No Really, We're Sheep
Thoma Delacey Lisborn IV
Click here to read Thoma’s Journal.
Name: Thoma DeLacey Lisborn IV
Pack Name: N/A
Pack Totem: N/A
Chronicle: No, Really, We’re Sheep.
Tribe: Silver Fang
Concept: Trust-Fund Malcontent
Linguistics-2 (Spanish and German)
Backgrounds (3 Freebie Points Used)
Lambent Flame (Costs 1 willpower. Glare illuminates 100-foot diameter. Any hand-to-hand attacks take +1 penalty, missile attacks take – 1 difficulty bonus)
Smell of Man (All wile animals lose 1 die from dice pools when within 20 feet of Thoma. They are likely to flee. All domesticated animals recognize as friend and refuse to harm. No cost to activate/turnoff)
Falcon’s Grasp-(Spend 1 point of Rage, for remainder of scene, hands and/or jaws [for 2 rage, both] are 3 points of Strength stronger. Strength may not be used to inflict damage)
Gnosis 2 (2 Freebie Points Used)
Merits/Flaws(10 Freebie Points Used)
Common Sense (1 Point Merit)
Concentration (1 Point Merit)
Double Jointed (1 Point Merit)
Lucky (4 Point Merit) (3x/story may reattempt a botched roll. 2nd roll always counts)
Jack of All Trades (3 Point Merit) Does not suffer 1-dice penalty when rolling for Skills with no ranks. May attempt rolls on Knowledges with no ranks is difficulty is raised by 2 dice)
Thoma’s earliest memory was of voices screaming his name. He’d wandered off and was going to be in trouble when he was found. But, Thoma had wanted to be up high, wanted to feel the wind in his tow-colored hair. There was a hill, ringed at the base by trees, but bare on top, and he wanted to be there, just at dawn, as the wind tore tears from his eyes, streaking back into his hair. From up here, Thoma felt like he could fly. He spread his little hands and lifted them against the wind, as if to grab on to it and let it take him away.
Then Miss Reynolds grabbed him up under the armpits and lifted him. Before she could turn him in her arms to yell, Thoma thought he had actually did it, that he was flying. Whatever recriminations she had intended for him died as he laughed when she lifted him up. In spite of herself, she laughed too, and scoldings were forgotten, for the moment.
The hill was officially called “Caern’s Hill” by the family, but to those who were actively involved in Thoma’s life, his governness, the butler and the tutors, it was ’Thoma’s Hill’ because if he was ever to be missing from lessons or bed, that was where he could be found, eyes peeled open into the wind, hands spread, wishing that he could fly again.
But one day he woke to find this things packed. He was told he was being sent to Maryland, to West Nottingham Academy. He was moved into Rowland Hall, where he would live for the duration, and before he’d even realized it was time to say goodbye, he was alone.There were lots of hills here, but none of them made Thoma cry. The wind here didn’t try to pick him up and make him fly. Thoma would always yearn for that one moment when he was a child, that one instant when he thought he’d done it. All he ever wanted was to fly.