SAVE Envoy Roster

[Nina]

place completed Characters here.

[Veral]

Name: Joseph Kampfer 

Alias: Joe Klass

Height: 5’9”

Weight: 175 lbs.

Age: 28

Hair: Platinum Blonde(think a bit lighter than Lucius Malfoy)

Eyes: Blue, but usually wears contacts that make his eyes look purple.

 

Attributes:

AGL 40

DEX 50

FOC 50

PCN 50

PSY 70

STR 40

 

STA 40

WPR 60

REF 50

STU 25

 

SKILLS:

*Movement 40 Spec: Stealth E70

*Prowess 40

*Close Quarters Combat 40 Spec: Knives E70

Research 25

*Communication 70

Interview 30

*Fieldcraft 50 Spec: Larceny E80

Investigation 25

*Ranged Weapons 50 Spec: Shotgun B65

 

The Art;

Kinetic School: Skeleton Key E65

Kinetic School: Power Surge E65

 

Edges:

Famous (DistUrbEx podcast)1CP

Background: Locksmith 2CP

Emergency Medic 1CP

Information Source (Fan Forums for UrbEx) 1CP

 

Drawbacks:

Strange Appearance (Goth Noir Detective) 2CP

Addiction (Cigarettes [1 pack a day]) 2CP

 

                  Joseph Kampfer was born in a small hospital in Bangor, Maine. His father was an installer for a alarm/security system company, and his mother was a housewife. His home life was not idyllic but it wasn’t bad either. It was boring but pleasant.  Since he was little, Joe had a fascination with locks. He loved figuring out how they worked and how to bypass them. In school he excelled in science, but primarily in practical applications. His school did have a shop program which was another thing Joseph was good with. However, what wasn’t known in school or to his parents, he had broken into the school several times in addition to trespassing in a few abandoned businesses. When he graduated high school, he began taking apart some electronic devices that he got from yard sales or that neighbors put out for the garbagemen to take away. In addition, he was accepted by a local locksmith as an apprentice.

 

                He continued his urban explorations until he was nearly arrested by a cop who just happened to see Joe break into an abandoned hospital. Thankfully, Joe was able to convince the police officer not to arrest him but let him off with a warning and an admonition to stop what he was doing.   After this incident he reduced his activities to once every few months. In the meantime, he created a podcast called DistUrbEx, or Disturbing Urban Exploring, and an online identity dedicated to buildings that had creepy histories under the name of Joe Klass. This allowed him to blend his gift of gab with his lock-bypassing talent, which enabled him to gain access to some sites discreetly.

 

               However, on one of his more recent explorations, he ran into something he couldn’t explain rationally. He came across a ritual being performed in an old abandoned psychiatric facility that was due to be torn down later that year. While Joe was watching, there appeared to be a hole that opened up in midair. Something was on it’s way through this hole when Joseph’s mind shut off. He woke up hours later, still in his hiding place. After making his way carefully out of the building, he checked the time and about 6 hours had passed. It was 7am, so he made his way to Dysart’s Truck Stop where he tried to figure out what had happened. He arrived there just after 8am.

              

                A few minutes later, someone sat down at the restaurant counter next to him and engaged him in conversation. After a little bit of talking, Joe felt comfortable and relaxed enough to recount what had just happened to him. While he was talking, a calming effect came over him and he began to overcome some of the fear and horror at what he had seen. It turns out that the man next to him was a SAVE envoy who had been sent to disrupt the ritual, which had happened, but in the aftermath, he had discovered Joseph. He kept an eye on Joe until he left the building and followed him to the truck stop. After the conversation, Joe was drawn in by the envoy’s compelling nature. He soon joined SAVE as a new envoy. He was assigned to the _____ office where he is working today.

 

                His first official case, which has affected him greatly took place in the belly of one of the dorms at the formerly all-girls Wellesley College. He was investigating ghost rumors with his partner. While conducting the exploration, he overheard a voice speaking in a sing-song voice, reciting a rhyme.

 

The clock strikes one, Why have you come?

the clock strikes two, What thoughts drive you?

The clock strikes three. what comes for thee?

The clock strikes four, blood stains the floor.

The clock strikes five, are you even alive?

 

Since then, he has been fascinated by clockwork devices and timepieces.

 

                He hasn’t been able to find any information on the ritual that was being conducted that he came across but something about it is haunting him. After that fateful day, Joe has been a pack a day smoker. He smoked before, but only under times of big stress. At those times it was one or two cigarettes at a time. He also has developed a fascination with Noir films, such as those featuring Mickey Spillane and Philip Marlowe. However, his personal aesthetic, which had always favored the goth subculture was modified by his newfound appreciation of the Noir genre which led to a blending of styles that some have described as Office Goth or Corporate Goth. Either way, it’s a unique look that sometimes puts certain people on edge, in addition to his eye and hair color combination.

 

Drive:

To explore strange places and find out more about reality.

 

Takeaway:

Time is coming for me. Tick-Tock (affects his skill with Larceny regarding timekeeping devices)

 

 

Below are samples of his look. 

(Except with a dark red or black shirt, not white)

[Asarasa]

Deirdre ‘DeeDee’ O’Riordan

 

 

 

 

Description: 26 years old, 5’4’’, 120 lbs, Auburn Hair, Grey eyes, Curvaceous and Strikingly Beautiful
 

History: I used to think I knew what Evil was, Evil was other people. Then I learned better.

I was born and raised in Boston, the third daughter of a third daughter of a third daughter, not that it meant anything to anyone except my great-grandmum, Moira Doyle, who was from the old country, Ireland. She babysat me when I was a wee tyke, and I picked up a bit of her accent, even though she always muttered about the Shadows around me when she didn’t say anything about my sisters..

My da was a police officer. He faced the bad everyday and taught his daughters to defend themselves from a young age. Not that it seemed to help me much. My luck seems to run bad more often than not. I was eight when I saw my next oldest sister die right in front of me, hit by a car, driver wasn’t even drunk, just speeding away from not paying at the gas station. Da died when I was ten, shot when he was just knocking on a door to ask if the resident had seen anything. Mum had always been a hard woman, but she got worse after that.

I’d always been the pretty one, which has been a blessing and a curse. I developed early, wearing a real bra by eleven, and by the time I was thirteen, I was curvier than most seniors and could get into clubs and bars without much effort. My eldest sister Colleen was so jealous. I got pregnant at fifteen by my college age boyfriend, despite taking every precaution. He ended up being an abusive asshole, and I wasn’t going to put up with that. I ditched him and got an abortion, but Colleen tattled and mum kicked me out before my sixteenth birthday. Last I heard about Colleen, she was drugged out whore in Las Vegas.

Not gonna lie, but the next several years were rough. I couch surfed, worked what jobs I could to get by, did things I wasn’t proud of. Seem to have a terrible taste in men, since no matter how good they seemed at first, they inevitably turned to shit over time.

Still, through perseverance and sheer stubbornness, I managed to make something of myself. I ended up moving to New York and stereotyped it might be, but I stripped to pay for NYU and got a paralegal degree. Started working in the DA office as I started trying to get a lawyer degree.

That was the worst mistake I ever made. Three years I worked in that office. At first, I got great satisfaction when we put away murderers, rapists, and white collar criminals who destroyed the lives of dozens or hundreds.

But it was the depravity of some that got to me. That one that finally got to me and opened my eyes to the Unknown… I wish I could forget.

There was a girl, barely thirteen, abused by her uncle since she was six. The only thing holding her together was her dog, a dog her uncle had gotten her as a bribe to stay quiet. I was prepping her for trial, for her to take the stand against her uncle, and my heart broke every time she hugged her dog and pressed her face into his neck.

By this time, I’ve been to court many times, but it had never been like this. There was a pall over over the court, something made everyone tense and nervous. I could practically see a darkness emanating from the uncle, but he seemed unfazed by anything going on, his fingers steepled calmly, a smirk on his thin lips.

Though the trial seemed to be going entirely against the uncle, I still got an inkling the jury could go either way. I was with the girl in a safehouse the night before closing arguments. She wouldn’t let any men stay near her, so the pair of policemen guarding her were outside the motel room.

Suddenly the lights began to flicker, and then went out. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and a frigid chill filled the room. An ominous, soft tapping came from the door. I told the girl to hide in the bathroom as I moved in front of the door, ready to draw my gun…

There was no crash or thump, the door simply swung open soundless despite the locks and deadbolt, and chain, an man-shaped shadow standing in the doorway. But I recognized the gleaming dark eyes, the teeth-flashing smirk, that I had seen in court for the last three months.

I didn’t hesitate, I fired, double-tap to center mass. I couldn’t pass the physical to enter the police academy, but I’d been shooting before I was in double digits. I didn’t miss, but I might as well have been shooting at a pond, only causing ripples in that shadow before it was upon me.

His hands were on me, somehow, in me, a violation, despite my protestations and defense. I had taught Krav Maga for a while, but it didn’t matter. Its - this was no man, not anymore - mouth next to my ear, it whispered, it… exuded a promise.

“I have left the girl a husk, but you, my dear, I will savor for so long…”

I don’t remember much that happened after that. In the darkness, suddenly there was voices, and light, like the brightest, warmest sunlight, filled the room. The Shadowman either fled or was despersed, was gone in any case, and SAVE was there, saving me and the girl.

SAVE claimed that it was the resistance I put up against the Shadowman that made him… solid enough that SAVE could do something. I don’t see why they would lie, but ever since the Shadowman touched me, I’ve been more… aware of the darkness about us, the Unknown that loiters just outside of humanity’s cognizance.

And it's aware of me. I don’t sleep well anymore.

I joined SAVE, there was nowhere else I could go now, now that I have stared into the Abyss, and it stared back. I moved back to Boston, and now do what I can fight back against the Unknown, despite how tired I am.

Attributes

Agility 60 - *Movement 60
Strength 40 - Prowess 20
Stamina 50  - CQC 25 - Krav Maga M75

Focus 50 - *Research 50
Personality 70  - *Communications 70 - Charm B85
Willpower 60 - *Interview 60 - Counselor B75

Dexterity 40 - Fieldcraft 20
Perception 80 - *Investigation 80
Reflexes 60  - *Ranged Weapons 60 - Handguns E90

Sensing The Unknown 40

Edges & Drawbacks
Very Attractive (+30 to the difficulty number for checks where your appearance is beneficial)
Background - Paralegal (+15 to related rolls)

Addiction - Alcohol 
Burnt Out
Cursed 
Frail 
Hunted 
Marked 

The Art
Sensing - Third Eye
- Postcognition B80
- Prescient Dream B80


Drive - Found her Calling
History - Touched by the Shadow (P)

 

85/85 DP

Edited August 6 by Asarasa

[Shameless]

name- Daniel Oliver Archer
Age- 27
Height- 6'3
Weight 200lb
Hair- brown
Eyes- grey
handedness- left
 

 

stats (62)

AGL 60
Str 70
Stamina- 65
Foc 40
Psy 40
Willpower 40
Dex 50
PCN 50
Reflexes 50
StU 10

 

skills (15)
 Movement 60 (AGI)  (t*)
Prowess 70 (STR) (t*)
Communication(PSY)  (t*)40 
CQC 65 (Stam) (t)  B Knife fighting  80 (4)
Fieldcraft (Dex) 25
Interview 20 (WPR)  Interrogation E50  (2)
Investigation (PCN) (t)50 Tracking B 65   (4)
Ranged Weapons  (Ref) (t) 50  3 E guns 80 (5)
Research 25(Foc)

 

Edges (1)
Keen sense sight 1cp

Drawback  (-1)
 poor sense taste 1cp

 

Drive ground vehicles
Takeaway- Took down possessed fugitive

Arts (8)
Restorative School of the Art (4) 
Feat of Strength Master (4)
 

 

Daniel Archer, a Taciturn man of action.   After serving two tours with the Army, and even time as an Army Ranger, he took his discharge after a particularly rough mission, which had left him one of two survivors of his unit.   He seldom speaks of it, and since that time, he hooked up with an old friend of the family who had a business as a bail bondsman.   He served as a bounty hunter of sorts, finding people who skipped out, and bringing them in.

It was on the last job that took a turn for the Weird.   He didn't have any trouble finding the guy, but when he went to bring him in, he of course fought back.   He fought back so hard it forced Daniel to fall back on his Ranger training, hitting him with blows that would have normally been lethal, or at least crippling, to little effect.  Only by sacrificing his body was able to land damaging blows.

Still, it wasn't enough.  The guy kept getting back up, kept hitting him harder than anything ever had.  While he was being choked out, he could feel the darkness encroaching, he was saved.  A unlikely trio pried the man off of him, and then used a can of hairspray to force whatever it was that was in him out, and then turned it to goo.

For his part, Dan looked at the guy he'd come to bring in, thankfully alive, and his saviors, and all he'd had were more questions.

 

Spoiler