Quinn Thibodeaux, Cajun Gunslinger (Bolt Ace)/Wizard

[Starhawk]

Quinn Thibodeaux

Character Sheet Link

https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2787931

Race: Wrathful Human. (Bonus Feat/Fey Thoughts)

Classes: Gunslinger (Bolt Ace)/ Wizard (Evoker)

 

Basic Information 

I come from a long line of New Orleans charlatans, claiming to have the sight, passed down the female line. I guess I shouldn't be surprised at my 'transformation'. Some might consider it karma. I consider it a blessing, and evince no surprise that the unblessed jealously attempt to wipe out the transformed, though I prefer the term 'blessed'.

A Description of Your Character's Appearance: 

My skin is blue and here and there.. striped. My ears are longer than normal and pointed. Hiding any of this is problematic. Though I can apply concealer and such, it is of such thickness that a 'close to' inspection would uncover this fact. The Pure make a point of showing their entire face, with neither hat, nor mask. I could conceal it and look like a ninja but ninjas tend to get attacked on sight.

In movement I am as langorous as my Cajun drawl, but this is delibeate deception on my part. I'm not slow. Upon meeting me, I am no doubt surprising since my low, low husky contralto is  a full two octaves below what people expect upon seeing my face. I never trill. Someone once told me I sound like Fenella Fielding, apparently some long dead British actress.

A Description of Your Character's Personality and Demeanor: 

I have, I am told, a definite tendency to smirk through my crooked little mouth. When I say 'it's not my best feature' more than once I've recieved the reply, uttered in a tone of wonder and curiosity, of 'what is'? So, yes... I'm a Cajun coquette from the city of zombies and juju, complete with a low voice that promises delights, though not when singing, or more accurately croaking. Exotic's the word. It's almost impossible for me to make a statement without hedging it around with exceptions, definitions and other verbal flourishes. What can I say? I'm wordy.

I keep my chin down and my eyes up. I kiss with my eyes closed, saunter with a hipswaying gait and generally put it out there that I revel in being a girl.     

I respect the dignity of any man that respects mine, a quote I got from a Dune movie. I also like a quote from John Wayne's last movie, The Shootist, which goes something like I won't be wronged. I won't be insulted and I won't be laid a hand on. I don't these things to other people, and I require the same from them. Most folk I give the benefit of the doubt. The Pure, well I know it's them or me, and so I don't hesitate. Like you wouldn't hesitate to shoot the SS, right? I don't take it personally, their hatred, well would it make any difference? 

 

A Background Summary that Describes the Following:  

Who was your character before The Turning? Before all this came to pass, I was a museum curator, well at least that was what the government believed me to be and I was, in part. In truth, I spent most of my time smuggling Hopi and Navaho artifacts into private collections for kick backs. Even so, I lived from hand to mouth, pay offs tending to my expensive tastes. It was always so in New Orleans and it would be so now, if every luxury were now not so rare as to be unobtainable. Gone are the days of Peach Schnaps with Peyote or Psylocybin with Korean Soju. My spirit quests involved ancient spirits of the single malt variety.   

So, in as far the family tree is concerned, the fruit didn't fall far. I had to get out of New Orleans, wore out my welcome by stealing from the wrong mark. One new ID later, I ended up in Arizona, replacing Juju black magic with Hopi mysticism. Perhaps I am paying for familial misdeeds with a curse. Or is it so? It could be the curse, if one might call it that, did not flow from the bayou, but from the looted Hopi burial mounds. Thus, I was a criminal in the times before as I am a criminal now and I can pick a lock like nobody's business.

Some years ago, another historian, one who makes oriental weapon replicas, made a crossbow for me. The one he made me was modelled on the Chinese pattern... repeating, but constructed with modern materials, internally at least. The thing still looks like an antique, like it would break if you cocked it.  The cops barely batted an eye when they saw it, the word 'cosplay' came up more than once. See, criminals use guns. I carry equipment that at best is used for an exotic hobby. Appearances are deceptive however. It's lethal and it's quiet. You'd be surprised.

I keep my lockpicks, ceramic to avoid scanner problems, in my hair and woven into my clothes. The thing is to not look dangerous.

With the Turning a lot of things that had been mundane took on properties they did not possess before. Apparently, magical things required people with magical ability, if they were to be used. Magic returned and so I found myself in an ideal position to supply such things to those who could suddenly use them. It was in this way that I learned what I know now, when my customer, my patron became my teacher. Did exposure to such things turn me? That's an unanswerable question. In any case, I have a book of spells, copied from my teacher's book. It is my most treasured possession, all that is left of my teacher, after they burned her at the stake as a witch. 

Events are not without a touch of irony. In the time before I would break into hidden places to loot corpses. Now I find myself in a hidden place expecting at any moment that enemies will break in and loot my corpse. Cher, what goes around comes around, n'est-ce pas?

What was their experience of the event like?   What were they doing?  What did they see? 

I was out on a dig, by which I mean to say looting a Hopi site, when half the team, more than half, just toppled over, dead before they hit the ground. We all thought it was a joke at first and we started laughing. I mean it was joke, right? We were still getting to grips with that, then with the horror, amid the the silence from the generator and the radios when the planes, nothing more than high contrails at that point, started falling out of the sky. No working cars, no working anything in the desert is bad. We made a run for Sierra Vista, three days on foot. It was like running from the frying pan into the fire. Take it from me, it's better to see a fallen city from the outside than to experience it from the inside. I expect in countries where the guns didn't outnumber the people, before one in two shuffled off the mortal, things were a little less lethal. In the good 'ol US of A, any excuse to open fire was a valid one whether it was end times, a rebalancing, political differences, what have you. It was like the Purge movies, only much, much worse. We only survived on account of the fact that I could pick locks, get into places then lock the door behind us. I was indispensable so I survived. Some of those places had guns and ammo. Other places had canned food. One of the places was a water delivery warehouse. A lot of people died of dehydration. We defended that place like it was the zombie apocalypse. It was a desert city in summer with no water pumps. go figure. 

What is one experience your character has had in the past two years, since the fall of Civilization?

The drug cartels, ever a presence on both sides of the border kicked into gear when the military fell apart. Everyone in uniform wanted to get to back to their families. The cartels.. well their families were right here. They were armed, organized and they acted fast. They raided a military base. The last time that was done was Harper's Ferry, right? None of the vehicles worked, so it was for guns, ammo, explosives and body armor. What do you give to the warlord who has everything? Anyway, some of the survivalists, the militias and the like had the same idea, so you had to choose sides. I chose the latter and there was a battle at the US Marine Corp Reserve Base. Cartels killed the marines. We arrived and eventually wiped out the cartels. I reckon there was a couple of hundred in that fight. They all died and there was like twenty of us left.

The difference was the militia had horses. Don't underestimate horses when vehicles are done. Now its steam engines.. We're back in the age of steam and horses, a blacksmith is a valuable man, or slave. Thankfully there's enough waste metal around that we don't have to go mining for it. World would still be going to shit in a handbasket if the Thanos moment hadn't wiped out half of everything. Now the wilderness is coming back, places are greening up. Well, except for the places that turned to slag when all the power went down. Try cooling a reactor without pumps. There was always the threat that a solar flare would create an EMP pulse that would take down electrical systems and still these idiots did not have non electrical means in place.

Now..

I've come in from Yuma, which has water, to here, which doesn't, because I was drawn here by someone, or something. If it's a someone, I'll find them.

Sure hope I don't have to take on the Kurgan. 

 

Edited May 20, 2023 by Starhawk (see edit history)

[Eborne1]

Everything looks good as far as I can tell. I like that you've focused your character more on your magical secondary class. I'll mark your application as ready.

A character lottery will be held in a few days.

[Eborne1]

Just a note: One of the starting players hasn't been online in a week. So just stay tuned as we may have our first death lottery sooner than later.