Gregory
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* [http://nwod.org/forum/showthread.php?30669-The-Charity-Shop-that-Time-Forgot Charity Shop Time Forgot] | * [http://nwod.org/forum/showthread.php?30669-The-Charity-Shop-that-Time-Forgot Charity Shop Time Forgot] | ||
* [http://nwod.org/forum/showthread.php?31452-PrP-Gifts-That-Keep-Giving Gifts that Keep Giving] | * [http://nwod.org/forum/showthread.php?31452-PrP-Gifts-That-Keep-Giving Gifts that Keep Giving] | ||
+ | * [http://nwod.org/forum/showthread.php?32733-Shell-Game-Signs-of-the-Times Shell Game - Sign of the Times] | ||
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Revision as of 15:24, 26 June 2015
What do you do when you think no one be watching?
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Appearance
Mask
With curly unkempt hair, bulging eyes, and exaggerated features, Gregory is not what many would consider attractive. Hunched over and lanky, he is often seen wearing the same clothes and smelling unpleasant. In essence, a middle-aged homeless person.
Mein
His gray eyes are spread slightly apart like chameleon. His hair is thin and smeared to his scalp beneath two horns that curl along his skull. His skin is ashen and course. His frame is thin yet hunched over like a vulture who is accustomed to staring downward for long periods of time. A small tail trails behind him. Two wings adorn his back, unusable, draped around him like a cloak. He is a Gargoyle, fashioned to be hideous and yet just part of the scenery.
History
Prelude
Born in 1966, Greg Philp grew up in relative poverty, never knowing his father who had run out on the family. His mother and older sister were ladies of the night, one or the other usually being tasked with raising him until he could be sent to school. He was often bullied for his awkward appearance and shy personality. He wasn't particularly bright either and so didn't have much to offer when making friends.
Eventually Greg came of age and found himself in need of work. He ended up becoming a janitor. It was tedious and unfulfilling. He could only watch as others lived out their lives, seemingly comfortable and involved in the world. Greg felt like an observer, completely uninteresting and trapped in his own world. That must have been what his Keeper thought when he was taken. "A lump of clay," she called him, "ready to mold. Be my eyes and ears. Be my guardian."
The Taking
She was more beautiful than a dream to him. Having never known a woman's touch he was puddy in her hands. He would have followed her anywhere to listen to her sweet words, never truly knowing their meaning...
Durance
Gregory doesn't remember much of the life before Arcadia after passing through the Hedge. The tedium washed it right out of his skull. He remembers a landscape of Gothic Cathedrals, spires & stone parapets that dwarfed him. Gregory was part of them, an observant eye that prowled the borders of the dark twisted kingdom. His job was to see and report. But he also knew things, saw things that changed him irrevocably.
Escape
The Gargoyle watched and waited and listened until one day he alluded his captors and escaped back into the Hedge. Through stealth and guile he remained hidden there, doing his best to survive, having learned the outside dangers during his time guarding the gates.
Life After
Now that he's returned to the dim memory of the world he was stolen from, he is out of sorts. Penniless and poor he counts himself as a homeless person, sifting through trash, collecting cans, and sleeping in parks or alleys.
Simply returning to the human world created a whole new set of problems for Gregory. He stayed hidden at first, climbing trees, buildings, and taking it all in. There were no monsters waiting in the bushes, no teeth waiting to chomp down on him. What grew did not strangle him. But there were people, as he once was, who ruled here. There was an order to things, expectations, civilzation. Gregory had nothing, no identity, no wealth or skills to get by. The sky rained as it did in Arcadia, and he drank from the runoff and foraged from the leftovers tossed aside. When he discovered that the cities took care of their poor, Gregory took advantage, sleeping in shelters and eating at soup kitchens. Weeks went by before he remembered his surname.
He knew the Keeper would have left a Fetch in his place. If he had family here then surely they would take him in and care for him. Perhaps he could do away with the Fetch and reclaim what was lost. Simply remembering his family name did not narrow it down much. Sunsets over an ocean... Surely that meant the western coast. He worked his way there across the United States by foot, getting rides when he could, stopping by Freeholds along the way to share news and information, news of the Courts, their practices and methods of acquiring safe passage. Finally he came to California. Was it here that his family resided? Would he find the Fetch or would the Keeper be waiting there for him? Whatever the case, he was here now and he would watch carefully for dangers.
Scenes
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