Tortured every-man with a hell of a darkside
- (to himself) “Stop fucking arguing with me!”
Profession: Remote Sales and Marketing position
Compact/ Conspiracy: Cheiron Corp (Former)
Concept: Tortured every-man with a hell of a darkside.
Initiative Mod: 5
Intelligence 3 | Wits 2 | Resolve 1
Strength 2 | Dex 3 | Stamina 3
Presence 2 | Manipulation 1 | Composure 3
Academics 2 | Medicine 2 | Occult 2 | investigation 1
Athletics 1 | Brawl 2 | Firearms 3 | Stealth 2 | Survival 2 | Weaponry 1
Intimidation 2 | Subterfuge 2
Cheiron endowment (weapon of last resort) 2 | Fast reflexes 2 | Fresh start 1 | Resources 2
- Embarrassing secret
Profession: Laborer 2
Glock 21 | Range 30/120(-2 penalty) | Capacity 8+1 | Strength 2 | Size 1/S | Cost 598 | Ammo .45 ACP
+1 Practical XP
+2 Regular XP
My life at best is mystery. I was born Michael Allison to loving parents and a straight-laced life. From a young age I decided I wanted grow up to be a police officer, to help those in need. These were the machinations of a young mind, i know, but for some reason I never gave up. I came up in my native city of Littleton, Colorado, and joined the force at the tender age of 20. First chance I got I took the tests to get into the SWAT division. I wanted to kick ass and take names among the rest of Colorado’s finest. I served with distinction and honor, proud to come home and tell my wife and two daughters that i had done some good in the world today…and then things went bad. April 20th 1999 I got a call. we were to gear up and head down to the local high school at columbine. Two teenagers had armed themselves and were shooting up the school. My unit arrived at the scene and we were immediately told by our superior officers to stand down. We waited, and waited, and waited. Us proud few that had been trained for a moment just like this, a time when we could put down true evil. The moment never came. we listened to the gunshots and the bombs, all the things we were supposed to stop. When we were finally authorized to clear the building it was too late…the damage had been done. I saw what those boys had done and it changed me forever. The worst thing, beyond the carnage, was the look on their faces, the marks on their bodies carved into their flesh, and those horrible black eyes staring back at me.
A few weeks later I was visited in by a gentleman in an Armani suit. He said to me “I saw what happened, and I am sorry.” “I represent an organization that is dedicated to making sure that these things do not go unnoticed , that evil is extinguished from this world no matter the cost.” He told me he wanted me to be part of their security division, keeping things buttoned down tight at their research and development sector. After reading the company bio I jumped at the opportunity,I could finally make a difference. Just like that I was flown to a secret facility in Geneva…and this is where my memory stops being reliable.
I would wake up in a facility, white walls and floors. I would sit in silence, being fed and clothed, and then I would black out. I would wake up with fresh wounds sometimes. Wounds I don’t remember receiving. I missed my family, I could feel them every day. I felt something inside me, something cold and calculating, begging to be set free. After several months of this I woke one day in a desert with a fresh bullet wound in my leg and I heard a voice. “listen to me very carefully”, it said, “you have to let me take control here or we are going to fucking die.” “And by the way, my name is Mr. Ribbons nice to meet you.” After this I began to work hard on staying conscious in my time in the white room.
Over time I was released. I was told to return home and wait for any further instructions. I was in bliss, I enjoyed my family, and the monthly checks I received from my anonymous benefactors at the company were very generous. But unfortunately, this was not meant to last. One day I woke up to find my home burned to the ground and my family slain. I was laying on the lawn looking up at the sky…my hands smelled of gasoline. The police were quick to cover up everything, and i was set free.
It was at this time that I worked with therapists, hypnotists, and anyone i could find in order to figure out what happened to me. I was able to make contact with “Mr. Ribbons”, the entity inside of me. I figured out that I had been on top secret missions all over the world fighting what could only be called monsters. I was a high level operative designed to have another personality that could be triggered and would carry out missions all over the globe. what they never figured is that this personality would contact me someday.
The last mission he carried out for the company was to kill my family, a way to prove that he was completely under control and outside of my morals and influence.
At this news I lost control. I packed up and disappeared. I lived on the streets, supporting myself by working for a sales and marketing firm via my laptop. A great job as I needed to stay on the move to keep away from the corporation that created me. I moved constantly, trying to keep ahead of the corporation, but also trying to reconcile the darkness inside of me.
Myself and Mr. Ribbons now work on our own. We don’t have the support mr. Ribbons is used to; weapons and tech. But we still hire ourselves out to work with hunter cells all over the world, fighting monsters…We work in a very tenuous partnership, and I know this; Mr. Ribbons is tired of sharing this body, he wants to be set free and I don’t honestly know how long I can stop him. He fights because it is all he knows, and he relishes it. what he doesn’t know is that I seek out fights in order to find the one adversary that could kill him…and me right along.
A. email from within Cheiron Corp R&D division.
Subject: codename “failsafe” protocol
We are finishing up the final touch on subject 216’s psychological programming. I have to say this is a monumental task you have put before us. The melding of two streams of consciousness, in addition to the combination of the physical specimens, is proving to be more daunting than we originally thought. That being said, we managed to input the subject’s cognitive threat alert emergence protocols (codename failsafe) in place. From here on out when subject is under any kind of threat of violence from any direct source, Subject will enact defense protocols (codename Mr. Ribbons) instantly. I hope you guys know what you’re doing with this one buddy.
B. Transcription of Taped interview of Mr. (classified)
Candidate assessment interview day 1:
HR Representative: Please have a seat mr (classified), and we will begin
(Classified): Cheers love
HR Representative: for the record, please state your name, your nationality, and a brief statement about your background
(Classified): You sound so lovely and official miss, let me say. I am known as (Classified) and I hail from a lovely little shit hole just outside of (Classified) South Africa. I came up in the slums there and took to the trade of crime at the tender age of 11 when I murdered my drug addled whore of a mom while she slept. (participant lights a cigarette). From here I ran with the local street gangs and general miscreants left over from apartheid until Someone noticed me and I was drafted into the SANDF. I didn’t take too well to orders there, authority never did suit me well, so I was kicked out after just long enough to learn some marketable skills. From here I did freelance work with some of the best and the brightest murderers on the face of the planet.
HR Representative: And what kind of work would that be?
(Classified): (Participant chuckles) The kind that no one else would do, the kind that involves working with child soldiers, the kind that involves killing lots of civilians, the kind that involves carving up pretty faces just like yours to make an example. and you do have a pretty face by the way.
HR Representative: Sir let’s try to keep this professional
(Classified): You HR bitches are always so stuck up
HR Representative: (sighs) Can you describe for me how it is that you came into contact with “the other side”
(Classified): Of course miss, but only cause you asked so nice. I was on mission looking for a bunch of extremists calling themselves the “cult of the garou.” My boys and I showed up to their compound in the Congo and fell straight into a shitstorm. all I remember is a flash of fur and teeth and my boys, all seasoned commandos, being fucking wiped out in a blink. from there I ran and for the next 3 days I ran as I was hunted by one of these things that caught my scent.
HR Representative: what happened then.
(Classified): It caught me and I shot and stabbed the fuck out of it and chopped of its head. Things changed after that, I changed. I thought I was an animal before miss, but after seeing those things let me tell you I didn’t know shit. So let me ask you something miss.
HR Representative: what’s that
(Classified): Why the interview, why the pomp and circumstance. You fuckers knew god damn well what you were doing when you captured me in the jungle.
HR Representative: Just for the records sir.
(Classified): well you all should learn to let sleeping dogs lie ESPECIALLY THIS ONE
(inaudible thuds and screams and then the feed cuts out)