Bobby Pride
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Sobriquet:
Appearance: A Midwestern upbringing says much about Bobby's features and build. He's a hale, hearty man with broad features and a ruddy complexion. Bobby often wears a stubble on his face, even on the days when he shaves. His clothes are army surplus or other work gear, usually picked up on the cheap at a discount store. Since moving to New York, he hasn't had time for a haircut and looks quite shaggy. An altercation with one of the Kindred left Bobby with a scar that runs from the underside of his nose to his lip,where the vampire punched him so hard it split his skin.
Behavior: As if it's not bad enough that you're one of the only ones in on the secret that the damn leeches exist. No, you have to rid the world of them at the same time you've got this damn fool foreign kid who keeps getting in your way. You can't just kill him -- that'd make you as bad as the vampires -- but from the way you've seen him throw himself at the walking dead, you halfway get the idea that he wants to die, so long as he can take one of the buggers with him. When he's not talking about killing "vam-peers," he's talking about God this and God that, and you wish the little pest would just leave it all to the experts. That said, you feel you've been given a new purpose, with this mystical "selection" for monster-hunting replacing what would have otherwise been a life of, oh, truck driving or something. It's your passion; it's your work. It's your calling.
History: The fact that monsters were real hit Bobby Pride when he was working a night-security job at a storage facility in St. Louis. One night, while Bobby was sitting at his desk, a girl walked in, followed by a man - and the man contorted, in Bobby's visions, to a pale and wretched thing with a mouth full of fangs. Stunned, Bobby just sat there and watched as the guy and girl went about whatever business they had at their storage unit. Two days later, the girl turned up dead, drained of blood. Well, the newspapers said that it was anemia or hemophilia or something, but with hindsight, Bobby knew just how connected and influential these things can be.
After he heard about the woman's death, he dug up what little occult information he could, not being well schooled in methods of research. He stumbled across a Web community of like-minded "informed" who actively hunted the horrors that Bobby now new existed. After a few of them mentioned something about a "vampire war" in New York, Bobby felt the calling. He packed what few things he had, tendered his resignation from the storage facility and came to the big city.
It was as awful as he suspected. Since he knew what to look for, he saw vampires everywhere -- over two dozen according to the journal he keeps at his squalid Bronx apartment. Where were all these other monster-killers he had read about on the Internet? To date, he had only seen one -- some crazy kid Bobby has to keep from hurting himself whenever the two cross paths. The idiot won't leave the work to the ones who know what they're doing.
Those are long odds: at least 24 vampires and only one Bobby to bring them all down. Add the babysitting duty to the list, and it's a significant pain in the ass. Lucky for the world, Bobby's up to the challenge.
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