Roll to Doubt

Two Lost Girls contacts.

Rick has quit drinking, and two weeks before the campaign he flushed the “constant test of will” once in his drawer down the gutter. He always just took the trenchcoat to the cleaner, as it is coffee stain prone, and meets the gang in stay home shirts that are somehow spotless. Rick isn’t the greatest PI in the world, but he tries. He shaves his head bald because dealing with keeping a style is too much. He watches the same films on TV every week. He follows sports, but never roots for his favorite team.

Advancement occurs in Mary’s room. Sketches of black anatomy, crumbled and manic, replace the fading wallpaper. She apologizes for the mess, but you know from her stoic tone that this is protocol and that there’s no regret in seeing you slip on energy drink cans that fuel her research. She asks you to lay on the unsterilized bed, still stained, and you know from a glance that she sleeps on it, unless she spends one hour too long on the study desk. She will undress to not stain her nice clothes but won’t care to put on an apron. She wants blood on the skin, and a mere experiment like yourself is undeserving of modesty. She does not wash her hands before doing her work. What did you come for? A new bone that tingles near spellcasters, an eye that sees heat signals, the face of the most beautiful dog in the world to enchant the Canine Queen? You leave whatever organ capable of regret in her drawer. Your new insides ache to leap out and devour the passerby.

A lost girl type and some duet rules.

The girl lost her compass when it skipped from the pocket, right as she jumped out of the freight train. None of the other girls respects her. They begrudgingly take her on missions. The slasher girls are glad someone lower on the pecking rank flew into the nest with a broken wing. She’s fully normal, funny normal, not a hint of the uncanny. They give her a rusty switchblade and a jacket just a bit torn at the sides. Her bicycle is shit if they don’t make her sit in the car’s bed seat where you can feel each meter of the road. She can’t relate to where she came from but she isn’t wanted even here. The other girls look at her journal but she keeps writing it regardless.

A Regular Girl must have Fair Stealth and Average Charisma minimum. She can start with three special items instead of two, as the gang goaded her into shoplifting it to prove herself. She can’t use weaponry beyond level two. Double her received XP at the end of each mission.  She has a bonus for reaction rolls with anyone that isn’t a lost girl (even a Lady of Sorrow will not hate her on sight). Her assistance to other girls during a roll does not count for the +2 limit.

Instead of a supernatural stress gauge, she has a resource stress gauge of two. The other girls can use her money, she isn’t allowed to buy anything for herself. She would feel terrible doing so. If she suffers a mutation of some sort, she gains a regular supernatural stress gauge as well.

…

In a duet, the solitary player controls a single lost girl.

Instead of the original rules for setting up the gang’s contacts, assume the gang in a duet will have 2 contacts + half the PC’s Charisma (rounded down, no minimum), independent of the other girls’ Charisma. All other gang members are as the PC’s own contacts, and therefore can get obsessed with her. Contacts outside the gang can get obsessed with any girl as usual.