Mortals and the Barely Supernatural

   
Mortals and the Barely Supernatural

DS Nicole Chavez

Type: Mortal
Profession: Detective Sergeant for the Met



Virtue: Justice: There's a way that the world is supposed to work. The good guys win and the bad guys lose, because that's the way it should work. It doesn't always, and that's where DS Chavez comes in.
Vice: Pride: Nicole is smart, she's pretty, she's fighting the good fight and she's making a difference. She'd never say that she's better than you. But she'd certainly think it.

Background: Neva Chavez was born in Mexico City in 1976, to Diego and Marisol Chavez. Her father was a third generation policeman, and though no one could call Diego Chavez the most crusading of men, he was as honest as his salary allowed him to be. He took a few bribes, and ignored a few things, and tried to serve the people as best he could, as his own father and grandfather had back to the start of the Republic. But then Neva's birth changed that. What was the point of being a third-rate policeman in a land where all were corrupt and all was bleak, what sort of life would this give his daughter? So, Diego left. He had some contacts, his own and his fathers, and he had some money, and he had something even more valuable. A sister in Scotland.

With advantages like that, doors opened, and in 1978 the Chavez family moved to the United Kingdom, where they settled in London, where Diego worked as a waiter, then chef, then eventually a resteranteur. Diego Chavez, needless to say, was an entrepeneurial soul. Neva's name became Nicole for all practical purposes (it was legally changed on her 18th birthday), and they settled into something that was almost a middle class lifestyle. Summers were spent with her aunt in Scotland, reading the older woman's endless collections of books, on every imaginable subject.

Nicole went to high school and then to college, where she studied law and criminology and got herself involved in a few dubious escapades with student politics and over-enthusiastic parties. After a year off, she became a the fourth generation of her family to enter the police force, albeit as a British Bobby instead of a Mexican Federale. Joining the Metropolitan Police Service (the formal name of Scotland Yard) was a natural career, and she would rise through the ranks at a healthy clip. This surprised no one. She was smart as a whip, she was pretty and charming, and she was ambitious. She crossed over from uniforms to the Homicide desk early on, and then made Detective Sergeant in 2005, at the age of 29.

It was grim, gritty work. Chavez smiles a great deal, and she can flirt and tell jokes, it did touch her. In some people, police work breeds greater empathy and compassion. But for Nicole Chavez, it led to a certain distance, a detachment from the greater herd of humanity. She came to see herself as someone apart, by virtue of her career and her talents, and sometimes, in her darkest dreams, as someone better. The bloody scenes affected her less when she thought this way.

Then came a routine case involving a Mr. Marcus Beverly and his sociopathic daughter. By the end of it, DS Nicole Chavez had fallen down the rabbit hole into the Hedge, into a world of magic and monsters and faerie tales. She'd met Ilkin and the Jack-of-Crows, been threatened by the Winter King Todd White, and helped shoot down a mad, monstrous Keeper in the heart of the Hedge. It was the most terrifying experience of Nicole Chavez's life.

Since that strange night, now more than a year in the past, Nicole has tried to order her life. She has friends, and has taken up a boyfriend in the form of the mage Vincent Jeffries, courtesy of some well-meaning prodding from Ilkin and Erin. She still finds the Fair Folk unnerving and frightful (with the exception of Erin, perhaps), but she brushes past that fear. Chavez has never been one to let fear rule her. And so, life continues, albeit rather more strangely than it had before.


PMental Attributes: Intelligence 4, Wits 5, Resolve 3
SPhysical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 4, Stamina 3
TSocial Attributes: Presence 3, Manipulation 3, Composure 4

TMental Skills: Academics (Criminology) 4, Computer 2, Investigation (Crime Scene) 5, Occult (Fae) 1, Politics (Departmental) 2, Science (Forensics) 2
PPhysical Skills: Athletics 4,
No 10-agains and 1s subtract
Brawl 2, Drive 1, Firearms 2, Larceny 4, Stealth 3,
No 10-agains and 1s subtract
Weaponry 2
SSocial Skills: Animal Ken 1, Empathy (Motives, Offering Sympathy) 4, Intimidation 4, Persuasion 3, Socialize 2, Subterfuge 4

Merits: Bureaucratic Navigator 2, Emotional Detachment 1, Encyclopedic Knowledge 4, Language (Spanish; Native is English) 1,
Detective; Empathy, Investigation, Subterfuge
Professional Training (~Police~) 5, Resources 3, Retainer (DC Thornton) 4, Status (Metropolitan Police Service; Detective Sergeant) 3, Striking Looks 2, Token (
Gives Chavez the Lunatic's Knowing Glance (Free, Wits roll, tells if the target suffers from any derangements, and what they are). Is however unwieldy and makes swinging a weapon problematic.
Crazy Watch) 1, Token (
Gives Chavez the Favored Fate (Free, no roll, instant action, grants a +4 to a single roll, but if used on the same type of roll more than once before the next dawn or dusk, the roll fails instead), but also makes it difficult for Chavez to punch anyone (all of her blows 'luckily' miss).
Clover Ring) 2, Unseen Sense (Faerie) 4
Lair: Kensington Flat (Shared with Seventeen); Size 2, Security 3, Hallow 2, Library (Criminology, Faerie Tales) 2

Willpower: 7
Morality: 7

Health: 8
Initiative: 8
Defense: 4
Armor: 5/6B (Artificed Kevlar Vest)
Speed: 11

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Strike ..........……………………0B………………….4………………
Telescopic Baton......…………3B………………….7………………Concealable
Franchi SPAS-12..................4L (9-again)....10................8 ammo, 20/40/80 range
Bear Mace………...................N/A..................8.............5 ammo, 1/10/20 range, -5 penalties



Lena Melikhin
Sasha’s Daughter

Born: 1992

Virtue: Charity Given how manipulative she can be, it’s probably for the best that Lena doesn’t have a mean bone in her body…
Vice: Greed …though she’s got plenty of selfish ones.



Background: Sasha’s daughter, Lena is what older and wiser heads politely call “trouble.” Born in Ukraine around the fall of the USSR, Lena ended up by agencies not entirely clear in the Hawksworth Academy, an exclusive girl’s boarding school in Essex, northeast of London. There, she’s proven to have a limitless capacity for getting into and out of trouble. Her curiosity, independence, and thoroughly contrary nature means that she tends to poke her nose into things that aren’t her business, but her wild imagination and rather casual attitude towards the truth (combined with the looks of a Slavic Cherub) means that she’s equally good at getting out of things.

In Hawksworth, Lena is something of a social ‘queen bee,’ at least among her band of budding juvenile delinquents. She’s starting to go a little stir-crazy within the walls of Hawskworth, and can’t wait to be allowed out into London. Then she can meet her Mysterious Uncle Alyosha in the daytime, and find out who he really works for.
SMental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 2, Resolve 3
TPhysical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2
PSocial Attributes: Presence 3, Manipulation 4, Composure 2

SMental Skills: Academics 2, Computer 1, Investigation (What's in this room?) 4, Politics 3
TPhysical Skills: Athletics 1, Larceny 2, Stealth (“Nobody here but us Ghosts!”) 2
PSocial Skills: Empathy 2, Expression 2, Intimidation 1, Persuasion ("She's such a sweet, innocent girl...") 4, Socialize 3, Subterfuge (Lying) 4

Merits: Allies (Hawksworth Teachers) 2, Language (English; Native is Russian) 1, Luxury 2, Mentor (Sasha Zmeyevich) 5, Status (Borderline Juvenile Delinquents) 3, Striking Looks 2

Willpower: 5
Morality: 7

Initiative: 5
Defense: 2
Health: 7
Size: 10

Yanmei Gao
"Mei"

Virtue: Prudence Mei's got a good head on her shoulders...
Vice: Lust ...If only it didn't completely turn off when a pretty boy walks by. Or a pretty girl. (Lena)

Background: The daughter of a wealthy Hong Kong businessman and Lena Melikhin's partner in crime. Mei is quieter and less gregarious than Lena, and more than a few adults hoped that she'd prove to be a calming influence on the mischievous Ukrainian girl, but alas, quite the opposite seems to have happened. Thick as thieves is the expression that comes to mind.

Despite her seemingly quiet nature, Mei's in the drama club, with a penchant for swashbuckling roles. At heart, Mei's a romantic with a vivid inner life, and visions of being swept off her feet by a dashing prince -- or alternatively sweeping a dashing prince off his feet. She's also fences and is in the historical club, which makes one suspect that Mei wishes she had been born in an adventure tale.

SMental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 2
PPhysical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 4, Stamina 2
TSocial Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 2, Composure 3

SMental Skills: Academics 3, Computer 2, Investigation 2, Medicine 1, Science 2
PPhysical Skills: Athletics 3, Brawl 1, Larceny 3, Stealth 3, Survival 1, Weaponry 2
TSocial Skills: Empathy 2, Expression 4, Persuasion 1, Socialize 1, Subterfuge 2

Merits: Allies (Fencing Club) 3, Encyclopedic Knowledge 4, Fast Reflexes 2, Fleet of Foot 3, Language (English; Native is Mandarin Chinese) 1, Luxury 2, Quick-Draw (Melee) 1

Willpower: 5
Morality: 7

Initiative: 9
Defense: 3
Health: 7
Speed: 15

Ajay Hewitt

Type: Mortal
Profession: Mechanic and occasional waiter



Virtue: Fortitude Ajay's the practical one, the one who never gives up, who always has a plan.
Vice: Greed Ajay's got a miserly disposition. Growing up poor, any money he gets, he latches on to like a bulldog.

Background:
Quote:
Originally Posted by Jewel the Slaver
"Listen to me, my Pale Lady, as I weave you a tale of two brothers, and of the spirit that bore them across a sea of water and through a lake of blood. They were born a score of years ago, in the harbor named for the King, upon the island once known as Xaymaca, and then Santiago, and then Jamaica." Jewel said, her voice falling into a storyteller's cadence. There was something subtly hypnotic in her eyes, brilliant, color-shifting eyes. They were green-blue now, the color of the sea. "One was named for angels, and so D'Angelo he was. The other's namesake strode before the walls of distant Troy, and thus his name is Ajay. They were poor, but ever-willing to work, and so they lived."

"But how does one work when there is no work to be had?" Jewel said, her thousand-faceted eyes shifting to a shade of orange, reminiscent of the setting sun. "And so the brothers hatched a scheme, Ajay convincing his brother to throw the dice once more. They were young. They were willing. And by being born in that distant city, named for the King, they were subjects of this country's queen as well. And so they came to this land, seeking freedom from hunger and want."

"But the darkness of the soul followed them. They were poor, and so they took what work could be found. They painted, and ever was D'Angelo had a dreamer's eye for art. They fixed houses, for Ajay was ever cunning with his hands. And they heard of work, caring for animals at a slaughterhouse, in a town not far." The sunset in Jewel's eyes set, and they showed only crimson blood now. "The brothers came, but they had been lied to. There was no work there, not for them. There would be no workers there, but they were to be the animals. They were beaten, Ajay throwing his form across his brother to shield him from the blows. They were chained. And then a steady stream of blood was taken from them. They were the stock, their blood feeding monsters whose hungers were terrible, in the interests of mortals whose love of money was more terrible still."

"But a man cannot give blood forever." Jewel said, as the blood in those crimson eyes dripped away, leaving a wash of slate-grey, like stones upon the beach or a corpse's skin. "And so they became weak. And D'Angelo, never so hardy, fell ill. Dead men are of no use to they as hunger for blood and money."

Jewel scuttled off the thick cable, her feet still clinging to the silk even as she put her hands on each of the occupied cages. She hung like that, upside down, as she finished her tale. "But the spider could use them. Or find others that could. They are weak, Pale Lady, and sick. But they have a fire in their souls that not hunger nor blood could extinguish."
Ajay, along with his brother, immigrated from Kingston, Jamaica to the UK, only to fall into a rather unpleasant state of blood-slavery. He was being sold at the Goblin Market of the Spider-Span when Erin rescued him and his brother. These days, he works at the Cat's Cradle, though he tends to leave the front service to his more personable brother. He also does small jobs to earn more of a nest egg, and has recently become engaged to a nice girl named Jasmine "Jazzy" Palmer.
Type: Mortal

SMental Attributes: Intelligence 2, Wits 2, Resolve 4
PPhysical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 4, Stamina 3
TSocial Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 2, Composure 3

PMental Skills: Academics 1, Crafts (Make Do) 4, Investigation 3, Occult (Faeries!) 2, Politics 2
SPhysical Skills: Athletics 3, Brawl 1, Drive (Trucks) 3, Larceny 2, Stealth 1
TSocial Skills: Empathy 1, Persuasion 2, Socialize 2, Streetwise (Black Market) 2

Merits: Iron Stamina 1, Natural Immunity 1, Resources 3, Shadow Cult Initiation (Harbingers) 2, Unseen Sense (Faerie) 4
Lair: Nice Apartment; Size 2, Security 3

Willpower: 7
Morality: 7

Initiative: 7
Defense: 2
Health: 8
Speed: 12

D'Angelo Hewitt

Type: Mortal
Profession: Maître d’hôtel of the Cat's Cradle, Painter



Virtue: Charity D'Angelo just isn't very good at saying no to people. He's eager to please and just nice.
Vice: Gluttony D'Angelo likes to indulge himself. Good food, fine liquor, easy women, that's D'Angelo's idea of heaven.

Background:
Quote:
Originally Posted by Jewel the Slaver
"Listen to me, my Pale Lady, as I weave you a tale of two brothers, and of the spirit that bore them across a sea of water and through a lake of blood. They were born a score of years ago, in the harbor named for the King, upon the island once known as Xaymaca, and then Santiago, and then Jamaica." Jewel said, her voice falling into a storyteller's cadence. There was something subtly hypnotic in her eyes, brilliant, color-shifting eyes. They were green-blue now, the color of the sea. "One was named for angels, and so D'Angelo he was. The other's namesake strode before the walls of distant Troy, and thus his name is Ajay. They were poor, but ever-willing to work, and so they lived."

"But how does one work when there is no work to be had?" Jewel said, her thousand-faceted eyes shifting to a shade of orange, reminiscent of the setting sun. "And so the brothers hatched a scheme, Ajay convincing his brother to throw the dice once more. They were young. They were willing. And by being born in that distant city, named for the King, they were subjects of this country's queen as well. And so they came to this land, seeking freedom from hunger and want."

"But the darkness of the soul followed them. They were poor, and so they took what work could be found. They painted, and ever was D'Angelo had a dreamer's eye for art. They fixed houses, for Ajay was ever cunning with his hands. And they heard of work, caring for animals at a slaughterhouse, in a town not far." The sunset in Jewel's eyes set, and they showed only crimson blood now. "The brothers came, but they had been lied to. There was no work there, not for them. There would be no workers there, but they were to be the animals. They were beaten, Ajay throwing his form across his brother to shield him from the blows. They were chained. And then a steady stream of blood was taken from them. They were the stock, their blood feeding monsters whose hungers were terrible, in the interests of mortals whose love of money was more terrible still."

"But a man cannot give blood forever." Jewel said, as the blood in those crimson eyes dripped away, leaving a wash of slate-grey, like stones upon the beach or a corpse's skin. "And so they became weak. And D'Angelo, never so hardy, fell ill. Dead men are of no use to they as hunger for blood and money."

Jewel scuttled off the thick cable, her feet still clinging to the silk even as she put her hands on each of the occupied cages. She hung like that, upside down, as she finished her tale. "But the spider could use them. Or find others that could. They are weak, Pale Lady, and sick. But they have a fire in their souls that not hunger nor blood could extinguish."
D'Angelo, like his brother, immigrated from Kingston, and passed through blood-slavery and Hedge-slavery. Mostly, D'Angelo works at the Cat's Cradle, usually at the front desk. A dream, pleasant sort of man, has an easy manner with customers. Also unlike his brother, D'Angelo has precious little in the way of ambition, mostly focusing on painting.

Valerie Summers

Type: Mortal (Very slightly psychic)
Profession: Busker, Dr. Doolittle

Virtue: Charity: Selfishness is a concept that Valerie’s never quite managed to internalize. She thinks nothing of giving her time, her effort, or her very limited possessions to others, if they’re really needed.
Vice: Sloth: It’s just too easy for Valerie to give up, give in, and drop out. She never stands up for herself, and rarely for others. When things get too hard, she’ll run away, or she’ll zone out, but she won’t confront them.

Background: Valerie grew up in a nice, middle-class family. She had a house with a yard, she had both her parents, she had a dog, she went to a good school and she always had friends. Somehow, things didn’t work out. Her parents never really disapproved of her “dreamer” sensibilities: she often stared out the window at the trappings of suburbia… and focused past all that. Watching birds at the feeder. Clouds drift across the sky. Two white cabbage moths whirling in some mad aeronautic dance. They punished her for it, and it only encouraged Valerie’s behavior.

And it translated over to school. In high school and college, Valerie went to class stoned or bombed, because it was easier to disconnect, then. Far simpler to unhook oneself from all the day-to-day reality and just float free. Music classes were the only ones in which Valerie excelled, and she took up the violin, and she was good at it. It was her only talent, the only thing she really cared about.

It couldn’t last, and it didn’t. One fine evening, Valerie received a letter that her financial aid had been revoked due to her persistently atrocious grades. Valerie’s still not quite sure why she made the decision she did. She was drunk at the time, and possibly stoned, but even so, she packed a duffel bag with clothes and her violin, and then she left the dorm in a haze. Valerie never went back.

Even when she sobered up, she didn’t go back. Some of it was that she couldn’t face her family after it, couldn’t bear to hear their lectures and their demands to shape up. And some of it was that she was, for the first time in her life, free. It was glorious. Really, the only regret Valerie has is that she never got to see her dog again.

For a while, Valerie’s money was enough to let her live in hostels. But then it ran out, and soon she took to sleeping on the streets and busking for money. It wasn’t that bad. London wasn’t very cold, and Valerie always had a hardy constitution. She made enough money from playing in subways and parks to keep herself fed, and when things got rough, there were homeless shelters, or a string of on-again, off-again boyfriends.

These days, Valerie mostly lives with Aidan Flynn, a sometimes-verbally-abusive young man who makes his money from odd jobs and the dole. Between the two of them, they have a tiny Council flat at Timsdown West. Most days, Valerie spends playing music, classic melodies, Gaelic songs she picked up from Aidan, and little ditties of her own devising. It’s not a great life, but at least Valerie’s free.

Description: Valerie is short and lithe, only 5’3” or so, and perhaps twenty-two years old, her golden brown hair kept in dreadlocks that framed a pale, oval face. Her clothing is dirty and torn, not in the artful way of someone who bought pre-torn jeans at the market, but in the threadbare way of someone with only a single pair of jeans worn year round. She has a light blue jacket cast around her shoulders, and a pair of worn sneakers on her feet. Her prized possession is an old violin, its varnish peeling and cracked, but which she still uses and keeps up constantly. She also has a tattered silk top-hat, which she sometimes wears, and sometimes collects money in. She's usually surrounded by animals, rats, pigeons, cats or feral dogs, all of whom act like playful puppies or kittens around her.

Note: Though Valerie doesn’t realize it, she has a certain level of psychic potential, which manifests in her incredibly easy rapport with all kinds of animals. Animals love her, and Valerie can usually tell what they’re thinking, or get them to do things for her. Valerie hasn’t realized that there’s anything odd about this, she just thinks that she’s good at reading animal body language, and training them a little.
Type: Mortal

SMental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 2
TPhysical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 4
PSocial Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 2, Composure 3

TMental Skills: Academics 2, Computer 1, Crafts 3, Investigation 2, Medicine 1, Occult (Urban Legends) 1
SPhysical Skills: Athletics 3, Brawl 1, Larceny 2, Stealth 3, Survival (Streets) 4
PSocial Skills: Animal Ken (Vermin) 4, Empathy 2, Expression (Violin) 3, Persuasion 3, Socialize (Air of Innocence) 4, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 1

Merits: Ambidextrous 3, Anonymity 4, Direction Sense 1, Iron Stomach 2, Language (Gaelic; Native is English) 1, Natural Immunity 1, Unobtrusive 3
Lair: Tenement Flat at Timsdown West; Size 1

Psychic Phenomenon: Animal Empathy 4

Willpower: 5
Morality: 8

Initiative: 6
Defense: 3
Health: 9
Speed: 10

Malcolm Sutherland

Type: Mortal
Profession: Multi-Millionaire Press Baron

Virtue: Prudence
Vice: Greed

Background: For the first part of the story, refer to Underwood's Background at his character thread.

They don’t call him “Buddy” no more. Fleeing family trouble, Malcolm ran away from home in 1946, hopping a steamer to New York at the age of 16. There, he booked a room at the Y and signed on at the Courier. Three things are certain about his involvement with the Drummond-Prentiss story: he poached Jack’s lead and set him up to fall; he saw something at that pharmaceutical plant while doing so; and, whatever it was, he didn’t report on the full story.

Malcolm kept getting promoted, burying another rival with each step up the ladder. By 35, he ran the Courier’s city desk. By 45, he had purposely run the Courier’s circulation into the ground. By 47, he had hopped the pond for a cushy Editor In Chief job at the Knightsbridge Gazette, and bought out the Courier for pennies on the dollar. Thirty years later, after absorbing countless other publications, the International Courier-Gazette has an extensive readership in over 140 countries, and Mr. Sutherland has become a very rich man indeed.

Malcolm, simply put, is a bastard of the highest caliber. While not a tabloid, and not particularly right-wing, the Courier-Gazette is now a muckracking outfit at its core. Malcolm stabbed countless personal and professional competitors in the back to get where he is today, and uses the newspaper as a means to continue doing so, employing his reporters to slander those he dislikes or finds inconvenient. In person, he’s a jowly, shortish old man with a bit of a paunch – a saccharine glad-hander to those he wants to impress, and a smug, ruthless tosser to everyone else. He owns a posh brownstone in the Belgravia neighborhood of London and a handsome estate on the outskirts of his native Glasgow, and spends his time jetting between both. He’s also made some non-newspaper investments in recent years: among other things, he’s just purchased a controlling interest in an obscure Russian pharmaceutical company.

Dale Thomashefsky
(born Dawid Thomashefsky)

Type: Mortal
Profession: Retiree

Background: Underwood’s youngest brother, and, at 79, currently the only living relative that he cares about. Dale served in the Korean War, and spent much of the rest of the century as a defense contractor with Lockheed. Now, he’s a late-stage Alzheimer’s sufferer, and barely lucid on his best days. His wife died five years ago, and his two deadbeat sons dumped him in a nursing home and forgot about him; when Underwood found out, he privately paid for his transfer to a much nicer facility on Long Island, and has been funding Dale’s stay ever since. Underwood has visited him a couple of times, always under his new name, and always claiming to be just another good Samaritan. He’s still not sure whether or not Dale recognizes him for who he really is.

Stephanie Halston

Type: Mortal
Profession: Middle Management

Background: Herringbone’s younger sister, now in her late thirties; moderate build, sandy brown hair, glasses. Also the only member of Herringbone’s family that keeps in touch with him, after his parents disowned him. She doesn’t speak with Mom and Dad anymore, either. Knows absolutely nothing about the changeling world; all the same, she’s local, and offered to be Underwood’s contact in the city when Herringbone mentioned that his friend would be in town. Has a mid-level business-side job in biotech, and lives in Knightsbridge with her two kids, Eric (9) and Lucy (6); she’s divorced, but with full custody. She’s a strong personality – often sniping playfully back and forth with her brother, when he’s around – but quite friendly, and appallingly normal given Underwood’s current standard.

Deborah Church

Species: Mortal
Virtue: Justice: Church believes that the good guys will win and the bad guys will lose in the end.
Vice: Lust. She loves the rush of flying, and of getting into (and out of) fights. Adrenaline is her favorite high.

A born tomboy and adrenaline junkie, Church has wanted to fly since she was old enough to wear dungarees and climb trees. Joining the RAF gave her the chance, and she loved it. It was dangerous, of course, flying an ambulance helicopter out during the Sierra Leone civil war, but everything worth doing has its risks. She liked the camaraderie of the military, even if some of the boys were jerks about having a woman around, but the chance to fly a Chinook made up for that in spades.

After getting let go from the RAF following budget cuts, Debs has made a living as an independent helicopter pilot. Both the tiny airfield and the beat-up old Eurocopter are up to the eyebrows, but Church is doing what she loves. Church Transport and Sightseeing is based just north of Liverpool, and occasionally a bit of Liverpool accent breaks through Church's endless supply of RAF slang.

Church is a cheery woman with a round face, a blond ponytail and a wide, easy smile. She looks completely at home in a jumpsuit and flight helmet. She looks pretty good in a dress with her hair down, too, though it's been a while since anyone's seen her that way.

Age: Late twenties
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Dark blond
Skin Tone/Complexion: Fair skinned with a light tan.
Hair Style: Shoulder length hair with a pony tail in the back, layered bangs parted to the left in the front.

Figure Notes: A highly athletic, average sized woman with small chest and an hourglass figure - she's wider than can be considered slender, mostly due to the extra muscle. The lines of her body are soft, however, rather than sharp or hard. She has a round face, with friendly features and a wide, easy smile. With her hair up she looks the very model of a professional pilot; with her hair down, she looks more feminine and pretty good to boot.

Clothing Notes: When flying, a civilian flight-suit with an undershirt and pants beneath it. Off-duty, she has a preference for sturdy and casual clothing - t-shirts, khaki pants, and boots. She can sometimes wear a scarf in RAF fashion, and also aviation jackets, complete with her old squadron patches.

Accessories: A flight helmet complete with goggles, a black and gold pen kept tucked behind her ear, and two gold pins on her collar; one shaped like an airplane, the other like a hornet. When flying she wears a headset.

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 4, Stamina 3
Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 2, Composure 3

Mental Skills: Academics 2 (WWII), Computers 2, Crafts 3 (Machinery), Medicine 3, Science 3
Physical Skills: Athletics 3, Brawl 1, Drive 4 (Fixed-Wing Aircraft, Rotary-Wing Aircraft), Firearms 3, Stealth 2, Survival 2, Weaponry 3
Social Skills: Empathy 1, Intimidation 1, Persuasion 2, Streetwise 1

Merits: Allies (RAF) 3, Athletics Dodge 1, Contacts (Pilots, WWII Collectors) 2, Decorated 2, Fast Reflexes 2, Fighting Style (Improvised Weaponry) 3, Resources 4, Technophile (Aviation) 2

Willpower: 5
Morality: 7
Virtue: Justice
Vice: Lust

Health: 8
Initiative: 8
Defense: 3
Armor: 2/0 (Flight Jacket)
Speed: 12

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Improvised Weapon............ 1(L)................ 7
Colt M1911A1...................3L...................10..............30/60/120 range, 7 ammo




 

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