Got the character sheets confused for a moment, ignore what was last here.NeoAC said:
Anyways, i know. My character won't destroy any PC car...quite possibly because she may need a ride somewhere, and she's not stupid enough to break said ride.
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Anyways, i know. My character won't destroy any PC car...quite possibly because she may need a ride somewhere, and she's not stupid enough to break said ride.
Okay, I finally got a sheet up, sorry it took so long, I had trouble coming with with a back story... which I may change. Lemme know if there's anything I can fix.
Name: Chloe "Strawberry" Fields (Her nickname was given to her by her father, she dearly loves the man but finds the nickname embarrassing)
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Appearance: Chloe is fairly tall for her age, with shoulder-length strawberry blond hair usually kept in a long ponytail and green eyes, and also has a few tattoos and piercings. She prefers dressing casually, though the style depnds on her mood. Her current outfit includes a red plaid skirt, a black tank top underneath a green army-style jacket decorated with buttons/patches/pins, thigh-high black leather boots and matching belts.
Personality: Energetic, loud, and excitable with an infectious personality, Chloe is a party girl through and through. She hates seeing others upset and will go out of hey way to cheer them up, whether they like it or not. She always seems to be active, whether it's playing guitar, having fun at a party or whatever, she seems to hate downtime and would much rather be doing something than doing nothing. She has experimented with drugs a bit, but so far it doesn't seem to be doing much for her, considering she's already full of energy as it is. Rather immature, Chloe would much rather avoid serious tasks and would rather have fun, which may lead to her downfall own of these days.
Special Talents: Is a decent singer/guitar player and knows a variety of art techniques (though her preferred method is graffiti). She is fairly athletic and is currently interested in learning free-running/parkour, and knows a few self-defense arts.
Biography: Born to a British musician father and an American art teacher mother, Lauren's life was pretty good, all things considered. She was a it spoiled in her younger years, but as she grew older, she developed more of an independent streak, albeit just so she could do whatever she pleased. As soon as she finished high school, Chloe moved to Billoardsville to seek her fortune.
However, it wasn't as easy as she thought. She managed to get a job working at a record/book store, but tended to blow her money on frivolous things. Pretty soon, she fell in with the wrong crowd, the Royals, in fact. Chloe was nothing more than a tagalong for one of the top lieutenants of the gang, and found that being to do whatever she pleased quite enjoyable.
However, this lifestyle would have lead to a sticky end, had not fate intervened. One night after a drunken party, Chloe came across her boyfriend making but with another girl. This lead to an enraged Chloe getting into a confrontation with the guy, who threw her out on the streets. Without anywhere to go and rather desperate, Chloe attempted to a rob a nearby pedestrian, who just so happened to be Granny Sinclair. The old woman was not so easily taken down, but saw the girl was desperate, s she offered Chloe a place to stay.
Now Chloe is works with the Sinclairs, hoping t take back the streets from the other gangs, and maybe have a bit of fun doing it.
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Appearance: Chloe is fairly tall for her age, with shoulder-length strawberry blond hair usually kept in a long ponytail and green eyes, and also has a few tattoos and piercings. She prefers dressing casually, though the style depnds on her mood. Her current outfit includes a red plaid skirt, a black tank top underneath a green army-style jacket decorated with buttons/patches/pins, thigh-high black leather boots and matching belts.
Personality: Energetic, loud, and excitable with an infectious personality, Chloe is a party girl through and through. She hates seeing others upset and will go out of hey way to cheer them up, whether they like it or not. She always seems to be active, whether it's playing guitar, having fun at a party or whatever, she seems to hate downtime and would much rather be doing something than doing nothing. She has experimented with drugs a bit, but so far it doesn't seem to be doing much for her, considering she's already full of energy as it is. Rather immature, Chloe would much rather avoid serious tasks and would rather have fun, which may lead to her downfall own of these days.
Special Talents: Is a decent singer/guitar player and knows a variety of art techniques (though her preferred method is graffiti). She is fairly athletic and is currently interested in learning free-running/parkour, and knows a few self-defense arts.
Biography: Born to a British musician father and an American art teacher mother, Lauren's life was pretty good, all things considered. She was a it spoiled in her younger years, but as she grew older, she developed more of an independent streak, albeit just so she could do whatever she pleased. As soon as she finished high school, Chloe moved to Billoardsville to seek her fortune.
However, it wasn't as easy as she thought. She managed to get a job working at a record/book store, but tended to blow her money on frivolous things. Pretty soon, she fell in with the wrong crowd, the Royals, in fact. Chloe was nothing more than a tagalong for one of the top lieutenants of the gang, and found that being to do whatever she pleased quite enjoyable.
However, this lifestyle would have lead to a sticky end, had not fate intervened. One night after a drunken party, Chloe came across her boyfriend making but with another girl. This lead to an enraged Chloe getting into a confrontation with the guy, who threw her out on the streets. Without anywhere to go and rather desperate, Chloe attempted to a rob a nearby pedestrian, who just so happened to be Granny Sinclair. The old woman was not so easily taken down, but saw the girl was desperate, s she offered Chloe a place to stay.
Now Chloe is works with the Sinclairs, hoping t take back the streets from the other gangs, and maybe have a bit of fun doing it.
Yup! Ties with the family is strongly encouraged.Athol said:
That being said, here's the sheet for my player character, Deegan!
Name: Deegan James "Deej" Morrison
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Appearance: Let's not beat around the bush here, Deegan is short. He's about 5 feet 4 inches, and about 110 pounds soaking wet. If you couldn't guess by his weight, he's also fairly skinny. His shoulders are weirdly broad for his size, though. He's got light brown skin, dark brown eyes, and black hair full of big, bouncy curls. Mostly wears colorful t-shirts, baggy khakis and cargos, and hi-tops. He wears a purple rosary around his neck, to remember his late brother by.
Personality: Deegan is impulsive. Likes to live in the moment, and will literally not think before he leaps. The death of his brother had made him reckless, much to the dismay of his parents. It also doesn't take much to excite him. He likes to run, but towards the fray, instead of away from it. He's a risk taker, just like his grandmother. He'll try anything once.
Special Talent(s): I'll be honest, Deegan isn't the sharpest brick in the masonry. But, the kid's got heart. He fights for his friends n' all that. He's a scrappy little fellow; pretty good at using his fists and feet. Due to his short stature and light weight, he can be very agile and flexible. He takes the expression "bouncing off the walls" in a very literal sense. He can get on a taller person's shoulder's in one leap.
Biography: Somewhere in the late nineties, the eldest daughter of the Sinclaire clan, Sierra, wanted to get out of the family business. With the promise of grandchildren, Shirley gracefully respected her decisions. True to her word, Sierra confirmed she was carrying twins by the end of the year. Twin boys, to be in fact. Deegan came out first, his brother Benji followed after. The family lived out most of the boy's young lives in Billboardsville, long before the issue of emerging gangs arose. The twins were inseparable during growth, brothers through and through.
As they reached middle school age, a Spanish gang known as the Conquistadors were slowly making themselves known in the Howie Towers housing complex just a block or so away from their house. The introduction of the gang made it a challenge to get from school and back on many occasion, but the two managed to get by. Except for one day. Benji was wearing blue one day, a color associated with one of the other established gangs, the Royals. Passing through Howie Towers, the two were confronted by about four older males, all brandishing some form of yellow on their persons.
One asked an expected question, "You a Royal?" They barely had any time to answer before they were assaulted. A flurry of fists, feet, bats, and knuckle dusters were brought upon the brothers. And even as they fought, it was clear the odds were stacked against them. And as Benji slipped into unconscious, his face bloodied and torn, an imposing figure of a man stepped through the crowd. The man, covered in tattoos, had a long yellow cloth covering his mouth. Deegan, equally mangled and driven by blinding rage, rushed towards the man, only to be driven into the concrete by the massive man's boot. "Tell your people of what occurred here today. Hate me if you must." And hate him he did. As the man kicked him away, he reached for Benji, holding him forth by the neck, like her just won a trophy. "This one...he will be the first." Down the line Deegan learned that the man was one of the Conquistador's lieutenants, called himself the "Matador". He never forgot that moment, and of the anger that stemmed from it.
He brought the news to his mother, injured, angry, ashamed. Distraught, and with no help from the police, Sierra collected her things, and moved from the city as fast as she could, with Deegan in tow. Three years later, and fresh out of high school, he received a call from his aunt, with the promise of making money working with his grandma. He didn't need another reason to come out, he saw this as an opportunity to get back at the Conquistadors or die trying. So he headed back to Billboardsville, scowling all along the way.
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Appearance: Let's not beat around the bush here, Deegan is short. He's about 5 feet 4 inches, and about 110 pounds soaking wet. If you couldn't guess by his weight, he's also fairly skinny. His shoulders are weirdly broad for his size, though. He's got light brown skin, dark brown eyes, and black hair full of big, bouncy curls. Mostly wears colorful t-shirts, baggy khakis and cargos, and hi-tops. He wears a purple rosary around his neck, to remember his late brother by.
Personality: Deegan is impulsive. Likes to live in the moment, and will literally not think before he leaps. The death of his brother had made him reckless, much to the dismay of his parents. It also doesn't take much to excite him. He likes to run, but towards the fray, instead of away from it. He's a risk taker, just like his grandmother. He'll try anything once.
Special Talent(s): I'll be honest, Deegan isn't the sharpest brick in the masonry. But, the kid's got heart. He fights for his friends n' all that. He's a scrappy little fellow; pretty good at using his fists and feet. Due to his short stature and light weight, he can be very agile and flexible. He takes the expression "bouncing off the walls" in a very literal sense. He can get on a taller person's shoulder's in one leap.
Biography: Somewhere in the late nineties, the eldest daughter of the Sinclaire clan, Sierra, wanted to get out of the family business. With the promise of grandchildren, Shirley gracefully respected her decisions. True to her word, Sierra confirmed she was carrying twins by the end of the year. Twin boys, to be in fact. Deegan came out first, his brother Benji followed after. The family lived out most of the boy's young lives in Billboardsville, long before the issue of emerging gangs arose. The twins were inseparable during growth, brothers through and through.
As they reached middle school age, a Spanish gang known as the Conquistadors were slowly making themselves known in the Howie Towers housing complex just a block or so away from their house. The introduction of the gang made it a challenge to get from school and back on many occasion, but the two managed to get by. Except for one day. Benji was wearing blue one day, a color associated with one of the other established gangs, the Royals. Passing through Howie Towers, the two were confronted by about four older males, all brandishing some form of yellow on their persons.
One asked an expected question, "You a Royal?" They barely had any time to answer before they were assaulted. A flurry of fists, feet, bats, and knuckle dusters were brought upon the brothers. And even as they fought, it was clear the odds were stacked against them. And as Benji slipped into unconscious, his face bloodied and torn, an imposing figure of a man stepped through the crowd. The man, covered in tattoos, had a long yellow cloth covering his mouth. Deegan, equally mangled and driven by blinding rage, rushed towards the man, only to be driven into the concrete by the massive man's boot. "Tell your people of what occurred here today. Hate me if you must." And hate him he did. As the man kicked him away, he reached for Benji, holding him forth by the neck, like her just won a trophy. "This one...he will be the first." Down the line Deegan learned that the man was one of the Conquistador's lieutenants, called himself the "Matador". He never forgot that moment, and of the anger that stemmed from it.
He brought the news to his mother, injured, angry, ashamed. Distraught, and with no help from the police, Sierra collected her things, and moved from the city as fast as she could, with Deegan in tow. Three years later, and fresh out of high school, he received a call from his aunt, with the promise of making money working with his grandma. He didn't need another reason to come out, he saw this as an opportunity to get back at the Conquistadors or die trying. So he headed back to Billboardsville, scowling all along the way.
Name: Shanel Sinclaire
Age: 33
Gender: Female
Appearance: Chanel is short, big-assed, and busty, with skin the color of thin, weakass tea, and dresses between the "streetwalking tramp" and the "slutty soccer mom" range. She's quite hot, but she just oozes cheap sexuality, and is most likely riddled with herpes.
Personality: She's a skank.
Special Talent(s): She looks like she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose and give the best handjobs in Da Nang. Besides those particular abilities she's an extremely fast runner, very good at hiding and getting in and out of places without being seen.
Biography: Do you want her history before or after she was registered as a sex offender?
Age: 33
Gender: Female
Appearance: Chanel is short, big-assed, and busty, with skin the color of thin, weakass tea, and dresses between the "streetwalking tramp" and the "slutty soccer mom" range. She's quite hot, but she just oozes cheap sexuality, and is most likely riddled with herpes.
Personality: She's a skank.
Special Talent(s): She looks like she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose and give the best handjobs in Da Nang. Besides those particular abilities she's an extremely fast runner, very good at hiding and getting in and out of places without being seen.
Biography: Do you want her history before or after she was registered as a sex offender?
Name: Millicent 'Sweet Molly' O'Brien
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Appearance: As she likes to say, if you looked up the textbook definition of an Irish redhead, it'd just be a picture of her. Tall at 5'10", slender and fair skinned, her emerald green eyes are framed by a shoulder length crop of curly red hair that she usually keeps in a ponytail (with varying degrees of success). Clothing wise she tends to stick to clothes that are non-descript, and good for concealing any weapons she may be carrying.
Personality: Most of the time Milli is a boisterous and cheerful person, always up for a party, a drink, or a brawl. In a serious fight though she can be downright vicious, caring little for such things as 'collateral damage'...the target is the only priority.
Special Talent(s):
Block by block: Extensive instruction by her mother has taught her all anyone would ever want to know about fighting in a city.
One for the road: She like to claim it's because of her Irish heritage, but for whatever the reason, she has a phenomenal alcohol tolerance.
Biography: A local born girl to the core, it was pretty much a given that Milli would've ended up involved in Billboardsville's underworld; especially when her parent aren't exactly the law abiding types. Thomas O'Brien, her father, was born and raised in Boston, and due to familial connections ended up as a well regarded facilitator of arms and capital from supporters in America, to the IRA in Ireland. Milli's mother, Eva Browne, was a soldier of the IRA who was lying low in the US after she caught wind of an SAS 'kill' order being placed on her head.
Hiding out with IRA sympathisers in Boston, Eva was quickly introduced to Thomas, and the two hit it off rather well. Unfortunately for them the politics shifted in Ireland, and the need for arms diminished, while at the same time the FBI began really cracking down on the support structure in America. Unable to safely leave the country, they moved to the one city in the US where they knew nobody would ask too many questions... Billboardsville.
Shortly after arriving in the city, Thomas and Eva were approached by the Sinclaire Family, and offered jobs and a place to live...the Family may have lost ground in recent years, but they still knew a valuable asset when they saw one.
This is the life that Milli was born into. Her father used the contacts he'd made, here and abroad, to keep the Family well equipped, and her mother provided services as muscle for some of the Family's riskier 'business' deals, and as an instructor for the 'troops' on the ground. While going to school, and getting her grade 12, Milli was also taught the finer points of urban combat, hand-to-hand fighting and ambush warfare by her mother; the more business-like aspect of arms dealing, Thomas taught to Shaun, Milli's younger brother, as he'd shown much more interest in it than Milli ever did.
Notes: She generally carries a CZ 75 9mm pistol, and a boot knife at all times. For 'special occasions' she keeps a Mossberg 500 12 gauge shotgun, and an AK-74U hidden in the trunk of her car; a tan, slightly rusted, '80 Mercedes-Benz 300 Turbo Diesel sedan.
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Appearance: As she likes to say, if you looked up the textbook definition of an Irish redhead, it'd just be a picture of her. Tall at 5'10", slender and fair skinned, her emerald green eyes are framed by a shoulder length crop of curly red hair that she usually keeps in a ponytail (with varying degrees of success). Clothing wise she tends to stick to clothes that are non-descript, and good for concealing any weapons she may be carrying.
Personality: Most of the time Milli is a boisterous and cheerful person, always up for a party, a drink, or a brawl. In a serious fight though she can be downright vicious, caring little for such things as 'collateral damage'...the target is the only priority.
Special Talent(s):
Block by block: Extensive instruction by her mother has taught her all anyone would ever want to know about fighting in a city.
One for the road: She like to claim it's because of her Irish heritage, but for whatever the reason, she has a phenomenal alcohol tolerance.
Biography: A local born girl to the core, it was pretty much a given that Milli would've ended up involved in Billboardsville's underworld; especially when her parent aren't exactly the law abiding types. Thomas O'Brien, her father, was born and raised in Boston, and due to familial connections ended up as a well regarded facilitator of arms and capital from supporters in America, to the IRA in Ireland. Milli's mother, Eva Browne, was a soldier of the IRA who was lying low in the US after she caught wind of an SAS 'kill' order being placed on her head.
Hiding out with IRA sympathisers in Boston, Eva was quickly introduced to Thomas, and the two hit it off rather well. Unfortunately for them the politics shifted in Ireland, and the need for arms diminished, while at the same time the FBI began really cracking down on the support structure in America. Unable to safely leave the country, they moved to the one city in the US where they knew nobody would ask too many questions... Billboardsville.
Shortly after arriving in the city, Thomas and Eva were approached by the Sinclaire Family, and offered jobs and a place to live...the Family may have lost ground in recent years, but they still knew a valuable asset when they saw one.
This is the life that Milli was born into. Her father used the contacts he'd made, here and abroad, to keep the Family well equipped, and her mother provided services as muscle for some of the Family's riskier 'business' deals, and as an instructor for the 'troops' on the ground. While going to school, and getting her grade 12, Milli was also taught the finer points of urban combat, hand-to-hand fighting and ambush warfare by her mother; the more business-like aspect of arms dealing, Thomas taught to Shaun, Milli's younger brother, as he'd shown much more interest in it than Milli ever did.
Notes: She generally carries a CZ 75 9mm pistol, and a boot knife at all times. For 'special occasions' she keeps a Mossberg 500 12 gauge shotgun, and an AK-74U hidden in the trunk of her car; a tan, slightly rusted, '80 Mercedes-Benz 300 Turbo Diesel sedan.
Alright! Let's see here. We's got:
For a total of ten whole characters (excluding mine)! That's...the exact number I was looking for! I'm still gonna leave the RP open just in case anyone wants to hop in down the line, but for now I am extremely satisfied with this turn out; thank you all! To be honest it was suggested that I pick and choose the people to get in, but I've played with (and at least seen) most of you in action and I know I can count on at least most of y'all. (That, and it's not like I got a overwhelming turnout, so there's that.) So i'm gonna take a risk, and keep you all in. Shouldn't be too bad right?
With that said, i'm most likely gonna make a Skype group for this. It's easier to keep tabs and discuss things in a group than it is on The Escapist. I already have six of youse as friends already, so, Ruedyn, Cuhrazy, figsly, Athol, you guys should totes get Skype if you don't already have it. If you have Windows 8 holy fuck do not get the one made for it because it is so bad. I'll provide a link for simplicity's sake. Make sure to get "Skype for Windows desktop" and not "Skype for modern Windows".
Next, our resident Canadian, Neo, is crossing American borders this weekend, and I was planning on holding off until, say...Sunday night-Monday Afternoon to launch the RP. Unless he finds a way to find time to post in between now n' then.
Name: Tiffany 'Tiff' Brown.
Age: 16 (but that's, like, totally old enough to drink, right?).
Gender: Female.
Appearance:
5'9" (6'1" in heels), with waist-length light brown hair and skin that never goes more than a week without a trip to the tanning salon. A pretty face with a prettier smile, and baby-blue eyes.
Tiff's wardrobe is mainly made up of skirts, none of which reach her knees. Her go-to outfit is a black skirt with a subtle silvery spider-web pattern, coupled with a white women's dress shirt (top buttons undone, naturally), 4-inch black heels and, occasionally, a black tie (she has a thing for ties; don?t ask).
Her figure more or less embodies the phrase 'jailbait', and she's all too aware of it.
Personality:
In a nutshell: Tiff is spoiled, but ironically quite generous. She's used to things going her way (either by 'persuading' the relevant parties or just by having her wealthy parents fix it), but she sees no reason not to share that success with others. She views life as a never-ending party, and the more the merrier. It's almost childish how much she thinks she can get away with (she's not wrong though), but it's usually to hang out and party with other people, not to be by herself. As such very few people would say they respect her, but almost everybody likes her.
Her being spoiled means she's usually quite lazy, but that's not to say she's outright stupid. She just has a good eye for the easiest solutions, and (ironically) doesn't mind getting her hands dirty to use them. She doesn't smoke, but she is quite fond of the occasional bit of weed. And alcohol. And ketamine.
She's a bit of a party-animal, is what we're saying.
Talents:
- While Tiff always prefers a chauffeur to driving herself, she does actually own a drivers license and knows how to drive a stick.
- A kind person would describe Tiff as an 'accomplished charmer'. A less kind person would say she's gone down on her geography teacher for better grades. Either way, her allure is hard to resist, and she's not afraid to use it.
- Oh, and she can suppress her gag-reflex. Jus' sayin'.
Biography:
Tiffany was born the daughter of an architect father and media mogul mother (I love alliteration). She's never been short on money, or? anything for that matter. Clothes, parties, and friends who were highly eager to share them. She doesn't have too many plans for the future, but then she hardly needs to.
Among Tiff's girlfriends, she was the first to lose her virginity and frankly, nobody was surprised. She's been sneaking into clubs since she was 14 and her parents just don't care. They're both very busy with work and have more or less let her go wild with her allowance since she was 12.
This has not made her well-adjusted. Or mature. Or? much of anything other than an overly endowed, overly eager kid with a wallet as big as her desires. But at least she's nice about it.
Age: 16 (but that's, like, totally old enough to drink, right?).
Gender: Female.
Appearance:
5'9" (6'1" in heels), with waist-length light brown hair and skin that never goes more than a week without a trip to the tanning salon. A pretty face with a prettier smile, and baby-blue eyes.
Tiff's wardrobe is mainly made up of skirts, none of which reach her knees. Her go-to outfit is a black skirt with a subtle silvery spider-web pattern, coupled with a white women's dress shirt (top buttons undone, naturally), 4-inch black heels and, occasionally, a black tie (she has a thing for ties; don?t ask).
Her figure more or less embodies the phrase 'jailbait', and she's all too aware of it.
Personality:
In a nutshell: Tiff is spoiled, but ironically quite generous. She's used to things going her way (either by 'persuading' the relevant parties or just by having her wealthy parents fix it), but she sees no reason not to share that success with others. She views life as a never-ending party, and the more the merrier. It's almost childish how much she thinks she can get away with (she's not wrong though), but it's usually to hang out and party with other people, not to be by herself. As such very few people would say they respect her, but almost everybody likes her.
Her being spoiled means she's usually quite lazy, but that's not to say she's outright stupid. She just has a good eye for the easiest solutions, and (ironically) doesn't mind getting her hands dirty to use them. She doesn't smoke, but she is quite fond of the occasional bit of weed. And alcohol. And ketamine.
She's a bit of a party-animal, is what we're saying.
Talents:
- While Tiff always prefers a chauffeur to driving herself, she does actually own a drivers license and knows how to drive a stick.
- A kind person would describe Tiff as an 'accomplished charmer'. A less kind person would say she's gone down on her geography teacher for better grades. Either way, her allure is hard to resist, and she's not afraid to use it.
- Oh, and she can suppress her gag-reflex. Jus' sayin'.
Biography:
Tiffany was born the daughter of an architect father and media mogul mother (I love alliteration). She's never been short on money, or? anything for that matter. Clothes, parties, and friends who were highly eager to share them. She doesn't have too many plans for the future, but then she hardly needs to.
Among Tiff's girlfriends, she was the first to lose her virginity and frankly, nobody was surprised. She's been sneaking into clubs since she was 14 and her parents just don't care. They're both very busy with work and have more or less let her go wild with her allowance since she was 12.
This has not made her well-adjusted. Or mature. Or? much of anything other than an overly endowed, overly eager kid with a wallet as big as her desires. But at least she's nice about it.
Name: "Diamond" Daryna Makarenko
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Appearance: Daryna looks like exactly what you expect when you pay for a woman through the mail. She had a fit body, skinny but properly endowed. She stands 5'10", with shoulder blade length golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes that have regained some sparkle during her time in America. There is a tattoo on her left shoulder opposite her heart of the Ukrainian trident coat of arms.
Her ears both have blue diamond earrings studded in, and she has a silver chain with a white diamond dangling on it. She's usually wearing a sky blue sleeveless v-cut t-shirt that ends above her navel, a pair of blue jeans accessorized with a tan leather belt complete with silver belt bucket with a sky blue stone in the center of the engraved flower, and black pumps that cost more then her parent's house ($400).
Personality: Initially shy and frightened when she arrived in Billboardsville, Daryna has blossomed into a very confident woman about town. She is not afraid to show off her wealth, hence her nickname, and any attempts to extract extra money from her have been met with some solid boots to the head. Despite her still heavily accented and sometimes still fractured English, she has the ability to turn on the charm when needed, and can often play like that lost little girl she was a few years ago. While thankful for the opportunity to have made something of herself, inside she is still driven by the desire to have her revenge on those who took her from her homeland and brought her here. While the money is fun to splash about and gives off a nice cover image, in the end, it is a means to her goal.
Special Talent(s): She's got that really sexy accent, legs as strong as steel and a fair amount of cash. Other then that, nothing really special.
Biography: Daryna was born in Rovenky, Ukraine, the daughter of a miner and a homemaker and the oldest of three children. Her family was poor, but her father raised her and her two brothers as best he could. Sadly he wasn't that good at it. She still enjoyed her life in her country, and she spent a lot of time playing soccer outside with the other children, but when he wasn't down in the mines, her father was always out at the taverns, drinking and gambling away whatever money they had. Then, in one night, he gambled away his daughter.
When she was 16, two men came to the tiny house, saying that Viktor had bet Daryna with three jacks and lost it to a 10 high straight. Daryna protested and tried to fight the burly goons, but there wasn't much resistance her family could put up. She was held in a storage facility across the border on the outskirts of Rostov, and finally sold to Dmitry Bashkirov, a lower level lieutenant with the Russian gang in Billboardsville.
The marriage certificate was signed C.o.D., with Daryna's signature forged. Daryna only found this out upon arrival and Dmitry strong armed her down to his apartment on the waterfront. He brought her out onto the balcony and promised to treat her right and show her America offered her more then her previous life. Then he proceeded to throw her down on the sun chair and forcefully try to consummate the marriage. Daryna protested but Dmitry was having none of it. Then Daryna found a new variation of football to play. The boot to the nuts was so forceful, Dmitry tumbled backwards, falling off the balcony and plunging 14 stories down, crashing on top of a cotton candy cart.
When the cops came, Daryna tried to explain what happened but Ukrainian mixed with fragments of English was no way to properly explain things. The cops made their own conclusions: that Dmitri was drunk and fell off. Much less paperwork. And as his newly minted wife, Daryna inherited everything: the waterfront property, his bank account, his car, everything. The Russians weren't happy with Dmitry's folly, but there wasn't much they could do. Daryna put them at ease for the moment, but she did that to cover up her true desire: to get revenge on the Russians for kidnapping her and shipping her away against her will. She's spent the past four years building up her connections in the city, investing in a couple of businesses and spending Dmitry's cash to give herself the lifestyle she always thought she deserved, while still training and plotting to eliminate the Russians for good.
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Appearance: Daryna looks like exactly what you expect when you pay for a woman through the mail. She had a fit body, skinny but properly endowed. She stands 5'10", with shoulder blade length golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes that have regained some sparkle during her time in America. There is a tattoo on her left shoulder opposite her heart of the Ukrainian trident coat of arms.
Her ears both have blue diamond earrings studded in, and she has a silver chain with a white diamond dangling on it. She's usually wearing a sky blue sleeveless v-cut t-shirt that ends above her navel, a pair of blue jeans accessorized with a tan leather belt complete with silver belt bucket with a sky blue stone in the center of the engraved flower, and black pumps that cost more then her parent's house ($400).
Personality: Initially shy and frightened when she arrived in Billboardsville, Daryna has blossomed into a very confident woman about town. She is not afraid to show off her wealth, hence her nickname, and any attempts to extract extra money from her have been met with some solid boots to the head. Despite her still heavily accented and sometimes still fractured English, she has the ability to turn on the charm when needed, and can often play like that lost little girl she was a few years ago. While thankful for the opportunity to have made something of herself, inside she is still driven by the desire to have her revenge on those who took her from her homeland and brought her here. While the money is fun to splash about and gives off a nice cover image, in the end, it is a means to her goal.
Special Talent(s): She's got that really sexy accent, legs as strong as steel and a fair amount of cash. Other then that, nothing really special.
Biography: Daryna was born in Rovenky, Ukraine, the daughter of a miner and a homemaker and the oldest of three children. Her family was poor, but her father raised her and her two brothers as best he could. Sadly he wasn't that good at it. She still enjoyed her life in her country, and she spent a lot of time playing soccer outside with the other children, but when he wasn't down in the mines, her father was always out at the taverns, drinking and gambling away whatever money they had. Then, in one night, he gambled away his daughter.
When she was 16, two men came to the tiny house, saying that Viktor had bet Daryna with three jacks and lost it to a 10 high straight. Daryna protested and tried to fight the burly goons, but there wasn't much resistance her family could put up. She was held in a storage facility across the border on the outskirts of Rostov, and finally sold to Dmitry Bashkirov, a lower level lieutenant with the Russian gang in Billboardsville.
The marriage certificate was signed C.o.D., with Daryna's signature forged. Daryna only found this out upon arrival and Dmitry strong armed her down to his apartment on the waterfront. He brought her out onto the balcony and promised to treat her right and show her America offered her more then her previous life. Then he proceeded to throw her down on the sun chair and forcefully try to consummate the marriage. Daryna protested but Dmitry was having none of it. Then Daryna found a new variation of football to play. The boot to the nuts was so forceful, Dmitry tumbled backwards, falling off the balcony and plunging 14 stories down, crashing on top of a cotton candy cart.
When the cops came, Daryna tried to explain what happened but Ukrainian mixed with fragments of English was no way to properly explain things. The cops made their own conclusions: that Dmitri was drunk and fell off. Much less paperwork. And as his newly minted wife, Daryna inherited everything: the waterfront property, his bank account, his car, everything. The Russians weren't happy with Dmitry's folly, but there wasn't much they could do. Daryna put them at ease for the moment, but she did that to cover up her true desire: to get revenge on the Russians for kidnapping her and shipping her away against her will. She's spent the past four years building up her connections in the city, investing in a couple of businesses and spending Dmitry's cash to give herself the lifestyle she always thought she deserved, while still training and plotting to eliminate the Russians for good.
Name: Raul Eld, "Saintly"
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Appearance: Blessed with a big frame, but too dumb to do much with it, Raul stands at 6'3 with a lean frame. Aside from his size and eyes he got from his Swedish mother, he mostly takes after his Spanish father. He has short curly hair and trimmed beard he's immensely proud of. He has green eyes that look like murky ponds behind a pair of thin rimmed glasses, with a sleepy look to them no matter what he's doing.
Raul's off time wardrobe isn't exactly widely varied, and it's quite clear he really likes wears dark colors. On the job, he always has a generic looking dark red hoodie, a pair of old, worn and torn black jeans, and a pair of work boots and gloves. He has a pretty bland suit for formal occasions, his only tie being a pink one.
Personality: Raul is a dopey bastard, with a nickname that only makes sense if you know the story behind it. He doesn't care much about afterlife, he's all about living in the moment. Most would say cause he can't remember yesterday and the future's looking bleak. Not that you'd catch the ever optimistic Saintly saying anything like that, though. He's a friendly sort, mercifully quiet compared to most fast talking, petty blue collar crooks. He has a poker face weaker than wet tissue and feels bad after lying, so if he goes eerily quiet it's likely something in his pocket doesn't belong to him. He dislikes drugs and booze, but most think he's on them all the time anyways so it's fine.
Special Talent(s): Saintly is good at getting into things people would rather he stay out of. Picking locks and pockets is practically a hobby, and he's stolen a car or dozen in his career. He's a decent climber, and has ran marathons in jeans before.
As far as combat goes, he prefers an up close and personal approach. Guns are all well and good, and he does sometimes carry a pistol, but bats are where it's at, man. Or really just anything blunt that he can smack people with, but generally baseball bats or crowbars.
Biography: Raul Eld has a life story that could be followed pretty easy through police reports. His mom ran off with a loan shark, they had a whirlwind affair that ended with a little kiddo and a very dead dad, courtesy of the Latin Kings. He went to school, but didn't do too well. Still, he made friends and a name for himself defending people from bullies, essentially becoming the bully of the bullies. Which would be all well and good if it stuck to within school limits, and used his bare hands. He had to switch schools often.
By the 8th grade, he'd more or less accepted he was a little shit. Luckily, he was quick to make friends in detention! He gained a few skills this way, learning and practicing in his off time. He even had competitions with his fellow sociopathic budding criminals, see who could break into the most houses in a night, lift the most wallets in a mall, draw the biggest phallic symbol on the wall in school. To celebrate getting a license, he took a car from his mom's employer.
Had his first experience with drugs that way, too, and gained his nickname in the same night! He can't exactly remember, but apparently he took something and wandered off. When they found him, he was in a burning church screaming about demon slaying, waving a golf club at a very scared deacon. They managed to get him out before fire marshals showed up, and they all kept accidentally murdering a church official secret, though rumors spread and Raul got a nickname.
Now, he returns to his mom's home town at the behest of... someone he's never fucking met. Raul's considers this a fresh start, maybe try going back to the being the good...-ish guy like in elementary school. Beats living pocket by pocket in California, anyways. Even if he technically lives in a box right now...
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Appearance: Blessed with a big frame, but too dumb to do much with it, Raul stands at 6'3 with a lean frame. Aside from his size and eyes he got from his Swedish mother, he mostly takes after his Spanish father. He has short curly hair and trimmed beard he's immensely proud of. He has green eyes that look like murky ponds behind a pair of thin rimmed glasses, with a sleepy look to them no matter what he's doing.
Raul's off time wardrobe isn't exactly widely varied, and it's quite clear he really likes wears dark colors. On the job, he always has a generic looking dark red hoodie, a pair of old, worn and torn black jeans, and a pair of work boots and gloves. He has a pretty bland suit for formal occasions, his only tie being a pink one.
Personality: Raul is a dopey bastard, with a nickname that only makes sense if you know the story behind it. He doesn't care much about afterlife, he's all about living in the moment. Most would say cause he can't remember yesterday and the future's looking bleak. Not that you'd catch the ever optimistic Saintly saying anything like that, though. He's a friendly sort, mercifully quiet compared to most fast talking, petty blue collar crooks. He has a poker face weaker than wet tissue and feels bad after lying, so if he goes eerily quiet it's likely something in his pocket doesn't belong to him. He dislikes drugs and booze, but most think he's on them all the time anyways so it's fine.
Special Talent(s): Saintly is good at getting into things people would rather he stay out of. Picking locks and pockets is practically a hobby, and he's stolen a car or dozen in his career. He's a decent climber, and has ran marathons in jeans before.
As far as combat goes, he prefers an up close and personal approach. Guns are all well and good, and he does sometimes carry a pistol, but bats are where it's at, man. Or really just anything blunt that he can smack people with, but generally baseball bats or crowbars.
Biography: Raul Eld has a life story that could be followed pretty easy through police reports. His mom ran off with a loan shark, they had a whirlwind affair that ended with a little kiddo and a very dead dad, courtesy of the Latin Kings. He went to school, but didn't do too well. Still, he made friends and a name for himself defending people from bullies, essentially becoming the bully of the bullies. Which would be all well and good if it stuck to within school limits, and used his bare hands. He had to switch schools often.
By the 8th grade, he'd more or less accepted he was a little shit. Luckily, he was quick to make friends in detention! He gained a few skills this way, learning and practicing in his off time. He even had competitions with his fellow sociopathic budding criminals, see who could break into the most houses in a night, lift the most wallets in a mall, draw the biggest phallic symbol on the wall in school. To celebrate getting a license, he took a car from his mom's employer.
Had his first experience with drugs that way, too, and gained his nickname in the same night! He can't exactly remember, but apparently he took something and wandered off. When they found him, he was in a burning church screaming about demon slaying, waving a golf club at a very scared deacon. They managed to get him out before fire marshals showed up, and they all kept accidentally murdering a church official secret, though rumors spread and Raul got a nickname.
Now, he returns to his mom's home town at the behest of... someone he's never fucking met. Raul's considers this a fresh start, maybe try going back to the being the good...-ish guy like in elementary school. Beats living pocket by pocket in California, anyways. Even if he technically lives in a box right now...
Name: Drifter
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance: Drifter isn't that physically imposing but that serves him quite well as thugs see him as the last person to go completely psycho on them. He's 5'9, skinny and frail-looking with a perpetually blank expression. He's got wavy, dirty-blonde hair that he keeps combing impulsively. His skin is as pale as the moon with deep grey eyes that seem to try and jump out of his head at every waking second. Drifter's face would be baby smooth if it wasn't for a scar running up his neck to the right side of his face.
Drifter keeps it simple with a motor-oil stained, white shirt, dirty jeans and heavy boots on his feet. He does wear a pretty sweet leather jack that he wears wherever he goes. Its got a little bit of everything on it and its leather luster is a bit worn but an impressive lion is emblazoned on the back.
Personality: Drifter is silent and mostly keeps to himself. He isn't shy but he just tries to keep people at arm's length at all times. Because of this, Drifter is very mysterious and reserved. What personality he does have he shows through his fighting or his driving skills. He feels truly at peace when he is in his car and/or driving.
Drifter also loves driving, even if there is no point to it. Many a nights has Drifter driven for the heck of it. The only thing that Drifter loves on this Earth is the sensation of driving and his prized 1970 Chevrolet Nova [http://th03.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/019/3/f/stuntman_mike_s_new_nova_by_kyleandtheclassics-d6ijamf.jpg] that he built from the wheels up. He affectionately calls the car "Cherry". If anything or anyone touches remotely damages his car the more unhinged he gets. The same goes for insulting the car as well.
Special Talent(s): You got a vehicle needs driving? Well Drifter can drive it and then some. He's an amazing mechanic and he can drive his "death-proof" car into just about anything without hurting him or his companions. Also did I mention he can drive because this guy can drive. He can close both his eyes and still win a street race with his car.
Drifter is also notoriously tough. A car accident severed some of his nerve endings and to any other man, that would be crippling but with Drifter it made his pain tolerance unusually high. Punch him all you want but Drifter won't even bat an eye.
In terms of combat, Drifter sticks with a titanium claw hammer. You'd ask him why until you see the damage he can do with it.
Biography: Drifter doesn't tell much about his life but he starts it when he finds "Cherry". His father owned a junk yard and normally tore cars apart for scrap but one day a 1970 Chevrolet Nova was towed into the lot. It looked beaten up to hell but to Drifter it was the first and only time he fell in love. He was 10 at the time.
Drifter knew he wasn't as smart as the other kids in school so he devoted himself to mechanics as he did whatever he could to restore Cherry. It became a long and grueling process as Drifter disassembled engines to learn them. His father encouraged him but he wanted his son to take something else in life. Drifter was having none of it because all he wanted in life was to have that car.
To pay for restoring the car, Drifter raced rally cars in his local racetrack. All was going well until he was in a terrible car accident where the car flipped over and was crushed in a seven car pileup. Drifter survived but the surgery that helped him killed his father in terms of finances. Seeing his dad in serious financial debt, Drifter turned to various odd jobs to help pay for his surgery.
By day he became a stuntman and took jobs that would other stuntmen wouldn't do. That was when he realized that his pain receptors were largely nonexistent so he took a lot of beating without really feeling it. In the end, he earned quite a bit of money. His skills behind the car as a stunt driver also helped. He even worked as a stunt driver in a famous movie with some Danish Director.
He worked so hard that he had to drop out of high school which angered his father. In a drunken stupor, his father sold Cherry to a buyer who was eager to buy from him. Something in Drifter snapped so he went to the buyer's house and took back Cherry. He fled the town and has been driving ever since.
In two years, Drifter has visited each state within the continental United States at least twice(with the exception of Alaska and Hawaii). Along the way he used his skills to win races and make more money. He's made several additions to his car since he's left which include a reinforced chassis, a roll cage, a better engine and a bullet-proof windshield he won from a crooked sheriff. He's essentially made his car largely death proof and he's been selling his skills to whoever listens.
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance: Drifter isn't that physically imposing but that serves him quite well as thugs see him as the last person to go completely psycho on them. He's 5'9, skinny and frail-looking with a perpetually blank expression. He's got wavy, dirty-blonde hair that he keeps combing impulsively. His skin is as pale as the moon with deep grey eyes that seem to try and jump out of his head at every waking second. Drifter's face would be baby smooth if it wasn't for a scar running up his neck to the right side of his face.
Drifter keeps it simple with a motor-oil stained, white shirt, dirty jeans and heavy boots on his feet. He does wear a pretty sweet leather jack that he wears wherever he goes. Its got a little bit of everything on it and its leather luster is a bit worn but an impressive lion is emblazoned on the back.
Personality: Drifter is silent and mostly keeps to himself. He isn't shy but he just tries to keep people at arm's length at all times. Because of this, Drifter is very mysterious and reserved. What personality he does have he shows through his fighting or his driving skills. He feels truly at peace when he is in his car and/or driving.
Drifter also loves driving, even if there is no point to it. Many a nights has Drifter driven for the heck of it. The only thing that Drifter loves on this Earth is the sensation of driving and his prized 1970 Chevrolet Nova [http://th03.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/019/3/f/stuntman_mike_s_new_nova_by_kyleandtheclassics-d6ijamf.jpg] that he built from the wheels up. He affectionately calls the car "Cherry". If anything or anyone touches remotely damages his car the more unhinged he gets. The same goes for insulting the car as well.
Special Talent(s): You got a vehicle needs driving? Well Drifter can drive it and then some. He's an amazing mechanic and he can drive his "death-proof" car into just about anything without hurting him or his companions. Also did I mention he can drive because this guy can drive. He can close both his eyes and still win a street race with his car.
Drifter is also notoriously tough. A car accident severed some of his nerve endings and to any other man, that would be crippling but with Drifter it made his pain tolerance unusually high. Punch him all you want but Drifter won't even bat an eye.
In terms of combat, Drifter sticks with a titanium claw hammer. You'd ask him why until you see the damage he can do with it.
Biography: Drifter doesn't tell much about his life but he starts it when he finds "Cherry". His father owned a junk yard and normally tore cars apart for scrap but one day a 1970 Chevrolet Nova was towed into the lot. It looked beaten up to hell but to Drifter it was the first and only time he fell in love. He was 10 at the time.
Drifter knew he wasn't as smart as the other kids in school so he devoted himself to mechanics as he did whatever he could to restore Cherry. It became a long and grueling process as Drifter disassembled engines to learn them. His father encouraged him but he wanted his son to take something else in life. Drifter was having none of it because all he wanted in life was to have that car.
To pay for restoring the car, Drifter raced rally cars in his local racetrack. All was going well until he was in a terrible car accident where the car flipped over and was crushed in a seven car pileup. Drifter survived but the surgery that helped him killed his father in terms of finances. Seeing his dad in serious financial debt, Drifter turned to various odd jobs to help pay for his surgery.
By day he became a stuntman and took jobs that would other stuntmen wouldn't do. That was when he realized that his pain receptors were largely nonexistent so he took a lot of beating without really feeling it. In the end, he earned quite a bit of money. His skills behind the car as a stunt driver also helped. He even worked as a stunt driver in a famous movie with some Danish Director.
He worked so hard that he had to drop out of high school which angered his father. In a drunken stupor, his father sold Cherry to a buyer who was eager to buy from him. Something in Drifter snapped so he went to the buyer's house and took back Cherry. He fled the town and has been driving ever since.
In two years, Drifter has visited each state within the continental United States at least twice(with the exception of Alaska and Hawaii). Along the way he used his skills to win races and make more money. He's made several additions to his car since he's left which include a reinforced chassis, a roll cage, a better engine and a bullet-proof windshield he won from a crooked sheriff. He's essentially made his car largely death proof and he's been selling his skills to whoever listens.
Name: David "Broker" Ancroft
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Appearance: Caucasian, 5'10", 170 lbs, some muscle tone but not visible through clothes. Tends to dress in suits bought with the money gained from his activities or in jeans and t-shirts if he needs to be inconspicuous.
Personality: He has a tendency to go out of his way to stand out amongst the competitors in his line of work. He can be friendly or even charming, but only if he thinks the person he is talking to is of some use to him. Otherwise David will be cordial enough but will disregard others who he believes to be utterly worthless. If the person in question proves themselves in his eyes he will treat them as he would any friend.
He has no problem lying to people to achieve whatever goal is currently in front of him and he will always be looking for some new opportunity to gain money, power, influence, and most important of all in his world connections.
Special Talent(s): His greatest talent is the connections his made both in and out of the criminal world. Time spent in prison and the military started a long journey to becoming a legitimate if not at all big name in the information game. Guns, drugs, women, cars, cash, and even the names of some people willing to kill in exchange for one of the above. Take your pick and he either can get you them, give you the name of someone who can, or at the very least tell you where to find it.
He also makes for a decent con-man, he knows how to play people but he vastly prefers the information game to having to continuously maintain lies for possibly years at a time. However sometimes it was unavoidable and he had to know how to play the game.
Biography: He's what could charitably be called a "street urchin". David spent his young life without parents or anything close to a direction in life. As a kid he was working with two men who would influence his life, one worked a small table selling counterfeit items and the other ran a relatively successful shell game. The first taught him that the best way to begin working your way up in the world was by who you knew. The guys who could get the most believable fakes were king and everyone else may as well have been invisible. The second taught him the art of the con, how to get people interested and keep them on the hook until you are ready to take them for all they're worth or let them go. Both of them taught him that only a few people were good for anything more than simply being tools to make your way up in the world.
For years he worked with these two and started using the skills they taught him to make his own way. He started working the individual stands of his surrogate fathers as well as using the people these guys knew to begin laundering stolen items. He knew the limit of what he could steal without doing particularly hard time if he got caught with it and stuck with this.
At 15 David got involved with Granny Sinclaire. That day he was running his standard shell game and for once had a decent crowd not only gathered but pretty well engrossed. He made sure he let people win often enough that they thought they had a good chance, but never enough that he wasn't making a tidy profit on it. She saw something in him and made him a deal after he had stopped for the day, and David knew an opportunity when he saw it. He jumped at the chance and soon enough he was working with a few small drug and prostitution rings. The next year was when he got arrested.
He got busted and the judge decided to make an example of him by trying him as an adult for his connection to a prostitution ring he was something of a manager of. Nervous and scared at first he found out this was actually one hell of an opportunity. The connection to Granny netted him enough protection that he was safe and allowed him to get to know carjackers, drug runners, murderers, thieves, and many other types of criminal of various levels of competency and skill sets. The next two years were spent parlaying these new found friends on the inside into a web of people on the outside. By the time he got arrested again he knew who to talk to, who to pay off, and how to talk to people well enough that he got off easy.
This time he got caught in a sting operation for multiple counts of conspiracy to commit a felony and one count of weapons smuggling. Luckily he used his connections to get an offer, since he was still technically a minor until the day after the closing of the trial he could either go to prison or be put into the military to try and "reform" him in another way. He took the deal and was shipped off that night.
It has been four years and two tours and now he is returning back to the city of his birth. He kept contacts up using his calls to talk to granny and some friendly information contacts to make sure he stayed up to date and working on making the right friends to get what most gangs cherish, that being friends across oceans and more importantly military grade hardware.
He owes Granny and he plans on repaying that debt by making damn sure she is the only player in town, and he isn't about to let a bunch of idiots wipe her off the map and by extension undo a good amount of his work.
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Appearance: Caucasian, 5'10", 170 lbs, some muscle tone but not visible through clothes. Tends to dress in suits bought with the money gained from his activities or in jeans and t-shirts if he needs to be inconspicuous.
Personality: He has a tendency to go out of his way to stand out amongst the competitors in his line of work. He can be friendly or even charming, but only if he thinks the person he is talking to is of some use to him. Otherwise David will be cordial enough but will disregard others who he believes to be utterly worthless. If the person in question proves themselves in his eyes he will treat them as he would any friend.
He has no problem lying to people to achieve whatever goal is currently in front of him and he will always be looking for some new opportunity to gain money, power, influence, and most important of all in his world connections.
Special Talent(s): His greatest talent is the connections his made both in and out of the criminal world. Time spent in prison and the military started a long journey to becoming a legitimate if not at all big name in the information game. Guns, drugs, women, cars, cash, and even the names of some people willing to kill in exchange for one of the above. Take your pick and he either can get you them, give you the name of someone who can, or at the very least tell you where to find it.
He also makes for a decent con-man, he knows how to play people but he vastly prefers the information game to having to continuously maintain lies for possibly years at a time. However sometimes it was unavoidable and he had to know how to play the game.
Biography: He's what could charitably be called a "street urchin". David spent his young life without parents or anything close to a direction in life. As a kid he was working with two men who would influence his life, one worked a small table selling counterfeit items and the other ran a relatively successful shell game. The first taught him that the best way to begin working your way up in the world was by who you knew. The guys who could get the most believable fakes were king and everyone else may as well have been invisible. The second taught him the art of the con, how to get people interested and keep them on the hook until you are ready to take them for all they're worth or let them go. Both of them taught him that only a few people were good for anything more than simply being tools to make your way up in the world.
For years he worked with these two and started using the skills they taught him to make his own way. He started working the individual stands of his surrogate fathers as well as using the people these guys knew to begin laundering stolen items. He knew the limit of what he could steal without doing particularly hard time if he got caught with it and stuck with this.
At 15 David got involved with Granny Sinclaire. That day he was running his standard shell game and for once had a decent crowd not only gathered but pretty well engrossed. He made sure he let people win often enough that they thought they had a good chance, but never enough that he wasn't making a tidy profit on it. She saw something in him and made him a deal after he had stopped for the day, and David knew an opportunity when he saw it. He jumped at the chance and soon enough he was working with a few small drug and prostitution rings. The next year was when he got arrested.
He got busted and the judge decided to make an example of him by trying him as an adult for his connection to a prostitution ring he was something of a manager of. Nervous and scared at first he found out this was actually one hell of an opportunity. The connection to Granny netted him enough protection that he was safe and allowed him to get to know carjackers, drug runners, murderers, thieves, and many other types of criminal of various levels of competency and skill sets. The next two years were spent parlaying these new found friends on the inside into a web of people on the outside. By the time he got arrested again he knew who to talk to, who to pay off, and how to talk to people well enough that he got off easy.
This time he got caught in a sting operation for multiple counts of conspiracy to commit a felony and one count of weapons smuggling. Luckily he used his connections to get an offer, since he was still technically a minor until the day after the closing of the trial he could either go to prison or be put into the military to try and "reform" him in another way. He took the deal and was shipped off that night.
It has been four years and two tours and now he is returning back to the city of his birth. He kept contacts up using his calls to talk to granny and some friendly information contacts to make sure he stayed up to date and working on making the right friends to get what most gangs cherish, that being friends across oceans and more importantly military grade hardware.
He owes Granny and he plans on repaying that debt by making damn sure she is the only player in town, and he isn't about to let a bunch of idiots wipe her off the map and by extension undo a good amount of his work.
Name: Micheal "Magic" Jacques
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Appearance: A tall 5'9" he weighs a nill 135 pounds. Dark brown hair down to the middle of his back it is usually in a low ponytail and because of his habit to play with it when bored or not doing anything needing his hands its curled around itself and stays together even outside of the tail. white with blue eyes he needs glasses to see past the tip of his hands.
He wears cargo pants with a belt pocket for his phone with some side pockets on it which hold a screwdriver and box knife. In front of that pocket is a flashlight in its own case also attached to the belt, on the other side of his person are an old leather-man from his dad and another that was a present from another friend. Over a tucked in dirty harry tee shirt he wears a faded blue vest with several inside and outside pockets, old and a little ratty it still stays together.
Personality: Fairly layed back he is in a word, lazy. Always looking for the easiest way to do something, weither its walking or making some jury rigged thing to do something it shouldn't be able to.
While he understands there's a difference between males and females he doesn't care about those differences.
Special Talent(s):
Knife proficiency; Usually having 3-5 knives on his person he knows how to use them for the most damage while using the least energy himself.
MacGyverism; He can jury rig something with parts not made for it, usually using the 2 pliers on his leather-mans to get it to work they eventually will.
Electrician; a good friend of the family is an electrician and mike learned it as a part time job, but he learned about it in all aspects.
Biography:
Living with his dad for the last 10 years because of a divorce he has had a pretty amazing parent and freedom to do just about anything he wish's. It started at his middle school but because he could jury rig anything he really wanted using little bits of trash and some wire he started being called magic because its what it looked like to those around him.
At the start of high school some other high school students with some connection to the darker side of society started approaching him for little things, like a way to hold a dropping window open or something to bypass the electricity going to a circuit. doing a part time job at a family friends he had access to lots of different gauge wires and learned how electricity worked as well as how wiring in buildings are set up and other things concerning it.
at 16 he is the go to for some little device to help to make your life or crime go easier, or to ask about how to get inside a building through a wall without cutting something important. Usually being payed for everything he has worked with granny a few times and likes her, not wanting her to leave cause she pays him the best for what she wants he will help her become the only person in town with any criminal family. The rest can die, seeing as they have never come to him and ever bought anything.
Note:
LAZY; without a good reason and an interest he isn't going anywhere. "Much to lazy for that shit."
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Appearance: A tall 5'9" he weighs a nill 135 pounds. Dark brown hair down to the middle of his back it is usually in a low ponytail and because of his habit to play with it when bored or not doing anything needing his hands its curled around itself and stays together even outside of the tail. white with blue eyes he needs glasses to see past the tip of his hands.
He wears cargo pants with a belt pocket for his phone with some side pockets on it which hold a screwdriver and box knife. In front of that pocket is a flashlight in its own case also attached to the belt, on the other side of his person are an old leather-man from his dad and another that was a present from another friend. Over a tucked in dirty harry tee shirt he wears a faded blue vest with several inside and outside pockets, old and a little ratty it still stays together.
Personality: Fairly layed back he is in a word, lazy. Always looking for the easiest way to do something, weither its walking or making some jury rigged thing to do something it shouldn't be able to.
While he understands there's a difference between males and females he doesn't care about those differences.
Special Talent(s):
Knife proficiency; Usually having 3-5 knives on his person he knows how to use them for the most damage while using the least energy himself.
MacGyverism; He can jury rig something with parts not made for it, usually using the 2 pliers on his leather-mans to get it to work they eventually will.
Electrician; a good friend of the family is an electrician and mike learned it as a part time job, but he learned about it in all aspects.
Biography:
Living with his dad for the last 10 years because of a divorce he has had a pretty amazing parent and freedom to do just about anything he wish's. It started at his middle school but because he could jury rig anything he really wanted using little bits of trash and some wire he started being called magic because its what it looked like to those around him.
At the start of high school some other high school students with some connection to the darker side of society started approaching him for little things, like a way to hold a dropping window open or something to bypass the electricity going to a circuit. doing a part time job at a family friends he had access to lots of different gauge wires and learned how electricity worked as well as how wiring in buildings are set up and other things concerning it.
at 16 he is the go to for some little device to help to make your life or crime go easier, or to ask about how to get inside a building through a wall without cutting something important. Usually being payed for everything he has worked with granny a few times and likes her, not wanting her to leave cause she pays him the best for what she wants he will help her become the only person in town with any criminal family. The rest can die, seeing as they have never come to him and ever bought anything.
Note:
LAZY; without a good reason and an interest he isn't going anywhere. "Much to lazy for that shit."
Name: Monica "Matchstick" Chen
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Appearance: As far as looks go, Monica can be said to be a decent mix between her father and mother, who are Chinese and Italian american, respectively. She seems to try to take care of her lightly olive skin, her hair tends towards being long, messy, and dark brown (save for in the summertime when it gets copper highlights due to the sun), and she gets her eye shape and color (a deep brown, almost black coloring) from her father. she stands around 5"3 and while she isn't the most curvy woman around, hitting about in the middle, she doesn't care too much about it, she'll make due.
Clothing-wise, she leans more towards things with lots of pockets, making cargo pants a must in her mind, along with a belt and various lighters and matchsticks filling those pockets (she may even have flint and steel in there...she doesn't know what they look like so she's not sure). She usually wears these with either a spaghetti strap top, a boat-necked T-shirt or a regular T (usually with some design that she liked at the time on it), and covers this with a light grey cotton jacket. She doesn't care what shoes she wears, just so long as she can keep up with people, she's fine.
Personality: When it comes down to it, Monica is defined by being scatterbrained, obsessive, and insatiably curious. She loves watching chemical reactions, particularly fire and explosives (and more mundane things like watching alka-seltzer tabs melt in water) and takes any chance she can get to watch them, usually limiting herself to the former most often. She also has a problem understanding personal space and is a big advocate of romance...but her definition tends to differ drastically from the norm, encompassing things like stalking, breaking and entering, and more.
Since their aunt died along with two of her brothers, her remaining brother, along with Monica herself, have become very protective of each other. Monica herself extends this out to anyone she would call a friend as well, typically being one of the first to jump up and fight if a friend is in danger...provided she can recognize that they're in danger in the first place. She's also willing to drop everything to help out a friend but tends to go overboard in that aspect.
Special Talent(s):
Monica is a huge fan of explosives, but anyone with any sense of self-preservation won't let her near any. This is why she's taken the time to learn how to craft her own improvised explosives using anything she can get. Consequently, she's also adept at chemistry, though her interests tends to focus mostly on what will explode when put together.
She's also gotten good at tracking people and trailing them, using it for fun and her work.
Due to having been raised with 3 brothers, all of whom are wrestling fans (both amateur, pro, and competitive), she has a lot of skill in busting out wrestling moves.
Biography: Living with a couple of off again, on again drug addicts was bad. Living with a couple of on again, off again drug addicts that drugged up to calm their nerves during your birth and ended up dropping you on your head was worse. Living with a couple of on again, off again drug addicts who may have been "partaking" in the middle of pregnancy and have drugged up to calm their nerves during your birth which ended with dropping you on your head were the details of Monica's birth. They were lucky enough that their stunt didn't cause their daugther severe brain damage but the incident has been the final straw for her fathers sister, who forcibly took her and her brothers away from their parents, before said parents got them killed.
Her life after that got a bit better, all things considered. She got through elementary without ending up in special ed., dispite her mental state. She made a few friends, dispite her unusual personality. She had a good home life with her brothers, dispite their best efforts to put her and each other into a headlock and her habit of throwing fireworks at them if they annoyed her.
Then she goes to middle school, where things kind of start to get worse. She picked up the habit of lighting things on fire from another student, who showed her how to operate a lighter. They spent many days lighting paper on fire and watching branches burn...and in all of that, she admited to herself that she gained a bit of a crush on him. Soon she started following him home after school, keeping her distance from him so that he doesn't notice. Then she began sneaking out and staring into his bedroom window from outside. Needless to say, she got worse from there as things escalated onwards.
A week later, he confronted her on it, having caught on after a bit of time. He demanded that she stop and they got to arguing over it...it ended with them accidentally burning down the school. Still, noone caught them as it was assumed that one of the gangs had done it, but it did cause the both of them to go to different schools and the boy moved away two weeks later. Her friends found out pretty quickly that they had started the fire and while they were cool enough not to rat her out, they did give her the name Matchstick for the incident, dispite her insistance that she hadn't used matchsticks. Still, she got over it and moved on, more focused on her crush moving away than anything else. She had a few more incidents like this during her middle school career but none got school burning bad.
It was during the interim between 8th and 9th grade when her aunt and second eldest brother died. Her second brother had gotten involved with some of the Triad members and her aunt wanted him to cut his ties with them. Her aunt decided to down and drag him back home, intent on stopping him from going down a similar road as his parents. A driveby occurred when she was down there...they were both gunned down.
The Triad members who their brother had joined up with came knocking a few days later, trying to get some stuff that their brother was holding for them...which their aunt had gotten rid of before she went to drag their brother back. In recompense, their youngest brother offered joined them, eager to get vengeance upon those that had murdered their aunt. The eldest brother tried to stop the youngest from trying something as stupid as that but he didn't listen. He was gunned down 6 months later in a raid by the police. After that, things quieted down some. They buried their youngest brother along side their aunt and second eldest.
The eldest brother took up a job in order to keep them from losing the house, all the while keeping an eye on things to make sure the Triad didn't come knocking for another member. She, meanwhile, tried to move on from the deaths and focus on school, going on through it for a couple of years. Throughout that time, she took the chance to study as much of chemistry as she could, gaining enough knowledge as she could on what reacted to what and where to find them. She had a similar concern as her brother did, that the triads were a horrible thing for the city, but she extended it to all gangs, not just the triad or whatever gang had attacked and killed her brother and aunt. She wished that they would cease to exist so that she wouldn't lose her last brother to them somehow...so she started working on developing explosives, to try and get rid of them forcefully along with a plan on how she would use them.
She knew that she wouldn't be able to do it alone though so for the last few months, she's been trying to find others who have expressed this idea, with little luck. She's recently caught a break though as another student has heard of her score to settle with the gangs and come to talk with her about the Sinclair family. She hasn't heard of them before but from what she has heard, they seem promising, maybe she could join up with them...
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Appearance: As far as looks go, Monica can be said to be a decent mix between her father and mother, who are Chinese and Italian american, respectively. She seems to try to take care of her lightly olive skin, her hair tends towards being long, messy, and dark brown (save for in the summertime when it gets copper highlights due to the sun), and she gets her eye shape and color (a deep brown, almost black coloring) from her father. she stands around 5"3 and while she isn't the most curvy woman around, hitting about in the middle, she doesn't care too much about it, she'll make due.
Clothing-wise, she leans more towards things with lots of pockets, making cargo pants a must in her mind, along with a belt and various lighters and matchsticks filling those pockets (she may even have flint and steel in there...she doesn't know what they look like so she's not sure). She usually wears these with either a spaghetti strap top, a boat-necked T-shirt or a regular T (usually with some design that she liked at the time on it), and covers this with a light grey cotton jacket. She doesn't care what shoes she wears, just so long as she can keep up with people, she's fine.
Personality: When it comes down to it, Monica is defined by being scatterbrained, obsessive, and insatiably curious. She loves watching chemical reactions, particularly fire and explosives (and more mundane things like watching alka-seltzer tabs melt in water) and takes any chance she can get to watch them, usually limiting herself to the former most often. She also has a problem understanding personal space and is a big advocate of romance...but her definition tends to differ drastically from the norm, encompassing things like stalking, breaking and entering, and more.
Since their aunt died along with two of her brothers, her remaining brother, along with Monica herself, have become very protective of each other. Monica herself extends this out to anyone she would call a friend as well, typically being one of the first to jump up and fight if a friend is in danger...provided she can recognize that they're in danger in the first place. She's also willing to drop everything to help out a friend but tends to go overboard in that aspect.
Special Talent(s):
Monica is a huge fan of explosives, but anyone with any sense of self-preservation won't let her near any. This is why she's taken the time to learn how to craft her own improvised explosives using anything she can get. Consequently, she's also adept at chemistry, though her interests tends to focus mostly on what will explode when put together.
She's also gotten good at tracking people and trailing them, using it for fun and her work.
Due to having been raised with 3 brothers, all of whom are wrestling fans (both amateur, pro, and competitive), she has a lot of skill in busting out wrestling moves.
Biography: Living with a couple of off again, on again drug addicts was bad. Living with a couple of on again, off again drug addicts that drugged up to calm their nerves during your birth and ended up dropping you on your head was worse. Living with a couple of on again, off again drug addicts who may have been "partaking" in the middle of pregnancy and have drugged up to calm their nerves during your birth which ended with dropping you on your head were the details of Monica's birth. They were lucky enough that their stunt didn't cause their daugther severe brain damage but the incident has been the final straw for her fathers sister, who forcibly took her and her brothers away from their parents, before said parents got them killed.
Her life after that got a bit better, all things considered. She got through elementary without ending up in special ed., dispite her mental state. She made a few friends, dispite her unusual personality. She had a good home life with her brothers, dispite their best efforts to put her and each other into a headlock and her habit of throwing fireworks at them if they annoyed her.
Then she goes to middle school, where things kind of start to get worse. She picked up the habit of lighting things on fire from another student, who showed her how to operate a lighter. They spent many days lighting paper on fire and watching branches burn...and in all of that, she admited to herself that she gained a bit of a crush on him. Soon she started following him home after school, keeping her distance from him so that he doesn't notice. Then she began sneaking out and staring into his bedroom window from outside. Needless to say, she got worse from there as things escalated onwards.
A week later, he confronted her on it, having caught on after a bit of time. He demanded that she stop and they got to arguing over it...it ended with them accidentally burning down the school. Still, noone caught them as it was assumed that one of the gangs had done it, but it did cause the both of them to go to different schools and the boy moved away two weeks later. Her friends found out pretty quickly that they had started the fire and while they were cool enough not to rat her out, they did give her the name Matchstick for the incident, dispite her insistance that she hadn't used matchsticks. Still, she got over it and moved on, more focused on her crush moving away than anything else. She had a few more incidents like this during her middle school career but none got school burning bad.
It was during the interim between 8th and 9th grade when her aunt and second eldest brother died. Her second brother had gotten involved with some of the Triad members and her aunt wanted him to cut his ties with them. Her aunt decided to down and drag him back home, intent on stopping him from going down a similar road as his parents. A driveby occurred when she was down there...they were both gunned down.
The Triad members who their brother had joined up with came knocking a few days later, trying to get some stuff that their brother was holding for them...which their aunt had gotten rid of before she went to drag their brother back. In recompense, their youngest brother offered joined them, eager to get vengeance upon those that had murdered their aunt. The eldest brother tried to stop the youngest from trying something as stupid as that but he didn't listen. He was gunned down 6 months later in a raid by the police. After that, things quieted down some. They buried their youngest brother along side their aunt and second eldest.
The eldest brother took up a job in order to keep them from losing the house, all the while keeping an eye on things to make sure the Triad didn't come knocking for another member. She, meanwhile, tried to move on from the deaths and focus on school, going on through it for a couple of years. Throughout that time, she took the chance to study as much of chemistry as she could, gaining enough knowledge as she could on what reacted to what and where to find them. She had a similar concern as her brother did, that the triads were a horrible thing for the city, but she extended it to all gangs, not just the triad or whatever gang had attacked and killed her brother and aunt. She wished that they would cease to exist so that she wouldn't lose her last brother to them somehow...so she started working on developing explosives, to try and get rid of them forcefully along with a plan on how she would use them.
She knew that she wouldn't be able to do it alone though so for the last few months, she's been trying to find others who have expressed this idea, with little luck. She's recently caught a break though as another student has heard of her score to settle with the gangs and come to talk with her about the Sinclair family. She hasn't heard of them before but from what she has heard, they seem promising, maybe she could join up with them...
Name: Chloe "Strawberry" Fields (Her nickname was given to her by her father, she dearly loves the man but finds the nickname embarrassing)
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Appearance: Chloe is fairly tall for her age, with shoulder-length strawberry blond hair usually kept in a long ponytail and green eyes, and also has a few tattoos and piercings. She prefers dressing casually, though the style depnds on her mood. Her current outfit includes a red plaid skirt, a black tank top underneath a green army-style jacket decorated with buttons/patches/pins, thigh-high black leather boots and matching belts.
Personality: Energetic, loud, and excitable with an infectious personality, Chloe is a party girl through and through. She hates seeing others upset and will go out of hey way to cheer them up, whether they like it or not. She always seems to be active, whether it's playing guitar, having fun at a party or whatever, she seems to hate downtime and would much rather be doing something than doing nothing. She has experimented with drugs a bit, but so far it doesn't seem to be doing much for her, considering she's already full of energy as it is. Rather immature, Chloe would much rather avoid serious tasks and would rather have fun, which may lead to her downfall own of these days.
Special Talents: Is a decent singer/guitar player and knows a variety of art techniques (though her preferred method is graffiti). She is fairly athletic and is currently interested in learning free-running/parkour, and knows a few self-defense arts.
Biography: Born to a British musician father and an American art teacher mother, Lauren's life was pretty good, all things considered. She was a it spoiled in her younger years, but as she grew older, she developed more of an independent streak, albeit just so she could do whatever she pleased. As soon as she finished high school, Chloe moved to Billoardsville to seek her fortune.
However, it wasn't as easy as she thought. She managed to get a job working at a record/book store, but tended to blow her money on frivolous things. Pretty soon, she fell in with the wrong crowd, the Royals, in fact. Chloe was nothing more than a tagalong for one of the top lieutenants of the gang, and found that being to do whatever she pleased quite enjoyable.
However, this lifestyle would have lead to a sticky end, had not fate intervened. One night after a drunken party, Chloe came across her boyfriend making but with another girl. This lead to an enraged Chloe getting into a confrontation with the guy, who threw her out on the streets. Without anywhere to go and rather desperate, Chloe attempted to a rob a nearby pedestrian, who just so happened to be Granny Sinclair. The old woman was not so easily taken down, but saw the girl was desperate, s she offered Chloe a place to stay.
Now Chloe is works with the Sinclairs, hoping to take back the streets from the other gangs, and maybe have a bit of fun doing it.
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Appearance: Chloe is fairly tall for her age, with shoulder-length strawberry blond hair usually kept in a long ponytail and green eyes, and also has a few tattoos and piercings. She prefers dressing casually, though the style depnds on her mood. Her current outfit includes a red plaid skirt, a black tank top underneath a green army-style jacket decorated with buttons/patches/pins, thigh-high black leather boots and matching belts.
Personality: Energetic, loud, and excitable with an infectious personality, Chloe is a party girl through and through. She hates seeing others upset and will go out of hey way to cheer them up, whether they like it or not. She always seems to be active, whether it's playing guitar, having fun at a party or whatever, she seems to hate downtime and would much rather be doing something than doing nothing. She has experimented with drugs a bit, but so far it doesn't seem to be doing much for her, considering she's already full of energy as it is. Rather immature, Chloe would much rather avoid serious tasks and would rather have fun, which may lead to her downfall own of these days.
Special Talents: Is a decent singer/guitar player and knows a variety of art techniques (though her preferred method is graffiti). She is fairly athletic and is currently interested in learning free-running/parkour, and knows a few self-defense arts.
Biography: Born to a British musician father and an American art teacher mother, Lauren's life was pretty good, all things considered. She was a it spoiled in her younger years, but as she grew older, she developed more of an independent streak, albeit just so she could do whatever she pleased. As soon as she finished high school, Chloe moved to Billoardsville to seek her fortune.
However, it wasn't as easy as she thought. She managed to get a job working at a record/book store, but tended to blow her money on frivolous things. Pretty soon, she fell in with the wrong crowd, the Royals, in fact. Chloe was nothing more than a tagalong for one of the top lieutenants of the gang, and found that being to do whatever she pleased quite enjoyable.
However, this lifestyle would have lead to a sticky end, had not fate intervened. One night after a drunken party, Chloe came across her boyfriend making but with another girl. This lead to an enraged Chloe getting into a confrontation with the guy, who threw her out on the streets. Without anywhere to go and rather desperate, Chloe attempted to a rob a nearby pedestrian, who just so happened to be Granny Sinclair. The old woman was not so easily taken down, but saw the girl was desperate, s she offered Chloe a place to stay.
Now Chloe is works with the Sinclairs, hoping to take back the streets from the other gangs, and maybe have a bit of fun doing it.
Name: Shanel Sinclaire
Age: 33
Gender: Female
Appearance: Shanel is short, big-assed, and busty, with skin the color of thin, weakass tea, and dresses between the "streetwalking tramp" and the "slutty soccer mom" range. She's quite hot, but she just oozes cheap sexuality, and is most likely riddled with herpes.
Personality: She's a skank.
Special Talent(s): She looks like she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose and give the best handjobs in Da Nang. Besides those particular abilities she's an extremely fast runner, very good at hiding and getting in and out of places without being seen.
Biography: Do you want her history before or after she was registered as a sex offender?
Age: 33
Gender: Female
Appearance: Shanel is short, big-assed, and busty, with skin the color of thin, weakass tea, and dresses between the "streetwalking tramp" and the "slutty soccer mom" range. She's quite hot, but she just oozes cheap sexuality, and is most likely riddled with herpes.
Personality: She's a skank.
Special Talent(s): She looks like she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose and give the best handjobs in Da Nang. Besides those particular abilities she's an extremely fast runner, very good at hiding and getting in and out of places without being seen.
Biography: Do you want her history before or after she was registered as a sex offender?
Name: Millicent 'Sweet Molly' O'Brien
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Appearance: As she likes to say, if you looked up the textbook definition of an Irish redhead, it'd just be a picture of her. Tall at 5'10", slender and fair skinned, her emerald green eyes are framed by a shoulder length crop of curly red hair that she usually keeps in a ponytail (with varying degrees of success). Clothing wise she tends to stick to clothes that are non-descript, and good for concealing any weapons she may be carrying.
Personality: Most of the time Milli is a boisterous and cheerful person, always up for a party, a drink, or a brawl. In a serious fight though she can be downright vicious, caring little for such things as 'collateral damage'...the target is the only priority.
Special Talent(s):
Block by block: Extensive instruction by her mother has taught her all anyone would ever want to know about fighting in a city.
One for the road: She like to claim it's because of her Irish heritage, but for whatever the reason, she has a phenomenal alcohol tolerance.
Biography: A local born girl to the core, it was pretty much a given that Milli would've ended up involved in Billboardsville's underworld; especially when her parent aren't exactly the law abiding types. Thomas O'Brien, her father, was born and raised in Boston, and due to familial connections ended up as a well regarded facilitator of arms and capital from supporters in America, to the IRA in Ireland. Milli's mother, Eva Browne, was a soldier of the IRA who was lying low in the US after she caught wind of an SAS 'kill' order being placed on her head.
Hiding out with IRA sympathisers in Boston, Eva was quickly introduced to Thomas, and the two hit it off rather well. Unfortunately for them the politics shifted in Ireland, and the need for arms diminished, while at the same time the FBI began really cracking down on the support structure in America. Unable to safely leave the country, they moved to the one city in the US where they knew nobody would ask too many questions... Billboardsville.
Shortly after arriving in the city, Thomas and Eva were approached by the Sinclaire Family, and offered jobs and a place to live...the Family may have lost ground in recent years, but they still knew a valuable asset when they saw one.
This is the life that Milli was born into. Her father used the contacts he'd made, here and abroad, to keep the Family well equipped, and her mother provided services as muscle for some of the Family's riskier 'business' deals, and as an instructor for the 'troops' on the ground. While going to school, and getting her grade 12, Milli was also taught the finer points of urban combat, hand-to-hand fighting and ambush warfare by her mother; the more business-like aspect of arms dealing, Thomas taught to Shaun, Milli's younger brother, as he'd shown much more interest in it than Milli ever did.
Notes: She generally carries a CZ 75 9mm pistol, and a boot knife at all times. For 'special occasions' she keeps a Mossberg 500 12 gauge shotgun, and an AK-74U hidden in the trunk of her car; a tan, slightly rusted, '80 Mercedes-Benz 300 Turbo Diesel sedan.
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Appearance: As she likes to say, if you looked up the textbook definition of an Irish redhead, it'd just be a picture of her. Tall at 5'10", slender and fair skinned, her emerald green eyes are framed by a shoulder length crop of curly red hair that she usually keeps in a ponytail (with varying degrees of success). Clothing wise she tends to stick to clothes that are non-descript, and good for concealing any weapons she may be carrying.
Personality: Most of the time Milli is a boisterous and cheerful person, always up for a party, a drink, or a brawl. In a serious fight though she can be downright vicious, caring little for such things as 'collateral damage'...the target is the only priority.
Special Talent(s):
Block by block: Extensive instruction by her mother has taught her all anyone would ever want to know about fighting in a city.
One for the road: She like to claim it's because of her Irish heritage, but for whatever the reason, she has a phenomenal alcohol tolerance.
Biography: A local born girl to the core, it was pretty much a given that Milli would've ended up involved in Billboardsville's underworld; especially when her parent aren't exactly the law abiding types. Thomas O'Brien, her father, was born and raised in Boston, and due to familial connections ended up as a well regarded facilitator of arms and capital from supporters in America, to the IRA in Ireland. Milli's mother, Eva Browne, was a soldier of the IRA who was lying low in the US after she caught wind of an SAS 'kill' order being placed on her head.
Hiding out with IRA sympathisers in Boston, Eva was quickly introduced to Thomas, and the two hit it off rather well. Unfortunately for them the politics shifted in Ireland, and the need for arms diminished, while at the same time the FBI began really cracking down on the support structure in America. Unable to safely leave the country, they moved to the one city in the US where they knew nobody would ask too many questions... Billboardsville.
Shortly after arriving in the city, Thomas and Eva were approached by the Sinclaire Family, and offered jobs and a place to live...the Family may have lost ground in recent years, but they still knew a valuable asset when they saw one.
This is the life that Milli was born into. Her father used the contacts he'd made, here and abroad, to keep the Family well equipped, and her mother provided services as muscle for some of the Family's riskier 'business' deals, and as an instructor for the 'troops' on the ground. While going to school, and getting her grade 12, Milli was also taught the finer points of urban combat, hand-to-hand fighting and ambush warfare by her mother; the more business-like aspect of arms dealing, Thomas taught to Shaun, Milli's younger brother, as he'd shown much more interest in it than Milli ever did.
Notes: She generally carries a CZ 75 9mm pistol, and a boot knife at all times. For 'special occasions' she keeps a Mossberg 500 12 gauge shotgun, and an AK-74U hidden in the trunk of her car; a tan, slightly rusted, '80 Mercedes-Benz 300 Turbo Diesel sedan.
For a total of ten whole characters (excluding mine)! That's...the exact number I was looking for! I'm still gonna leave the RP open just in case anyone wants to hop in down the line, but for now I am extremely satisfied with this turn out; thank you all! To be honest it was suggested that I pick and choose the people to get in, but I've played with (and at least seen) most of you in action and I know I can count on at least most of y'all. (That, and it's not like I got a overwhelming turnout, so there's that.) So i'm gonna take a risk, and keep you all in. Shouldn't be too bad right?
With that said, i'm most likely gonna make a Skype group for this. It's easier to keep tabs and discuss things in a group than it is on The Escapist. I already have six of youse as friends already, so, Ruedyn, Cuhrazy, figsly, Athol, you guys should totes get Skype if you don't already have it. If you have Windows 8 holy fuck do not get the one made for it because it is so bad. I'll provide a link for simplicity's sake. Make sure to get "Skype for Windows desktop" and not "Skype for modern Windows".
Next, our resident Canadian, Neo, is crossing American borders this weekend, and I was planning on holding off until, say...Sunday night-Monday Afternoon to launch the RP. Unless he finds a way to find time to post in between now n' then.
@Athol: I don't get to be es-special anymore? ........
Ah who am I kidding? The world needs more Canadians in everything.
@Pm0n3y: I leave late Sunday afternoon, and am back Tuesday morning. So if you want to start on Monday, that's totally fine. Daryna will be fashionably late to the party.
Ah who am I kidding? The world needs more Canadians in everything.
@Pm0n3y: I leave late Sunday afternoon, and am back Tuesday morning. So if you want to start on Monday, that's totally fine. Daryna will be fashionably late to the party.
Alright, i'll try to get it again but just to let you know, skype just seems to hate me so don't hold your breath. Technically, every program and site hates me but that site seems to want me to go to a special level of hell to suffer eternally. I've been trying to get it for the past six months yet something always goes wrong like the skype app for my phone not working correctly (though everyone seems to be having problems with the app right now). Still, i'll try again, i'll post on it tomorrow if it worked or not.Pm0n3y said:
Sort of but it has more to do with my family trying to upgrade the computer without any real tech experience which has led to a host of problems, particularly for me as i can't load up certain sites or watch any video thst doesn't come from youtube.Pm0n3y said:
Also, update. Still can't get it for PC, going to try phone again and pray that they've fixed the problems with it.
Name: Richard Aidan "Champ" Ward (absolutely detests being called Champ, and has been trying to get people to call him Rick, or Ricky, and other variations thereof. This has been met with varying results).
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Appearance: Richard stands at a a 6'2", with a brown half-crown sitting atop his head, green eyes lodged into his skull and mildly ruddy skin. He tends to wear unassuming clothes when out and about, a pair of bright khaki shorts, a white undershirt beneath a pale-blue short-sleeve button-up, and a pair of white sneakers. When it's cold, he opts for a grey bomber jacket and a pair of jeans. During formal occasions or when on business, you'll see him wearing a black pin-stripe suit with a white tie, and black loafers.
Personality: Our good pal Rick is a simple, kind, and laid-back individual, with a penchant for speaking rather eloquently, at times. When I say simple, I don't mean "stupid," but simple in that he doesn't desire a luxurious life, and enjoys it as it is now, with new things happening almost every day, and approaching them with a can-do attitude and an almost-perpetual grin on his face. He generally acts like a big brother to the family, and is willing to hear out problems and give some pep talk. Most of the time, he can be seen wearing a smile on his face and whistling a tune. Other times, you may find him in the dark corner of an alley, beating the ever-loving shit out of some poor schmuck who Granny Sinclaire wants taught a lesson, or went and got on his bad side. Fortunately for his fellows, it isn't easy to get him mad. However, excessively flaunt what you have, act generally unreasonable, or harm his comrades in any way will earn you his ire, and possibly a few missing teeth and broken bones. Or death. That isn't to say that he's above reason, but in the end, he'd much rather knock you senseless than listen to what you have to say.
Special Talent(s):
-Richard absolutely adores the up-and-personal approach, him being a former boxer and all. In the ring, he ignored all the rules and fought how he wanted to fight, going as far as bribing officials and referees so that they would look the other way. During fights, he had a tendency to follow a hook with an elbow, headbutt his opponent, or thumbing their eyes. Nowadays, he hung up his boxing gloves, and slipped on a pair of black leather fighting gloves in their place.
-He lives for the fight, and enjoys the pain that comes with it. Fighting back will only get him to fight back harder and more viciously.
-However, he isn't suicidal. He'll gladly use a gun when the situation calls for it.
Biography: Richard was born on a warm summer evening near the beginning of August, being the son of a small town grocery store worker and a middle school English teacher. His parents had raised him in hopes of turning the quiet, meek boy into a doctor, or a lawyer, or anything that will net him a lot of money so they could get pulled out of their menial and repetitive jobs and get swung right into the high life. Richard was constantly being pushed to better himself, and to be the top of the class. Luckily for them, he succeeded, though not quite as they had been expecting.
Richard, while a dutiful student, found almost all of his courses to be complete wastes of time, and barely put in any effort in them. Ultimately, he did just about average in all of his subjects, minus English (thanks to his mother's extensive and rather forceful tutelage and the fact that she'd have his head if she became the mother of an illiterate), and PE. Deciding that English would not get him anywhere else, he decided to build off of his success in athletics. A couple of years in the high school boxing program did wonders for him, propelling him straight into a sports university. Another year of schooling, and he entered the world of professional boxing in the light heavyweight division, just at the age of 18.
Despite all that he had achieved, Richard felt a distinct emptiness. It felt like he didn't truly accomplish anything. It was just fight after fight, trading cushioned blow after cushioned blow. That was it. He wanted something more exciting, and more dangerous. He came to the decision to go all out, rules be damned. Kicking, gouging, head-butting, you name it. He took down everyone in his way, with most of his money going to keeping people quiet and out of his way, and the rest to his parents. He had never felt more alive! Then came the title bout; the disastrous night, where things went a little awry. To keep it short, let's just say that our friend Richard was asked by a couple of Russian thugs to throw the match and in return, he'd get a share of the cut. Richards response was as you might have expected. The night ended with the Russian's golden boy effectively crippled from the neck down, and he would be spending at least five years drinking through a straw. Meanwhile Richard went on and got the belt, not that he really cared for it. Needless to say, Richard knew very well what the consequences of his actions were. He stuffed everything that he needed into his duffel bag, hopped on his bike, and got the hell out of dodge.
Another year passed, and Richard had been riding throughout the USA, traveling nowhere in particular, and only stopping to either freshen himself up, eat, or sleep. Eventually, he came to a stop in Billboardsville, and at Sinclaire's Sweets to grab a bite to eat before continuing on his way. Shortly after finishing his surprisingly appetizing meal (and flirting with the girl at the counter), Richard made his way outside, only to find his bike getting messed with by local gangsters who had thought that it would be amusing to spray-paint the entire thing a piss yellow, kick at the
engine, and slash the tires. Richard responded to this rage-inducing sight with a friendly greeting, and a fist to the stomach. In only a minute, the gangsters were down on the ground, either broken and bleeding, or dead. Granny Sinclaire had observed the whole ordeal above in her office, mildly impressed by Richards performance, and being well-aware of who he was. When he came back in to ask if he could use their phone, Granny instead offered him a job as an enforcer for the Sinclaire family gang, which he came to accept after some negotiations. Besides, he couldn't stay on the road forever. It was about time he found a place to stay.
As the days went on by, and as Richard got more familiar with the Sinclaires and the city, he had developed a new-found love for the both of them. Nowadays, Richard spends most of his time near the restaurant where he's needed, though he can sometimes be found wandering about, doing some shopping, or knocking a street punks teeth either within the Sinclaire family territory or outside of it.
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Appearance: Richard stands at a a 6'2", with a brown half-crown sitting atop his head, green eyes lodged into his skull and mildly ruddy skin. He tends to wear unassuming clothes when out and about, a pair of bright khaki shorts, a white undershirt beneath a pale-blue short-sleeve button-up, and a pair of white sneakers. When it's cold, he opts for a grey bomber jacket and a pair of jeans. During formal occasions or when on business, you'll see him wearing a black pin-stripe suit with a white tie, and black loafers.
Personality: Our good pal Rick is a simple, kind, and laid-back individual, with a penchant for speaking rather eloquently, at times. When I say simple, I don't mean "stupid," but simple in that he doesn't desire a luxurious life, and enjoys it as it is now, with new things happening almost every day, and approaching them with a can-do attitude and an almost-perpetual grin on his face. He generally acts like a big brother to the family, and is willing to hear out problems and give some pep talk. Most of the time, he can be seen wearing a smile on his face and whistling a tune. Other times, you may find him in the dark corner of an alley, beating the ever-loving shit out of some poor schmuck who Granny Sinclaire wants taught a lesson, or went and got on his bad side. Fortunately for his fellows, it isn't easy to get him mad. However, excessively flaunt what you have, act generally unreasonable, or harm his comrades in any way will earn you his ire, and possibly a few missing teeth and broken bones. Or death. That isn't to say that he's above reason, but in the end, he'd much rather knock you senseless than listen to what you have to say.
Special Talent(s):
-Richard absolutely adores the up-and-personal approach, him being a former boxer and all. In the ring, he ignored all the rules and fought how he wanted to fight, going as far as bribing officials and referees so that they would look the other way. During fights, he had a tendency to follow a hook with an elbow, headbutt his opponent, or thumbing their eyes. Nowadays, he hung up his boxing gloves, and slipped on a pair of black leather fighting gloves in their place.
-He lives for the fight, and enjoys the pain that comes with it. Fighting back will only get him to fight back harder and more viciously.
-However, he isn't suicidal. He'll gladly use a gun when the situation calls for it.
Biography: Richard was born on a warm summer evening near the beginning of August, being the son of a small town grocery store worker and a middle school English teacher. His parents had raised him in hopes of turning the quiet, meek boy into a doctor, or a lawyer, or anything that will net him a lot of money so they could get pulled out of their menial and repetitive jobs and get swung right into the high life. Richard was constantly being pushed to better himself, and to be the top of the class. Luckily for them, he succeeded, though not quite as they had been expecting.
Richard, while a dutiful student, found almost all of his courses to be complete wastes of time, and barely put in any effort in them. Ultimately, he did just about average in all of his subjects, minus English (thanks to his mother's extensive and rather forceful tutelage and the fact that she'd have his head if she became the mother of an illiterate), and PE. Deciding that English would not get him anywhere else, he decided to build off of his success in athletics. A couple of years in the high school boxing program did wonders for him, propelling him straight into a sports university. Another year of schooling, and he entered the world of professional boxing in the light heavyweight division, just at the age of 18.
Despite all that he had achieved, Richard felt a distinct emptiness. It felt like he didn't truly accomplish anything. It was just fight after fight, trading cushioned blow after cushioned blow. That was it. He wanted something more exciting, and more dangerous. He came to the decision to go all out, rules be damned. Kicking, gouging, head-butting, you name it. He took down everyone in his way, with most of his money going to keeping people quiet and out of his way, and the rest to his parents. He had never felt more alive! Then came the title bout; the disastrous night, where things went a little awry. To keep it short, let's just say that our friend Richard was asked by a couple of Russian thugs to throw the match and in return, he'd get a share of the cut. Richards response was as you might have expected. The night ended with the Russian's golden boy effectively crippled from the neck down, and he would be spending at least five years drinking through a straw. Meanwhile Richard went on and got the belt, not that he really cared for it. Needless to say, Richard knew very well what the consequences of his actions were. He stuffed everything that he needed into his duffel bag, hopped on his bike, and got the hell out of dodge.
Another year passed, and Richard had been riding throughout the USA, traveling nowhere in particular, and only stopping to either freshen himself up, eat, or sleep. Eventually, he came to a stop in Billboardsville, and at Sinclaire's Sweets to grab a bite to eat before continuing on his way. Shortly after finishing his surprisingly appetizing meal (and flirting with the girl at the counter), Richard made his way outside, only to find his bike getting messed with by local gangsters who had thought that it would be amusing to spray-paint the entire thing a piss yellow, kick at the
engine, and slash the tires. Richard responded to this rage-inducing sight with a friendly greeting, and a fist to the stomach. In only a minute, the gangsters were down on the ground, either broken and bleeding, or dead. Granny Sinclaire had observed the whole ordeal above in her office, mildly impressed by Richards performance, and being well-aware of who he was. When he came back in to ask if he could use their phone, Granny instead offered him a job as an enforcer for the Sinclaire family gang, which he came to accept after some negotiations. Besides, he couldn't stay on the road forever. It was about time he found a place to stay.
As the days went on by, and as Richard got more familiar with the Sinclaires and the city, he had developed a new-found love for the both of them. Nowadays, Richard spends most of his time near the restaurant where he's needed, though he can sometimes be found wandering about, doing some shopping, or knocking a street punks teeth either within the Sinclaire family territory or outside of it.
Here it is!