San Francisco Streets

[Vondy]

The Preamble –

This thread is intended to serve as the campaign log for my new street level game, San Francisco Streets, set in the same world as my now defunct United States Freedom Patrol campaign, which ran from July 1990 to January 2003. The Freedom Patrol was a top-secret project under the aegis of the National Security Council of the United States dedicated to providing the nation’s intelligence community with a team of super-powered paramilitary operatives. In other words: super-spooks. Despite the fact that the Patrol’s existence was generally accepted as fact in the public sector during most of its existence, the government did not officially admit to its existence until the project had been terminated.

The Freedom Patrol Project was closed down following its final mission, which culminated in the deaths of over half of its members, including its director, Maj. General Judah Aaron Thorogood, who perished while locked in a death-grip with his arch-nemesis, Count Wolfgang Von Eroberung, when the Count’s escape pod exploded with the pair inside – “No one could survive that!”™. Despite the mission’s unexpected success the project’s operational integrity, as well as its member’s identities, were compromised. No attempt to reconstitute the project has been made to date. Its operations – with the exception of its last – remain classified.

The Patrol’s fallen were buried in a special plot outside Annapolis, Maryland, where the Freedom Patrol Memorial* was erected. All of its members were awarded the Distinguished Intelligence Cross, though over half of those awards, 9 of 16, were posthumous. Most of its surviving members have since retired from national service to follow their own path. Only one of its former members is relevant to the new campaign: Eleanor Samantha Pritchard, also known as Red Glory, the former Executive Director of the Patrol, has accepted the post of US Marshal for the Bay Area (technically a management to management transfer).

The Freedom Patrol Campaign Setting differs from most super-heroic settings in that most of the costumed crime fighters and villains are non-powered, often in the style of the great pulp heroes, with super-powered beings remaining relatively few and far between – despite major contributions over the years – until their numbers started to steadily rise in the latter 80’s and early 90’s. Even so, there are only 900-1000 active super-powered beings in the world today, with nearly half of them residing in the United States. This creates a greater focus on the Trained Supernormal Operative – street level style heroes, often with no, or limited, powers.

*The FP Memorial near Annapolis is a large circular dome of marble supported by sixteen pillars, each of which are carved in the likeness of a member of the patrol, standing on the marble floor, supporting the roof. It’s roughly the size of the Jefferson Memorial. Inside are the 16 marble sarcophagi set in a circle, which contain the coffins and remains of the 9 fallen members. The places of the other members are reserved for them. Each sarcophagi has a large copper coin (24”) with the Freedom Patrol Seal, set into the lid. In the center of the sarcophagi is a standing stone with each members name and codename on it, as well as the Freedom Patrol Prayer and Creed. The ceiling is a glorious bas-relief depicting their final battle. It is set within a copse of trees on a several acres of federally owned waterfront land. Its honor guard is provided by the Marine Corps.

San Francisco –

San Francisco is a famous world-class city, and one of the oldest on the west coast. It is home to immense ethnic diversity, with several distinct neighborhoods and districts, and is large enough to reasonably support several costumed-heroes. It has a major port, and tons of international traffic. It also has several neighboring cities, such as Oakland, Pacifica, and Berkley that are big enough, and different enough, to enhance the role-playing experience. What’s more, the sheer amount of information that can be found online about the city, its police department, and its denizens is staggering.

In the Freedom Patrol game, which was a globetrotting affair, San Francisco was just a footnote, known for two things: 1) being the home of the Bedlam Asylum for the Meta-Insane, constructed on Alcatraz Island in the mid 1960’s, and 2) being the home of one of the first masked crusaders of the modern era, Madame Mystery, who operated in the city from 1909-1979, though many theorize there was more than one Madame Mystery due to the length of her career and her apparent youth.

During prohibition San Francisco was home to Mister Big, the notorious empathic 3’ tall crime boss, and his All Meta Mob, which included several colorful characters such as Tommy Gun, Speakeasy, Knockover, Molly the Moll, and several others. The presence of the mobster not only attracted a handful of masked crime fighters, such as the first Phantom and the Avenger, but the FBI’s special task force, named the Suicide Squad, as well.

Following Mister Big’s incarceration at Alcatraz in 1933 the costumed activity in the city tapered off until Madame Mystery and her rogues gallery were once again the primary source of costumed activity. This state of affairs continued until the 1960’s and 1970’s, during which flurries of costumed activity occurred on a fairly regular basis, often centering on various revolutionary themes. The disappearance of Madame Mystery in 1979 marked a period of almost 15 years with very little costumed activity.

In 1993 the Lion, a Chinese-American hero in golden armor, with an array of amazing gadgets and vehicles, began a one man war on the local tongs, which quickly spread to all of the Asian crime groups in the city, and eventually, non-Asian criminals as well. The Lion is reported to operate out of his hidden base, The Lion’s Den™, somewhere in the city, and the city does have a Lion Signal™. He does not have a sidekick named The Cub™ (or anything else, for that matter). With the notable exception of fifteen months during 1997-1998, when the Lion was replaced by the Lioness, the Lion has been the city’s main stay of costumed heroics. The Lioness continues to make cameo appearances now and again.

In the past 2 years the number of costumed heroes operating in the city, as well as the number of costumed criminals, has dramatically increased. New heroes include Black Delilah, The Black Arrow, The Bull, Midnight, and The Marksman.

The Game Master’s Soapbox –

After 13 years I had a several reasons for terminating the Freedom Patrol Campaign, not the least of which was a desire to close the book on the tale with the satisfied sense of a job well done. The last arc was literally earthshaking, with plotlines that had major impacts on the characters, the shape of the world, and the lives of billions. It took six months to run that last part, and after 13 years of ever more perilous National Security Crises™ and Planetary Threats™, I finally felt like I’d done something I couldn’t top.

Another reason was a desire to break the formula and try something new. Despite the side campaigns I’ve run over the years I haven’t felt like I had the freedom to try different angles and do wild new things. There were several types of stories and characters that just weren’t appropriate for the game that proved my mainstay for so many years; cool things I, and my players, missed because we were too busy saving the world instead of the city, or even just a single person. I can honestly say that everything that could be done with the campaign had “been done”.

Related to this is the fact that a lot of the characters, having become old friends, needed a rest. It’s time to meet some new people. I also wanted to free my long-term character PC turned NPC, Anthem, from the burden of “Get Me The President!”™ directorship, so he could one day reemerge as “just another player character”. Hence his “no one could have survived that!”™ demise. One day I’d like to play him again, but not now, by any means. I have a picture of him in my head, visiting his own grave, with a contented sense that his job is done – for now at least. After 89 years of defending the world from the Count, and 60 years of being separated from his second wife (most of that time being spent in stasis), he can finally go on his honeymoon with a clear conscience and no fear that his beeper will go off.

Also, there has been some turnover, and the core of players who liked the pressure of National Security Crises™ and Planetary Threats™ aren’t with me (very often) anymore. Its too much stress for the current group of players, some of whom have been with me for quite a while, though not from the beginning. They want to worry about machine guns, not nuclear warheads. I think some of this may be due to current events in the real world. It’s hard to escape potential terrorist strikes with WMD and very real national security threats in the real world when your fantasy world is filled with them too. I think combating Yakuza thugs with guns and costumed cooks (make that kooks) with campy costumes and goals are a way of seeking a comfortable escape.

Lastly, I’ve always enjoyed pulp heroes and street level super-heroes far more than the “godling in tights” type of hero. I’ve always felt such characters were better characters in many ways. I stopped reading Superman, the JLA, the myriad of X-Titles, and the Avengers a long time ago (though I do like the Wasp and Ant Man). I just lost interest in characters whose problems and abilities I couldn’t relate to. I also lost interest in the monthly epic adventure.

I’ve found myself gravitating towards titles like Batman, Harley Quinn, Birds of Prey, Nightwing, Marvel Knights, Daredevil, Black Widow, and Spider-Man. I don’t buy all of those by any means – in fact I buy very few comics anymore – but those are the sorts of characters that inspire me: characters who are human, or close-to-human, who have human dilemmas, and sometimes, human opponents.

What Will Follow –

In the posts to come there will be character write-ups and adventure logs, all with my usual rambling commentary. It’s essentially the “when campaigns change…” thread from the old boards, but starting from the beginning, instead of chronicling the end, and hopefully not being rudely cut off by a nefarious DS attack.

We’ve already got three separate story lines going: 1) those focused on the heroine Black Delilah, 2) those focused on the hero Midnight, and 3) those surrounding a group of vigilantes who decide to band together to fight crime groups and threats they wouldn’t be able to handle alone. Each post will begin with which storyline it belongs to, the session number, and if relevant, the cast of characters.

So without further ado: San Francisco Streets

[Vondy]

Character Post #1: Black Delilah

Game Masters Rant

Humor Mode On!!!

This is my wife’s first character for a role playing game. She’s not big into comic books, but that’s the genre she wanted to try out. She likes Batman, Harley Quinn, and the Michelle Pfeiffer version of Cat Woman. When I asked her what she wanted she said: “some chick with a whip!” I knew not to go the Cat Woman route, though. It’s the art in the comic. She said something about her boobs being bigger than her head and laughed. Fair enough. More than a handful is… right, no boobs bigger than her head.

I decided – in the absence of massive mammary glands – that names starting with “She” or ending with “Girl”, “Woman”, “Babe” or “Femme” were right out. I decided to avoid “Cat”, “Kitten” and “Devil” too. No fluff characters with improbable proportions and anti-gravity implants. A dark avenger of the night it had to be. This is the woman who, when she heard Timothy McVeigh had been executed, cheerily said: “I’m glad he’s dead”, after all.

The theme I finally locked onto that inspired me for development was the Black Delilah killing of 1947. It was sensational, includes a woman’s name attached to a color (aha!), and inspires a visceral reaction from anyone who knows the details, especially if they’ve seen the crime scene photos (ghastly!). It also includes an aspect of turning reality upside down. In the real case The Black Delilah was the victim, in this case she’s hunting the perpetrators. Oh, and she’s got a whip she uses on them, instead of boob induced hypnosis.

She did go for some babe factor though. The description below was hers, not mine. Interesting, seeing as my wife invariably wears long flowing dresses and a snood!

Humor Mode Off!!!

Introduction

Black Delilah –

Michele and Karen Truman were identical twins, and best friends. They grew up in San Francisco, but moved to New York to attend college, where they shared a flat. Karen dropped out of college when she landed a lucrative modeling contract with a prominent cosmetics firm, while Michele continued her studies, and built a reputation as a talented photographer. By the time Michele graduated she had produced two highly acclaimed photo books containing her work, while Karen had catapulted into the glamour of super-model status.

Michele’s talent as a photographer combined with her sister’s success as a model helped her segue into fashion photography, where she quickly garnered a reputation as one of the best in the business. While Michele did occasionally join Karen in front of the camera for photo-shoots, she preferred to work behind the camera, and continued to work on her photo books between assignments. After two busy years of globetrotting photo-shoots, the twins returned to San Francisco, where Michele’s newest work was being showcased at a major gallery.

After the show Karen was abducted and killed by Harry Shannon, the “Black Delilah Killer”, who had killed 11 other women in the pattern of the Black Delilah slaying of 1947, which he was obsessed with. The FBI and local police promised they would capture the killer, and they did, but at the end of a dramatic trial that aired on national television, he escaped. Furious, Michele, an accomplished practitioner of the martial arts, tracked Shannon down and beat him to an inch of his life, breaking both of his leg and arms, most of his ribs, his jaw, his nose, and several bines in his cranium.

She had intended to kill him, but realized she couldn’t do that and not become like him. Instead she tied him up and made an anonymous 911 call, leaving the same crime scene photo from the original Black Delilah slaying next to him as he had left next to his victims. When the police arrived she was gone, and Shannon was screaming, “It was her! It was the Black Delilah!” over and over. He had snapped. One of his victims had returned from the grave to punish him.

The SFPD homicide detective who cracked the Shannon case, Greg Miller, put two and two together and drove to Michele’s hotel, where she was packing to return to New York. When he confronted her she admitted what she had done, but instead of arresting her he provided her with an alibi. He also helped her get a job as a crime scene photographer when she decided to stay in San Francisco, though she continues to earn most of her money from freelance fashion photography and her photo-books, which have taken on a darker tone.

Since then Michele has mastered the use of the bullwhip and embarked on a career as a vigilante – focusing mostly on violent criminals and sex predators. She leaves the same crime scene photo next to the criminals she takes down as she left next to Shannon.

Appearance –

Michele is a statuesque woman with an excellent physique and super-model good looks. Her hair and eyes are a warm, lustrous brown. She typically dresses in tailored slacks, slinky sheer blouses, leather jackets and high-heeled designer boots when in her secret identity. She doesn’t wear much makeup, and doesn’t need it. She drives a convertible black mustang. She lives in a Victorian house on Alamo Square’s famous “postcard row”, which doubles as her studio and dark room. In her Black Delilah identity she wears a black leather bodysuit, black leather boots, and carries a 21’ bullwhip. She doesn’t wear a mask, but no one seems to catch on – it’s a genre thing, I guess. She looks suspiciously like Sydney Savage from Danger Girl.

Supporting Cast –

Detective Sergeant Greg Miller, Homicide, SFPD: Miller is a hard-nosed cop with a secret admiration for Michele’s “justice not law” bent. He’s forty years old, stays in good shape, and is an excellent marksman. His wife left him during the Shannon investigation, taking their 7 year-old son, Tommy, to Baltimore with her. Despite the breakup of his marriage, the Shannon case launched his career. He’s been fast tracked for Lieutenant. He does worry about Michele crossing the line, now and again. He’s In On Her Secret.

Detective Sergeant Shane Richards, Homicide, SFPD: Miller’s partner and a pretty good detective. He hates “lawless vigilante types” and keeps hobby files on most of the ones on the Bay Area in the hopes of taking them down. Black Delilah has interfered in his cases enough to really annoy him, though he has no idea she’s right under his nose at almost every murder scene he goes to….

Ginger Tate, Modeling Exec: Ginger runs the most prominent modeling agency on the west coast. A retired model in her 50’s who keeps herself trim and tucked, she sends Michele a lot of work, giving her the opportunity to work with the big talent and land her photos on the covers of major magazines. She also gets her invited to important industry shows and parties. She does not know her secret.

Edgar Hernandez, Investigative Reporter: Edgar is often equated to the reported on the old Incredible Hulk television show that chased David Banner all over the country. He’s a freelance journalist specializing in the local costumed crime fighters. He’s written an expose on Delilah. He trades information with Michele on bizarre crimes. He doesn’t know for a fact that she’s Delilah, but has pretty much put two and two together, despite Miller’s alibi. Even if he were sure he wouldn’t print it. She’s too good a story.

Emma St. James, Madame: Emma is a 30 year-old Madame who runs the most exclusive escort services in the city. She met Michele when a man tried to rape her in a parking lot. Michele beat him senseless (in her secret ID). Michele has done a number of portfolios for her girls since then, and runs in several of the same circles as some of her more prominent clients in the fashion industry. She’s been more than happy to give Michele information about her clients and considers her a friend. She does not know Michele’s secret.

Verbal Banks, Confidence Man: Verbal is a short con operator with a mild case of CP. He talks way too much and can be extremely vulgar. He only knows Michele as Black Delilah. He helps her because 1) she didn’t kick his butt when he thought she was going to, 2) she’s actually nice to him, and 3) she’s hot. Verbal is in on the city’s underground rumor mill like white on rice. Yes, I stole him from The Usual Suspects (Verbal Kint).

Stats

Black Delilah

Val Characteristic Cost
15 Strength 5
20 Dexterity 30
18 Constitution 16
18 Body 16
18 Intelligence 8
11 Ego 2
18 Presence 8
20 Comeliness 5
8 Physical Defense 5
8 Energy Defense 4
4 Speed 10
8 Recovery 2
36 Endurance 0
35 Stun 0

Characteristic Rolls: STR: 12-, DEX: 13-, CON: 13-, INT: 13-, EGO: 11-, PER: 13- Run: 10", Swim: 4", Jump: 3/10", Lift: 200kg

Cost Powers END/Roll
6 Leather Bodysuit (3 PD/3 ED), OIF
8 Stretching (Whip) (3", NC: --), OAF
13 Combat Luck (6 PD/6 ED)
8 Fast Runner (+4", 10", NC: 20") 2
2 Strong Swimmer (+2", 4", NC: 8") 1
5 Acrobatic Leaper (+7", 10", NC: 20"), RSR 1
7 Fu Wall Scaling (Clinging STR +0), RSR
4 +3 Lightning Reflexes

Cost Skills, Talents, Perks Roll
3 Acrobatics 13-
3 Breakfall 13-
3 Climbing 13-
3 Combat Driving 13-
3 Concealment 13-
3 Contortionist 13-
3 Criminology 13-
3 Deduction 13-
3 Lockpicking 13-
3 Paramedic 13-
3 Shadowing 13-
3 Sleight of Hand 13-
3 Stealth 13-
2 Survival (Urban) 13-
3 Street Scholar
1 1) Underworld 11-
1 2) World Criminals 11-
1 3) SF Police PD 11-
1 4) Scents 11-
1 5) Telephone, Sewer, Utility Systems 11-
1 6) Law Enforcement World 11
1 7) Karate 11-
1 8) Fashion World 11-
1 9) Serial Killers 11-
1 10) Photography 11-
2 CK: San Francisco 11-
2 PS: Fashion & Art Photography 11-
2 PS: Crime Scene Photographer 11-
2 SS: Psychology/Criminal Pathology 11-
3 Well-Connected
1 Det. Sgt. Greg Miller (Homicide) 11-
1 Ginger Tate (Modeling Exec) 11-
1 Edgar Hernandez (Investigative Reporter) 11-
1 Emma St. James (Madame) 11-
1 Verbal Banks (Short Con) 11-
50 Karate & Whip Fighting
(5) Palm/Snap (OCV +1, DCV +3, 5d6)
(4) Punch/Slash (OCV +0, DCV +2, 7d6)
(5) Kick/Cut (OCV ?2, DCV +1, 9d6)
(4) Block (OCV +2, DCV +2)
(4) Chop (OCV -2, DCV +0, 2d6 HKA)
(4) Disarm (OCV -1, DCV +1)
(4) Escape (OCV --, DCV +5)
(3) Grab (OCV -1, DCV -1, STR 35)
(3) Trip (OCV +2, DCV -1, 6d6)
(5) Choke (OCV -2, DCV +0, Grab, 3d6 NND)
(1) WE: Whip
(8) +2 DC for Martial Attacks
24 +3 level w/All Combat
10 Defense Maneuver IV
2 Income: 200K Per Annum


100+ Disadvantages
20 Normal Characteristic Maxima
20 Devoted To Justice, Not Law (Common, Total)
15 Code Versus Killing (Common, Strong)
15 Secret Identity: Michelle Truman
15 Reputation: Vigilante (11-, Extreme)
10 DF: Style Disadvantage
10 DF: Supermodel Model Gorgeous
10 DF: Ego Signature
20 Hunted: Org Crime Boss Of The Week (8-)
10 Hunted: Shane Richards (Det. Sgt) (8-)


OCV: 7; DCV: 7; ECV: 4; Mental Def.: 0; Phases: 3, 6, 9, 12
PD/rPD: 17/9; ED/rED: 17/9
COSTS: Char.: 111 Disadv.: 145
Powers: + 209 Base: + 100
Total: = 320 Total: = 245

Notes

She’s 20 points over.
She’s missing 5 points of disads
She's got a whip!
Her breasts are smaller than her head

[Edsel]

Very Impressive. I downloaded the stats and the artwork. Whenever my Dark Champions campaign resumes I may "borrow" this concept for use as a NPC (as long as that's okay by you).

[Vondy]

Originally posted by Edsel
Very Impressive. I downloaded the stats and the artwork. Whenever my Dark Champions campaign resumes I may "borrow" this concept for use as a NPC (as long as that's okay by you).

Its fine by me. Just credit me if you put it up on a website!

The art is, of course, J. Scott Campbell.

[Vondy]

Character Post #2: Midnight

Game Masters Rant

Midnight was originally created by one of my players – Jeremy – for use by Commander Ken in his Marvel New York game. Ken never played him as his schedule, before being shipped to Iraq to do the Marine thing, didn’t allow him to make many of the games. One of the players in my Freedom Patrol game took a liking to him, however, and said he wanted to play him in San Francisco Streets. Jeremy’s game tends to run to the high-powered interpretation of characters and their abilities – not a criticism, just an observation – and he initially weighed in at 410 points. I shaved off 109 points, and restructured his skills and powers to make him work in my game.

Additionally: while there were a lot of details on the character sheet that could be used to make a background, he didn’t have one fleshed out. All we knew was that he was Italian-American, owned a boxing gym, had an uncle Sal who was a crippled prizefighter, and several contacts of dubious character. As for his motivation: he was driven by family tragedy, though that wasn’t spelled out for us. I took all of that and came up with the information that follows. I seldom see a character someone else makes that I would want to play myself. Midnight is one.

To sum up: initial concept by Jeremy, details by David, passion by Ward, all in the merit of Commander Ken, may he return to us speedily and safely after poking Saddam in the tuches with his bayonet.

Introduction

Midnight –

Vittorio “Tory” Mangione grew up in Manhattan’s Little Italy, where his mother owned a corner grocery and delicatessen. His father, Alfonso, a button man in the Torcionne mafia family, was convicted on seventeen counts of murder and sentenced to life in prison without parole when Tory was eight years old, making his maternal uncle, Salvatore “The Monster” Montoya, a championship prizefighter, the primary male influence in his life. Before being led away from the courtroom Tory’s father admonished him to listen to Sal, and not to follow in his footsteps, to stay out of the mob, to live a good life – to be a good man.

It was easy for a boy of eight not to want to stay at home – where his mother and three sisters dominated – and he quickly heartened to his father’s advice, running to the gym where Sal worked out every day to do his homework, and more importantly in his mind, to learn how to box. In addition to teaching Tory traditional boxing, Sal took him to other gyms and martial arts schools to ensure he possessed a well-rounded set of skills. By the time Tory had graduated from high school he was a remarkable fighter: fast, agile, and powerful. Like Sal he started to box competitively – winning several Golden Gloves titles by the time he celebrated his 21st birthday.

When Sal retired from the ring he purchased a gym himself, dedicating most of his time to coaching Tory’s blossoming career. When men from the Sorelli crime family came to collect on the loan Sal had taken out on the gym, threatening to break his legs if he didn’t pay up, Tory intervened and bought some more time – saying he could win the money to cover the interest and reduce the principle in the illegal bare-knuckle fights the mob ran throughout the city. The Sorellis agreed to get him into the fight circuit, but said Sal was a dead man if he missed a payment.

Tory proved he had the mettle for the task and, after taking down four men in consecutive fights in a single evening, made the first payment. Three years later Tory was the undisputed champion of the underground fight circuit, fighting in cities all over the country, in a number of different underground tournaments, using a number of styles. With one more tournament to fight, and one more payment to make to the Sorelli’s on the gym, Tory was ready to get back on track for winning a real title. His fight record would not be unblemished, however. On the night of his last underground fight Don Sorelli told him he would make his last payment by throwing the big fight.

Tory didn’t mind taking the fall if it meant Sal would be out from underneath the Sorellis thumb. He even agreed to let Sal bet the value of the gym, which he was now a partner in, on his losing. He went down in the last fight of the night and they made a killing. Their good fortune was not to last, however. A year later, shortly after Tory won the last bout he needed to secure a shot at the middleweight championship, one of Don Sorelli’s lieutenants paid Sal a visit at the gym and told him Tory needed to throw his championship fight, too. When Sal told the man to get lost or he’d suffer from “cranial-anal inversion” the man started making threats and Sal, losing his temper, beat him senseless.

That night Don Sorelli’s nephew, Frankie “The Hammer” Zotti, and a bunch of Sorelli soldiers caught Sal behind the gym while he was helping the janitor take out the garbage and broke his back before killing the janitor and torching the gym, leaving him there to watch it burn to the ground. When Tory found out what had happened he decided something had to be done. His father had told him not to follow in his footsteps, to be a good man. Simply being “good” wasn’t enough. If good men didn’t demand vengeance for the evil the innocent would suffer. And they did suffer every day because of men like Frankie “The Hammer” and his goons.

It was almost midnight when Tory finally tracked down Frankie and his crew at their favorite nudie bar, bragging about what they had done. Dressed in a black jumpsuit and ski mask, and armed with a lead pipe, he sent every single one of them to the same hospital they had put Sal into. Frankie lost an eye and most of his teeth in the fight. Tory could hear the Cathedral bells striking midnight as he disappeared across the rooftops.

It was Don Torcionne who woke him up the next morning – sitting in the chair next to his bed, the bloody lead pipe on the nightstand between them. The Don told Tory he had come to give him some advice, out of respect for his father: drop out of the fight circuit – for his family’s sake. If he kept boxing and didn’t play ball with Don Sorelli his mother and three sisters would pay for it. The Don didn’t comment on the gory pipe until he got up to leave: “If you’re going to do this comic book kid’s stuff,” the don told him. “Get a costume.”

Tory realized Don Torcionne was right: a boxing championship wasn’t worth his family’s well being, and he had more important things to do than waste his talents on a meaningless quest for gold and fame. The innocent needed a protector, an angel of vengeance to take up their cause. He decided he would take Sal to San Francisco, where they could start a new gym – well away from the Sorellis – and he could start his career as a dark avenger of the night. He also decided to take the don’s other piece of advice: he needed a costume.

Tory has been fighting crime in San Francisco under the moniker Midnight for the past year.

Quote –

“Vengeance comes at Midnight!”

Appearance –

Tory is a remarkably fit man in his middle twenties. He moves with the grace and power of a hunting cat. Women generally find his dark Mediterranean good looks appealing, as well as the aura of danger that seems to permeate the air around him. In his secret identity he tends towards dress-casual clothing and drives a refurbished muscle car. He often comes off as the quintessential “macho Italian guy”. He and Uncle Sal live in the apartments above their business – the Golden Gloves Gym – in San Francisco’s North Shore district. His favorite hang out is Mama Leone’s, one of the best authentic Italian diners in the Bay Area. His costume is black with a blue wing design on the chest and shoulders. He wears a tiny black mask that covers his eyes. He has taken to carrying a telescoping staff when on patrol. He looks suspiciously like Nightwing.

Supporting Cast –

Uncle Sal: Salvatore “The Monster” Montoya is now wheelchair bound, having lost the ability to lose his legs when his back was broken. He helps Tory run the Golden Gloves Gym and continues to coach young boxers. He also pushes Tory to stay in top form, having learned of his nephew’s secret shortly after coming to San Francisco. He has a real dislike for the mob and has become more religious, attending mass regularly. At 50 he’s silver haired and keeps himself in good physical condition.

Hector: Hector is a gang-banger from the Los Lobos street gang that runs in the Castro district who comes to work out in Tony’s gym with his homeys. The gang seems to really like “Monster” and doesn’t bring trouble into the gym on his orders. Tony often gets tidbits of information about what’s happening on the street from Hector, who likes to spar with – and lose to – him. Hector isn’t really that good a boxer. He has no idea Tory is Midnight.

Dmitri: Dimitri is a bare-knuckle boxing fight promoter who operates out of San Francisco. He knows Tory from his underground fight days and often tries to get him to go back into the ring. Since Tory was a “part of the scene” he talks shop with him, often dropping names and pertinent information in the process. He doesn’t know Tory is Midnight.

Fast Eddie: Eddie Finch, who prefers to be called Eduard Von Prochnow to enhance his so-called mystique, is a gothic vampire wannabe who hangs out with the cities counter-culture and punk crowds. He gets very prickly about his name, which doesn’t stop Midnight from insisting on calling him “Fast Eddie” just to annoy him. He dresses in out of date black velvet from head to toe, wears makeup in the style of Alice Cooper, and has long straight black hair. Despite his offbeat motif and unusual hangouts, Eddie has his finger on the pulse of the city’s underworld, and makes a living as a small time information merchant (and purveyor of pot). He usually tries to split when he sees Midnight coming (if he sees him coming) because he finds “costumed freaks” embarrassing to be around. Their relationship is strictly cash-for information in nature.

Stats

Midnight
Val Characteristic Cost
15 Strength 5
20 Dexterity 30
20 Constitution 20
15 Body 10
15 Intelligence 5
12 Ego 4
17 Presence 7
14 Comeliness 2
8 Physical Defense 5
8 Energy Defense 4
4 Speed 10
10 Recovery 6
40 Endurance 0
35 Stun 2

Characteristic Rolls: STR: 12-, DEX: 13-, CON: 13-, INT: 12-, EGO: 11-, PER: 15-
Run: 10", Swim: 2", Jump: 10", Lift: 200kg

Cost Powers END/Roll
20 Damage Reduction (PD, 50% Res.), Req. Con Roll
13 Combat Luck (6 PD/6 ED)
9 Enhanced Perception (all) (+3 to PER)
8 Running (+4", 10", NC: 20") 2
5 Acrobatic Leaping (+7", 10", NC: 20"), RSR 1
8 Telescoping Staff, OAF
(6) Extra Damage (3d6, Total 6d6) 0
(2) Stretching (1", NC: --) 0

Cost Skills, Talents, Perks Roll
3 Acrobatics 13-
3 Analyze: Style 12-
2 AK: Bay Area 11-
3 Breakfall 13-
2 CK: San Francisco 11-
3 Climbing 13-
3 Combat Driving 13-
3 Contortionist 13-
3 Deduction 12-
2 Gambling (Sports Betting) 12-
3 Martial Arts Scholar
4 KS: Long Fist Kung Fu 14-
2 KS: Boxing 12-
2 KS: Muay Thai 12-
2 KS: Karate 12-
2 KS: Martial World 12-
0 English (Native Accent)
2 Italian (Fluent Conv.)
3 Lockpicking 13-
3 Paramedic 12-
3 Shadowing 12-
3 Stealth 13-
3 Streetwise 12-
5 Sweeping Arm Block (OCV +1, DCV +3)
5 Elbow/Jab (OCV +1, DCV +3, 4d6)
4 Punch/Low Kick (OCV +2, DCV +0, 6d6)
5 Crecent/Side Kick (OCV -2, DCV +1, 8d6)
3 Legsweep (OCV +2, DCV -1, 5d6)
4 Atemi Strike (OCV -1, DCV +1, 2½d6 NND)
4 Dodge (OCV --, DCV +5)
4 Disarm (OCV -1, DCV +1)
3 Grapple (OCV -1, DCV -1, STR 30)
16 +2 level w/All Combat
5 Defense Maneuver II
4 +1 DC for Martial Attacks
1 WE: Staff
2 Contact: Fast Eddie (Snitch) 11-
2 Contact: Dmitri (Bareknuckle Boxing Promoter) 11-
2 Contact: Hector (Low Level Goon) 11-

150+ Disadvantages
15 Secret Identity: Tony Mangione
10 DF: Style Disadvantage
5 DF: Macho Italian Guy
5 DF: Aura Of Danger
15 PL: Must Protect The Innocent (Common, Strong)
15 PL: Driven By Family Tragedy (Common, Strong)
10 PL: Hunts Italian Mafia (Common, Moderate)
8 Watched: Investigative Reporter (11-)
8 Enraged: Innocents Harmed (11-, 11-)
15 DNPC: Uncle Salvatore "Monster" Montoya, Disable Boxing Champ (Incompetent, 8-)
10 Hunted: Mob Hitmen (8-)
15 Reputation: Vigilante (11-, Extreme)
20 Normal Characteristic Maxima

OCV: 7; DCV: 7; ECV: 4; Mental Def.: 0; Phases: 3, 6, 9, 12
PD/rPD: 14/6; ED/rED: 14/6
COSTS: Char.: 110 Disadv.: 151
Powers: + 191 Base: + 150
Total: = 301 Total: = 301

Notes

He came out at 301 points, but the disads line up.

Looking for a link for the picture we're using.

[Vondy]

Session 1 –

Storyline: The Black Delilah Files
Case: Behind The 8-Ball, Part 1
Starring: Black Delilah
Guest Starring: Midnight

Game Master’s Rant –

The purpose of this session was twofold: first, I wanted to introduce my beloved wife to role-playing in general; second, I wanted to kick off the San Francisco Streets Campaign.

Since this was my wife’s first time out I wanted to keep the session fairly low-key, and only invited one of the players from my regular group to join us. It kept things relatively private without leaving her on her own to carry the whole session. It also allowed me to start with the other player and provide her with an example of play.

In truth we didn’t cover much ground scene-wise, but we did accomplish a lot in terms of introducing her to game play, introducing the player characters and some of the supporting cast, and laying the foundations for the first plotline.

Scene 1 –

Friday, 11:40 PM
The Waterfront, Allied Shipping Entrance

After taking Uncle Sal to Mamma Leone’s, the best authentic Italian bistro in San Francisco’s North Beach (Little Italy) district, Midnight suits up and goes on patrol. It’s overcast, chilly, and quiet. He’s perched up on top of Coit Tower, thinking about calling it a night as he looks over the city, when he decides to give the waterfront a second look. He’s not disappointed. While watching the activity on the docks from a rooftop across the street he notices a U-Haul pulling out of the gate, which peaks his interest as its not a freight or delivery truck.

Before the truck can get into the street a pair of black Lincoln Town Cars pull into its path, bringing it to a halt. As Midnight watches six heavily armed Caucasian men in suits get out of the cars – the drivers remaining behind the wheel – and start moving towards the U-Haul. Mobsters! The leader, who seems vaguely familiar to Midnight, starts cussing at the driver of the U-Haul: “You explicative, get the explicative out of the explicative truck! You think you can sneak something through our explicative dock without our blasphemy-explicative knowing? Explicative you, mother-explicative!”

Midnight takes stock of their weapons (a .45 pistol, an FN-FAL assault rifle, a shotgun, 3 Mac-10’s) before taking a running leap from the rooftop to the top onto the U-Haul, using his acrobatics and breakfall skills to reverse his facing in the air. He lands in a predators crouch, drawing the gangsters attention, but they are unable to respond before he’s already charged off of the truck (screaming: “vengeance comes at Midnight!”) of course, and into their midst, dropping the man with the assault rifle with a death-from-above style kick and the man with the shotgun with an extension of his telescoping staff. The leader yells for them to waste him and takes a wild shot at him before he leg sweeps one of the men with the Mac-10’s, stunning him.

The two gangsters with the Mac-10’s who are still standing open up on him full-auto, forcing him to dive for cover behind one of the Town Cars, which results their turning the car, and the driver, into Swiss cheese. With the mobsters distracted the driver of the U-Haul, a man in a mechanic’s jumpsuit, and the security guard at the gate booth, both decide to make a break for it. The security guard is yelling into his radio, telling someone to call for the police. The leader of the mobsters sees the driver fleeing, takes aim on him, and shoots him in the back – twice.

Midnight becomes enraged (darn those pesky disadvantages), breaks cover, and charges the leader, executing a flying-spin-kick move-through into his back before going up in the air and bringing his heel down on the man’s neck with a very nasty crack – which doubles as an extremely violent presence attack, for free. The tableau holds for a second, and then Midnight recovers (phew!) and wades into them, using his staff to do a low, spinning leg sweep on the two closest men, stunning both as they hit the ground. The third man starts firing wildly at Midnight, who closes with him and does a side heel thrust into the man’s chin – sending him into the second cars windshield, smashing it. The driver starts freaking out and yelling for the other two guys to get in the “blasphemy-explicative” car.

The two men break for the car – running past Midnight – who takes the closest one down with a triple sweep punching maneuver (what the hell, he’s going non-combat for the car, right?). The driver backs up and peels out, laying rubber on the sidewalk, letting the guy on the hood slide off in the process. Midnight pursues the car part way down the block and gets the license plate. Returning to the scene of the fight he checks to make sure he didn’t kill the leader (lucky him) and then decides to look at the car that got shot up. He doesn’t get a chance to be thorough, however, because the police are closing in on the scene fast.

As the first squad car arrives he melts into the shadows and takes up a surveillance position on the roof across the street.

Scene 2 –

Saturday, 00:07 Hours
Black Delilah’s Residence, Alamo Square

After spending most of her afternoon at the gym, and a good portion of her evening at the dojo before coming home with a bag of teriyaki take-out and developing the film from the swimwear shoot she’d done for a prominent fitness magazine the day before, Michele was just finishing up in the darkroom when her mobile phone rang. She was still puzzling through why any woman would want to wear a slingshot thong bikini when Detective Sergeant Greg Miller’s voice into broke her chain of thought.

He wanted her to come down to the Allied Shipping dockyard on the waterfront. There had been a double homicide – one thug, one victim – he needed her to take photos of the scene. She shrugged and took the last bite of her teriyaki as she listened to him ramble on about it as he negotiated traffic, did she mind? Corpses made better models than the living, she told him. No ego to stroke. She’d be there in fifteen minutes.

Changing into her leather bodysuit and boots before throwing on an overcoat and grabbing her camera case she headed for the door.

Saturday, 00:24 Hours
The Waterfront, Allied Shipping Entrance

Michele arrives on the waterfront and parks a ways down the street in order to take in the whole seen as she approaches it. It looks like a war zone. There are at least six squad cars with their lights flashing, and a whole crowd of onlookers and reporters pressing in on a hastily erected police line. She she’s two ambulances at the scene. A pair of news choppers circle overhead. She pushes through the crowd and flashes her ID and a smile at one a young officer who seems suddenly very lively and raises the tape for her to duck under with a polite “ma’am”.

Almost instantly her camera is out, snapping shots of the U-Haul, the bullet riddled town car. She catches sight of Miller and his partner Richards interviewing a corpulent security guard who keeps having to readjust his web belt between excited gestures. From the look on his face this is the most exciting thing that’s happened to him in years. She decided not to interrupt and gingerly steps through a sea of shattered glass and spent shell casings as she moves over to take a look at the fist corpse, the man in the car.

Caucasian, a football player gone pudgy at the waist sort of build, middle age, and Italian, she thought, considering his complexion and features. It seemed logical – the Ponzi family controlled most of the illicit activity on the docks. She snaps off a few quick shots before turning to survey the scene with more attention to detail. The man the paramedics were working on also had the Mediterranean look, was about twenty, and was wearing, she noted, a tailored suit. They were putting him onto a backboard and affixing a neck brace. His neck, and maybe his back, was broken from the sounds of it.

Four other men of a similar description, all in handcuffs, were being loaded into squad cars or ambulances as their condition warranted. They looked like someone had taken a lot of frustration out on them. Miller finally finds her and fills her in as he leads her past the U-Haul and into the dockyard where the second corpse is lying. Two cars of men with machine guns stopped the truck and threatened the driver before a man in a blue and black costume with a mask waded into them out of nowhere. All hell broke loose. The security guard ran for it. So did this guy, he tells her as they reach the corpse.

The first thing she notices are his shoes, which stick out like a sore thumb. Gucci. White leather. Even the laces were white. Only the soles were brown. His hands are covered with white gloves like those a magician would wear. Her interest piques. She starts snapping shots as Miller goes to join Richards at the U-Haul, where he’s having problems with the lock on the back door. Stepping gingerly around the pooling blood Michele crouches down and snaps on a pair of latex gloves before half rolling the body onto its side and unzipping the mechanic overalls part way.

Underneath, the man is wearing what had been a pure white suit, with a white shirt, a white silk tie, and a white kerchief tucked into the breast pocket. She checks the tag on the collar and raises an eyebrow – Armani. That was probably a hand made custom item. This mechanic had interesting fashion sense. Suspicious she decides to check him for accessories. Under his arm he’s wearing a holster with a Walther PPK. She zips the mechanic suit back up and nestles him back on the ground, looking back to make sure she’d remained unobserved. Miller and Richards had gotten the young cop who’d raised the tape for her to go to work on with a crowbar.

It was starting to get foggy. She snaps a few more shots and bends down again, this time checking the pockets on the mechanic suit. One of them contains a full white facemask. There are no eyeholes, just a thin gauzy material where the eyes would be, so the wearer can see. Odd, she thinks. It all seems vaguely familiar, but she can’t place it. She hears Richards yelling at her as she finishes putting the mask back. He’s yelling for her to quit “fondling the corpse” and come take some shots in the back of the truck, which is now open.

She walks back to the truck and steps into the back where the young cop – D. Adams his nametag says – is standing, waving his flashlight around. It’s lined with crates, stacked two high, stamped with the word “Singapore”, but bearing no shipping manifests. She chuckles as both detectives bet on whether or not its drugs. Adams pops the front off the first crate with a crowbar. It’s filled with packing straw and he barely catches what comes rolling out. Michele snaps a picture and lets out a deep breath as he places it carefully on the floor. It’s a Ming vase. Worth close to five figures. Inside its stuffed with ancient chinese papers. The other crates contents are the same.

That’s when she makes the connection. Edgar Hernandez, the reporter, was telling her about a story he was working on involving a group of international jewel and art thieves who used a Pool motif. The group’s middlemen were called Queue Balls. They wore all white, including featureless masks. He’d been calling them the 8-Ballers after their code name for the group’s enigmatic leader, who he knew nothing about. It had sounded like a bunch of hooey at the time.

Finally – after another hour – she manages to break free.

Scene 3 –

Saturday 01:04
The waterfront, Allied Shipping Entrance

Midnight had spent a good chunk of time watching the police pick through the scene from the rooftop, unable to hear much, though he did catch the name of the man who’s neck he’d broken. He was Abel Sorelli, though his nickname was “Cain”. He’d been a bad seed, even by mob standards. He wondered what he was doing in San Francisco – indisputable Ponzi turf – working with Ponzi solders. It bothers him but he doesn’t have time to think about it. It’s getting foggy and he’s not getting much information from his perch. He stops to watch a stunning brunette in a trench coat with a metal case cross the police line and pull out a camera before disappearing over the rooftops to pay “Fast Eddie” a visit.

Saturday, 01:11
Haight-Ashbury, The Excess Club

Midnight drops into a crouch on the ledge of a building across the parking lot from the entrance to the Excess Club, his snitch, Fast Eddie’s, favorite hang out. The line at the door was long, filled with Goths in dramatic clothes, vampire wannabes with implanted fangs, and retro-savages covered in tattoos and piercings. He’s wondering how to get in when he spies a drug deal going down in a nearby alley. The dealer, who has a colorful Mohawk and a long leather trench coat, is selling drugs to a strung-out looking teenage punk couple.

Dropping down into the shadows beside the drug dealer as silently as a cat Midnight taps him emphatically on the shoulder twice and, as the man spins toward him in surprise, does a double atemi sweep maneuver. He catches the trench coat by the shoulders as the dealer drops out of it onto the pavement and spins it around, slipping it on as he stalks passed the stunned teenage couple, plucking the trio of twenties out of the boy’s motionless hand with the comment: “You shouldn’t do drugs – crime doesn’t pay”.

Midnight walks past the line to the bouncer and palms him the sixty bucks. The bouncer gives him the once over from head to toe, taking in the costume under the open trench coat and his mask, and gets a weird look on his face, remaining motionless. Midnight asks him if there’s a problem. The bouncer looks from Midnight, to the people in line, and then back again. He waves Midnight in with a shrug: “No. You fit in.” He goes down the stairs to the main part of the club, makes his way through the dim lights, the crush of bodies, and the smoke tinged with cannabis, pushing to the bar. The band is an awful speed-punk catastrophe.

The bartender points him to the table and Eddie tries to split when he sees Midnight coming. Midnight grabs him by the collar of his full length burgundy velvet cape, spins him around, and pulls a wad of bills out of the pocket of the overcoat (the dealers kitty), stuffing it into Eddie’s doublet. He pushes Eddie out a back door, where a narrow concrete stair leads up to a back alley. He tells Eddie he wants to hear what the Ponzis are up to on the docks. Eddie tells him the Ponzis got a tip from their Tong allies – the Jade Dragon Society – that a syndicate specializing in stolen jewels was coming in on at the Allied Shipping terminal tonight, and that they decided to hit it. The Jade Dragons run a strong side trade in stolen jewels and art, which the Ponzis fence for them.

He doesn’t know much more than that. Midnight asks him what Abel Sorelli is doing in San Francisco, but Eddie doesn’t know. Midnight jabs him roughly in the chest and tells him: “find out”. As Midnight is leaving Eddie asks him if the coat is “Bryans”. When he confirms Midnights description Midnight pulls the heroin packets out of the pocket, crushes them onto the pavement, and throws Eddie the coat before disappearing into the night.

[Vondy]

AAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!

It's the Black Dahlia, like the flower, not Delilah, like Shimshon's biblical foil.

[Tom McCarthy]

Shades of Cerebus/Cerberus !