psychopathickids said
Name: What is this, kiddie hour? We’re educated professionals, not street thugs. Age: Operational for ten months. Uniform: If we wanted to wear uniforms, we’d have been cops. Crooked cops. Symbol: Shit, man; anyone else feel like they got drunk the night before the big test and showed up an hour late without a pencil? Product: Strictly methamphetamine, for the time being. Starter Muscle: No muscle to speak of at the moment, save for the three founding partners. History: Modern technology has transformed so many things once thought to be inherent within human civilization the world round. Smart phones that hold more information than any encyclopedia which yet prove small enough to fit in one’s pocket, laptops which can make phone calls half way around the globe while showing one’s face and setting in real time video, and most importantly for this motley crew; Xbox, specifically Xbox Live, connecting disparate souls at random across the planet. This may sound silly, but how else would a militant neo-Marxist physics major from Nevada, a reserved, mild-mannered Bio-Chem student from London, England, and a level headed gambler who never graduated from high school from Northern Georgia have happened to meet and then develop a friendship which would eventually extend to a rather productive business partnership? But I’m getting ahead of myself. Truth be told, the French-Irish, UK National Damien Hayes, of London, and the French-Lebanese, US National Felix Sadi, of Northern Georgia, had met online through a mutual acquaintance on a rather rudimentary MMO years prior to either meeting their eventual third business partner, the Mexican-French Swiss/Jewish, US National Kenneth Serrano-Eisenberg, and would only eventually be introduced to him because, as circumstance dictated, their mutual acquaintance happened to be the childhood best friend of Ken’s younger brother, and their first meeting was certainly out of the ordinary by society’s standards. While Skyping with Ken’s younger brother and his childhood best friend before starting up on what was to become an extended online raid Ken happened to walk behind the camera and begin dressing before heading out to a party. At the mention of, “who the fuck is that man getting naked behind you,” the situation was clarified, and the five soon began gaming together over Xbox Live. As time carried on there were four, and then three, and the trio never spent more than a week or so without catching up if they could help it. Years later the Nevadan, Ken, would travel to London and stay with Damien, and then in turn the three would eventually meet in Georgia together over summer holiday. Everything that occurred after was pure happenstance. Felix’ troubled younger half-brother had at baseball practice broken into their high school science supply closet and stolen their entire store of chemistry equipment, sneaking it out in his oversized sports duffel bag. Needing a place to store his ill-gotten prize he asked his brother if he could leave it with him for a few days. It started as a joke, really. Felix had been on a crime tv bender, and had seen several documentaries on methamphetamine over the days before Ken and Damien arrived at the airport in Atlanta and, happening to have a chemist and chemistry supplies on hand, mentioned that they should make some meth to pass the time. Simple joke. That is, until they decided to try it. Felix family owned a large property in the wooded mountains and had several ill constructed houses, cottages, and outright shacks littering the property, ample room to innocuously run science experiments, both Ken and Damien were scientists, the later even held a degree in Chemistry, and it was easy enough to buy a few packs of sudo from the local drug store a week, some road flares for the phosphorous, and other assorted odds and ends Ken came up with which might serve as adequate “ingredients,” and after three weeks all was set. After a forty eight hour caffeine binge, a case of eggs, six pounds of cheese, and a carton of Marlboro Reds their little group had a finished product. They couldn’t have known it then, but in the face of quickly tightening sanctions on sales of drugs which might be used to produce methamphetamine, stricter patrols along the Mexican border, and the recent bust of the premier local meth “chef,” the three had just produced crystalline gold. As it were, it was the most chemically pure meth in Northern Georgia at the time it was produced and Felix, happening to know a guy who knew a guy, moved the product in bulk and split the relatively significant proceeds three ways between each of the co-conspirators. None of them imagined they would ever do this again, and it was with a shock that the following week Felix’ guy came around asking if they could produce ten times the amount they had sold him just the week before for twenty times the profit. Ken, a starving university student, Felix a notoriously bad gambler and Damien, a recent Uni graduate who planned on spending the year after his graduation seeing the world before returning home and starting up on a job, in good (bad?) conscience couldn’t turn that kind of cash down. The problem, of course, was that they had no set structure for procuring the sudo to produce meth en mass, even at the level they had produced it just the week before, let alone in these types of quantities. Things escalated quickly. Ken, a proven successful commercial burglar and Felix, a residential burglar with a dubious record at best but well acquainted with the neighborhood, quickly saw the only option which would ensure them sufficient quantities of sudo with which to produce the sheer degree of meth their new contact wanted; they would have to take it, and from the only place in the area which carried enough of it to fill their quota, the very drugstore they had purchased their first batch from. The plan was simple, wait until close, scale the building in full black with duffel bags, enter through the roof, make off with as much as they could carry, exit the same way they had entered, and get to Felix’ truck parked in the woods a half mile away. It went off without a hitch, and the trio had entered into a new phase of their lives. Soon they were producing pounds of the stuff, and moving it in bulk every week, only to repeat the process, Damien serving as the cook, Ken his lab assistant, Felix the distributor. Over the next two months the pair pulled off two additional heists across the state which set them up with enough sudo to last them what they figured would be at least a year, more than the amount of time Damien had planned on spending abroad before returning home and getting a legitimate job, prepping, cooking, moving product. This lasted until a rival gang, fed up with their shit soda can meth being outclassed and outsold by the new, chemically pure arrival in the region got together, found Felix’ contact, beat him within an inch of his life and demanded the name of his guy; Felix Sadi. The gang went after Felix, and soon the three were faced with a choice; go to the cops, fight the larger, stronger gang, or relocate. They chose to leave, and wound up in the Big City. They’ve made contacts, established themselves as the biggest up and coming indy name in methamphetamine, and have come to a crossroad; to retire, or pull their next heist. Supplies are dwindling, and sudo’ll be gone within the week. Mob Bosses Character Sheets; Name: Kenneth “Ken,” Serrano-Eisenberg. Age: Twenty Two. Appearance: Ken stands at five foot ten, shorter than most though not especially so, and barely weighs one hundred thirty one pounds, though what weight he does have is primarily muscle, and he boasts a body which would be the envy of most, complete with aesthetically pleasing yet practical biceps and six pack abs. Of course, naturally being quite thin it’s far easier to attain such an appearance, but it’s not maintained without considerable effort on his part. Hair somewhere between auburn and strawberry blonde accentuates his crystal blue eyes well, and his complexion is quite fair, though not nearly ginger or translucent, and his features are strikingly attractive, in a boyish sense of the term, more pretty than traditionally handsome. Depending on his mood he typically wears either sleeveless shirts with obscure punk rock band emblems and skinny jeans, or organic bamboo suit jackets and slacks with faux-leather polymer belt and shoes, custom designed by an old friend and tailored to his exact measurements. Gender: Male. Basic Personality: Contrary to a fault, conflict seeking and assertive bordering on demanding, Ken has always managed to be a polarizing figure. It’s practically unheard of that someone who knows him well at all could have little feeling toward him, half of the people he knows love the guy, the other half hate him, and that seems to be how he likes it. Few people, however, can manage to stick by him for long without growing tired of his constant rants about obscure subjects most couldn’t care less about, ceaseless need to seek out conflict, and tendencies to fly off the handle for no good reason at all. Often he seems to act purely on impulse, though everything always seems to come together at the end almost as if he had planned it that way. Just as soon as it all comes together, however, it all falls apart and he’s left a step behind where he first started out, forced to once more begin repairing the wreckage he’s made of his life, largely ignorant of what ill his actions bring to those around him. History: Born to a half Jewish half French-Swiss mother, and half Mexican half German father, neither of whom he happens to particularly look like, and possessed of great intelligence and an overtly self-willed, if not outright defiant attitude and cynical outlook on the world, life seemed destined to be filled with strife and conflict for Ken from the very beginning. As it were, such a prophecy, had it been voiced, would have proven true. His first words were, “triangle,” and, “shampoo,” he taught himself to read by age four simply in order to better understand the penultimate trading card game of the day, Pokémon, and by age five an IQ test qualified him to join Mensa. By the same merit at age two he often escaped from his day care, or hid within the premises causing a general panic amongst the staff because he refused to sit, “on his bottom,” and listen to a book at story time, leading to his being expelled from successive daycare agencies, used whatever curses he pleased, and took a rake to the neighbors car. By the time he turned fifteen he had run a successful drug enterprise with a girl he happened to be dating at the time, mostly pot but with a healthy dose of prescription pills and ecstasy, wound up on the streets for nearly a year, sleeping in tweaker pad closets and paying his way with whatever drug money he could hustle along the way, got involved with a group of young adults who saw commercial burglary as a legitimate enterprise, and got pretty damn good at it until a guy he was working with, at the time considered a good friend, got caught and fingered Ken for some time off his sentence, and wound up getting picked up a few days later trying to hop a train to Chicago, out of the desert and away from his pursuers. He met a Cuban guy in kiddie prison who introduced him to Marx and the Communist Manifesto, Che Guevara and Guerrilla Warfare, along with several contacts who would serve him well in the coming years. Slapped with nearly twenty thousand dollars in restitution he went back to slinging. This carried on until it introduced him to a girl as messed up as him, way too young and exquisitely broken. They ran together for years, even wound up an honorary member of her family, until her own personal demons became too much for him to handle. “There’s only so many times you can pull someone you love out of a bathtub with needles sticking out of her arm,” or so he says when asked about what happened to their relationship. She has a daughter who’s either his, or one of his former best friend’s, but she has Ken’s eyes. He thinks about it more often than he’d be like to admit. Whether it was out of revenge or simple animal instinct he started running with one of her now former best friends shortly after things fell through between the two of them, a girl who Ken practically hated. Blonde, stupid, pathetic, white trash – basically everything he disliked in women, and the relationship was based more on cyclical, reciprocal abuse than shared interest and trust, let alone love. Eventually she got sick of it and moved to California, with her mother whom she hadn’t seen in eight years. Got pregnant at a time where it was debatable whether the kid was Ken’s or the guy she immediately shacked up with after arriving, a fact he thinks about nearly so often as the potential daughter with the previous girl. Sick of it all he quit the drug game as soon as he had repaid his debts and started going to college, majoring in physics. Had scholarships, grants, plenty of money to provide for his wants, even started going to Comic Con once a year, and on an international trip every year, eventually introducing him to Damien with whom he stayed when he visited London. This lasted a couple years. Then everything went to shit, government cutbacks took his scholarships, grants, and just about everything else he had come to rely on, forcing him to begin tutoring his younger peers in mathematics and science to afford his own schooling. Couldn’t pay the rent, or put food on the table. Once again he was back to slinging, but this time the game was different. He was an adult, hadn’t been active in years, and the people he used to know had been busted, gotten out or moved on down the road. Besides that people still wanted pot, to be sure, but what they really wanted was the stuff that would keep them up long enough to finish their massive work load without taking much of their higher brain functions from them, allowing them to work a full time job and full time school, often in difficult scientific fields, without passing out from sheer exhaustion. Found a guy who had access to seemingly unlimited speed, and it was the name of the game until finally moving to Georgia, and then to the big city, and getting involved with his current, much more profitable enterprise. Other: Boxed competitively for years, held a perfect thirteen and zero amateur record all by unanimous decision through USA Boxing, and keeps up with his skills. Has been shooting since he was ten, and though liberal enough to question the solidity of American gun laws owns two rifles himself. Militant PETA member, communist party member, and self-proclaimed genius, which is mostly laughed down by his friends and acquaintances, though his acceptance into Mensa gives his claim some credibility. Was offered a role on a Korean teen drama series (as the bad boy American army brat living in Seoul and attending the titular school on which the series was focused) by a well-known Korean casting director, and lost the chance because of his imprisonment. Was offered subsequent roles after getting out, but couldn’t accept due to being unable to legally leave the state of Nevada at the time. Learned passing conversational Japanese and Korean while locked up. Speaks English, French and Spanish fluently. Name: Damien Hayes. Age: Twenty Three. Appearance: Gender: Male. Basic Personality: History: Other: Name: Felix Sadi. Age: Twenty One. Appearance: Gender: Male. Basic Personality: History: Other: ----- ----- ----- So, a few things; 1) Hello I guess. I happened upon the site like a week ago, and have been lurking about, so... Yeah. I'm not new to text based role playing, just this particular site. 2) I wrote all this in like an hour at the middle of the night after more than a few drinks and two pots of coffee, so if it's garbage bear with me? 3) Obviously this is a WIP. Figured I'd put it up now because there's nothing like fresh involvement in a week old thread to get people interested, this concept is great and I'd love to be a part of it and see it succeed. 4) If anything's wrong with my concept or it's just not what your looking for in your role play let me know and I'll edit accordingly or, I suppose if it's too far gone as is, scrap it and do something more typically black hat and Mafioso.
Beats mine out of the water
