Difference between revisions of "Mr Baxter"

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==Background==
==Background==
2023 William Simon John Baxter is born. Raised in downtown in the residencia near the docks, there was very little chance he wouldn’t end up in the mafia given his traits. His parents worked all days on the dockyards and couldn’t afford much with the meagre pay, this third mouth proving a tricky bit to feed. Growing up through adolescence the Baxter’s only found themselves strained further, and with the madness of world events leading up to and happening in the 2030’s their economic statuses were only crumbling. It wasn’t what they wanted but quitting their jobs and offering service to the local Finnegan Family to put food on the table was one of the only options left, and it went a long way to shape Will into who he is today.
Born into the Mafia business right back in 2023, William Simon John Baxter was in dangerous waters when he awakened. The Catholic community of the family often took poorly to the concept of magic and always had a local priest watch over the young kid. He was a genuinely nice person, and surprisingly understood the fact that Will did not choose to be born this way, though this would lead the priest to view the happening as the work of God instead, which itself lead to the child being forced into the tradition. For the sake of not being disowned, or worse yet attacked by the family, he had to believe in God. After years and years of this, it was difficult to tell whether or not he truthfully didn’t.


As he got older, it was clear to all that he was a bit more than just persuasive. He was awakened, and the street taught him to play tough with it. His place under the mafia’s thumb, however, meant a more diplomatic approach was needed rather than cause a ruckus and risk angering the capos. Exactly this happened when he was 17, when a son of a member came to blows with the kid after losing a grand in a poker game, exactly the thing he was trying to avoid. When he was brought to the father figure, he could feel his sins crawling up his back and braced for the worst; ''”A tirade? A beating? Please don’t punish my parents,”''. He was forced down into a chair and the man leaned into him.
Much to the disdain of the priest, the young adult Will’s charisma found more use shaking down debtors or blackmailing officials than it did spreading the word of God or praying for the innocent. What hurt him most was that it did not seem forced upon him; where he would politely though begrudgingly join the chorus at sermons, he would be grinning from ear to ear as he crushed the spirits of a hit. The Mafia, however, found his ‘business’ capabilities for more important than his absolute devotion to saying ‘Amen’. One evening, the priest - now quite elderly – fell ill, and blamed it upon the corruption he feels from associating with Mr Baxter.


“You da piece a shit who scammed my boy outta cash?”
The next evening, Mr Baxter visited him with a white rose in hand – symbolising purity – and a new tattoo still raw. It is of a large cross upon the right side of his neck. The top of it reaches just below the ear and the left arm would almost come round to his Adam’s apple, and whilst all black was ornately detailed with two scrolls wrapped around it reading “Communicatio in Sacris” and “Ave Didachè”. The first is a reference to Canon 844: a Catholic law regarding the licit sharing of certain sacraments with non-members… a nod to the possibility that he did not believe in God, though obscure enough to not draw attention from the fellow family members. The second has dual meanings, with it’s direct translation meaning “Hail the Teaching” referring to the priest as his teacher, though Didachè is also the Italian name of the Didache or Didact: The first of the Church Orders. He met with the priest, brought him dinner and pledged to him that his teachings were not for naught. The priest died within a month.


Will would not give anything but a weak nod, trying to avoid his gaze.
Despite the priests assuredness in his demise being the cause of Mr Baxter, the family did not suspect foul play by him continued to utilise him as an effective tool for ‘diplomacy’. By now, he was working for more than just his family, but the Finnegan family that parented theirs. During the family issue of James O’Malley’s murder and the subsequent usurpation of by the Butcher, Mr Baxter and his family were fighting on the side of James’ daughter – Rowena – and eventually saw their support pay off in 2070 when she finally got vengeance and retook the title of Capo. Soon after this, however, Mr Baxter would retire from the business with a lifetime of earnings and almost 30 years of service on his belt. He would spend the next decade or so of his life finally living as he pleased.


“Look at me dipshit I’m talking to you.
Mr Baxter ceased relations with a lot of his family. His parents had grown very old by now, though rather than see it out with them he gave them an appreciable share of his wealth and left America. Many bridges were burnt, with only an essential few left and kept very secretly. He had left and travelled to Europe, firstly Rome. Finally, without the limitations of the families, Mr Baxter renounced his faith in God. He knew all along where he was summoning up his power from, he knew exactly why he was a master of the social arena, he knew that he did not put the fear of God in his targets… but the fear of him.


He had truly revelled in the manipulation he achieved over the dozens of years, the sensation of control achieved through well said words and social traps ensnaring his prey, it was all so exhilarating to him; it still is. Without any need to hold back anymore, he was free to experiment with his capabilities without confining himself to the rules of a religion. With what he had learnt along the way, he knew exactly how to use such symbolism as his weapons and he bore the cross upon his neck with pride, knowing exactly what its true meaning was.


“HEY DIPSHIT!” the man yells slamming his hand to the back of Will’s head and tugging on the tufts of hair, forcibly raising his face to his own. He winced, but opening his eyes, he locked them with the fathers. The man saw Will’s eyes glean a spark of light before his iris’ burned a glowing blood-red.  
Spending the earnings frivolously, Mr Baxter developed many refined tastes for the absolute best that life had to give, though he only enjoyed it if he could fight for it. Metaphorically of course, so many years of terrifying people with words led to the actual need to terrify with guns lacking. Though it wasn’t enough to just buy the newest suit on the line or follow the trendsetters with their increasing bizarre styles, he had to establish his own form, one that would best compliment himself for nothing else out there was truly designed with him in mind.


“The dickhead can’t bluff for shit, he lost like a chump.
It is this self-indulgence that fuelled his adept powers, his desire to control others and glorify himself that drove his black magics. And it was in these rampant years that his selfishness was most powerful. He travelled from city to city, falling in love with many of the traditionalist style of London and beatifying the sights of Rome and other Catholic cities for their holy constructions being the works of a contradictory ‘communal hubris’. Aesthetically, the things he beheld around the cities were to him the works of desire, much like his own, and many beautiful ones at that. In his hunt for optimising his view, he had obtained a cane from Mortimer of London, along with many other icons of their clothing. This cane’s extravagance was ingrained in its secondary function as a gun; a pompous and unneeded addition on the surface, but an icon of the deceptive symbolism Mr Baxter enjoyed so much, he simply had to have it. With this, he took to practising his shot, and whilst never finding any enjoyability in the decorum-void usage of automatic rifles or otherwise efficient means of dispatching an individual, the sheer feel of a giant handcannon like the Ruger Super Warhawk inspired enough awe in him to practise it further, though it was round abouts 8 or 9 years into this foray of his that he discovered a new problem.


The father figure couldn’t help but stare, still clasping and still angry, but unsure of what he was doing; of who he was talking to.
He had not balanced his hedonism with sustainability, and his accounts were soon running thin, far before it was time for him to die. He had to adapt, change his lifestyle to fund his manipulative desires… but he couldn’t just join a corp, he was without any history or licit background, nor could he join another syndicate and limit himself to their laws. It was time to truly challenge his capabilities and give him the fight he so desired. Mr Baxter flew back to Seattle, plan in mind and ready to set in motion, though found difficulty in starting it when he discovered that his SIN he had been using was warranted for arrest. Running low on cash and without contacts he could yet get in touch with, he was forced to abandon it and try to lay low using a half decent burner as his only fallback.


A grin spread across Will’s face after his last comment, following with “Hope you didn’t teach him to bet 500 with 2,7, I wasn’t scamming, just had about every chance of not losing with a full house.
The first of his bridges he needed to cross was going to sort his transportation, and a commlink call to an unlisted number later, a taxi would arrive at his location driven by none other than John Baptise himself. Mr Baxter had called in a favour for his plan, to earn entry into the Shadowhaven community – a network of shadowrunners in Seattle. This would be his new occupation. Now, he just had to set up a few more contacts with his other bridges. Juhn Slide was next visited by Mr Baxter, a street doctor who he had first come to know from a rock concert in the city. If drek really hit the fan, Dr Slide would be his best shot and survival. After that was a fellow named Black Cat, also in the area. A black marketeer: Baxter’s first purchase from him were some cigars, his most recent was the R6 Fake SIN he just lost. He’s a good bloke. Lastly, he needed someone to find him some work, and an old Mafia contact was his card for this one. A certain David Harsmen wasn’t actually situated in the city anymore but still very much a member and reliable fixer, they had met with each other before whilst Baxter was working directly with the Finnegan’s.  


Stunned, was perhaps the only fitting description of the man. His grip began to loosen, before he brought his hand back to him. Stepping back, he continued to stare.
So, with the beginnings of a new network in place, and with coffers almost completely empty, it was time to unretire. The Old Boy’s back and at it.
 
“I… I’m sorry.” Stutters the father. “Give me one moment.”
 
 
The man returned with a higher ranking member, Will didn’t recognise him. Italian words are shared between them whilst observing the kid before the new man signalled the father away and approached Will. This man was already more intimidating, and he hadn’t done anything yet.
 
“We will be using you,” He stated, “You have something that’s very useful to us.”
 
A notable wave swept over Will, not like a smell or breeze, an aura. It felt soothing. He felt like complying. He was awakened too.
 
 
 
The many years Mr Baxter served the family for were often less interesting than this event that started it all, and they went on for far longer. Will was trained by the mafia to further control his awakened capability to dominate the social battlefield. He was treated carefully, and rarely left alone by his mentor in the presence of other mafia members. But people who hadn’t kept up their debts? They were open season for a magically enhanced shakedown.
 
Years and years kept going by, more and more autonomy was afforded as he accepted the family he had become a part of. His parents were well looked after and so was he; well paid and SINless. The world had down many things by now, including Seattle and therefore including the family. Feuds were common place and after James O’Malley fell, a real drekfest started. Will had taken the side of his daughter, Rowena, and continued to serve over the twelve years it took for her to get revenge and retake the throne. During the dozens of years that had gone by, Mr Baxter had served in many diplomatic roles for the O’Malley’s. Some Bargaining, some persuading and all with force, his age had sharpened his tactics into heartlessly inflicting threats of utter ruin for the poor sods on the receiving end, and his brutal onslaughts of dehumanising insults have subdued attackers.
 
After Rowena had her throne, Mr Baxter retired and spent a nearly decade-long vacation across Europe, though mainly England and Italy. He wasn’t in his prime anymore and felt the need to take a break. Such a hateful existence for the previous 30 years changes a man, and he wanted to reclaim himself. The cash he had earned was plentiful, and to stay away for so many years was a dream come true, but it was always going to run out. With so much available to him, it was difficult not to spoil. He developed a taste for fine fashion, particularly the London scene and the designer MoL, as well as a dependence on no worse a lifestyle than that of the successful wageslave.
 
Mr Baxter barely had enough Nuyen to make it back to Seattle and had a whole new issue after he found his go-to Fake SIN was registered with a warrant for arrest for illegal immigration. With only one good half decent SIN left, it was time to dial up some numbers and find some work. Hooking back up again with the mystical John Baptise, Mr Baxter made his was to Redmond where he’d find to of his trusty old contacts. It was a pleasure to meet up with Dr Slide again, and lovely news to hear that his kids were doing well. Black Cat was a sight for sore eyes too, and a very fine evening was spent smoking and dining upon a rooftop.
 
Finally, he needed to get in touch with the Finnegans. ‘Once a made man, always a made man’ was what he was hoping to hear, but it wasn’t so easy. No family work could be offered, but the contacts had an even better idea. One of their kin, Dan Harsmen, is a family member operating in Texas currently, trying to broaden connections, but he still had plenty of work to be done on the home turf and offers fixes to members of the ShadowHaven, a local running community. A few sim-meetups later and Mr Baxter was ready to play ball, and with creds running low, it’s about time.


==Narrative Significant Qualities==
==Narrative Significant Qualities==

Revision as of 22:09, 9 February 2021

Mr Baxter
Mr Baxter.jpg
Gentleman Face
Old Guy Got Bored
Discord@Dandy#7063
Reddithttps://www.reddit.com/user/DaDaDaDandy
MetatypeHuman
Street Cred0
Notoriety-1
Public Awareness0
Titles and Awards0
CDP6
D.O.B.January 1st 2023
Age62
Folderhttps://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1fdmzmS1SCVlmqpRFSlGkcWsZTUPdmm82?usp=sharing
PriorityMetatype - D
Attributes - A
Magic/Resonance - C
Skills - B
Resources - E


Character Information

Summary

Old is gold, and Mr Baxter is a testament to the saying. He's back in business after a lengthy hiatus and more dangerous than ever. Ex-mafioso and debt-collector, William know exactly how to drive the conversation and is an adept at getting what he wants with nothing more than words rolled off a tongue both silvered and barbed. So many years of service has him well associated with the shadows of Seattle, working with the Finnegan's for 30 years before spending almost all his earnings across the next few whilst travelling between Britain and Italy - London, Rome & Madrid being his favourite places to visit,

  • Trivia:
    • William Simon John Baxter was born 37 minutes into 2023
    • He absolutely refuses to wear anything by Armanté
    • Given how much Italian he has learned over the years, he could probably get an Italian SIN and pull it off.

Goals

Short Term:

  • Earn enough to put some more SINs on his belt.
  • Find increasingly extravagant clothes to wear.
  • Otherwise improve gear and skills.

Long Term

  • Strengthen relations with current or new contacts
  • Maybe find a few runners to call chummers
  • Maybe get a big enough paycheck to call a high lifestyle home.
  • Run just enough to get the most out of it, but never let his age get anything out of him

Background

Born into the Mafia business right back in 2023, William Simon John Baxter was in dangerous waters when he awakened. The Catholic community of the family often took poorly to the concept of magic and always had a local priest watch over the young kid. He was a genuinely nice person, and surprisingly understood the fact that Will did not choose to be born this way, though this would lead the priest to view the happening as the work of God instead, which itself lead to the child being forced into the tradition. For the sake of not being disowned, or worse yet attacked by the family, he had to believe in God. After years and years of this, it was difficult to tell whether or not he truthfully didn’t.

Much to the disdain of the priest, the young adult Will’s charisma found more use shaking down debtors or blackmailing officials than it did spreading the word of God or praying for the innocent. What hurt him most was that it did not seem forced upon him; where he would politely though begrudgingly join the chorus at sermons, he would be grinning from ear to ear as he crushed the spirits of a hit. The Mafia, however, found his ‘business’ capabilities for more important than his absolute devotion to saying ‘Amen’. One evening, the priest - now quite elderly – fell ill, and blamed it upon the corruption he feels from associating with Mr Baxter.

The next evening, Mr Baxter visited him with a white rose in hand – symbolising purity – and a new tattoo still raw. It is of a large cross upon the right side of his neck. The top of it reaches just below the ear and the left arm would almost come round to his Adam’s apple, and whilst all black was ornately detailed with two scrolls wrapped around it reading “Communicatio in Sacris” and “Ave Didachè”. The first is a reference to Canon 844: a Catholic law regarding the licit sharing of certain sacraments with non-members… a nod to the possibility that he did not believe in God, though obscure enough to not draw attention from the fellow family members. The second has dual meanings, with it’s direct translation meaning “Hail the Teaching” referring to the priest as his teacher, though Didachè is also the Italian name of the Didache or Didact: The first of the Church Orders. He met with the priest, brought him dinner and pledged to him that his teachings were not for naught. The priest died within a month.

Despite the priests assuredness in his demise being the cause of Mr Baxter, the family did not suspect foul play by him continued to utilise him as an effective tool for ‘diplomacy’. By now, he was working for more than just his family, but the Finnegan family that parented theirs. During the family issue of James O’Malley’s murder and the subsequent usurpation of by the Butcher, Mr Baxter and his family were fighting on the side of James’ daughter – Rowena – and eventually saw their support pay off in 2070 when she finally got vengeance and retook the title of Capo. Soon after this, however, Mr Baxter would retire from the business with a lifetime of earnings and almost 30 years of service on his belt. He would spend the next decade or so of his life finally living as he pleased.

Mr Baxter ceased relations with a lot of his family. His parents had grown very old by now, though rather than see it out with them he gave them an appreciable share of his wealth and left America. Many bridges were burnt, with only an essential few left and kept very secretly. He had left and travelled to Europe, firstly Rome. Finally, without the limitations of the families, Mr Baxter renounced his faith in God. He knew all along where he was summoning up his power from, he knew exactly why he was a master of the social arena, he knew that he did not put the fear of God in his targets… but the fear of him.

He had truly revelled in the manipulation he achieved over the dozens of years, the sensation of control achieved through well said words and social traps ensnaring his prey, it was all so exhilarating to him; it still is. Without any need to hold back anymore, he was free to experiment with his capabilities without confining himself to the rules of a religion. With what he had learnt along the way, he knew exactly how to use such symbolism as his weapons and he bore the cross upon his neck with pride, knowing exactly what its true meaning was.

Spending the earnings frivolously, Mr Baxter developed many refined tastes for the absolute best that life had to give, though he only enjoyed it if he could fight for it. Metaphorically of course, so many years of terrifying people with words led to the actual need to terrify with guns lacking. Though it wasn’t enough to just buy the newest suit on the line or follow the trendsetters with their increasing bizarre styles, he had to establish his own form, one that would best compliment himself for nothing else out there was truly designed with him in mind.

It is this self-indulgence that fuelled his adept powers, his desire to control others and glorify himself that drove his black magics. And it was in these rampant years that his selfishness was most powerful. He travelled from city to city, falling in love with many of the traditionalist style of London and beatifying the sights of Rome and other Catholic cities for their holy constructions being the works of a contradictory ‘communal hubris’. Aesthetically, the things he beheld around the cities were to him the works of desire, much like his own, and many beautiful ones at that. In his hunt for optimising his view, he had obtained a cane from Mortimer of London, along with many other icons of their clothing. This cane’s extravagance was ingrained in its secondary function as a gun; a pompous and unneeded addition on the surface, but an icon of the deceptive symbolism Mr Baxter enjoyed so much, he simply had to have it. With this, he took to practising his shot, and whilst never finding any enjoyability in the decorum-void usage of automatic rifles or otherwise efficient means of dispatching an individual, the sheer feel of a giant handcannon like the Ruger Super Warhawk inspired enough awe in him to practise it further, though it was round abouts 8 or 9 years into this foray of his that he discovered a new problem.

He had not balanced his hedonism with sustainability, and his accounts were soon running thin, far before it was time for him to die. He had to adapt, change his lifestyle to fund his manipulative desires… but he couldn’t just join a corp, he was without any history or licit background, nor could he join another syndicate and limit himself to their laws. It was time to truly challenge his capabilities and give him the fight he so desired. Mr Baxter flew back to Seattle, plan in mind and ready to set in motion, though found difficulty in starting it when he discovered that his SIN he had been using was warranted for arrest. Running low on cash and without contacts he could yet get in touch with, he was forced to abandon it and try to lay low using a half decent burner as his only fallback.

The first of his bridges he needed to cross was going to sort his transportation, and a commlink call to an unlisted number later, a taxi would arrive at his location driven by none other than John Baptise himself. Mr Baxter had called in a favour for his plan, to earn entry into the Shadowhaven community – a network of shadowrunners in Seattle. This would be his new occupation. Now, he just had to set up a few more contacts with his other bridges. Juhn Slide was next visited by Mr Baxter, a street doctor who he had first come to know from a rock concert in the city. If drek really hit the fan, Dr Slide would be his best shot and survival. After that was a fellow named Black Cat, also in the area. A black marketeer: Baxter’s first purchase from him were some cigars, his most recent was the R6 Fake SIN he just lost. He’s a good bloke. Lastly, he needed someone to find him some work, and an old Mafia contact was his card for this one. A certain David Harsmen wasn’t actually situated in the city anymore but still very much a member and reliable fixer, they had met with each other before whilst Baxter was working directly with the Finnegan’s.

So, with the beginnings of a new network in place, and with coffers almost completely empty, it was time to unretire. The Old Boy’s back and at it.

Narrative Significant Qualities

Positive

  • Put's the 'Brutal' in Gentleman

Charisma is Mr Baxter's game, though whilst he's able to play on all fronts he's better on the offensive and best when speaking softly. A close connection with the Mafia has taught him plenty of ways to mentally dominate people.

  • Watch the Suit

The attention he pays to he wardrobe extends to keeping it all in check too.

  • Learnt Diogenes' Lesson

His line of work has shown him everything that can and will go wrong, all a cynic need do is expect it and he can always have an edge.

Negative

  • Aged like a Fine Wine

Wisdom comes with age, though it could be argued that there's nothing wise about shadowrunning. Those folks obviously haven't got the work mentality.

  • Creature of Comfort

It's easier for a younger fellow, but after all these years anything less than a middle lifestyle is agony for an old git.

  • No one Wears it like I do

Mortimer of London's clothing lines aren't uncommon amongst shadowrunners, but there's something about the way Mr Baxter looks that makes them suit so well... which isn't always a good thing

  • I can't be seen wearing that!

He agrees that he does look good in a fine suit, but the only thing he abhors more than torn jeans is the idea of wearing them himself.

Run History

NameGMMetaplotThreatDate of Run
Evergreen KingdomOrionsRequiemCross Flight Love FightHigh2 March 2082
Helping Hands, Salivating GlandsAsmodeusHail to the PumpkingMedium1 March 2082
My Burning Flamesaw of LoveKaylaidoscopesMedium14 February 2082

Affiliations

Contacts

Contact Connection Loyalty Archetype Profession Aspects Chips
John Baptise 2 2 Service Taxi Driver Reliable, Voodoo, No Questions Asked Even
Black Cat 5 2 Gear Black Marketeer Burnout Adept, Black Market Connections, Gun Runner, Gang Leader, Demolition Expert, Back Alley Chop Shop Even
David Harsmen 5 2 Fixer Fixer Well Traveled, Charmer, I Got Friends..., Ware Contact, CAS Resident, Finnigan Even
Juhn Slide 4 2 Service Street Doc I Love Rock 'n' Roll, Carry On Wayward Son, (Don't Fear) The Reaper, Hotel California, More Than a Feeling Even


Organizations

Allies

Enemies

In Character Information

Symbols and Signatures

Matrix Search Table

Threshold Result
1
3
6

Shadow Community Table

Threshold Result
1
3
5


SINs

Name Place/Corp Rating Licenses
Edgar Wood Seattle 3
  • Concealed Carry Permit (3)
  • Firearms License(3)

Appearance

Matrix Persona

Media Mentions

ShadowGrid Profile Comments