Post by Michael Jones on Nov 19, 2006 10:03:19 GMT
Name: Michael Jones
Player: Mandrion
Breed: Homid
Auspice: Galliard
Tribe: GlassWalkers (not yet)
Totem: none yet
Concept: Urban cub out of the big city
Appearance: Young man, relatively unremarkable looking, dressed
fashionably, almost always wears the headphones of his iPod. Humans, especially non-kinfolk humans, tend to shy away from him although they don't know why (in game terms, any normal human with willpower below 4 will sense the Rage in him)
Age: 19
Date of Birth: 15.05.1989
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Dark Blond
Race: Caucasian
Nationality: UK
Height: 1.81
Weight: 82
Sex: Male
Attributes:
Physical:
Strength 2
Dexterity 2
Stamina 2
Social:
Charisma 2
Manipulation 3
Appearance 3
Mental:
Perception 3
Intelligence 4
Wits 4
Abilities
Talents:
Alertness 1
Athletics 1
Brawl 1
Dodge 1
Empathy 1
Expression 2
Intimidation
Primal-Urge
Streetwise 2
Subterfuge 2
Skills:
Animal Ken
Drive 2
Etiquette 3
Firearms
Leadership
Melee 1
Performance 1
Repair 3 (Electronics specialty)
Stealth 1
Survival
Knowledges:
Computer 4
Enigmas 1
Finance
Investigation 2
Law 2
Linguistics 1
Medicine 1
Occult
Politics 1
Rituals
Science 4
Gifts 3 (1 from each breed, auspice, and tribe)
none yet
Backgrounds 5
Resources 1 (pocket money from the sept, and they arranged for a place where he can stay)
Kinfolk 1
Fetish 1
Contacts 3
Rage 4
Gnosis 1
Willpower 4
Renown
Glory:
Honor:
Wisdom:
Rank: cub
Health
Bruised
Hurt -1
Injured -1
Wounded -2
Mauled -2
Crippled -5
Incapacitated
Gear: iPod, Laptop, a few books and other personal belongings,
multitool for quick repairs
Merits: none
Flaws: none
Vehicles: none
Background and Biography:
"Damn that Ragabash. Who ever came up with the brilliant idea of
putting a New Moon in charge of a Rite of Passage?"
These thoughts belonged to Michael Jones, a young man who was just going through the security checks at Heathrow International Airport. As usual, he was checked quite thoroughly, although he had not done anything to make himself appear suspicious. The security guards, if they would think about it, wouldn't know why they had picked him - Michael, on the other hand, now knew fully well that they could instinctively sense the Rage boiling under his civilized surface, the ancient animalistic side that he worked so hard to suppress and that would always make him seem threatening to most of the human population.
Of course they found nothing. The only weapon Michael carried was his own body, and there was no way a human could find out how dangerous it was as long as Michael kept to his current human form. After passing the security check, he took his iPod out of his pocket and switched the music on. As if to mock him, the first song in the playlist turned out to be "Werewolves of London", painfully reminding him of what he was leaving behind, if only for a few weeks. He was exactly that, after all - a werewolf of London, a GlassWalker to be exact. Or rather he would be a GlassWalker once he passed his Rite of Passage. This, of course, was the reason why he was just boarding the plane to Dublin. He was a Galliard, communication specialist and storyteller.
Mostly, he concentrated on the first part. He could set up an
encrypted Mail system that allowed members of the sept to communicate from different sides of the globe without fear of discovery (not that they hadn't already had one), he could rig telephone systems and operate all sorts of radio equipment. But Daniel 'Rainmaker' Flocks, the Ragabash in charge of his Rite of Passage, thought this wasn't enough. "Communication is more than just providing the channels for it" he had said. And then with his stupid, wolvish grin, had gone on "We are just one tribe out of 12, and we have to communicate with the others as well as among each other". The Rite of Passage, he had explained, would be to live for some time in a sept that mainly consisted of other tribes, wilderness tribes. And as if that wasn't bad enough, it was outside England - in Ireland, of all things.
As the plane was taking off, and Michael had finally left his
civilized hometown behind for what he considered little better than
savage wilderness, his iPod switched to the next song "Leaving on a
Jetplane". Annoyed, he skipped to the next, which turned out to be
"Born to be Wild". Not for the first time, he wondered about how much of it was coincidence...
Note on some backgrounds:
Kinfolk: Brian and Margaret Rourden, a middle aged couple of Glass Walker Kinfolk who live in Dublin and stay in loose contact with several septs on the British Isles. They owed Daniel Flocks a favour and agreed to let Michael live with them for a while.
Fetish: An iPod with a spirit of humor sitting in it. Not truly a
Fetish because the spirit can leave any time he wants, but for the
moment it is happy where it is and likes to mess with the songs that
the iPod plays. The device isn't meant to do much of anything except
play songs that are strangely appropriate to the situation, Michael's
mood or things like that. If anyone else feels like it, the songs that
it plays are open for everyone, especially STs. It doesn't really have
any practical use unless someone decides to put in a clue or two
through it, but that is up to a ST or possibly other player.
Contacts:
Daniel 'Rainmaker' Flocks, a Ragabash of the Old City sept. Michaels
main contact with the sept at home, might help out with some
information, but only if it is important. Minor contacts are other
members of the Old City Sept
EtherWaves is the nickname of someone on a forum about radio
technology that Michael frequents. The two often exchange information and ideas, but have never met in person and know very little about each other privately (not even the respective gender). Minor contacts are other forumites.
Frank Mills, a former classmate and one of the few that Michael got
along with (in game terms because he has a high enough willpower not to be affected by the curse). He is actively organized in the Liberal Democrats party in London, but doesn't have much influence yet (as he is only 20 himself). Minor contacts might be other former classmates, although Michael wouldn't have had much contact with them.
Player: Mandrion
Breed: Homid
Auspice: Galliard
Tribe: GlassWalkers (not yet)
Totem: none yet
Concept: Urban cub out of the big city
Appearance: Young man, relatively unremarkable looking, dressed
fashionably, almost always wears the headphones of his iPod. Humans, especially non-kinfolk humans, tend to shy away from him although they don't know why (in game terms, any normal human with willpower below 4 will sense the Rage in him)
Age: 19
Date of Birth: 15.05.1989
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Dark Blond
Race: Caucasian
Nationality: UK
Height: 1.81
Weight: 82
Sex: Male
Attributes:
Physical:
Strength 2
Dexterity 2
Stamina 2
Social:
Charisma 2
Manipulation 3
Appearance 3
Mental:
Perception 3
Intelligence 4
Wits 4
Abilities
Talents:
Alertness 1
Athletics 1
Brawl 1
Dodge 1
Empathy 1
Expression 2
Intimidation
Primal-Urge
Streetwise 2
Subterfuge 2
Skills:
Animal Ken
Drive 2
Etiquette 3
Firearms
Leadership
Melee 1
Performance 1
Repair 3 (Electronics specialty)
Stealth 1
Survival
Knowledges:
Computer 4
Enigmas 1
Finance
Investigation 2
Law 2
Linguistics 1
Medicine 1
Occult
Politics 1
Rituals
Science 4
Gifts 3 (1 from each breed, auspice, and tribe)
none yet
Backgrounds 5
Resources 1 (pocket money from the sept, and they arranged for a place where he can stay)
Kinfolk 1
Fetish 1
Contacts 3
Rage 4
Gnosis 1
Willpower 4
Renown
Glory:
Honor:
Wisdom:
Rank: cub
Health
Bruised
Hurt -1
Injured -1
Wounded -2
Mauled -2
Crippled -5
Incapacitated
Gear: iPod, Laptop, a few books and other personal belongings,
multitool for quick repairs
Merits: none
Flaws: none
Vehicles: none
Background and Biography:
"Damn that Ragabash. Who ever came up with the brilliant idea of
putting a New Moon in charge of a Rite of Passage?"
These thoughts belonged to Michael Jones, a young man who was just going through the security checks at Heathrow International Airport. As usual, he was checked quite thoroughly, although he had not done anything to make himself appear suspicious. The security guards, if they would think about it, wouldn't know why they had picked him - Michael, on the other hand, now knew fully well that they could instinctively sense the Rage boiling under his civilized surface, the ancient animalistic side that he worked so hard to suppress and that would always make him seem threatening to most of the human population.
Of course they found nothing. The only weapon Michael carried was his own body, and there was no way a human could find out how dangerous it was as long as Michael kept to his current human form. After passing the security check, he took his iPod out of his pocket and switched the music on. As if to mock him, the first song in the playlist turned out to be "Werewolves of London", painfully reminding him of what he was leaving behind, if only for a few weeks. He was exactly that, after all - a werewolf of London, a GlassWalker to be exact. Or rather he would be a GlassWalker once he passed his Rite of Passage. This, of course, was the reason why he was just boarding the plane to Dublin. He was a Galliard, communication specialist and storyteller.
Mostly, he concentrated on the first part. He could set up an
encrypted Mail system that allowed members of the sept to communicate from different sides of the globe without fear of discovery (not that they hadn't already had one), he could rig telephone systems and operate all sorts of radio equipment. But Daniel 'Rainmaker' Flocks, the Ragabash in charge of his Rite of Passage, thought this wasn't enough. "Communication is more than just providing the channels for it" he had said. And then with his stupid, wolvish grin, had gone on "We are just one tribe out of 12, and we have to communicate with the others as well as among each other". The Rite of Passage, he had explained, would be to live for some time in a sept that mainly consisted of other tribes, wilderness tribes. And as if that wasn't bad enough, it was outside England - in Ireland, of all things.
As the plane was taking off, and Michael had finally left his
civilized hometown behind for what he considered little better than
savage wilderness, his iPod switched to the next song "Leaving on a
Jetplane". Annoyed, he skipped to the next, which turned out to be
"Born to be Wild". Not for the first time, he wondered about how much of it was coincidence...
Note on some backgrounds:
Kinfolk: Brian and Margaret Rourden, a middle aged couple of Glass Walker Kinfolk who live in Dublin and stay in loose contact with several septs on the British Isles. They owed Daniel Flocks a favour and agreed to let Michael live with them for a while.
Fetish: An iPod with a spirit of humor sitting in it. Not truly a
Fetish because the spirit can leave any time he wants, but for the
moment it is happy where it is and likes to mess with the songs that
the iPod plays. The device isn't meant to do much of anything except
play songs that are strangely appropriate to the situation, Michael's
mood or things like that. If anyone else feels like it, the songs that
it plays are open for everyone, especially STs. It doesn't really have
any practical use unless someone decides to put in a clue or two
through it, but that is up to a ST or possibly other player.
Contacts:
Daniel 'Rainmaker' Flocks, a Ragabash of the Old City sept. Michaels
main contact with the sept at home, might help out with some
information, but only if it is important. Minor contacts are other
members of the Old City Sept
EtherWaves is the nickname of someone on a forum about radio
technology that Michael frequents. The two often exchange information and ideas, but have never met in person and know very little about each other privately (not even the respective gender). Minor contacts are other forumites.
Frank Mills, a former classmate and one of the few that Michael got
along with (in game terms because he has a high enough willpower not to be affected by the curse). He is actively organized in the Liberal Democrats party in London, but doesn't have much influence yet (as he is only 20 himself). Minor contacts might be other former classmates, although Michael wouldn't have had much contact with them.
