Alec Wrate

"I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do. I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn't even know that I'm alive. I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck... I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it."

- Neil Gaiman, American Gods

The core of his existential philosophy, his paradigm insists that Creation is indifferent and more often than not meaningless until and unless we choose to impose our will and meaning on it. Magick comes from wrangling the cosmic mysteries and principles and realizing that belief and force of an awakened will is the thing that gives them power. Ultimately, then, magick comes from within. The Universe is an Etch-a-Sketch, and mages learn how to twiddle the knobs.

In his view, Creation is fundamentally irrational, dangerous, and filled with powerful forces, most of which are hostile. Nothing makes sense for very long, and apparent safety can give way at any moment and plunge everything into chaos. Magick, science, and faith are tools we use, like fire and steel, to keep the threats at bay; those tools give us a leg up on our ancestors, but in the end we're all utterly fucked. Magick is a cosmic weapon, and using it makes him a monster too. There are other's that have the will and skill to use that cosmic weapon and those gods and monsters hold the keys to magick, and if they like him or if he kicks their ass, they might share those other powers.

Legal Name:	Alec Wrate
Date of Birth:	October 2, 1984
Apparent Age:	Thirties
Occupation:	Tragic Hero
Nature:	Cavalier
Demeanor:	Jester
Sphere:	Mage: The Ascension
Tradition:	Hollow One
Faction:	Councilors
Resonance:	Chaotic
Essence:	Primordial

Tragic Hero:

He's a mage with a scruffy knight complex. Trouble finds him; he doesn't have to go looking for it. He has the worst luck with friends since they're always dying or getting kidnapped. He does what he can to save them. His life's work is the study of the occult, and though he doesn't dress in black, the goths and other Hollowers let him hang out with them because he's so damn cool. Life is a bitter irony that he feels to his core. He's sarcastic and worldly, and he's seen it all. Nothing phases him anymore. Periodically, something will get him riled up, especially when someone is messing with a friend, but he has a lot of faith in himself, so he doesn't panic. He takes life one day, one hour, one minute at a time.

No One is Perfect:
- Bard's Tongue: He speaks the truth, uncannily so. Things he says tend to come true. This isn't a facility for blessing or cursing, or an effect that can be ruled by any conscious control.
- Distorted Image: His image doesn't do what it's supposed to which is to say that is to look like him. His shadow may from time to time make obscene gestures behind his back, and his reflection pulls faces at him from the mirror. Worse yet, this trouble extends to all audio-visual equipment and any likeness created by particularly talented artists.
- Nephandic Taint: Although he didn't fall to the Lost Path and his Avatar is still untainted, the mage wound up learning a bit at the hands/feet/tentacles/whatever of a Nephandus. This colors all of his magic, his Resonance tends to be flavored with destructive, primordial effects.
- Nightmares: He's constantly plagued by nightmares, most are from his past and the time he spent under the power and tutelage of a Nephandus. Others range from the horrible night of his epiphany and other traumatic events from his past, and the fears of the future.
- Touch of Chaos: Disturbing things happen when he is around. This is one persistent manifestation of decay or randomness that, while not immediately apparent, will give away his occult connections. For the most part its wild, inconvenient luck in his presence. From time to time other strange effects such as withering plants or signs of pestilence are apparent when he's been around.