Kisho
Laughing Lord
[White Wolf: Exalted]
- Name:
Kisho
Laughing Lord
- Concept:
Discordian
- Nature:
Trickster
(gain willpower whenever you upset the established order
of things)
- Character
Sheet
- Quote:
"I
am Luna's laughter; I am Her shifting Fool; I am the hand
of Her mischief. I am stream and shadow, fey and false,
truth in the dark."
- Appearance:
To
be written.
- Personality:
Kisho
is too stubborn to die, too mercurial to submit, and too
perverse to fall. He is Luna's changeling child; he sees
himself as Luna's Fool, the Laughing Lord, and he takes
this job seriously in his own lopsided way.
He was born in the dregs of a river-city, Eagle's Launch;
slum-child, a thief like any other. He's seen his share
of darkness; he's been caught and jailed for thievery; his
lithe form and pretty face has caused him more grief than
good. By rights, he should be a bitter shell of a person,
haunted and twisted.
Bitter he may be, in his own subtle way, but he finds his
vengeance in learning and laughter. It was a long lesson,
a hard lesson, and he almost fell prey to hate before he
learned the use of the jester's way. But learn it he did,
and it's served him well. If his laughter is sometimes edged
with pain, or his smile with brittle glass - well, he is
Lunar, and still feral. The laughing hyena has a nasty bite.
His delight is in hiding the seen and unveiling the unseen;
in confounding the order of things; in introducing healthy
chaos to a well-planned system. After all, those Dragon-Blooded
do so hate it when there's a twist in their plans...
- History:
Kisho
doesn't know who his father was. He was born and raised
to poverty, less than a peasant, in the dregs of the Realm
city Eagle's Launch. His mother cleaned streets here, begged
for coin there, and did whatever else she could to bring
in food and scrip.
She was a crafty woman, resilient despite every attempt
of the world to break her spirit. She had her pride; it
was all that kept her going most days, and a fierce and
stalwart entity it was too. "They won't break me,"
Kisho heard her hiss more than once, when a patrician looked
straight through her like she was nothing, when even peasants
spat at her calloused feet.
It was from his mother that he learned deception. He learned
the art of the begger: how to bind one's foot so that it
looked twisted and useless, how to mark one's skin with
the appearance of pox, how to stare in seeming sightlessness
and never startle at the most unexpected noise. She played
the desperate mother and he the deaf and blind child, and
they were convincing enough to bring in more scrip than
most street beggars.
He learned stealth from her, too, and how to disappear when
the Black-Helms came nigh. How to fade into shadow, or hunch
one's hsoulders and duck the head to melt into a crowd.
He learned the streets, the alleys, the nooks to fall into
when pursued. He learned how to present the appearance of
nonperson, unimportance, so that those above you never saw
you in their self-importance.
He learned social patterns, a honeyed tongue, how to watch
people. He learned the tiny signs of a person with a secret,
and the signs of someone soft of heart who might be persuaded
to part with scrip or food. He learned the subtle ways to
talk and charm and guilt a person out of money, and how
to bluster out of a guard's grasp or a shopowner's fury.
He learned thievery. His mother could pick pockets reasonably
well, and knew the art of filching a loaf as one slumped
by the bread stand. His fingers were as nimble as hers,
and she taught him their slyest uses. "They have more
than they can use," she'd explain, "and look how
they waste it! We are their just rewards."
With words like that, she taught him disdain of highborn,
the wasteful arrogant sloths who deserved to be cheated
and tricked. SHe pointed out the flaws of society; she was
remarkably astute in her observations. Kisho wondered, sometimes,
if she'd been born as low as he - but she never talked of
her past, however hard or subtly he pressed.
One thing she never taught him: the trade she plied in the
most desperate of times, when she donned a new disguise:
scrubbed skin, cleaned hair, and clothes with dashes of
color and hints of better living - clothes cut tight and
low and revealing. She was pretty, though she hid it well
beneath rags and dirt and clumped hair - "It's dangerous
to have a pretty face, Kisho," she told him, scrubbing
dirt onto his cheeks and mud in his hair - and when she
cleaned up, she approached beauty. She made him stay behind
when she walked the evening streets in such guise, but enough
muttering from other street rats clued him into what she
did. He brawled with the first brat to say it, but found
too soon that it was true, and thereafter simply scowled
and threatened to sock such wag-tongues in their gaping
mouths.
Most of the time, they left it at that and knowing smirks.
And she didn't just returned with scrip. She returned, a
droll sneer in her voice, with gems and jewelry, finery
lifted from the sleeping fool's house after the deed. Her
right, she maintained. She only collected her due, what
her services were worth, she said. They never paid
enough up front.
The other scum eyed them oddly. His mother was too proud,
they said; she put on airs, she talked fine, like she thought
she were patricion. Dragon, even. Pretty face and she thinks
she ain't scum, like all else. Thinkin' she better than
us.
Kisho was torn, most times. His mother was content to hold
herself apart from the other lowlife. All she needed was
her fierce and stalwart pride. But Kisho was a child, despite
the harsh life; he desired companions. He ran with other
streetrats like a pack of alleydogs, but he was never quite
one of them. His mother had instilled in him her pride,
her dignity, and her dialect. And some rat would always
end up saying something foul of his ma, and he'd be in another
brawl. Him being a stringy thing, he wasn't much suited
for street brawls - but he was scrappy, determined, and
he bit and clawed and exploited every possible advantage,
however dirty.
His mother was never bothered, despite her less-than-swarthy
frame and attractive demeanor. Mutterings, disdain, and
insults, yes - all met with a chill stare and uplifted chin
- but never a pawing hand or violence. Once he knew more
of the way of the world, he wondered at this. His inquiries
finally brought an answer from one of the older lowlifes.
"Like a cat she be," he'd said with a note of
grudging admiration. "Flyin' feet an' quick fists,
belike a pissed monk. Made short work of th' poor sot who
grabbed her; snapped his neck, she did. Cold one, yer mum.
None touch her since, elss she started it, an' most times
not even then."
Well, that sounded like a good thing...! She gave
him a sharp look when he asked her about it and did her
"ice queen" act, all cold and proud-nosed. Said
she didn't like doing it; trickery was better than killing.
He persisted, asking to learn, and after a while she reluctantly
agreed.
Martial arts. It was another of the many mysteries wreathed
through the enigmatic proud slum-woman he called Mother.
All this pride and dignity eventually caused problems, however.
Kisho grew increasingly bold in his thievery; he was good,
and he knew it, but thought was better than he was. He got
careless; he tried to cut the pursestrings of a lone young
Dragon Blood. He figured youth meant lack of awareness.
He was wrong. He'd almost gotten free; he had the purse
in his palm, had hunched his head into "nonperson"
posture, but some extra sense alerted the Dragon-Blooded
youth. A hand grasped his arm like closing steel, and a
hard proud voice demanded the purse's return.
Blustering didn't work. Pity-pleading didn't work. He saw
his fate sealed within the cold eyes of the Dragon-Blood,
in the expressionless face. This one was as proud as his
mother, and his thieving fingers had insulted the noble's
person. If the Dragon Blood had been a mere guard instead,
he might have only suffered a period in jail. Instead, the
noble brought Kisho to his household, signed him into slavery,
and passed him to a seneschel for "processing".
"Processing" included bonds, a detached list of
rules and harsh consequences, and a good soap-and-water
scrubbing. He was too shocked and bewildered, reeling from
the sudden twists and turns of events, to resist. The bath
revealed his pretty form, and that ensured his fate even
harder.
The next months were a blur of humiliation, pain, and confusion.
Once he really realized what was to happen, Kisho fought,
desperate as a cornered coon - but only once. Drugs induced
him into blank compliance for weeks, until at last he was
released from the stupor.
"You know the cost for disobedience," he was told,
cold and straight. "You know the cost for fighting.
Will you behave, or will you be drugged?"
He chose to cooperate. He had enough presence of mind to
cooperate until he could escape; enough savvy to pull the
fleece over softling eyes. "The best revenge is
thriving," his mother had said many times before.
"When they try to break you, survive and thrive
until you can laugh in their smug faces. Keep this in your
mind, and they will never break you."
So he complied, and he waited. He suffered the humiliations
and the degradations; he repeated his mother's words like
a mantra, and he waited. He hid hate in downcast eyes and
subservient agreement; he hid rage and shame in the dark
of his heart. He waited, and at last his chance came.
The Dragon Blood came high on Cynis drugs and called Kisho
to his bed. Halfway through, the Dragon Blood slept, and
Kisho stole away from the room. He moved as if he belonged;
he moved as if called to another duty, and no one suspected
otherwise. Unhindered, he walked out the door and into street-freedom.
It didn't take long before the alarm was raised, his disappearance
discovered. This was an affront against the House Peleps
household; his escape was insult. The streets were not safe;
the city was not safe. Cursing and wild-eyed, determined
to keep his freedom, Kisho fled his city into the nearest
wild.
He did not know how to survive into the wilder places. He'd
known nothing but Eagle's Launch, and now he tried to find
shelter and food in the woods and fields, and winter was
fast approaching. The Dragon Bloods didn't break him, but
the wild threatened to. His body ate into his muscles for
the last reserves of fuel; he ate plants he wasn't sure
were edible, and bugs drifting into hibernation. Damned
if he'd let woods break him when even nobles couldn't!
In the end, a silvered wolf caught his scent and growled
in the shadows of falling night. It bit at his bleeding
heels in the dark, and he fled. Its hot breath tickled his
neck; its paws were soundless compared to his staggering
feet. He ran, and when his weary body failed him, he put
his back to a tree and grabbed a fallen branch. It was a
makeshift weapon, and his martial arts would - he thought
- only lose him limbs to those fangs. But damned if
he'd give up now! He'd been through a hell of silk and semen;
he'd been through a purgatory of starvation. He was not
giving up without a fight!
The wolf slowed as it reached him. Its eyes reflected the
silver of the moon above, and froze him to motionlessness.
A shaft of moonlight touched its fur, and in its place stood
a fey being of all genders and none, shimmering shadow.
He/she/it/that-which-was named itself Luna, and named Kisho
xir Chosen. His brow gleamed silver, and sterngth flowed
into his skeletal frame. Xe claimed him, marked him, and
he began to think that perhaps he could survive
and thrive...!
- Code:
Kisho
follows the Silver Way (for the most part, anyway), but
he's got a few additions, forming his own personal code.
Silver Way edicts are in darker brown.
- Never
flee, never surrender.
- Nothing
is true, everything is true. Question everything.
- Everything
is serious. Nothing is serious. Upturn all.
- Repay
your debts.
- Truth
is relative. Question everything.
- No
one knows everything; everyone knows nothing. Be the
Fool.
- Be
just and generous to those beneath you.
- Slay
not your brothers and sisters.
- Defend
what is yours. And
know what is yours.
- Honor
your word to the deserving.
Character
Sheet
- Name:
Kisho
Laughing Lord
- Concept:
Discordian
- Player:
Danielle
- Nature:
Trickster
- Caste:
Changing
Moon
- Totem:
Tanuki
(raccoon-dog)
Attributes
- Str
2 (3), Dex 4 (5), Sta 2 (4)
- Cha
4, Manip 5, Appear 4
- Percep
3, Int 3, Wits 4
Abilities
- War
Athletics
3, Awareness 2, Dodge 3
Endurance 1, Martial Arts 3, Resistance 3
- Life
Larceny
2, Linguistics 3, Performance 2
Presence 2, Socialize 3, Stealth 3
Survival 2
- Wisdom
Investigation
1, Lore 1, Occult 1
Specialties:
Impersonation
(Performance) 1, Discern Motive (Socialize) 1, Trail (Survival)
2
Advantages
- Backgrounds:
Heart's
Blood 3, Mentor 1, Resources 1, Renown 1, Contacts 1, Artifact
2
- Willpower:
5
- Virtues:
Compassion
2, Temperance 3, Conviction 2, Valor 2
- Renown:
Succor
10, Cunning 50, Mettle 13, Glory 19
- Essence:
3
(Personal 13, Peripheral 36)
Weapons:
Moonsilver
switchklaive
Armor: Gauntlets
Soak: B 2/4, L 0/2
Health Levels: -0, -1, -1, -1, -1, -2, -2, -2, -4,
Incap
Heart's
Blood (animal): mouse,
tanuki, black mamba, barred owl, raven, coyote, hatra, tiger,
feral cat, pike, badger, bat, austrech, catfish, turtle
Heart's Blood (human): Le'dal Alan (Rangelord, Fangsergeant,
air aspect Dragon Blooded); Synis Sea (sadistic stoner)
Languages:
Low
Realm, Forest Tongue, River Tongue, Old Realm
Charms
- Finding
the Spirit's Shape (1m cost, instant duration, reflexive
type)
- Hide
of the Cunning Hunter (1m, 1 day, simple)
- Deadly
Beastman Transformation (5m, instant, reflexive)
- DBM
Gifts: Resilience of Nature, Bestial Reflexes, Enhanced
Senses
- Humble
Mouse Shape (X, indefinite, special)
- Shaping
the Ideal Form (1m, instant, simple)
- Body
Weapon Technique (1m, instant, supplemental)
- Towering
Beast Form (X, indefinite, special)
- Many-Faced
Moon Transformation (3m, instant, reflexive)
- Stealthy
Fox Method (2m/day, 1 scene, simple)
- Ox
Body Technique (X, permanent, special)
- Prey's
Skin Disguise (5m 1 WP, indefinite, simple)
- Tale-Spinning
Mastery (1m/die, 1 scene, simple)
- Trackless
Passage Technique (4m 1 WP, 1 day, simple)
- Sinuous
Striking Grace (1m/+1 initiative, instant, reflexive)
- Snake
Body Technique (5m, instant, reflexive)
- Brotherhood
of Lake and River (5m 1 WP/person, instant, simple)
Merits
and Flaws
- Wanted:
1 pt flaw: Escaped
slave from House Peleps.
- Nightmares:
3 pt flaw
- Secrets:
1 pt flaw: Kisho
does not want anyone knowing he was a slave
or that he was molested/raped by members of and guests of
House Peleps. (Or that it happened at all, period, regardless
of who did it.)
- Eidetic
Recall: 2 pt merit: Sight
and sound.
- Derangement:
3 pt flaw: Dissociation
As
a Discordian Changing Moon, Kisho believes everything is
true and nothing is true. In order to discover truth, one
must experience a thing and look at a thing from as many
different points of view as possible. When Kisho takes a
human form other than his own, he tries his best to submerge
himself beneath the form's personality, mind, instincts,
etc. He tries to become that person for a time,
in more than just body.
When attempting to dissociate at will, roll Wits + Essence.
The ST chooses the number of successes needed to get well
into the role but maintain a hold on your own purpose and
motives. In a failure, nothing happens; dissociation doesn't
work and it's harder to play the part. Botch or get too
many successes and you lose yourself completely in the character.
For every X days in said form, roll willpower to resist
losing purpose and all identity to the role. To get out
of the role after complete dissociation, spend 1 temporary
willpower to make a willpower roll at a 3 difficulty.
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