OOC:Character concept for either Mortals or Forsaken
Hey guys, trying to decide if I want to use this character for the Mortals game or the Forsaken Game. Any idea? What do you guys think?
Name: Richard and Mandy Yates
Concept: Detective and X-file Paranormal Investigator
Focus: Social, Mental, Physical.
Forsaken: Ghost Wolf Elodoth or Rahu Alpha
Mortals: No affiliation.
Restrictions to play:
Mortals: cross venue merit “totem” to portray Mandy Yates, and also require merit to perceive spirits and other phenomenon.
Forsaken: Totem merit taken twice, once to reflect personal totem, once to reflect pack totem. Unless the pack wants a little dead girl for a totem!
Known Merit requirement: Linguistics. Both Brother and Sister were experts at languages as children. Sister often communicates in Latin or other languages just to be difficult. Also, Status: Police. Richard Yates is a detective, either with the FBI or the Police.
Appearance: Richard dresses down when not on duty. Suits for in the office (he's a detective, it's required) but outside he's likely to wear a teeshirt and jeans. He's fairly average appearance, all his power is in his charm and grace.
Mandy, for those who can see her, wears a fairly fancy blue and white dress, with petticoats. Mind, Richard doesn't remember her ever wearing such in life, but as she's likely to say "There are expectations of grandure and etiquette in Death. It behooves one such as me to fit in with those expectations."
She'd be a very beautiful Blond 14 year old girl with bright blue eyes - if the right side of her face wasn't missing. All that remains is the skull. Even her eye on that side is gone. The side of her face that is still there is often in a polite smile, which makes her all the more frightening.
“Silva in Lumine
Lunae arcana est
Domus mea
Silva in lumine
Stella rum est”
That was Mandy. At age 14 she had the voice of an angel. The looks too. Too bad we’ll never know what she would have looked like if she had grown up.
My name’s Richard Yates. Don’t. I’ve already heard that joke so many times it’s gotten stale. Oh, and before we go on, It’s Detective Yates, or Lieutenant Yates. Nobody calls me Richard.
See, I decided to become a cop because of my sister.
We were inseparable, Mandy and I. And I loved her more than life itself. There was only a few minutes difference between our births, so that may have been why. Or it could have been that she was our grace, poise, and thought where I was our energy, enthusiasm and spirit. But I think it was because, really, she was the better of the two of us.
“In very likeness of an oasis in the desert sands, such exceptional and exotic exquisiteness can exist here. Words cannot express my gratitude to thee, my brother. To even have the merest glimpse of these blooms will soothe my soul for years to come.”*1
Yeah, she really talked like that.
She was a genius. Truly. It took all I was just to keep up with her. She was the thinker, I was the talker. Her and I used to banter back and fourth for hours, switiching from English to Latin to German to Japanese, just to upset the help. Our Father, a linquist by trade, found our converstaions amusing.
That particular comment was the time I took her into the woods to see a bunch of rare flowers I’d discovered. There was this whole cluster, right at the base of a tree of this really rare type of lady slipper.
It was the last time I ever saw her alive.
We heard something move in the depths of the forest, but it didn’t seem to come near. Then something charged at me. To this day, I don’t remember what it was I saw. Only the terror that gripped me in that moment.
When I came to, It had grown dark. Even with the darkness, however, I found my sister. Or what was left of her. Whatever had attacked us, had ripped a swath of flesh and muscle from my left arm, and ripped half of Mandy’s beautiful face off, right to the bone.
It was written off as a wolf attack, and I was treated and given rabies shots, because “it had to have been rabid to attack you like that. You’re lucky you were knocked out when it first attacked, or you’d be dead too.”
A wolf. That isn’t what Mandy tells me. She says it was something much more than a simple wolf. Something big and nasty, and that it carried a knife in one hand.
That’s right. Mandy still talks to me. Death itself couldn’t separate us. Growing up for a while they thought I was had lost it because of her death. Went to a lot of counceling. I'm not though. Mandy has never told me to do anything crazy or dangerous. In fact, I often have to convince her to let me help these poor souls.
See, it’s not just her either. With her sticking around, I guess other spirits figured they could come to me for help. So many wasted lives, most of them pissed that they died when they did. They come to me, seeking solace, seeking revenge. Seeking justice. Thankfully, there’s no statute of limitations on murder.
But once in a while, there’s a case I can’t solve. A criminal I can’t put in jail. After all, who’s going to believe that the murderer ripped the victim’s throat out and drank his blood? Or that he changed forms into some sort of half human Monster and slaughtered the man like cattle before a wheat thresher.
And I still don’t know why Mandy had to die. But I will find out.
*Text belongs to Bleedman of http://grim.snafu-comics.com/?strip_id=0
Name: Richard and Mandy Yates
Concept: Detective and X-file Paranormal Investigator
Focus: Social, Mental, Physical.
Forsaken: Ghost Wolf Elodoth or Rahu Alpha
Mortals: No affiliation.
Restrictions to play:
Mortals: cross venue merit “totem” to portray Mandy Yates, and also require merit to perceive spirits and other phenomenon.
Forsaken: Totem merit taken twice, once to reflect personal totem, once to reflect pack totem. Unless the pack wants a little dead girl for a totem!
Known Merit requirement: Linguistics. Both Brother and Sister were experts at languages as children. Sister often communicates in Latin or other languages just to be difficult. Also, Status: Police. Richard Yates is a detective, either with the FBI or the Police.
Appearance: Richard dresses down when not on duty. Suits for in the office (he's a detective, it's required) but outside he's likely to wear a teeshirt and jeans. He's fairly average appearance, all his power is in his charm and grace.
Mandy, for those who can see her, wears a fairly fancy blue and white dress, with petticoats. Mind, Richard doesn't remember her ever wearing such in life, but as she's likely to say "There are expectations of grandure and etiquette in Death. It behooves one such as me to fit in with those expectations."
She'd be a very beautiful Blond 14 year old girl with bright blue eyes - if the right side of her face wasn't missing. All that remains is the skull. Even her eye on that side is gone. The side of her face that is still there is often in a polite smile, which makes her all the more frightening.
“Silva in Lumine
Lunae arcana est
Domus mea
Silva in lumine
Stella rum est”
That was Mandy. At age 14 she had the voice of an angel. The looks too. Too bad we’ll never know what she would have looked like if she had grown up.
My name’s Richard Yates. Don’t. I’ve already heard that joke so many times it’s gotten stale. Oh, and before we go on, It’s Detective Yates, or Lieutenant Yates. Nobody calls me Richard.
See, I decided to become a cop because of my sister.
We were inseparable, Mandy and I. And I loved her more than life itself. There was only a few minutes difference between our births, so that may have been why. Or it could have been that she was our grace, poise, and thought where I was our energy, enthusiasm and spirit. But I think it was because, really, she was the better of the two of us.
“In very likeness of an oasis in the desert sands, such exceptional and exotic exquisiteness can exist here. Words cannot express my gratitude to thee, my brother. To even have the merest glimpse of these blooms will soothe my soul for years to come.”*1
Yeah, she really talked like that.
She was a genius. Truly. It took all I was just to keep up with her. She was the thinker, I was the talker. Her and I used to banter back and fourth for hours, switiching from English to Latin to German to Japanese, just to upset the help. Our Father, a linquist by trade, found our converstaions amusing.
That particular comment was the time I took her into the woods to see a bunch of rare flowers I’d discovered. There was this whole cluster, right at the base of a tree of this really rare type of lady slipper.
It was the last time I ever saw her alive.
We heard something move in the depths of the forest, but it didn’t seem to come near. Then something charged at me. To this day, I don’t remember what it was I saw. Only the terror that gripped me in that moment.
When I came to, It had grown dark. Even with the darkness, however, I found my sister. Or what was left of her. Whatever had attacked us, had ripped a swath of flesh and muscle from my left arm, and ripped half of Mandy’s beautiful face off, right to the bone.
It was written off as a wolf attack, and I was treated and given rabies shots, because “it had to have been rabid to attack you like that. You’re lucky you were knocked out when it first attacked, or you’d be dead too.”
A wolf. That isn’t what Mandy tells me. She says it was something much more than a simple wolf. Something big and nasty, and that it carried a knife in one hand.
That’s right. Mandy still talks to me. Death itself couldn’t separate us. Growing up for a while they thought I was had lost it because of her death. Went to a lot of counceling. I'm not though. Mandy has never told me to do anything crazy or dangerous. In fact, I often have to convince her to let me help these poor souls.
See, it’s not just her either. With her sticking around, I guess other spirits figured they could come to me for help. So many wasted lives, most of them pissed that they died when they did. They come to me, seeking solace, seeking revenge. Seeking justice. Thankfully, there’s no statute of limitations on murder.
But once in a while, there’s a case I can’t solve. A criminal I can’t put in jail. After all, who’s going to believe that the murderer ripped the victim’s throat out and drank his blood? Or that he changed forms into some sort of half human Monster and slaughtered the man like cattle before a wheat thresher.
And I still don’t know why Mandy had to die. But I will find out.
*Text belongs to Bleedman of http://grim.snafu-comics.com/?strip_id=0