Here's something new. I'm joining a World of Darkness game where the premise is that we play WoD versions of ourselves, so I've chosen to make a changeling...and here he is (name changed to protect the innocent :P)
The Ten-Minute Background of Aaron BremenBackground:
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1) I wanted to be a storyteller. When I was a kid, I was that kind of nerd who would live in books and create worlds in my head filled with fantastic creatures and imaginary friends, mostly because I didn't have too many real ones. Thanks to being socially awkward and strange (thank you, ADHD) I had trouble fitting in. I had no close friends growing up, and I often got teased. So I read. I liked reading. And reading eventually lead me to want to learn how to write. I began wanting to turn the characters I created with me few friends into story characters. I drew a lot (not well, just profusely), creating tales and elaborate backstories for characters my few friends and I created. It's no surprise then, that, in high school, once I was exposed to Roleplaying Games I was hooked. however, this was also the time that I began to seriously study English and writing, because I just wanted to get better at telling tales.
2) Eventually, I graduated. I had good grades in High School, but some of that was learning how to take and succeed at high school courses rather than actually learning material, so College was a bit more difficult. It wasn't as easy to breeze through those classes, because my high school classes were set up so I could learn how to pass standardized tests and learn material by rote. I drifted for a bit, doing typical nerd stuff for a while, and living at home while I went through school. I took various summer jobs to get my feet wet in the workplace, but I never found a job I really liked. I knew I wanted an English major, but I didn't know what the hell I wanted to do with it. And so the years passed, and I came closer to completing my AA, with plans to transfer the degree to a University.
3) It was the tail end of 2003. I had finally finished all my classes and I was considering what to do with the rest of my life. I had finally received my diploma, and I was considering transferring to another school to continue my education. I was at the local library...I don't remember now what it was I was doing. Using the internet? Doing some free writing? Tracking down a book? It's all tangled...but I remember clearly hearing a voice asking me, "Do you like to tell stories," and turning to see a horrible floating scarecrow-man behind me, clutching a candle, a long rope behind him filled with writhing figures. I was startled, certainly...I think I screamed, but nothing came out. I remember rope being tied around me, and the ghoul chuckling something like "I know someone who will appreciate your talents," and then a terrifying sensation, like being pulled through a tearing, thorny hedge like the brushes in the Prescott national forest. The scarecrow with the candle hauled us through the forest with immense strength. It felt like the thorns were tearing not only my skin, but my soul as well...it's a hard sensation to describe. Then we came to a bizarre nightmare land, and as my captor moved through this place, he sold off the people he had tied up to the lords of the realms we passed through...or that's what it seemed like to me, at any rate. It's hard to remember, the memories are all kind of fuzzy. But I remember us eventually coming to a tower filled with stacks of books piled high, and my captor making some deal with the horrible old gnome-thing that ran the place, and pointing to me...and this was how I came into the service of Old Man Vellum.
4) I don't remember a whole lot clearly about my time in the service of that horrible old gnome-man--it's like a half-remembered nightmare, though one that went on for years. I was one of several librarians forced to gather tomes for him to read. Old Man Vellum is obsessed with human knowledge, you see. He thinks it gives him insight into the human condition. It doesn't. He wasn't cruel, like most other Keepers I've heard about, but he certainly didn't lack for coldness. The only times I saw him animated were when he acquired a particularly interesting new tome. The only time I saw him enraged was if any of his servants began to hum or sing to break the silence in his presence, which is when he'd demand to have the wayward beaten. Since I have a habit of breaking out into song or humming a few bars whenever I'm board, I was a frequent target of such attacks. We were tasked to keep the library tidy, and this was a challenge because many of the books had been there so long that they'd come to life. and would fight terribly to be free. My main duty was to keep a ledger of the books that came in, but naturally Old Man Vellum didn't provide me with any pens or ink. Instead, he took a knife to my fingertips, cut away the flesh, and sharpened the bone into quill tips, then forced me to use my own blood for ink. Once, I tried to buy my freedom by writing a book especially for him, but he read it and then ate it without any comment. So then I dreamed of escape.
4) My memories are really hazy here. I remember bit of it...coming across the Kitab-i-aqdas, the holy book of the Baha'i Faith, presenting it to Old Man Vellum, and seeing him moved to such a rage as I'd never seen before...Then I was running, running through the forest around the tower...trying to picture home, trying to keep a clear image of Thumb Butte in my mind as I tore my way through the sage and alligator juniper and tearing Thorns...baying, like hounds...a clear image of something following me...and then finally staring out at Prescott from the top of Thumb Butte, and knowing I had made it home. I think (think, mind you...I don't know for sure) that Old Man Vellum had fired me for handing him that holy book, and told me to go away or be killed. At the time, it really didn't matter to me. I was home, after two years of toil in a psychotic library. But that wasn't the end of it. Oh, no. There was still more to come.
5) I thought I'd been in Old Man Vellum's tower for only two years, but I quickly learned it was now 2008. A lot changes in 5 years. I found out my dad had shaved off his mustache, that my sister had has a kid...and that I hadn't been missed, because something had taken my place. I say thing because that's what other Changelings have told me it is--a faerie creation of random junk mixed together and given life with a piece of my shadow, that looks and acts just like I would have. A fetch. But damn me if he doesn't act just like I would, look like I might look (if I were a hundred and fifty pounds heavier--he's rather let himself go) and, worst of all, he lives my life as if he were the one born to it. Sure, he's not as successful as I would have liked to have been, but I can't say I wouldn't have turned out just like him. And there's that little bit of niggling doubt...what if HE's the real me, and I'm just the shadow puppet? It's not a comforting thought.
6) So, finding out that I had no life to go back to was a blow. I could have stayed in Prescott, confronted the fetch, found out which of us was the real person, tried to get my life there back...but I was afraid to face that, and I just wanted to get away. He seemed to be doing just fine, anyway. Luckily, I met others like me. They, too, had been snatched away from their lives and returned to find something in their place, and they sympathized. One of them helped me get in touch with some changelings in Boston who could help me make a new life for myself, as long as I swore fealty to something called "The Autumn Court," and, not having any better options, I agreed. they paid for my bus ticket and gave me just enough cash to get a new life started, and I was on my way.
7) Boston is a greatly unsettling change for me. I'm used to heat, deserts, and small-town life. Boston is cold, damp, and crowded. I met with the Autumn King, an old man who others call The Librarian, who helped set me up with a new identity that's good enough to get me back into school, so I'm taking a communications degree through the University of Massachusetts Boston. I swore an oath to provide my skills in service for the Freehold, which mostly means writing a lot of newsletters for the Autumn King (I'm not high in the changeling hierarchy), though he's asked me to do other tasks for him. I'm studying magic as much as my other studies, because magic has always fascinated me, and because the more I know about faerie powers, the better position I'm in to oppose the works of the Gentry who stole me in the first place. Because my tale isn't an isolated one. The Gentry have stolen thousands of people like they stole me, and only we are aware of the grave danger they pose to everyone. The Gentry took us into faerie and molded us with their powers, and we still have those powers when we escape. They gave us the tools to defeat them...they just don't realize it yet.
Goals:
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1) I'd like Aaron to learn more magic, eventually...that's mostly what I'm concentrating on. I'm especially interested in learning and dealing with dream magic, which has always fascinated me.
2) I'm not very interested in dealing with the Fetch at the moment, though that may be something to deal with much later in the game. Candle Jack, on the other hand...I'd love to deal with Candle Jack (see Friends and Enemies)
Secrets:
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1) I met my sister before I left Prescott, which is how I learned most of what I'd missed for the last five years. I didn't show her my true form, and I don't think she believed it was really me, but she knows that I exist. She was the only member of my family I told that I was back, and she was the only one who knew I was headed to Boston. I asked her not to mention me to my Fetch...I don't want it coming after me.
2) What Aaron doesn't know is that the Fetch discovered he had come back anyway, because of the mystical link it shares with him. It doesn't know for sure what's troubling it, but it knows that he might be a threat later. It doesn't know what to do, but may find out. Who knows what would happen if the Fetch were to discover what it really is.
3) Reserved for the DM
Friends and Enemies:
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1) The Autumn King of Boston, a Darkling Antiquarian known as The Librarian (or Captain Picard, depending on who you're asking--he looks and sounds a lot like Patrick Stewart, if Patrick Stewart had a long pointed nose and wedge-shaped gobliny ears), spent forty years during the 80's (time move weirdly in faerie) in the tower of Old Man Vellum, my own keeper. He either sees a kindred spirit in me, or sees me as a possible spy that he wants to keep tabs on (I'm not sure which), so he helps me out quite a bit. Of course, he makes it well known that he expects me to pay for his assistance with service, but so far that payment has been light. He's asked me to look into some rumors that mortal wizards lurk about here in Boston, because he wants to know if they're a threat to us or a possibly ally against the Gentry.
2) I've managed to gather a few friends together. We play D&D on the weekends, usually with me DMing. I take the time to draw Glamour from this weekly meeting.
3) I've learned a lot about the figure who took me. They call him Candle Jack, probably because he resembles the Freakazoid villain and has a similar MO. The rumor is that he can only take you if you say his True Name (Candle Jack obviously isn't his TRUE name, but saying it too often might draw his attention anyway). He's apparently very busy, because he's been seen all over the United States. Accounts differ as to whether he's a True Fae or a Changeling that turned traitor to his own kind, but I'll find him again. And when I do, I've got a nice iron sword I bought at a Ren Faire for his ass.
Memories:
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1) One of my clearest memories from my time in Old Man Vellum's tower was writing a book. I had hoped to write a book for him, to present it for him as a bargaining chip to win my freedom. I slaved over that book, sneaking away pages to write on, using my own blood for ink, putting down some of my most innovative story ideas...it took me the better part of a year to write. And then I presented it to him, hoping he'd be so thrilled with what I'd created he'd let me go. He read it...and, then, with out a word, began to EAT it. I'd seen him do this before, with other books I know he'd enjoyed, but it was heartbreaking watching him scarf down those pages I'd worked so hard on. And worse, he didn't even SAY anything about it afterward. He barely acknowledged that it had existed at all. I've never been able to recreate the stuff I wrote in that book, either...the ideas are just gone. And oh, I hate him for that.
2)The memories that brought me back to Earth are the times I spent with my father climbing up Thumb Butte, this distinctive granite hill that juts out over Prescott. I just kept picturing the Butte against the sky...and wound up on top of it, crawling out from beneath one of the benches at the top of the trail.
3) I remember Candle Jack taking me...and that's all that needs to be said about that, really.
Appearance:
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Human Mask: People are often surprised at how tall I actually am when I stand, because I often hunch over. I am broad-shouldered and was growing a bit pudgy before my Durance, but being half-starved for months on end there cured me of that, though I have a lot of red lines over my body (particularly my arms) that look vaguely like stretchmarks or scars. I have sandy brown hair, a goatee, and my face is fairly gnome-like, with high cheekbones and a rounded nose. I wear glasses, but I still squint a lot. When people can actually see my eyes, they tell me its a different color every time--I've been told it's various shades of brown, gray, or green. My fingers are long and very thin around the tips, which have increasingly long nails that never get smaller, no matter how much I chew them down (it's a nervous habit. Sue me).
Changeling Mien: Once people look past the mask, the gnomishness and hunched-overness grow more pronounced. The red scars on my body form actual letters and words, though rarely in any language I recognize. They subtly shift, too. My fingers don't have nails...I had to sharpen the bones to write, so my fingertips are actually fleshless and shaped like quill nibs (I have to be careful when I scratch myself). Since joining the Autumn Court, I've noticed that my eyes actually seem to gleam or sparkle in low light, and I often find a glowing candle around, even in places I know I didn't light one.
Design Notes
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I've loved Changeling: The Lost since I picked it up, but I've never gotten to play a lost character before, so when an acquaintance decided to start a WoD crossover game, I was thrilled. His provisos were that we would be playing ourselves as supernaturals, and that lead to a bit of a strange disconnect for me, but ultimately basing a character off myself seemed to be fun.
Of course, Aaron here is not entirely like me, because Changeling is about being abducted into a strange world and I had to chose a point where my actual life diverged from his. Of course, I made me as I currently am this character's Fetch (a magical construct built by the True Fae to replace a stolen person). It's a weird, surreal feeling to look at myself through the eyes of someone who is and is not me, and ask "What could I have become, if I'd made different choices?"
