Christine Horowitz

Concept: Public Defender

AKA: Known to her sorority sisters as “Spex” SOMEHOW it managed to get around her office. Thanks, Tiffy!

Desc: On the short side, Keeps trying to get to the gym fairly regular but her work schedule fights her tooth and nail. She’s still got some good muscle definition but her job entails a lot of study, and she eats too much fast food. Wears sneakers in the office, heels for court. Long black hair and a nice smile. Her eyes still have a bit of fire in them, but she’s starting to feel a little worn around the edges. Tiny gold star of David that used to belong to her mother.

History: Christine is the only child and it appears that she inherited her father’s unerring moral compass. In fact, she flirted with the idea of becoming a Rabbi just like dad, but it turned out to not be such a good fit for her. The idea though of putting her intelligence and her natural bookishness to work for her was still a strong one and she sort of fell in love with the idea of becoming a public defender. Righting wrongs. Defending the defenseless. There was a rightness to the idea. She went to law school and while she had the kind of grades that normally would have put her on track to be a judge, she ended up signing up to become a PD as soon as she had passed the bar.

The romance of being a public defender wore off very quickly. She knew that there would be long hours. She knew that her case load would be...non-trivial.  She even knew that there would be clients who were plainly guilty of all manner of things and that she would have to defend them. She was prepared for that.  What she wasn’t prepared for, the raw number of people caught in the gears of the Justice system and ground right the fuck down. She wasn’t prepared for how badly it would hurt. I mean, Christine is a damn good lawyer, most of her colleagues say so. But many times her clients are caught with precious few actual choices, and almost none of them good.  When the best you can do for someone who is innocent is a guilty plea for less time and THAT seems like the best the client can expect...it takes a little piece of your heart. It takes a little piece of you each time.   

If you’re someone who cares.  

Christine cares. 

It’s leading to a certain amount of “compassion fatigue” for her, and a certain amount of having to compartmentalize her feelings. About once a week, she finds herself sobbing uncontrollably in her car after court.  She’s worried that she’s going to have some kind of breakdown, and her parents see through the act she puts on when she goes to visit. They’re worried for her too.  Maybe if she got on with a firm defending people, but people with real money...Would that be so bad?

  And Christine knows...No. It wouldn’t be so bad. But what would all the really poor people, who need a good lawyer, do?

Attitude: “Look. You have no good options here. You can try to peddle that weak sauce story in front of a jury, and then the D.A. will go to work on you like there’s a three day weekend coming up, or you take the deal and you take protective custody and you’re out in 6 months. Assuming, of course, you can keep your nose clean.”

Skills: Academics4+ with a specialty in Law naturally, and the status to go with being licensed and working for the PD office. She’ll kill you on facts in court. She’s damn good at research. But she also has a gift for making complex facts pretty simple and not sleep- inducing to a jury. (Give her some dots of Expression. and her socials are pretty decent too)  Also, since members of the PD’s office occasionally find themselves in tense or violent situations with tense or violent clients, they’ve actually chipped loose some budget for some self-defense courses and target range time.  As a result. Christine has a couple of dots in firearms and Brawl. with dots in Krav Maga as a style. (A cousin of hers runs a school.)  It’s come in handy.  They look at her diminutive frame and think they can come on all heavy...and then suddenly they are on the floor with their testicles kicked clear up into their sinus cavity. Speaks fluent, almost idiomatic Spanish and on those rare occasions when she has a real honest night off, she likes to blow off steam dancing, and she’s a pretty good dancer.

Gear: Her laptop bag is a tiny arsenal. She owns a Glock, Has a can of pepper spray, and one of those pointy key-chain deals. She also has a black belt in iPhone. She has certain law books loaded onto her phone for quick reference.

Home: She’s got a fairly nice apartment. She’s taken to purchasing foreign appliances, not because she’s a snob about buying American, but because Scandinavians manufacture stuff that takes up very little space. And frankly, so much of her apartment is taken up with books, that space has to come from somewhere.  She’s thought about getting a pet of some sort, but she’s home so seldom, that she’s afraid that they’d die of loneliness.

Circle:Known to judges and fellow lawyers as a decent sport and fairly good at her work. Has a few friends in low places based on people she’s defended in court. But by that same token, has a few enemies. (Yeah, never mind that you kept sticking up gas n’ go’s, it’s all HER fault you’re in the state pen... Asshole.)  The bulk of her close friends come from people she went to college with, and a few folks at Temple.

(For a while there, she went through a serious folk dancing phase...She mostly over it now. Mostly.)

Story Uses:

“Look. You let me do the talking and don’t volunteer a single bit of information and you might be okay.”

Into every character's life, a little rain must fall, and occasionally, after doing wildly criminal stuff, occasionally characters get arrested. If it happens that your character is poor, then the gods have smiled if you happen to draw Ms. Horowitz.

“Did my mother send you? Look I really don’t time for...”

The poor girl is stretched a little thin and she really isn’t giving herself much of an opportunity for any kind of social life. She’s bookish and a little shy (She puts on a very convincing mask in court.) So she doesn’t have a special person in her life. (Guy or girl)  Maybe you could be that special person. Although if you aren’t able to produce grandchildren for her mother...Well. it won’t be pretty. There may be some high pitched keening.

Connections:

*Has defended certain girls from The Caboose who have been arrested for possession. Has never been in the place, though.

*Once got Dolores Hernandez from Caligari's off on an aggravated assault beef. Has been telling everyone in her hood that Christine is the shit.  It's why the Spanish speakers have been asking for her.

* Once ripped Officer Honus Brightwater to shreds on the stand. He hasn't forgotten that.

* Has had occasional dealings with Detective Bela Janofski. She likes that he's polite and knows his stuff.

* Has defended a few of Tyronne "Tiberius" Glover's boys in court. If she ever went out on her own or joined a defense firm. He'd put her on retainer immediately.

* Successfully defended Teflon John Galloway and still can't believe she screwed him afterward. I mean, "What in the hell was I thinking?"

* Law firms keep an eye on one another, So there's no way that a talented girl like Christine would have escaped the notice Holmes, Gillis, Baker, Savage, North, and Dean. But Roderick Holmes divines, (correctly) that she has a lot of inconvenient morals and ethics and might not deal well with their clientele.

* Has deposed Norman Cayce on the stand. Knows his stuff and doesn't rattle easily.

* Got a friend off a bullshit beef. Clavo Hernandez has let her know that she can claim a favor from him anytime she wants.

* Has defended numerous members of Rory O'Halloran's family. Especially that maniac sister of his.

* Counts Patricia "Carnie" Pitt as one of her dearest friends from college. Carnie is loud and extroverted in the way that Christine is absolutely not.  They try to catch lunch once a week and they have more success at this than trying to go to the gym together.

* Has defended Ezekiel Stubbs and some of the members of the Gallowsbait MC.  As a result, her little Toyota runs like a top even though it's ten years old. Don't tell anyone, but Zeke figures heavily into certain fantasies that Christine has.

* On occasion, if it's an act she's heard of, she'll go down to The Witness and dance her ass off. Never takes anyone home, though.

*Dated Dr. Paul Bickford briefly. The card tricks were cute and all, but MAN was he dull.

Whispering Hills Sanitarium

Dr. Ephraim Waverly was inspired. He’d been to Battle Creek, Michigan, Had met with Dr. Kellogg, and had come away from that meeting with the idea that a sanitarium of his own was a worthy goal and a worthy vision. He’d taken his inheritance and had bought a patch of land in a remote, but beautiful, spot out away from town. He hired a brilliant architect and set to work making a peaceful and restful resort/medical facility.

   And frankly, The rich folk were very interested in taking the rest cures, in the new fads in dietetics, and the new types of exercises and therapies. Dr. Waverly began to make money hand over fist.  Most of which he plowed right back into the San, and occasionally helped to hire new doctors and therapists.

   And it was, without a doubt, an idyllic spot. A lovely view looking out over the bowl of Crater Woods.

Oh sure. No business is without its problems. There were occasional stories of the staff seeing ghosts or other hallucinatory phantasmagoria. Even Dr. Waverly noticed that occasionally there was a bit of a pall that seemed to hang over the place. When Dr. Frehley hanged himself, it was shocking of course, but even his family had mentioned that he’d always had a melancholic disposition all of his life. There wasn’t even a whisper of anything more..untoward.

Occasionally, patients would come to the San, looking for a restful getaway, only to have a hysterical breakdown of some sort. Some recovered. Some did not.   Then, one of the groundskeepers went missing. They never even found a body.   People in town, especially the sort that didn’t care for the rich tourists, began to revive the old stories about how Crater Woods was haunted and that the spirit of the Wendigo stalked its woods in the winter. Hunters and fishermen went missing out there every once in a while.

But Dr. Waverly pooh-poohed such superstitious notions. He worked tirelessly to make the San into a beautiful and healthful spot.  It had, after all, become his home. He lived in a peaceful little cabin not too far away and devoted most of his waking hours to helping people. Sure, there was the occasional disappearance or odd burst of unusual tension from customers or staff. But it being so far from town proper, not much made the papers.

Until, one of the children of a very rich couple went missing. Police were summoned, and eventually a detective set about trying to locate the young girl. The detective was able to round up a few hunting dogs and with one of the young ladies bonnets, they went in search of her.

The scent led right to Dr. Waverly’s door. and then, right into the cellar of the cabin...Which is where the scent stopped.  It’s said, that the sights the detective saw there, in that cellar, unseated his reason. He certainly took to drink thereafter. but when he arose from the cellar. He stalked back to the sanitarium, located the Doctor, and emptied his service revolver into the man, then reloaded and calmly did it all over again. Taking unusual care not to kill him too quickly. 

It was all over the papers. The bones of at least 16 separate people were found in that cellar and some may never be identified. The Doctor’s journals were gone over with a fine-tooth comb, but there was never any conclusive sign that Dr. Waverly was even consciously aware of his whole “Other Life”  His journals were quotidian, Dull even. and no sign of another journal was ever found, although there ARE stories of one. Always “friend of a friend saw it once” sort of stories.

This, along the with the stock market crash, two years later put the place out of business for good. and that’s the way it stayed for a while.

But you know how it is. Some damn people can’t leave well enough alone.

A developer for a health consortium found the place and thought it was peaceful. And with just the right sort of security could make for a nice, remote mental institution.  A sanitarium in the modern sense of the word. Naturally, being a group of out-of-towners, none of them had ever heard the wild stories and by the time they had, well...That was fifty YEARS ago for crying out loud! Besides, they’d already bought the land and had sunk money into building new structures and renovating the old ones. These were men of business and science. They weren’t going to be scared off by ghost stories from around the campfire.

The new structure was a squat 4 story edifice that hunkered in the middle of the formerly expansive greensward of the old San and was made of large slabs of poured concrete. Dubbed, “The Grey Lady” it was the actual facility for the housing of the mentally ill.  The older buildings were retrofitted into offices and dormitories for the staff. A high concrete wall was erected around the perimeter and an underground system using one of the tributaries of the Wicomicomico River for both power and clean water was built.

And you know, for a bit there, it seemed as if the ghosts of old had indeed been chased off.  It never seemed like any of the patients really ever got better there, but that was never expected. Psychology was still in the business of warehousing people who couldn’t function in normal society. At least, in the late 60’s it was.

Oh sure, once the ghost stories got around, it seemed like everyone on the staff had to see one. One poor nurse literally had an anxiety attack from seeing...SOMETHING, she knew not what.  And of course, there was always the story about Wayne Mason.

Wayne had had a psychotic break and had gone on a 4 state killing spree. When the cops finally managed to stop his motor home, he offered them the drivers license of the man whose face he’d stapled to his own.  The cops were not particularly fooled as you can well imagine. After a whirlwind trial, whose coverage was only truncated by the Charles Manson trial, Wayne was dumped at Whispering Hills, hopefully, to rot for the rest of his damned existence.

Wayne, for a violent psychopath, was still a chatty fellow. So it was a bit interesting in his therapy sessions when talked about making a new friend...Dr. Waverly.  Dr. Waverly told him that things run in cycles...That the tension builds up and then...well.  The cycle to come was going to be the biggest yet.  The doctor had told him. Yes. He had FORESEEN IT.

This went on for about 4 months. Mason would wax messianic about the coming cycle without exactly saying what the hell he was talking about.  It was a new and interesting wrinkle to his pathology, but after 4 months of it, nobody paid it as much mind as they should’ve.

6 days before the Christmas holiday, the violent wing had a completely inexplicable but utter failure of its internal security. 3 nurses and an orderly were the only ones who managed to escape. Everyone else was butchered mercilessly, then the inmates turned on one another. Mason’s body was never found.

Now, the place is deserted and people who still remember, including members of the city council, won’t allow that area to be re-developed. No one even wants to go up there to bulldoze the place. People who fancy themselves ghost hunters go up there.  Some see nothing. Others see too much.

What’s really going on:

Here’s the deal. The Ghosts are actually incidental. It’s not exactly a magnet for ghost activity like Brockton Hall is on the campus in town.  The ghosts have accumulated over the course of time because of the horrible events that have taken place here and around Crater Woods.  But they aren’t the work of some Major Demon, or horrible dark magic, or anything like that.

The fact is, Crater Woods is unusually but naturally acoustically “warm”, like the best sort of concert halls are designed to be. The Wicomicomico River and Crater Falls, generate an infrasonic standing wave. Temperature, humidity and soil plasticity cause this infrasonic frequency to fluctuate. But given the right conditions, over the course of time, it literally could drive any person mad.  The whole place, under the right conditions, can create an enormous caldera of crazy.  And sometimes, it absolutely does.

   Now the fact there ARE ghosts sort of muddies the water in terms of seeing the actual cause, especially since you can’t actually hear it with your normal hearing. But that being said, the ghosts are scary, but with a few exceptions, harmless.

The Layout:

Unlike some descriptions of places that I’ve done before, I’m not doing this one like a turn-by-turn map. The place is very large and has many different locales contained within it. As a result. I’m only going to hit the highlights.   

Dr.Waverly’s Old Cabin: Was bulldozed many years ago. there is still a particular spiritual “Stain” on the area and it may be the nesting place of some nasty (non-ghost) spirit as a result.  Dr. Waverly can occasionally be seen sitting on a stump, looking off into the distance and writing in his journal. It’s not good to attract his attention.

The Gatehouse: The primary security location for the facility. Since there’s no power up here none of the monitors or P.A, system work at all. The gun racks have been picked clean long ago.  Shades of slain guards may keep watch on similarly dead televisions. With the right kind of eyes, one can see guards tooling around on the parapet of the wall.

The Main Building: Lies to the left of the “Grey Lady”. Few of the windows are intact. The main building is a bit of a manse. Its main hall is easily a hundred feet wide and the main admitting station takes up a minuscule amount of that space. The dining halls and kitchen still bear signs of the massacre that took place here. The east wing of the building is given over to doctor’s offices, medical storage, and a retrofitted operating theater. (Using the original Operating theater that the San once used) Part of that area had been given over to the ECT suite, and there may be bad echoes of spirits still reliving the horrors of electro-convulsive therapy.

The “Dormitory”: Originally used to house rich patients, the original floor plan made each of the dorm rooms quite large. Staff lived on the premises for the most part, although there were a few who would drive in from the city if they already owned homes, or had families. Horrifying murders still play over and over here, but few of the shades here have any motive force.  The spirit of Head Nurse Collins roams these halls though and her approach is usually heralded by a drop in temperature. She’ll assume anyone not in hospital garb is a patient and will likely attempt to see them back to their cell in the Grey Lady.  Any attempt to prevent that will draw an unpleasant response. Please note that I have just made an understatement of some depth.

“The Grey Lady”: Housing for the inmates of the asylum. Magnetic locks on the doors, they just failed one night.  No one seems to know how or why. The whole place still smells faintly of concrete, bleach, alkali sweat, and old death.  Bats have taken roost in the upper floors where some of the windows have been broken out.  The bottom levels of the building house the power and water station for the complex. There’s nothing wrong with any of that. It’s just been off for ages.  There is also an enormous septic tank that is separated from the water/power station by a concrete slab wall. The tank was so large because it needed to be able to not be serviced for at least two months at a time.  There are still times up here when the roads get impassible in the winter.  

Inmate ghosts can be a mixed bag of interesting conversationalists, violent psychotics, and as per usual, the combo platter.  Wayne Mason considers this his little kingdom and takes a paternalistic interest in anyone messing with his children.

It should be noted that symptoms of graphomania manifested in a statistically significant number of the inmates and most of the walls in the place are covered with script in ink and various bodily fluids.  Do an Image search on Google for graphomania and you won’t lack for visual cues for your players.

Robert Nathan Herbert

Concept: Grand Imperial Wizard (Of the KKK)

AKA: Answers to “Bob”

Desc: Putting-green short hair still red, although going a little gray. Gimlet eyes. A nose that’s been broken at least once. Beer belly, although, to be fair, He’s working on it.  One knee from his half-back days with an ugly scar on it. Knuckles that have seen some damage in anger over the years.

History: The problem with people who are evil is not so much that they are big extravagant mustache-twirling evil. There really aren’t a lot of people who revel in the idea of being bad or causing suffering...At least, there aren’t a lot of people who identify themselves as “evil” people. Almost every evil person thinks that they are a good person and that they are absolutely RIGHT and Righteous.  Frankly, if “those” people didn’t want to be on the receiving end of all that suffering they’d simply choose not to be poor or gay, or in the case of people of other ethnicities, Go back to whatever mud-hole country they crawled out of.  It’s not even a matter of faith with people like this, that this is hard, cold fact and is evident to anyone with any sense.  These are the people who have been told all of their lives that all the people different from them are ruining the country,(Not that they’ve even met too many) and that every single bad thing in their lives is down to the fact that this country has become a moral cesspool.  It’s no wonder that people can say with a straight face that Gays cause tornadoes and not only not be laughed off the stage, but have others nod their heads in agreement.

   No. The real face of evil is completely banal and ordinary. Vampires and Demons ain’t got nothing on the amount of damage and suffering that a man can cause if he’s sure he’s right and doesn’t care who get hurt by it.

Such people can be business leaders, deacons in their church, consider themselves a “Good Christian”, serve on the school board, Be a decent parent even. They don’t have to have supernatural powers. They don’t have to have unnatural hungers or anything like that.

They don’t even have to dress up in a bed-sheet and go around terrorizing black folks.  At least, not all that often. Not anymore.

A man can do more good or ill by simply working to create a culture. A little bit every day. Say you own a truck dealership, a fairly successful one too. And maybe someone comes into your dealership looking to buy a truck, and because maybe they’re a little too Catholic, or Jewish, or a person of Color, or maybe a bit LBGTQ, It probably won’t hurt them too terribly if you find that “the bank” has turned down their loan. No. That probably won’t hurt all that much.  It might hurt a bit more, though, if you get on the blower to your drinking buddies and prevent them from getting a truck loan anywhere else in town.  And you know, if someone burns a cross on their lawn, Maybe they’ll get the idea that they aren’t welcome in this township. Maybe some night a truckload of rednecks, hopped up on whiskey comes around a corner and decides to extract their crap via beating for sport.

Bob Herbert is that sort of man.  He doesn’t have prison ink or the 14 words tattooed on his body. He considers himself a patriot, A Christian, and a warrior, albeit an aging one, for all this is good and right and holy.

You’re probably not going to convince him otherwise.

Attitude: "Son...This country was founded by men like you and me. I, personally don’t see a problem with making sure it stays that way. Not for me, you understand. For my little girls...And your sons and daughters. That’s what a man does for his children."

Skills:  Bob Herbert is never going to be anybody’s idea of a super villain. He’s not going to come at you himself. He’s far too old for that. He’s also far too smart for that.  Bob is a capable businessman but his real genius is for organization, tactics, and he is a master of killing you with bureaucracy.Which is not to say he can't throw a punch or a kick, but he'll likely be wheezing before it's all said and done. He makes it his business to make the rounds and make friends with powerful people, and with people who AREN’T powerful, but who are NEXT to the people who are. Not that it’s likely to come up, but Bob is also a talented carpenter and whittler.

Gear: Bob keeps a nickel-plated snub-nosed 38 under his armpit. He’s a got a concealed carry permit for it.  He’s not a fan of smartphones, but even he has to admit they are damn useful. He held out for as long as he could, but eventually, his flip phone went the way of all flesh. He keeps a pocketknife and a Leatherman’s multi-tool on his person at all times because he feels naked without them.  A handkerchief for allergy flare-ups, and a tin of Altoids, because old salesman’s habits die hard. At home, Bob keeps a fairly serious arsenal, most of which was bought off of Homer Conway.

Home: Bob’s Home is a bit out in the sticks. It sits forward on the 8-acre patch and so the back yard is fairly deep. It’s been great for sledding all these years.

It’s also been perfectly fine for shooting practice (which the Mrs. and the girls participate in.) and military drills with the other members of his Klavern. (which the girls have dubbed, “Kinda gay.”) There is also a fairly nice pool.

Circle: Bob’s real talent lies in understanding the sort of people who are likely to be receptive to his message and those who are not...and those, who might accept his message, with a little bit of nudge. As such, He’s made in-roads into various types of influence, both high and low. The Klavern only numbers about 25 actual members and most of those guys are either young,dumb, and full of cum. or they’re old farts like himself.  But at least the old farts have a little money and a little influence of their own.  Bob is very capable of managing his resources and the resources of his men.

   Additionally, Bob and his men have been funding the building of a hunting lodge/country club out near Crater Woods.  It’s a bit of a recruitment tool. Oh sure, there are stories about Crater Woods and the things that have happened up there...But they’re just stories. Right?

Story Uses:

“That’s a real shame. I’m afraid the boys are going to have to kick the shit out of you now.”

Bob, despite his beliefs, is NOT a good man. and it’s entirely possible that he could end up being a low-level character's worst goddamn nightmare. Especially, if he’s able to keep himself out of the fray.

“Shit son. You should have said so in the first place. Boys?”

Unlikely as it may seem, Bob Herbert might turn into the most unlikely sort of ally. Hatred and fear of anything different might make strange bedfellows when the hatred and fear extends to supernatural creatures.

Especially if them damn vampires is goddamn euro-trash.

“Fellas...A new vision has been shown to me.”

Of course, A guy like Bob, there might be some supernatural types who might want to put him in their pockets.  If they can get close enough and get it done before he can try to stop them...Well. You can see what’s coming next. This might be even worse, should the patron decide to teach him some real hedge magic. Making him an actual "Grand Wizard"

Connections:

* Has made certain assumptions about Ezekiel Stubbs from his AB ink and has made a pitch or two to the man. He's thinking that the addition of Gallowsbait MC to his Klavern would be a real shot in the arm. Zeke hasn't told the man to go fuck himself, but he's not interested in working for anyone else and has said as much.

*The church that Bob is a Deacon at? Reverend Mike Plumber's church of course. Reverend Mike always seems to understand, even if it's too impolitic to say out loud.  A true man of God in Bob's opinion.

*Some years ago, Doris Badenov ran afoul of some of Bob's boys and they kicked the crap out of Jordan. If Jordan can figure out a way to stick a spoke in the Klan's wheels, he'll do it. Possibly by tricking them into clashing with the vampires. (As a side note, Nearly any person on this website can have run afoul of the Klan dickheads on any given weekend. The only one(s) that they tangled with who has taught them fear and respect were Immanuel Washington and Rika Martinez. Sadly, those lessons haven't exactly stuck. But if they see those people on the street they give them a wide berth.

* Homer Conway is still officially listed as a member of the Klavern and is a good friend to Bob all these years.

* Has had long heart-to-heart talks with Officer Honus Brightwater about joining up fully. Bonus knows that the State Patrol officially frowns on that sort of thing, he's just not sure if there's an unofficial policy against it. In any event, Honus is considered an ally, as are a few of his fellow officer on the state patrol.

Jackson "Whitey" Savaliga

Concept: The Big Lug/Camera-man

AKA: Got his slightly racist nickname in grade school.

Desc: Built like a sasquatch. Long black hair. He can pull off a top-knot. Everything on him is broad. Doesn’t talk much. Doesn’t laugh much either. Can be intimidating if he simply says nothing and scowls.  His voice, however, is weirdly thin and reedy. Wears sandals unless it is actively snowing. Standard uniform is t-shirts and cargo shorts. Looks like he just came off a Samoan beach. 

History: The big thing you need to know about Jax is that he started out this whole thing because he was in it in for the money. He’s a fairly talented photographer already and went to school to get into cinematography. There isn’t a ton of film business in this town, and while he’s not above filming weddings to make the rent, He’s looking primarily to create a series of his own. There’s YouTube money to be made.

  Well, the beer is not going to buy itself, right?

He’d been casting around for a while, trying to find a decent property that he could work with. Student directed films and plays can only get you so much traction, Also Indy film industry is pretty much predicated on the premise of paying the crew as little as possible and paying the actors and writers even less.  Also, any money you DO see is usually on the back end.

   And then, he got a call from Professor Bickford.  Turned out the Prof was looking for a cameraman for a little situation he had going on, mostly on the weekends.  Totally not dangerous.   He was taking a group of P-Psyche students up to Whispering Hills for a little De-bunk 101 and was willing to front him for his time that weekend.  Hey, considering that Whitey had always thought that ghosts were a bit of a shuck and jive, and his money spent just fine. He was totally on board.

The footage was particularly horrifying. While it was happening, it was very easy to try to think it was a dream or some kind of massive hallucination, but the film doesn’t lie.  They saw SOMETHING there that was not the usual run of affairs.  In fact, Whitey was one of the few people who had not lost his head completely, had bodily lifted a fellow student, and carried him out, along with his camera rig.   No. Generally, Whitey doesn’t get scared while it’s happening. It’s later when he’s looking at the footage, that he thinks about how close it came. THAT’s when the fear creeps in.

And that was the reason that when Professor Bickford came back around again, He told him in no uncertain terms that he should perform a physically impossible sex act on himself.  And that’s probably where it would have ended. Had Collette not been along for the ride.

How to put this. Meeting Collette Reeves was to Jax Savaliga, the equivalent of being a tree struck by lightning. And if she was going into some haunted house with some weird old biddy and the prof who, let’s face it, he could huck like a lawn dart. Well... someone was going to have to go with her and make sure she stayed safe.

Yeah. He’s got it bad. He’s not creepy about it. And Collette, for her part likes him just fine, But he hasn’t exactly put himself out there. She tries to be gentle with him for the most part, because frankly, she’s more interested in the prof herself. Whitey suffers, but he suffers silently.  He doesn’t talk about “Nice Guys” or “Friend-Zoning”. He doesn’t really talk much about it at all.

He wishes he had the courage to simply ask her out. But he’s also afraid he knows what the answer would be. So he doesn’t push the question. He’s just there for her. Silently. Without expecting anything in return.  He’s too young to know that road leads nowhere.

   Virgie worries, that some night when Collette is feeling low, or drunk, that she’ll take Whitey to bed like a Teddy bear...Because he, likely, won’t ever be the same afterward.

In any event, Whitey still hopes to make some money off the Youtube Series that he’s started, chronicling the (mis)adventures of the PRS.  Whitey thinks that maybe being a camera guy for a war correspondent might actually be relaxing in comparison and is thinking very seriously about picking up some journalism courses. In the meantime, Network Zero is watching his videos with serious interest.

Attitude: “Somebody has to keep these people from getting killed.”

Skills: Whitey originally came to college on a wrestling scholarship. which he still retains, even though he now spends more time on his other pursuits. He is, however, devastating in his weight class and seems to have natural skills. (Don’t tell anybody but he’s a distant cousin of...Well I won’t say who, but you can “Smell what he’s cooking”)  So dots of Wrestling Fighting Style, Brawling Dodge, Strong Back, and merits like that, are right in keeping.  He’s weakest socially, not being much of a talker. He is, as previously noted, a big strapping butt-steak of a young man. (Likely be well fixed for Strength and Stamina) and he’s not dumb at all. He’s actually a pretty good student and lately, he’s been reading more. Not that occult stuff so much. But philosophy...Yeah. He’s been delving into that.

Gear: He carries a digital camera/Mic rig like professional photojournalists carry, along with an iPad so he can edit on the fly or film if something happens to Cam1. He’s stocked to the gills with small camera equipment, batteries, that he packs into a photojournalist's vest. By now it’s become something of a tradition that the vest also sports a camelback and power bars.

Whitey carries no weapons as a matter of course, But he does keep a Louisville slugger in the trunk of his hatchback. 

Home: Lives in a rental home just off campus that appears to have been set on fire multiple times.(It really only happened like the one time...) He lives with 4 other dudes and a revolving cast of steady girlfriends/fuck-buddies that seem to crash here whenever. Things are relatively peaceful for the most part. This is mainly because Whitey keeps his door locked.  The one issue that could have been a problem was when one of the bros had a girlfriend who had a nose-candy problem and she stole a case of lenses. Those lenses cost more than Whitey’s car. The chick got busted at the pawn shop, and the dude in question left the house almost immediately. He discovered that Jax was capable of encircling his throat with a single hand.

Circle: Small.  Jackson has only a few people he holds dear. His PRS people and at least two of the dudes living in the house now. An ex-girlfriend he still talks to in the college of Economics, and his wrestling teammates. That’s about it.

Story Uses:

“Ok. That’s it. We’re out.”

Whitey’s role in the PRS is fairly clear cut. When Whitey calls it, The rest of them listen, because if things go sideways, Whitey is likely going to be saving everyone’s life. (Collette first naturally.) It’s not that he’s precognitive or anything like that. It’s just that he’s got actual common sense, which in the World of Darkness is almost like having a superpower.  While Paul and Collette and Virgie are spit-balling theories and arguing causes, Whitey is paying laser-like attention to the immediate surroundings through his lens.

“Well. I may have a guy I can call.”

If Network Zero extends an invitation, Whitey’s situation may change, but not necessarily his primary interest. He might be more primed to enter dangerous situations...but never at Collette’s expense.

No. Not Ever.

Connections:

* Has been to The Witness many times with his Ex. (Patty was really into the local music scene.) Tony Serrano offered him a job at one point when a fight broke out on the dance floor and Jax had handled it before the Security could get to it.

* The boys in his shared housing like various forms of exotic chemical entertainments so Whitey has met both Rick Deluca and Teflon John Galloway.

* Big Dan Tarleton scouts the University wrestling team on a semi-regular basis. Has made a pitch to Whitey, but Whitey isn't buying.

Marta Reyes

Concept: Maid by day/Torch singer by night

AKA: Marta’s stage name is Lana Valdez

Desc:  Long glossy black hair that is past her shoulders which she normally keeps pony-tailed. Pleasant features and a nice smile. She’s got muscle from long years of working as a domestic both privately and in hotels. She still bears the tattoo on her wrist promising her heart to Julio. Has a subdued gray uniform that she normally wears on the job,  It should be noted that when she is being Lana Valdez, she wears make-up that is fairly dramatic and wears her hair down and a push-up bra. People don’t generally recognize her, and she’s perfectly okay with that.  “Lana” cultivates an air of mystery which is helpful in forestalling much conversation offstage. This is useful because Marta is painfully shy.

History: Marta has been working hard since she was 12 years old. Papi died when she was little and Madre was working as a domestic and as soon as Marta was old enough to be helpful, she was right there beside her mother doing the work. And that was the case until lung cancer ate her up from the inside about 10 years ago.  Not too long after that, there was an incident at work involving a manager who seemed to feel that hotel was his personal plantation and that Marta was his own personal brown sugar.  Marta grabbed him by the balls, and as mentioned, She’s got some muscle.  That asshole still feels it.  Not only did he fire her but he used his connections to get her blackballed in the hotel industry.

    This turned out to be a blessing in disguise. She’s got cousins in a latin/jazz band who needed a singer, and Marta had been singing all her life. Marta had never really thought much about being a professional singer. Well...That’s not entirely true. She had but, Madre had been particularly ruthless about stomping on any dream that might rob her of her extra pair of hands. A girl like Marta needed to be hard-headed and practical, or so Madre told her nearly every day of her life.  But her cousin Eugenio encouraged her to give it a try and when she auditioned for the band, she flatly knocked their socks off.

    Sadly, a life as a professional singer is one of many ups and downs, and Marta had been a hard worker all her life. But the boost to her confidence was enough to get her out of the dumps and re-brand herself as a domestic for hire to rich people. Now she’s remade herself as an independent businesswoman. And the Asshole manager got caught with his dick inside someone who didn’t like it and had a lawyer.  See. Sometimes justice triumphs.

Attitude: “Listen Ninã. The world is very rough and you can see a lot of horrible things, especially if you keep your eyes open. But you have to keep your eyes open, or you can’t learn anything. And life is so much harder if you are stupid or blind.”

Skills:  While it’s been a long time, Marta still knows how to throw a punch. She doesn’t have a lot of social dots, but her Expression is quite high with a specialty in vocal music. (She also plays a little guitar.) Her other main skill is the ability to seemingly fade into the woodwork while remaining in plain sight. She’s got a few dots of crafts because she’s had to learn a bit of jack-leg plumbing and carpentry on the job. She's got muscle and plenty of raw stamina from a life in the service industry. Her resolve and composure are also pretty decent. She’s not completely unflappable, but damn near. If she wasn’t so cripplingly shy in some ways, she’d be a force of nature. She’s fired a gun before...But that was a long time ago.

Gear: Plastic milk crates of cleaning supplies live in the trunk of her Camry. She keeps a notebook, phone, and rolls of lifesavers in the pockets of her apron. She kids herself that the Lifesavers are for the little ones in the various households she services. Sure they are.  On rough days, the flask in her glovebox makes an appearance.

Home: Marta lives alone in an apartment. Eugenio sometimes crashes on her couch. Her home is particularly spare and doesn’t really have much in the way of keepsakes or mementos. This is by design. When she lost the baby, she lost Julio too. She couldn’t have anything around her that reminded her of either one, and she just got used to not having a lot of stuff. Her best friend, The drag queen from down the hall, keeps telling her she needs to breathe some life into this place. 

Circle: Marta's family is quite large and she is weirdly, an only child of her branch of it. The good thing though is that although she is fairly shy, they love her unreservedly. She just is one of the sorts of people that people find themselves liking even in spite of her social awkwardness.  This goes for her bandmates, her public, and the clients she works for.

Story Uses:

“Dos mio. Not this again!”

You know, it’s quite possible that Marta knows a LOT about the various skeletons in people’s closets. She keeps her mouth shut about that stuff because you’ll find yourself out of work if you start telling about the things you’ve seen...And some of the rougher things she’s seen may have been supernatural in nature. Marta may be in a position to know all sorts of things.

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll be fine.”  

While it’s possible that Marta might make a good friend or even girlfriend for a PC, She’s not exactly a stranger to the rough aspects of life, as such, she’s not likely to be a damsel in distress. You may bust in the door only to find that she beating the guy to death with the remnants of the chair that she’s still handcuffed to.  I’m just saying.

Connections: 

* She works for Eldon Hawkins who is the son of Miss Virgie Hawkins. She's met the rest of the PRS people and considers them all fairly harmless. She's TOLD Mr. Hawkins this, but he just doesn't seem to listen.

* The high point of her week is going to see Payton Breckinridge and having him cook her breakfast and chat her up. If she could allow herself to believe that maybe Payton has feelings for her TOO, then maybe they could get somewhere. As it is, it's exquisitely painful for the both of them, and they never want it to stop.

* Lillian Penobscot is another one of her rich clients. Weirdly the two women have become friendly in a way that wildly dissimilar people can be. 

* Doris Badenov is the drag queen best friend. When Marta first began singing she knew she'd need some kind of make-over. So, screwing up her courage, she went and knocked on his door and they've been fast friends ever since. She IS afraid that his drinking has gotten out of control, because when he's terribly fried he starts raving about "Los Vampiros".

* Clavo Hernandez did the ink on her wrist. Julio was a friend of his and he did it as a favor.

*Cullen Gillis and Victoria North of Holmes, Gillis, Baker, Savage, North, and Dean are also clients of hers. They've talked her up to the other partners and at some point Marta may collect the entire set.

*It should be mentioned that Marta has a client or two that are members of The Vermillion House. But most of the time, any sort of deep depravity tends to be hidden from "The Help" this might change if Eugenio ever gets a Vermillion House Party gig. Because while they may not recognize her, she will definitely recognize a number of them.

* Is a distant cousin of the Hernandez sisters from  Caligari's. Marta gets along with Bonita fine, but even after all this time, still has beef with Dolores. That puta knows what she did...

Officer Wesley Ullman

Concept: Cop on the edge

AKA:  Wesley, when he was a much younger man was very keen on the idea of becoming a make-up/special effects guy in Hollywood.  As such, he got the nickname “Fex” which has stuck. Most people who know him casually know him as “Fex”.

Desc: Average height and build. Thinner than he used to be. Bags under his eyes because he’s not sleeping well.  He’s also periodically checking out of conversations, got that thousand yard stare. you know? His laugh has a sharpness that didn’t used to be there before. Most of his cop friends haven’t noticed. But his wife and kid have. Has an eye-twitch that flares up from time to time.

History: Cops in this town have seen some shit. Heck. Cops in nearly ANY town have seen some shit. Some of the things may be supernatural in nature. and others may just be the garden variety awfulness that human beings perpetrate on one another. Add to that the fact that most police are meeting people in a stressful-to-worst-day-of-their-lives social situation and you can probably see that it’s not surprising that police are suffering from PTSD just as much as any person who’s spent time in a war zone.  Wes has been a patrol officer for almost 8 years now. He got into police work because a friend who was doing it talked it up to him and Fex was at a point of being sick of dead end jobs. Also, He and Nadine had just gotten married, and his daughter Carly was already on the way. Fex went to the academy and did decently well, and not long after his probationary period was over, he and Nadine plunked down a chunk on a lovely little place in the burbs where Carly could grow up safe and happy.  And you know what. Fex was a pretty decent cop and husband and father.  There have been good times mixed in with some of the rough.

    But things haven’t always been cuddles and hand-jobs.  Crime is up, and gang violence is on the rise (especially during the summer) It’s easy to fall into a siege mentality and come closer and closer to considering all civilians to be “Potential scum-bags”.  Not family or friends obviously, but any dirt-ball you don’t know, could be the guy who looks completely harmless, and then sticks a kitchen knife in you because you got too close and let your guard down.

      No. It didn’t happen to Wes. But it did happen to a guy Wes knew as he was pulling up to assist with the traffic stop.  IAB, for their part, ruled Officer Ullman’s shoot as justified and sent him home for a few days.

   The combination of constantly feeling endangered on the streets, along with a triggering event, has been the one-two punch for Wesley’s mental well-being.  Now he doesn’t sleep well.  He’ll hear a noise and have to go look, gun drawn. (He came within a hair’s breath of accidentally shooting Carly. He definitely scared the daylights out of here by yelling at her. Then, of course, he felt like a giant ass.) Nadine has taken to walking on eggshells around him, as there is literally no telling what will set him off.  He’s never so much as raised a hand to her, but Nadine can’t help but think that if he ever did...She might be dead before it cleared off for him.  He mother is counseling her to get clear of Wes until he gets some help.  

    Wes of course, doesn’t know that anything is wrong with him other than he seems to be unable to relax without alcohol being involved.  He’s worried that he’s going to get put on psychiatric leave or some crap, and frankly, he can’t afford that and incidentally HE’S FUCKING FINE since you asked...

Attitude: “I nearly killed that guy. I had my gun in his fucking face and I would have opened him up if you hadn’t been there. Shit, I don’t even have anything against Latinos, not like some of the guys...What the hell is wrong with me sometimes?  Man...I need a drink or something. I just gotta calm the fuck down...”

Skills:  He’s a pretty decent physical specimen. Likely has Strong Back and other things like that. Has police training so he’s got some hand to hand skill, and maybe some dots of combat marksmanship.  He’s a likable guy in ordinary circumstance and he’s not stupid, but his mentals and socials aren’t super special or anything.  He still has a few dots in crafts: special effect/Make-up from his high school days and he’s the sort of dude who knows who Greg Nicotero and Tom Savini are.

Gear: As a patrol officer he’ll have a pistol, a taser, pepper spray, and a snap baton on his belt rig. Like many patrol officers, he also has an ankle holster with a holdout piece in it. The back of his patrol vehicle is also home to a riot shotgun which is locked in place for safety.   Fex also has 3 additional handguns and an additional shotgun at home. They are locked up in his gun safe. Which only he and Nadine have the combo for. He’s taught Nadine how to shoot as well.  Which could be bad news for him if he ever snaps completely and threatens her or Carly, Nadine’s a pretty good shot.

Home: As mentioned, He and Nadine have a lovely little place in the burbs with an inflatable pool out back. His gun safe and his work table, are safely ensconced in the basement.  Wes has a little carpentry, although not as much as he thinks. and so occasionally he comes down here and works half-heartedly on projects. (Really, more of an excuse to drink out from under the eyes of his wife and child.) All of his old “FX” gear is tucked away in a metal cabinet in the corner.  He breaks it out every Halloween and scares the living shit out of the neighbor kids.

Circle: Cops, obviously. Although not much pull with brass, or the detectives. People in his neighborhood, old school friends on Facebook, and the people he likes at his church.

Story Uses:

“Mister. You move your hands another inch and I’m going to burn you down.”

Yes. it’s fairly certain that bumping into Fex Ullman on a bad night, especially if your errands aren’t exactly completely innocent, could make for the worst night of your life. Granted, if you’re not exactly allergic to high-velocity projectiles, it might not be fatal...but complicated. Yeah, definitely that.

“I didn’t know who else I could talk to about all this...”

On the other hand, it may be that you’re a friend of his and concerned about his welfare, or maybe looking for someone like him to employ for your own nefarious purposes and the fact that his judgment is somewhat compromised, might play to your strengths. Either way, you may have to do some work to get this guy back to a place where’s he likely to be useful and less of a loose cannon.

Connections:

* Like most fellows who have been in for a while he knows Miss Virgie Hawkins. But he hasn't really bumped into her in a while since she stopped slinging drinks.  If she DID bump into him at this point, she'd probably stop and make him sit down and talk to her, for as long as it takes. She's seen too many cops take their own lives.

*Went to high school with Ezekiel Stubbs and has the distinction of being one of the few cops that Zeke doesn't fucking loathe. Which is not to say that each of them isn't careful in their interactions with one another, but Wes, unlike other cops in the department had the OTHER side of that whole story because he knew Zeke growing up. 

* Has met and is relatively friendly to Joseph Cartolano. What cop is ever going to bust the donut delivery guy? Also, he tends to deliver cakes to the local cop shop. On occasion, Wes has been riding the desk when Joseph rolls in.

*Has met Norman Cayce and Detective Bela Janofski. Both of them decent guys he tends to think.

* "State Police? Yeah...I thought about applying to them, but I couldn't get in. I scored too high on the entrance exam and my parents were married."  Officer Honus Brightwater didn't think that joke was funny AT ALL.

* Cops normally need to be shuffling Charlie along or hauling him in to sleep it off. Charlie don't mind. It's three hots and a cot to him.

Dr. Paul Bickford

Concept: The “Scully” with a few doubts...

AKA: None.  As such. Answers to “Doc”  

Desc: Skinny as a goddamned rail. Decent head of hair although he’s got a salt and pepper thing going on with it. Doesn’t bother with facial hair though because it ALL comes in salty and he doesn’t like that as a look. Going for a kind of “Fuck-able Carl Sagan” vibe.  Still, a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy usually topped with a comfortable sportcoat. (The T-shirt usually from some late 80’s/early 90’s band.) Smokes too much. Drinks WAY too much coffee. Hums to himself. Thinks out loud. A voice capable of hitting the back wall of the lecture hall and then some.

History:  Paul is always careful to say that he is a psychologist first and foremost. It’s just that the university HAD a parapsychology program, minuscule though it was, and when he was a staff teacher he ended up teaching practically the entire course-load. 

Which he hated.

Frankly, Paul feels that the supernatural is a lot of baloney and over the course of time, he changed the original curriculum to reflect this attitude. Psych majors who wanted to explore the world of the unknown were invariably disappointed when Paul began his hard-core skeptical appraisal of supernatural/psychic phenomenon. After he got his doctorate, he finally had enough swing with the university to start bringing guest lecturers, and he made a point of bringing in stage magicians and people who had worked at psychic call centers.  To a degree, it worked. People wanting fuzzier thinking left psych, and went over to study folklore and mythology, and the rest who were interested in how belief in the supernatural world interacted with actual human psychology, stayed.  It did mean that the program never got any larger. Sadly, this was also true of the funding.

   Or at least, that USED to be true.  The rise of ghost hunting shows on television have caused a slight swell in the number of students hungry to know more. Heck, there were a number of them that weren’t even psych majors. So, as a result, Dr. Bickford began organizing ghost hunting field trips to supposedly haunted sites in the area. Lots of old mansions.  Naturally, there wasn’t a lot to see.  At least until they visited the decaying hulk of the city's old abandoned sanitarium.

   To this day, Paul maintains that they experienced a combination of natural effects involving natural infrasonic phenomenon and a possible exposure to carbon monoxide. Whatever exactly was the case, when the university got wind of the aftermath, the course was discontinued, everyone got an “A” to head off suing, and Paul was encouraged to take a sabbatical.

   As Paul was packing up his things on the last day of the semester, half expecting to never come back. A young woman walked into his office and introduced herself. Her name was Collette Reeves.  

And that’s how Paul ended up joining the Paraphysical Research Society.  He’s still pretty hard-headed about evidence and data and all that stuff...and frankly, the arguments with Miss Virgie are the most interesting exchange of ideas he’s had in years. (Especially since Collette tends to referee) But he has to admit to himself, since going along with them, he’s seen some things that he never would have believed possible. Like there was a whole world, he simply couldn’t see or feel until his eyes got forcibly opened.

Attitude: :"Look. I know how it sounds. It sounds like TV bullshit. But I’ve seen a few things in the last year that I could not explain. And I had equipment with me...I can show you data.  But you really won’t know until you bump up against it yourself...And hopefully, come out the other side sane.   Now if I could just PROVE any of it!

Skills: Paul is a seasoned academic but isn’t much for academic political intrigue. He’s a very decent writer and has some skill as a public speaker. (Out in the field, Collette talks to the weirdoes and believers, Virgie talks to the cops, and Paul talks to everyone else.)  He’s got a couple of dots in Medicine and a specialty in psychiatric drugs. (He’s had cause to have to administer a sedative injection in the field.) His main area of expertise is in psychology, of course, but he’s also studied stage magic and hypnotism and a number of other techniques in that same vein. He’s slowly discovering that sleight of hand isn’t as charming on dates as he’d thought it would be.  He’s also turned himself into a bit of a jack-leg electrical engineer and is contemplating getting a bigger house, just so that he can have a room dedicated to a workbench for same. Sensory and recording equipment of the sort needed in the field is not cheap, nor is it likely ever going to be in the university budget. As a result, Paul is cannibalizing or building it from scratch.  In combat, Paul’s best bet is to fall down so as to be out of the line of fire. He hasn’t been in a fist fight since grade school. Paul, for reasons that will become apparent below, speaks fluent Spanish.

Gear: While Virgie provides the house, Paul provides the Van.  He bought it from the university during one of their warehouse sales. At the time it seemed like a good investment because he was dating a linguistics teacher and it looked like they were getting pretty serious...Like move- in-together-and-have-kids serious. Sadly, that did not turn out to be the case.  But Paul got a good deal on the Van. It’s a white step-van built for moving mail and packages around the university environs. (The University is pretty spread out and some of the Ag Science programs are on farms way out in the sticks.)  Paul also built a mobile sensory recording station with multiple pieces of sensory equipment connected to an old laptop and powered by a smallish gasoline generator. The whole shmear is bolted, zip-tied, and hot-glued to an old furniture dolly for easy transport.  Collette has dubbed the thing, “The Grim Peeper”, a name which has stuck.  On his person, Paul carries an iPad and a dollar tree notebook. Paul also has the metabolism of a hummingbird, so he often has his go-bag which is loaded with snacks, a thermos of coffee, and bottled water.

Home: Paul lives with his hetero life-mate Manolo Cavazo in a 3 bedroom house that they rent together. Manny runs the student Sport/Exercise center on campus and most mornings they car-pool. They’ve been best friends since they roomed together in college and when Paul’s parents passed away in a train-wreck, Manolo’s Abuela practically adopted him. Manolo is a bit of a horndog, so Paul has been very careful to keep him from meeting Collette. When Paul and Manny go their separate ways for the day, they always say to one another,”Stay gold Pony-boy.”  It’s almost too sickeningly cute.

Circle: Aside from his Spanish-speaking second family, Paul’s circle is pretty small. He’s known and fairly respected in the psych department, but this never really prevents them from gossiping about exactly what happened at Whispering Hills Sanitarium. The department head likes him, but doesn’t want anymore irresponsible talk about that stuff.

Story Uses:

“Sure. But where’s the data?  Don’t try to prove something to me with Math and then back it up with Scripture...”

Paul is beginning to realize the opposite of Virgie's problem. He ALWAYS thought that people who talked about the Occult were full of shit. Now he’s beginning to realize that not all of them are. His role in the PRS is one of always saying. “Look people. It literally doesn’t MATTER what I know. The only thing that matters is what I can PROVE.” Paul IS usually pretty good about not taking arguments personally, and he can admit when he might be wrong. and while he and Virgie fight like an old married couple at times, She seems to know something about him, that he may not know about himself. He's absolutely terrified of the things he’s discovered and yet he wants...no. NEEDS to master this fear of the unknown. For this reason, and a few others, she keeps him around.

“Ok. It’s an interesting idea. I’ll be interested to see where you go with it.”

Paul might make a good mentor for a character at the university. additionally, whether he realizes it or not, he is on the lookout for new people to join the PRS.

Connections:

* As mentioned, makes up the "Scully" half of the PRS to Miss Virgie Hawkins "Mulder" half.

For all their crabbing at one another, he actually likes the old lady and is a bit protective of her. Paul is the one he seems to field all the heat from her oldest son Eldon. Eldon is the first person in years that Paul has wanted to punch in the mouth.

* Has had some long and interesting conversations with Fredrick Wyngarde about various topics in abnormal psychology. He's even seen a few of the plays that Wyngarde has written but they were a little grisly for his taste. Wyngarde's got an interesting take on things and so that's why the conversation continue.

* Dated Clarinda Hale some years ago. It was pretty serious there for a bit. And then...Well, things got weird between them, and Paul still doesn't really understand why. He still sees her occasionally and is a bit worried about her. He's offered to do a sleep study on her, but she waves him off for no reason she can easily articulate.

*Also, knows Dr. Dennis McMurtry but really only in passing. Has no idea that Clarinda and Dennis have a deeper connection.  If he saw them having dinner together, he might get the wrong idea.

*One of his favorite places to a take a date is, of course, Caligari's and he's on a first-name basis with all of the staff. He can even tell the Hernandez sisters apart and order in Spanish. They love him to pieces. 

* Has been to The Grimoire multiple times with Collette and Virgie. He tends to gravitate to Bear and they tend to talk about parapsychology engineering. It's a rare conversation that doesn't involve diagrams hastily written in his little notebook. Luna flirts with Paul. Noel would like to. Penny usually just looks over to Collette and gives her a knowing smile. Shaking her head a little and rolling her eyes.