Expatriate Irish Nationalist
Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 1
Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, Stamina 2
Social Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 3, Composure 2
Mental Skills: Academics (Literature) 3, Crafts 1, Occult 1, Politics 2
Physical Skills: Athletics 1, Brawl 2, Stealth 1
Social Skills: Empathy 2, Expression 2, Persuasion 1, Socialize 3, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 1
Merits: Resources 1, Striking Looks 2, Eidetic Memory 2, additional Merit dots pending roleplay
Disciplines: Majesty 2, Resilience 1
Covenant: Pending roleplay
Armor: Leather jacket and blue jeans (1/0)
Equipment: Laptop, Cell phone, pocketknife, bicycle
There’s a young man at the bar, looks a little under 30. Every now and then he looks attentively at a young woman down the bar. Long brown hair, well-built, girl-next-door attractive, with her friends who are wearing a bit too much makeup. That’s not what he’s looking at, though. He’s looking at her shirt, bearing a large Union Jack with the word “England” featured prominently. Her friends notice this attention and point him out to her. She looks over, but before he averts his gaze, she immediately recognizes the look in his eyes: not desire, but disdain.
The man is Niall Murphy, and he has been in this country for about three years. If you ask him about himself, he’ll probably mention that he was born in Belfast in 1982, the third child of four, moved to Glasgow when he was young, and came here to try to make it in the States for a spell. He might mention that he graduated from the University of Dundee with second-degree honors in Literature and Political Science. What he probably won’t mention is that the reason his family left Belfast was to flee the violence of the Troubles: his father had ties to Sinn Féin, and his mother and older sister were injured in the infamous Milltown Cemetery attack. The years he spent in the Parkhead neighborhood of Glasgow left him with a strong love for punk music and Celtic FC, and a deep resentment of the British government, who he saw as responsible for tearing his homeland away from him.
After arriving in the States, Niall tried his hand in the New York and Chicago punk scenes, neither of which got him very far. As his Chicago band was calling it quits, however, one of his bandmates mentioned that his brother’s independent bookshop had a new opening up in Milwaukee. Milwaukee seems like a cool enough city, why not check it out? So he made his way up north, got a job at the Woodland Pattern Bookstore on Locust, eventually got a night job bartending at Paddy’s Pub on Murray Ave, and started to settle down. His long-term sights were set on eventually moving back to the Isles, maybe trying to get involved in Sinn Féin for a career (a thought which made him a little uneasy, but which would have positively horrified his 19-year-old self). For the time being, he enjoyed the States, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he wanted to stay.
He got an answer to that question a mite sooner than he expected.
He doesn’t remember much, and what memories he does have are hazy, but after some strange compulsion to run, abandoning his friend to a fate straight out of a Stephen King book, and a strange conversation with a strange woman, he felt himself run his wrists with a razor and fall asleep.
Strangest of all, he woke up.