Scratch

Scratch is a Nosferatu elder of Chicago.

Overview

The Nosferatu Scratch is the oldest of his clan in Chicago, but he is an anomalous elder. Because he spent a lengthy span in torpor (from 1927 to 1975), he seems to be much “younger” in attitude than many with the same degree of Kindred prowess. He is not interested in the schemes of the Carthians or the prestige of the court or the beliefs of any of the Kindred cults. He wants to get by in comfort and keep a low profile. He is the staunchest of conservatives — the type who wants everything to stay just like now, only be better for him.

Scratch is a funny kind of coward. An incomplete coward. When taken by surprise he can handle himself adroitly without panicking or losing his panache. Or when he’s carefully planned and prepared to get into a situation — then he’s cool as a Minnesota New Year. But when he’s got something to dread — something hanging over him — some looming threat or problem that he can’t do anything to abort or defer — then he starts behaving erratically.

Credit it to growing up during the Great War. Credit it to seeing his dad carried off by the cops after a whole year spent on the lam, hauling his family from tenement to tenement. Credit it to going into a life of crime himself, because the kid of a two-time loser whose uncles all break fingers and run numbers doesn’t have a lot of options.

So eventually, the cops hounded him into becoming a stoolie. And his crimey pals hounded him into making his bones. And when the pressure from both sides got too intense, he did something stupid. He looked for protection from the most dangerous creatures on the face of the Earth.

Never get old? Be stronger and quicker than humans? Join a society dedicated to preventing people from even knowing you exist? Hell, it sounded like he’d be a fool not to jump on board. After all, he was already mostly nocturnal, and it wasn’t like he’d never seen blood spilled . . . .

It took him about a week to understand what the Requiem really meant, particularly one as a Nosferatu. Everyone else had a good laugh.

Scratch laughed last, though. He got the last laugh on his sire after three years, when she couldn’t get out of the way of one of those newfangled street cars — too used to horses avoiding her by instinct. She was too tough to get killed by the impact, but when she crawled in expecting him to help, all Scratch did was help her die.

Then he diablerized her.

Then, because he’d gotten a taste for diablerie, he did it four more times in the next three years before he tried it on the wrong vampire: the lover of an elder. That elder, whom Scratch believed to be the childe of Max Maurey, beat Scratch into torpor and threw him in the river with rocks in his pockets.

That was 1927.

Scratch woke up in 1975. After a few indiscretions, he got help from the River Snakes, then spent a couple years catching up to the future before successfully reintegrating himself into Kindred society.

It wasn’t too hard. He was an “elder,: he was a master of disguise and when he was a neonate, he kept his gruesome visage concealed out of shame. Surprisingly few Kindred remembered his old identity, many having moved on, gone torpid or come out of torpor with memories as scrambled as his own. As “Scratch,” he could effectively start anew.

The only mark against him (quite literally) is the stain of diablerie on his soul. So far, he hasn’t found a way to disguise that.

Until he does, he continues to be the Kindred equivalent of the racketeer he was in life. He still has some ties to the Snakes (though as far as he’s concerned, he’s paid them back for the aid they gave him, plus Alexi is nuts) but his interest in becoming a court big shot is exactly zero. His desire to rise in the Ordo Dracul is only slightly higher — he knows that if he joins the Sworn of the Dying Light, there are some circumstances in which diablerie would be encouraged. It’s not like he wants to do it again, but once he was in the Sworn he could make a credible case that the streaks he has now were gotten semi-honorably serving the Order. As a lowly Scholar of the Fiery Terror, he’s got a long way to go to get Sworn, but he would love an explanation for those black streaks in his aura. It’s not that he’s hoping to get to diablerize some traitor.

Okay, it’s exactly that he’s hoping to be ordered to do it again. He’s stayed clean since his new awakening, but not a night goes by that he doesn’t remember the rush, the power, the love that is the Amaranth.

Character Sheet

Clan: Nosferatu
Covenant: Ordo Dracul
Embrace: 1921
Apparent Age: Mid-40s
Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 4
Physical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3
Social Attributes: Presence 3, Manipulation 3, Composure 4
Mental Skills: Academics 1, Investigation 3, Occult 2, Politics 2
Physical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 3, Drive 2, Firearms 2, Larceny (Unlawful Entry) 3, Stealth 3, Weaponry 2
Social Skills: Animal Ken 2, Intimidation (Perverse Humor) 3, Persuasion (Perverse Humor) 3, Socialize 2, Streetwise 3, Subterfuge (Disguise) 3
Merits: Contacts 5, Resources 4, Haven 3, Clan
Status: Nosferatu 3
Willpower: 8
Humanity: 4 (Suspicion, mild: 4)
Virtue: Hope
Vice: Gluttony
Health: 8
Initiative: 6
Defense: 3
Speed: 11
Blood Potency: 4
Disciplines: Obfuscate 5, Nightmare 3, Vigor 1, Coil of Banes 1, Coil of Beast 2
Vitae/ per Turn: 13/2

References

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