Mortimer Gillenhaus "Mugsy"
The Front-Man, face of the organization
Flaw/foible: Secret ID
Motivation: Get revenge on Miles ‘Big Boots’ O’Hanlan [Good]
Past: Grew up always needing something, Streetwise [Good]
Specialty : Repartee [Good w/ technique +1 Scrounge for Info]
Field of Expertise: Con-man [Master w/ technique +1 while gathering supplies for the job]
Private Investigator [Good]
Soldier in the Great War [Good]
Unchained Technique: Idiom: Debonaire
PDQ Master Chart
h3. Character Record Sheet
|Forte||Poor (-2)||Average||Good (+2)||Expert (+4)||Master (+6)|
The war was hard his father. Mom always remembered his father as the big cowboy with sandy hair who could shoot straighter, rope better and out-ride anybody. Mort only ever saw that man in pictures. The father he knew had the shakes, could barely hold a coffee cup without spilling, grew wispy, gray patches of a mane and could barely make it up the stairs let alone climb up the saddle of a war horse.
His father’s ‘condition’ meant that Mom was forced to hire out for all kinds of odd jobs to make ends meet. More often than not, those ends never made it on the same block let alone meeting. That meant that ‘little Morty’ was sent out to get what necessities his Mom couldn’t provide.
Shortly after his sister, Anna was born, Dad passed on. Mort resented the toll ‘The Awakening’ and the resulting war had taken on his family. His dad never took them to the park or to shows or the circus or even a baseball game, for Pete’s sake. Not that Morty ever had time to play. He was getting quite adept at procuring not only the families needs but a few luxury items as well.
Growing up hardscrabble was allowing Mort to get good at fast-talking, ‘procuring’ things and getting into fights. He ran with a tough crowd in town and the older boys loved to have him pull off cons on rival gangs and stupid shop-keeps. They took to calling him “Mugsy” for all the different people he pretended to be on his cons.
Things changed slightly when everyone discovered his sister was an elf. His fists grew hard with all the knuckle knocking he did to protect her. He was reminded how much he hated ‘The Awakening’ and how it had dealt his family a bad hand.
This was his normalcy till his draft notice came. Mom had started working in old man Rizzo’s grocery and things were on an upswing. Anna was doing better, owing mostly to the larger number of metas that kept popping up seemingly all the time. His skills were quickly noticed by the base commander in basic and he soon saw duty both state-side and in France as a quartermaster. He was so adept that he was among the last of the AEF to leave the European theatre.
He returned home expecting a brighter outlook. Moms letters had tapered off but he was moved around frequently and that didn’t come as all that large of a surprise. She was busy running old-man Rizzo’s grocery as he had no kids and left it to her in his will. Mort stepped off the train, set down his duffel and was noting how different Chicago smelled from the ravaged husks in Europe when the first “Its too bad about the store,” reached his ears. It seems that it had burned down not too long ago. His mom and sister were back to where they had been almost ten years ago.
Some of his old gang was around and rumors slithered that it wasn’t a natural fire and it wasn’t accidental. Mort looked for a way to do some more digging while getting the family out of the mess they were in. His skills and desires seemed to fit well with being a private investigator. It was through a few of his cases that he found out Big Boots O’Hanlan had built an office building over the site. A few underworld contacts had confirmed the use of hired magic muscle to facilitate the acquisition of the few properties holding up the deal. Morty is just biding his time looking for a chance to give O’Hanlan and his corrupt gang the comeuppance they deserve.