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Wei The Angel Eventually you just learn to keep your distance. Physically, sure, you've got to keep away from things out here. But, emotionally, mentally, you need distance as well. I've felt too many people slip straight through my fingers, seen too many lights flicker and fade in faces burnt by sun and caked in dust. There's no place in this world for emotions anymore. My hands and my thoughts are steady. Cool. Calm. Collected. I'm here to serve one function: keep some bastards alive who will in turn keep me alive. That's all. quote:Tell me how close you’ve gotten to a Destroyer quote:Tell me about the person/place/thing that makes you feel safe pre:The Angel Name: Wei Stats: Cool+1, Hard=0, Hot+1, Sharp+2, Weird-1 Look: Woman, scrounge wear plus utility, rugged face, caring eyes, rangy body Gear: Angel kit, Painkiller (9mm 2 harm loud), oddments worth 2 barter, leather jacket (1-armor) Moves: All basic moves + Healing Touch: when you put your hands skin-to-skin on a wounded person and open your brain to them, roll+weird. On a 10+, heal 1 segment. On a 7–9, heal 1 segment, but you’re acting under fire from your patient’s brain. On a miss: first, you don’t heal them. Second, you’ve opened both your brain and theirs to the world’s psychic maelstrom, without protection or preparation. For you, and for your patient if your patient’s a fellow player’s character, treat it as though you’ve made that move and missed the roll. For NPC patients, their experience and fate is up to the MC. Professional Compassion: you can roll+sharp instead of roll+Hx when you help someone who’s rolling. Hx: TBD Count Thrashula fucked around with this message at 15:53 on Nov 30, 2017 |
# ¿ Nov 30, 2017 15:49 |
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# ¿ Apr 19, 2024 00:12 |
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PoultryGeist posted:Wei the Angel A lot of trial, even more error. Some on myself, some on others. In a world like this, it's helpful to know how many mils of morphine it takes to dull the senses, and how many it takes to outright forget where you are. As for stitchin' folks up, there's not too much difference between patching up a leather jacket, and patching up a person. As long as you can block out their screams and work steady, it's drat near the same. A few weeks back, I was squatting with some folks who had enough food to share - assuming everybody brought something useful to the table, obviously. But... some people are more interested in filling their bellies full to bursting than helping out the group. This small guy, Harris, got caught burying sacks of food by a guy named Hammer. Real wild fella from over the hills, leads a pack of salvagers. poo poo, I could have sworn Harris' number was up, but I didn't know about the heat he carried. Nobody did. Next thing anybody knew, there was a loud crack, and drat near half of Hammer's face was gone. It took most of my supplies, and a few sleepless nights, but he lived. He'll never smile again - not that he did much before - but he's alive. Anyway, the food ran out and we all had to be on our way, and then a dust storm separated most of us. I wonder sometimes how Hammer's doing. Not out of concern, I just want to know how my work turned out. Count Thrashula fucked around with this message at 16:53 on Dec 1, 2017 |
# ¿ Dec 1, 2017 16:10 |