Frederick Wyngarde

Concept: Theater Professor

AKA: No, that’s his real name. He also answers to “Doc”

Desc: Rail thin and severe looking. Cheekbones that you could slice roast beef with. Blue eyes that seem mildly unfocused, yet see EVERYTHING. receding hairline which has gone silvery. Often he forgets to shave for days at a time, but never long enough to develop an actual beard or mustache. Favors dark colors, often going in for the black turtleneck look with dark slacks or jeans. Never wears jewelry. Broken capillaries across the bridge of his nose from too much drink. His laugh is a harsh bark-like thing.

History: He’s erudite, articulate. and his sense of humor is bone dry. He’s been with the university long enough to have tenure and has risen to the position of the artistic director. (Although the Dean of Fine Arts is almost always a music professor) He’s taught an endless parade of young impressionable youths about the craft of theater, which he considers to be more of a religion, and over the course of a long and distinguished career in academia and in the theater. He’s gone mad.

   Ok. that may be overstating it a bit. He’s always been a bit of an Elitist. He’s also always been the sort of theatrical practitioner to gather a cult of personality. The standard rap being something that essentially boils down to, “Everything you are doing is wrong, but I see a feeble glint of promise within you. Do everything I tell you, and maybe you too can have a serious career in the theater.”  With certain impressionable female students, this goes further...as you can imagine.  He’s pretty bitter about not having gotten further in the business, but that’s nearly ANY actor/director his age.  

  But madness? Really?

Well. I should point out that over the years he’s read a LOT of plays. And like any field of endeavor, there are dark corners. Oh sure, The Music department balked at helping him produce “Massa Di Requiem per Shuggay” And his copy of “The King In Yellow” is well thumbed. He’s made several attempts over the years to adapt it into a stage play but there are certain problems and he hasn’t gotten it EXACTLY right yet. And he wants it exactly right. At least, being a theater TEACHER, he’s not shackled by the demands of keeping a professional theater afloat by producing the thrice-damned “Odd Couple” every few years.

Essentially, Frederick has begun to see Theater as a form of public ritual, and rituals are meant to DO things. Changing attitudes in a local society and bringing emotional catharsis to serious societal issues is all well and good, but certain works hint that maybe that’s just beginning of what can be accomplished with this sort of ritual. And while he wouldn’t produce a play which involves a live blood sacrifice or anything like that...He IS fascinated by that sort of thing.  He’s even been casting around trying to determine if there is a Voodoun or Santeria community in this town to see if he can sit in on their services. Fortunately for everyone involved, anyone with ties to those communities divine incorrectly that he’s just another white tourist looking for cheap thrills.

One hopes that a person like Frederick will never actually find the dark grail he doesn’t even know he looking for...But this being the World of Darkness, it is likely to find HIM.

Attitude: “If have learned anything in my many years of practice of the craft of theater, it is this. The Universe responds to Passion and Intent, especially if you follow it up with a healthy dose of repetition. You must demand that the Audience, and by extension, the rest of the universe give you what you want. The practice of magic is much the same in my opinion, if perhaps a bit less refined. “

Skills: Academia has made him an expert researcher and a seasoned intriguer. Theater has made him a master manipulator (Seriously, Manipulation4+) He is very socially skilled and has a number of dots salted away into skills that in any other profession would seem weird. (a couple of languages, a bit of carpentry, lighting design and some of the math that goes along with it. He can sew a tiny bit and has some skill with sword and quarterstaff.  His own peculiar studies have given him a smattering of occult understanding, but not nearly as much as he thinks.

Gear: Refuses to own a cell phone. Seriously, he’s a real douchebag to anyone who brings one into his classes. Has a moleskin notebook that he takes with him everywhere and keeps his keys on a fist sized D-ring which he normally clips to a belt loop.

Home: Has an immaculate little efficiency apartment that is overstuffed with memorabilia and the sort of Mathoms one collects from a life in the theater.Strangely, the place lacks warmth. Watches all his DVDs and all of his television on his computer. Usually with some writing project on the other side of the screen. Keeps one dresser drawer for occasional female guests. Eats many meals over the sink. No pets.

Circle: Has lots of acquaintance, but very few friends. Most of the women he’s been with are driven away by the fact that he rarely lets anyone in.  Normally, he tends to break it off before they get too attached, and if they get annoyed about it, He then does his level best to hound them out of the department or even out of school. he's about got it down to a science by this point.

Story Uses:

“From the top of scene please, and this time, make me believe it!”

Doctor Wyngarde is essentially a ticking time bomb. Sooner or later he’s going to run across some play or opera that is going to do something truly horrific magically and then it will be on like barbecue sauce. The question is, will anyone notice before it’s too late?

“You know my door is always open”

Weirdly, he might not be the worst choice a character, especially a young character, might have for a mentor. He’s very smart, is willing to share his knowledge, and wants to see his students get ahead. Unless of course, they call him on his guru attitudes. At that point, they are dead to him.

Connections:

* Marcie Hawkins knows him and doesn't like him much. He made Adam's life a living hell during his last two years of school. Weirdly, Frederick doesn't remember it that way,("The young man needed toughening up.") and always was privately convinced that Marcie was one of his great successes as a student. is convinced he taught her everything she knows.

* Once while looking around for "found spaces" to perform interesting work, decided to enter Grace Cook's church. He sensed power there, but the building is so unstable you couldn't stage anything in there safely.

* Knows Clarinda Hale and Dr. Dennis McMurtry as a matter of course, but they don't have a lot of overlap aside from being faculty at the same place. Both have heard the gossip about his special proteges that he bones and then hounds out of school.

* Darla Grumman has done work for him in the past. He's a bit high-handed in her opinion, but work is work. Also, Darla still hasn't learned to stay away from actresses.

* Lara X was a theater minor, Frederick would have liked her to be a theater major, and much more interested in older men.

* Doris Badenov was a student of his, and a good one too. Jordan still considers his teaching to have been pure gold. Milo Karanikas took some directing courses as a cross-over with the Cinematography department and feels much the same.

* Lewis Flowers has seen every play that Dr. Wyngarde has produced and directed. He feels as if he's being sent messages. They had a long conversation once at a reception after an opening night for "The Butcher's Dance" Which Wyngarde has likely forgotten about, but Lewis has not. Lewis senses a kindred spirit.

* The Caboose is usually home to at least one girl, if not more, who is working her way through school by stripping, and is interested in theater. Wyngarde has visited the club more than once following rumors of this or that student taking it all off for money. He's fairly low key about this.

* John Patmos created an endowment for the theater through one of his front companies. He wants Wyngarde's work to continue. They've never met in person, but Patmos has seen a number of his shows. He rather enjoyed "The Cannibal's Garden".

The Witness

Some years ago. A local boy made good, came back to town, and plowed some money into a club dedicated to local music. Simple as that.

Aw, who am I kidding? It’s never that simple, is it?

Johnny Serrano is a musician. He’s an okay singer. Knows his way around a piano. But he can play that guitar of his like a mother-fucking riot .  He’s been in bands you’ve heard of.  Fuckable Saints, Hungry Tree, Kinetic Orchestra, Lascivious, Air and Thunder, to name a few. He’s been a studio player for years. And he’s gone on many road tours with various acts 

(although I’m sure those rumors about him and Louise Mandrell aren’t true.) He likes to smile, and it’s a rare night when someone doesn’t ask him to tell one of his many many stories of the music business.  On rare occasions, he’ll even get up on stage with acts that come through town or play a few with the Piss-Poor Liars (The Witness’s house band).

But for the most part, Johnny is relatively happy in his retirement. He just wishes that the club wasn’t running at a near-constant loss. Oh, don’t get me wrong. The Witness does well enough that it’s almost always close to break-even. But running a music club is a sure recipe for weird expenses and so, even doing well, Johnny has to dip into savings. There may come a day when he might have to close the doors, and that’d be a shame because in the five years it’s been open its remade the local music scene completely.

The Neighborhood:

The Witness sits in the grungier part of downtown. Lots of empty parking lots with grass growing through the cracks. brown glass strewn everywhere.  Likely, you’re going to be panhandled around the club environs and if you don’t lock your car doors, the homeless people in the area will at very least go through your glove box.  Many of the club denizens don’t bother having anything their car worth stealing.

The Exterior:

The club from the outside is a boxy looking structure of old school dark red brick. Caged exterior lights go all the way around the structure providing some illumination to the parking spots closest to the club proper. Anything other than the original brick on the building has been fetishistically painted black. When Johnny bought the building, there was something spray painted over the big metal door out front. the top of the message had been worn away over time but the words at the end of the sentence, “...And the Witness shall be known!” remained.  Johnny said that it had an ineffable quality to it.  Eventually, it wore away but Johnny bought a blue neon sign that says simply, “The Witness”  There is a jack-leg wooden ramp/loading dock that is around the back so that bands can load in.  All the doors on the exterior of the building are heavy duty metal fire doors.

The Show Floor:

They turn the AC way up because when the club is full it literally can’t keep up with the demand and the place can be sweltering in the dead of winter. (Cigarette and blunt smoke don't help much) Sadly, there really isn’t anything like a coat room. many times the narrow high tables end up being a pile of coats and what not. Again, as outside, nearly everything in the show floor area is painted black. Most of the flat surfaces appear to be a little sticky.  The stage is a 3/4 thrust and tables line the walls, leaving a wide-open space in the center.  One actually enters the stage from a stairwell on the stage right side down from the second level. Legend has it that Jello Biafra accidentally slipped down them and then played an entire set with a dislocated shoulder.

There is an oversized closet on the left-hand wall, that is essentially the area for sound system management. It has a bunkhouse door, so whomever is running sound can sit in there but still see the stage.(sorta)

The Bar: 

Weirdly, the bar, because of the layout of the original building had to be put behind the stage area. There is a wide door to the right of the stage that leads into the bar and patrons are encouraged not to linger in the doorway, usually because the regulars will shove them. Hard.  There is one TV that’s usually tuned to CNN with the sound off. The Witness is NOT the place to come if you want to drink and watch a sporting event. There is an old-school cigarette machine.  The bar is a long burnished oak affair that looks like a proper bar. The bar is also very well stocked. Johnny’s been experimenting with selling microbrewery ales here and that seems to be going ok. You can find a decent selection of whiskey and a few wines as well. It should be mentioned that anyone that orders a PBR or a Milwaukee’s Best in here will have the bartender say, “Here’s your beer, loser.” and the regulars will chorus “LOSER!”  The bartenders are under strict orders.

To the right of the bar are the bathrooms.  The bathrooms are fairly spacious and even at their cleanest, look pretty grungy. They’ve seen a lot of damage over the years and there are some bacteria in here that can only be killed with ritual AND fire.  The bar also has a side door that leads out to the jack-leg dock and the back parking lot.

Behind the bar is a stairwell down into the basement. The downstairs runs the entire length of the place and the floor is thick enough that sound bleed-over is fairly minimal even with a full house and a live band.   The downstairs is almost all storage with a small area set aside for a card table and chairs. There is a set of ANCIENT school lockers where employees can stow their gear. They had to build a cold box down there for keg storage  There is a Dumbwaiter that they use to transport kegs up to the bar level and drinks up to the green room.  But the lift engine is somewhat erratic. Pity the poor bastard who has to hump a keg up the stairs.

The Green Room:

Again, not by choice, the only access to the green room is via the fire escape stairs on the back of the building or the stairs down to the stage. The only other door leads to Johnny’s office. Once a year, Johnny buys nearly indestructible furniture from the local university, and puts it in the green room where it is subjected to the sort of abuse that even college kids can’t manage... and then after a year or so, he arranges a Viking funeral for it in the back parking lot.  Usually on a night when the club is otherwise closed. last year, he invited the rest of the staff and a few friends and there was barbecue.

The green room is home to an impressive collection of graffiti from bands that have passed through this way. Johnny encourages this. There is a go-cup with sharpies that has been thumbtacked to one of the walls.  One graffito even has a frame over it and glass.  Bowie played a nice intimate show here 2 years ago. Word has come down that if anyone obscures Bowie’s signature that the consequences will be terribly dire.

Johnny’s office:  

Johnny’s office is the de-facto place to hang for the staff after hours and for the bands that he’s friendly with.  Johnny has his own fridge and microwave up here. He has a desk up here that had to be brought up in pieces and assembled.  There are only two things of real value up here.  There is a safe in the floor where Johnny drops the nights take. Anyone looking to crack that box better bring heavy tools because you’ll have to take it out of the floor and that won’t be easy. Each of the floor levels in this building are 2 feet thick solid concrete. It’s one of the reasons that things are the way they are here. renovations would NOT be cheap. Building and wiring up the sound closet cost a damn fortune all by itself.

The other thing of value is Johnny’s axe.(“Rosalie”)  He also has a piano up here.  The rest of the office is a long and comfy couch and a stack of folding chairs in the coat closet.(there is also a milk crate in there filled with little percussion instruments and tambourines.) Johnny is most likely to be encountered here after the club has closed and before it’s opened. Mostly after hours, he’s entertaining friends, co-workers, and whomever might be playing tonight.  Before the club opens, he’s trying to untangle the business end or maybe booking acts to play.  When the club is open, Johnny likes to move around, say hi to the regulars, jump in to help if the bar is in the weeds, maybe play on stage a bit. You never know.

The Staff:

Tony Serrano:

Unlike Johnny who grew up tall and then filled out over the years, Tony, his cousin, stayed relative short and compact... So on those rare occasions when Johnny loses his temper and starts laying about himself, it’s intimidating to see.  But you should be more afraid of Tony. Tony is actually a black belt in Brazillian jiu-jitsu and is more than capable of putting guys on the deck that are twice his size. It’s the main reason he enlisted in the army. He got tired of being messed with because he was short.

Tony Serrano is the club’s cooler. He hires the bouncers and makes certain that they err on the side of caution.  He’s got a pretty good radar for when a man might have rage control issues, and if he determines that someone he’s hired has those sorts of problems they are canned on the spot. And in at least two cases,are then sent to the emergency room with multiple broken bones 

Tony don’t play. And although he bitches constantly about being the “Party Dad” it is work that suits him temperamentally.  He almost never smiles, and his sense of humor is Mojave desert dry.  Every once in a while some club girl with daddy issues (usually one he’s saved from being date-raped) tries to climb up in his lap for cuddling. and while he doesn’t discourage this, he’s in his forties and knows that those things won’t last. But while they are going on, well...He almost smiles.

Donna “Sunny” Padget:

Sunny is a tallish, thin woman. nicely built, in her mid-thirties and has an adorable smile. She’s the bar manager and 3/4 of the men, boys, and even a few of the ladies are madly in love with her. This is not helped by the fact that during the summer months when the heat in the place is intolerable, she’ll strip down to shorts and a sports bra while the male bar- tenders are down to shorts alone. The call her “Sunny” because even though like a lot of clientele, she enjoys punk, emo, and goth music, she has one of the most unfailingly bright and sunny dispositions, often being the one person able to cool off a conflict before Tony can get involved.  Loves both of the Serrano boys and they, in turn, would do anything for her.

Get a drink or two in Tony and he starts talking about marrying her.  He’s only half kidding. 

Donna for her part is just slightly more partial to Johnny and they had a thing once on the down low.  But it just made things more complicated and they swore off of it, only occasionally falling into bed again every six months or so.  If Louise Mandrell were to walk into the club, Donna would probably try to scratch her eyes out.

Donna is in charge of all aspects of bar business and does all the hiring for the bar.  Her people radar is not as good as Tony’s but she’s beginning to trust his radar more and more when it comes to people. He was able to tell that Bryce was ripping off the till before the numbers caught up to him and proved it.

The Spiritual level: 

Things around here are not so good. The original building was a sweatshop when it was first built. There was a fire that killed 3 women and gutted the interiors, but people kept trying to make a go of it. The building had good solid bones. Eventually, it became the squatting place of a man who was luring gay men there so he could kill, cook and eat them. 

The grounds HAVE been exorcised. SO there aren’t specific ghost causing troubles, but it has left a kind of psychic stain on the area.  Fights and conflicts that take place here tend to escalate out of control and at times hard feelings can fester for a long time before bursting forth and boiling over.  It’s how Lowell got killed.

Lowell is one ghost that the club has gained since it opened. He was a guy who got killed in a fight that took place in the bar because some scumbag would not keep his hands off of a lady friend of his. Lowell’s been hanging around since.  Occasionally he makes life difficult for any dude who won’t take no for answer. Usually, all it takes to using phantasm to make a young woman’s drink fizz or change color. (making her think she’s been roofied.) Security takes a real dim view of that shit.  Occasionally he’s able to use Terrify to some effect in either the bar mirror or in the bathroom mirror. He’d like to learn Possession and occasionally borrow the body of one of the bouncers.

Connections:

*The Caboose and The Witness have a bit of bleed-over. Bartenders go from one place to another. DJ Big Willy helped to design the sound system, and DJ Psycho-Pirate is in here all the time. Mainly because she's stalking a number of the local musicians.

*Ditto for Noel and Luna from The Grimoire 

*This is a primary pick-up spot for Gilbert Savage from Holmes, Gillis, Baker, Savage, North, and Dean. He enjoys being able to say that he's half-demon to the women he picks up and have them not him seriously. Then he takes them home, and they find out why they should have.

*Lara X frequents the place and can be found here when she's not trolling more specific waters. Johnny has seen her here often enough to consider her a regular and occasionally buys her a drink.

*Darla Grumman used to date a singer and has spent a bit time working on the sound system here. as far as Johnny is concerned, Darla is magic and can do no wrong. Her money is no good in here.

* Johnny knows Teflon John Galloway well enough to ask about his family. John doesn't dig most of the music in here, Not his groove at all. but some of the goth girls...well. Johnny at least knows that if Galloway is dealing on the premises, he's doing it discretely. Few members of the staff don't enjoy getting baked from time to time.

*Joseph Cartolano has been in here tracking vampiric prey. But he knows it's a bad idea to try to attack anyone in a place as public as this one. Tony has marked him as a martial artist.

* Schuyler Lavey used to come in here. One night Lowell took it upon himself to ruin his evening. He hasn't been back since.  Milo Karanikas has also drawn Lowell's notice.

Rika Martinez

Concept: Tulku from the Burbs.

AKA: Master Dorje

Desc: A 14-year-old mixed race young woman. Bright and winning smile. Eyes that seem to say, “I know something you don’t” Confident and polite far beyond her years. Long glossy black hair. Fuck heels, sneakers please. The beginnings of her mother's impressive rack. Musical laugh.  Has a calming air about her.   Is considering a tattoo for her next birthday, but can’t decide what. 

History: Okay. This is where it gets complicated. Rika is the daughter of a former stripper and a former biker. But that’s really on the surface of things. See. Rika is actually a Tulku. She is the reincarnation of a full-on Bodhisattva named Master Dorje. At least that was his name in his last incarnation. It goes further back than that. Rika’s mom is part Tibetan and wouldn’t you know it, this is perhaps the first life that the master was born into that wasn’t within miles of his monastery.

   And you know, Rika/Dorje is pretty okay with that. You know, being a Tulku, she/he is actually pretty chill. And Rika/Dorje has found that life outside the monastery walls is pretty interesting and complex and maybe the other Bodhisattva’s are missing out on great opportunities here out in the world.

Take her parents for example. “Jasmine” (Real name=Dawa) was working at the Caboose some years ago when she met Julio. Back in those days both had a taste for nose candy and they kind of fell into it fast. Julio used to ride with the Diablos. And while he still has friends in that M.C.  There were a couple of cabrons that couldn’t keep their hands off his Kool-Aid, and that lead to him getting ousted and getting the shit kicked out of him.  Dawa took him home...and he never really left after that.

After Rika was born, things changed. Neither one of them felt the need to anything to do anything more to themselves than a couple of beers on the weekend. Julio stopped smoking. Julio, further, put his knowledge to work and now owns his own auto-mechanic’s shop. (He’d be a rich man if he weren’t always cutting deals for poor folks from his neighborhood.) Dawa went back to school, got herself a C.P.A credential and now works at a neighborhood bank as it’s primary loan officer. (Truth be told, she’d have risen higher than she has ,but occasionally she gets a gut instinct about a person and decides to go with her gut. So far, she’s never been wrong but it does tend to get her in hot water with the bank manager.) In the back of both of their minds, is the idea that to do otherwise would be a terrible disappointment to their daughter.

And you know, funny thing, but the tenor of the neighborhood changed after Rika was born. Craziest thing.  Poor folks minded their own business and took good care of the things they owned. The gangs shuffled off to fight over another patch. There was a slow effort at gentrification. Oddly it wasn’t some weird hostile takeover. Some people just left the neighborhood never to be seen again and some new folk moved in and suddenly the Hood was essentially in the burbs. If anyone squawked about it, they didn’t squawk loud.

The main reason for this is that Master Dorje has fierce powers where it comes to the spirit world. Demons and other sorts of baneful spirits perish in terrible fiery agony at her/his touch. Most of them see her inner light and are scared shitless of it.  Ghosts tend to be laid to rest at her touch.  Her BFF Latrice had demon problems until she grabbed her wrist and whispered, “Know peace, little blossom.”  And from that day on, her demons were gone... Well. it should be mentioned that Latrice wrestles with her attraction for Rika, which Rika doesn’t help much by being a tiny bit gender-fluid. But other than that...BFF’s all the damn way.

And Rika is still growing into her powers. Even Dorje doesn’t exactly know how much potential she may yet possess.  The one thing though that is yet undeniable is that she is still mortal. And the baneful spirits may yet find a way to come at her indirectly. Rita listens to this from Dorje (She hasn’t internalized him yet) but she is at the age where she is wondering what path to walk in this life. She’s been a warrior. She’s been a healer. She’s been a priest many times.  She wonders if maybe politics might offer her the best opportunities to help people and raise souls to greater understanding. Time will tell.

Attitude: 

“Ok normally, when a person runs for student council they run on a platform of trying to get a soda machine in the Caf. And hey, that wouldn’t be uncool. But I think that maybe my platform is more about doing things to stop bullying, promote gender equality, and working for greater orientation acceptance. We’re supposed to be learning about the world. Let's learn how to make it a better one. Thank you for your time!”

Skills: Does not drive. But could likely sail a small ship unerringly using only the stars for navigation.  Has a decent pile of dots in both Mentals and Socials and is perfectly average in Physicals for a girl her age. Probably knows fuck-all about modern medicine, but could probably whip up a poultice if she had to.  Has strong social skills and is developing fairly well in beginning to understand the modern age she’s growing up in. Occult 5 with numerous Tibetan flavored specialties to draw on.  Also: 5 dots of Brawl and an attendant 5 additional dots of a soft defensive fighting style. Although Rika already knows that if something comes to blows, she’s likely already failed...and she takes those failures very personally. Speaks fluent Spanish and Tibetan

Gear: Bedazzled smartphone and over-developed thumbs to go with it. Lip gloss pilfered from mom’s stash. Gum. Pocket-knife with Diablos logo on it. Pocket diary written in archaic Tibetan.

Home: Casa Martinez is a peaceful island. The neighbors have become good friends over the years and often come around to soothe their jangled souls. Dawa has actually become fairly good at dispensing good advice to their friends.  and Julio, for his part has helped a few people out of jams that required a little more...force. Not that anyone thinks about it much, but if some disaster were to befall the Martinez family, the neighborhood would come out of the woodwork to help them out in their time of need.

Circle: Rika has her friends and a few people she knows online. Her peer group doesn’t extend very far, but she’s never ever scared of meeting new people and has the utter invincibility of a 14-year-old when it comes to walking up to new people in different places. So it may not stay that way long.

Story Uses:

“Well, that’s silly. Who’d want to hurt me?”

Obviously, There are creatures that would rather like to see Rika taken off the count. They cannot, however, (read=Are too chickenshit) come at her directly. Your PC’s might be in the unusual position of having to protect her, or, worse option, might be the ones tasked to take her out.

“Car crapped out? Must be destiny. My dad’s a mechanic!”

Rita is the sort of character that it’s kind of fun to spring on a PC, especially if they are having the worst day ever. She can, with effort, push down derangements, calm frenzies, suspend mind control, and exorcise spirits and ghosts almost at will.  She can be the answer to very many prayers.

Connections:

* Knows all the "Old Girls" at The Caboose and refers to them as Auntie (stage-name here) Can't help but bump into them at the grocery. On those rare occasions when Dawa goes to visit them, Rika tags along and even Carl and Razor Burn are polite. Anybody who knows Burn knows that it's probably because Psycho-Pirate told him once that if he so much as looks at Rika or Dawa wrong, they'll never find his body.

* On rare occasions, she has to ride the bus to get someplace. She and Charlie have had long intricate talks about things.

She's also had some contact with Lewis Flowers and she's seen his aura.  She'd like to set him free, but he avoids her like the plague.

* Has heard tell of Grace Cook. Went looking. Found her, but wasn't able to lay her to rest. It was frankly disconcerting. More study is required perhaps.

* Caused John Patmos to spontaneously discorporate once at a chance encounter. It was frankly disconcerting...for both of them. John has NO idea what was able to do that to him and he is, as you might imagine, a bit concerned.

* Loves The Grimoire. Her favorite after-school stop.

* Loves Rory O'Halloran's truck Paddy's Wagon. Has a bit of a crush on Walter, who has a bit of a crush on Luna Krumholtz at the Grimoire. So it's a little tricky.

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"

Dr. Payton Breckinridge

Concept: Golden Boy and all around Mensch

AKA: His middle name is Richard and is known by people he went to school with as Rick or Ricky.

Desc: Easy smile. Bright blue eyes. Blond hair (only slightly receding) The frame of a former linebacker. Left knee bothers him when it gets cold. Still runs to keep fit. Has given up smoking but has gone over to Vaping. Still is fond of the occasional brewskis, but has become something of a whiskey snob.

History: Peyton would be an easy guy to hate. He’s from an old money family and has had every single advantage a rich white person can enjoy growing up. He’s strong, well built. athletic eats like a starving wolf and doesn’t get fat from it. He’s a good-looking son of a bitch and he heads up a medical concern that makes money hand over fist.

Also, he’s a generally likable fellow and doesn’t seem to be a douchebag about religion or politics like so many rich folks seem to be.

      There are reasons. Forrest Breckinridge, his father, and patriarch of the Breckinridge family had different ideas about the path of Payton’s life. From an early age, Peyton was groomed for a career in politics and business. What his father failed to take into account, and what his mother noticed early on, was that Payton had a very very sweet and loving disposition. Most of the advice his father would give him about who was worthy and who could be trusted and wasn’t, just sort of rolled off of him. He just wasn’t wired the way his father wanted.

   Another element of his character surfaced early, and his father completely missed its significance. Payton was raised around horses and he was encouraged to have animals. Father thought that this right and meet and proper for a young man of his station and he was further proud of Payton’s willingness to make sure that his animals were properly cared for after the ride was over.  Forrest seemed to see that maybe his ideas of Nobless oblige were taking root in some small way.

    But that wasn’t it at all. Payton loved animals. And unlike any of the humans in his life, Animals never judged him.   He made a decision in his teens that someday, he would turn his hand to doing something with animals.  And he began to plan ahead. because he knew his father wouldn’t approve.

   Payton took every bit of pocket money he could save, birthday savings bonds, and some financial advice from sympathetic cousins and squirreled it away into high yield mutual funds. He began sabotaging entrance interviews to the prestigious business schools that he’d been sent to and finally landed an interview to a veterinary school that he DID want to go to.

    So essentially, when he presented to his father that he was going to the finest veterinary school in the country, on a scholarship no less, when his father melted down completely and cut him off, he turned around funded his first year of college out of his own pocket.  

 Oh, it wasn’t easy. There was a lot of ramen and peanut butter. There were a lot of part-time jobs held down in order to stay in school. He mucked out stalls. he worked retail. He tended bar. It was actually good for him, shook out those last kinks of his father attitudes.

   And you know, They might have mended their fences eventually. Mom worked on him some. And Forrest had to admit that his eldest son had some spine.  (The same could not be said for some of the other Breckinridge offspring. Payton, for his part, still loved his father but he had inherited at least a bit of his drive and ambition. Payton knew that he could never apologize to his father because to do so, would mean, in his father’s mind, that Payton had been wrong. And Payton was NOT ever going to denigrate the life he’d built for himself by allowing him that.

Them Breckinridge men can be a bit stiff-necked.  But as I say, they probably would have patched it up eventually.

If Mother hadn’t died.  Both men loved her and both men grieved over her, and anyone who went to the funeral could see that it had affected them both rather badly. There were words. Payton walked away and while he still maintains contact with his siblings, he and father do not speak. To be clear here. Forrest isn’t some fucking monster. He deeply regrets the things he said. So does Payton. But neither is willing to budge.  It may be that it’s too late for all that.

   In any case, Payton has a thriving business called “Regional Veterinary Associates” He took a good deal of the business acumen he possesses and leveraged it into a full on veterinary practice that functions much like a shared doctor practice does.  The practice also has a fleet of pick-up trucks and horse trailers. Some have been outfitted as a mobile lab/operating theater and others are just horse trailers. And for the most part, Payton doesn’t even have to play the market anymore in order to shore up the business.  They’ve even managed to land the contract for necropsies from the local horse race-course.

Oh sure. it’s not ALL beer and skittles.  His siblings still try to set him up with women that they think Payton will like(read= not be an embarrassment to the family). They are usually wide of the mark. Most of them are far too spoiled.  Payton isn’t really one to look for himself. (“Who has the time?”)  He HAS learned to introduce them all to his BFF/senior partner, Bailey King.

Bailey has pretty good people radar and over the course of a friendship stretching back to equestrian events in their teens, has worked out a pretty elaborate series of hand gestures.  She’s usually pretty good at sussing out the women who are completely wrong for him. (Although at least one of those girls ended up being right for her and they’ve been going strong for years. Payton was best man at their wedding.)  

If there’s one real fly in the ointment. It’s that certain people still have plans for Payton. Plans that he wasn’t asked about and that if he knew of them, wouldn’t want any part of.

Attitude: “Chelsea, I’m not going to lie to you. Phantom’s leg is never going to be as strong again as it was. He’ll probably never race again. But he’s responding well to the treatment and he’s got a good even temper, so he’s not likely to hurt himself. I think you can still get a lot of use out him for the rest of his days. He might be VERY good breeding stock and I know a few people you can call.  So...his role will change. certainly.   But each day you get to spend with him is still a gift.”

Skills: He’s good(3+) at nearly every aspect of being an adult human being except lying. Manipulation 1, still... after all these years. Doesn’t mean he can’t sniff them out, though. Can’t get far in business without that. He is extremely well educated. Has lots of dots of Medicine, Animal Ken and a passel of specialties to go with them. He is a very capable equestrian and used to play polo like a demon. He learned a number of skills from his father. Academics specialty in Business, and a few dots of Politics. No combat skills to speak of.Although his football days means that he's not entirely incapable of a fight.  A very smart guy, but also fairly sociable too.  His main social skill is that he tends to be fairly relaxed, and doesn’t tend to get offended by people who aren’t trying to offend him. A skill he wishes his brother and sisters would learn.

Gear: Payton has resisted getting a smartphone for ages, but there are simply too many useful apps for a medical practitioner. He normally carries a pocket-knife which also has a straight razor blade. and a small matching multi-tool. He carries a large tool bag that he got at Home Depot. Largest one he could find with the most pockets. He keeps a bewildering array of useful medical tools and medicines in there. Normally keeps it in the metal box on the back of his Pick-up. He also has a pocket of animal/people treats. and he’s normally got his iPad on him.

Home: While he certainly LIKES his iPad, His house is mostly furnished in bookcases. Payton keeps it simple for the most part. Has a nice house in an upscale neighborhood, nice pool and hot tub. He’s got a barn out back and there’s enough space to ride...But he’s home so seldom he can’t stand the idea of his OWN horse being neglected.  His cleaning lady Marta doesn’t really have a lot to do on Thursday when she comes around. But he enjoys making breakfast for the both of them and telling her stories about things going on at the office.  Bailey likes Marta. So does Payton if he were ever honest with himself about it.

He does, however, have an extensive aquarium and a cat, Abraham, who watches the fish-tank like its television.

Circle:Payton is a people person and he enjoys knowing people from all manner of social strata. He effortlessly rubs elbows with rich scions of various families in town  but thinks nothing of sidling up to the horse trainers at various places, buying them a pint of bitters and listening to their endless stories. He’s even helped out getting the occasional cat out of a tree. Yeah, I know.  He’s sickeningly sweet like that. People just like him and he seems to have a real gift for connecting with them through their pets.  He’s the kind of fellow you want to be a better person around. 

Story Uses:

“I only tango a little..” 

He might make a good S.O. for a female character.  He’s a decent guy but he’s seen some things you know?  and he certainly isn’t stupid. Girl, you could do worse.

“What the hell? What are these chemicals? and how did they GET here?”

Also: you should be aware that if there is something weird going on in the animal world of your town, especially anything large scale. Payton is likely going to have it cross his desk. County Animal Control might know about it first. But eventually Payton will find out, and he will want to know exactly what the hell.

Connections:

*Once, DJ Psychopirate sat in the RVA lobby with Payton's arm around her shoulders as she ugly-cried for a solid hour when he told her that her kitty Vandal Savage was going to have to be euthanized. DjPp never forgets a kindness like that.

*Anytime Ms. Blavatski from The Grimoire has a medical issue. This is where they come.  Ms. B. Doesn't seem to respond well to homeopathic remedies.
*Is on a first name basis with Pat and Darlene Borland of The Borland Farm. "Most aggressive damn hogs I have ever seen."
* When RVA opened their new facility for the first time, Patricia "Carnie" Pitt came down and interviewed Payton. Commented that he was a natural on camera. Also, she brings Bud and Lou down for a yearly check-up ever since Lou swallowed a bath sponge whole. That was a bit dicey.
* Knows Lillian Penobscot of course. She's nice enough but when she gets a drink or two in her she starts talking a bunch of superstitious nonsense.  Her friend Lorna Crane seems to eye him hungrily, though. She's fetching enough, but Bailey waved him off. "You are not to fuck that woman." she said. "you are not to fuck that woman with a STOLEN dick!"
*Has known Meredith Shaw since pre-school. Probably the only time most people have really seen Payton angry was an incident at an event, where he yanked the riding crop out of her hands and broke it over his knee. Meredith is actually a tiny bit scared of the utter fury she saw on his face that day. She usually avoids him at social events if she can.
* Naturally, the Breckinridge family is one of "Those" families. Forrest has been a member of The Vermillion House for ages and has been angling to try to become a member of the Inner Circle. (They seem strangely reticent for some reason.) But Payton's name comes up in their meetings from time to time. Oh...They know he doesn't have the temperament. But his brother Bartholomew and his two sisters are a seething cauldron of volcanically hot mess. They'd prefer that Payton inherit the bulk of the family's assets and continue using them at the House's behest. They'd like that very much.

Meredith Shaw

Concept: Executive/Corporate Streamliner/ HBIC

AKA:None

Desc: Long blonde hair,normally worn up and off her slender neck. Blue eyes. Natural hauteur. A certain frosty elegance set off by a seemingly easy grace (Which took some time at finishing school to develop.) Smart eyes. Reading glasses which she’s a little vain about. An expensive smile. a scar where she had her sorority tramp stamp removed. flawless taste in clothes. Never wears jewelry. Just doesn’t like the feel of it.

History: From an old money family, raised all her life to a certain amount of privilege. Meredith is the sort of girl who was groomed to a certain amount of control over her destiny.

Just...not as much as she would have liked. She discovered fairly early, that she’d rather be the spanker rather than the spankee, and once she got over her desire to date bassists, she discovered that while she was able to find men of affluence who desired a woman who could take control...She found that she couldn’t respect most of them once she’d “Conquered” them.  Hard cheese really.

    Meredith found that she actually had a talent for numbers and a decent knowledge of how business worked and so she went out and got herself an MBA. Picked out a prestigious firm to take her internship at, and once she’d served her time, had the head-hunting firm call her at work and talked with them at length about options. The firm pulled her in and offered her a major jump-up and a fast track to a corner office. These things were never in any actual doubt.  One of the partners in the firm was a distant uncle and a meteoric rise was expected of her.  She’d never been feckless, unambitious, or lazy in her life.

Well. A girl like that is going to come under scrutiny by someone with actual power.  And that creature...liked what he saw.

   So. Here is the shape of what she does now: Weyland Diversification acquires another corporation, usually through a hostile takeover. Often the company puts down a token amount of their own money but then runs to the BIG banks for massive loans to purchase the shares (or buy off the companies management with lucrative bonuses. They’re usually floundering companies with still decent cash flow. Then they send Meredith. Meredith then determines how best to cut every single micron of fat off the company. The problem is, that whatever the massive loan was needed to acquire the company, The company is now on the hook to repay that loan.

So let’s say that Weyland put down 5% on a 200 million dollar loan to acquire a company that makes baked goods. And they’re able to acquire the company, now that company’s bottom line is untenable almost immediately. The INTEREST on the loan is enough to make you start firing people immediately in order to get costs back under control. Fortunately, Weyland has a bright girl like Meredith there to tell you who to fire, and for this useful service, they’ll charge the company a management fee of about a couple million dollars a year. And you know that money isn’t going to come from the board or it’s chairman. It’s going to come out of the bennies and payroll of the workforce.

  And let’s say that the company slashes its workforce and benefits and manages to pay off some of the debt from both sources, Then that just leaves it in a vulnerable state for being re-sold at enormous markup.  Or they can go bankrupt and shutter themselves, but the vultures at Weyland will still be able to get most of their assets liquid before that happens.  It’s a bust out scheme really.  And it’s destroyed more than one factory town.

Meredith makes a lot of money. And all the people that get fucked by this system...Well. They all chose to be poor and smoke the crack or whatever.  Each new assignment excites her a little because she goes to the companies, and usually figures out the most alpha male employed by the company, seduces him, ties him up and works him over for hours without ever really letting him come, and then, as soon as is humanly possible sees to it that he gets fired first.

Yeah. she likes it like that.  Her “master” taught her that game.

Attitude: “Look. I’m not saying that our company is necessarily all about positive changes in the business world. Capitalism isn’t a moral philosophy. it has no moral compass. But we do what we do, and we protect our shareholders. If it were a problem, the market would correct it.  You can’t blame us for that”.

Skills: High intelligence and high manipulation are a must. Ivy league education with a specialization in business. Recent events have given her cause to purchase a handgun and run a couple hundred shells through it every other week. She’ll have dots in firearms, but probably no style merits.  She has dots of Mentor, and that mentor will have told her what to be on the lookout for when dealing with other supernatural creatures.  So she’ll likely have at least 1 dot of occult and possibly an Unseen Sense or two. (Standing orders are that if she runs into something like that, to call home immediately.) She’ll be likely to be loaded up on socials skills and computer. She’s also a seasoned Equestrian and is like to have some dots of Animal Ken. She tends to treat animals the same way she treats humans.

Gear: Top of the line Laptop, with a top of the line laptop bag. A LOADED smart-phone. Her sig-sauer, which her Mentor suggested she carry Glaser slugs in, and an extra clip in her purse. On company business, she'll take one of the armored Lincoln town cars with one of the company drivers skilled in defensive driving.   Her own vehicle is a cherry red Maserati. Most cop cars can’t catch it.

Home: Meredith has a few places to hang her hat should there be a need. When traveling for the company she’ll take the best suite in a Residence Inn, or failing that, the largest suite in the Radisson nearest to where the job is.  Here at home, she has a cozy little brownstone in a neighborhood where no one takes home less than a million a year after taxes.  She also can go home and stay in her old room in the Shaw family manse, she’s had a decorator in and it no longer looks like she just left for prep school

Circle: Her family and her few friends, They love her but even they have to admit that Meredith has ice water in her veins. Most of her peer group at work consider her spooky bright and a little scary. Not to mention that while a lot of those guys are complete sexual jackals, Meredith makes it clear that if a co-worker and she have some sort of sexual issue, THEY will be the one leaving the company, not her. As a result, most of those dudes give her respectful distance. They saw what happened to Tripp.

No. If Meredith has any love at all in that heart of hers, It all belongs to Uncle Josiah. He was the one who saw her and truly understood her for what she was for the first time in her life. He elevated her.  He made her more than she was. More than just some rich girl.  More than just some human digging in the dirt.

Story Uses:

“Me? I’m just the tip of the iceberg. The iceberg that’s going to fall on you.”

She not a pawn by any stretch. She’s likely to be more of a Bishop to extend the metaphor. But she’ll be the human face of the corporate monolith that is crushing your company.

Some people take exception to that sort of thing. She’s been shot at more than once, and on some occasions, the security measures that Weyland have adopted have made a serious difference.

“I’m not interested. 98.4% percent of all men at these sorts of functions bore me to tears.”

The other pathway that one might encounter Ms. Shaw is via some desire to enter high society. She’s not easily impressed nor is she likely to show any emotion at all. These gatherings are expected in her social circles. But she’s not making money doing it, so unless she can network it’s mostly a waste of time. Most of the men at these things are duller than dog shit. and vanilla to boot.

Connections:

*The Shaw family is a long-time pillar family of The Vermillion House. Those functions are a bit different from other social occasions that she's forced into.  Normally, she's allowed to wander around with a mask on and a riding crop in her hand and whack anything thrust out at her. This alone puts it head and shoulders above most parties she attends. Uncle Josiah is NOT a member of the inner circle, but he is considered a staunch ally of the House.

*At one of those functions, she met Schuyler Lavey but finds him utterly tiresome. He's constantly trying to prove he's more domme than she. Uncle Josiah may be looking a way to use him, though, so for now, he gets to keep his genitals.

*Through the House she also knows Reverend Mike Plumber. She wonders if he knows that his eldest son enjoys being pegged as much as he does.

*Has done some business with Holmes, Gillis, Baker, Savage, North, and Dean but hasn't really bumped uglies with anyone there. They are, after all, "The Help"

*Met Dmitri Garrett at the gun range, and after a bit of gun talk, got his card. She's kicked some business in his direction involving companies that got clever at hiding assets.

*Knows Lillian Penobscot. In fact, calls her "Aunt Lilly" One of the few people she actually likes a bit. Aunt Lilly seems weirdly glamorous to Meredith and seems to know plenty about the shadowy world to boot.

*Officer Honus Brightwater swears he's going to catch that hot bitch in the Maserati someday and then he's going to jam it in every hole she's got. It is almost certainly the worst decision he's ever made.

Jamal Cooper

Concept: Set leader

AKA: J-Money,  Bones.

Desc: Wiry and full of energy. Refuses ink, although he tells people it’s due to religious conviction, it’s because he’s got a weird phobia about it. Hot light of potential madness spilling out of his eyes. (Already a bit paranoid) Talks too much for his own good. Never wears anything he couldn’t break into a dead run in. Wears a black suit on occasion when attending his local mosque.

History: Jamal and Tyronne came up together. They used to be tight. Then Jamal got popped and went away. There wasn’t much Tyronne could do.

Jamal had never been inside before, and well. He got approached by some guys who felt he ought to be part of the community. Jamal wasn’t keen on it, but he went along because it’s rare for anyone to be able to get along inside without crewing up. 

  Slowly, over time, and with a lot of time to think about it, Jamal became a true believer. Hey, it happens that way sometimes. Now, granted, the flavor of Islam that Jamal embraced was a fairly radical (and skewed) strain of it.  And sure, while he idolizes Malcolm “X”, Malcolm, were he alive today, would probably find a follower like Jamal to be horrifying and incomprehensible.

   Like for instance, Jamal has a set of his own now and is seemingly keen on controlling drug trade on his patch. While he is draconically strict about anybody in his set using drugs, He doesn’t seem to have a problem with selling poison to anyone outside of his crew.  He’ll fuck any woman who floats into his field of vision, but any woman who wants anything more than that will have to abide by his increasingly conservative standards about how “His” woman should act. (which, if we’re being truthful, is how he drives off any woman who wants to get serious.)  He talks a lot of shit about religion and politics without seeming to recognize that it’s guys like him that are part of the problem.

Jamal's set is known as the “Wild Eyes” and they have a rep for being able to hit hard, and fast, and fade into the woodwork. Sadly, they also have a rep for having a lot of fucking soap opera shit going on behind the scenes. Jamal’s set tends to attract a certain type of dude, and usually, that sort of dude is the kind with an amount of bad wiring that wouldn’t make him useful to any other set.  Over the years, Jamal and Tyronne have gone at it some.  Jamal tends to win little battles, his hit and fade strategy tending to win the day in the short term. But Tyronne thinks things through and when he DOES move he usually reaches out and crushes some element of Jamal’s operations completely.  Jamal goes off and licks his wounds, rebuilds and when he feels like he can come back on Tyronne, the cycle starts all over again.  Likely, someday Tyronne will completely eradicate the Wild Eyes. But that day hasn’t come yet.

Attitude:  “Allah has shown me that my way will be to control these streets. Organized crime is the natural enemy to disorganized crime. Someone. Nah...fuck that. I...I will need to be the one who does that. This is my work. These are my streets and when I am unchallenged here...I won’t need the drugs. I won’t even need the guns anymore. You’ll see.”

Skills: Say what you will about Jamal’s mental acuity, his ability to think fast is not in question. He’s can think on his feet. He's good enough with guns to have Gunslinger, and fast enough on his feet to outrun most trouble. He’s manipulative enough to stay on top of his Set (usually by pitting his boys against outside enemies or one another.) He has average resolve and a paltry amount of composure. (He tends to flip out when stressed).  He’s got dots of whatever passes for a dirty street fighting style in your chronicle. He’s decent with a shiv.

Gear: Jamal is weird about his guns. He never uses an automatic if he can help it. He had a stretch there where he had a couple of jams and swore never again. He carries his sidearms (twin nickel-plated 45’s) under his armpits and two smaller pistols in a jackass rig on each arm. He also has a kevlar vest that he took off of a policeman, who had no further use for it. For close up work he favors sap gloves and a straight razor with silver filigree. Likes his weapons flashy, Jamal does.  He carries a dumb phone and a little notebook. The little notebook is likely to get him sent away for a LONG time if it’s ever recovered in a bust. Jamal naturally congratulates himself on the idea that his operation can’t be hacked.

Home: You can’t be white, a cop, or be wearing colors from any other set and be walking around Danforth Duplexes (and most of the surrounding subdivision) without Jamal getting a call. Jamal moves around within the neighborhood from time to time in order to make it harder for anyone to draw a bead on him. The guy who owns the complex is scared shitless of him. (And the fact that Jamal keeps a professional eye on the guy’s son is just icing on the cake.) Most of the Wild Eyes also bunk down here so any rush against the complex is going to draw them out.  You can usually tell who the bangers are in the neighborhood parking lot by the rims. Nobody else living in the Danforth can afford that shit.

Circle: Most of the people that know Jamal, who AREN’T in his crew, don’t really want to know him. His rep is that he’s crazy/volatile. This includes the people at his Mosque and the members of the Zimbabwe Elks Lodges that he’s been trying to cozy up to. Jamal isn’t trying to kid himself about going legit, he just wants some hooks into people with real money. The only people who are looking maybe to connect up with Jamal are a small group of Ascended Ones who might be willing to use him as a distribution network for their product. Who knows, Jamal might be useful as a hunter too.

Story Uses:

“Yo man. The war is already here. Yo dumb ass ain’t chose a side yet, that’s all.”

The constant back and forth between him and Tyronne is going to be a backdrop in any story that takes place in the streets or the neighborhood. Nobody wants to get caught in that crossfire, and they don’t don’t want anybody they love to get caught there either. But that shit happens. All the time. Also, if you’re part of a faction that’s simply trying to do your own business, the question is not IF you’ll be dragged into the mess. It’s WHEN.

“Well you know. I had a vision for how it was all gonna be. and then someone came along who saw it my way...”

Jamal, unlike Tyronne, is ripe for some kind of supernatural recruitment. Although truth be told, he’s something of a loose cannon. This is not to say that that can’t be fixed or rehabbed. But still, he’s a bit of a fixer upper.

"I am here because Allah sent me to you tonight. Your words will determine what will happen next."

Jamal has a twisted relationship with mainline Islam. and it comes out in odd ways. He's secretly contributing to his local Mosque and that's a fairly positive thing. But occasionally things happen in the community that make him want to get involved as some kind of avenging angel. This is rarely good for anyone involved.

Connections:

* Immanuel Washington and Jamal went to school together. Neither seems to know about the other being in town. Manny is likely to be one of the few people that Jamal could run into that has exactly no fear of him. it would likely go badly for Jamal and whomever was with him.

*Jamal swears that a few years ago he saw Grace Cook out walking around. It happens that he's not bullshitting.

* Cullen Gillis of the law firm Holmes, Gillis, Baker, Savage, North, and Dean is a distant relation (Neither is sure exactly how. Jamal just calls him an uncle.) Cullen is also a member of the Zimbabwe Elks, (although he hasn't been terribly active in years.) Cullen is trying to determine whether Jamal would be a useful asset or more trouble than he's worth.

*Some years ago, Detective Bela Janofski was involved in a buy-bust that went very south and he took 4 bullets.  Guess who was the asshole who started shooting first?

* Charlie seems to have a sixth sense about when shit is going down between the gangs. He'll often look up and mumble, "Wild Eyes on the wind." and then make himself scarce.