Borden Brock
Dornal of the Moorlands of Woe

Redcap Wilder
Mo Murder Crew

Description


Mortal Seeming: ~This young African-American man seems to want to embody a strange clash between modern “gangsta” and old-fashioned jazz. Borden Brock -- who only ever introduces himself as Brock -- swaggers in “street fashion” style: brand-name jeans or running pants and matching t-shirt and jacket. The holey old t-shirts that he wears often advertise local blues clubs. Nikes are always worn on his feet. Though he carries himself with proud posture, his head hangs low as if afraid to meet anyone’s gaze. Then again, maybe he doesn’t want anyone to meet his gaze. On the third hand, maybe his brown eyes are sweeping the ground for dropped cash. His hair is worn alternatively neat in corn rolls or allowed to splay wildly in a small afro. A few minor scars brush his brow but more impressive are the thick calluses on his knuckles. He clearly likes to punch stuff. You might not want to give him a target, bro.~

OOC: Appearance 2

Fae Mien: ~Coffee-brown flesh darkens to a muddy (or bloody) brown and seems to pull taut across his bones. Brock’s eyes enlarge and widen with red-rimmed, pent-up rage. His confident smirk widens into a crimson-lipped chisel-toothed grin that slashes across his dark face. His hair thickens into an unmanageable nest that vanishes under a maroon kangol. His street-stylish clothing likewise vanishes to be replaced with odd voile indeed: denim coveralls of a bright-red hue sling over his broad, muscular shoulders. Heavy work boots without shoe laces clomp the Redcap forward. Like all ‘Caps, what’s most eye-popping are his body mods. Unlike many Redcaps that seem to prefer nails or screws bolted into their toughened faerie flesh, Brock likes chains. Thick, heavy links wind around his arms and torso, hooking up from one point to another. The heavy cast iron chains are pulled close to his flesh and possibly hooked into his very bones. Smaller chains run down his arms to each link up to four knuckles on both fists. Where the chains drive into his flesh all over his body, blood perennially leaks from the wounds. The smell of it permeates the air around him. He is the embodiment of nightmares, the nightmare of suffering and anguish and pain, inflicted on the self and the world at large.~

OOC: Appearance 2

"What?! I will fuck alllll your shit up, boy!"

History


Drugs Don't Work

Brooklyn, 1986: Borden became the fourth child to grace the Brock family. There would be two more after for the poverty-stricken Catholic blue-collar brood. Borden never much cared about his parents or siblings; in fact, he eventually forgot his brothers’ and sisters’ names and never learned his parents’. He didn’t even like his name: Borden. Borden. Really? Really?! Fuck that shit!

He by far preferred to simply go by his surname Brock. He threw a fit, even violently, if anyone called him Borden. He performed terribly in the classroom and even worse on the playground. His bad temper alienated his pals. A disobedient streak that often wandered into abrupt, seething violence that always at least involved property damage further condemned the boy.

So, the behavior saw Bord-- Brock, that is -- to residential treatment and in-patient psychiatric therapy at Woodlawn Homes in north Brooklyn. The tall barbed-wire fence, barred windows, and locked doors prevented escape. He was subject to daily doses of Zyprexa and Thorazine and restrained by full-grown adults, strapped up and tied down almost every night.

Brick Mortar Strengthens Enamel

But the medicine failed to help. The doctors began to consider extreme methods of therapy usually discarded. Brock had plans of his own. Overcome at last with pent-up cabin fever and fury, Glamour swirled in the boy’s soul and stirred the sleeping faerie within. Savagely and desperately, he chewed his way through the restraints as the Chrysalis brought his true nature out of its generational coma.

That night, Brock ate his way out -- through brick wall and steel fencing. The year 2000 and 14 years old, Brock never went home. He found his way to the local shelter briefly. Before the authorities homed in on him, the teenager found work at a local boxing club as a towel boy. The club manager, Will Tarp, was a forgiving and patient man, and let Brock live in the club.

One of the members of the club turned out also to be a Redcap and he noticed Brock and the fresh Glamour that lent an air of rejuvenating vigor to the boy. He led Brock to the rest of his corby, the Brooklyn Beasts, all of whom were at least three years older and bigger. Brock’s induction into changeling civilization proved to hardly be a civilized experience. Learning the ropes of changelings was rough-and-tumble.

At first, Brock barely even believed anything he was told. But he soon saw the truth of it all and embraced it with surprising earnestness despite his cynical urban upbringing. That didn’t stop the other ‘Caps from laying bruises and scrapes on the kid. Mr. Tarp took pity on Brock and let him join the boxing club, giving him free lessons. Brock didn’t want or need to learn how to box to fight off bullies, as Mr. Tarp believed. Brock wanted to toughen up to prove to the corby he was just as hardcore as they were.

Fatalities

And the boy proved a natural contrary to his frequent “daydreaming”. Over the next year, Brock honed his boxing skills while running with the Beasts. His ability to fight off his peers vastly improved and with it, their respect. On top of it all, he lost his cherry to the only female ‘Cap in the corby, Lisa Anvilheart. She reported nobody was his equal; more street ‘spects followed.

Finally, his Naming followed in 2001. It was quite an informal event. The Beasts attended a big concert that showcased bands like Cypress Hill, Biohazard, Onyx, and Hatebreed -- something for everyone. He was called Brock the Cock for his love of boxing (as in, rooster fighting), as well as Lisa's report (ahem). There Brock also earned his trademark Redcap piercings and reveled in the bloody mess of a mosh pit. The corby was pretty sure Brock killed his first victim in the middle of that slam dancing. Brock denied it and insisted his first victim would be a year later in the ring.

For that was what Brock did with his time thereafter: he boxed. He won amateur bouts throughout the city, reputedly killing an older opponent when he was only 16. His penchant for violence never dissipated, as was expected for his Kith. However, Brock kept so busy away from the corby and other faerie events that his reputation alone did not feed his isolation. Still, that alienation was preferred. Brock wanted to be a winner and not just a lazy thug. His skills and talents could yet lead him to such championships.

Remembrance


Brock’s mind is maddened by the infusion of Glamour in his dark soul. He has difficulty latching onto the past. He remembers that his Redcap soul has inhabited African-Americans for generations, as far back as the early days of slavery at least. Consequently, Brock tends to get the best visions when he’s pissed off.

Significant Other


In December of 2005, Eveleen Cillian bani Diedne sought out a changeling bodyguard to help her against the threat to her very life that an old feud with an Unseelie lord presented. Evie found Brock. The lovely druid had little problem with recruiting the Redcap with the promise of dross. Soon enough, however, he craved no dross. He craved only Evie, because she craved him. Their passion burned furiously, and he discovered she doubled their sex for her ancient magick. He kept close to his employer and lover, keeping her safe from the occasional bothersome enemy. When she returned to Ireland in 2009, he stood by her side and helped her confront that ancient foe. The old Sidhe lord was forced to retreat between her magick and Brock’s fearless physique. Then they returned to New York together, where she continued to plot and scheme, and he covered that fine ass.

Eveleen

Chimera


Yo-Yo
Level: 1
Origin: Brock’s had this yo-yo since his Chrysalis. It’s a chimerical memory of his first favorite toy as a child, and he keeps it near and dear.
Description: This yo-yo looks old-fashioned: made of maplewood painted red with a sturdy long cord wound around it. You can do any tricks in the book with this baby.
Effects: It’s just an old-fashioned toy.
Glamour Costs: Yo-Yo: 0
Activation: Play with it.

Bunk Styles


Style: War & P.E.
Examples: Leap, shadow-box, flex muscles, run a lap, get limber, assume a fighting pose, burst a punching bag and scatter the filling

Weakness
Homeboy Be Crazy


Brock isn’t just a Redcap, he’s a Redcap that’s been exceptionally touched by the Dreaming. His mind and soul are especially susceptible to Banality and Glamour alike. Like flotsam and jetsam in a heaving sea, Brock is tossed back and forth. Fortunately, his relationship with a Diedne mage has helped to ground him a bit.

Likelihood of Corruption


Average.

Though a mean and vicious ‘Cap, he’s got somewhat constructive goals. He’s not a mindless thug and he’s not interested in working for the bogeyman of the Dreaming.

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