John Marshall
| Nature: Benefactor | - | - | Demeanor: Machine |
| Essence: Primordial | - | - | Concept: Former Drug Dealer |
| Player Name: Pharaon | - | - | Tradition/Craft: Euthanatos |
| Affinity Sphere: Life |
Attributes
| Physical | Social | Mental | |||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Strength | 3 | Charisma | 1 | Perception | 2 |
| Dexterity | 4 | Manipulation | 2 | Intelligence | 2 |
| Stamina | 3 | Appearance | 3 | Wits | 4 |
Specialties: Hand-Eye Coordination, Combat Reflexes.
Abilities
| Talents | Skills | Knowledges | |||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Alertness | 1 | Animal Ken | 0 | Academics | 0 |
| Athletics | 1 | Crafts | 0 | Computers | 1 |
| Awareness | 1 | Drive | 0 | Cosmology | 1 |
| Brawl | 1 | Etiquette | 0 | Finance | 0 |
| Empathy | 0 | Firearms | 3 | Investigation | 1 |
| Expression | 0 | Melee (Blades) | 4 | Law | 0 |
| Intimidation | 1 | Performance | 0 | Medicine | 0 |
| Leadership | 0 | Stealth | 3 | Occult | 1 |
| Streetwise | 2 | Survival | 2 | Politics | 0 |
| Subterfuge | 2 | Technology | 1 | Science | 0 |
| Other Talents | Other Skills | Other Knowledges | |||
| Carousing | 0 | Divination | 0 | Enigmas | 0 |
| Intuition | 0 | Hypnosis | 0 | History | 0 |
| Seduction | 0 | Meditation | 0 | Poisons | 0 |
| 0 | Riding | 0 | Thanatology | 0 | |
| 0 | Traps | 0 | Rites | 0 | |
Additional Abilities:
Meditation: 1
Lore: Awekened: 2
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Advantages
| Backgrounds | | |
|---|---|
| Avatar | 5 |
| Mentor | 5 |
| Reaources | 1 |
| Spheres | |
|---|---|
| Correspondence | 0 |
| Entropy | 3 |
| Forces | 0 |
| Life* | 3 |
| Matter | 0 |
| Mind | 0 |
| Prime | 0 |
| Spirit | 2 |
| Time | 0 |
| Misc | |
|---|---|
| Arete | 3 |
| Willpower | 6 |
| Quintessence | 5 |
| Paradox | 0 |
Paradigm/Practice/Instruments
Paradigm: Might is Right
The Law of the Jungle rules a dog—eat—dog world. As we're hurled through an indifferent cosmos, nothing matters beyond an individual's ability to impose his Will, even if if that includes splitting wigs. The truly superior man or woman excels because that person will accept nothing less than excellence. Anyone who cannot meet exacting standards is essentially agreeing to be fodder for the elite.
Practice: Chaos Magick
The left-handed path of Life that ultimately leads to Death, expressed through dirty fighting, provocation and debauchery; weekly self-reflection is also practiced.
Instruments:
Instruments'''
1. Dances and movement
2. Sex and sensualization
3. Meditation
4. Weapons
5. Voice and Vocalization
6. Ordeals and Exertion
7. Transgression
8. Language
9. Body Modification
Merits and Flaws
Merits:
None
Flaws:
| Cast No Shadow | 1 |
| Enemy | 3 |
| Vengeful | 2 |
| Nightmares | 1 |
Description
Character Bio:' John worked as drug dealer for a drug lord, he lived with his drug abusing mom and two childhood friends, a boy and a girl. The girl fell in love with him as both grew older. The boy's fate is unknown. He was recruited by the Euthanatos after his sweetheart was kidnapped and died in a shooting.
Physical Description: Descendant of Hispanic immigrants, John stands at a modest 5'10, olive skin, broad shoulders, squared jaw and a bit of a gut. He usually wears black or dark shades of red and purple.
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Backstory
Born to a drug abusing single mother, I was mostly raised by the streets in uptown along with two kids, Tyron and Bella.
The four of us lived in a community housing project together with other poor families, many of which were involved in some kind of bad deal, some were gang members, some were just trying to get by. When I grew older, Tyron made friends with some dealer and he started doing crack. We knew he'd be in trouble if he couldn't pay the dealer back, so we were forced to work for his boss, I worked outside an old building bur she worked inside, the place got heated at night, some shady looking folks came by, not like the ones we were used to. These were as white as the moon, pallid even for white American standards.
I emptied my stocks, I sold better than anybody in a matter of weeks, sometimes I sold it to cops even. To me it ended up becoming a means to an end, I wanted to give something back
to the people, something that would last, that everybody could enjoy, but at the time the best I did was buying clothes and foods for the kids and other families who were simply too vulnerable to not help.
Cocaine was my best seller, I wonder what was mom’s.
The dealer was just some run of the mill goon for a gang, they had taken an interest in Bella after this dealer told them about her, they came one night and saw her at the window. That was the first time I saw a limousine in my life, but it wasn’t nearly as intimidating nor commanding of respect as who came out of it or maybe “what” came out of it. I’m still not sure today, he had the shape of a man, standing at 7ft and quite possibly 600lbs, his face was snow white with two obsidians for eyes, no brows to be seen, a crooked nose and a mouth that opened wide with Sun colored teeth: “Hello, you’ve been making us very happy. You’ll soon be rewarded.”, He walked past me and entered the building but not after Bella, however, some of his goons tried to convince her to join but I told them off.
I had grown closer to her in the years we grew up together, not blood related, however. She had been my first but now she was feeling ill, sometimes even puking, her belly started swelling after a few weeks and I knew then it was time to move. Me and mom had been saving some money, she bought the bus tickets and I got a gun. We were leaving that evening but I got home a little late, - some blonde bimbo had taken me to a dark alley, I don't remember exactly what happened but I know it felt good, I got a bit dizzy as well. - as I was walking through the corridor I noticed the apartment door slightly ajar, I caught a fleeting shadow dangling from inside, I touched the handle and immediately felt a heart sinking chill run from my hand to my spine, as I pushed the door open I found myself staring at a broken radio splattered on the floor, near torn clothes and a sore bloke, it was Tyron that I saw, he laid there with red cuts in his hoodie and a cracked head,a pool of blood oozing from the wound and forming around him. He was getting cold already, eyes open towards the ceilling,a souless gaze twisted with dispair and the horror of facing his mortality at the miserable moment of his death. The foul smell disrupted any boiling anger within me. I knew what I had to do. I went to the gang's main house with a dozen friends, a few heads blown later, I found Bella in one of the bathrooms, she was happy to see me and I perceived her red eyes, then the door I had come through was opened and I saw an old crook with a gun ready in hands, I couldn’t react fast enough. The gun was fired but it wasn’t me dying, Bella jumped in front of me and then I shot. Drops of cocaine started mixing with the blood and my tears.
I managed to walk us both outside, the adrenaline had passed and I felt the cold bullets lodged in my chest but what worried me the most was Bella's heart beating slower and slower, then it when crazy, it stopped and never beat again. I felt my life slipping away, I'd be with her soon, then I saw that thing at the corner of my eyes, I'd go straight to hell and she'd go to heaven, I’d never see her smile again, for what I saw was the devil himself and he had come to personally take me to hell. He stepped closer and closer, even dying the fear still coursed through me, he opened the deformed hell hole with jagged knife like teeth through which he spoke:
"Few here would look after their own like you did, I've seen brother backstab brother time and time again, some would sell their own kind just for the pleasure",
I was shocked beyond belief, I'd piss and s**t myself if those things weren't leaking through the bullet holes already, "What are you?", his face twisted,
the edge of his lips reaching his pointed ears, allowing me to gaze upon his nasty unholy cavity, "I'm your guardian angel. Close your eyes and
think of her, I'll give you a new shot at life.", I was awestruck, the devil had a heart despite the fact it didn't beat, "What will it cost? Will it hurt as these wounds?", he crouched next to me, now I had grown no less terrified of his presence, then he whispered into my ear, "It will cost you everything that you're already losing, it will taint your soul and condemn you to hell eternally, but don't be confused, hell is here on Earth, with crawling angels and hidden demons in disguise.
It won't hurt as these wounds you have suffered, however, they'll hurt more than anything you have ever felt or that I could describe, for my compassion is pain and my love was shaped as my fangs."
His mouth was nearer to my neck by now, I wished so hard that he would just go away and rot in whatever hole he crawled out of, then he started coughing and I passed away from my wounds. Or so I thought. I’d wake up minutes later in my bedroom, I saw this Indian woman, she introduced herself as Larita, “I’m gonna tell you something you won’t like to hear. There’s something inside you, boy. It’s hard to explain. I’m gonna take you to where it’s dark but have no fear.”
Additional Notes:
Enemy (3 pt) I once received a box with pieces of my friends, there was a letter that read, "You have debts to pay.". I know they'll come for me eventually but I'll be ready for them, and not alone.
Vengeful The fat bastard and his goons have got another thing coming.
Avatar
Essence: Primordial, Demeanor: Contrary, Nature: Idealist
"The time has come and so have I for you're transfigurated and born anew. Know yourself to strengthen your strengths and weaknesses, tighten the links of your armour and sharpen the edge of your sword. You shall not wait until dusk to spread your wings!", he calls himself Majag. A winged golden snake with a flaming blue hue coming from his mouth contrasting the reddish lava like stream leaking from his tail. He mostly goes against my decisions, eventually offers advice but I expect him to be of great help in the future.
Nightmares I felt the sweat pouring down from body as I woke up, I slipped out of the soaked bed sheets, jerking myself out of that nightmare. I saw her face again, her almond curly hair between my fingers, the heat emanating from her body as life escaped it's grasp. Everytime I go through this dream I see her face getting more and more obfuscated, as if it was being eaten away.
Mentor Larita is about 5'5, wide hips, thin waist, full lips, brown eyes and long hair. She seems to be in her late 30s but no individual her age could be as wise, experienced and intelligent as she is. She healed me after the shooting, her small, soft, warm hands sealed my flesh after removing the bullets from within my body. It was like a miracle, I thought to myself, but I had yet to learn about what I and her are and the mysteries of our works. She taught me well. I progressed fast. She was proud and happy.
Resources I traveled down to Starke, Florida after the incidents in New York City. I managed to get a job as a pizza delivery man and a nice small apartment.
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Equipment
A 3 inches pocket knife.
A Kevlar vest.
An old fashioned pocket watch with Bella's picture.