Introduction
Patrick Wolf
An Demon [
money, it's a crime — share it fairly, but don't take a slice of my pie
Appearance
Notable Features
Aside from an inherent and seemingly sincere earnestness and innocence to his baseline expression and interactions, Patrick seems fairly average. He's of a slightly taller than average height, his build is likewise average. The thing that stands out the most is his exacting pronunciation, and tendency to speak in a slightly clipped manner — particularly when frustrated.He does, however, have a smattering of freckles across his shoulders, and a flat mole (or possibly a single large freckle) on the right side of his suprapubic region.
Personal Style
In a word? Neat. In two? Neat freak.Patrick is a man who knows what he likes, and dresses accordingly. A painstaking attention to detail means that there is never a crease out of place — at least not for long. Ignorant of the meaning of 'casual', he's essentially never seen wearing anything other than one of his many well-kept suits, or (very rarely) the long shirt he sleeps in. While he may remove his suitcoat on occasion, don't expect to see him dressed down much more than that.
Circumstances
Currently
The reliable and trusted banker of Never, Patrick is someone to set your clock by. His schedule remains unerring, his polite smile is unfailing, and no one ever doubts that he'll always be his usual pleasant self. What the mundane denizens of the town don't know is that this is far more of a "boy poking an anthill" situation. Patrick is here, ostensibly, to collect the souls of those who are given to greed and desperation. He is doing that work, but he is also here to observe; to poke the anthill and watch the ants scramble.Health & Capabilities
Patrick is not the most robust of men, but he is the picture of perfect health. To look at him, it would be particularly believable to think that he's never suffered so much as a sniffle. To imagine a single hair out of place is difficult enough; to think of him huddled in bed, clutching a blanket around himself, stuffy or nauseous, defies any reasonable person's imagination.Socioeconomics
As the town's banker, Patrick never wants for any basic needs. Beyond that, he dresses well and in good-quality clothing, has his collections of watches, pens, and fishing lures, and in general neither seems to flaunt wealth nor want for anything. He is, essentially, exactly what you'd expect of a financial professional.Of course, those that pay close attention might notice that his personal wealth is greater than he ever lets on. He always seems to be aware of investment opportunities, always seems able to lend money, always has a couple of clean coins or suspiciously clean bills when it's needed.
Skills & Talents
♇ Finances — No one can finagle numbers and legalese like Patrick. He can make you think that 1+1 = 5, given time, and you'll even thank him for being so kind to explain it in a fashion that you understand. There is an almost reverence in numbers for him, and he genuinely delights in the role he plays for the town... and the underworldly forces.♇ Fly Tying — Not only one of his primary hobbies, but something that Patrick has dedicated quite a lot of time to learning and perfecting. He researches each fly before he purchases anything for it, carefully picking a species of fish to target, learning everything he can about it, and then everything he can about the insects (or other things) it eats. In reality, his hobby and skillset far expands past merely tying flies, but it's the precision and slow progress of the actual crafting that he enjoys the most. He has never been fishing.
Identity
Hobbies
♇ Pen Collection — Neatly sorted in a box kept in a drawer in Patrick's office is a large number of brand new dip pens. They are kept sharp, free of dust and rust, and ready to use. Each is somewhat unique, and each is carefully purchased or hand-made by Patrick himself. Each is intended to be used by an unwitting human to sign away their lives, money, and/or souls. Each is used exactly one time, and then tucked away into a new box. They aren't labeled, but he knows exactly why each one was used, and who used them. His favorites are kept in a display box, placed in a quietly prominent spot in his office at the bank.♇ Fly Collection — Another thing he collects (primarily through crafting them himself) is fly fish lures: flies. Almost all of the flies in his collection are carefully made by Patrick himself, and each is displayed lovingly in large purpose-made boxes with high-quality glass windows. Each has an equally lovingly tag attached to it detailing the materials used, the cost of those materials, which species of insect it is meant to emulate, and which species of fish it is best suited for. These flies are not to ever be used for fishing.
♇ Watch Collection — What started from a period of research into which pocket watch to get himself has now become the newest nascent collection for this demon. While it currently amounts to six watches, each was chosen with care and for very particular reasons. Currently each watch is worn on a specific day, with one serving as his 'weekend' watch to cover both Saturday and Sunday, but he regularly peruses catalogs and hopes to find an appropriate Sunday best watch soon.
♇ Bird Feeding & Watching — Every day, Patrick takes his lunch outside and every day he spends fifteen minutes feeding and watching the sparrows there. Each has a name (that only he knows), and he is as particular and protective of them and his time feeding them than he is of anything else.
Habits & Routines
Every morning, Patrick wakes up at six AM. He washes himself, dresses himself, and has breakfast consisting of one cup of black coffee, one soft boiled egg, and a slice of toast — only ever from loaves that he buys weekly from Ms. Schmidt next door. After he eats, he reads in his sitting room until seven forty five AM. During the work week, he then walks to the bank to open it. He'll spend the next four hours working, and at twelve PM sharp he takes a 30 minute lunch. He takes his lunch outside, and spends the first fifteen minutes eating. The next fifteen minutes are spent feeding the sparrows, who by now know this routine and gather to wait for him. After he finishes eating, he washes his hands, and returns to work for another four hours. The bank closes at 4:30PM exactly, Monday through Friday — banking holidays excluded. After closing the bank, most of the time he returns home to freshen up, make dinner, and spend the evening relaxing working on his latest fly.On Saturday and Sunday he instead will take a long, leisurely walk in the morning, read most of the afternoon, and if necessary, take trips to local waterways to study his latest fish of choice. On Sunday, he also attends church, sitting in the third pew back on the priest's right side. Do not even think about taking his seat.
Background
History
In 1711, the South Sea Company was formed. It promised all sorts of things — cutting national debt, great wealth for those involved, a stranglehold on trade with South America. It took nine years for the tainted seed to bear fruit, but when it did, it did so gloriously.An entire country placed faith in a false promise, and it was through that greed and tumbling grief that Patrick Wolf was born.
The manifestation of placing hope in the profit of tomorrow, he started as a thought; a floating, vague concept that drifted along with the quickening rush of anticipation. As the scheme progressed, the thought solidified, became more coherent. Finally, by the spring of 1720, the thought had become a man-shape. It was in quiet halls and whispered meetings that Patrick came to know the depth of greed, and first felt the thrill of standing at the edge of a cliff — hand posed perfectly between the shoulder blades of a trusted friend. A single, solid push; that's all it takes to start the long fall down.
It was quite the dragon to chase.
The quietly empty thing that had been born — a creature in the shape of man's greed, golden and full of poisonous promises — took up a position at the Bank of England as a junior clerk. No one could say exactly when he arrived or exactly who he was; in the end they would all shrug and think to themselves that at least he was neat, and punctual, and the work was done well and on time so why seek out trouble?
For his part, the thing that had become Patrick Wolf took to the work without question, without expectation, without complaint. There was always a new soul begging for relief; always a new contract to be penned. Alongside the mundane piles of paper carrying the wealth of empires upon them, he began penning a ledger of his own. Some nights, alone in the counting house, he would mutter clauses in dead languages no clerk ought to know. The candles would flicker, and the shadows would lean in, eager for the final tally.
In the end, Patrick left the Bank of England, and the shores of the same, for a simple reason: He, too, fell victim to the whispered greed of a greater profit. More and more funds were coming from the Americas, and more and more he heard tales of the far west. It should not have moved him; should not have tempted him from his neat ledgers and careful tallies. It should not have prompted him to sell the little apartment he'd kept for so long, should not have caused him to purchase a berth across the Atlantic. Yet it did, and when he had come to the New World — to the dusty lands in the Far West, where gold tumbled in great waves from the dirt and any man could find a king's ransom down every gully — he found himself as enamored with humanity here, on the rough edge of civilization, as he had been in the soaring halls of English banks.
For five years now, he has played banker for the little mining town. For five years, he has moved the beads on the abacus, taking and giving, every penny tracked in the pristine ledgers kept on neat shelves. For five years, he has grown to be just a bit enamored with this little community, dripping with greed and secrets and magic. Far from the structure and austere protocol of English banking, it's easier to give in to that curiosity that has always lingered, simmering, beneath the surface of his quiet, fanged glee at human imperfection.
Patrick has no intentions of leaving the small corner of the world that he has carefully curated for himself. There is a promise here, that same saccharine poison that he has used to lead so many to perdition, and someone must keep the ledgers.
Powers & Magic
Powers Use
While disease as a whole is within Patrick's power to manipulate, he has a particular fondness for chronic illnesses and mental disturbances. The long, nagging death of consumption or tumors, the disruption of the bowels, the things that cause a long period of suffering... These are the tools of manipulation he finds most agreeable. These are what breed desperation, and it is desperation that prompts people to spend money they do not have — and thus they come to him for financial relief.Alternatively, there is the momentary loss of reason; the impulsiveness that prompts an otherwise steady individual to place an absurd bet, betray their spouse, indulge in that which they never would normally think to. These little moments of temporary insanity can also be used to establish the path to financial ruin... But it is also something like kicking the anthill, and Patrick is endlessly fascinated by how these particular ants scurry about afterwards.
Far more quietly, something that he would deny or excuse, is his power to cure illnesses. There is no earthly reason for him to do so, of course, barring fulfilling the terms of a contract... But it is possible.
