The Wicker Switch

Player Name



The Wicker Switch


Ultra violent decadent wicker and wire electro effigy chain type; my tribute to a great character.


Third Rail: Wicker is a living (?) capacitor, a side effect of the way in which she was created. When another creature or person makes physical contact with her, she may expend an Action Point to discharge some of that deadly demonic electricity into their body. This attack uses her Third Rail stat vs the target's Physical Defense, and does not use her turn.


AC/DC: While it does nothing for her physically, Wicker is oddly comforted by (and covetous of) sparks, electricity, and moving mechanical parts.

The 10 AM to Paris: Wicker has garnered a small amount of infamy in Paris as a skulking thief and murderer, always killing or stealing near subway stations. Some scarred civilians have reported getting away with their lives by offering up their valuables and small trinkets, some have been found face down, held against the deadly third rail to fry. No reports of her description are ever quite the same; some tell of a thing like a gorilla made of telephone wire, a Glasgow grin illuminated by blue electric lights - others describe a thing in a trench coat and hat, it's lithe arms made of discarded Christmas lights, bulbs broken into rough but effective shanks.

Negative Overload: Wicker, like her distant brother, has one solid weak point. She is acutely aware of this.


  • Third Rail: 4 (Great)
  • Engineering (Mechanical): 3 (Good)
  • Intimidation: 2 (Fair)
  • Athletics: 3 (Good)
  • Perception: 2 (Fair)
  • Stealth: 3 (Good)
  • Survival (Urban): 2 (Fair)
  • Melee Weapons: 5 (Superb)
  • Physical Defense: 3 (Good)
  • Mental Defense: 2 (Fair)
  • Body: 3 (Good)
  • Mind: 2 (Fair)
  • Action Points: 5
  • Load Limit: 6


  • Wine Knowledge: 6 (Fantastic)


  • Oh, trinkets. so many lovely, shiny things.

Personal History

There was a protest.

It doesn't matter what it was for, really, only that it happened. Some idiot from 4chan thought it would be funny to make an effigy of some politician - again, it doesn't really matter.

He stole some wire, an old chain from his grandfather's farmstead, some straw - he wasn't bad with his hands, to tell the truth. Soon, a 6 and a half foot effigy stood faceless in his apartment, some unknowable statement of rebellion against a government he didn't understand. Delighted with his creation, he opened several bottles of wine, got smashed, and left to protest with out even taking the effigy.

It remained there, stinking of red booze, until the landlord came to remove the man's things. He'd died of exposure, trying to walk home on a cold Paris night.

I told you he was an idiot.

The landlord, bemused and disgusted by the effigy, threw it away into the nearby subway tunnel, where it bounced jovially off the tunnel wall and landed face down on the third rail.

It sat for awhile longer.

The chain creaked.

The wire breathed; stretched. A bolt - electric blue - arched across the effigy's face, painting it in a grotesque burnt grin. The eyes - holes with tiny indigo pilot lights in them came after, twisting and cracking the guy's face.

There was a woman on the platform. Long black hair, beautiful green eyes - her eyes made Wicker's thoughts spin - and those pale legs. The Wicker Switch made eye contact with a twist of her head. The effigy blinked both of her new eyes, one at a time, and -

That was her first victim.

Wicker took her watch, fascinated by it's ticking, and moved up the stairs into the night.

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