  He keeps his gun in the glove box of his van.

Home: Rey is careful. He’s got a little apartment in his own name and he drives an old ford van. One of his many companies owns a decent sized house and a late model Lincoln town car. and this is where he spends the bulk of his time. His neighbors think he’s a political analyst.  Funny thing, though. The “family” home is wholly owned and there have been significant additions to it over the years. Rey has had to make with some pretty fancy maneuvering in order to do these things without arousing the suspicions of the neighbors or the IRS.

Circle: Rey lives a double life really. His work means it’s difficult for him to connect to people at his work and a lot of the actual “Cleaning” takes place on the third shift anyway.  He also has to keep his work pretty secret from anyone in the old neighborhood. A good story like that would get around town at roughly the speed of light. Also, gangs might like to take a slice. Fuck that shit.  Even the family is mostly in the dark. Papi thinks that Rey is still going back to law school someday.  But Rey still has some friends he trusts, and family who know a little and those people are the only ones he can really relax with. Rey suspects that someday he’s going to get tired of spinning these plates...But right now?  The work makes him smile and keeps him in beer and skittles.

Story Uses:
“Hm... I’m thinking that these guys are going public after the software rollout.”
Need some company jacked up good and proper? Rey might be the right guy for the job if you can connect up to him somehow. He stays off the grid, for the most part, tends to make the approach and has only a few clients that have a way of getting in touch.

“Look. I don’t do revenge jobs...But your Abuela was like a sister to mine...I’ll look into it.”
If there’s anything that might make the balloon go up too early, it might be Rey’s connection to his extended family.  If some corporate interest screwed over his family badly enough, they would call down a storm of heat, shit, and pain that hasn’t been seen since biblical times.

Connections:
* Rey once hired Selma Collins to do a number on a company. Their internal security was getting a bit too close. Selma was a total professional. Rey would use her again if a stunt called for it.
* He bought his tools from Boolie Hinson but they don’t know one another. Still, they’ve worked pretty well and updates handle new things pretty darn well.
* Anytime he’s got the time to do so, he chats up Rosalie Prescott. That’s mostly because he’s got weird hours and the Gas-N-Go is near his apartment. He likes her a little and her kid too.

* A number of Weiland Diversifications projects have been stymied by some market “misfortunes”  To date, no one has rooted out exactly who is causing it. Meredith Shaw would pay a kings ransom to find out who’s causing it.
* Once, Rey and Clavo Hernandez sat in Clavo's studio one night over a bottle of Tequila and talked about ID's and staying off the grid.  Rey will kick business in Clavo's direction and occasionally Clavo can do the same.

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Detectives Blanchard and Skiggs

Concept: Lazy Homicide Dicks

AKA: Blanchard’s first name is “Ray” Skiggs’s first name is “Richard” but everyone calls him “Dick”.

Desc: Ray is shorter and ruddy. His hair is still dark and his mustache is straight out of 70’s porn. He’s barrel-chested and thick wristed. He’s held the inter-precinct boxing championship more than one time. He’s overweight, but he’s very solid.  Dick is taller and his hair has gone snowy white. He’s sallow and overweight. He may not look like much but he’s the better shot. Dick’s eyes are a little droopy. While both fellas are two-fisted drinkers, Dick’s coloration means that the broken capillaries across the bridge of his nose are a bit more prominent. Both men are pushing 50.

History:  Maybe there’s something to it. That whole idea of “Live long enough to become the villain.”  Both of these guys were cops. Patrol officers and then eventually working their way up to wearing the gold shield.  They became friends...They became partners.
And you know, It would be fairly easy to dog these guys out.  It’s not that they’re bad detectives. They certainly aren’t incapable or incompetent. They’re not by any stretch of the imagination corrupt. As a matter of fact, Skiggs got caught up in a corruption investigation. He was cleared, but he walked around butt-hurt for a good seven weeks, that anyone would even think he ever took a dime that wasn’t his.
  Nah. These two. These two aren’t necessarily bad guys. But they aren’t good guys either.  They ARE lazy. It’s been years since they’ve gone full court press on a case. A man comes home to find his wife murdered and these two will naturally assume the husband did it. After all, it’s usually the husband anyway. right?  Guess whose day just went from bad to worse.
   This is not to say that if you could convince them that they’d missed something, that they couldn’t turn around and make it right.  But if that involves more work and paperwork on top of that...Yeah. It’s going to be an uphill struggle.
Ray’s the volatile one.  He’s a decorated officer but he’s also got some serious stuff in his jacket about getting busy with his fists on suspects.  He’s your typical bad-verging-on-psychotic cop. Socially, he’s the more adept one, but he tends to get hotheaded.   Dick is the smarter one and more level headed. In an interrogation, he’ll vacillate between pulling Blanchard off of someone, and/or dryly asking emotionless questions.  When they double team a suspect, there IS no “good cop”.

Attitude: “C’mon Dick. I been reading up on this way of working a guy over that won’t even leave a mark on him. I mean the little shitbird might bleed out internally, But I hardly see how that’s a fucking problem. Man decides not to talk, he’s got to take what’s coming.”
“Well. If you think that’s best.”

Skills:  Dick is the better marksman, having a couple of dots in combat marksman. Mentally, he’s also got a dot or two on Ray. Ray balances this by being a bit more physically aspected and having dots of boxing. Both have hella good manipulation scores and decent dots in subterfuge,intimidation, and streetwise.  Being interrogated by them is no picnic. Each has about 4 or 5 specialties in Investigation, pretty standard for detectives really if they’ve been at it awhile.

Gear: Ray prefers a solid 45. Plenty of stopping power if you can hit with it at all. Which he can, usually. Dick prefers Glock 9. Dick keeps a Spyderco clipit on his belt at all times.  Ray has sap gloves. Both have Smart Phones. They have a gray Crown Vic that Ray bought at auction one year and then called in a marker with a guy in the motor pool to rehab it.  It’s still in fairly good shape and runs better than an old cruiser has a right to. In the trunk, there are two shotguns, A small box of random pistols with serials filled off. (Because you NEVER know.) and a baseball bat. Blanchard threw in a catcher’s mitt too just because a DA once told him that it would make his life easier.

Home: Dick has a depressing little apartment that he tries to spend as little time in as possible.  Many times, he’ll just go over to Blanchard’s house and nod off on the couch. He’ll stop in in the morning to change clothes and shower.
Blanchard’s home is a cute little place in the burbs. They have a pool table set up in the garage and big old inflatable pool out back.

Circle: To these guys, there are three classes of people; Cops, Fucking Civilians, and Scum. This limits one’s personal interactions a bit.  Ray is married to a woman named Deirdre and has been so for 22 years. Deirdre thinks the world of Ray and considers him her personal hero. Dick thinks she must either be very much in love with him or terribly stupid. He suspects it’s the latter, but he’d eat his weapon before saying that out loud to Ray. And as far as that goes, he can't help but adore her too. Ray knows how lucky he is, and while he might make extremely creative commentary about a female in his immediate field of vision, he’d die before cheating on her.
Dick, for his part, has been married 4 times. He has a bad habit of choosing emotionally unavailable women who are perhaps, too highly strung. The flameouts are impressive. During his first marriage, he got a vasectomy without telling his wife. That ought to tell you something right there.

Story Uses:
“Oh really? Would you like to make a little wager on who cracks the case first?”
These guys come from an old game where one of the players was also a homicide detective. Blanchard and Skiggs were the movie buddy cop rivals that you always see. In fact, the running gag was that if you played it just right, you might actually trick them into doing their fucking job.

“Wudn’t me?” “That’s all he’s got?" "Shit. I don’t even think he WANTS us to look at anyone else." "What kind of alibi is that?"
It’s guys like these that can be the worst nightmare for any character who isn’t able to flee the scene after the shit went down. Maybe you’ll come to, and they’ll be right up in your grill. Or maybe you’ll turn yourself in and tell your story only to have them decide that not only did you do the thing, but they like you for 8 other things now.

“Dude. Stay with me!”
These men, are not good men. But they are partners and have shared a lot. They have put their lives in one another hands.  So if one of them falls in the line of duty. You had best believe that the other one will come for you and all hell will be trailing in his wake.

Connections:
Detective Dana Crowley While most conversations with her usually end up with a certain amount of dwelling on her tits and ass, If you asked either one separately what they thought about her, each would admit that she was a pretty good homicide dick, and as far as IAB goes, she's still pretty decent. This qualifies as high praise actually.
* They were part of the team that collared William Lee Travis They did a lot of leg-work mostly.
* They'd like to hate Detective Bob Greider but they just can't seem to manage it. Bob's too nice a guy. Even when he's making them look dumb.
* They are both faithful listeners of Alex Mahoney
* Nearly ended up being charged with perjury after being cross-examined by Christine Horowitz The DA ended up yelling at the pair of them for a solid half hour.
Officer Wesley Ullman  "He's a good kid. Make a fine officer someday, he just needs to learn how to relax...And maybe switch to beer."
* Both, in their secret hearts, miss being able to talk to Miss Virgie Hawkins
Ezekiel Stubbs tried to resist arrest once quite strenuously. He broke Blanchard's instep. Hurt like a sonofabitch for weeks. Bothers him every time the weather gets cold.
* Once busted Big Dan Tarleton after one of his fighters was found face down in the river, but they had nothing that would stick. Dan was actually innocent for once.
Detective Bela Janofski is considered by both cops to be a pretty decent detective. He has a natural gift for criminal psychology. Course, that doesn't mean that "Digger" isn't going to get his ball busted from time to time.



Sunday, December 11, 2016

Blaise Newkirk

Concept: Political Fixer/Black Magician

AKA: His birth name is Sean Newkirk Jr. Some years ago he had it legally changed and has gone to no small effort to eradicate his original name.

Desc: Tall, dark, handsome. Capped teeth. Contact lenses, unless he needs to look smart. Then the Ben Franklin style bifocals come out. Can buy off the rack but rarely does. Goes in for Bespoke and Italian leather shoes. Has the kind of musculature that you’d expect from someone who plays squash. Has a kind of restless energy that most people would equate with a habit for nose candy, but no, that’s all him. Doesn’t exactly have Pianist's hands, but still plays. He has eyes that pay attention. Has a slight trace of British accent, as if he went to prep school there.  It’s carefully calculated

History: Sean was an only child, which was probably just as well as his father was a drinking, abusive fuck. He and his family lived over on the poor side of town and as Sean grew, he came to hate his existence. He was a smart kid and he knew that he loathed his father. He didn’t want to be anything like that guy, grubbing for every penny during the week and then spending half of his meager paycheck on Miller High Life every weekend.  That usually led to his mother getting smacked around and extra discipline for him as well.

So rather than suffer. He decided to do something about it.
At the tender age of 13, Sean secreted a tape recorder and mic. Taped his mother being brutalized, Mailed it to the police and while that tape was being listened to, cozened a teacher into calling in an abuse charge. He also got a friend to make an anonymous call saying that Sean’s father was selling smack out of their tiny apartment. Sean saved up his money and bought an amount of horse which he then cut to make it look much larger.  So, when the police came calling they not only weren’t inclined to listen to Sean Senior. After finding the smack, they took him away and beat the ever-loving fuck out of him.  Sean’s dad went away, and when he got himself shanked in the prison yard up at Clearwater, Sean Junior breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
   Of course, Sean’s mother tried to get with any dickhead who was willing to smack her around some, because that’s what she was used to. Sean found ways to make them go away and stay away.
   Sean’s not the smartest kid. But he is driven and he knew that he was never going to amount to anything unless he was able to go to college. He went out for track and was good enough at it to letter, but not good enough to wrangle a scholarship with it.  He wasn’t an academic superstar either, so a scholastic scholarship wasn’t likely to be in the cards.
But Sean knows people He’s got great people radar. It comes from having an abusive souse for a father and not knowing from moment to moment where the emotional wind is blowing. You get good at learning cues. So, Sean found ways to enhance his academic performance. He took AP courses and paid smarter kids to do some of his coursework. He made friends with a young man who was getting involved with computers and hacked a grade or two. In one case, he slept with a teacher. In another case, he blackmailed a gay teacher. He graduated near the top of his class, but not Valedictorian or anything crazy like that.  He was able to test well, and cheat even better.

As a result, he got into a good school on a full ride. He got a part-time job that enabled him to afford joining a fraternity and using THOSE connections, Got himself an internship as a paralegal with a prestigious firm.
So how does a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks manage to get himself enough money to be able to leverage himself that kind high-class life?

Easy. Black magic.
Sean dated a girl in his first year of college who considered herself an occult adept. Sean had never thought there was anything to any of that stuff his whole life until she summoned something up that she couldn’t put down. Once Sean had managed to cover up her “Disappearance” He found himself perusing her books, and this is the important part...Seeing where she went wrong.

So. He gave it a try. and being a little morally flexible, was able to make a deal with that entity that they could both live with. The demon, for his part, was actually a little impressed.

Now, He runs a little concern called “The Barron Group” It’s a publicist firm, A very very exclusive publicist firm. He has three associates who do almost all the publicist work, and a partner who is an Entertainment Lawyer that he met during his internship. Olivia Cassavetes essentially runs the place while “Blaise” goes out and makes rain for the firm.

How? By offering his services as a political fixer. Blaise has a mind full of sharp things and an impressive rolodex that only comes from being a professional extrovert and being constantly on the prod. He’s a member of the Vermillion House, and just may be one of the youngest members being considered for the inner circle. Also, he’s expanded his portfolio as a black magician, he’s got about dozen demon contacts now.

Attitude: “Politics is an ugly business. But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know that. What you don’t know is how low some people are willing to stoop. It’s my job to make certain that you and I are never EVER surprised on that front.  Everything else is phone calls, favors, and cash.

Skills: Blaise is NOT a combatant. He’s only ever been in one fight in his whole life and got the crap kicked out of him then. He’s got muscle mass and is healthy, but he’s not trained in any way, and learning combat out of anything other than dire necessity would make him think he’s becoming like his father. It ain’t likely to happen.  As I say, though. He’s certainly fit, and has the kind of stamina that one could expect from someone who is a teetotaler, doesn’t smoke and is a complete horndog. Mentally, he’s a bit above average and comes off a lot brighter than he actually is. Socially, he’s a total monster. Never gets rattled, usually sees them coming a mile off, and could probably talk the devil out of her panties.  He will have a vast panoply of social merits. He makes ridiculously good money too. He will also have a goodly chunk of dots in Occult, and a Second Sight Template for Apostle of the Dark One.  He’s developed “Unseen Sense (Vampires)” Because it was useful, and he made a deal many years ago for a truly impressive schlong.

Gear: Has the sort of stuff in his phone that could topple governments in this state. As a result, it’s got Intrusion countermeasure software loaded onto it. He’s got his iPad for music, books, and movies. He has a Bluetooth earpiece for his phone, and he is almost constantly on that phone. Usually, while he’s walking. He keeps a treadmill in his office.  He had a vasectomy years ago, but still carries condoms out of habit. You just never know anymore.
In addition, He’s usually got cash and a dozen credit cards in his slimline wallet, which is also  RFID shielded. He keeps multiple chargers and phone batteries in the glove box of his Jaguar. He has a boat which isn’t QUITE a yacht. But it will sleep four couples comfortably and has come in handy for body disposal.
Some years ago, He invested a decent amount of money in surveillance equipment that you can actually purchase on the open market, and few piece of equipment, that you can’t. He has a white panel van that bears the legend “Montgomery Tech Solutions” but also has a couple of magnetic signs that could be put over that stowed in the back.  Some things, he’ll go and do himself. Other things he’ll farm out to P.I.’s It all depends on the nature of the target.

Home: His penthouse is a bog standard penthouse, The only things that are remarkable about it are the fact that it requires a keypad code to get the elevator to go up to it and the truly impressive amount of sex toys that are stowed in one of the walk-in closets.  He rarely eats here and the kitchen shows it. Most of the time he dines out with clients, “Friends”, “Frenemies”, Lodge Brothers ,and Fraternity Brothers.
His office is on the 22nd floor of the Mainway Tower downtown.  Surrounded by law firms and high-level accounting firms. Its offices are well appointed but cozy and intimate.(Comfy leather and plenty of plants.) Blaise’s personal office features a grand piano which he noodles at while he’s thinking and a bookcase with a hidden keypad that opens into a hidden ritual space about the size of a garage.  If “The Barron Group” is ever forced to pull up stakes and leave, this ritual space will need a team of exorcists to clear it.

Circle: Vast and pervasive. Blaise is actually fairly methodical and has a grand strategic plan for the sort of alliances and friendships he hopes to make in order to grow his influence.  Any character in these pages above a certain income level is liable to be in his rolodex and even criminals and gang members have their uses, so they are fair game too. In fact, I’ll only hit the highlights in terms of his connections below. He is instinctual about offering his business card and asking for one in return. There is ALWAYS a follow-up call,text,or email the next day. 

Story Uses:  “Look, I told you. I have the local media sewn up around her. You want the full court press, You buy one of our packages. You want to get frozen out and have anemic box office. That’s entirely on you, Ms. Swift.”
He’s got the media in his pocket and his political and corporate portfolio is nothing to sneeze at. He seems damn near ubiquitous. He works hard to be so.  He’d make a great ally. Possibly a decent mentor for a younger character who is young, scrappy, and hungry.

“If you want to amend the contract I understand. But I’m going need something in return. Don’t worry...You’ll still get your sacrifice.”
Blaise is in the middle of a bewildering web of contacts, negotiations, obligations and favor trading. He is constantly in need of people who are willing to handle things for him. Maybe your players wouldn’t mind having him owe THEM a favor. But then again, maybe they WOULD.

“Yes, sir. I’ll handle that personally.”
Yes. Blaise Newkirk would be an awesome get for some vampire. There’s just one problem. it would seriously piss off the entirety of the Vermillion House.


Connections: 
*The Vermillion House considers him to be one of their rising stars and the power of a new generation. Blaise has gone to some effort to conceal his humble origins from them. While it might be a rude shock to some of the members, others would still consider him part of the "Natural Aristocracy" of the world.  He HAS seen how there is something of a divide between people who made money and people who inherited it within the House.
Holmes, Gillis, Baker, Savage, North, and Dean  Blaise considers Roderick Holmes to be one of his oldest and dearest friends and looks up to him like a mentor. They brunch once a month and between them carve up the cities available influence pool. He also plays squash with Ilyana Baker and then fucks her afterward.
Jamal Cooper is always good for some violence for pay. Of course, Blaise thinks he is a bit unstable and has been cultivating his boys for when he eventually gets himself killed or jailed.
Boolie Hinson "I've never had a problem with him. He's as professional as they come. I just wish he'd lay off the speed.
Captain Roy Gunderson "I don't ever want to hear you call him "Captain Smelly" in my presence again. That man is a genius and has saved my bacon more times than I care to count."
Aldous Church "He came to me highly recommended by certain government people. And I have to admit he has not disappointed me yet."
Marcie Hawkins "I only know her by reputation. But I'd love to meet her."

Sunday, December 4, 2016

Detective Dana Crowley

Concept: Little Miss Rock and a Hard Place

AKA: It turns out the Dana is pretty hard core in the Police softball team. She’s shortish, so her strike-zone is hard for some to hit and when she connects with the ball, she’s got some pretty decent power. As a result, guys around the station call her “Slugger” Crowley. 

Desc: Exactly 1/2 inch over the department size requirement. Bright green eyes. Not a lot of fat on her although the amount of desk work she does is starting to make her concerned about her ass. Naturally curly black hair.  Nice smile. Favors cowboy boots because they tend to ground her stance and they’re useful in the field.  The nicest article of clothing she owns is a dark purple cashmere scarf.  Favors black jeans and solid color button up men’s shirts. And her  trusty black trench coat.

History: Dana is from a cop family.  And being the eldest, got the pitch much harder than her younger brother Daniel. Which was just as well, Daniel came out at 17, and while it’s not impossible for a gay boy to be a cop, that wasn’t a fight Daniel was willing to have. Dad understood eventually. Besides, Daniel was smart in a different way and now he teaches math at the university.
    But I’m talking about Dana right now. Dana’s pretty smart, and has a normal amount of actual ambition. She put in her time as a patrol officer, and after what seemed an interminable wait after passing her Detective exam, she got her gold shield and went to work.  She’s done a few thing in various departments. She detested working in Vice, Liked Bunco, but there’s so little call for it. Was good at Homicide, but it started to get to her...So what’s a girl to do if she’s bucking to have a captaincy of her own by age 40?
Well. IAB was looking for someone and Dana thought, “Well. It might not exactly endear me to my fellow cops all that well. but if I’m looking to play the long game, this is where I need to be.”  So they found each other after a fashion.
     It’s different.  Every suspect you meet is a cop and by extension, a trained killer. (Dana reads a lot of Lee Child, Looking for pointers.)  Sometimes you have to file a report on a decent cop who’s made a serious error in judgment and those days are never good ones.
   But other days, you file a report on a cop who’s done something so fucking egregious and then you end up getting pressured to label the shoot “righteous”  What the Fuck?   And why is it that the corruption cases never seem to go anywhere.  And maybe it’s just her imagination, but sometimes it feels like her captain is acting a little squirrelly and erratic. Granted his divorce last year was pretty ugly...but still.
   Increasingly. Dana is starting to feel like she’s caught in a bad situation. Cops are doing bad things out there, but it seems like her department isn’t being allowed to do what it’s supposed to. And dammit, Dana wants to know why.

Attitude: “Look. I don’t ever think that a police person is ever going to manage to be morally above reproach. Some do things that are morally shady and balance it by still trying to be the best officer they can be. I don’t generally tool around here giving people the stink-eye over little shit like some dicks in this department do.  But there IS a line. You can cross it.  And it’s up to cops like me to make sure that little shit is the only thing cops can get away with.

Skills:  Physically, She’s a dynamo in a small package. Not super strong, but knows how to use what she has and she’s got good stamina. She’s got some good dots in Athletics and Fleet of Foot in Merits. 3 dots of Brawl, Firearms, and Weaponry.(Specs in snap baton, and Baseball bat.)  Some dots in kung-fu, combat marksmanship, and cop tactics, But not a ton of dots in any of those Fighting Styles.  Socially, she’s pleasant enough and smart enough to be covetous of Bob Grieder’s social acumen.   Mentally, She’s pretty sharp. Decent investigation and computer scores. A fair pile of dots in academics with specs in forensics and ballistics. Each time the department offer courses, she takes them and usually crushes them. (Dana was always blowing the curve in school) 

Gear: Dana prefers 45’s She’s got one under her right armpit, another in the small of her back and a 38 revolver on her left ankle. Some years ago, she went to see the movie “Se7en” and from that point on started carrying a switchblade with a mother-of-pearl handle. (More for opening things and handling evidence than as a serious weapon.) 
When it comes to Phones, Dana is an early adopter. Usually first in line to buy the new smartphone-du jour. She’s got half the department’s numbers in that phone, it’s connected to her Skype number and her Facebook. She’s got a high-resolution sense on its camera. A couple hundred useful criminology texts, useful evidence gathering apps, and about a gigs worth of upbeat House and Trance music to keep her awake during the slow times. She dictates a lot of her notes into that phone. She even keeps a spare phone in her desk so she can swap out the SIM card in case hers gets damaged in the field.  Dana also carries Tarot deck in a zippered pocket in her trench.  Not because she has any belief in the occult, but because she read a novel some years back about a guy who used the tarot symbology as a means of cracking cases.  Some mumbo jumbo about “Finding out the things, you don’t know that you know.”  She tried it out and has been using it ever since.

Home: Shares a brownstone with her brother and his small doggies. She and Daniel can both walk to work from there. Weekdays are usually sleepy affairs but weekends at the Crowley household usually include the shooting range, The batting cage,  Brunch, and taking in a drag show with her brother. 

Circle: For an IAB officer, Dana is pretty decent and most of the other cops are a little guarded around her, but that’s to be expected. She still has friends in the other divisions she used to work in. She’s also got friends in the gay community, who good-naturedly tease her about coming out eventually. I mean shit girl. Look at those boots.
For the record, she is in a relationship with a guy, but it’s not going terribly well.

Story Uses:
“Something about this whole shoot is not adding up.”
Dana would be a great get for any hunter group composed largely of members of the Union. She’d also make a decent “Friendly” for Task Force Valkyrie and the special agents of V.A.S.C.U.  

“Is it just me or is this starting to stink to high heaven”
The reason that the captain is acting weird is that some vampire jack-wagon has got his/her hooks into him. Dana’s likely to see it first and is just motivated enough to find out exactly what’s happening and why...


Connections:
*Loves and respects the living daylights out of Detective Bob Greider.  Anytime she has a quandary at work, she goes and buys Bob lunch and he usually untangles it for her. If you could get anywhere politically, by working Bunco, Dana would go back to being Bob's right hand in a heartbeat.
Officer Wesley Ullman is on Dana's shit list. She personally saw him harassing some gay people of her acquaintance and got all up in his grill about it. Look like he was going to draw on her too.
* Is in a "sort of a relationship if you squint" with Norman Cayce. The main trouble is that while the like one another and are good together in bed. Both have crippling schedules and the department has clear guidelines on employee fraternization.  Date night keeps getting pushed off. A lot.
* Has met Doris Badenov. In fact, Jordan once spent about a week on Daniel's couch. Daniel says he's a good guy, but he gets to drinking and then yammering on about vampires. Can't tell if he using a metaphor or is into "Twilight" or some crap.
Darla Grumman badly wishes Dana wasn't straight, although Daniel is one of her best friends in the world. Why must things be so complicated?
*Regular reader of Lara X.
* Has known Detective Bela Janofski and the rest of the Janofski clan her whole life. She and Bela even used to date in high school. Norman is not aware of this connection at all. And in truth, it ain't like that no more...Well. Not really.  That whole thing only comes up every once in a great while. Mostly, they use one another as sounding boards on cases they're working on. Dana is probably the biggest reason that Bela's never taken a nickel he wasn't due.  And Dana, for her part would like to punch his ex-wife Janis until that adenoidal bitch stops moving.