Backstory Friday: Dave

February 13th, 2009 No Comments

What is Backstory Friday? Every Friday there will be a new article showcasing the backstory of characters past and present. Characters range from various settings, systems, players, and writing styles. The whole point is to share our creative works, and potentially the creative works of our listeners. Perhaps one of these characters will inspire other Players or Gamemasters, but primarily they are for entertainment. Enjoy.
Who all can submit backstories? Anyone! Listeners, Fans, Hosts,  YOU! Just shoot any off to
Who is this character? Dave was a short-lived Scion character and child of Baron Samedi. This was another experiment in writing style by Rob. Everything is written from the perspective of other people and chronicles Dave’s life. He was a fan of how it turned out, but for some reason hasn’t written another backstory like it since. It must have just been to much work.

Dave in the style of Rant
I try to make it a point to pop down to New Orleans from time to time and I guess this story starts down there. I remember the night, it was a Saturday and I was in my element. I can’t remember the date but it was somewhere in February… maybe March. Guess it doesn’t much matter now. The point is that was when I met her, she was wearing this black and purple outfit that screamed my own name. Swallowtail coat over a silk vest and slacks, crowned with a big black silk top hat she was practically begging for my attention. Even the platform boots seemed fitting and it wasn’t only a few honeyed words before her and I end up alone in her room. I disappeared in the morning and didn’t think any more about it, its not like she wasn’t one of hundreds that weekend.

My girlfriends and I went to Mardi Gras back in ’86 and had a blast! No one carded us and I got wasted two years before I should have, HA! Anyway, that’s when I met the father of little Damien. He was a striking figure, standing a little over six feet and build thick like a sexy black man should be. We were nearly dressed the same, except where I had purples he had grays and his looked real where mine were just store bought. We both had swallowtail coats, silk vests and trousers and bitchin top hats. He rolled off some really smooth lines and I prolly would have slept with him even without them. I wasn’t really surprised that he wasn’t around in the morning and I didn’t really didn’t care until a couple months later.

She went off the Marti Gras and came home a sixteen year old unwed mother! I could have strangled that girl, but we did like any good family would do and she had her baby. Her father and I tried to talk her into giving the poor boy a normal name but she stuck fast to her conviction that her baby would be “gothic” and “mysterious” but I still think she made a big mistake there. We raised him more like our own son then grandson and we kept him when Shelly went off to collage. We insisted that she got an education after all. Oh, don’t think the boy didn’t know who his mom was. We kept it very clear that we were the grandparents and that his dad would never be around.

On November 5th 1986, my baby was born. I named him Damien Vlad Ravensblood much to my parent’s ire. But I wasn’t about to give him the last name of Wellington, we sound like some kinda steaks or something. He was a great kid growing up, but a little wild. He started a fire in his preschool and stood under the fire sprinklers with his arms stretched out. Hehe, he was always doing things like that for attention. He was such a cute kid with his little cute curly hair and mischievous smile. Of course, I owe a lot to my parent’s too. They kept the little guy when I went off to be a funeral director and even helped out when I was apprenticing for it. I even got a degree in mortuary science so I could embalm. Then when I was twenty-five I moved out to Miami to take charge of a funeral home out there.

We hired Shelly Westington and she took over the Crestwood Mortuary sometime in ’95 and she brought that cute little boy of her’s with her. Now, normally we’re not to keen on having nine-year olds running around the home here but he stayed out of trouble as long as we answered his questions. The kid was even pretty sharp and we even started apprenticing him when he was only fourteen. Of course things got messy when he dropped out of school and started running with that bad crowd. Then there was his biological dad showing up again…

When I heard I had a son with the little white girl I was shocked. Not really surprised because with how I sleep around and all. Anyway, I didn’t want a son and I was busy with Brigitte anyway so I guess I kinda threw the kid on my backburner. When he was nine I heard he was in Miami so I figured I’d go hit the beach and check the little sucker out. I sure as hell wasn’t gonna go see him when he was living in Nebraska. Anway, I saw the little brat and he looked nothing like me! Plus his mom gave his a horrible name and I just didn’t want to get involved with that mess. So, I hit the beaches and returned to Guinee. I was just happy to wash my hands with my failed abortion of a child.

Dave wasn’t ever a bright student, but he was a popular one. That seemed to get him passed in most classes, but not mine. I prided myself on my class’s education and I wasn’t about to let him slip through the cracks of the less the perfect public education system. I wonder now if it was my pressure to push himself or the intervention and departure of the Asian fellow that ended up sealing Dave’s educational fate. Dave and Ty where quite close and when Ty was kicked out of school it wasn’t long before Dave stopped attendance. Hellions those two where, I remember one time they smashed all the urinals in the boy’s room. I never did understand their humor…

It was after he left school that I took notice of the boy. I figure, if the Baron won’t have him maybe I should…

Damien dropped out when he was sixteen and started working with me at the Funeral Home. My son was a bright boy when it came to the mortuary arts and I was pleased to see him succeed at something. Everything was going fine until a man claiming to be the boy’s grandfather showed up. He wanted to tell Damien about his Dad’s side of the family and I wasn’t in much of a position to argue. The old man introduced himself as Lazarus and sat with me and Damien for a few nights a week. Lazarus had the oddest laugh, jolly but somehow mocking. Anyway, after visiting with us for about a month Lazarus convinced me to let him take Damien back to his family’s home in South Carolina. Since Damien was keen to go and Lazarus seemed nice enough, I let him go. Sometime I wonder if I made a huge mistake…

Baron came to me and told me of his new kin. He told me to give him an impossible task so the boy wouldn’t be a blemish on his name. So I gathered my cunning and paid a visit to the boy. His mother was definitely of the Baron’s tastes and I didn’t see why he turned his back on his boy. Over the course of months that I convinced his mother to let me spirit the boy away, which is when I brought him to Guinee in hopes he would die during his trial.

No one knows how it started, something about Earl’s chicken being really Enoak’s or something. Family sacrifices are a big deal down here and all but I’ve never seen anything spiral this badly out of control. Tens or twenties of us must have been destroyed before Papa Skeleton sent his boy in to settle matters. What a sight that was! Hahaha! The boy walks in with Legba, Legba points at the crowed of riotous loa and then leaves. The boy climbs onto an alter, Jimma’s I believe, and throws his hands in the air. He bellows for all us spirits to behave and to stop this rioting. Everything stopped for seconds, it was eerie to watch as hundreds of ghosts turned to face this intruder. Everyone just stared at the boy and then the full force of the riot fell on him.

I went back to get the boy’s corpse, only to find the riot over with and him lying battered and beaten under a poplar tree. He was still alive and it looked like he stopped the riot. I nursed him back to health and coaxed his story from him. He said he just laid there and took a beating for five nights and six days. On the sixth day, a Saturday it turns out, the riots stopped. Burned themselves out like a candle he said. Well, task complete I called over Baron to give the boy a birthright. Baron wasn’t to right happy but he obliged.

Legba calls me up and tells me that my bastard lived through a loa riot. I was blasted away by Legba’s inability to stage a proper demise for an unwanted scion. Anyway, test passed I had to do my fatherly duty and present my child (no matter how ill begotten) with a token of my domain. I showed up at Legba’s shack and the broken face of my offspring smiled up at me from what was almost his death bed. I half smiled, said “I’m your father” before I took of my sunglasses and threw them on his chest. I spat on the floor near his bed, turned about and left. Stupid brat should been dead.

When Shelly’s son came back and he was changed. More confidante and almost obsessed with voodun lore. He left out mortuary only months after his return and ran off with some drug addled new friends of his. I was sad to see him go, its not every day you meet a sixteen year old boy who acted like embalming fluid ran in his veins. Haha, that’s a little embalmer joke there. Sorry if it was in poor taste. Anyway, the boy had a car by then and I always notices a sunglasses case rolling around in the back seat. I don’t know why that struck me as odd but I’ll never forget that little black case.

Damien left on his seventeenth birthday and started squatting in an old apartment complex with some friends of his. He didn’t want anything to do with his mom anymore and it broke my heart. I gave birth to the boy and he forsakes me because his dad’s some important lawyer in Charleston. I didn’t hear much from him over the next year but I had the strangest feeling he was up to no good. Those new friends he had, they all had blank expressions like they were always stoned or something. I only saw him one more time before he left for Atlanta.

After the boy left his mother he discovered his legacy on a bright day. I am not Legba, but I am still interested.

Yeah, I used to squat in the same building as Dave did. Nice guy, lots of friends around. He would tell the craziest stories when we were drinking. He was pretty wasted one night when he told me this whopper. Now mind you, wasted for Dave is dead for the rest of us, the guy can throw back his booze like its water. Anyway, you prolly wanna hear his story and not his benders. Ok, I’ll indulge you. Dave said he was driving home after work one morning and the sun was right at that place where you’re almost blinded by it. He said he remember that his dad gave him some shades and he pulled over and fished them out of his backseat. He had just put them on and when to pull back into traffic when he looked over in his passenger’s seat and saw a dead guy sitting next to him! How trippy is that! So he rips off his shades to get a better look at this ghouly and the guy just vanishes. He slides the shades back on and bingo, dead guy riding shotgun. Dave said he was freaked out but not really, like he kinda expected it but its still freaky when the guy next to you is bleeding from his neck.

I waited in that bastard’s car for weeks after I heard who his Dad was. The bugger constantly looked around but never noticed me until the day he put on his sunglasses. He saw me, calmly pulled them off, put them on, pulled them off, over and over before looking at me and saying, “Well, I’ll be fucked. Whats up?” I might have said some harsh words but since I was looking for help I tried to be nice.

So Dave sees this ghosty and the ghost starts screaming at him about not paying attention and about divine heritages or some shit. Then he tells Dave that he needs his help. I guess this guy was murdered but his killer staged it like a suicide or some shit. He couldn’t rest until Dave set things straight. Anyway, it sounds like something out of a movie but Dave told me about how he tracked down the guys killer. Since Dave couldn’t figure out how to prove the murder, he just extracted the ghost’s revenge and killed the killer. Pretty wild right? I would tell the cops but its likely a load of horse crap.

Dave did a good job tracking down my killer and then putting him thought he same torment I went through. He staged it so it looked like a suicide and even planted a note confessing to my murder. I felt avenged and moved on. If you ever find yourself near him, just pop in and ask for a favor. I’ve been thinking about seeing if he’ll off my wife so she’ll be here with me.

Dave, yeah I was his mechanic when he first got a car. His last one here in Miami broke down about a week before he left. The head cracked and I had it scrapped for him. He had ran into his old high school buddy and the two of them were running roughshod around the strip. I miss the guy, lots of fun to party with.

I’ve ran the Sand Bar here in Miami for eight years before those two little fuckers ended up costing me a grand. I’ll never forget that night. They were sitting at the bar throwing back drinks like it was their last day on earth. I was about to tell the bartender to cut them off when the one with the top hat stood up on his barstool. He yelled out, “Everyone look at me!” and while every god damn person in my bar stared blindly at him, his Jap buddy walked over to the register and dumped it in a bag. The little son of a bitch even stole the tip jar! I yelled at him and the top hat kid looked over at me in a panic. The two bolted out of my bar and I chased after them. They jumped in a car and drove off, that was the last I ever saw of them. Of course I was the only one who saw what happened and my boss thought I was the one who robbed the place.

I saw them run out of a club, so I pulled some strings to arrange for them to steal my son’s car. They were just outside of Miami before the noticed him moving around in the back seat. Baron’s kid freaked out and swerved off the road. Susano-o’s son went to grab the cat and that’s when they noticed my son in the back. There was some amusing dialog exchanged before they decided it was fated for them to work together. Having seen my son into the protection of two other scions, I went to deal with other matters.

That stupid boy of mine, just ditched his five zombies in the middle of Miami as he runs out of town. Guess who has to clean up things like that? Me. That’s who. Oh yeah its all fair and good to brainwash some people and remove their souls, but when five soulless bodies are wandering aimlessly around Miami SOMEONE has to deal with it. Oh, Baron, your son’s unleashed a hoard of flesh hungry undead so can you go take care of that for us? Oh that little bastard. I swore that I would teach him not to meddle with the dead like that. HA HA HA HA!

Leave a Reply