Joseph Cartolano

Concept: Donut Delivery Guy/Vampire Killer

AKA: Goes by Joey or Jojo.

Desc: Joey used to be pretty heavy, and diabetes ran in his family. He’s not exactly lean, he’s too broadly framed for that and likely he’ll never completely get rid of his pooch. But he’s in phenomenal shape. Mid-thirties, Losing his hair on top. Thoughtful eyes. Changes his facial hair whenever he gets bored. Has that kind of face that is utterly forgettable.

History: Joey’s been lucky. He may not recognize that...But it is undoubtedly true. He’s been lone wolfing it in the vampire hunting business and has been able to succeed by dint of superior tactics, well thought out use of intelligence, extreme dedication to his physical fitness and sheer dumb luck.

Joey used to be like a lot of dudes. Kind of a slacker. A bit of a stoner. Really smart in some ways, but not really involved in the world. Hanging around and hoping that his Party DJ business takes off. He got a job on the third shift delivering donuts to pay the bills, but also because he’s always been something of a lone wolf. The loss of any real social life seemed like a small price to pay. 

Joey found that delivering donuts suited his temperament for the most part. He would load up the van with boxes of donuts, breads, sheet cakes, and a few other things, stacking them and bracing them carefully. Then he’d set off on his route, delivering to gas stations, Hotels all over town, multiple hospitals, and then reload for delivering to the university and the county schools. 

One night he walked into a Gas-N-Go to find a vampire feeding on the prone body of the clerk on the floor. She looked up into his eyes...and that was the last thing he remembered. An hour later, it all cleared off and he was sitting in his truck by the side of the road.

Had to bust ass to get the deliveries made after that, because it went without saying that he couldn’t explain to his boss what had happened.

And frankly, that should have been that. But Rhonda left a hook in. Some nights later, she called him, he responded, not really knowing why, and she put the whammy on him again. This time she fed him her blood.

Rhonda wasn’t stupid. She decided that the donut delivery guy might be useful. and it turned out he was surprisingly useful. He could go anywhere in town, the third shifters and over-night cops all knew him and didn’t look at him twice. He was useful transportation on some nights and he turned out to be strong enough to help lift a body and dump it later. Rhonda was careful not to use him too much, as he explained, “My boss doesn’t really give a fuck what I do, as long as all the stuff gets delivered and isn’t late.”   Rhonda was even helpful on the route on occasion.

Joey, for his part, was smitten and happy. and Rhonda owned him for a good two years. She’d even climb on top of him every so often and let him do things to her in exchange for little of the red and sticky. Sure, she had times when she could be a total bitch, but he never took that personally. 

Then, one night, He dropped her off at a Holiday Inn Express out near the interstate, she said she was going to meet some emissary from out of town. Less than a half hour later, Joey had a terrible premonition that something had happened.

By the time he’d finished the school deliveries, it was all over the news. Some kind of terrorist attack or some bullshit story like that. The front desk clerk was found catatonic. He never saw Rhonda again.  He called her phone a hundred times. Eventually, her voicemail filled up.

He went through what could be considered lightly as a “bad patch” He started drinking. He became a recluse in his apartment. Even his mom thought he was in a bad place and sat him down to ask him if something happened between him and Rhonda. He broke down crying and got up and walked out without explaining anything.

Eventually, it might have worked itself out of his system. He didn’t crack completely as some ghouls do.

But he was delivering to a gas station when he saw some dude gassing up his Lexus, and...goddamnit just KNEW that that guy was a vampire.

A quick talk with the clerk confirmed it. That guy had his hooks into the owner and so he’d come in and get gas or whatever and the owner told him that the guy was never to be charged. Came in every Thursday, more or less like clockwork.

A plan formed.

Joey ended up jumping the guy, Staking him and then taking him to a remote location. He didn’t get the whole story of course, but he did get it confirmed that Rhonda had been taken off the count.  He was tempted to take the vampire’s blood, missed that horrifying strength that came with it, but it was their thing.  He only wanted Rhonda...So he set the asshole on fire and split.

The next day, he enrolled in Jiu-Jitsu classes.

Attitude: “Look. I got no kick with other supernatural types. Most of them are just folks trying to deal. And if I check out some vampire, and he’s just looking to get fed and not make any trouble...Then I’ll likely give him a pass too.  Oh. I’ll still keep tabs on em. But you know, I don’t have a hard-on for it, like some. But if some vampire is causing trouble. I’ll come looking for them...and there haven’t been too many to get away from me.

Skills: As mentioned above, Joey is in pretty great shape. He’s not the most social guy, but he’s learned a thing or two. He IS pretty damn smart. Always best at Wits, but over time he’s case hardened his Resolve too. He’ll have dots in martial art and weaponry dodge, disarm, strong back, and quick draw on nearly all of his weapons. He’s also developed Unseen Sense: Vampires.

Gear: Joey has a long black leather coat which he bought on sale one year after Christmas. He also has a black hat. These are his normal rain gear, but he’s taken to wearing them all the time now. He made a deal with a guy he knows who made him a harness out of chain mail interspersed with sections of ballistic ceramic trauma plates. He can get that rig on in seconds now. Joey has made a jackass rig for each arm that holds stakes. He keeps a regular long hunting knife in a sheath on his right hip. His primary weapons of choice are a pair of mail-order Hook Swords. Hook swords aren’t exactly easy to conceal or even sheath, but they are goddamn excellent for beheading vampires.  Joey keeps a laptop in his van primarily for music selection, but also to take notes and receive calls at his skype number. Joey also wears a pair of goggles which have inserts inside that cut down his actual ability to see out of them. Joey fights largely blind. He’s pretty good at it. It’s prevented him from being dominated, majestied or nightmared. It’s also turned out to be a rude shock to vampires who expected to obfuscate and decided to attack rather than run.  Celerity is the only thing that Joey ain’t got nothing for.

Home: Joey’s efficiency apartment is in a building in a kind of poor neighborhood but aside from a little gang activity, the neighborhood is pretty chill and the neighbors look after one another. It would be difficult for anyone to approach Joey's apartment without being observed unless they were Obfuscated or in an animal form. Joey’s unit has all of its window blacked out with gorilla tape and black poster paper that’s been cut to fit. (Had to get special permission from the landlord to do it.) He’s done this because he’s got to sleep in the daytime.

Circle: Joey’s not the most social guy. But over the course of time, he’s picked up a few friends on his route and he’s pieced together a rough collection of third shifters who have SEEN some stuff and are willing to kick him a little intel when they run across it.  This intel has led to a few daring daytime raids in hotels and other spots. But if nothing else it’s kept Joey from feeling like he’s in this alone. Matter of fact, he’s dating a girl who works the front desk at the Microtel on his route.  Woe betide any vampire who tries to get at Joey through his girlfriend. She’s looking to join the FBI someday and is studying counter-terrorism in school.

Story Uses:

“Hey you...Dead man.”

Joseph has a real gift for turning up on the worst night of a vampire’s life. This is because he understands a few basic principles:

*Speed beats Strength

*Surprise beats Speed.

*Tactics beats Surprise

So, many times, Joey has scouted the vampire in question for a while and has an idea of where and how to hit him to maximize his chances. And he’s got a few places that he’s noted make it more difficult for vampires with Celerity and Obfuscate because of their hemmed-in nature.  He’s smart. and as I said lucky.  

“Yeah. I’m not crashing that party unless I can bring friends.”

Joey is more confident going after lone vampires. He’s not going to attack a group. He’s also not going after some kindred with highly paid ghoul security forces.  As a result, most kindred who even know there is hunter out there think of him as a bottom feeder, not reckoning that he’s actually got a pretty respectable body count going. And every single time he has time to interrogate a victim, his picture of what is going on in the kindred world gets clearer. 

Connections:

*Has heard of, but not yet met Dr. Ronnette Franklin. Knows a little about her from one of his third shift friends. Has already decided that he might need to meet her if he can because it goes without saying if he gets badly hurt, he can't really go to a hospital.

*Used to game with T.C. Mitnick and his girl Suzanne.They met at Donut Hut back in the day. Allied Business Data still gets donuts and a sheet cake about once a week, (Because there are a lot of business drones that have trouble making it through Wednesday without a 3o'clock sugar bump. They'll look for reasons to order a cake.) So they still see one another from time to time.

* Doris Badenov is actually living in the same apartment building. But they've not met one another at all. This is not shocking. Both are introverts and have weird hours. 

* Donut Hut, (Don't let the name fool you, it's a full-service bakery) supplies buns and rolls of surpassing quality to Rory O'Halloran. Rory thinks Joey is an odd little squirrel but alright for the most part. He was in a better humor when he was fat and had that girlfriend of his.

Reverend Mike Plumber

Concept: Bad News Preacher Man

AKA:None

Desc: Mouth like a drawstring purse, iron gray hair. Suit. Tie. Flag Pin. Large meaty hands. Bright white smile, literally thousands of dollars of cosmetic orthodontia. Grey eyes that make you think of timber wolves. Slightly hoarse voice, that can nevertheless deliver stentorian tones to the back row of his church.

History: You would never know to look at him, that 40 years ago, Mike Plumber was a young seminary student. Keenly interested in psychology and some of the new and interesting ideas that the late 70’s were creating in American Christianity.  There is a picture in the back of some old album somewhere of Mike with long hair and a faintly ridiculous beard, flowers in his hair, eyes filled with energy, promise, faith and some DMT.

Somewhere along the way, that guy died. He didn’t exactly die suddenly. He died over a long period of time. a death of a thousand paper cuts. And that, all by itself would be pretty darn sad.  But then someone came along and decided that the still animate corpse was worth owning.

(Since this IS the World of Darkness I’m talking about, I’ll go ahead and point out that I’m only talking about a metaphorical death here. Mike is still living and breathing and stuff. But he is a far cry from that young man from so long ago. )

And let’s make no bones about it. Mike is OWNED by someone. Every once in a great while, he’s asked to do or say some heinous thing and the niggling little bits of his better self still feel the knife go in. But he does it. because in the end, he just doesn’t have the courage to fight or end his life.

Reverend Mike Plumber is everything that is wrong with American Prosperity Gospel Christianity with just a dash of Pentecostal trembling in the face of God’s unmatched wrath.  He launches ambuscade after ambuscade of vitriol from his pulpit every week and issues marching orders to his compliant cult-like flock about who to hate, who to protest, and unashamedly, who to vote for.

His church is an enormous megachurch, complete with food court and a tiny mall. There are broadway theaters that don’t have the same production values as the sanctuary of this place.  The church has turned into 8 or 9 buildings in a roughly compound-like lay-out. It’s even got a baseball diamond. Every Sunday parking on this side of town is utterly fucked.

First Epiphany is legendary around these parts for the sort of smarmy self-satisfied jerk-faces that give people who are honestly trying to follow Christ’s example a bad name. And the people pulling Mike’s strings...That’s just the way they want it.

Frankly, If Mike had his druthers, He’d just as soon make off with a few million he’s got salted away in a grand cayman slush-fund, drop off the map and spend the rest of his life high as a kite and hip-deep in Thai whores of indeterminate sex.  But unless his owners get themselves whacked, and that doesn’t seem likely. Here is where he will stay.

He’d pray for a way out, but he stopped believing in God a LONG time ago.

Attitude: “Son. Between you, me and the wall. I don’t necessarily believe more than 30 percent of the things I say up there. No. I don’t necessarily practice what I preach. But then again, I’m not the same poor dumb fool I’m preaching TO. 

Skills: A good smattering of Academics, Science(Psychology), and 5 dots of Persuasion and Expression. (He also still plays a mean bass.) Serious points chunked into Presence and Manipulation (But not as much composure. It’s not EASY to rattle him, but it IS possible.)

Gear: Mike keeps gum in his pockets and a pocketknife. He keeps a fresh hanky in his jacket pocket and a pair of sunglasses. He still wears a watch, a Timex he inherited from his father which gets serviced once a year and keeps near perfect time.  Mike refuses to carry anything else on his person. He does have a personal assistant, a young woman who is responsible for his phone. No, the rumors aren’t true. She isn’t sleeping with him. But she does vigorously peg him, at his insistence, twice a week. 

His wife knows all about it. Frankly, she’s relieved.

Home: Palatial. Technically owned by the church, so that Mike doesn’t have to pay property taxes on it. 6 of his ten kids still live at home. Most them are gormless layabouts in their mid 20-30s. Rich kids with a preacher father who never really seems to be around. The other four kids got to hating their father so badly that they had to move out. At least one has gotten involved as a political strategist working for...liberals. Another came out publicly and has become a strident voice for Gay Christian rights.

The house has an enormous pool and a great big old barbecue suite near the back door of the kitchen.  Once a year, Mike hosts a cook-out where the movers and shakers of town come and discuss weighty matters over pulled pork and daquaries. More political business gets done at the cookout than at a dozen city council meetings.

Circle: Dots of Retainers certainly. Allies of all sorts. Contacts in political and religious circles and high society circles. Dots of Staff (One for the household, the rest for the church of course. ) And what his social influence can’t manage, his money can. At least 2 of his children OUGHT to be serving time in the state pen, but are serving out sentences under house arrest. (They spend a lot of that time stoned and playing X-box.)

Story Uses:

“Attend my words for the spirit is moving upon me...”

It really depends on WHO is pulling Mike’s chain.  If it’s some vampire, odds are fairly good that Mike will be a semi-passive force in the community. He’ll usually only be pressed into service to help shore up the masquerade or to calm down the spooked herd.

If it’s The Vermillion House, then he’ll likely only be bent to propping up the status quo in town and keep the peasants nice and distracted while the rich and powerful go about their reindeer games.

But if Mike is in the grip of someone working for the Exarchs...Well. His ministry is going to be very active and very very problematical.

“It was at that point, I realized it was time to go.”

Perhaps the more interesting use of Reverend Mike would be to show what happens when his handler gets taken off the count. He might commit a very public suicide. He might disappear for a year and then re-appear having written a book blowing his entire ministry out of the goddamn water. He might go to jail.

He might find God again.

All sorts of possibilities.

Connections:

*Trent Parker of Parker Mortuary and Black Creek Cemetery attends this church and has a special deal with Reverend Plumber.

*Officer Honus Brightwater is a member of the church. He thinks Reverend Mike is a genius and a true man of God.

* Teflon John Galloway has sold pot to a statistically significant number of the Plumber kids.

* Occasionally, the ministry needs special help from skilled business advisors and so occasionally, Mike calls Bryson Import/Export for their "assistance"

* Mike doesn't know it yet, but he's already met John Patmos. If John ever explained himself to the reverend...There is literally no way of telling which way he'd go.

Lorna Crane

Concept: Black Widow

AKA: Cecile Dubrow, Lana Foley, Desiree Cerrenzi, Meg Harper, and a few others saved for a rainy day.

Desc: Bright blue eyes. Her hair is normally a dark red but it has been every color of the rainbow at one time or another. A firm meaty frame and a nice amount of junk in the trunk. She keeps fit as a means of staving off the fact that she eats like a horse. Surprisingly strong grip. Can wear anything and make it look good.

History: If it weren’t for the body count, her story would be tragic. Lorna was 16 when she and Randy decided that the baby needed to have married parents. Her job at the Pick-n-Pay didn’t matter too much, but Randy was a mechanic and he made decent money. Enough to trick out that truck of his with nearly every bell and whistle there was.

   And you know that’s probably the way it would have gone too. Except Randy could occasionally be a mean drunk.  I’m not saying he beat her regular. He even tried to stay off the sauce because he didn’t really like the person he could turn into. Was at least man enough to be deeply ashamed when he got liquored up and busy with his fists. In fact, he told her once after smacking the crap out of her at a party, that she should leave him. Begged her to leave him because he was afraid he was going to hurt her real bad like his old man had done to his mom once upon a time. For a girlfriend/baby-mama beater, he was shockingly self-aware.

But she wouldn’t leave. She loved him. And they swore together that night that they would work it out somehow. Randy tried therapy. Lorna had a girlfriend she could talk to about these things.

But you know, sometimes you just can’t plan for the fuckers in your life.  Randy’s best friend Bobby didn’t really care for Lorna at all. Some people say that he just didn’t like that Randy was looking to settle down. Others say that maybe Bobby was looking to cut off a slice of Lorna himself. Me. I tend to think it was the combo platter. Anyways, about two weeks before they were going to get married, Bobby took Randy out for a bachelor party and got him very, very, note-the-emphasis-here, very drunk.

And you know even that might not have resulted in a tragedy, had not Bobby filled Randy’s poor ears with all sorts of bullshit about how his girl had been playing tic-tac-toe and maybe that rug-rat might not even be his.

So, Randy went home, like he’d been fired out of a shotgun and beat her down like he’d never done before.

Lorna went to the hospital.

Lorna lost the baby.

She got out after about 2 weeks. She went home to live with her parents and had her girlfriend collect her things. She never spoke another word about what happened that night. She sat up in her room and watched television, got heavy and...silent.

The community made it pretty hard on Randy. And people who were paying attention gave Bobby down the road, but nothing was really going to happen to those dudes. Bobby had nothing but a couple of people's word tying him to the whole mess.  And Lorna refused to press charges against Randy.

So it was really kind of a shock when 2 months later, Randy ended up crushed under his truck while working on it. Somehow, one of the axle jacks failed and it was over...very very quickly.   And Bobby died like a week later. Heart attack from nicotine poisoning they said. Apparently, something he drank, or maybe it was the glass he drank it out was laced with pure nicotine. At least that’s what the county coroner said at the time.

It was a bit of a one-two punch really. Some said it was God’s justice on those two. Others grunted and went on about their business. Some muttered darkly that maybe Lorna had done something. And some even said that the restraining pin on the Axle jack might have had a tool mark on it from a set of bolt cutters. People like to talk, you know?

Lorna went to Randy’s funeral.  Lorna did not attend Bobby’s funeral. It was probably best.  Lorna had a lot of complicated feeling about Bobby. I mean, she managed to get close to him without anybody seeing it happen, and managed to go off into Crater Woods all by themselves. And you know it was kind of unexpected that she would get so much pleasure out of fucking a man that she knew she was going to kill.

By the time the local PD began to have doubts about what had happened and take a second look at things, she had already left town and was looking for greener pastures.

She moved to a new place, changed her hair, started going by her middle name, (Madeline, if you must know.) got herself a new wardrobe, got herself a decent job working as a personal assistant for a lawyer. Patton was smart, but a little volatile and highly strung. The first time he threw her down on the desk and did it to her...well. He wasn’t exactly gentle. But rather than cry or press charges, she pretended to like it.  Insisted on rough treatment in the bedroom in fact.  He was, to put it mildly, incredibly relieved...But she did want Patton to marry her.

Which he did. He wasn’t a complete fool. He made her sign a pre-nup. Funny thing about that, though, The document was supposedly safe as houses and mysteriously went missing after they recovered his body.   It was pretty open and shut. Patton was a climbing enthusiast and his gear failed in front of 8 witnesses. Madeline wasn’t even in town when it took place. No one ever did locate the trace amounts of low molarity acid on his high test rope. it was only a matter of time really.   

This time, Lorna got it all. Patton was a damn good lawyer and had made a very decent amount of money. And you know what, over the last few years Lorna had decided that she rather liked the good life. She turned Patton’s house into cash, along with his life insurance settlement and all his personal wealth, and then she went to Europe and dropped off the map a bit.

And that has been her life for the last 15 years. Marrying some man, and then having him meet some horrible tragedy, and walking away rich and scot free.

Now, she’s arrived on the social scene in this town. A rich socialite, a recent widow, and rumored to like the rough stuff. Certainly hot and not necessarily tediously serious about the relationships that are being offered to her. One can only imagine what will happen next.

Attitude: “Real talk dear. Some men...Well. They have violent urges. I mean. I’ve known men who are peaceable souls and wouldn’t hurt a fly, but you get them in the bedroom and some switch just gets flipped and well... The best a woman can do really is try to roll with the punches. I don’t mean real punches.  I mean...Well, you know what I mean. I will say that being willing to deal with those urges...I really do think all men have them...Has made me very rich.  So I think it all balances.  At least it did for me.

Skills: Composure, Manipulation and Presence at 4+ Striking looks+2 Fleet of foot+2  plenty of points chunked into socialize, subterfuge, persuasion, and investigation (Detective fiction specialty) Probably could claim a dot or two in Science and medicine (poisons as a specialty naturally.) Has never used a pistol to kill anyone, but is skilled in its use. Just in case.  HAS used a taser on more than one occasion. Morgan was especially egregious and he had to have certain things EXPLAINED to him before he was going to die...in agony. No real serious combat ability, but she does seem to have a real knack for hitting her targets at a time and place when they are completely unable to respond or don’t see it coming.  

Gear: Bought one of those funky rings like the Italian noblewomen supposedly used to poison their husbands. Damn thing turned out to be useful.

Has the typical smartphone and a purse that is functionally useless for holding anything larger than a condom and a lipstick.

Home: Palatial. She can afford it. but often leased instead of bought, that way, if she has to de-camp for any reason, she’s not out the price of a house.  Often she’ll lease a little bolt-hole with enough clothes, cash, and make-up to completely erase her former identity. She’ll also keep the professionally made fake IDs and passports in a metal box along with a pistol.

Circle: Tends to surround herself with the rich and intelligent.  Over the course of time, she’s learned that dumb and rich are a lot harder to work. Whereas intelligent people are convinced that they could never be taken in. Many of the “BFF’s” in her circle secretly loathe her. She is aware of this and it amuses her. But it’s a sad fact that if it weren’t for Frenemies and potential suitors, she’d have no one to talk to.

Story Uses:

“Are you enjoying your drink?”

It’s entirely possible that some PC or even an NPC might connect up with Lorna as an entrée into the high society set. It could be the stuff of high comedy if Lorna takes it into her head to marry the PC, and then try to off him. Lorna has less invested emotionally in that sort of relationship than in her shoes, so if you give her the “Let’s just be friends” speech, she’ll shrug and go on about her business.

“ Oh god. It was all so sudden.”

PC’s might be in the unenviable position of having to unravel a series of murders among the movers and shakers in town. Lorna is careful and knowledgeable. She’s a maven for any crime show on TV and has read a LOT of detective fiction. She varies her M.O. and works pretty hard to make everything look like an accident. (Except for Morgan. He was a special case.)

“You know. I feel like I have finally come home at last.”

It’s funny. If Lorna were to marry into one of the families involved in  The Vermillion House,  They’d invite her to the inner circle. Like, yesterday.

Connections:

* Lillian Penobscot is one of those women who is essentially one of her "Frenemies" While something about Lorna rubs Lillian the wrong way, she has to admit to herself that she's got great taste and her desire to fill her place with art is keeping the gallery in the black. So they make nice and chatter about society things without sharing any of their deeper secrets.

* Norman Cayce is liable to catch the case if she should ply her feminine wiles to deleterious effect upon the town's menfolk.  It's better than even odds that he'll catch forensic evidence that others would miss.

Lewis Flowers sees her in dreams occasionally. Oh, what he would give to meet and master this one. He would give much... Oh yes.

John Patmos

Concept: Living Personification of the Prophecy of the Apocalypse

AKA: None

Desc: Presents as a fairly average caucasian male. Average height, average weight. Brown hair. dark eyes. Pleasant smile. Low musical voice. Dresses relatively low key. Tends to go in for darker colors. Looks decent in jeans and a black turtleneck. He used to look like a greek male but had to change his appearance because it made it difficult for him to travel. Too many people mistook him for a Muslim.

History: What most people don’t understand is that the collective unconscious has a certain amount of metaphysical heft. What in the fuck is that supposed to mean, I imagine you opining...Well. It means that even people who don’t believe in astrology might end up getting jacked up by Mercury going into retrograde.  It’s because certain types of superstition have sunk so deeply into our cultures that they affect us even though their root causes may be entirely spurious.  But I'm not bitter. (He said bitterly while wearing a bitter expression and drinking vodka and lemonade.)

Because the collective unconscious HAS this metaphorical heft, it is a fairly serious affair when an idea becomes ingrained in enough of the people that share it. Prophecies, especially well-known ones tend to spawn spirits that personify their fulfillment.  They tend to go about their tasks looking forward to the day when they can be complete.

John is a whole order of magnitude above that level of manifestation.

Technically, He’s sort of a cross between a potent spirit and a kind of Sin-Eater.  He has a physical form and a spiritual form. Both are persistent. By this, I mean that John is effectively immortal. You can kill the physical body but this is essentially just an annoyance and if he wants to he can form another body the next day. In fact, many times, some of his more active plans, involve the demise of his physical form and this can be a real shock to those who aren’t exactly ready for that. Powerful spirit magic can actually damage him and imprison him for a time, but since he draws his power from the collective unconscious, it erodes those prisons (in the same way that paradox might) and he escapes them.  It is interesting to note that once he was arrested on a weapons charge in Alabama and sent to the state penitentiary for 5 years, and for some reason didn’t bother to kill himself or escape.

Fortunately, for a whole host of beings, John never takes any of that personally.  In fact, he tends to respect those people and creatures who stand against him. After all, they are a sign from his “Father” that the time is not yet at hand.  John tends to act towards these people as if he’s simply enjoying a good game of chess with them, that he’s inevitably going to win...but he still enjoys the conversation.

So what exactly does John DO with the vast swaths of time he has?  He goes back and forth on various errands, managing his enormous fortune, purchasing biotech firms for his various special projects. Building a dedicated cult for the furtherance of his goals. Visiting with various entities and networking.  Constantly on the go.  After all. The worlds not going to end itself.  You should understand, though, that John understands that he has to play the long game.  If he wanted the nuclear launch codes, he could, of course, get them. But it would not create the apocalypse he has specifically been created to bring about. Same goes for global warming.

Attitude:  “Let me see if I can explain this properly. I would hate for you to die without understanding why. It seems rude to me. There are these special people. They are called Tzadikim.  They are special souls.  Souls of a special purity. They are, essentially like the pillars that hold up this existence. As long as these righteous souls exist in the world, then it can’t actually end. The judgment can’t be rendered.  

Now I recognize that I may never be able to get ALL of them at once, but my work is SO much more possible when these people are off the count, or out of play.  Hence, the vest covered in explosives.

Them?  

OH darling child, no.  None of the other passengers matter a bit.  I came for you, stewardess...”

Skills: Never bothers with combat skills except for some defensive merits. His main skill is a certain hypnotic magnetism that enables him to create and further a loose confederation of doomsday cults and Christian sects that might as well be doomsday cults.  His social skills are off the charts.

While essentially mortal and requiring air, food, and water to continue existing, John does not need to sleep and non-mortal damage will eventually regenerate

Gear: Even the living personification of the end of the world has a smartphone. There’s just so many people that one needs to reach out to.

Home: When John “Dies” he normally reforms on a rocky outcropping on the greek isle of Patmos.  The amount of time that it takes to reform is variable. Sometimes, it’s fast, sometimes whole lunar cycles can pass before he can re-enter the physical realm.  There may be some astrological significance here.  The natives of Patmos are certainly aware of the white man who speaks perfect Greek and only wears black. There are theories. Most of them are entirely correct. Nobody bothers that guy.

Circle: There are a lot of people who want to die. There are a lot of people who want other people to be judged so that they can watch. These people make up the leaders of the various cults that John has his hands into. As you can imagine, there is some power and money to be had behind this, but for the most part, all John has them do is acquire things for him, or occasionally do things.  He seems to have an unlimited stream of money that he plows into projects.  One of his inner circle asked him where all the money was coming from and he said, “Well. Money is just an idea and I may know a thing or two about ideas...Or if it makes you feel better, I have my hooks into Pentagon black projects.  Some people seem to think that Judgement day will only be coming for nations outside the United States.  *Sighs*  That’s a bit foolish really.”

Story Uses:

“I am not the end of all things. I am merely its harbinger.”

John Patmos is the kind of antagonist that really has no antagonism towards the players. He’s not there to make them suffer or die in horrible ways, he is merely a personification of the inevitable ending of human existence and the judgment of souls. It’s the entirety of his being. Other than that he’s a decent guy for the most part.  He’s even weirdly good with kids.

“Why here? I don’t know...It’s just a feeling I have.”

So why is a globe-hopping personification of the Prophecy of the Revelation hanging around THIS town?  Even John doesn’t know exactly. His work takes him all over but time after time, he keeps coming back here...He’s not sure why.

Connections:

* Milo Karanikas has driven him on a few occasions. They've had interesting conversations. The weird thing about Mr. Patmos is that he has a philosophical streak that his other clients lack.

* Holmes, Gillis, Baker, Savage, North, and Dean handles a number of things for Mr. Patmos.  Occasionally it's getting certain cultist off for various charges, other times it involves the acquisitions of goods, services, real estates, and the establishment of corporations and trust funds.

* Occasionally, John needs to know things. While his spiritual powers can usually help him learn things quickly, occasionally he cannot handle these things directly because of spiritual constraints or time constraints.  So he'll sub-contract to Aldous Church. He thinks that Aldous would make a good Horseman.

* Once, He bought Charlie a bottle of decent whiskey and they sat on a park bench and talked till the sun came up. Neither came away from that talk entirely satisfied.