[Promethean]Ramblin’

Promethean: The Created

One of my favorite bits of Promethean is the Ramble. In case you don’t know, the Ramble is simply the tale of a Promethean’s Pilgrimage, a story summing up their experiences on the road to the New Dawn. I’ve been taken with the idea of Prometheans exchanging letters, constantly relating their Rambles to a disparate throng that maybe only comes together once every few years – it was precisely this idea that fueled The Epistolary Chronicle (which appeared in the Mage Chronicler’s Guide).

The chapter openers for Promethean, like Beast, are going to feature two styles of fiction: One, a connected story of a throng (written by Jose R. Garcia, who also contributed a story to the Firestorm Chronicle Anthology), and two, on the facing page, part of a Ramble.

One thing that we’ve tried to do with Promethean Second Edition is really dig in to the potential diversity of these characters. Part of that meant adding in the Extempore and the Unfleshed as fully playable options, and collecting all 9 of the original Refinements (and adding a 10th!) into the book, but a more direct way to showcase the myriad character options was to present a whole bunch of examples. The write-ups for the Lineages introduce these characters, in just a paragraph each, and the write-ups for the Refinements help you trace their Rambles just a bit. The full-pages chose seven of those characters (and then I chose an eighth, but he doesn’t show up elsewhere in Promethean and I can’t tell you yet where he shows up), and gives you a detailed look at a formative moment, a key part of their Ramble.

So, want to see one? Sure you do. (Next week, I’ll do a write-up about Transmutations. You’ve earned it, you’ve been patient.)

Shadow’s Ramble

I can tell you everything about dinosaurs. I can cook up a perfect batch of scrambled eggs. I can recite the best of Shakespeare by heart. Algebra? I can solve a quadratic equation in my sleep.

I know how to talk someone down from a fight. If that doesn’t work, I know how to strike them so hard, they’ll never want to hit a bottle or a kid for the rest of their life. It’s all there, on the only file that proves that I exist. Police came. Took me away, took Rob from her a few weeks later.

When they were processing me, asking me all those questions, that’s when I started learning all the things I didn’t know. The first time I learned what color my eyes were was when one of the officers wrote it down on my rap sheet. They were brown, just like Rob’s. The only thing that I knew for sure was what they wanted on the signature lines. I signed it the same way I’d sign Rob’s permissions slips when Mom was too drunk to do anything: Anthony Barnes, with the “t” crossed near the very top.

Yeah, I still called her that. That’s what Rob called her, and he dreamed me up to be his big brother, so why wouldn’t I? Even when they took him into the van, he still called her “Mom.” He said goodbye to her first. Mom was too stunned to even give him a hug, so I did it for the both of us. I thought about staying. I really wanted to when I saw Mom curled up on the couch and wailing. I thought that maybe if I could make Rob happy, I could make her happy too, right? It didn’t sound smart then, either. I was gone by the end of the day. Last I heard, she moved somewhere outside of Jupiter. She said the ocean air helped her stay sober. I don’t know what Rob’s up to these days. I don’t think they’d tell me if I asked. I’m working on it.

I lived in a lot of dreams after that. Everyone dreams alone, it’s a great way to keep to yourself. Even when I met Vasily and Driscoll, I’d just spend my time in someone else’s dream, or just go hide when I’d get kicked out. I didn’t like being solid anymore. I kept coming back with a new skin color or a different hair style. One time Driscoll went out on a house call and he took me with him to keep watch. He kept asking me to help him out, so I figured I’d go at least once. I was minding my own business when I saw my reflection in a teapot. Bright green eyes, looking right back at me. Driscoll’s pulled out some gray, slimy thing from one of his patients, and I just stared at myself the whole time. He finishes up, we walk out, and I haven’t been solid since. I think they like me better as a shadow anyways.

I know a lot of things. I just wish I knew more about me.