Richmond

H E A D L I N E S

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  "Leopards break into the temple and drink to the dregs what is in
  the sacrificial pitchers; this is repeated over and over again; finally
  it can be calculated in advance, and it becomes a part of the ceremony."

  —Franz Kafka

  
  
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  NAME: Richmond Palaver. AGE: 28 years. DOB: 14 May 1986. ORIGIN: Las Vegas, Nevada. NATIONALITY: American. Ethnically, he's a mongrel of European descent. OCCUPATION: Adventurer and journalist. Considered a hack and a crackpot by most of his contemporaries, he's a harvester of overlooked stories. A writer, traveler and bullshit-artist. FORMERLY: Throughout most of his adolescence, he was a low-rent hustler and con artist; after college, he briefly wrote greeting cards for Things Remembered, LLC. Since then he's been a copywriter, junior editor, and foreign correspondent in various milieus. AFFILIATIONS: The New Versailles Daily Mirror; The National Tattler; Strangway's Monthly SOCIAL STATUS: Social mobility has deeply entrenched him in the middle class. This is a big step up from his youth. MARITAL STATUS: Perpetually single. RELIGION: Raised to worship the almighty dollar and to consider God as a fabrication of the flyover states—the devotion to whom designated tourists as easy marks. These days, he's not so sure.

  SPECIES: Human; mortal. GENDER: Male. HEIGHT: 6'0" WEIGHT: 185 lbs. HAIR: A sandy russet that lightens in the sun. EYES: The deep brown of burnt coffee. COMPLEXION: Medium-tan owing to a lot of time outdoors. BUILD: Average tending towards athletic; he was in better shape when he was younger. HANDEDNESS: Right. FEATURES: Handsome in a forgettable way—his average looks are punched up by a big personality. He's clean shaven, with good teeth and an expressive face.

  NATURE: Bon Vivant. DEMEANOR: Jester. ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good. ORIENTATION: Heterosexual. MERITS: Well-read and widely-traveled with experience under his belt, characterized by his conviction and a willingness to see things through. He has electric charm, caustic wit, and a high tolerance for defeat. LIABILITIES: He's been awakened to the existence of the supernatural, broiling just below the surface of the workaday world; while this allows him to see things that most mortals would overlook, it also places him in precarious positions. INTELLIGENCE: Above average, but not always put to good use. EDUCATION: After graduating from Clark County Community College, he attained a Bachelor's in Arts (Journalism) from California State University, Northridge. VICES: He's a garden variety hedonist: he drinks, smokes and occasionally uses recreational drugs. LIKES: The strange and unexplained; literature; greasy-spoon diners; black coffee; gambling. DISLIKES: The idea of a nine-to-five job; most people; limitations; the obstruction of truth; his debts; painkillers.

  
  
  
  

  "I think we’re yearning for something beyond the every day. And I will tell you that I don’t
  believe in the supernatural, I believe in the supernormal. To me there is nothing that goes against nature.
  If it seems incomprehensible, it’s because we haven’t been able to understand it yet."

  —Richard Matheson

  
  
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  DESCRIPTORS:
  
  THE DRIVE: In his youth, Richmond, like most children, had what other people might call imaginary friends. In his adolescence the voices coalesced into visions—apparitions which no amount of counseling or prescribed medication could silence. When he was just shy of his sixteenth birthday, they stopped altogether; abruptly, without even saying goodbye, they were out of his life—until he was twenty-two and happened to run into one of them at a bar in Pasadena. Her name was Jenny, and though she'd been dead for eighty-six years, she was very real. Since his awakening to the existence of the supernatural, Richmond has adopted an objective view of them: exploring, investigating and reporting the unwelcome truth. It hasn't won him many friends, but someone has to look out for mankind. The neighborhood's a lot more crowded than anyone ever imagined.
  
  AT A GLANCE: He is ordinary, and yet arresting in some way; his manner is inexplicably disarming, with a face that persuades and a smile that cuts. There is a careless quality to him, as though the world is some private joke and he knows the punchline: just a clown, an unrepentant hustler who deals in artifice and aspirations.
  
  ATTIRE: His personal style (read: lack thereof) fits in somewhere between everyman and throwback-chic. He's a real fashion recidivist, a burgeoning star in the field of nostalgic emulation—wide-lapels, slender neckties, bomber jackets. If he isn't in a crumpled suit, he's in jeans and a button-down shirt, t-shirt or sweater.
  
  SCENT: Contrary to his erratic behavior and childish attitude, the smells of soap, shampoo and freshly-laundered clothes all indicate a fastidious regimen of hygiene and personal grooming. There's often the light tobacco tang of an exclusively outdoor smoker about him, along with traces of whatever he's been drinking—sometimes coffee, but more often hard liquor. He wears cologne, but prefers subtle, old world scents like Guerlain's Impériale.
  
  ASSETS: In short, not much. He makes his way in the world, but he's not exactly successful—at least, not in the ways that matter to most people. He was more financially solvent as a con-artist, but that was a life without roots, without purpose and without passion. Now, he lives in a rent-controlled apartment in downtown New Versailles, on the eighth floor of the Bay Gardens building. Its furnishings are primarily modern and minimalist. Like his dress-sense and personal grooming, the sleek neatness of his home is at odds with his apparent demeanor, hinting at aspirations to something more. He had a car—a black '99 Cutlass—but he allowed it to 'return to the wild' by accidentally driving it into a swamp. Now he mostly uses public transportation.
  
  AFFECTS: A stainless-steel wristwatch, a cellular phone, Benson & Hedges cigarettes, a disposable Bic lighter, notepads and ballpoint pens, and a brown leather wallet containing: a driver's license, gun permit, press credentials, two credit cards, a Subway rewards card, and a varying (but generally low) amount of cash.
  
  
  
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