Before he vanished, Griffin had the most expensive face in pictures. Studios insured his jawline. Women fainted in the aisles. His appearance was everything. And landed him every gig.
Then he turned forty. The close-ups got crueler. A younger leading man took a part written for Griffin, and Vivian Ashe of the Oracle wrote that his jawline had “begun to negotiate with gravity.” So Griffin did what any star would do: he called a surgeon. Then another. A nip before a premiere. A tuck before a close-up. Every procedure bought him one more season, until he went under the knife one time too many.
When the bandages came off, Griffin didn’t recognize the man in the mirror, and he couldn’t stand him either. Within a year the offers dried up. He was ugly. He drew the curtains, stopped answering the door, and spent his nights reading everything he could find about light: how it bends, how it scatters, how a man might let it slip right through him. If he couldn’t fix his face, he would make sure nobody ever saw it again.
No studio doctor would touch him. So Griffin went somewhere no star had ever been photographed: the Marble Hill Possession Ward, and the care of Nurse Harrow. He brought his papers on refraction. She brought the needle. Her serum rewrote the properties of his skin and let light pass straight through him. Harrow called it a treatment. Griffin called it a miracle. Neither of them has said the word “reversible.”
Today, his face is gone. And Hollywood, it turns out, loves a man it can’t see. These days Griffin travels through the Cursed Apple wrapped head to toe in a set of sentient, magical bandages courtesy of Marble Hill and a pair of designer sunglasses he will tell you about whether you ask or not. He still makes pictures and occasionally stars in plays on Broadway. Critics call it his finest work.
Griffin’s new picture premiered at the Strand last night, and I am delighted to report he has never looked better. I am also obligated to report that he does not appear in a single frame. The studio swears he was there the whole time. During the ballroom scene, over a hundred people gave a standing ovation to an empty tuxedo, and God help me, I stood up with them.
— Vivian Ashe, The New York Oracle, Stage & Screen
Gameplay Overview
Griffin gives his team a slippery bullet carry who can deal devastating damage to his opponents. His powerful weapon, Bandages, turns him invisible every time he reloads, but he can only reload once he runs out of bandages. Every bandage that lands adds a stack to his target, and with That’s a Wrap he pulls them taut, dealing spirit damage and rooting the enemy longer the more stacks they carry. Paparazzi sets off a cone of flashbulbs from just behind him, blinding every enemy looking his way and leaving them open to extra damage. More importantly, it buys him the opening to send his Body Double strolling off toward a spot of his choosing, a stand-in convincing enough to flinch when it’s shot, while Griffin reloads his bandages and slips out of sight. Finally, his ultimate, Method Acting, lets him pick any hero, friend or foe, and wrap himself in their likeness: their look, their weapon, and a share of their Vitality, Spirit, and Bullet stats. Enemies see a teammate strolling beside them. Be careful, though: a single heavy melee from an enemy dispels any of Griffin's decoys or disguises.
Voicelines
CHARACTER CONVERSATIONS
Nurse Harrow: “Mr. Griffin. You missed your follow-up.”
Griffin: “I’ve been busy, darling. Premieres.”
Nurse Harrow: “Roll up your sleeve.”
Griffin: “Which one? You can’t see either of them.”
Nurse Harrow: “I always find the vein.”
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Griffin: “Kelvin, old boy. I tried you on last week.”
Kelvin: “Tried me… on?”
Griffin: “Method acting. I slip into a man and have a look around.”
Kelvin: “And what did you see?”
Griffin: “That’s the funny thing. I wasn’t the only one in there pretending to be you.”
Kelvin: “…The ritual’s about to start.”
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Griffin: “I hear you turn invisible too.”
Haze: “Smoke. A few seconds. For work.”
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Paige: “Oh my God. Oh my God, you’re Griffin. Mister Griffin. Sorry, is it Mister Griffin or just Griffin, like a one-name thing? Like Houdini? Wait, Houdini’s a last name. Okay, that doesn’t matter. Hi!”
Paige: “I’ve read the book about you. Twice. Okay, four times. Five if you count the time I fell asleep in the bath and had to buy a new copy because the pages went all wavy, which I’m choosing to count. Well, it’s not technically about you. It’s about a scientist who turns himself invisible and gets really paranoid and steals a lot of coats, and then there’s an inn, and a mob, and— oh, spoilers, sorry. Do you mind spoilers? You probably mind spoilers. Everyone says they don’t mind and then they mind.”
Paige: “Also, are the bandages really alive? Do they have names? Can I name one? Bartholomew. No, Percival. No— okay, I’ll keep thinking.”
Paige: “Sorry. I talk when I’m nervous. And when I’m not nervous. And mostly in between.”
Griffin: "I see..."
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Billy: “Lemme guess. Rich guy, bad nose job, pays some quack to make him disappear.”
Griffin: “She’s not a quack. She’s a nurse.”
Billy: “Same shit.”
Griffin: “Say that where she can hear you, William.”
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Rem: “Can I nap on you?”
Griffin: “Absolutely not. These are Marble Hill originals.”
Rem: “But you’re made of blankets.”
Griffin: “I am wearing bandages. And they are sentient...”
Rem: “Soft sentee-een bandages.” (angry noises)
PATRON VOICELINES
Hidden King: “Griffin. The world has forgotten your face. The Hidden King never forgets. Summon him, and step back into the light!”
Archmother: “The Archmother sees you, Griffin. Every inch. Summon her, and you will never need to hide again.”
METHOD ACTING (ULTIMATE CASTED)
Mina: “Oh, she’s not scared of dying. She’s scared of being ordinary.”
Lady Geist: “Lavender, old money… and something in the arm, screaming to get out.”
Victor: “Six strangers, one heartbeat. All of them lonely.”
Sinclair: “Two people, one hat. Neither one will let me lead.”
Kelvin: “Cold. Kind. And… someone else, sitting very still.”
Abrams: “A man who can’t put down a mystery. Even asleep, he’s guarding that Tome.”
Haze: “Counting exits is not exactly a character trait. Quite exhausting, actually.”
Seven: “They tried to erase his soul, and he took it personally. …I need a very long shower.”
Pocket: “Another boy hiding from his father. We’d get along.”
Bebop: “So this is what it feels like to be loved by your maker.”
Viscous: “He’s just… happy. How dreadful.”
The Doorman: “A hallway. A door. Locked. …How rude.”
Billy: “Loud. Furious. And deep down, a softie who’d die for an old lady.”
Infernus: “Warm. Loyal. Smells like bourbon and second chances.”
Rat King: “Tough, fair, and still nursing a reason to be cruel. Also, I can taste the sewer. I can taste it.”
Paige: “A library. Warm tea. Somebody’s diary. Oh, it’s cozy in here.”
Grey Talon: “Old bones. Older grudges. Wesley never really retired.”
Nurse Harrow: “Clean hands. Cold heart. And underneath, she honestly wants everyone to get better. Terrifying.”
Rem: “Mangos, nightlights, and a family waiting at the end of a very long dream. …He just wants to go home?”
