Boyd Bennett

Basic Info:

Player: madness_

Position: Investigator

Demeanor: "Rationality ain't being cold. It's being aware of what you're feeling and taking that into account when you're making decisions." In spite of this, he comes off as aloof but cooperative once approached. Maybe even amiable if you strike the right cords.

Nature: "Try digging dirt with a spoon. Now imagine you had to do that, but there was someone buried alive six feet under. Your hands would be quicker - hell, there's a shovel right next to you - but department policy says you should use the spoon." Now operating with a degree of autonomy, Bennett tends to exhaust the options that will yield results the quickest. Perhaps this is a holdover from the days of competing with Stuart when he was in the NYPD.

Description: 5'7, a thick-necked, barrel-chested man with big, hairy arms, brown eyes and hair. Champion of the rolled sleeves button-up, suspenders, slacks outfit occasionally garnished with a bowler. Formal events would have him in his Long Island Police Department dress uniform or his military one, depending on the occasion. His voice sounds like it's been ground through a stone cheesy grater.

Stats:

You have 36 points to distribute among Basic and Pseudo-Specialty Skills. Please follow the guidelines on the Game Mechanics page. Erase any skills you have no points in.

Health
  • Physical Health: 7
  • Mental Health: 7
Attributes
  • Physical Defense: 5
  • Mental Defense: 3
  • Perception: 6
  • Agility: 3
  • Strength: 4
Skills
  • Intimidation: 3
  • Melee: 3 (1+2 from STR)
  • Ranged: 5
  • Sneak: 4
  • Academics: 2
Specialties

You have twelve points to distribute among as many or as few specialty skills as you see fit (but at least three is almost always warranted). Remember to explain what each specialty entails.

  • Pick Up The Pieces..: 4. After working homicide for a decade, you learn that a note pad is your second best friend. (+4 PERC in investigations during favorable conditions: action tempo is at a snail's pace, lighting is fair/flashlights among equipment, Stuart isn't there to distract him. -1 to the bonus if a condition isn't met. +2 PERC to catching lies.)
  • .. Of a Broken Hourglass: 4. Besides marksmanship training, detectives are often trained to apprehend a target alive, by any means. Shoot to neutralize, though neutralize has different meanings based on the threat. (+2 to RNG against opponents using ranged weapons after two rounds have passed. If engagement is not resolved for another two rounds, bump the bonus to +4 for two rounds with the caveat that all other bonuses involving this spec are null for one roll. +2 to MEL when using a baton or something blunt along the same dimensions as a baton. Loses bonus if next attack could be potentially fatal. +2 to physical rolls involving putting someone in handcuffs.)
  • * Long Island Charm: 2. When you're caught in a lie, you can feel the tension bleed into your pores. Even the briefest of stares can get your anxiety to believe the worst. When shots pockmark the concrete right next to you, the shooter's always going to be a little more persuasive. (+2 to INTIMIDATE after catching someone in a lie or after making a shot with the OABH spec.)
  • Hellhound On My Trail: 2. While not the most limber detective, most suspects can't outrun a him on a straight line. (+2 AGI when chasing someone, only works if target hasn't broken eyeline.)

Gear:

  • Notebook and pad.
  • Three pens.
  • M1911A1, along with three magazines.
  • Model 10 in .38 super, with twelve floating rounds.
  • Handcuffs.
  • Collapsible baton.
  • Flask
  • Wallet
Equipment:

*None so far.

Possessions:

  • Dress Uniform for NYPD.
  • Old badge.
  • Wartime photos of his unit.
  • Clothes
  • His leather holsters through the years.
  • The file of his first case.
  • A 'Murica flag. Yeah.

Personal History:

Born on December 7, 1923, Boyd Bennett was born to a family of four. Not the oldest or the youngest, he busied himself through any means! Playing Cowboys and Indians, kicking cans, or annoying his older brother, or visiting his patrolman father while he was on his beat. Two of his brothers went to the police force. When he hit eighteen, he joined the force, married his highschool sweetheart and divorced her two years later after she cheated on him when he went off to basic training to do his part in the war.

Becoming a military policeman on Army bases was a relatively safe job. He married a nurse he was stationed with in California during his two-week leave in Vegas. They later divorced two months after a long squabble about where they were going to live after the war was over. It was in the base that he gave a man a parking ticket, starting a small feud that still stands to this day. After the war, he went and remarried his childhood sweetheart for the second time but shortly thereafter earned the ire of the courts by divorcing her when she slept with another man.

Bouncing back into his old job as an officer, the skills he inherited from becoming an MP (writing search warrants and warrants for a subpoena), he was promoted to detective. Proving competent as one, he quickly rose through the normal desks into homicide, where he met his next wife: assistant to the coroner who specialized in ballistics. They had a child named Boyd Bennett Jr. Called him BJ. They parted ways after she thought he was spending too much time away from home and on the job. She took the kid and what was left of his willpower to put himself back out there.

Branching off from women for good, Detective Bennett put all his effort into work. Unfortunately, due to the nature of humanity, that was impossible. He drank and gambled, but was smart enough about it to not pour himself into massive debt. That was the way his brothers tumbled and now they were owned by some two-bit gangster looking to be the next Capone. From time to time, he received awards by solving some of the mindbending cases coming into play, but he was never featured in the papers. No, the limelight belonged to the man he had given a parking ticket long ago.

But he didn't need the spotlight. Enough people were breathing down his necks already. The number of unsolved cases in his cabinet grew each year and people were worried he was losing his edge. Then another mindbender of a case came into play.

.

Saul Glenn. Age 39. Served in the war, then became a welder in a little Brooklyn shop. No close family, but lots of his friends said he seemed normal til as of recent. Cause of death was exsanguination, according to the coroner's reports. Funny, cause a death like that is usually the work of shock. There was a lot of funny things about this case. The fact that his shrink said he came in one day, complaining about how his hands were doin' things he ain't want them to do. His legs walked him to the edge of his apartment. Said he almost walked himself off eight stories high and the only reason he was able to stop was that he bit on the fire escape's railing and held on for dear life. One look at his teeth and the fire escape would match his story. Figured, he must've gone crazy somewhere along the line after thinking someone was controlling him cause when the shop opened the next day they found him sitting next to an empty bottle of Jack, bloody and.. stumpy. An electric table saw was still whirring when they were calling the PD. Now, it looked like a textbook suicide but there was one question we had to answer. Where in the fuck did his limbs go?

Shit, me and my partner were clueless. First we thought some sicko might've come in the night and taken it, but there were no signs of entry. Bloody footprints and handprints - Saul's prints, mind you - lead to the backdoor, but it was snowing all damn night. There was no way we were gonna find them on our own. So we start the usual rounds of questioning. It was getting nowhere, so a friend of the deceased hauls in Gumshoe Grieves1. Don't know if ya know, but PD hates playing second fiddle to private eyes. We were polite. Cordial. Even impressed when he found the lone drop of blood that lead up to the Cajun foreman's office. But the bastard got cocky and went into the foreman's home without a warrant. Any evidence was deemed inadmissible, and he didn't find any. As I was handing a formal apology to this intrusion to the Foreman, I swear I could've smelled barbeque.

But maybe it was for the best. They got him on trying to feel up some underage girls. Let's say the mob got to him before the law did. When we were digging through his house to find his body, we found him drying jerky in his basement. And something else, too. A little voodoo doll that looks exactly like Saul Glenn. I guess that was my first encounter with the supernatural. Then you spooks came in and cleared us all out. I don't know how you got there that fast, but ya took me in and now I'm here.

Bennett's recounting of the case during his initial interview.

Bennett was later scouted by a Foundation drive after quitting the force in 1958.

Languages

Any languages your character speaks. English is required. Languages should be justified by background or academics.

  • English

Miscellaneous:

XP: 0

Name of Source/Purchase XP Change Date
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