Description: He's lank. He's pale. He's handsome. He's British. But most would never quite guess that last, by the lack of any real accent. At 6' 1", his build is lean, athletic; like a swimmer, a runner, a fighter. His stride is confident, easy. His whole manner seems entirely laid back. Yet, there's a contradictory sharpness to his gaze, languid blue eyes always seeming to be seeking something out, something he can never quite find. That smile though... it speaks volumes about his approach to life in general. And that approach seems simple enough: just roll with it. Ethnicity: English Age: 30 Birthdate: Feburary 23, 1975 Birthplace: Southend on Sea, England, UK Height: 6'1" Weight: 160 Hair: Dirty blond Eyes: Blue

Reece Davis Game: UNMOD Nature: Dreamer Demeanor: Bon Vivant / Rake Creed: Visionary Attributes Str: 3, Dex: 4 (Lightning Reflexes), Sta: 3 Cha: 5 (Smooth Talker), Man: 3, App: 3 Per: 3, Int: 3, Wit: 4 (Combat-Reflexes) Abilities Alertness: 3, Athletics: 2, Brawl: 3, Dodge: 3, Empathy: 3, Intimidation: 3, Leadership: 1, Seduction: 3, Streetwise: 2, Subterfuge: 4 (Misdirection) Drive: 4 (Shaking Tails), Etiquette: 1, Firearms: 4 (Multiple Targets), Meditation: 2, Melee: 4 (Razor Wire), Perform: 1 (piano), Security: 2, Stealth: 3 Computer: 3, Enigmas: 1, Investigation: 3, Linguistics: 5 (ASL, Chinese - all dialects, Dutch, Egyptian, English - native, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Latin, Portugese, Russian, Spanish, open x3; Romantic Languages), Lore (awakened): 3, Lore (tradition): 2, Medicine: 1, Occult: 1 Backgrounds Allies: 3, Contacts: 3, Exposure: 2, Patron: 1, Resources: 3 Edges Defense: Ward, Rejuvenate Martyrdom: Demand Redemption: Bluster Visionary: Foresee, Pinpoint Mercy: 2, Vision: 3, Zeal: 3, Conviction: 4, Willpower: 7 Merits/Flaws Acute Sense (Hearing) +1 Deep Sleeper -1 Enemy -4 Magic Resistance +2 True Love +4

Background:
     Whenever I dream, I always see their faces happy and laughing, as I'd seen them last. And it's always disconcerting that I don't find either one there when I wake up. After 3 years, you'd think I'd be over it by now. Well, you don't know me very well, do you?
     I was married 3 years ago, and it was our 4th wedding anniversary that we were to celebrate that night. Aid and translator to one of the many ambassadors that currently resided in London, it was only a several hour drive between work and home. When conferences were beginning to run hours longer than expected, I called home.
     It was her suggestion to wait at the embassy, and as far as I was concerned it was a wonderful idea. She packed up our three-year old, Emily, and drove in from Southend on Sea. Maria was well known at the embassy, so there was no issue with her and daughter waiting there for their no good husband and father to leave the endless committees.
     The debate issue was a hot one, foreign policy, and some of those foreigners decided to make their opinion well heard. The embassy was targeted, and all inside were killed in the explosion. The coroner told me the big surprise Maria had apparently planned to reveal during dinner.... That there would be a second child in our lovely home. Sometimes, when I'm on speaking terms with God and sober enough to remember that He exists, I thank Him that at least they went quickly.
     And so, only days after the triple burial, my anger ran hot, and I was pushed to action. Caught just before I'd entered the house I had traced the malcontents back to, they drew me away unconscious. They, "Inalbeo Crux," were members of a different kind of policing agency, policing for those who normally don't fall under the main laws, or otherwise get out scott free and unpunished. Some have called us assassins, but I'll not deny dying men their last words.
     I still don't know exactly who pushed for the bombing of the embassy that took my children and wife from me. I'm looking still, but the trail's becoming fainter as the years pass. And every now and again, when I hear a laughing in the wind, I hope that it's Maria, Emily, and Charles... and I pray that they forgive me for what I'm doing.

     Years have since passed. My life changed dramatically within these months of our stay within the States. In a strange twist of events, I've taken one of my comerades as a lover. Then, on a chill post Thanksgiving morning, I'd come face to face with my own mortality as few have.
     They say that I'd died on the table a half dozen times for several minutes at a time as they repaired the plethora of veins, arteries, muscles, tendons, and organs that had been so lackadasically severed. And it was over a week later that I'd awoken from the coma and strange dreams of electricity and terror. Kisho had become a mage, no longer simply a sorcerer with imperfect knowledge and not nearly so much power to be potentially abused.
     We've joined a chantry in the area, a mutal learning and teaching establishment. Mages gather there freely, bound by rules to not act against other members nor with the enemies of mages. I'm welcomed into their midst as a custos, a human with knowledge of these Willworkers and working alongside them through any one of the many tasks that always seem to befall us.
     The dreams have continued, although they've been more akin to an awakening, my soul's confession, with my daughter's spirit listening and forgiving me. And I've found that... I've changed somehow. Not meaning the fact that I no longer push away people that attempt to gain my friendship. I've a family of close friends, even ventured to marry my lover. But there's something else.
     I've seen something another didn't. Defended against an approaching foe, creating a barrier that it couldn't cross until I wished it to. We've not approached the mages in the covenent about it as I'm more than a little scared by the idea of becoming a guinea pig. More so scared of that than the unknown ability I'd tapped into.
     We're investigating a creature that I'd banned: a demon, akuma the Korean called it. He was intrigued to my condition but could offer nothing to either bolster or dampen our hope. We have more leads, and we'll follow them since they seem to yield answers to questions we hadn't even asked yet.
     I would kill for a stiff drink....