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__NOTOC__
__NOTOC__
''"You get one complaint. After that you get suppositories"''
[[File:FFChef0002.png|200px]]
[[File:FFChef0002.png|300px|right]]
{|
| colspan="2" | '''Name:''' Pepper John
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Handle / nickname:''' Pip
| colspan="2" |
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Profession:''' Cook/Medic
| colspan="2" |
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Home world:''' Blue Sky
| colspan="2" |
|-
| colspan="2" |'''Sex (Age):''' Male
| colspan="2" |
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Education:''' University of Life
| colspan="2" |
|-
| colspan="2" | '''Damaged Veteran:''' Hard Experience
| colspan="2" |
|}
=Statistics=


{| class="wikitable"
'''T''' ''is for Time''
!
!Score
!x5
!What Others Notice
|-
|'''Strength'''
|00
|00
|
|-
|'''Constitution'''
|00
|00
|
|-
|'''Dexterity'''
|00
|00
|
|-
|'''Intelligence'''
|00
|00
|
|-
|'''Power'''
|00
|00
|
|-
|'''Charisma'''
|00
|00
|
|}


:''It bends to my will''


==Derived Attributes==
::''It does what I say''


{| class="wikitable"
:::''For good or for ill''
!
!Current
!Maximum
|-
|'''Hit Points (HP)'''
|00
|00
|-
|'''Willpower (WP)'''
|00
|00
|-
|'''Sanity (SAN)'''
|00
|00
|-
|'''Breaking Point (BP)'''
|00
|00
|}


==Incidents of SAN loss without going insane==
----


{| class="wikitable"
'''MY NAME IS . . .''' Pepper John
|-
|'''Violence'''
|O
|O
|O
|''adapted''
|-
|'''Helplessness'''
|O
|O
|O
|''adapted''
|}


'''AND I AM A . . .''' Culinary Assassin


==Archetype :: Doctor/Nurse==
----
Pip was trained as a medic in the Navy, but he was billeted as a quartermaster and a cook. He never saw combat, but he was responsible for supplying those that did. It's not glamourous knowing what's what, what's where, how much you have, how much you need, and how much it will cost, but it's steady work.


== Stats ==
'''WHAT'S BEEN KEEPING YOU AWAKE?''' Weird newspaper showed up at my dorm with my picture splashed across the front claiming I had done the unthinkable . . . a week from now.
'''AGE''' 37 | '''HT''' 5'10" | '''WT''' 180 LBS | '''SKIN''' Swarthy | '''EYES/HAIR''' Dark/Pale


'''STR''' 9 | '''CON''' 10 | '''DEX''' 12 | '''INT''' 10 | '''POW''' 17 | '''CHA''' 14
'''WHAT JUST HAPPENED TO YOU?''' It was just the one little tentacle at first, growing out of my shoulder, but Professor Barkley saw it and tried to restrain me, screaming . . .  well the things he yelled were hurtful even it he was doing it in a falsetto that would've turned Freddie Mercury's head. Before I knew it, he was covered in slippery blinding ink - I guess my tentacles spray the stuff when I'm scared - and whacked his head and went down like a bag of lawn gnomes at a dirt convention.


'''HP:''' 10/10 | '''WP''' 17 | '''SAN''' 85 | '''BR''' 68 | '''MS''' 99 | '''RS''' 85
Anyway, no one but us was at the pier that early, and by the time prof came around and started screaming his story to anyone who would listen, I had ungrown the tentacle. When the cops finally turned out, his raving bought him one of those buckle-in-back hug-yourself canvas jackets and an all expenses paid trip to West Oak Assylum.


'''Damage Bonus:''' +0
'''WHAT'S ON THE SURFACE?''' Second year college girl with t-shirts in seven different colors that read ''Snack Sized'', strawberry blonde hair, and a bodywide star map of freckles.


=Statistics=
I'm pretty much always kicking about in comfortable clothes and shoes. Recently, I have taken to carrying a dual filter gas mask wherever I go as well, because reasons.


{| class="wikitable"
I'm studying marine biology and absolutely obsessed with cephalopods, the tangled little cuties.
!
!Score
!x5
!What Others Notice
|-
|'''Strength'''
|00
|00
|
|-
|'''Constitution'''
|00
|00
|
|-
|'''Dexterity'''
|00
|00
|
|-
|'''Intelligence'''
|00
|00
|
|-
|'''Power'''
|00
|00
|
|-
|'''Charisma'''
|00
|00
|
|}


'''WHAT LIES BENEATH?''' I grow tentacles now. They are long, strong, and spray ink on command. I am as easily blinded by my own ink as anyone I'm targeting with it, and I never want to find out what it might taste like by the throatful, hence the gas mask.


==Derived Attributes==
I can ungrow tentacles as fast as I grow them - for some reason they never seem to damage my clothes, even when they sprout right through them - but the ink doesn't just go awsy once it's spilt.


{| class="wikitable"
'''WHAT IS YOUR PATH?''' The path I walk seems to be a neverending spiral leading me ever inward, ever deeper and darker, but at the same time forces me ever outward, ever upward, and into the light.
!
!Current
!Maximum
|-
|'''Hit Points (HP)'''
|00
|00
|-
|'''Willpower (WP)'''
|00
|00
|-
|'''Sanity (SAN)'''
|00
|00
|-
|'''Breaking Point (BP)'''
|00
|00
|}


==Incidents of SAN loss without going insane==
<nowiki>*</nowiki>''shrug''*


{| class="wikitable"
All I know is I have to keep walking . . .
|-
|'''Violence'''
|O
|O
|O
|''adapted''
|-
|'''Helplessness'''
|O
|O
|O
|''adapted''
|}


=Bonds=
'''WHAT CRIME WILL YOU BE ACCUSED OF COMMITTING?''' According to the paper, I'm going to sell portable strobe lamps to the ''Little Sisters of Labyrinth Lane''. Who among the Awake would ever ''do'' that? Hell, who among ''Nightmares''? Those teddy bear dragging, knife wielding little shits would take over the Mad City altogether with tools like that. They'd be nigh ''unstoppable''.
----


{| class="wikitable"
'''FLIGHT''' [[file:d2b.png|24px]] | '''FIGHT''' [[file:d1b.png|24px]]
!
----
!Score
|-
|Blankette (daughter)
|00
|-
|Blanker (retired former partner)
|00
|}


==Motivations and Mental Disorders==


=Skills=
<u>'''EXHAUSTION TALENT'''</u>
Administration (10) | Alertness (20) | Appraise (10) | Art (Type) (0) | Artificial Intelligence (0) | Athletics (30) | Charm (20) | Cosmology (10) | Craft (Type) (0) | Disguise (10) | Dodge (30) | Drive (20) | Firearms / Beam Weapons (20) | First Aid (10) | Foreign Language (Type) (0) | Forensics (0) | Hacking (0) | Harangue (10) | Heavy Machinery (10) | History (10) | Insight (10) | Law (Type) (0) | Medicine (0) | Melee Weapons (30) | Military Training (Type) (0) | Navigate (10) | Occult (10) | Persuade (20) | Pharmacy (0) | Pilot (Type) (0) | Planet/Station Lore (Type) (0) | Psychoanalyze (10) | Research (10) | Science (Type) (0) | Search (20) | Stealth (10) | Surgery (0) | Survival (Type) (10) | Swim (20) | Technology Use (0) | Track (10) | Unarmed Combat (20) | Unnatural (0) | Xenoarchaeology (0) | Zero-G Maneuvering (0) |


=Physical Injuries and Ailments=
'''Vanishing Act:''' There is not a surface too smooth or steep for me to climb or cling to and no crevice too small or narrow that I cannot slip through. Just like the cephalopods my newfound form apparently mimics.
<br>
----
<br>
<u>'''MADNESS TALENT'''</u>
<br>Has First Aid been attempted since your last injury? If yes, only Medicine, Surgery, or long-term rest can help further


=Armor and Equipment=
'''Tangly Tentacles:''' I can cause tentacles to grow out of my flesh, tentacles that can grip anything, reach anything, haul me up anything, grapple anything.  
''Standard Special Agent Equipment from Agent's Handbook'' (Agency badge and identification card, medium pistol in a belt holster, two spare magazines in a belt pouch, tactical light, handcuffs in a belt pouch, Kevlar vest, windbreaker jacket printed with the name of the agency, encrypted smartphone, police-band radio with earpiece and throat microphone, small evidence-collection kit. Maybe a light pistol in an ankle or small-ofthe-back holster for backup. Additional equipment usually carried in the agency car includes a light carbine with holographic sight and two spare magazines, or a pump-action shotgun with 40 spare rounds in boxes (half of them slugs), tactical body armor, Kevlar helmet, encrypted laptop with access to agency networks, first aid kit, and a portable fire extinguisher.)


=Weapons=
Bonus, each and every sucker pad is capable of oozing literal quarts of ink.


{| class="wikitable"
|
|Skill %
|Base Range
|Damage
|Armor Piercing
|Kill Damage
|Kill Radius
|Shots
|-
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|-
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|-
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|-
|}


=Personal Details, Work Performance, Special Training and Other Notes=
'''(1-2 Madness Dice)''' I grow one or two tentacles the length of an arm with the strength of a fit athlete. I can completely drecnch another human being in ink.
Robert B. Westlake graduated from the University of Tennessee with a degree in Criminal Justice in 1988. He spent a few years with the Tennessee Highway Patrol and then was accepted into the FBI Academy.  He graduated from Quantico and became a badged FBI agent in 1993.  Along the way, he married his late wife Carol and they had one daughter, Emily.


By the winter of 1994 he'd been inducted into ''Delta Green'', working a variety of investigations over the next half-dozen years. He lost cell members and friends.  His wife died.  He's seen things no man ought to. He nearly lost his badge after certain questions were raised about the presence of his fingerprints near a dead old Nazi in Lawrence, Kansas. Delta Green was with him through all of that.  
'''(3-4 Madness Dice)''' I grow three to four tentacles '''''thrice''''' the length of an arm with the strength of gorillas. I can flood a small alley with ink.


Whatever this new ''thing'' is that the government has stood up in the last few years might be doing the work, but it isn't Delta Green. Westlake - McKay - has worked to avoid coming to the Program's attention, in favor of continuing to protect his daughter, grandson, and the rest of everything with the organization he knows.
'''(5-6 Madness Dice)''' I grow five to six tentacles the length of tall trees with the strength of giant yellow construction machines. I can release enough ink to make several city blocks impassable.

Revision as of 23:36, 30 July 2024

T is for Time

It bends to my will
It does what I say
For good or for ill

MY NAME IS . . . Pepper John

AND I AM A . . . Culinary Assassin

WHAT'S BEEN KEEPING YOU AWAKE? Weird newspaper showed up at my dorm with my picture splashed across the front claiming I had done the unthinkable . . . a week from now.

WHAT JUST HAPPENED TO YOU? It was just the one little tentacle at first, growing out of my shoulder, but Professor Barkley saw it and tried to restrain me, screaming . . . well the things he yelled were hurtful even it he was doing it in a falsetto that would've turned Freddie Mercury's head. Before I knew it, he was covered in slippery blinding ink - I guess my tentacles spray the stuff when I'm scared - and whacked his head and went down like a bag of lawn gnomes at a dirt convention.

Anyway, no one but us was at the pier that early, and by the time prof came around and started screaming his story to anyone who would listen, I had ungrown the tentacle. When the cops finally turned out, his raving bought him one of those buckle-in-back hug-yourself canvas jackets and an all expenses paid trip to West Oak Assylum.

WHAT'S ON THE SURFACE? Second year college girl with t-shirts in seven different colors that read Snack Sized, strawberry blonde hair, and a bodywide star map of freckles.

I'm pretty much always kicking about in comfortable clothes and shoes. Recently, I have taken to carrying a dual filter gas mask wherever I go as well, because reasons.

I'm studying marine biology and absolutely obsessed with cephalopods, the tangled little cuties.

WHAT LIES BENEATH? I grow tentacles now. They are long, strong, and spray ink on command. I am as easily blinded by my own ink as anyone I'm targeting with it, and I never want to find out what it might taste like by the throatful, hence the gas mask.

I can ungrow tentacles as fast as I grow them - for some reason they never seem to damage my clothes, even when they sprout right through them - but the ink doesn't just go awsy once it's spilt.

WHAT IS YOUR PATH? The path I walk seems to be a neverending spiral leading me ever inward, ever deeper and darker, but at the same time forces me ever outward, ever upward, and into the light.

*shrug*

All I know is I have to keep walking . . .

WHAT CRIME WILL YOU BE ACCUSED OF COMMITTING? According to the paper, I'm going to sell portable strobe lamps to the Little Sisters of Labyrinth Lane. Who among the Awake would ever do that? Hell, who among Nightmares? Those teddy bear dragging, knife wielding little shits would take over the Mad City altogether with tools like that. They'd be nigh unstoppable.

FLIGHT | FIGHT


EXHAUSTION TALENT

Vanishing Act: There is not a surface too smooth or steep for me to climb or cling to and no crevice too small or narrow that I cannot slip through. Just like the cephalopods my newfound form apparently mimics.

MADNESS TALENT

Tangly Tentacles: I can cause tentacles to grow out of my flesh, tentacles that can grip anything, reach anything, haul me up anything, grapple anything.

Bonus, each and every sucker pad is capable of oozing literal quarts of ink.


(1-2 Madness Dice) I grow one or two tentacles the length of an arm with the strength of a fit athlete. I can completely drecnch another human being in ink.

(3-4 Madness Dice) I grow three to four tentacles thrice the length of an arm with the strength of gorillas. I can flood a small alley with ink.

(5-6 Madness Dice) I grow five to six tentacles the length of tall trees with the strength of giant yellow construction machines. I can release enough ink to make several city blocks impassable.

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