NPC Name: Donald MacPherson
Physical Description:
Age: 37
Role: Survivor
Psychic: N
Skills/Abilities of Note: Investigation, Tenacity, Self Defense, Local
Willpower: 7
Fear:
Background: Donald always had an ear for the rumor mill; a knack for sniffing out, and revealing the truth to whomever was interested. Private Investigation was a natural career choice, for him. It was suited to his skill set- you’d be surprised the information people make available when they think no-one is paying attention, how easily they’ll lead the way when they don’t know they’re being followed. Sure, people found him creepy, the way he’d just silently, effortlessly move about, occasionally surprising people, but, he just was the way he was.
Specializing in tailing people, discreetly, and disguise, his rather mundane jobs usually involved following, and surveiling, a given subject. Wives who needed ammunition for a divorce, Employers who suspect their workers were stealing, that kind of stuff, and an occasional missing person.
Then things got… Interesting.
He’d started getting more direct police involvement, in some areas, even having to travel. Apparently smaller police forces were finding themselves with their hands full, but refusing to form possies? They obviously wanted to project a sense of having things under control, but other departments, as well, like park services, fish and game, even department of livestock, all manner of groups that should have access to much better resources and people, were at a loss for other people to turn to.
After his Encounter, he closed his office, opened a website in it’s place, and took out a small loan to purchase a small camper- he had a feeling his work was going to have him traveling more, for the foreseeable future...
Previous Encounters: Y
Encounter Summary: He was taking a stroll down a small town main street; he’d just dropped off information for a job, collaborating with a bounty hunter (some idiot thought he could just skip town and miss his court date, over unpaid parking tickets, no less).
It was a dark and foggy night, in a town that called it a night, early, so being alone on the streets didn’t surprise or bother him. But, he began to get a feeling; he’d felt it, once before, in his life. In high school, he’d uncovered, and exposed, a ring of students who were selling test answers, stupid stuff. None-the-less, one of the football players (a beneficiary of this activity) thought it was worth revenge. Back then, he was just walking home, and he got this feeling, like a prickling at the back of his neck, and a strong sense of dread; like he was being watched, followed.
He was getting that same feeling, now.
He stopped when he started hearing slow, but heavy footsteps, somewhere behind him. Looking back, all he saw through the fog was the silhouette of a large man. The man was just… Standing there, now. He could see the mans’ shoulders rise and fall, like he was breathing hard, that same way someone seems to move when they’re very angry.
It wasn’t the ticket dodger; he was much bigger…
He called out to him, asked him directly, “Hey! Are you following me?” He didn’t answer. He just started slowly approaching him. Donald wisely decided he didn’t want this guy to catch up. He turned, and ran- he knew how to handle himself in a fight, but maybe this guy was drunk, but more importantly, he was an outsider; last thing he needed was assault charges from a local.
He sprinted to the local police department, where he informed them that a strange man was chasing him! The police didn’t question him further, just exchanged nervous glances, and that’s when he knew: This was not an isolated incident, and they were scared. They glanced to a wall, so he took a look as well, and saw a bulletin board. A bulletin board with missing persons’ fliers- LOTS of missing persons’ fliers. That’s when he knew, this was not the first time they’d heard about some prowler in the street, and that he had been lucky. Dumb lucky, that’s why he was still alive. He did not stay in town, after that night (and risk getting caught by that prowler?), but he did start looking into that town and it’s most recent history- he noticed an odd pattern- the disappearances and reports all came from the same part of town- on a whim, he compared it to local weather reports.
That fog was connected, somehow, it was perfectly consistent, and it was not an area known for such weather! Shortly after that, he was contacted by someone claiming to be a representative with Homeland security, at his apartment door. They said they just needed to rule out some concerns about a “troubling browser history and string of searches”, but this person was actually using there position to get in touch, and bring him into “The Department”! He learned what he could, and agreed to be more discreet, and work for them, when they called for his services.
He’d been wishing his job could be a little more interesting, and now, he realized why so many stories depicted such wishers as idiots.
Resources: Sidearm, Small Camper Truck, Portable Tape Recorder, Digital Camera
Odds of Survival: N/A
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