Character Creation Chain

Roland Sinclair

Also known as The Keeper of the Dark Secrets, Roland made his millions in the early 2080s by developing the first SuperSynths used by bands such as The Killing Bloke and Durex Durex, lost his fortune in the 2090s on three-wheeler hovertrikes - the wheels were deemed superfluous since nobody ever bought one (by which logic, the engine became a bit unnecessary, too - and the chassis ...) - and made a further killing on the stock marked by investing in microskirt technology. He seems to know everything about everybody, though in truth he's just a very, very good guesser.

Roland lives in Suffolk with his wife, three children and a dog named Dog. But he only comes alive when the lights go out.

Hercule Moustache
 
Hercule Moustache;

 Named dafter the detective by parents he'd rather forget, Hercule decided to keep his distinctive first name when he changed his unpronounceable surname.

A quiet insurance salesman.

Gervaise Slim XXIII
 
Gervaise Slim XXIII

Some are invited in, some force their way, still others find a stealthy manner by which to become a clique-member. Gervaise, however, estimated his chances of acceptance as slim, even after twenty-three different and varied attempts to become One with the Many, and this is reflected in the log entry (under the headings Name, Chances, Number of Attempts) by Eldritch Elder Doff-Larque, who was himself both a born leader and a tired follower.

Sag Marketeer
 
Sag Marketeer.

Who is Sag Marketeer, where did he come from, what does he do that affords him the luxury of not having to work, yet live in the style he does.
Sag Marketeer holds parties on a massive scale and equally massive expense, yet no one at those parties really knows Sag or where he came from or how he made his money.
Sag is never seen during the day, giving rise to rumors that he is a vampire! But the truth is far more sinister. Only one person from Sag's past knows the truth.

Rodney Da Silva
 
Rodney Da Silva was born and grew up in Clapham. He fell in with a local gang when he was 11 and so began a career of minor crime. Unlike his bruvvas who adorned themselves with gold, Rodney was allergic to the metal and could only wear silver. Still he stood out and was soon known as
'Da Silva'.

One night Da Silva was dared to b&e a large house in the more upmarket area of town but little did he know the house was a front for a Satanic coven...

Ezekiel Saul
 
After a long, slow career in the army, Ezekiel Saul had come to enjoy power. Unfortunately for his friends and co-workers in his current job, however, Saul was not a person to whom leadership came naturally, he lacked the charisma to inspire and encourage. The result was erratic attempts of shifting intensity to get his way, to get noticed, to be recognized as the one in charge of every situation. He would attempt without being noticed, and then suddenly overreact with dangerous rage, for the rest of the day having alienated everyone around him and left only confusion behind. Sometimes he felt that the only one who understood him was...

Stormgull Brinewader
 
But Ezekiel was wrong. Stormgull Brinewader cared very little for him and was arguably the most irritating familiar ever to grace the planet. Ostensibly a large, talking sea-bird who latched on to Ezekiel during an undercover Norwegian military espionage operation to the mudbanks of the Frisian coastline, Stormgull had a wierdly over-inflated ego, an affected love of high culture and a smug, simpering voice that made everyone nearby want to put a .22 bullet in his head.

Stormgull was created after insane scientists managed to mix the DNA of a herring gull with that of Brian Sewell, the loathsomely self-satisfied London art critic. The idea was to create an evil race of sentient, flying super-weapons, who could cover the cities of enemies with tons of stinking bird lime whilst shrieking about how the works of L.S Lowry were nothing more than the tawdry daubs of a bedlam child. Enemy morale would be wrecked overnight and they would rush to surrender. Anything to prevent a further broadside of bird-lime and a learned exposition on why Philip Larkin was such an awful, dreary peasant who would have been happier gutting fish on Hull docks.

But Stormgull escaped from the high security labs by hiding in a bucket of foot-and-mouth that had been left out for the binmen.

And now Stormgull had resolved to make Ezekiel his pupppet. He would take Ezekiel's new-found power for his own. Who could stop him? No-one! Well. no-one apart from...

"Thatch" Redman
 
The only problem was that "Thatch" Redman had become possessed by a demon from the fifth layer of hell and as such was rooting for Stormgull to succeed. "Thatch" himself was stuck in a black place with no lights, no floor, no ceiling, and no walls. He couldn't move and only had his own thoughts for company so it looked like Stormgull would get his own way until the foot-and-mouth mutation he'd smuggled himself out in began to work its magic on him.

Jerry Pertwee
 
Jerry Pertwee

Possibly the nicest man in the world, Jerry has never been associated with either bad people or bad dealings. When he has money, he shares it. When he's happy, he brings smiles to the faces of all around him. When he dances, he dances with all his heart and soul. Jerry is, in short, exactly the type of person people never write about in books. God bless him.

Arkansas
 
Arkansas

Judging by the tourist publications, Arkansas is pretty much heaven on earth - think the Elysian Fields crossed with Valhalla, but with good road links to Missouri.

Too far east to be in the exciting but usually fatal tornado dust-bowls of Oklahoma and too far west to be in the redneck, moonshine-swilling KKK heartlands of Tennessee and Louisiana, Arkansas is a heady mix of Ozark Folk Music, great golf, miles of lush forests, craggy mountains and, for reasons that elude the casual observer, attractive young ladies with pigtails sporting foaming steins of lager in a pastiche of a Munich Bierkeller.

The capital of Arkansas is Little Rock. The State is landlocked and about as far from the sea as it is possible to get in the USA. In Britain, the furthest one can get from the sea is 70 miles. Worse still, you have to go to Coventry for the privilege. By contrast, Little Rock, Arkansas, is 3 million miles from the sea*. And, just like Coventry, there is no efficient inner ring road system to get you to Birmingham in a matter of minutes.

The population of Arkansas is 24.** The highest point in the State is Big Rock, Arkansas, which stands at a mighty eight miles above sea level.# Major exports of the State include lace, ear-wax, cats and T-shirts emblazoned with a picture of Bill Clinton and sporting the logo "my Mom went to Arkansas and all I got was a dubious fumble in the Oval Office."+

Right. I'm going to regret this, but fair's fair...

Cumbria


*Roughly
** Approximately
# Give or take a few miles
+ Allegedly
 
Well, since this is a CHARACTER creation chain, I'm going to go with...


Miss Cumbria, the most beautiful woman in the whole of, well, Cumbria, had many friends. Always popular, she was at the heart of all social affairs and parties. As she walked down the street, swishing her hair casually over her shoulder, she was admired by everyone. Yes, Miss Cumbria knew everybody envied her; after all, she was smart. No, she didn't have GCSEs, A-Levels, and all of that codswallop; in fact, she'd quit school at fifteen. But that didn't matter - she had looks and brains, she knew she did! Men always said she had "good assets", and Miss Cumbria liked to think her brains were her second best feature, beside her looks.

Her dark secret, though, was that she was once seen with the despicable Gigi "Giggles" Kasandra.
 
Gigi "Giggles" Kasandra

A woman of low reputation and even lower morals. Gigi's very existence threatened Miss Cumbria's social reputation.

Everyone knew Gigi. She was known by the local police and often on the front page of the local newspaper for her lewd behaviour in public. Dancing naked in the public fountain, swearing and cursing in shopping centres and the fact that she owned and operated the local bordello, who didn't know Gigi.
However only three people knew of Miss Cumbria's past dealings with Gigi, they were Gigi, Miss Cumbria and

Lily Langtree
 
Lily Langtree loved to perform. She lived for it. Or should I say he lived for it. During the day he was a high ranking civil servant and at night he shook off his grey image, donned a mini-skirt and boob tube and was transformed into Lily. It was how he encountered Miss Cumbria and Gigi and fell in love with the former. To his suprise she reciprocated and so began a complicated affair of the heart that soared his soul until he was shot dead by:

Bob
 
Bob

Harangued and vilified as the murderer of Lily Langtree by the furious Cumbrian local press, Bob always regretted that his side of the story was never told.

A sheepdog from Langdale, Bob was characterised by his wet nose, fluffy tail and slightly mad, staring eyes. First spotted by Lily barking furiously at tourists from the back of a battered Landrover Defender in Penrith, Bob and Lily won the regional finals of "One Transvestite and His (or Her) Dog".

But love went wrong one night in February when Gigi told Bob that Miss Cumbria and Lily had decamped to the plush surroundings of the Maryport Railway Hotel for a night of torrid love making. In a rage, Bob picked up a twelve bore shotgun, ran all the way to Maryport with the firearm clutched in his teeth, howled at the fire exit until the night porter let him in and then gave Lily both barrels at point blank range.

Bob went on the run. But Gigi emerged triumphant. With Lily off the scene and Bob unable to talk on account of the fact that he was a dog, there was nothing to stop Gigi convincing the distraught Miss Cumbria to join the elite Cumberland and Westmorland Lady Pole Dancers team, who were about to travel down to London for the national pole dancing finals. With Miss Cumbria's assets on the team, the £500 prize money was as good as won. Cackling, Gigi put in a call to

Tommy "Fingers" Morgan
 
I haven't done in this in ages, and since then, it seems to have taken on a more flowing characteristic.

Tommy "Fingers" Morgan

Our friend Tommy was a lanky, curious fellow who was always poking his nose into things he probably shouldn't be. While his cat-like curiosity was always getting him beat up, bitten, and chased by random weapon-bearing individuals, but at the same time, it was how he always managed to pick up so many of the goings-on around town.

When Tommy got the call from Gigi about eliminating her partner so she could claim all the prize money for herself, he grew furious, but knew he really had no choice but to comply. He owed her a few favors, and on top of that, Gigi's reputation was that of somebody you don't cross.

Her insatiable lust for carnage had to be stopped, or it would never end! He rushed into Gigi's private dressing room, aimed the gun intended for Miss Cumbria at Gigi instead, and was about to fire when she turned around. Mesmerized by the perky, essentially-glass cutters on her enormous, exposed breasts, Tommy's knees began to shake and the gun quickly fell from his hand. Enraged, Gigi struck Tommy across the back of the head with her abnormally heavy purse, dropping him to the ground. Before he could react, the jiggly-breasted "dancer" brought the blood-stained, steel heel of her hookerboot wrathfully down upon poor Tommy's hand.

"Oops, another one just bit the dust!" Gigi smiled sweetly as she spun around on the offending heel to look down at Tommy, adding to his injury and suffering. "Just two more stupid moves like that, Tommy, and I won't be able to call you 'Fingers' anymore, will I?"

Unbeknownst to Gigi, what she did was witnessed by...

Dick Dodson
 
Dick Dodson

Dick watched in horror as Gigi dealt with "Fingers" Morgan. He was lurking in the loft, watching events through the tiny hole he had drilled through the plaster above Gigi's dressing room. This wasn't what he had expected! Not from nice Miss Gigi! The woman he was one day going to marry! Once he had plucked up the courage to talk to her, of course.

Action was required. But perhaps not until Miss Gigi had finished getting changed. Oooh.

Action was required. Dick was a well-brought up lad with a pronounced sense of right and wrong. He knew very well that....crikey, what's she doing now?

Action was...Phwoaaar!!

Action was required. It was time to go and see

Dr Monck
 
I haven't done in this in ages
Click to expand...

It's like riding a bike!! Glad to have you back.

Dick took Dr Monck from his case and shoved his hand through his back and into his head.

"Trust me I'm a doctor," said Dr Monck.

"I do, I do," said Dick, "and I need your help."

Dr Monck was Dick's one and only true friend and confidant. He could and did tell him everything and knew that Dr Monck wouldn't pass it on. His secrets were safe within his wooden frame and what secrets they were. The tales Dr Monck could tell, the money he could bribe from Dick if only he could live, if only he could get to

Gabriel Tudor
 
Gabriel Tudor

If only the Master Crafter could breath life into these wooden limbs, make flesh and blood of this puppet body. Oh - the secrets to be told, the money extracted from that fool, Dick.

The trick of course, was to get to Master Gabriel's workshop in the first place. And the only person who was capable of convincing Dick to do that was

Richard Greatnuts
 
Richard Greatnuts

"Dick", said Richard, gently cupping the larger of his two great nuts and pretending not to notice Dick's admiring glances. "I think you should go and see Gabriel Tudor. He could get some life-blood into that appendage of yours."

"Thanks, Richard," said Dick.

"No problem. Always like to give my old Dick a helping hand when I can. And there's no-one like Gabriel for dealing with wood. Hands of an angel, or so they say."

"I'll get off straight away!" smiled Dick.

Just before Dick withdrew, Richard took hold of him.

"I know you've been staring at my great nuts. Why not pop one in your mouth? But watch out - they're salty!"

Dick caught the huge peanut and left the room. It was always nice to see Richard. He was such a nice fellow. Why did everyone think he was a screaming pervert?

Green Clancy
 
Green Clancy

Didn't think anyone was a pervert - but then, he felt he'd set a standard to which few could aspire to sink. Except, perhaps ...

Lagger the Blagger
 
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