Nostaligialand Motel was a buzzing tourist attraction in the ‘50s, ‘60s and ‘70s back when Harry’s father owned it. A sprawling motel that boasted only themed rooms for any occasion along an arterial section of the US interstate system with nothing else for miles. In its heyday the novelty alone was enough to draw in scores of tourists and passers-through from all over.
The money from this was enough that two more branches were opened in different locations and Harry didn’t want for much growing up. He had no material barriers to the bright future ahead of him but was embarrassed by the family business that afforded him these things. Going to college for screenwriting and film production he lied about where his family’s money came from, ashamed of the inevitable association with chintzy roadside attractions. He was a social climber who wanted to make his way west and create his own, better legacy in the movie industry. A falling out with his father over this meant they didn’t speak to each other after Harry gained his independence.
For a while it looked like he would step out from under Nostalgialand's shadow: he'd started his own Hollywood production design company, cornered contracts guaranteeing him work with major studios and employed dozens of crew. He also fell in love. Melissa Darby isn’t a name that means much these days, but at the time she was the darling starlet of the hour. He charmed her, they began a whirlwind romance, then married and started a chapter of their lives that took the couple all over the world with her career and lasted four halcyon years.
When his life fell apart it seemed like a train wreck that just wouldn’t stop. Melissa died, drug overdose. Harry feigned ignorance but in retrospect was tortured by the fact that he’d seen signs and had known something was wrong. Returning to California he found his business in ruins. Having left it in the hands of a trusted friend the company had been financially gutted and he was forced to file for bankruptcy. Worse, it had ruined his name and he would never be able to work in the film industry again. Then a letter came, his parents had died in a car accident.
Going home again felt like all Harry had left, but the family business hadn’t fared much better. New sections of interstate cut off the flow of traffic and the novelty draw just didn’t pull like it used to. First one of the branches closed, then the other, leaving only the original Nostalgialand still standing. It’s a quiet place now: the occasional lookie-loo, truckers taking a shortcut north and people looking to rent by the hour are Harry’s clientele these days. He doesn’t mind, doesn’t judge and maintains the same fastidious standards for upkeep and creativity of the themed rooms that made him an industry name in his film days. It’s good practice for his obsession and his special customers.
When business started to really slough off Harry shuttered the wing of rooms at the back of Nostalgialand, he needed the storage space for materials that had yet to be sold off in the Chapter 11 settlement of his old company anyway. This set the stage for the start of a personal obsession that consumes his waking hours. One maudlin, drunken night Harry set out to recreate the past. He got little done that first night but finding his work in the morning was a catalyst, every spare moment he would nip away or study old photographs to get all the little details perfect. He was building the first in what would be a series of monuments to his private history. It took six months of work but eventually he had it: the corner of the university library where he had first laid the plans that would become his future company, recreated in exhaustive detail. Sitting down in that little nook something clicked, it was like he was there again all those years ago. Harry was hooked.
It’s all gone so smoothly. Since he started he’s had no problems with employees or customers, regular business hasn’t exactly picked up but the lulls aren’t as crushing as they used to be. Money is a concern (building exact replicas isn’t cheap) but in a mixed blessing strangers with envelopes full of cash wanting to see "the back rooms" have started showing up. At first Harry was nervous about allowing anyone into his personal world but so far none of them has caused trouble and there’s a significant side income coming in.
It’s enough that now that’s he’s run out of rooms he’s thinking about a bigger project. Something that encompasses an entire period of his life he’d do anything to get back. Anything to fix. He’s been looking at the buildings on both of Nostalgialand’s old sister locations. They’d be perfect.
STATS
Personality: Shuffling and dotty, Harry is in his late middle-age but seems much older. Anyone who interacts with him could be excused for thinking he’s miles away. It's only when something grabs at his detail-oriented obsession that he suddenly seems razor sharp.
Rage: Inattention to detail. “All the pieces matter or you might as well not even bother”, more than one employee has been badgered until they quit because of Harry’s standards.
Noble: Respect for your roots. Harry regrets his youthful hubris and wishes he’d had more time for his parents.
Fear: Dementia and Alzheimers. Harry finds himself forgetting more and more these days, he doesn’t know if he has a family history but the idea of losing his memory frightens him worse than dying (Helplessness).
Obsession: Recapture the past.
Wound Threshold: 50.
Motel Proprietor 25% (Substitutes for Status, Coerce Helplessness, Protects Helplessness.)
Production Designer 50%* (Substitutes for Notice, Substitutes for Knowledge, Unique: Design and build movie sets.)
Geo-Sympathy 45% (Unique: Locational Proxy, Casts Rituals, Use Gutter Magick. See below.)
Shock Gauges
Notches
|
Violence
|
Unnatural
|
Helplessness
|
Isolation
|
Self
|
Hardened
|
3
|
4
|
4
|
4
|
1
|
Failed
|
1
|
1
|
2
|
3
|
1
|
Supernatural Identity: Geo-Sympathy
Harry’s obsession and talent allows him to build proxies for locations, so far he’s only done it for places that mean something to him personally but this isn’t a restriction. It takes months of painstaking work to accurately replicate the details well enough for the effect to take but he’s a massive stickler for detail so it rarely fails. When it does work something about the place sets like concrete. It seems somehow brighter in contrast to the world around it.
Any actively proxied location gives a +20% shift to an activity relevant to the original be it by gutter magick, resonating activities or, heaven forbid, vandalism. Much like a regular proxy, destruction of the location has a 50/50 chance to wreck the other instead. It also feels unmistakably like the portrayed location, if that blows anyone's hair back.
Additionally someone carrying charges in a locational proxy can spend them to produce the following effects:
- One minor charge lets you scry the current state of the original location, any mirrors or reflective surfaces instead show what’s going on there.
- One significant charge allows you to breach the spatial barrier between the locations, a single person or object can be moved from one to the other. Unwilling subjects can oppose transportation with a secrecy or supernatural identity roll. This only works from the proxy location, not vice versa.
- One major charge intersects the two locations perfectly for 33 minutes. Anyone or anything entering one can exit via the other since they both occupy the same space. Other effects might occur as a result of this: it would be inadvisable to do it in the room set up as the dining car of the Orient Express where Harry proposed to Melissa, unless you want a derailed European train crashing through a US highway motel.
If the details of a proxy or the original shift enough to symbolically separate them over a long period then the effect abates but will return if it is restored or updated. Harry hasn’t had the heart to do this and about a third of the back lot rooms have permanent ‘do not disturb’ signs hanging from their door handles. He still likes to visit them for old times sake.
No comments:
Post a Comment