Jose Sanchez

Points Spent

Value Stat Cost

20 Str 10

14 Dex 4

20 Con 20

20 Body 20

10 Int 0

10 Ego 0

15 Pre 5

10 Com 0

Stat Total: 59

Stat Values include the Basic Luchadore's package.

4/10 Physical Defense 0

4/13 Energy Defense 0

2 Speed 0

8 Recovery 0

40 Endurance 0

40 Stun 0

5" Leaping 1

Derived Total: 1

      Acrobatics        3

      Acting            3

      Breakfall         3

      Contortionist     3

11- CK: Mexico City 2

11- KS: Lucha Libre 2

11- PS: Luchadore 2

      Fringe B: LLM     1

      Rope Master       3

      +1" to Leaping    1

      Mart Maneuvers   30

      Skills            9

Skills Total: 62

      Lucha Libre Strikes   25
        +4d6 damage, +4 Lucha Libre

      Extended Fight Scene  16
        +3d6 CON to not go out

      Luchadore Toughness   18
        +9 PD/+9 ED

      Tightened Muscles      7
        +7 PD

      Luchadore's Intuition  7
        +2 Lucha Libre

      Active Defense        20
        +6 DCV

      100% Pure Machismo     8
        +20 PRE for Presence Attack

Powers Total: 101

Spent Total: 223

Unspent Points: 26

Still need Disadvantages.

Backstory

Jose Sanchez returned from Vietnam in disgrace. The young Marine had been sent to see the CO about his meritorious actions, the ones that had been written up for the MOH, and interrupted the old man doing rude things to several underage Viet ladies. Jose turned and left in disgust and then came the charges of striking an officer. One of the girls objected so the CO had a mark to "prove" Jose hit him.

Booted out of the Corps, unwilling to return to San Antonio in disgrace, Jose caught a bus to Ciudad de Mexico. Durning the war he had seen things that made him sweat in the coldest night; Jose knew his grandmother's wisdom and love still stood for him and he needed a place to recover. The elderly lady has done so for her grandson and he has repaid her with fixing everything around the house, working various odd jobs to bring the family more money, and showering her with the loving adoration an honorable grandson should. Jose's reputation around the neighborhood has started to grow and he has helped several of the other widows and elderly keep their houses are working and safe.

Jose found himself. Gone were the bad dreams. While the memories were still there the dark shadows had lost their hold on Jose. While there was never too much money the neighborhood opened it's doors to each other and the family ties grew stronger every day. Until the Jimenez construction company moved in, that is.

The Jiminez brothers were greedy and saw a new development where the old houses stood. They didn't care that many of the eldery had been born in the houses they now raised their grandchildren in. They didn't care that generations were buried behind the old church up the hill. No one sold to Jimenez though before Jose came back several had started to. Once Jimenez realized the neighborhood was going to resist he sent in a gang of Rudos to change minds or bust heads. They didn't care, as long as they could buy the houses well below cost. Only Jose stood in their way.

It was a dark and stormy night when the Rudos came in swinging chains and kicking in doors. Women screamed and old men tried to weakly fight them off with canes. The Rudos had herded the families into the street so Jorge Jimenez, the older and well dressed brother could address them from the hood of his shiny new Cadillac. Jorge counted on the Rudos to cower the old people and the weather to add import to his otherwise feeble speech. While the Rudos were able to push around the elderly, Jorge hadn't counted on a stray lightening bolt taking out the factory's power and sending everyone home early. He hadn't counted on Jose.

Still, when Jorge and the fifteen rudos saw Jose walking down the street, they didn't seem impressed. Two big thugs went after him while the others jeered and called his parentage and honor into doubt. As the rain started to pitter patter down the dirt street two big thugs came down as well. Jose kept moving towards Jorge's Cadillac. A sudden bright flash of lightning lit up the scene and then boom of thunder heralded the next three Rudos falling. Jose was taking heavy hits and his normally atheletic frame was already worn our from heavy work. But he kept moving towards Jorge's Cadillac.

One of the Rudos knocked Jose down with a two by four and two others whipped him with chains. Jose tried to get up but they kept flailing him. Jorge came over and put his sea turtle skinned custom boot on Jose's head and pushed him into the now muddy street while the others looked on in horror. "You are a nobody, Jose! My men beat you like a child and I spit on you. Your grandmother is ashamed of you and the rest of these peasents are laughing at you. You are a nothing, Jose! A nobody!"

Jose's tears mixed with the rain and mud that covered his face. The Darkness from before returned full force and joined with the shame of the lies his old CO had told. The looks the other Mariens had given him when he returned, they not knowing the bravery of his actions in rescuing an entire platoon but only the false story send ahead, came back to Jose. The years spent doing menial chores to help his parents have enough time and money to send he and his sisters to school in clean clothes had worn Jose's self-image down. He lamost believed Jorge.

Almost.

"You are a gift from Jesu." His grandmother had told him. The priest had stopped by and thanked him for the work at the church. Senora Montero had brought a pair jeans she found at a discount store as a thank you for Jose fixing the plumbing in her house. As memory after memory flooded Jose's mind and the storm started washing away the mud and grime, Jose's mind was filled with one glowing thought.

"I know who I am."

The fire of his thought burned through the pain in his muscles as Jose grabbed Jorge's boot and twisted. Flailing, slipping, and unceremoniously landing fat belly down in the mud, Jorge's men started to help their boss up but then backed away. Jose stood, flexing rippling muscles and rain glistened off his taut skin.

"I know who I am." Jose said, as one and then another Rudo fell to his fury.

Jorge and his Rudos escaped that night, though much the worse for wear. Jose's wounds, though serious, did not dismay Senora Montero's nephew who stopped by a few weeks later. He and Jose had a quiet conversation and then shook hands. No one else really needed to know, now, where Jose went to train. And when he came back and shared what money he had earned from his work, everyone congratulated him. A few even gathered around Grandma Sanchez' living room to watch the new television Jose had bought her.

No one really noticed that Jose was gone during all the big Luchadore contests. No one really knew that the nephew ran one of the small but highly respected luchadore schools in the city. No one really doubted how much Jose loved them and worked hard for all of them.

And Jose knew where he came from and who he was.