Dr. Yubi Breathtaker/Dr. Yubi Hirudo
-Seeming – Darkling
-Kith – Leechfinger
-Court – Winter
Intelligence – 3 Strength – 1 Presence – 1
Wits – 2 Dexterity – 4 Manipulation – 3
Resolve – 3 Stamina – 1 Composure – 3
Crafts – 1
Medicine – 4 Specialty Skill- Pediatrics
Occult – 1
Science – 1
Stealth – 1 Panicked Crowds
Survival – 2
Weaponry – 1
Empathy – 4 Specialty Skill Emotions
Persuasion – 4
Streetwise – 3 Special Skill – Goblin Market
Winter (CTL 162)
- Jack’s Breath – 1 Glamour | DP: Wyrd + Survival
- Touch of Winter – 1 Glamour | DP: Intelligence + Science + Mantle
Darkling (CTL 136)
- Creeping Dread – 1 Glamour or 2 Glamour + 1 Willpower | DP: Manipulation + Wyrd – Resolve
Dream (CTL 124)
- Pathfinder – 1 Glamour | DP: Intelligence + Wyrd
- Forging the Dream – 1 Glamour | DP: Wits + Wyrd
New Identity – 4
Mantle (Winter) – 1
Harvest (Emotions) – 2
Defense – 2
Size – 5
Health – 6
Initiative – 7
Clarity – 7
Speed – 10
Willpower – 6
Wyrd – 2
Glamour – 11
Virtue – Charity
Vice – Wrath
Flaw – Glamour Addict
Blessing:Can spend Glamour to increase dice pools
that include Wits, Subterfuge and Stealth — each point
of Glamour increases one dice pool by one point. The
character also gains the benefit of the 9 again rule on
Stealth dice pools.
Curse: Darklings suffer a –1 die penalty to all rolls to enact
Contracts during daylight hours. The penalty increases
to –2 dice if the sun is directly visible to them
Actual Age – 101
Apparent Age – 32
Born – March 18, 1910
Date Taken – January 21, 1942
January 18, I was there beside my wife as my colleague delivered our son. I’d helped with kids throughout my years as a pediatrician, but nothing I’d ever done in the past was as powerful as seeing my son being born. We brought him home, with a blanket my mother-in-law had given us and I did what I could to help Jaqui keep him sated. Three days after and the poor kid didn’t have a name. I don’t know why. I think she and I were still deciding, still arguing just a little on that point. I think about that mistake a lot of the time. That I couldn’t even give him that much, before…
She had just fallen asleep and so I decided to go check in on him.
The nursery was really quiet and the window was cracked open just a little. It was a bit strange. I shut the window and then stood there in the doorway, watching my boy sleep. So peaceful.
Next thing I knew there were dark hands coming out of my own thrown shadow, reaching for my son. I tried to run for them, to put my body between his and whatever was creeping up beside him. And that’s when it pulled us both. Into the darkness.
Unending darkness and the sharp tearing of thorns.
All I knew after that was pitch black. If I was able to raise my hand in front of my face then I wasn’t aware of it. It felt as if I couldn’t move at all. There were no smells, or even sounds at first. Time passed, how much I couldn’t say. Days. Months. Maybe years.
The first thing I remember happening was the occasional breath on my body. My legs, my hands, my face. It had no scent, it was just there for a little bit and then gone. Taunting me. Reminding me that there was someone else in the room. Who never spoke. Who never even moved around me.
But the worst feeling, the loudest feeling… was the hunger and the thirst. It came so fast and stayed, a burning pit in my throat and in my guts, for what felt like decades. How I lived with it was beyond me. But that’s all I was for years upon years: Hunger. Trapped in the dark.
Some days I swore I could hear a baby crying. Then eventually a child. I don’t know. Most days I tell myself I imagined that particular part.
But that breath in my face kept taunting me every so often. I squirmed and screamed and tried to wriggle out of my bonds. But never with any luck. My body was locked in place.
The despair ate away at my soul. The deprivation gnawed at my guts and at my mind. I longed to find my boy, to hold him, to name him. And then one day, I could feel that breath, the breath of that silent sonuvabitch in that room with me. And I knew then, for whatever reason I could take it. I could take it through my fingertips.
I began to steal little bits, with each and every visit. Until one day, voracious and enraged, I stole it all. I stole every last bit of breath, every honey sharp morsel of life from my tormentor. From whatever it was that was there. Once I had, once it filled me from top to toes… I felt more alive than I had in an age.
That day the crying stopped. For the first time in a very long while.
Only then could I see it…the darkness. See it and understand it. It wasn’t a cage anymore. Part of my sentence. It moved, gave up to me, showing me a way. I struggled and struggled, giving up and beginning again. It had to be showing me the way to my son.
Finally, as I was struggling, after what could have been lifetimes, I began to move. I don’t know if I had kept myself there. I don’t know if it was the darkness, now relenting. But I had a way out.
I let it take me where it needed to. I followed its path, willingly, achingly.
But it didn’t take me towards my darling son.
I found myself at the Hedge. And at the edge of a world I barely even remembered.