Maurice Van Rensalear

Concept: Food Critic from Hell.

AKA: Known to the people who work in the foodservice by a number of colorful sobriquets. The least offensive one that is relatively common is “The Scalpel”

Desc: The sort of fellow who is tubby enough that you can hear it over the phone when he pronounces the letter “B”  Double chin and working on number three. Hair plugs, and to be fair, they ARE coming nicely. He still has a wisp or two of his original blond hair. Sweats a lot. pudgy little fingers that force him to decry the state of the young people these days, because he fumble fingers a LOT when he tries to text on his phone. Gimlet eyes. Trifocals. Gets winded easily unless he’s arguing. Then, somehow, he can go all goddamn night.  Goes in for the “Academic with Money” look. Favors a bowtie generally.  Can pull off a velvet dinner jacket. Nice watch and polished wingtips.

History: Some people have a bit of luck in finding their passion. With Maurice it was writing. He’s decent at it. Don’t misunderstand me.  The novels he keeps revising aren’t half bad. And he’s quite good at research. He’s picked up a lot on the job, and if it weren’t for his attitude he might make a decent journalist.  He’s got an English degree from a fairly prestigious ivy league school.

His current gig came about as a favor to a friend. Over the years, newspapers have been cutting back on their staff’s. One of the feature writers was overworked and scheduled to pull food critic duty on a night when he was also scheduled to do Music Critic duty for a rare Foo Fighters gig at The Witness.   Being a Foo Fan, it was easy to see which way that was going to go.  Maurice has always fancied himself something of a foody, and so, at his friends insistence, he went to Pain et Vin and then went home to talk about the experience.

    To say that Maurice has a positive gift for invective is to undersell the many years of complaining and bitching that honed his craft. The friend was horrified, mainly because it was so utterly devastating, but even he had to admit it was well written..and since he had nothing else to hand in, he took it to his editor and explained about the favor.

   The Editor read it over three times, and then he said. “I want to talk to this man.”

Pain et Vin was shuttered within a month.

While Maurice has family money and need never lift a finger, the idea of being a feature writer appealed to him. I mean, it certainly would. You can be mean to people and they can’t really do anything to you in return and you collect a paycheck in the bargain? It would be vulgar to say, “Sign me up!”  But Maurice’s back-brain was doing a happy dance. Quite possibly the Macarena. it’s one of the few dances Maurice can do.

     Maurice is sort of a wunderkind in this respect. He’s an awful person but he’s capable of being nice long enough to ingratiate himself to powerful people. His command of the English language fills many poor restaurant owners with fear and indignation. He’s even managed to have himself featured on local television and while he comes off as snotty, sweaty, and a touch desperate. It hasn’t dampened his dreams of getting his own food network show.

   And you know, He just might. His family has money, and he’s a member of The Vermillion House. They are always on the prod to promote one of their own to the vaunted rarified circles of the world. In fact, They are thinking very seriously about asking him to join the inner circle...Which will certainly be a new culinary experience for him.  It turns out that he and Lennox Van Doren ended up having a long and interesting argument about Asian cuisine one evening in the Billiard Room and ever since, they’ve been somewhat chummy.

Attitude: “Look dear, the fact here is that this isn’t Haute Cuisine. It’s a Haute Mess. And I’ll be saying so in my column tomorrow...”

Skills: It’s pretty obvious that physically, he’s not much at all. The only use he’d be in a firefight is as ablative cover. Intellectually, he’s got a great education. he can talk knowledgable about food, wine, art, culture, and even a little bit about journalism. It should be noted that no one else in the newsroom thinks he’s a journalist.

He’s not stupid and on those occasions when deigns to talk politics, He says that Libertarianism is a fraud and the GOP died a horrible twitching death when they stopped listening to William F. Buckley.  He’s very firm on that.

Socially, he’s complicated. He’s okay in short bursts but as people get to know him they tend to like him less and less. He has a few staunch friends, most of whom are as rich and lily white like himself.  He is as closeted as they come. (“Father wouldn’t approve.”)

and yet he always has model pretty women on his arm.  (Mostly, they’re there because he isn’t interested in screwing them and the food is pretty good.)

Dress it up however you like, He’s a cheap little thug who uses his words to beat up people who can’t hit back. Okay, Maybe “Cheap” isn’t exactly the word...but he is that sort of dude.

Depending on how deep you feel he is into the Vermillion House, he may have a hedge magic template of some sort, and a dot or two of occult. He’s a beginner. He does however pick up things pretty quick.  He’ll be likely to have a Heightened Sense (Taste) He’s actually pretty good at discerning extremely subtle flavors. It’s what led him to his foodie proclivities in the first place.

Gear: He carries a round container of french raspberry pastiles as a palette cleanser. Uses Siri on his phone to dictate notes and mail his copy to the newsroom. (Say what you will, He’s never missed a deadline.) he is never without at least two silk handkerchiefs and he still wears a watch, (A Phillipe Patek that his father gave him.)

His wallet and business card case are black suede. Unless it’s the dead of summer, he also favors a black cashmere scarf.

Home:

Circle: Nearly all of his social circle are rich white folks. Uptight. A few of them closeted like him. The occasional well paid rent boy, a few people he knows from college, friends of his family, and his “Ladyfriends” and that’s about it. Granted, his familial connections have some juice and his own dabbling with the Vermillion House will likely pay off.

Story Uses:

“I wouldn’t feed this to my dog.”

Occasionally, you might need to have someone be your entrée to the high society set. Maurice can get you in the door, and all you have to do is keep your eyes closed to the way that he treats people who are his inferiors.  And the reason why most people seem to chill on him eventually, is that he feels, deep down where it counts, that ALL people are his inferiors. So yeah. He knows all the right names. He knows all the right parties. He is wired in.  But even rich unlikeable pricks look upon Maurice Van Rensalear with a certain amount of disdain. Not really enough to exclude him...but you know.  Perhaps even The Vermillion House will realize that it is about to clasp an asp to it’s bosom...Or it’s possible that with them he will truly find his purpose.  As a true power broker...or as an entrée himself.

“Ugh! Did this come from a CAN?”

On the other hand, it might just be that your friends or your PC is involved in the foodservice business and you desire the sort of justice that only can come with feeding this guy his own entrails...But then again, it will involve rich people looking into the matter. Can’t be helped.

Connections:

* Temple of Athens Just the mention of the man's name is enough to send Rhea into paroxysms of livid spitting rage.

* Surrender Dorothy "Father REALLY wouldn't approve." Suffice it to say, he's a regular.

* Blaise Newkirk Maurice considers Blaise to be one of his very best friends. Blaise considers Maurice useful but occasionally tiresome.

* Ralston Van Doren " I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON HIM! You take that back this instant!"

* Frederick Wyngarde  "My best friend from college. I'm a little envious of his writing. Has the palette of a german shepherd, but we can't have everything can we?"

* Meredith Shaw One of the few people who honestly likes Maurice. She is, of course, one of his primary "Ladyfriends" because there is exactly nothing that they like better than to eat well and talk shit about all the people they know."

* Lorna Crane "Trying too hard."

* Lillian Penobscot "Also, trying too hard. But you never heard that from me."

August Ulascewitz

Concept: The Guy from Animal Control

AKA: Nobody really calls him “Augustus” even though that is the name on his birth certificate. Mama just liked the way it sounded and since Daddy was long gone by the time he turned up, she got to name him what she wanted. But people refer to him interchangeably as either “Gus” or “Augie” 

Desc: Bulky framed and not terribly tall. Lousy posture. Normally encountered wearing a dark navy coverall and a beat-up yellow ball cap (which has a tiny battery in the back and switch that turns on the two bead-like LED lights on the edge of the cap’s brim.)  Broken capillaries and ruddy complexion attest to his habit of putting away a six Miller High Life nearly every other night. Wristwatch and heavy black shoes with non-slip tread. Squinty eyes and a way of talking like the words are falling out of the side of his mouth. Losing his hair, and just a slight amount of his eyesight too. He is thinking about getting contacts. His hands look like he’s worked on a lot of cars or punched a lot of faces. 

History: Gus is one of those guys who never seems to catch a break. The sort of fella that Tom Waits and Bruce Springsteen have made a fortune writing about. They never had much growing up. But Gus loved his mom and his older sister Rita. And they loved him.  He went to school, wasn’t much of a student and this shocked exactly no one. Played football, but not well enough that anyone wanted to pay him to do it or send him to a nice school.

He got a gig working for Animal Control because a drinking buddy recommended him for it. Gus settled into the job which had a distinct lack of schedule or routine. Also, it paid decently and there were government bennies. He even got Government holidays off, but of course, had to stay on call, just in case.  Of course, if he had to fetch a raccoon out of somebodies crawlspace on Christmas day, well...it was double time and he’d shrug his shoulders and do it.

    Gus has stories. He’s actually a pretty decent storyteller now because it’s one of the best ways to pass on the bulk of the accumulated knowledge of the Animal Control staff to the FNG’s coming in the door. Also, it’s a good way to pass the time. As time wore, he got more seniority and now he’s essentially the most senior guy they’ve got. They’d promote him except for the fact that while Gus is a generally gentle soul, he has some pretty regressive attitudes. The sort of attitudes that have kept Animal Control a “boys club” and occasionally causes him to start a thought with the phrase, “Now, I’m not a racist, but...”

      The sad thing is that Gus is coming up on retirement and he strenuously resists doing any thinking about what he’s going to do after he doesn’t have the AC office to come into every day. Most guys that Gus knows who have retired were dead or dying within a month of it.

it should be noted that while Payton Breckinridge is likely to notice patterns of weirdness in the animal kingdom of PC Town, Gus is far more likely to have to deal with whatever is happening up close and personal. It’s too bad they don’t know one another because if they ever compared notes, things could get “interesting” real quick.

Attitude: “Look you stupid fucknut. I’m going ta explain this real slow because you went to school on the little bus.  By the time we’ve gotten the fucking call, the animal in question is already frightened out of his tiny mind. Do you understand that fucknut?  He or she is terrified. if not for his or her own life, then for the life of their offspring.  Fear will fuck you up pretty good. When was the last time you made a GOOD decision when you was scared out of your tits? Hah?

So go slow. soothe with your voice, don’t move suddenly unless you have to MOVE. and be as fucking gentle as you fucking can. Get me?”

Skills: I won’t lie, Gus is far from a paragon of physicality. He’s got no wind to speak of and since he’s been smoking since junior high and is creeping up on 60 now, That’s not likely to change. He’s got some muscle under all that fat but again, a flight of stairs can wind him a bit.  However, it should be noted that he has a LOT of quick. He’s actually caught a venomous snake in mid-strike. (Not that he wants to make a habit of THAT.)  Socially, Gus is something of a loner. He’s had a few women in his life, but none that seemed to want to stick around for the long haul. Most of the people he knows work in the same government building where AC hangs its hat. Although, because of the nature of the work, Gus and the rest of his crew eat all over town. I mean, it’s not like these guys are FOODIES or anything like that, but get them onto the topic of ‘Best Sammich in town” and things could get complicated and heated. As a result, Gus and his crew are usually on a first-name basis with a lot of food vendors in town.

Mentally. Well, it’s like this. He’s got an obscene amount of Animal Ken obviously, with lots of specialties loaded onto it. He’s got some dots of Medicine and Science to the point of knowing whether to call a vet or not. (Also, he’s become something of a backdoor entomologist)  he’s got the kind of smart that doesn’t exactly look like smart because most of it is come by through experience rather book learning. He might even have a dot or two of investigation.

He’ll have a couple of dots of weaponry for the gear he carries below. He is very likely to have "Common Sense" as a merit

Gear: Flip-phone but with a blue-tooth earpiece. Pocketknife, Roll of tape, Tool bag, Ketch-All Dog noose, Pepper-Spray,  Stun baton.(Always his last resort, unless a human being is the problem.)

Home: Gus has a trailer home. It’s a single wide. He doesn’t need a lot of room for himself and he’s not terribly sentimental about anything, so he doesn’t really hang on to much. He likes detective and spy fiction but never bothers with having his own bookshelf, He just goes over to the book exchange and trades for new stuff. He doesn’t have to very often. He doesn’t read terribly fast.   He has a relatively nice TV, but not so nice that someone else in the trailer park is going to make off with it.  He keeps a fish tank in his bedroom though and he finds it utterly soothing to watch the fish until he nods off. 

Periodically, his sister Rita turns up and ends up crashing in the other bedroom until she takes up with some new asshole. Rita’s taste in men is somewhat suspect.  Technically, Rita now owes Gus about 10,000 dollars in back rent. She swears she’s gonna pay him back. Really!

Circle: Other than the guys in his crew, Gus is not really a fan of people. This is one of those things that he shares in common with Dr. Breckinridge. He likes the animals better, and frankly, if Gus ever bumped into the gravy train, or settled down with someone with someone with money AND sense, he’d have a number of his own.

Story Uses:

“Shh! Do you smell something?”

If something is going on with a potentially wild or rabid animal, Gus is liable to turn up just like a homicide detective is going to turn up if someone finds a corpse.  Weirdly, it’s like he’s in his element.   If you like, maybe he even has some weird gift of animal empathy, or the ability to chill them out with a touch.

In any event, Gus falls squarely into the category of “A Guy who has SEEN some Shit.” He may know fuck-all about the supernatural world, but you never know when an event might spur him to talk to some experts or check out some weird books from the University library.

“...And that’s when I snapped your honor.”

Gus cannot abide cruelty to animals. If he finds that he’s been called to corral an animal, and then the owner starts beating it in front of him...Well. the Stun Baton is coming out, and as I may have mentioned, he’s far quicker than he looks. More than one defense attorney in an animal cruelty case has discovered to their shock that Gus is a steamroller of an expert witness. Has his “I’s” dotted and his “T’s” crossed and speaks very well. Capable of moving a jury with his compassion.

Connections:

* Rita and Krieger used to date. If Gus sees Krieger moving in his direction. He will assume that Krieger is there to kill him and will react accordingly. Both of them are likely to be dead at the end of the fight. Krieger, for his part barely remembers Rita.

* Alex Mahoney's radio program usually touches off interesting debates in the AC office. Attitudes go back and forth on issues depending on who's been laid recently and who's hungover this morning.

* Robert Nathan Herbert is a cousin or something. Helped with the financing on his pick-up truck.

* Rita considers Ezekiel Stubbs to be "The one that got away"  Of the guys that Rita's been with, Gus hates him least. 

* The guys on the Animal Control crew LOVE Rory O'Halloran. Love him to pieces.  They keep up with his truck's location on Facebook. Irish cuisine. Who knew?

Officer Karl Richter

Concept: Enthusiastic Hero

AKA: Some of the other officers in the area have taken to calling Karl, A.P.B. which stands for “Aryan Poster Boy”.  Karl is thankfully unaware of this. he wouldn’t take it well.

Desc:  Regulation short blond hair, blue eyes, strong jaw. He does weights every other day, and he does NOT skip “leg day”. He probably could be a professional body builder. He’s on the tall side. He has a nice smile and he’s got a voice that seems to be naturally loud and clear. No ink. One diamond stud earring, given to him by an old girlfriend, that he’s sentimental about.

History: Karl is the sort of guy who was raised on a steady diet of heroism in the books and media he’s consumed all his life. He reads, even if most of what he reads is junk, He loved comic books growing up, and that also lead him to a steady interest in things like spy novels and books on Mythology. His younger brother Mike was plagued by health problems all during his childhood, and so Mike and Karl and their sister Elsa became interested in Advanced Dungeons and Dragons. It was like meat and drink to him.

    There is something about Karl that just flips his on switch when it comes to doing the right thing. It came out in all sorts of ways.  On those occasions when Mike or Elsa got bullied, Karl would wade in and sort those fuckers out. Once, he beat up a couple of kids so badly, that they had to call a cop and the cop gave the young man a stern talking to.  But, that “Stern Talking To” had a subtext of, “Hey kid, don’t tell nobody, but you did right to beat up those shitbirds”.  From middle school onwards, Karl wanted to be a cop

He grew up. Ditched AD&D in favor of football practice and got big and broad. Got out of school and applied directly to the academy. While he struggled occasionally with the actual coursework, no one could touch him physically. He was out on the streets and “protecting and serving” in no time flat.

He loves his work. Truly. He doesn’t WANT to become a dick someday.  He might think seriously about moving up in the line officer ranks and maybe someday he’d consider SWAT. But on a day to day basis, being out on the streets is where he wants to be. And he has the commendations to prove it.

And that would likely have been all I would have to tell you. But something happened a couple of years ago. Karl was answering a call about a missing child. he’d talked to the mother and had taken the information and had this weird sense of déjà vu while it was taking place. As if he’d dreamed about it some night ago. This feeling bothered him as he was sitting in his cruiser.  When he heard...No FELT... a child screaming somewhere in the immediate vicinity. Karl never needs prompting in this regard. He was up and moving in no time flat. 

     He felt the sound coming from a nearby underground parking garage. That sense of deja vu getting stronger as he went. He entered and descended and rounding a corner saw some homeless person dragging a fat kid, an iron grip around his neck. The vagrant turned around, and there was something in his eyes. A horrified recognition. And then his jaw broke open and split and horrific squealing/hissing noise came from him.

     Complete freaked out, Karl drew and fired his weapon, emptying his clip. The thing dropped the fat kid and ran deeper into the bowels of the parking garage. Karl chased him. Running into some area deep below the city as if the vagrant had hewn the place out of the rock himself. Finally cornered, the creature attacked Karl, and Karl, by this point somewhat pissed as well as afraid, emptied another clip into the thing and then when it was down, beat it to death with his snap baton.

    He walked out a changed and somewhat re-energized man. Trying to figure his next move, he realized that the tunnels he had chased the creature had disappeared. There was exactly no evidence that that thing had ever existed. The fat kid had already run home.

    That night, Karl, a lifelong insomniac, slept deeply for the first time in many years. and there were no vivid dreams to trouble him.  The next day, his day off, he went up into the attic and got down all his old AD&D and mythology books.

Attitude:  “Look, brother, All I’m saying is... This world is more complicated than we think it is. There’s so much going on and we almost never have the whole story. So keep your head on a swivel, not just when you’re on the job...Like, all the time dude. All the time.”

Skills: Socially, Karl is a decent guy, and he’s got an average number of friends. He falls down a little on the extrovert side of things.  Mentally, He’s pretty average. He loves to read but as I say, much of what he reads is junk. He’s got at least a dot of Academics with a specialty in mythology. That, he’s garnered over the course of the last couple of years. he’s got a dot or two of Occult now. And of course, he’s got a couple of dots in Investigation and Interrogation. Comes with the territory, ya know?

   Physically, He’s a specimen. He’s quite strong, and he been working his cardio steadily to up his stamina. So far, he’s not so muscle-y that he’s lost flexibility and he’s got really good hand-eye coordination.  He’ll have all the dots of Police tactics Fighting Style, and he’s likely to have good dots of Brawl and weaponry.  He might also have a few dots of some gun-related fighting style and you wouldn’t be out of line to load him up with things like “Brawling dodge” or Disarm.

Sidebar: While you may be perfectly content to use Karl as he is off-the-shelf, you might also add to his sheet the template for a “Hero” from “Beast: the Primordial”  He certainly qualifies. He’s definitely slain at least one Beast and may have taken out more after a couple of years on the hunt.

Gear: Standard issue firearm, Holdout weapon on his ankle with frangible rounds. Taser, snap baton, Spyderco Clip-it. and all the rest of the standard issue cop gear. Karl normally keeps a roll of Sour Apple bubble tape on his person at all times. Ostensibly because he finds it helps with building a rapport with any children he should happen to meet during his work day, but mostly because he loves it himself. 

Home: He’s a got a nice place in burbs in a neighborhood where he actually knows all his neighbors and they know him. He shares his home with his wife Lucy and their four daughters. They have two Siberian Huskies who are rabidly protective of the girls. The entire house is adorned with motion sensor security lights and there is at least one camera dome (fake) above the back door on the patio.

Circle: Lucy’s the outgoing one. Mostly because she’s starved for interaction with adults. She works a job in her home office as an Account-Temp and while everyone in the neighborhood knows Karl, it’s Lucy they adore. Because transporting 4 baby girls back and forth is an enormous logistical undertaking, they aren’t as active in their church as they used to be. Uncle Mike and Aunt Elsa come around periodically and take up some slack so that they can go out to a movie every once in a while. Beyond that, most of the people Karl knows personally either live on the streets or have a badge.

Story Uses:

“The always tell us not to make promises to the victims. But I swear to you if there is a way to get this guy. I will get him.”

Beast hunter or no, It’s always nice to meet the occasional uniformed cop who is absolutely true blue...Unless of course, your own activities are a bit sketchy.

“There’s talk going around that maybe your case is a little on the “Weird” side. I’d like to help if I can.”

While Heroes and Hunter groups have an unusual dynamic, it doesn’t mean they can’t work together on occasion. After his parking garage problem, Karl told one other officer about what happened. Sgt. Parkhurst listened very carefully, and when it was all done, told Karl about The Union. Karl is aware of the members of The Union that also have a badge, or used to have one. When he can, he helps out.

Connections:

* "It's not like me to speak ill of a fellow officer but Officer Honus Brightwater is out of his depth in a parking lot puddle.

* Charlie  "He's ok.  I try to arrest him every time I see him unless he's really agitated about it. 

*" Detective Bela Janofski is definitely one of the good ones. I know most of his family. Dated his sister. Now she outranks me. Ain't that it?"

* Miss Virgie Hawkins " Love that old lady. Every once in a while I see her out with her ghost hunting friends. Man, if they only knew...

*" Officer Wesley Ullman is a good man and a good cop. His wife Nadine and mine are friends and his daughter Carly is practically a member of my family. I do think, though, that maybe he ought to switch to beer more often."