Night Watch - Atlanta
An ordinary bloke, bit on the thin side. Narrow face and small eyes regard you either measuringly or amusedly.
|Name: Rhett Skye||Virtue: Charity||Accord: Sun-Chaser|
|Player: Brad||Vice: Lust||Breed: Laughing Stranger|
|Chronicle: NightWatch||Concept: Loveable Rogue||Species: Ermine|
|Intelligence: 1||Strength: 2||Presence: 1|
|Wits: 4||Dexterity: 4||Manipulation: 2|
|Resolve: 2||Stamina: 3||Composure: 4|
Mental: Investigation: 4 (Potential Crime Scenes)
Physical: Athletics: 2; Larceny: 4 (Security Systems); Stealth: 4 (Urban); Survival: 1: Weaponry: 2
Social: Persuasion: 1; Socialize: 1; Streetwise: 3; Subterfuge: 4 (Sense of Familiarity)
Favors: Darkvision: 1; Fang and Talon: 1; Nine Lives:5
Aspects: Bare Necessities: 3; Blank Burrow: 4; Blend In: 1; Sense of Familiarity: 2
Merits: Resources: 4; Fighting Finesse: 2; New Identity: 2; Barfly: 1; Parkour: 4; Mantle: 2
|Health: 8||Willpower: 6||Feral Heart: 3||Essence: 5|
Links: Vincent: 7; Locke: 6; Jacob: 6; Ted: 6; Zoe: 6
My name is Garret Hughes, and I guess I would be the man on the run. Wish I could say “Oy, weren’t me, was the one armed man!” But I can’t. I done it, I enjoyed it, and now I come to realize that while it was a bright shiny moment, perhaps I coulda thought out the long term a bit more.
Ya see, I grew up in the Camden area of London. No need to visit my time as a wee lad. Got into the rough and tumble and during one of those had my spark go off. Its bloody silly being what I am, but what it is, it is, right?
All this, natch, led to my current predicament. I made some chums in the Hidden world, found a Court what suited me tastes, and made quite a name for meself doing the odd job while keeping the money rolling in. London works basically off the old feudal system, each leader having a fief and his sworn men under them, each of these reporting up and up ‘til you get to the whole big men for Day and Night.
It was this set up why I found myself in the current berry. Not shabby with the bright dice and the shadow snatch if I do say so myself, simply a fact. If the Sun King hadn’t said what he said in front of the Moon Queen and she hadn’t promised the man who sunk the Sun King’s battleship a kiss, my current story wouldn’t be so all about the Get Out.
So I paid a few of the ghosties their due, gave the live spirits a chew. The fair folk thought it was quite the fun and even the breathless dead lent me a gun.
All said and done, the Sun King’s chariot was mine, the scene was made and quite a few little kiddies went to bed with full bellies.
‘Course Kingie decided such a feat, while perhaps worth a kiss from the queen, could be made to the chap’s head which was no longer in the vicinity of his neck. As I share a particular fondness with me head right where it rests, I cashed all me favors, spent all me spot and so forth to get both me head and me body out of the place. Perhaps I can come back home when all is said and done.
As I leave Hartsfield, I make me an oath to meself about trying to think a bit harder. Assuming this Yank city don’t kill me before I gets back ‘cross the pond, thinking end game is what I needs be doing. Course right now the game is settling back in, picking a few bits of the shiny, and keeping me head on the down low.
Rhett Skye is the name me chums picked. Seems Yank enough for me.
Hello Atlanta, whatcha got in yer pockets?