Savage Reflections 02: Difference between revisions

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==Madness==
==Madness==
:'''Healing''' | PP (3) | Range (Touch) | Duration (instant)
:'''Shapechange wip''' | PP (3) | Range (Touch) | Duration (instant)
::Trappings: ''Fractured/rewritten time''
::Trappings: ''Fractured/rewritten time''
::Description: ''Restores Wounds less than an hour old.''
::Description: ''Restores Wounds less than an hour old.''

Revision as of 18:36, 7 July 2024

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Dirk Johnson

  • Awakened police detective descending into madness.

Ancestry | Awakened | Novice/0 Adv

Pos Traits: Adaptable, Jaded, Exhaustion Talent, Madness

Attributes

Agility || Smarts || Spirit || Strength || Vigor

Derived Stats

Pace || Run || Parry || Size || Toughness 5

Core Skills

Athletics || Common Knowledge || Notice || Persuasion || Stealth

Other Skills

Driving || Fighting || Shooting || Thievery

  • Shooting is Dirk's exhaustion talent

Wealth

|| || || || || ||

Hindrances

  • Insomnia: Taking care of Brock's family and finding Brock's killer for closure.
  • Trauma: Brock's murder and mugging. He was there, he saw the thing first hand and it scared him into doing nothing at the time. He is ashamed for that.
  • Hunted: Kрасный (Krasnyy) the short little fat man with a red beret
  • Vulnerable: Brock had a wife and two daughters. One is a teenager, and the other is four year old.

Traits

  • Adaptable
  • Jaded
  • Exhaustion Talent
  • Madness

Edges

Free Runner: Ignore Difficult Ground and add +2 to Athletics in foot chases. / SWADE p42
Trademark Weapon: +1 to Athletics (throwing), Fighting, or Shooting total with a specific weapon; +1 Parry while weapon is readied. / SWADE p44

Madness

Shapechange wip | PP (3) | Range (Touch) | Duration (instant)
Trappings: Fractured/rewritten time
Description: Restores Wounds less than an hour old.

Equipment/Gear

Armor

Riot Shield - Parry +3; Cover -4; "Found" it during a riot and claimed it as his own. Hangs on his apartment wall. Face covered with various stickers/decals courtesy of Cesar.

Weapons

Unarmed: Str+d6 damage; +1 to Fighting
Pocket Knife: Str+1d4 damage; throwable

Gear

Advances

Backstory

Orso is what one might charitably call "slow". His coordination, both mental and physical, is suspect at best, but he's almost preternaturally talented in the ring.

Orso grew up letting his fists do the talking, but has always been skilled at convincing folks that a good ol' "conversation" was necessary. His younger brother, Cesar, and Orso's parents went missing when they were young and, rather than let the state separate them, they never reported it to the police. While he did his best to protect and guide his younger brother, Orso couldn't scrape together enough time, money, and willpower to keep the bills at bay.

Nearly at his breaking point and directly after a "conversation" went South, resulting in him losing yet another minimum wage job, Orso was approached by a debt-riddled boxing coach. Orso agreed to the possibly literally criminally bad contract, and began letting his fists do their talking in earnest. He both won and lost, but was paid regardless and was finally able to catch up with the bills.

Much like their parents, Cesar got embroiled in the mafia. Still young, he was mostly a lookout, but with each passing day gets pulled in deeper. Orso has no clue what to do about this; after all, his own bookie has him getting wrapped further and further into the mafia and criminality. The danger his younger brother is in - both physical and criminal - takes its toll on Orso's sanity. He wracks his meager brains over many a sleepless night, working over the heavy bag in their one-room flat, just trying to find a way to keep Cesar safe.

A few months back, things took a turn for the weird. A lucky punch, or unlucky one depending on your point of view, sent his opponent reeling to the mat. The man's jaw was clearly fractured, and he looked like he wasn't breathing. While not kind per se, Orso isn't heartless. He knelt over the dying man and just wanted to take it back. And it was. Time fractured, leaving the man uninjured, but with Orso clearly remembering both branching paths.

This, in conjunction with the strange things he sees on those sleepless nights, understandably made Orso question his own sanity. After seeing the business-suited skeleton laughing and carousing at one of his matches, Orso's pretty much convinced that sanity is a distant dream at this point.

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