Character Creation - Hunter: the Vigil
Aug. 18th, 2008 12:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fiat_knoxI'm going to create a hunter character some time soon. I promise. I have just the characters all lined up for you. But first, this.
Rather than an individual character, I have created a compact - a Tier Two organisation with a regional scope. To understand the concept of Tiers - cells, compacts and conspiracies - you'll need to refer to Hunter: the Vigil, which of course is out now.
Protect and Serve, motherfuckers.
'Show me dealing,' Detective Inspector Brake said to Control, when the call came in. 'Due to circumstances arising involving an ongoing case I am pursuing, backup is requested.' Domestic disturbance, Crowne Terrace tower block. Seventh floor. Flat 714. Jim was already on his way there - 714 was his confidential informant Katie's place.
The squalid concrete monstrosity that was the Crowne Terrace block loomed overhead as DI Brake approached and parked the car outside on the litter-strewn grey cracked concrete plain of the forecourt; all forty floors of it thrusting into the grey sky like a monolith stabbing the heavens, every window dark and empty, a thousand eyes that would never contain a soul.
The lift was, as usual, broken: DI Brake would never have used that dog toilet anyway. Climbing the filthy concrete steps, kicking aside discarded newspaper wraps half filled with last night's fish and chips and beer cans, and avoiding a puddle of vomit, he frantically tried dialling her landline number. All he got for his troubles was a curt message from British Telecom informing him that the landline had been disconnected from service. DI Brake swore. He paid for that damned line, just to keep her in contact with him. She was his sister, after all.
As he reached the seventh floor, he heard the radio crackle to life. 'DI Brake, please state your current location.'
'On seventh floor of Crowne Terrace, approaching flat 714,' Jim said. A crashing sound interrupted Brake's train of thought. 'Sounds like disturbance is ongoing, Control. Sounds violent. Where's that backup?'
'We're here, Jim!' came a voice from behind him. Jim turned, saw DS Henry and DCI Tarleton.
'We just got here a few minutes after you,' Janet Tarleton said. 'You're in charge, DI Brake. How do we proceed?'
There was a heavy thump. The door to 714 bulged outwards. DI Brake gasped.
'I paid for that door to be installed,' he said. 'It's solid steel. I put it there for Katie's protection ...'
The door bulged outwards again, as a heavier impact jarred the officers' feet and brought concrete flakes and dust down around them. Whatever it was in there, it was big, and strong.
The growl coming from inside sent a shiver down every cop's spine. None moreso than Jim Brake.
'Jim,' Janet Tarleton said, as the growl got louder, and the door at last began to tear loose from the frame, 'I know that voice. It's human made.'
'I know,' Jim said, sadly. 'It's Katie's voice.'
Variations of this compact have existed throughout the history of police forces worldwide. The first such police - based compact was founded within fifteen years of Sir Robert Peel's creation of a civilian police force. It lasted four years, before it was torn apart - as were many of its members. But within a year, another compact of police officers had sprung up to take its place.
The Badge is the compact that cannot die. As long as police officers exist, and see stuff that would turn an ordinary civilian's hair white, a compact like The Badge will form.
The current incarnation was born in the mid - 1980s, and so far it has survived in this current state to the present day: a testament to the enduring power of modern police tactics and resources. Previous incarnations born during the 20th century were as often destroyed by internal corruption and strife as by monsters. It was once said that Lord Scarman, a well known politician and crusading police reformer of the late 1970s and early 1980s, did more damage to The Badge's immediate predecessor than all the vampires of London combined.
The current incarnation, going by the name "The Badge," was founded in late 1986 by one of the survivors from the previous group, who went by the name "The Protectors." Detective Sergeant Cryer, now retired, was instrumental in bringing about the recreation of this police compact, but it was a junior uniform officer, Detective Constable Tyler, working with Detective Inspector Hunt, who coined its current name.
DS Cryer and DS Hunt have both retired; but Tyler, now a Detective Chief Inspector, still coordinates the efforts of Badge officers across the United Kingdom, occasionally coordinating with his overseas counterparts in France, Prague, Geneva and in various cities of the United States. The Badge is currently operating under DCI Tyler's leadership working alongside Interpol Agent Tremayne of the Swiss version of The Badge, a group called "Nemesis,' coordinating efforts around Europe.
The Badge look on the supernatural only as a threat if they violate the laws of the land and, by so doing, harm people. A creature that feeds off the poisoned occult energies lingering in a former waste dump, one that just wants to be left alone, doesn't concern The badge very much. A creature who feeds off prostitutes' blood, but pays for them and leaves them alive afterwards, might draw their attention because of the prostitution laws - but if they keep their hands to themselves where they're not wanted, The badge might just let the slide past.
No, the creatures the Badge hunt are the unrepentant monsters. The callous bastards who snatch children off the street and torture them to feed off their despair. The creatures who rampage through shopping precincts, leaving carnage in their wake. The slashers who shrug off bullets and walk through fire, and who leave behind their disembowelled victims surrounded by a circle made up of their own entrails. The Badge hunt the hardcore creatures; the ones for which there is no court.
And when they catch them, there is usually no appeal, either.
• You joined the force because you come from a cop family. Four generations of your forefathers were cops, and it just made a natural kind of sense that you'd follow suit. Truth is, though, you secretly wish you'd become a pastry chef like your Mum wanted you to be. Turns out that not only were your forefathers cops, though; they were also members of this group. So you're a part of The Badge, whether you're any good at policing - or even hunting. Whether you even want to hunt or not.
• You're a female DI - the first one in the region. A tough Superwoman, you're overcompensating for the horrendous glass ceiling you'd had to break through to get this job. The women in Uniform all mutter that you got the job because you'd slept with the Detective Chief Superintendent. Not really. You just knew what cult he was a member of, and you and your cell knew where all their bodies were buried.
• You're a retired forensics expert, but your connections and sources kept you informed and occasionally threw you a puzzle to figure out. One of them involved putting together pieces of what looked like some sort of an amulet. There were five pieces. The sixth was in the evidence locker. realised that you needed connections and equipment to figure out what the object did, so you pulled strings - and now you've got a surprisingly well-kitted out little back street forensic lab going. Just the thing, too, because the rest of the guys sometimes end up handling cases that can never get to court. But they still need to figure out who, where, how and why. You thought things'd get quieter after they handed you your watch.
The Badge doesn't specialise, much. Cops from all walks of life can join, from beat officers and traffic wardens to civilian auxiliaries attached to forensic laboratories. However, three informal factions tend to form whenever the compact gets large enough to develop specialities.
• Flatfoots are the general front line; the Thin Blue Line. From going out there and bashing in criminals' heads, to going around schools to lecture on Road Safety, these are the Badge members likeliest to be out in the field, getting their hands dirty.
• The Nerd Squad are the investigators. From retired detectives to forensics experts, these are the curious Nosey Parkers who can't leave the darkness alone. If something's passing leaves behind a scene of crime and discernible clues, these are the boys who will ferret out the truth of what just happened, and to whom, and by what, and why.
• Dirty Rats know that the forces of darkness are all about them. Some, sadly, have infiltrated the very police departments of which they are a part. If the cop by your side is some tainted Thing, your life could be in jeopardy. This faction keeps an eye out for signs of taint in one's fellow officers. If it looks like they're out of line, they excise the taint.
Network 0: I tried to stop some of these Net 0 types from coming in onto a crime scene we were processing. It's hard enough convincing a forensics guy to scrape up what looks like snot because it might prove crucial to a case, when some idiot with a camcorder comes in and leaves his footprints all over the place.
Loyalists of Thule: Weird, weird guys. I thought they were strange the moment I saw them at that fantasy convention at that supposedly haunted hotel. I had to bust them when I realised that they were there to steal a piece of inscribed wood panelling from an old building that had been built into an art installation in the lobby. I know they're on the right side and all, but hey. Burglary and vandalism are still offences.
Ascending Ones: I was on crowd control duty during the Pride March when some of these boys came past. I knew it was them, because damn, they stank of hash. Boxer - you know, the dog I handle - he went ballistic with the drug smell coming off them. All I could do was take note of their faces. If I see them again, Boxer won't be on his leash next time.
Task Force: VALKYRIE: We were at a conference last September. One of those international cop conventions. It's a junket. You go there, you swap jokes about drug busts with the Dutch cops, you share a pint with the Yanks, you go to lectures and martial arts demos, you go watch videos on the latest gear - riot shields, forensic kit, stuff like that. These guys were at some of the videos and demos of the tools they were using. They were recruiting. Man, I wish we had some of them toys ...
A hunter gains Status in The Badge through a combination of a good, clean case clearance record, solid investigative work and a fair degree of inevitable brownnosing. The organisation sometimes feels very Masonic with its semi-formal hierarchical structure; but the resemblance ends there. The Badge really are here to clean up the streets. Nothing more.
• You have recently joined The Badge. You may gain a free Specialty in Academics (law), Athletics (foot chase), Science (forensics) or Investigation (occult).
••• Your connections in the organisation are widespread, and your contacts in law enforcement find employment in a number of strange places. You may gain a free dot in Contacts specialising in one other hunter orgsniation (compact or conspiracy). You can continue to purchase Contacts dots separately.
••••• In the course of your investigations, your name has cropped up in many places. Many young officers seek you out as their training officer to go on field trials as part of their exams to become full sworn officers of the law. You acquire the services of a young up-and-coming police officer as a three dot Retainer.
Rather than an individual character, I have created a compact - a Tier Two organisation with a regional scope. To understand the concept of Tiers - cells, compacts and conspiracies - you'll need to refer to Hunter: the Vigil, which of course is out now.
The Badge
The Secret Police
Protect and Serve, motherfuckers.
'Show me dealing,' Detective Inspector Brake said to Control, when the call came in. 'Due to circumstances arising involving an ongoing case I am pursuing, backup is requested.' Domestic disturbance, Crowne Terrace tower block. Seventh floor. Flat 714. Jim was already on his way there - 714 was his confidential informant Katie's place.
The squalid concrete monstrosity that was the Crowne Terrace block loomed overhead as DI Brake approached and parked the car outside on the litter-strewn grey cracked concrete plain of the forecourt; all forty floors of it thrusting into the grey sky like a monolith stabbing the heavens, every window dark and empty, a thousand eyes that would never contain a soul.
The lift was, as usual, broken: DI Brake would never have used that dog toilet anyway. Climbing the filthy concrete steps, kicking aside discarded newspaper wraps half filled with last night's fish and chips and beer cans, and avoiding a puddle of vomit, he frantically tried dialling her landline number. All he got for his troubles was a curt message from British Telecom informing him that the landline had been disconnected from service. DI Brake swore. He paid for that damned line, just to keep her in contact with him. She was his sister, after all.
As he reached the seventh floor, he heard the radio crackle to life. 'DI Brake, please state your current location.'
'On seventh floor of Crowne Terrace, approaching flat 714,' Jim said. A crashing sound interrupted Brake's train of thought. 'Sounds like disturbance is ongoing, Control. Sounds violent. Where's that backup?'
'We're here, Jim!' came a voice from behind him. Jim turned, saw DS Henry and DCI Tarleton.
'We just got here a few minutes after you,' Janet Tarleton said. 'You're in charge, DI Brake. How do we proceed?'
There was a heavy thump. The door to 714 bulged outwards. DI Brake gasped.
'I paid for that door to be installed,' he said. 'It's solid steel. I put it there for Katie's protection ...'
The door bulged outwards again, as a heavier impact jarred the officers' feet and brought concrete flakes and dust down around them. Whatever it was in there, it was big, and strong.
The growl coming from inside sent a shiver down every cop's spine. None moreso than Jim Brake.
'Jim,' Janet Tarleton said, as the growl got louder, and the door at last began to tear loose from the frame, 'I know that voice. It's human made.'
'I know,' Jim said, sadly. 'It's Katie's voice.'
Variations of this compact have existed throughout the history of police forces worldwide. The first such police - based compact was founded within fifteen years of Sir Robert Peel's creation of a civilian police force. It lasted four years, before it was torn apart - as were many of its members. But within a year, another compact of police officers had sprung up to take its place.
The Badge is the compact that cannot die. As long as police officers exist, and see stuff that would turn an ordinary civilian's hair white, a compact like The Badge will form.
The current incarnation was born in the mid - 1980s, and so far it has survived in this current state to the present day: a testament to the enduring power of modern police tactics and resources. Previous incarnations born during the 20th century were as often destroyed by internal corruption and strife as by monsters. It was once said that Lord Scarman, a well known politician and crusading police reformer of the late 1970s and early 1980s, did more damage to The Badge's immediate predecessor than all the vampires of London combined.
The current incarnation, going by the name "The Badge," was founded in late 1986 by one of the survivors from the previous group, who went by the name "The Protectors." Detective Sergeant Cryer, now retired, was instrumental in bringing about the recreation of this police compact, but it was a junior uniform officer, Detective Constable Tyler, working with Detective Inspector Hunt, who coined its current name.
DS Cryer and DS Hunt have both retired; but Tyler, now a Detective Chief Inspector, still coordinates the efforts of Badge officers across the United Kingdom, occasionally coordinating with his overseas counterparts in France, Prague, Geneva and in various cities of the United States. The Badge is currently operating under DCI Tyler's leadership working alongside Interpol Agent Tremayne of the Swiss version of The Badge, a group called "Nemesis,' coordinating efforts around Europe.
The Enemy
The Badge look on the supernatural only as a threat if they violate the laws of the land and, by so doing, harm people. A creature that feeds off the poisoned occult energies lingering in a former waste dump, one that just wants to be left alone, doesn't concern The badge very much. A creature who feeds off prostitutes' blood, but pays for them and leaves them alive afterwards, might draw their attention because of the prostitution laws - but if they keep their hands to themselves where they're not wanted, The badge might just let the slide past.
No, the creatures the Badge hunt are the unrepentant monsters. The callous bastards who snatch children off the street and torture them to feed off their despair. The creatures who rampage through shopping precincts, leaving carnage in their wake. The slashers who shrug off bullets and walk through fire, and who leave behind their disembowelled victims surrounded by a circle made up of their own entrails. The Badge hunt the hardcore creatures; the ones for which there is no court.
And when they catch them, there is usually no appeal, either.
Hunters
• You joined the force because you come from a cop family. Four generations of your forefathers were cops, and it just made a natural kind of sense that you'd follow suit. Truth is, though, you secretly wish you'd become a pastry chef like your Mum wanted you to be. Turns out that not only were your forefathers cops, though; they were also members of this group. So you're a part of The Badge, whether you're any good at policing - or even hunting. Whether you even want to hunt or not.
• You're a female DI - the first one in the region. A tough Superwoman, you're overcompensating for the horrendous glass ceiling you'd had to break through to get this job. The women in Uniform all mutter that you got the job because you'd slept with the Detective Chief Superintendent. Not really. You just knew what cult he was a member of, and you and your cell knew where all their bodies were buried.
• You're a retired forensics expert, but your connections and sources kept you informed and occasionally threw you a puzzle to figure out. One of them involved putting together pieces of what looked like some sort of an amulet. There were five pieces. The sixth was in the evidence locker. realised that you needed connections and equipment to figure out what the object did, so you pulled strings - and now you've got a surprisingly well-kitted out little back street forensic lab going. Just the thing, too, because the rest of the guys sometimes end up handling cases that can never get to court. But they still need to figure out who, where, how and why. You thought things'd get quieter after they handed you your watch.
Departments
The Badge doesn't specialise, much. Cops from all walks of life can join, from beat officers and traffic wardens to civilian auxiliaries attached to forensic laboratories. However, three informal factions tend to form whenever the compact gets large enough to develop specialities.
• Flatfoots are the general front line; the Thin Blue Line. From going out there and bashing in criminals' heads, to going around schools to lecture on Road Safety, these are the Badge members likeliest to be out in the field, getting their hands dirty.
• The Nerd Squad are the investigators. From retired detectives to forensics experts, these are the curious Nosey Parkers who can't leave the darkness alone. If something's passing leaves behind a scene of crime and discernible clues, these are the boys who will ferret out the truth of what just happened, and to whom, and by what, and why.
• Dirty Rats know that the forces of darkness are all about them. Some, sadly, have infiltrated the very police departments of which they are a part. If the cop by your side is some tainted Thing, your life could be in jeopardy. This faction keeps an eye out for signs of taint in one's fellow officers. If it looks like they're out of line, they excise the taint.
Stereotypes
Network 0: I tried to stop some of these Net 0 types from coming in onto a crime scene we were processing. It's hard enough convincing a forensics guy to scrape up what looks like snot because it might prove crucial to a case, when some idiot with a camcorder comes in and leaves his footprints all over the place.
Loyalists of Thule: Weird, weird guys. I thought they were strange the moment I saw them at that fantasy convention at that supposedly haunted hotel. I had to bust them when I realised that they were there to steal a piece of inscribed wood panelling from an old building that had been built into an art installation in the lobby. I know they're on the right side and all, but hey. Burglary and vandalism are still offences.
Ascending Ones: I was on crowd control duty during the Pride March when some of these boys came past. I knew it was them, because damn, they stank of hash. Boxer - you know, the dog I handle - he went ballistic with the drug smell coming off them. All I could do was take note of their faces. If I see them again, Boxer won't be on his leash next time.
Task Force: VALKYRIE: We were at a conference last September. One of those international cop conventions. It's a junket. You go there, you swap jokes about drug busts with the Dutch cops, you share a pint with the Yanks, you go to lectures and martial arts demos, you go watch videos on the latest gear - riot shields, forensic kit, stuff like that. These guys were at some of the videos and demos of the tools they were using. They were recruiting. Man, I wish we had some of them toys ...
Status
A hunter gains Status in The Badge through a combination of a good, clean case clearance record, solid investigative work and a fair degree of inevitable brownnosing. The organisation sometimes feels very Masonic with its semi-formal hierarchical structure; but the resemblance ends there. The Badge really are here to clean up the streets. Nothing more.
• You have recently joined The Badge. You may gain a free Specialty in Academics (law), Athletics (foot chase), Science (forensics) or Investigation (occult).
••• Your connections in the organisation are widespread, and your contacts in law enforcement find employment in a number of strange places. You may gain a free dot in Contacts specialising in one other hunter orgsniation (compact or conspiracy). You can continue to purchase Contacts dots separately.
••••• In the course of your investigations, your name has cropped up in many places. Many young officers seek you out as their training officer to go on field trials as part of their exams to become full sworn officers of the law. You acquire the services of a young up-and-coming police officer as a three dot Retainer.
