Origin Myth (Thuellai)

[dorkknight23]

In the beginning, there was nothing but the Titans and their will brought nothing but chaos and tragedy upon the world. When the children of the Titans, the Gods, bound themselves by Fate to mortals, they overthrew their parents and sealed them, bringing peace to the world. Now that peace has been threatened as the Titans escape. Only the mortal children of the Gods, the Scions, can use the powers of their ichor to battle evil Titanspawn and save the world once and for all…

To begin, what is your name, Scion? Who are you? And what are you? Write your name in the Book of Fate. (OOC: In short, tell me your character’s name, your concept, your pantheon, and who your divine parents would be.)

[thuellai]

OOC: Vital bits conveniently underlined. Yes, he uses some Creole. No, I don't intend to drop it into every other sentence. The three words you see in this paragraph are a good indicator of expected Creole-to-English ratios. The man is a professional.

My name? That'd be Caleb Preux. Who I am? Well, that's a complicated question, isn't it. I guess it's all about the essentials. Son of my mother, of course, and for a long time I figured pape was in on it, too. My sweetheart of a mom didn't give up the truth until Mait' Carrefour came down and told me his big ol' damn self. When you've got the word of an angry god of the crossroads behind you, even your mom's got to admit to some things. Hell of a shock, but explained a lot. I guess pops was in on it too - him and mom fell together a little after. Hell, he ain't talkin' anymore to confirm it, seeing as he's partying with Baron Samedi these days, but I've got a fair suspicion he's the one Kalfu rode while he was, er, ridin' mô mère, but that's rude speculation to make about your own parents. But a lot of that happened later. Supposed to start at the beginning in stories. Beginning of mine's pretty boring though. Here's what matters - I know people. It's my job to know 'em. Reporting is all about knowing people. Anybody can dig up facts, stick 'em in a paper, and print it, and anybody else can take a newspaper that sticks to the facts in the bathroom [and not for reading]. What people want in reporting is the human element. We want something with rough edges. That's what I do. The stuff I write's got edges sharp enough to cut yourself on, and I've cut a lot of people down with 'em. People lap it up. It's all strictly true, of course, but fact remains, it's my job to hurt people and let the masses watch. I enjoy it, though. Scumbags gotta pay sometimes. Everybody's gotta get what's coming to 'em. It's not like I'm working a tabloid, either - I'm a respectable journalist. I'm just also a cruel one, with a lot of enemies.

[dorkknight23]

Each Scion, like the Gods themselves, like all of creation, has different raw talents. Some are physically mighty, like Hercules or Beowulf. Some have great charm or beauty, like Helen of Troy. Some, like Odysseus or Imhotep, had great mental power. What are your strengths? And where are you lacking?

(OOC: tl;dr. What are your Attributes...?)

[thuellai]

Caleb has an uncanny understanding of others, which has served him well in exposing things they'd rather not admit to. But despite his tendency to twist others' words and turn them against their speakers, he has a certain charm that keeps them coming back.

Strength: 2
Dexterity: 3
Stamina: 2

Charisma: 3 [Epic 1 - Benefit of the Doubt]
Manipulation: 3 [Epic 2 - Blurt It Out, God's Honest]
Appearance: 3

Perception: 4 [Epic 1 - Subliminal Warning]
Intelligence: 3
Wits: 4

[dorkknight23]

What is your Scion good at? What skills do they possess as they begin on the path to Godhood?

And, finally, your Virtues. Do you hold the same virtues as your pantheon, or do you walk a slightly different path?

(OOC: Abilities and Virtues.)

[thuellai]

Abilities:
Favored - Animal Ken [1], Athletics [2], Occult [2], Presence [4], Stealth [2], Survival [1]
Other - Awareness [3], Academics [2], Empathy [3], Integrity [2], Politics [2], Marksmanship [1], Investigation [2], Brawl [1], Art: Journalism [3]

Virtues:
Harmony: 3
Order: 1
Piety: 3
Vengeance: 2

[dorkknight23]

Down by the crossroads down in N’o’leans, the moon hung dark and low. This was the kind of place Daniel Johnston would have sold his soul to play the blues many a moon ago. Caleb was here on a lead, his informant, a previously reliable sort, hadn’t given many details, except this was “big.” How big remained to be seen.

The fog came in heavy, and then the dog barks. You turn and see the well-dressed man, skin darker than coffee grounds, jangling his keys, holding his big black dog at bay. “You late, boy.”

[thuellai]

Caleb grinned a winning grin, though internally, he grimaced. "Late for what, if you don't mind the question? My boys back at the office weren't real clear." Part of him resented the old man's dramatics, as if he hadn't grown up in this town and didn't know gimmicks when he saw them, but the other part didn't feel like arguing with anyone who'd raise a beast like that. "Just said you had something real big to share with the world. Well, you know me, I do big stories." Doing his best to seem unconcerned with the atmosphere of the night, Caleb lit a cigarette and stared at the man, waiting to see what revelation a man like this could have worth the front page his team had been insisting on.

[dorkknight23]

"Ain't to share with the world. Just wit' you," he half-growled in a higher whine as the dog paced and pawed at the earth.

"Y'all're my flesh and blood. I rode yer Papa while he rode your Mama and you're as much mine as y'are theirs." He didn't say who he was, but you had a twinge in your gut as the very idea of this man being more than a man, speaking like a Loa, like the Maît Carrefour sank in.

"That ain't the worse of it, boy. The Titans, bad juju if there ever was any, they be loose and they be mad. I need your help, boy, eyes and ears on the front lines of a secret and silent War, helping me out and acting in my best interests."

"What you say?"

[thuellai]

Caleb was speechless for a moment. The cigarette burned very close to his fingers. Finally he settled on something to say. "Hell of a story." There wasn't enough force in it for it to be a denial. "Not the sort of thing I can print... but hell of a story nonetheless." The scary thing was, what he said had the ring of truth. Despite, of course, the fact that it was completely insane. "I'm a reporter, pape. Not a soldier. I don't know how to fight a war."

He found a spot to sit down, took a single puff on the cigarette, and tossed the remains to the ground. "Can talk a man to death though. Put some bad people where they belong before. So let's talk, ol' man. You owe me a conversation anyway. You never call home, after all. Tell me all about this war of yours and maybe I'll talk these Titans of yours to death too."

[dorkknight23]

"Dat's my boy," he smiles, and through his smile you can see the moonlight radiate, for just a second.

"Don't need a soldier," he says, "World's got enough of 'em and you know how dey come back. You know the old ways and the bad old days, Papa Shango would bring his sweet chariot down, and there was always room for one more, and Damballah would lead them out in the night where he could. Might is only good for so much. I need you to...be places when I need you to be, talk to people I need to talk to. If a Titan turns his back and you happen to be there, Ah'd appreciate a well-placed knife, but don't be a damn fool about it. Ya'll'll get some good stories outta it, some of 'em ya might even be able to write."

He leashes his dog, and pulls out his satchel... inside is a dark wood walking stick and a bag of gris-gris. "You got those fans too on dat net, dem tubes or whatever dey called..."

=========
OOC: I actually had no problems with your Birthrights and Boons.

[thuellai]

"I'll just consider these birthday presents to make up for all the ones you miss." Caleb gave his father a sarcastic smirk, drawing out the staff and admiring it for a minute before pulling the other charm from the bag and pocketing it. "Pretty nice stuff. I practically want to develop a limp to justify such a fancy walking stick. That or win a million dollars, but who doesn't want that, yeah?"

Caleb turned to face Carrefour. "So, you got any specific dirt to be digging? It's a slow news day, I could use something interesting to do."

[dorkknight23]

Kalfu smiles broadly. “I do. I do. I always got somethin’ going on…”

His dog, ever-vigilant, looks off, seemingly at nothing, Kalfu scratches behind its ears as he talks, “One thing you gotta realize, we ain’t the only ones out there. The Greeks, The Egyptians, Odin and Thor and dem folks, whole buncha families out there. We’re all workin’ together to keep the Titans down, most of the time. Specially with planes and stuff people move around a lot more then they used to. Now the slaves be comin’ in secret, and a lot of them be comin’ from down South or East. They sell them to the highest bidder like they nothing but cattle. These men got a girl, keepin’ her with some others just offa Bourbon Street, not just any girl, but she’s important where she came from. The crooks that got her have no idea who she is, but the Titans’ men, dey know, and dey want her too. You need to get in, get her out of there, and give the Titans the old slip. You can break the story too, the parts that people’ll believe, anyhow, it’d make a pretty nice exclusive. You down, boy?”

[thuellai]

"Another chance to get tied up with the lowest scum of the earth. Sounds like my average workday. So yeah, I'm in. Did you expect me to hear about a modern slave ring and decide not to get involved? 'spect I'll get shot at, but it wouldn't be the first time... They're working off Bourbon Street, huh?" Caleb was already planning his approach - the classic, mostly. Put the word out on the internet, but try and keep it subtle. Nothing open, just a few questions about the modern slave trade and how it operated, maybe talk to a few of the fans in private about any big names on Bourbon Street. Work the streets, of course, ask questions. And knowing how things usually work, probably get shot at a couple times before he figured out exactly what was going on.

"So hit me. I've got a plan of attack, but the more I know about who I'm going in to rescue, the better. Got to know what I'm looking for, after all."

___

OOC: So yeah, basically once he's got the info I figure Caleb would launch into the above plan - putting the word out, gathering a little info on what he should be looking for, and then hitting Bourbon Street.

[dorkknight23]

"Her name is Xi, full title's something I can't even begin to remember, Dutiful Princess of Something Or Other, but she's one of the shen, minor goddess from China. Don't know how they got their hands on her, and how she's not escaped on her own, but that's Fate for ya. That Celestial Bureaucracy's incensed, at least I got a form letter to that effect anyway, and they want her back the sooner the better. This is quid pro quo, of course, I've got some business with them, need-to-know basis for now I'm afraid. Now git, and do some good, boy..."

*********

Digging up dirt on the place proved easy. The true buyer of that three story off of Bourbon Street was shrouded in more red tape and economic sleight-of-hand than you could entangle immediately, but the company was known as "Intimate Encounters." They ostensibly brought in "models" for "entertainment purposes," which is code for prostitutes. Rates went for anywhere from $300 to $1000 an hour and their clientele, as such, was mostly white collar or traveling businessmen. They sent the girls out to hotels, but also would host certain VIP clients in their offices for "extended consultations."

OOC: Any more info you want to dig up?