|The Pleasure Principle, by René Magritte|
You're right. You'll prove it.
You were born under the Moon of the Mare. The Summer Court has many children, and favoritism is rampant and arbitrary. But you're more than a favorite. You're special. Her fire lives in your heart, and her glory shines from your eyes. When you dream, her court attends you, with their blacksmith's hands and neon teeth and hi-gloss skin. Their hearts beat with hate and hunger. They want to kill you and fuck you and eat you. You don't owe them anything.
Starting Equipment: A pair of showy custom made handguns. Not custom made for you. Ammunition for the same. An extremely expensive, ostentatious costume you'd never pick for yourself. A hip flask full of gasoline. A book of matches.
Skills: 1) Demagogue 2) Sophist 3) Party Animal 4) Media Junkie 5) Street Racer 6) Prophet
A) Summer Teeth, Season of Revolutions
B) Hold Me! Touch Me!
C) Divinity of Broken Towns
D) Pleasure Principle
You need Charisma 12+ to be a Paladin. If your Charisma ever drops below 12 for any reason, you lose all of your special shit. Because you were never a Paladin at all. You were just pretending.
Summer Teeth- Sure, you're a gatekeeper and a hater. You're also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. You can make any check as a Charisma check as long as you do it absolutely fucking spectacularly. Outrageous action movie stunts, solving problems at gunpoint with dramatic monologues and narratively satisfying conclusions, anything. But key to this approach is that you don't fall on your ass like a total loser. If you fail this check, the consequences are inevitably much worse than if you had slogged through pretending to be normal. But you won't fail.
|from Kill Six Billion Demons|
Divinity of Broken Towns- You have a dream about the coolest motorcycle in the world. It looks exactly like you want it to. It rides like a dream. It comes when you call. But it comes with responsibilities. Yuck, I know, but listen. It goes like 160 mph + your Charisma score, which is like 400 meters per turn, which is insane. It can do sick jumps and stunts and stuff no problem. If you do something basically impossible (ramping your motorcycle through a moving helicopter and shooting the pilot on the way out), you'll need to use Summer Teeth, but you can definitely fucking try it. Not even a question. It doesn't need fuel. It runs on you. But it's a living thing. It's a child of the Summer Court, like you. An exile, like you. And its heart hates and hungers like yours. Every session, your motorcycle will make a wish. It might want to burn something, or kill someone, or get cool matching tattoos, or go and get milkshakes at this awesome place in town you've never heard of. If you don't grant its wish, it gets grumpy and won't come back until you sacrifice something valuable and important to it. It's used to that kind of treatment.
|At Shift's End, by Rashed al-Aroka|