Kid's Name: Elizabeth 'Eli' Patchworth
Age: 15
Appearance: A bit bigger and rounder than kids her age would typically be, since moving to town from the countryside, Eli's felt increasingly less comfortable wearing anything less than big jumpers and long jeans to hide her shape as much as she possibly can.
COME ON, LOVE, A BIG ARSE NEVER HURT ANYONE. APART FROM THAT ONE TIME IN ISTANBUL, AND THAT WAS A MIDGET, SO THAT HARDLY COUNTS.Personality: Big, brash, often very dogged in her opinions, Eli has a hard time making friends, since most of the other girls she's seen look thin and pretty and totally know it
PRESUMABLY THE ONLY THING THEY KNOW, LOVE, RIGHT?, and how the hell is she supposed to compete with that when you're born with shoulders like a forklift?
SUPLEXES. ALL OF THEM. After living a quietly happy life in the isolated countryside, city life has brought a ton if sudden insecurities crashing down on her life. It fucking SUCKS.
Favourite Things: The great outdoors, eating food & cooking it, being right, not feeling like trash.
Darkest Secret: Eli didn't exactly find Mr G. The whole thing with that was clouded with fear and anger and blood - Mr G seemed to be grateful that she...I guess 'rescued' him is gonna have to do. All Eli knows is that she killed more than one person in order to do it, and she honestly didn't feel a damn thing while doing it. That's probably not good. Something about a carnival in the woods. Games. The kind you
don't want to lose.
Relationships: Wanda (Mother) x2
I COULD BE A BETTER MOTHER THAN THAT BOSSY TROLLOP., Good Ol' Home Cooking x1, The Hunt x2, Mr G 'The Organ Grinder' x1 (Bond)
ONLY ONE? IS THAT ALL I GET? YOU UNGRATEFUL GIT.Feet: 3Dodge: 1 P.E.: 1 Kicking: 0
Guts: 3Courage: 2 Wind: 1 Wrestling: 0
Hands: 4Marksmanship: 2 Shop: 2 Punching: 1 Blocking: 0
Brains: 3Notice: 2 Out-think: 2 Remember: 0
Face: 2Charm: 0 Connive: 0 Putdown: 1
Monster: The Organ Grinder (a.k.a. Mr G)Appearance: Urbane, eloquent, aloof - Mr G is absolutely none of these things.
HOW BLOODY DARE YOU, I- OH. RIGHT. Frequently seen with a drink, smoke or both on the go, The Organ Grinder is a monument to fallen fame, wearing threadbare ringmaster clothes, his tophat battered and broken. Although not immediately monstrous in appearance, on closer inspection his bloodshot eyes are actually completely blood red, and by that point, you've probably noticed the long, gangly limbs that reach much farther than a normal person's should, and if you're
that close, you better hope he's in a good mood, otherwise you're lunch.
Hiding: Mr G is not a complicated kind of guy. If he needs to go away, he simply grabs on the brim of his top hat and yanks it down to his feet. He would appreciate it is Eli would wear it around with her, but she doesn't like the idea of him sitting on her head. In a pinch, his fingers sprouts from inside the hat, allowing him to scuttle around like a crab.
Personality: Pretty much flip-flops between grouchy hangover and psychotic maniac depending on the situation. Should there be an opportunity to raise a little hell, terrify some idiot mortals, or heaven forbid, someone takes a shot at Eli, he's a cackling murder machine of pithy asides and limb removal (often his own). When the situation is otherwise more peaceful, he returns to his more genuine state of a put-upon uncle looking after a cute, yet mildly annoying niece. He cares for Eli, and he does abide by her rules of not murdering absolutely everyone, but this girl really needs to get over some personal problems.
FUCK MY LUCK IF I'M THE ONE WHO'S GOT TO GIVE HER LIFE ADVICE. MY GOD.Favorite Things: WELL, I ENJOY LONG WALKS IN THE WOODS, A NICE SINGLE MALT AND A CIGAR, IF YOU'RE BUYING. OH, AND TWISTING OFF HEADS. YES, IT TAKES LONGER THAN JUST RIPPING, BUT IT'S GOT THIS LOVELY TACTILE SENSATION THAT YOU JUST CAN'T REPLICATE. AH, THE GOOD 'OL DAYS.. Are you done?
ALMOST. Well?
BANANA DAIQUIRIS. AND FRESH MEAT. THERE. DONE. Thankyou.
Trivia: The Organ Grinder used to be a legendarily nightmarish type of boogeyman, the one who caught all the kids who ran away from home who wanted to join the circus - except they joined
his troupe of lost souls instead.
AH, THE GOLDEN AGE BEFORE ALL THOSE PESKY CHILD LABOR LAWS. GOOD TIMES. His power, while subtle, was absolute within his domain, and his circus would travel the world, putting on fabulous shows of danger and splendor, totally unrelated to all those disappearances that kept happening at around the same time. Nothing to do with that officer, don#t know what you're on about. It was only when a very unusual boy walked into the Organ Grinder's trap that the tables turned - when Mr G encountered a will that was greater and more terrible than his own.
...CAN WE MOVE ON? PLEASE? Fine. Don't look at me like that. You can't do 'cute'. It looks like a dead puppy's head.
1: Dancing Shoes (D/U: Wicked Fast x1, Sweet x1)=2d
2-3: MY BIG BLOODY ORGAN. LADIES, CONTAIN YOURSELVES. (A/U: Gnarly x3, Awesome x2)=4d
4-6: Buckets O' Guts (D/U: Immunity: Disembowelment, Tough x3, Sharing x1)=9d
7-8: Light Fingers (A/U: Wicked Fast x2, Awesome x1, Sweet x1)=5d
9: Leering Gob (U/U: Awesome x1)=3d
10: Born Entertainer (U: Sweet x1, Sharing x1)=3d
Stats ExpandedDancing ShoesKeeping a circus troupe of damned souls is a busy job, and Mr G is fast enough to keep up the pace when the situation demands it, whether that involved dodging the odd thrown bottle, brick or bullet
(Defense), or wowing the crowd with footwork that would make Fred Astaire hang up his spats, go off somewhere quiet and shoot himself
(Useful).
WOW. THAT GOT DARK. Sorry.
THE MAN. THE MYTH. THE ORGAN.Oh God. Okay. So he's called The Organ Grinder for a reason, and NO IT'S NOT BECAUSE OF HIS PENIS. Goddamn. His first and often only tool of choice for problem solving his is Organ, a hand-cranked cross between a music box, meat mincer and blunderbuss. Loaded by, well, packing it full of meat, more often than not the bodies of whoever might have annoyed him lately, the Organ has an almost limitless capacity, having at one point contained twenty men, several dogs and a cow without gaining any additional weight
(Useful), before regurgitating them back out through the mincer as a barrage of ballistic blood, bone and viscera
(Attack).
Buckets 'O GutsHey, nobody's perfect. Sometimes you get in the way of the knife thrower, or piss off the lion tamer and all of a sudden there's big hole where your abdomen used to be. Thankfully, Mr G has guts to spare, and often does, hamming up any opportunity to gush forth torrents of his own blood, guts and colorful language should he come to harm, while deftly disguising the fact that he's not actually hurt at all
(Defense), or in a pinch, use his capacious guts to swallow and regurgitate anything that needs to be moved around incognito
(Useful). It's not pretty, and the swallowed party does have the option of chestburstering their way back out if they really want to try, but it's harmless. Just very, very traumatizing.
STOP BEING SO DRAMATIC. PARTIAL DIGESTION BUILDS CHARACTER - EVERYONE KNOWS THAT.Light FingersWhen you're part of the show, you've got be versatile, you've got to be good enough with your hands that you can dazzle your audience with nothing but a coin or deck of cards
(Useful) or, if they're getting a bit rowdy, pluck their eye out
(Attack) and swallow it like a quail egg. That'll teach them not to heckle.
Leering GobNever one to grasp the concept of 'indoor voice' when shouting is so much more amusing, Mr G can employ his booming great voice to draw all eyes to him,
(Useful) or single out a particular victim for a hellish series of curses, insults and rebukes that leave most simple mortals in tears
(Useful).
AND YET, NOT A SINGLE 'YOUR MOTHER' JOKE. I HAVE STANDARDS, AFTER ALL.Born EntertainerIt might be easy to forget, but for all his murderous and demented antics, The Organ Grinder is first and foremost a showman of the highest caliber, even if recent events have had him out of practice for quite a while. Still, he knows how to capitalize on a situation to get feet stomping, hands clapping and voices raised in joyful song. When The Organ Grinder plays his tune, the dancefloor is the only place to be
(Useful).
AS A GREAT MAN ONCE SAID, LEAVE 'EM WITH A SONG. GOODNIGHT, EVERYBODY!