Captain Roy Gunderson

Concept: Smuggler

AKA: Most people just know him as “Cap” Although there are a few who refer to him, behind his back as “Captain Smelly”.

Desc:  Leanish and tallish. Perpetual scowl hidden behind an impressive beard. Blonde, with a bit of gray here and there. Mild tremors in his fingers from nerve damage over the years.  Wears work boots and a large black pea coat with a black watch cap. Most people wouldn’t necessarily recognize him without that gear on or off his boat for that matter.

History: Roy made a mistake.  And it was pretty big one. And he, being raised Catholic, has let it haunt him his entire life.  Once, when he was a much younger man, He was in love with a young woman, and she, for her part, was in love with him. And they, being young and Catholic...Well. They loved one another.

Oh sure...They did...lots of things that weren’t the exact thing. But eventually, they’d done all that.  And, as I said, they loved each other.  They were going to be together and all that. SO. Eventually,  Yeah. At the drive-in movies,of all places.

   And you know, Roy would have married her. He did love her. He was scared shitless of course, he was super young and not at all ready to be a father. But he was going to try by god. Their parents all shook their heads and there were occasional bitter tears.

   She got big. She got round. And you know, as time went by, he began to get a bit excited about his life with her and their child. And there isn’t a day that goes by that he doesn’t tell himself that he might have made a good father. There really isn’t a day that goes by that he doesn’t miss her.

   But she came back from the doctor with the news that she was going to give birth to triplets. And all of a sudden, it was all very real, and very close, and insurmountable.

And he ran. He hopped a freighter and signed on with the Merchant Marines. He went with the idea that he would learn a trade and then maybe go back and beg her forgiveness and raise their children.  He got in touch with his brother and let him know where he was and what was happening, so his parents wouldn’t worry.

When he got the letter back from him, he found that his girl had tried to abort the babies herself and died of peritonitis. And because of the way she’d died, The church wouldn’t allow her to be buried on hallowed ground. So her parents were in something of a state, as you could imagine. And if he were to come home, her father and brothers were likely to kill him.

He tried to kill himself that night. They found him more quickly than he expected.  Several months later, he tried again. But again he wasn’t successful. He began to get the idea that God had turned his face away from him and that the only way he could just die would be naturally. He also reasoned, that she was in hell and if he committed suicide, he’d be forced to face her. He wasn’t sure he could ever face her again.

He stayed in the service, made money, spent virtually nothing on himself and banked it. Eventually, he rose in rank, because he never complained, and banked more money that way. Eventually, when he mustered out, he had a nice chunk of change, and nowhere to go really. Finally, he ended up buying his own boat.

He bought a garbage scow. It was the only thing he could afford to buy completely. He really didn’t feel like he deserved better either.  He rehabbed the crew quarters into a decent space and crewed the ship all by himself.  When he was making decent money back on his investment, he started going to see someone about his guilt. His priest eventually pointed him in the direction of a shrink who gave him some medicine to keep his clinical depression at bay.

At one point there was a bit of a cash-flow problem, but Roy knew some people, and those people occasionally wanted things moved over the open water without anyone being the wiser. Guns. Drugs. Trade-goods. Things like that. Occasionally, his conscience would bother him about the merchandise he was moving, but it turned out he was actually pretty good at it and the money was fantastic.  

Roy actually has a rare “gift” He is completely anosmic. He has exactly zero sense of smell. On the rare occasions, that the coast guard has actually boarded him, the smell of his boat is so eye-wateringly awful that they usually just let him go as fast as they can get his story out of him.  That’s by design. The smell is a saucy melange of custom made stink brewed up in the head below-decks. It’s made with stink bomb juice, rancid grease, fecal matter, and water from the bilge. Things that want smuggling are usually shrink-wrapped and tossed under a tarp that has been treated with this stuff. He’s even gone to the lengths of making the tarp look like the rest of the garbage on the deck.

Roy keeps going. He drinks more than he should. He also doesn’t seem to have a good idea of what to do with his money. He’s banked quite a bit and sent some home to his relations. He reads a lot and lavish’s affection on his tiny kitten.  But he’s really just marking time. All he really wants is to check out, and if that comes from piloting into a storm, or getting caught and shot by the Coast Guard.  That’s just fine with him. Maybe God will let him go to hell in Susan’s place. It’d be worth it to him.

Attitude: “Kid. The open water is a dangerous place. It will eat you alive if you stop paying attention to it for longer than a second. So you have to be mindful. Also, you’ll get a lot farther as a professional sailor if you simply stop complaining about the way things are. This is a hard life and it weeds out those who aren’t able to work hard or pay attention.”

Skills: Loads of stamina and composure. Can drive most water-borne vessels that require only a single operator. Has been in a few fights over the years and has a respectable number of brawl dots and weaponry dots. Bought a Barrett light 50 in case he runs afoul of pirates. Fortunately for him, you don’t have to be all that accurate with one of those. All you have to do is be able to lift the damn thing. Which he can do. He got some dots of crafts for jury rigging the boat’s systems.  and a couple of dots of Computer (He’d go insane without SOME connection. His membership in a forum that discusses Clinical depression issues is pretty much his lifeline.

He also got a few dots of expression with a specialization in poetry.  His computer on the ship holds 25 years of unpublished poetry. He’s left a note in his computer that if any member of his family finds it, they should erase every bit of it.  This would actually be a terrible loss.

Gear: Rarely without a package of fisherman’s friend.,A roll of quarters that’s been well taped, and a nice leather journal. He keeps a bag at the company where he berths that scow of his. He knows his normal work gear is terribly smelly from mere proximity, so he keeps a stash of clothing off the boat entirely. He has a flip phone. He wears a money belt as a matter of course.  Although the kid who pulled a knife on him outside The Cove ended up getting himself beat to a pulp.

Home: As mentioned, He lives aboard the scow. He’s actually done a pretty decent job on the interior of the crew deck. The original boat had five full bunks, but he’s only ever needed two of them for added crew. He pilots the boat himself and does all the work on it himself.  He occasionally takes on crew for certain bits of smuggling. Normally those guys have some breathing/Filtering apparatus so they can work above decks.  Even below-decks there is a lingering stench that one can eventually become scent-blind to.

Roy doesn’t really cook all that much.  Anosmia tends to do a number on your taste receptors too. He could conceivably live on oatmeal and ramen for the rest of his life. But he does have a pantry on board and keeps a host of foodstuff that can sit for months without spoiling. Which is good. He wouldn’t necessarily notice if it did.

Circle: Roy’s IRL circle is pretty small. Sailors. Criminals. That’s pretty much it.  He does have an online presence in a number of fora dedicated to Catholicism, Depression, and poetry.  He never ever talks about his IRL job.

Story Uses:

“Me. I simply don’t care. You want that moved, it will cost you this much. I don’t haggle.”

Got something that you need taken to a Liberian registry vessel just out past the 13-mile limit. Roy will be your guy.  Also: He doesn’t give a fuck about who you think you are. He has a price. You meet it, and he’ll get it there. Draw a gun or knife on him. He’ll stare at you until you put away.

“The Ocean...Well. Let’s just say I’ve seen a few things.”

And he has. You might turn into a large wolfy engine of destruction and he might not even blink.  But even better, Roy knows the waters around this city like the back of his hand. If you’re looking for transport to someplace weird out on the water, odds are good that he already knows where it is. and isn’t scared to go there for some reason.

Connections:

*Has made professional contact with Ezekiel Stubbs and Homer Conway from regular gun shipments into the country from Ireland.

* Schuyler Lavey once hired him to move 500 pounds of tusk ivory for some reason. Seemed to think it was very cool to have "his" own smuggler.

* Has done work and once, even earned a favor from Don Pentangelli. He's nervous about cashing it in. (But if he did he'd lean on the parish priest to get Susan re-interred in holy ground. He's just squeamish about having Mafiosi leaning on priests.)

*For the longest time, Clarinda Hale's parents kept Roy in their Rolodex as an extreme ex-fill option. Clarinda knows about him but they've never actually met. He's just a number on a card marked, "If you have to get out of the country, call this man."

*Similarly, Marcie Hawkins has him in under "Exit-Stage-Left"