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- Sep 10, 2023
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The Man With No Name
Also known by Blondie, among many other names
Also known by Blondie, among many other names
Character Source: Dollars Trilogy
Character Behavior:
Blondie is a Dry Gunslinger. Of all the men in the West, you could not find one more stern in expression, nor one more stiff in personality, nor one with a smile so endangered. And whether he's talking business or having a rare moment of kindness, he always talks in a smooth, careful fashion. And in his voice is the roughness of a whiskey shot, with a hint of a Southern accent mixed in thoroughly. It is a personality highly evocative of the tool of his trade: that unfeeling, uncaring, metallic cyclops that cruelly and efficiently destroys all that stares down its single black eye. Though rust has accumulated on him from a recent retirement, his aim is still precise, and his reflexes are still deadly. He has made his living off of death, and so the young foolhardy sharpshooter who thinks they can take him on is just another day for the ol' cowboy.
Physical Description:
The above picture is of him in his prime, about ten years ago. Little has changed since, except for a wrinkle here and there, along with his cheeks having rounded out slightly.
Character History:
The subject of this profile is a newcomer to the Crossroads, having spent his prior 45 years within the borders of 19th Century USA and Mexico. The history he left there is nought but a loose collection of tales from various parts of the West, as there was no one name that could tie all his different appearances together. Indeed it seems that he had abandoned the need for a monikor altogether, always giving a different answer every time he was asked for one. And that's if he was asked; he never gave a proper introduction of his own accord, and any nickname given to him was met with quiet acceptance. 'Blondie', his most widely spread nickname, had just as much value to him as 'Joe' or 'Manco'.
Like a wisp of sand blown from county to county, he emerged from nowhere and disappeared into nothing, his feet motivated purely by bounties and money. And it was for this reason alone that men were killed, sometimes in droves, and systems were toppled into anarchy. It seems as if every place he passed through was left permanently marked by his actions.
Then, as Austin was undergoing its postwar period, he showed up there out of nowhere. Introducing himself as Charlie, he had come in lugging $100,000 worth of gold and many more in cash. It was enough money to make any one man's dreams come true. He purchased himself a mansion, hired a team of servants, and with his displays of wealth he courted the local tavern girl into marriage. His hat had been hung up; a life of miserable wandering replaced with a comfortable luxury that was the shining example of the American Dream. He and his new wife never had to work again.
Ten years and three kids later, 'Charlie' was in his three hundredth spat with what turned out to be a vain, cold-hearted, controlling woman: someone much like himself. Little can be said of his thought process at the time, he was still a closed book even in the 'happiest' years of his life. Perhaps his many unproductive days left him with an emptiness in his soul. Or perhaps marriage and fatherhood were not what he expected them to be. Whatever he felt, he most certainly blamed it on his many heavy disagreements with his wife, leading to the self-tightening of a noose around the neck of their relationship. And it was during that particular fight that there must have been an epiphany of sorts.
His wife had described him grabbing something to throw at her, in retaliation for her splashing his face with wine, only to pause and find that his hand had found the wide-brimmed hat that had not left its hook for ten years. His posture relaxed as he looked it over, and he became silent. He went to wash his face, still carrying that hat, not bothering with his wife as she followed after him, vehemently trying to continue the argument. He was distant, and no matter what she did, she could not break him from the daydream he seemed to be in. He constantly wandered the halls of his mansion, hat held close to his chest.
By dinnertime she had resorted to the silent treatment as well, and left him without a meal for good measure. 'Charlie' simply didn't eat, and instead sat in a chair off in the corner, his eyes far in thought, his hat still held in his hands. The next day, she would wake up to find her husband was gone. Missing with him was his horse Benson, some travel clothes, a meager amount of supplies, and the two old guns he had mounted over the fireplace. Eyewitness testimony from two cattle wranglers later reached her; they said that they had seen him heading opposite of town, and disappear into the rolling sands sweeping through the cactus fields. Nobody in Austin would ever see him again; nor would anyone else in Earth's entire history.
It was on this journey understood only by the nameless man taking it, that something strange happened. Perhaps it was because he was lost, in more ways than one. Maybe he was a victim of random chance: a freak accident that can only happen once, ever. Without even realizing it himself, his steed stepped foot into the grim outer reaches of Mesa Roja, the still-swirling gusts of American desert blocking his sight of the blood-soaked land. Now, our cowboy is in a state of liminality; not knowing where he is, yet still thinking he can find his way once the sand settles. Once his view finally clears, and he beholds the horizon of red and the impossible ways in which this land has twisted itself, he will find that the accomplishments of his previous life has become forever null; and his scattered, dotted line of exploits must begin anew.
Like a wisp of sand blown from county to county, he emerged from nowhere and disappeared into nothing, his feet motivated purely by bounties and money. And it was for this reason alone that men were killed, sometimes in droves, and systems were toppled into anarchy. It seems as if every place he passed through was left permanently marked by his actions.
Then, as Austin was undergoing its postwar period, he showed up there out of nowhere. Introducing himself as Charlie, he had come in lugging $100,000 worth of gold and many more in cash. It was enough money to make any one man's dreams come true. He purchased himself a mansion, hired a team of servants, and with his displays of wealth he courted the local tavern girl into marriage. His hat had been hung up; a life of miserable wandering replaced with a comfortable luxury that was the shining example of the American Dream. He and his new wife never had to work again.
Ten years and three kids later, 'Charlie' was in his three hundredth spat with what turned out to be a vain, cold-hearted, controlling woman: someone much like himself. Little can be said of his thought process at the time, he was still a closed book even in the 'happiest' years of his life. Perhaps his many unproductive days left him with an emptiness in his soul. Or perhaps marriage and fatherhood were not what he expected them to be. Whatever he felt, he most certainly blamed it on his many heavy disagreements with his wife, leading to the self-tightening of a noose around the neck of their relationship. And it was during that particular fight that there must have been an epiphany of sorts.
His wife had described him grabbing something to throw at her, in retaliation for her splashing his face with wine, only to pause and find that his hand had found the wide-brimmed hat that had not left its hook for ten years. His posture relaxed as he looked it over, and he became silent. He went to wash his face, still carrying that hat, not bothering with his wife as she followed after him, vehemently trying to continue the argument. He was distant, and no matter what she did, she could not break him from the daydream he seemed to be in. He constantly wandered the halls of his mansion, hat held close to his chest.
By dinnertime she had resorted to the silent treatment as well, and left him without a meal for good measure. 'Charlie' simply didn't eat, and instead sat in a chair off in the corner, his eyes far in thought, his hat still held in his hands. The next day, she would wake up to find her husband was gone. Missing with him was his horse Benson, some travel clothes, a meager amount of supplies, and the two old guns he had mounted over the fireplace. Eyewitness testimony from two cattle wranglers later reached her; they said that they had seen him heading opposite of town, and disappear into the rolling sands sweeping through the cactus fields. Nobody in Austin would ever see him again; nor would anyone else in Earth's entire history.
It was on this journey understood only by the nameless man taking it, that something strange happened. Perhaps it was because he was lost, in more ways than one. Maybe he was a victim of random chance: a freak accident that can only happen once, ever. Without even realizing it himself, his steed stepped foot into the grim outer reaches of Mesa Roja, the still-swirling gusts of American desert blocking his sight of the blood-soaked land. Now, our cowboy is in a state of liminality; not knowing where he is, yet still thinking he can find his way once the sand settles. Once his view finally clears, and he beholds the horizon of red and the impossible ways in which this land has twisted itself, he will find that the accomplishments of his previous life has become forever null; and his scattered, dotted line of exploits must begin anew.
Affinities: Gifted
Abilities/Skills
Cowboy Skill Group
* Survival (Desert) 5
* Navigation (Desert) 5
* Riding (Horses) 5
* Driving (Wagon) 5
* Social (Tavern) 5
Cost: 250
The skills Blondie needs to travel from place to place.
Gunslinger Skill Group
* Technical (Vintage Firearms) 6
* Knowledge (Vintage Firearms) 6
* Social (Intimidation) 6
* Knowledge (Bounty Hunting) 6
* Medical (Basic Wounds) 6
Cost: 300
The skills that allow Blondie to survive standoffs and firefights.
Colt 1851 Belt Pistol
Damage 3 (300)
+Ranged (+150)
-Removable(-150)
-Finite (-150)
Cost: 150
A dull gray, well-worn yet finely cleaned revolver, it is a very humble weapon that gets the job done well. It has six chambers, and fires .38 metal cartridges. Few who face Blondie get to see the silver design of two intertwined snakes printed on its deep brown grip. While its single action design, requiring the user to manually cock the hammer back to fire a cartridge, may seem slow and antiquidated; Blondie's infamous hammer-fanning technique puts its rate of fire on par with its more modern, semi-automatic brethren.
Sharps 1874 Rifle
Damage 4 (400)
+Ranged (+200)
-Removable (-200)
-Finite (-200)
Cost: 200
A long single-shot rifle with a thick burnt umber stock supporting a scratched gray barrel. Like the revolver, it is well-kept. With an effective range of 1000 yards (910 meters) and a maximum range of 3000 yards (2700 meters), it is the perfect weapon for any cowboy idealizing themselves as a crackshot. Though the revolver has always been Blondie's best tool, his feats from behind those iron sights are all fine examples for all the wannabes out there.
Quickdraw
Agility 2 (400)
-Limited (Only applies to quickdrawing firearms) (-100)
Cost: 300
If you think you've got the draw on Blondie, don't blink! You might open your eyes to find a bullet in your chest. Well, assuming you're just an amateur. The truth is that it's been a good while since Blondie's last quickdraw, and while the lay person may find the iron in his hand difficult to track, there are many in the Wild West who would compare his movement to that of a drifting tumbleweed. The fact that he's as fast as he is now is a testament to the insane reflexes he had in his prime.
Desert Trot
Endurance 1 (100)
Cost: 100
Blondie may have had a stint in retirement, but the scars the sun leaves on your back never goes away. Put him in the middle of the desert with no hat and no water, and you'll find out what it means to handle heatstroke "like a man".
Summons
Benson
Summoning 1 (300)
Cost: 300
A somber horse, barely of note with his plain brown coat and his mane of black, his mood is often a perfect match for his owner. While as loyal as any steed should be, he can get unpredictable if he gets spooked.
Benson Ability: Horse Gallop
Speed 1 (200)
+Ongoing (+100)
Cost: 300
20 mph is a reasonable speed for a horse of his age.
Benson Ability: Hooves
Damage 1 (100)
Cost: 100
The worst place to be around a spooked horse is right under it.
Speed 1 (200)
+Ongoing (+100)
Cost: 300
20 mph is a reasonable speed for a horse of his age.
Benson Ability: Hooves
Damage 1 (100)
Cost: 100
The worst place to be around a spooked horse is right under it.