Common Bonds Character sheets

[Metronome]

Name: Jack "Black Dog" Sharma
Age: 35
Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight
Race: Indian
Position: Member of the TI-32 gang

Personality: Jack's prime quality is loyalty. He's loyal to his brother, loyal to his gang. He's dependable, which makes him a favorite when something more important or precise needs to be done. Due to Jack's asskissery, he's managed to fall in good favor with the gang's leader, Rusco. Although Jack doesn't particularly like killing and hurting people, he will if it's asked of him.

Other: He has a tattoo of a black dog head on his right shoulder blade.


Appearance: Jack isn't too overly tall, but he's got muscle to make up for it. He stands at 5'7". His skin his a light brown, his hair black and curly. He has a little mustache/beard combo going on there. His eyes are brown. Jack likes to wear sleeveless shirts whenever he can.


History:

Jack and Orren's father was a big time drug dealer in India. When he got a business opportunity over in the States, he didn't hesitate to move himself and his girlfriend of three years overseas. He set up a very large drug operation with the TI-32 gang, spreading drugs as far as Canada. After a couple years, his girlfriend announced she was pregnant, and suggested that their father settled down to raise their family.

However, the boys' father was something of a workaholic. Although he promised he would retire, he continued drug operations behind his new wife's back. This continued for 13 years, until a second baby, Orren, was born. It was only two months afterwards that their father was gunned down by a hitman of the Glasgow Razor gang (who should totally be Eva, if Hellgirl wants :3). Their mother, who had been in the same room when bullets began to fly, was also shot and killed.

Jack, who was 13 at the time, became the main caregiver of Orren, an newborn. He timidly approached the gang, asking for protection. Since his father had been such a loyal member, protection was granted. However, Jack was told that he had some big shoes to fill. Jack swore he would do whatever was asked of him as long as his baby brother didn't have to get involved. This agreement has held true through the years. Orren hangs around the gang's base of operation and does occasional drug runs every now and then, but he's never asked to really get his hands dirty. Jack, on the other hand, up to his neck in shit.

===============================

Name: Orren Sharma
Age: 22, almost 23
Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight
Race: Indian
Position: Member of the TI-32 gang.

Personality: Orren grew up frustrated. He was frustrated that his parents were killed before he ever got the chance to know them, he was frustrated that he had to live in fear every night while kids across the bridge got to sleep safely in their beds. He was frustrated that his older brother continued to treat him like a baby, despite how old he was. All this grew up into an angry little man. Orren is easy to set off, hot tempered, loud mouthed, and rude. Most people take him with a grain of salt; they know that the insults and crudeness that spews from his mouth aren't his actual feelings. He often just does it to make himself look tougher.

Under all the huffing and yelling, Orren is actually something of a softy. He's addicted to mushy romance movies, the cheesier the better, and made Jack swear up and down he wouldn't tell anyone when he found Orren watching the Notebook and crying his eyes out.

Appearance: Orren is short, standing at 5'5". His skin is a bit browner than his brothers, from being out in the sun no doubt. His hair is kept shorter, with more a wavy texture than his brother's curls. His eyes are brown.


History:

See Jack's history.

==============================

Name: Dylan Moore
Age: 25
Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight
Race: Caucasian
Position: Male prostitute

Personality: Dylan is a man of denial. He'll swear up and down that everything is just fine, just to spare those around him the trouble of fixing his messes. He means well, but he often does his own self more harm than good. He's not the brightest tool in the shed, and he's well aware of that. Having been told that his own sense of judgement sucks, he just let's his 'friends' make all his decisions for him. This has led to him being easily manipulated, used, and exploited. Possibly the most frustrating part of his personality is his sheer apathy towards his dismal situation. He doesn't care that the people he trusts use him on a day to day basis. He doesn't care that he's living a hollow existence. He doesn't care what happens to him. As long as he can take his happy pills and pretend everything is okay, that everyone is happy and that the world is sunshine and rainbows, he'll be forever dismally optimistic.

Appearance: Dylan is a tall and lanky man, standing at a staggering 6'6". He could do with a little weight gain; his constant intake of drug cocktail have taken a toll on his body. The picture shown is Dylan on a good day. His naturally curly, brown hair is typically limp and bedraggled. He doesn't take very good care of himself. His brown eyes are akin to a sad hound dog, coupled with a smile that hides tries to hide them. His skin is fair.


History: Dylan grew up with a rather unsavory parental situation. His father was in prison for the majority of Dylan's childhood, and had no interest in seeing him once he got out. Dylan's mother would rather drink with her friends than take care of him. His education was spotty. He went to a public school on one of the shadier sides of town, where the teachers feared the students and would rather pass them with false grades then have them return to their class. Dylan was never a favorite among the faculty.

Having grown up around drugs and alcohol, it wasn't hard for him to get into it. By the age 16, he'd tried most things the dealers of the city had to offer. He knew most of them on a first name basis. Being the naive and easy going guy he was, it was only a matter of time before someone decided to take advantage of him. This came in the form of a couple of 'friends'. They gained his trust by hooking him up with good dealers, then slowly isolated him from his other friends.

By the time Dylan was out of highschool, these two girls had him eating out of their hands. He never bothered looking for any jobs; they promised they already had something set up for him. They informed him of an middle aged widow down the block from them that was looking for some guy to get with during the night, no strings attached, just collect the money when they're through. Dylan had no real interest in the offer, but they pressured him into it by bribing him with drugs and a share of the money.

One woman became two. Two became five. Soon, Dylan was being rented out to every lonely female in the city. His cut of the money slowly dwindled until he was being paid almost exclusively with drugs. His two pimpettes had a whole system going: keep Dylan so doped up that he would do just about anything, take the money he made and give him cheap drugs in return, and keep expanding their clientele. Almost everything Dylan has said he wouldn't do (kinks, sexual roleplaying, degrading himself), he has been connived into doing. He only has one line he refuses to cross: he won't do males.

[salamimike]

Name: Flint White
Age: 24
Gender:Male
Sexuality:Bi
Race: Caucasian
Position: Arms Dealer
Personality:
Flint loves money, almost as much as he loves guns. He can tell you all you need to know about firearms and takes pride in giving his customers what they need. He will never short change anyone, and will always give a gun that is worth the price he is selling. Because of this he is respected in most people and, despite being a little more expensive than other dealers, they know they can trust him to give them the best he has to offer. Flint trusts his regular customers, becoming friends with them and maybe even giving them deals on certain firearms. Despite this normally friendly face if someone double crosses him, Flint has links to gangs that will bring street justice onto those who oppose him. He is an alcoholic but does not do drugs, leaving that behind when he started the gun trade.
Appearance:
6 feet tall, Wears white shirt and black suit pants underneath red hoodie.

History:
Flint began his life as anyone else does in the slums, poor and hungry. He was a smart kid but felt school was a waste of time and with his father away in some other country and his mother not caring about her son, he inevitably went to crime for money. He started his criminal life style as a drug runner, moving drugs from one dealer to the next. Through this work he began to see more and more firearms a day. He was fascinated by them, how they could equal the playing field and he soon began to learn more about them. Sooner or later he became a gun runner and from there slowly, rose to becoming his own dealer, keeping connection from his old drug running days. He now owns a respectful business dealing with gangs and common folk a like. If they have the money. Flint has the guns.
Other:
"Whether your defending your home, scared for your life or just need someone dead. Flint has what you need"
"The first and most important rule of gun-running is: Never get shot with your own merchandise." - Yuri Orlov -Lord Of War

[HellGirl13]

,

[Quadrophenia]

He usually wears a polo shirt with a harrington jacket over it accomponied with jeans and white sneakers.
Name: Ewan Renton 'Renton'
Age: 36
Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight
Race: Caucasion
Position: Gang leader/pub owner

Personality: Renton is about as stereotypical as it gets. He's an angry, alcoholic and very violent. But along with this, he is very ambitious and a great friend to have if you can actually relate to him long enough as to not anger him. He knows how to operate his gang to a high standard and has been doing so for many years.

He is ruthless towards enemies and traitors and won't hesitate to deal with said traitors and enemies by himself.

History:
Renton was born in Glasgow, Scotland. His young life was filled with the same poverty and crime that later gained him his trip to America and the goods that came with the trip. He was born to a drug abuser mother and an absent father, he and his mother lived in a council flat and it was a miracle that Renton made it past his baby years. His mother often passed out on drugs or was just too blazed out of her mind to actually feed or care for Renton a lot of the time.

Renton got his first taste of crime at the young age of nine. He was stopped on the way home from school by a small time drug dealer who essentially forced him to deliver a message to a higher up under death threat. Renton was soon recruited as a 'messenger' for the drug gang and began to grow through the ranks as he aged. He was soon dealing drugs by his high school years.

He dabbled with drug use for a bit in his late teens, but later quit after he saw the effects of it on his now deceased mother. He grew close to the boss of the gang and began to see the old, violent man as a father figure. Soon enough, Renton was promoted to the gangs head enforcer after his displays of violence against those who couldn't pay up for the drugs sold ran out of things to steal. He became known throughout the various gangs and streets for his brutal methods of extortion. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the addicted began to pay up a lot more often now that Renton was about.

By his early 20s, Renton was the second highest member of the gang. The previous having been killed in a gang war. He learned a lot from the gangs leader and began to 'micro-manage' in a sort of way. Soon enough though, the leader of the gang died of old age and Renton was left to take over the gang. The first few weeks were rocky for him, he had trouble gaining respect from those who had joined before him and had more trouble with getting his name on the street as a leader and not just an enforcer. He soon gained respect after he waged war on a rival gang and then stomped them out of their own territory and took it for his own.

As time went on, Renton gained more and more territory and sold more and more drugs, eventually reaching the point where there was little to no competition for him anymore. He made the drastic decision to move to greener pastures and began his operation in America. He had considered moving to France because of the fact that it was closer to Scotland, but decided that the already booming drug industry in America would welcome him with open arms.

Renton brought a few men with him, but soon recruited some low lifes from America, he found people were more willing to buy from people with the same accent as them. He then gained a rather large base of regular customers and began to expand his territory. Eventually expanding onto another gangs territory. After a few petty squabbles he met with the gangs leader, Roy Eisenhart. They soon found common interests and decided it would be better if they began to work together. Not joining the gangs together, but more of having their gangs work in cooperation with each other.

Years later, Renton and Roy had become best friends and still operate their drug work to a satisfying degree.

Other:

[Sixx]

---

Name: Eros Arco
Age: 22
Gender: Female

---

Sexuality: Straight, but she's open to ideas
Race: White American
Position: drug user, but she deals a little on the side.

---

Personality: Eros is one of those people who, according to her, has never, ever done anything wrong. She'd like to think she was the innocent flower, whose life had just not been kind to her and, through a series of unfortunate incidents, she landed up in the slums, but the reality she's more like the serpent underneath. Manipulative yet charming, she's the kind of girl that strongly believes that, not only does the world revolve around her, but literally anything is possible when you have a pretty face. And fortunately enough for her, she's always known she was pretty. If she's not aimlessly trying to double cross you for no other reason than she can, she's actually pretty friendly, and would happily defend those she considers 'friends' as if her life counted on it. Having said that, however, if it came down to it, and she really had to risk her life to save someone else, she'd happily push them under the bus in the name of self preservation. In her head, she always come first. No exceptions.

Appearance: Eros is skinny, unnaturally so, but then again, what can you expect when you spend half your time on drugs that restrict your appetite? Her dirty blonde hair naturally sits half way down her back, but she often finds she can't be bothered dealing with it as it's too curly, and tangles easily, so ties it up in a high ponytail. The little money Eros does actually make goes on keeping herself clean, mainly. It's always been said that, for someone who lives in the slums, she's surprisingly well kept. She can most often be seen in a bright red lipstick to contrast her pale skin and gold toned eyeshadow to highlight her emerald eyes. Some say she spends too much on make up, but it's gotten to the point where she really couldn't care less.

---

History: Born and raised on the North side of the river, Eros' life wasn't always as dirty as it is now. Her parents divorced when she was little and her dad moved out, but that didn't mean her mother couldn't provide for the family sufficiently. It meant she was out a lot though, always busy with work or going on an endless amount of first dates with men that she'd met over the internet. There wasn't enough time in the day to care for a daughter that was just going to school, and so Eros learnt to take care of herself, and ensure that if she couldn't get attention from her mum, she'd make sure she got it from everyone else.

By high school, she almost popular. The friends she'd had were ones she'd gained when she was younger, sticking her claws into the smart kids, the naive kids, anyone that she could twist around her finger by batting her eyelashes and pretending she needed their help. She was under the impression that she could do anything as long as she was pretty, but the obsession with beauty quickly turned toxic. She found herself restricting her eating so she could lose weight, telling her friends she'd already eaten so she could skip meals, hell, even throwing her fingers down her throat to purge her stomach of its contents every once in a while. She didn't see the problem with it, but she also knew she couldn't tell anyone, so she didn't. She kept it secret and kept it hidden, offering the whole world the same smile every day, just as long as she just kept losing weight. She became very secretive, quickly pulling away from the friends she'd gained over the years in favor of her own company, maybe some alcohol every once in a while.

It threw her home life way out of whack. By the time all this had happened, her mother had actually settled down and found a boyfriend, someone that could take care of Eros and her mother, if only Eros thought she needed taking care of. She was determined that she didn't need her mum or her boyfriend anymore, so set in the idea that they didn't really understand what was going on, and couldn't help even if they tried. She just needed a way out, a way to pull away from the few people that actually still gave a crap about her. And that's when she met Reed, part time jackass and full time druggie.

Reed was older, you see. Reed was the kind of guy girls only dreamed of meeting and dating. He was hot, mysterious, and old enough to have a house of his own, who cared if it was on the South side of the city? A house was a house, right? Or, that's what Eros thought anyway. She fell into a toxic relationship with the guy, he'd let her stay if she gave him what he wanted, whenever he wanted it. He introduced her to his 'friends', and it wasn't long until the social pressure drove her to drugs, and lots of them. To put it simply, if you can think of it, Eros probably did it. It didn't take long for her and Reed to fall out, however, as she was too stubborn to do some of the things he wanted, and she'd be damned if someone else told her what to do. So she left and found a place of her own, selling the drugs she didn't actually take to get by. It wasn't a pretty life, but she enjoyed it all the same.
----

[The Incredible John]

Name: John "Lab Rat" Salsades
Age: 25
Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight
Race: Asian
Position: Illicit drugs/medication producer and supplier

Personality: John is somewhat paranoid and distrustful around strangers and he has every right to be. Being in his line of work, he has to take extreme precaution to avoid a trip downtown. He only sells he's wares to people he trust, like Raymond Skalter and Eros Arco, and he only conducts business when he is absolutely sure that nobody else is watching. He has his whole house and drug lab rigged with improvised explosive ready to bury the evidence if the cops come knocking(Which is really stupid seeing that he doesn't have any emergency exit if the cops do come or if something goes wrong). Constantly watching his back, John can't take it easy and relax for one second before being overly suspicious of something in his surrounding. This doesn't mean that John can't be reasonable, it just takes some time. John can also be civilized and act with class if he wants or needs to. Other than that, John is just your regular run of the mill, overly suspicious drug-lab operator.

Other:
Known "associates":
Raymond Skalter
Eros Arco

Appearance:

(Yup, I'm using Spike Spiegel because every other picture of an anime guy out there is too "bishonen").

History: John Salsades is a third-generation Filipino-American born is Austin, Texas. He's dad worked as a corporate employee of some insurance firm and he's mom was a grade school science teacher. Growing up, John was one of those loner, "nerd" types who would have few friends, get good grades and get bullied from time to time. He went on to high school without changing. He stil was the shy guy who would have 3 friends and avoid social contact. All that changed in collage. As he entered his freshman year taking a degree in medicine, John found himself at one party after another. Life in collage was a strange mix of rigorous studies and ridiculous, over-the-top social activities. John barely survived his freshman year but he tried his best keep his grades up while partying like an animal. Things eventually became better as John entered his sophomore year as he was more able to handle his schedule. However John's life would go downhill during his junior year. Being the social animal he became during his time in collage, John had a little romantic episode with a lady named Cassie Gordon. During their rather sort relationship, another guy who was taking up political science in the same university started telling John to back off Cassie and even threatened him if he did not. Of course John called him out on this and one night they got into a drunken brawl about it. Also after a week after their relationship started, John and Cassie called it off and started their own separate ways. Of course shortly after their break up, Cassie was found dead in her apartment, she overdosed on cocaine and was never able to call for help. John's rival blamed this on John and still harbored hatred from beating him up on the streets, even though he started it. It turns out that the guy was very well connected and pulled every string he got to ruin John's life as possible. What they found out is that John was friends with a certain campus drug dealer who may have sold Cassie the coke she took. That was it but the guy and he's associates blew things way out of proportion and made it look like John wanted Cassie dead after the break up so he made her take way too much blow then she ought have took. John was arrested on charges but was never convicted by the court. He's name was so tarnished however that he was kicked out of his university and it was made clear that John would never be able to enter another education establishment for as long as he lived.

Enraged and depressed, John had no other choice but to accept his fate and do whatever he can to stay alive. He was forced to travel from one city to another, constantly changing jobs because he couldn't keep any stable ones. He was about to lose hope when he met a friend who told him about the growing need for narcotics in big cities. Of course he didn't now a single thing about making drugs. He started his way through the ladder by helping some of his friends grow marijuana in small apartments. He then started reading chemistry textbooks and searching the web on how to make more potent meds. It took him some time but he eventualy found out how to make meth, designer drugs, LSD and heroin. He went to Calson City, where he heard people where getting trouble getting a hold of their fix. He quickly set up shop and started producing stuff the regular dealers just couldn't find. This attracted a lot of attention from the cops but he was able to pay them off. Some of dealers got a little jealous about the new upstart and started "persuading him" to leave town. When John refused, he found himself having to duck drive-by's every so often. John then made deals with the cops, ratting out on the competition, thus earning his name "Lab rat". Ever since those days, John has been pumping out chems like a pharmaceutical factory with his small lab underneath his small house in the slums. He also rarely gets out of the house seeing as he could find himself with a rain of lead if he did. With all the chems he makes, John has quite a small fortune in dirty money that he couldn't launder all at once unless he wanted the feds kicking down his door. So John is stuck in the slum with a small vault full of cash, making drugs and is constantly in fear of being shot inside his own home.

[Adriane]

Name: Born Hailey Thomas, known as Persephone (Per) Davis
Position: Property of the TI-32 gang leader, Rusco

Personality: Per is hardened, staying pretty reserved and detached from everyday on-goings in an attempt to stay sane. She comes off as surprisingly easy-going. She's developed a sick sense of humor, and can be pretty crude and brutal at times. She isn't one to sugarcoat anything, but depending on who she's dealing with and what situation she's in she will adjust herself to make sure she stays alive. Her main priority is survival, and she'll do whatever it takes to achieve it. Due to her past, when she is faced with violence of any kind towards her, she turns off. Her face is vacant and her mind is elsewhere, trying to keep her safe away from the threat. Where she used to have a soft spot for those less fortunate than her, she now cannot stand anyone she sees as weak, especially women.

Appearance:

Persephone!

Long blonde hair, hazel eyes, stands at five foot seven with a willowy build. Across her body she has scattered fading white scars, but on her back is a long pink one.

History: When Persephone was seven, her mother took a fatal trip down a flight of stairs. Immediately after, she developed a tick of punching herself. A year later, when her step-mother got mugged and killed, she tripped in the park and broke her leg. And once the women in the neighborhood started to stay away from her father. Persephone split her head open on the dining room table.

At least, that's what they told the doctors. But when Persephone turned eighteen and started whipping herself, no one was surprised that she went missing.

What they didn't know was that she had taken her boyfriend and ran, getting fake IDs and making it to the nearest city that had slot machines and wouldn't recognize her as the mayor's daughter. They hid out there for a few years, until her boyfriend borrowed some money he couldn't pay back in time.

It was the middle of the night when they broke in, shot him in the head, and took Per and everything she owned. For the next six months or so they sold everything she had for drugs they fed her, and then they passed her around. Most of the gang were as bad as her father had been, but she knew they would not be as easy to run from.

And then a drug deal went wrong, and they had to run - fast. They moved a few cities over and set up shop on TI-32 turf. They didn't even make it two days before TI-32 broke in and raided the place. They took everything and shot everyone - except her. Rusco found her in a back room, and before he had a chance to raise his gun she was telling him about the drug exchange they had set up for the next day, and how he'd be able to collect on it if he let her talk to them. He regarded her with great suspicion, but the deal came through and she proved to be surprisingly useful. The boss took her in as an informant, but he kept her as his call girl.

Other: She doesn't have much of a hand in the gang fights or drug deals, though she's still used to gather information from time to time. Rusco took a peculiar liking to her, and will on occasion bring her on excursions as good luck. He is also not violent towards her and is very particular that she belongs to him and no one else in the gang. She's treated as just another member of the gang to the others and while she's not ecstatic about where she is and what she's doing, she definitely prefers it to how her life was before Rusco took her.

[Larfleeze]

Name: Roy 'Cyclops' Eisenhart
Age: 32
Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Race: African Germanic
Position: Gang Leader of the Iron Hearts

Personality: Roy is foul mouthed and views gang life as a game, though he does take it seriously. Treats his gang fairly, though he will be coldly strict towards them if they cross him, usually this involves new recruits making 'one eye' jokes. Willing to do anything to protect his own position as well as his gang's, will even use his police contacts to fabricate evidence to convict rival gang members and imprison them, taking them out of 'the game'.

Other: Is in an alliance with the Glasgow Razor Gang.

Appearance


Doesn't bother on fancy clothes or suits, believes the money can be better used in supplies and weapons for the Ironhearts

History: In 1937, Roy's Jewish Great-Grandparents, Erik and Eva Eisenhart were disgusted with the Nuremburg Laws which were now in full swing all over Germany, out of a job and with no money they decided to illegally emigrate to safety. Working with a sympathetic friend and neighbour, they planned to smuggle themselves and their son, Roy's Grandfather named Hans, out of Germany before things became dangerous. The plan did not come into fruition due to the fact it was interrupted by the Kristallnacht in the closing months of 1938 where Jewish homes, stores and synagogues were looted and ransacked while the German authorities looked the other way.

During a scuffle which unfortunately earned Erik and Eva imprisonment and later death in a concentration camp, Hans managed to escape from the Nazis and later procured himself passage aboard one of the first trains called the Kindertransport, a massive rescue mission organised by the British in the aftermath of the Kristallnacht in which they retrieved thousands of Jewish children in Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia, Poland, and the Free City of Danzig by train. The train headed to the Netherlands, then to a port in Harwich, by a cross-channel ferry. From the port, a train took him to Liverpool Street Station in London, where he was met by his foster parents, Judith and Edward Williams.

Life with the Williams' wasn't so bad, especially since they had a young son three years his junior named James. Hans befriended James despite the language barrier between them, as they grew up Hans was taught English by the Williams, he even taught James some German to make his English lessons easier. Years later Hans married a girl from Edinburgh named Adaline who moved to Liverpool in 1956, he kept the name Eisenhart in honour of his parents, a decade and a half later they had a son, Roy's father named Eric, named so in a similar gesture.

Eric growing up renounced the Jewish faith of his father and grandfather which strained their relationship, they haven't spoken in years. Eric eventually moved to America to get away from everything, more specifically the slums of Calson City as he had little money and was forced to live in poverty. At age 35, Eric developed depression and became a drug addict, this pushed him into an unavoidable slippery slope of alcohol and prostitutes, one of which would eventually be Roy's mother in 2009 when Eric was 38.

Abandoned by his father and single handedly raised by his mother, that is when she was actually around, Roy's childhood was rough like most children in the slums. Surrounded by gang violence, drugs, thieves and criminals, Roy would eventually get his debut of criminality at the age of 10 when he came across a group of drug smugglers who recruited him into their gang as their drug courier, his mother either didn't know or cared. Rising through the ranks, Roy quickly learned the ropes of the drug trade, until someday at the age of 15 he found an aging junkie with visible signs of drug abuse, begging for the next fix. Up until this point, Roy was generally oblivious of the extent of the damage that drugs could do to someone as well as the fact this junkie was his father. Sickened with shade that was once Eric, Roy left his father, his mother and the gang to live on his own, this would not provide him with money or food however, so he was forced to go back to crime, knowing they would not let him back in he formed his own gang basing it on the english translation of his second name, Iron Heart.

The Iron Hearts gained recruits and territory surprisingly fast, they even managed to have a piece of every criminal trade in the city and becoming one of the top gangs in the city. Although they faced many aggressive territory expansions from other lesser gangs, they still kept their status as top dog, until the Glasgow Razor Gang attempted one of these expansions several times. This quickly ended, not by force, but by meeting with the gang leader, Ewan Renton. After finding out they had similar experiences and interests they decided it would be better if they cooperated with each other and formed an alliance.

Years later, Renton and Roy have stayed best friends and still operate their criminal undertakings together, becoming the two most powerful gangs in the slums.

[shivershiver]

Clint Parker

Name: Clint Parker
Age: 35
Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Race: Caucasian
Position: Wheelman/Vigilante

Appearance: Clint stands at 6’0 with broad shoulders and lean muscle, weighing in at 190 lbs. His hands are rough and strong from a life of working on his vehicles, but fumble with more precise work, a few of his knuckles having broken and mended improperly. His right pinkie finger is missing from the first knuckle up, leaving a rounded stump. Most of his body is a mess of scars and tattoos accumulated over time, most faded, and others very new. While some might consider scars to be attractive, few would consider those that mar Clint’s skin very appealing. Most are non-uniform splashes of rough flesh from burns or road rash, but a few, like the two that dig into his cheek, have been acquired through other means. Where there are no scars, Parker has filled his skin with large tattoos, ranging from Japanese-esque murals to simple, sprawling designs, none with any deep meaning.

History: Clint Parker never really had much of a chance at a normal life. His mother, Charlize, was a young woman who left her home in search of fame as a showgirl in Las Vegas. The naive girl was quickly seduced by a young man with a passion for cars, who later came to be Clint’s father. The man left Charlize, never knowing she was pregnant, forcing her to bear the full burden of an infant son with no means of an income and no family in Vegas. Without any other option, Clint’s mother resorted to prostitution in order to feed her child, often neglecting her own health for his. Much to Charlize’s disappointment, Parker slid through school with few interests, barely passing his classes. He deeply yearned to know his father’s identity, but was only told that his dad’s hobby was working on vehicles.

Seeking a connection to his absent father, Clint took this to the extreme, revolving his whole world around engines. From a young age, he worked in a ratty mechanic’s shop, absorbing everything he could about the rugged vehicles that came into the garage. When he turned 16, his first action was to purchase a beat-up motorcycle, which he rode constantly with fervent zeal. Clint also frequented the Church of the Latter-Day Saints with his mom from a young age, and the two were accepted graciously into the community. Parker dropped out of high school his final year when his mother died of unknown causes, the virus acting very rapidly on her already weakened body. Seeing no future for him in his hometown, he moved to Los Angeles with nothing but his bike and the clothes on his back, similar to his mother. His goals, however, were a little more realistic. With his vast knowledge of vehicles, Clint found a job in a decent mechanic shop within the city run by an older man named Luke. The aged mechanic, witnessing Parker’s skills as a driver on race tracks, recognized his unique skill set and offered him a different type of employment in addition to working in his shop. Luke suggested that Clint serve as a getaway driver for criminals on occasion, knowing several men within the criminal network. Luke told Clint that in his youth, he did the same, and saw the same abilities in him. Clint reluctantly took the job, for his mother and the Mormon Church instilled a strong sense of morals in him, but he was desperately hurting for cash. He slowly sank into the criminal world, building a modest reputation for himself.

At 27, Parker met a beautiful Italian woman of the same age at the mechanic shop when she took her beat-up car in. Having no vehicle for the night, Clint gave her a ride home and learned her name was Florenda Marino, and, like his mother, she sought fame in Hollywood. The two quickly developed an intimate relationship, with Clint constantly urging Florenda to pursue her dreams, as if to redeem his mother’s failed ones. Despite Clint’s relatively quiet disposition, the couple seemed to be made for each other. Unfortunately, after three years, Florenda broke off their relationship, always fearing he was involved in criminal activity. The apartment, while modest, was much nicer than what a mechanic could afford. Some nights, Parker would be out until the next morning, though he never reeked of booze as one would expect. She realized just how dangerous he was when he burst into their apartment with a gunshot wound to his shoulder and hastily pried the bullet out, asking her to stitch the open hole. Florenda helped him, then promptly packed her bags and left. The last time he saw the woman, her stomach was looking slightly larger than usual, but he thought nothing of it.

Clint continued his life without Florenda, though with less enthusiasm and ambition. He began questioning his life as a criminal, albeit a fairly tame one, and if it was one he could truly be proud of. Luke, however, was practically a father to him, and constantly encouraged his illegal career, so he stuck with his life as a wheelman. In the back of his mind, though, Parker felt he should become something greater than a glorified criminal. One day, a small package was delivered to the mechanic’s apartment filled with his mother’s belongings, sent by the current occupant of his run-down childhood home. He found a photo of his mother with a man whose features were very similar to his, and Clint assumed this man to be his father. He also found an unsent letter with an address in Calson City, and upon opening it discovered it was meant to be sent to his father. With these in tow, Clint left his home once more, the wheels of his bike pointing to Calson City.

Parker never found his father, only traces of the man. What he did find in Calson City, however, was more work. The south side was teeming with criminals seeking to score jobs in the north and get away with their loot, and luckily Clint had just the skill set they needed. He kept this up for a few years, still searching for his dad, but another burning passion slowly replaced it; the struggle of the sick, weak, and poor. Clint was constantly a witness to the suffering of these poor souls at the hands of gangsters, and slowly began fighting back the constant waves of filth oppressing the helpless. His days became split between defending the poor from criminals and helping the very same gangs get away from sinister crimes. Clint doesn’t dress up in spandex and fight using his utility belt and ancient martial arts; the truth is much less romantic. His uniform is whatever street clothes he happens to have, along with a black loop scarf pulled over his nose to conceal his identity. He uses a handgun, police baton, and brute strength to achieve his goals. In his free time, though, Clint still actively searches for signs of his father. All the while, both of his reputations, one as a criminal and the other as a savior, continue to grow.

Personality: Like his life in Calson City, Clint’s personality is split in two. When working as a getaway driver, he is a shrewd and stiff individual, never laughing and using few words. Clint is concerned only with doing his job and surviving to be paid, and if that means taking another life, he will do so in a heartbeat. Parker does not fraternize with his “co-workers” and never revealing anything about his personal life or beliefs to ensure they don’t discover his other life. He is practically a machine whose sole purpose is to evade authorities, and he does a fine job of it, hence his clean criminal record. Clint is the perfect getaway driver, never asking any questions, and doing exactly as he is told. Whether or not he takes pleasure in these actions is unknown.

Outside of his work, Clint still maintains his relative stoic demeanor, although to a lesser degree. He loosens up tremendously, but is still extremely hesitant to trust anyone. His strong morals are exceptionally apparent, many of which stem from his time in the Mormon Church. While his time within the community was limited, he was accepted as a member, and the lessons he learned are still evident more than a decade later, although his faith in God is uncertain at best. Parker possesses a strong desire to do good in the world, and even more so now to counteract the work he does with criminals in order to survive. He is very charitable to those less fortunate than him, donating his time and much of his money to the poor stuck in the slums. Clint doesn’t sleep around much, unlike many who take advantage of the desperate south-side girls, and he is very compassionate towards prostitutes, this weakness stemming from his mother. Having seen the suffering she constantly endured to raise him, Clint is willing to assist any of these individuals, even allowing some to sleep in his apartment building. Parker also avoids all vices, like alcohol, gambling, and drugs, as he sees daily how they tear people apart.

When Parker conceals his face and defends the weak, these traits still exist, but are combined with a great deal of wrath towards those who seek to harm the poor. He tries not to kill the perpetrator, usually opting for a good beating with his police baton, but if the crime is more heinous than others, or the offender is putting up a good fight, Parker may draw his pistol and wound them. In several cases, Clint has savagely beaten men to death, sometimes with his bare hands, in a fit of blind rage, usually when he arrived too late to stop them. In even more severe instances, the criminal begged on their knees for mercy, but Clint simply placed a bullet in the back of their head, although he is trying to stray away from murder. Still, his sleep is rarely affected by these actions, as he finds them entirely justified. What keeps him staring at his ceiling is the victim of the crime, sprawled out on the filthy concrete with no one caring about their broken body.

Other: Clint is armed with a 21” extendable friction-locked police baton along with a .45 handgun from 2015. He is also the proud owner of a black Japanese sports bike from 2019, which he maintains with the utmost care. Parker doesn’t like running for extended periods of time, as he broke his left knee many years ago and the injury still pains him with extended use.

[LetterA]

"God help the outcasts."

Name: Angel Ramirez
Alias: Canary
Age: Eighteen
Gender: Male

Sexuality: He's not too sure.
Race: Filipino/Portuguese
Position: Prostitute

Personality: Angel can't speak. He wasn't born mute, so he could speak if he wanted to, but there's something in his head that keeps him shut up. This puts off clients at first, but when they learn he can still grunt and groan, they end up appreciating it. He's very thankful over anything, and prays every time he goes to bed. THe boy always has a sense of gratefulness over anyone that does him a small favour, thinking it proper that he repay them somehow. Although it would seem so, Angel isn't dependent on everything. For instance, lately, he's been allowed to choose his customers instead of being shoved into a room. Well, he still ends up going with whoever waves money in front of him, but the point is, he's had the option and makes a decision to say- or nod- yes instead of having someone else do it. He defends things smaller than him with a feiry passion, and considering his five foot even and eighty something pounds, anything smaller than him probably isn't worth protecting. He tries his best anyways.
Angel's also got a thing for visiting church whenever he can.

History: As far as histories go, Angel's is pretty average. Well, for anyone living where he's living, anyways. God knows where his father went, and to supply for both her son and her drug addiction (moreso the latter than anything), his mother sold herself off in the streets- she was a pureblood filipino that had features less of a hispanic and more of an asian. Her whole 'exotic' spiel really sold. And perhaps that's where the problems lied.

Most of the time, Angel's mother was at the whore house showering before she left somewhere else, and most of the time, Angel was there too. There was where he learned that women sometimes had knives between their thighs. There was where he learned that some women had similar scars over their stomachs. But it was also there where he learned to laugh, despite not being fed for three days. His mother was the one that taught him how to do her hair up properly before she left for work, and the other women had him running them errands- "grab that needle for me, Angel", "get me water, birdy", "run this over to the church, babe". From helping clear the doorway of an unconcious- or dead- skeleton of a woman to sneaking some of Heather's pills for Candy who needed a quick fix, Angel was their little errand boy. He sometimes even ran drugs to the nearby priest at church.

And there was where his problems greatened. He sang for the church sometimes, see- that's why he's called the little Canary- and he often spent a lot of time with the Father. He was the one that taught Angel about angels and God and while the little boy really didn't believe that shit considering his situation and the fact that the priest snorted crap, the Father was his only male influence. He spent a lot of time after masses with the priest, and back then he could talk, talk like anything. He'd talk about the angels and he'd talk about his day and he'd talk about his mother and he'd talk about his hunger.

Then one day the incident happened. And it happened again, and again, and again. And the Father explained this was what Angel was meant to do, and then on Easter Sunday, Angel's voice disappeared. They were caught, Angel had stayed out too late, a kind hearted hooker went to look for him and found him. "Oh my god, oh my god," was all she repeated as she freaked out, knocking the priest out. There was a loud noise and Angel wasn't sure what she had used, but soon he found himself swaddled up in her arms as she cried out God's name in vain, hobbling on her stilletos back to the house.

His mother was thrilled. His mother's boss was thrilled. Angel wasn't sure where the woman who picked him up went, but he knew she'd told both his mom and her boss about what'd happened. And his mom was more than excited to sell off her son if that meant she'd get more money, and her boss was thrilled because there were always customers for young meat like Angel.

At first, Angel fought back. But you know, he was still pretty small and young compared to the others, and when he realized nothing he could do would stop them, he eventually gave up. His mother died a couple years into it, and Angel kept being put to work. He met a woman at the steps of the church doors, and she told him he'd take him in. Not really sure what else to do, he accepted her offer.

Turns out, he just moved to a different, smaller group of hookers. He didn't work at first, eating whatever food they offered, stuffing his face with anything and everything. He vomited nonstop the first two times- his small body wasn't used to that much food all at once. A month later, the girl asked him how old he was. A week after that, after Angel heard her and another girl- the two were girlfriends maybe- argue a bit, Angel was put back on the market. He doesn't work on a certain side of town, though, afraid of whatever would happen if he came across old "friends".

Other: He's got several bruises and cuts pretty much all the time, but his most notable marking on his body is the burn like scar on his right hip.
Angel also smells really nice.

[Embrz]

Name: Nicole Chang
Age: 19
Gender: Female

Sexuality: Asexual
Race: Asian
Position: Petty thief; also skilled at parkour

Personality: Nicole's time on the streets has broken her emotionally and psychologically. The horrors and atrocities she has witnessed and faced over the course of her life in the slums have torn her apart mentally and broken her into almost nothing. She has taken a vow of silence; she communicates solely through her body language. She has serious trust issues; she lives with the inevitable feeling that she is going to be betrayed sooner or later. As such, she never sticks around anywhere for much longer than she needs to.

Even should she find someone she trusts and wants to stay with, Nicole's meek and quiet demeanor makes her a difficult person to get to know. The few people in her life that she actually tried to befriend ultimately left her behind, viewing her as too weak and submissive in order to survive. And on top of that, she suffers from poor self-esteem and no real willpower. As such, she is easily swayed and manipulated, quickly becoming a follower of a stronger, dominant personality. If she isn't failing to befriend somebody she feels comfortable with, she's being controlled and subdued into following someone else.

Against all odds, however, Nicole can survive on her own. While her lack of self-esteem prevents her from taking risks and expanding her horizons, she has enough self-confidence to understand where her capabilities lie and know her limits. She's too submissive to go out of her way to prove something to someone on her own, but there's enough of her confidence left to keep her going on her own.

Appearance: Nicole is small. She stands at four feet, eleven inches, and has a solid runner's body, though undernourished.



History: The first thing Nicole can remember is sitting alone on a street corner in the slums at about three years of age. No parents, no guardians. Just her and a small, palm-sized stuffed panda bear that looks like it's seen much better days. She's forgotten much of what happens after that until about age seven, at which point she begins to recall a tall, kind man that looked out for her and cared for her: Charlie. He taught her how to survive in the streets and raised her for the next five years. From her mentor and guardian, Nicole learned a several useful skills for survival in the slums: how to steal, how to remain invisible while doing so, and how to run if you fail - or known more colloquially, parkour.

Her thievery began at age nine. While with her guardian scavenging for food, Nicole began a game with him. Whenever Charlie would place food in his bag, she would sneak up on him and remove it, placing it somewhere else for him to pick up and restart the cycle. After ten extra minutes of scavenging than should have been necessary, Charlie caught on to Nicole's tricks. Rather than scold her for her actions, however, he decided to harness her talent. Charlie took her stuffed panda and hid it in his pocket. He told her that if she wanted it back, she would have to take it from him without him noticing. And if he noticed, it would turn into a game of tag. Once he caught her, the game would restart. It was in this manner that Nicole became proficient in thievery and parkour.

Charlie and Nicole began to use her skills to their advantage. They would take any supplies they came across: clothes, food, any form of tools. If they could use it, Nicole would take it. In their small corner of the slums, Charlie and Nicole were known for their exploits. And for the most part, those exploits were too small to be noticed by any of the bigger fish in the sea.

But of course, all good things come to an end. And for Charlie, there was no worse end it could have come to.

While running from a failed steal when she was twelve, Nicole slipped from a rooftop and into an alleyway below, right on top of an arms deal that was taking place between two local gangs. Paranoia kicked in amongst the gang members. Accusations were thrown, weapons were drawn, and threats were shouted as Nicole realized she was about to get caught in the crossfire of a gang war. In a panic, she tried to talk down both sides of the battle, but to no avail.

As the firing started, Charlie arrived to pull Nicole out of the alleyway. They began to run from the ensuing battle; just before they were about to escape, Charlie took a bullet to the leg. This turned into a bullet in the hip, which turned into a bullet in the shoulder. Nicole could do nothing but watch as the only person she ever knew died before her eyes.

The last thing he gave her was the panda.

Somehow, her twelve year old mind connected her failure to talk down the gangs with Charlie's death, thus sparking her vow of silence. For seven years, Nicole has lived a quiet, lonely life. She steals to survive, and she keeps a low profile, away from the eyes of the more violent members of the slum society. And every night before she sleeps, Nicole takes the panda and remembers her only friend.

[LetterA]

"You just gotta pretend you don't feel it, that it don't feel weird. Just try and walk normally."

Name: Tsang "Kristy" Hoi
Age: Twenty-seven
Gender: Female

Sexuality: Swings in all sorts of ways
Race: Chinese
Position: Mule

Personality: Kristy's a fun gal- as long as your definition of fun meant drugs, sex, and alcohol. Which, in the crowd she rolled in, it usually was. She's got a thing for singing in the shower- whenever she took one- and cursing at every other word. Despite the callousness of her appearance- she frequented in outfits that screamed antisocial- Kristy is a decent girl with a decent adoration for other girls in her position or positions similar. She's got almost this motherly- older sister type of vibe, though she's not above using her fists to discipline others. Say something snarky and be younger than her and she will not hesitate to smack you into another ethnicity. Only to girls, and younger boys, of course. Men, to her, equals power and she finds herself inferior. Not so much that she won't hang out with them like a normal person, but enough for her to understand that there are boundaries.

History: Born and raised in Hong Kong, Kristy lived a pretty decent life. She's not too sure where she went wrong- maybe being born into a shit family, or perhaps maybe when she ran away with the pretty American boy.

This pretty American boy's name was Lorenzo. He found her, lonely and sixteen, at the other side of a chainlink fence. It was him that treated her wounds, and it was him that made her laugh when he spoke in choppy mandarin. "I'll take care of you," he ended up saying in english, when Kristy made it clear she knew how to speak it, "I'll be good to you."
And he was. Oh, man, Lorenzo beat Hoi's dad to hell whenever she came to him with so much of a bloody nose, and he smacked her mom around a bit too, for not doing anything about it. He let her smoke her first blunt, snort her first line, he let her experience a lot of her firsts. It was a good life, that's what Hoi thought, as she downed her third drink of god knows what.

Then one day, Lorenzo told her he was leaving. He was going back to where he came from, and Hoi wanted anything but that to happen. She'd be alone, she'd have no more fun. Take me with you, she said, in the choppy english she'd learned, I want to leave with you. Lorenzo bought her to his gang of friends, and though Hoi suspected it for a while, it was then that she really learned they were a gang. Okay, she thought, this was a bad situation, but god knows teenage girls do stupid things when they're doped up and in love. So she begged the leader for them to bring her with them, and after a fast paced argument between him and Lorenzo that Hoi didn't catch, they finally turned to her and let her go.

But there was one thing she had to do.

She swallowed six of those small little packets, and by the time they were in the air, her stomach was sweating and she was sweating like a pig. I feel nauseous, she would complain, You should probably try not to eat, Lorenzo would tell her. When they landed, the first thing they made Kristy do was to take a shit. Though she felt degraded doing it in anything other than a legit bathroom, her stomach was also telling her to do it. They took the six little pill packets and cleaned it all up, and they let Kristy take a shower, and then everything started again from there.

They took her with them every time they went some place, be it Kuwait, China, Mexico- and every time, she'd have to swallow packages of drugs then shit them out. Lorenzo didn't come every time, though, and Kristy learned that there were other people that could satisfy her. And she did this for a bit, until she was near into her twenties.

She came back from a solo trip, one day, and was greeted by Lorenzo. The whole day was a blur for her. All she knows is by the end of the day, she and Lorenzo were hightailing it out. Kristy didn't know why, exactly, she'd been too tired to remember, her stomach was hurting too much. Lemme take a piss, she told Lorenzo, and she made her way to an alley way. There, she almost got run over by a car. She didn't, but she remembers seeing another mule walk out, and three guys. They knocked her out, and when she woke up, her stomach was stitched up and she could barely walk.

Kristy tried to defend herself. She didn't know Lorenzo was an undercover cop- and she seriously didn't! They didn't take her shit though, and god, she was lucky both the beatings and the newly stitched stomach only barely killed her. In the two months it took her to heal well enough to walk on her own, they'd decided to kick her out and sell her off into another gang. She went from international smuggling to just local. She even went from smuggler to part time prostitute, whenever she needs some spending money of her own.

Other: She doesn't use the goods that she smuggles, but Hoi is very much still a druggie.
She lathers perfume on herself to keep the scent of poverty away.
As funny as it is, her english has a hint of an accent. But it's not Chinese, it's Mexican.

[Sturmgewehr]

Name: Carlos Diaz "Iceman"
Age: 34
Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Race: Chilean-American
Position: Hitman for the TI-32 gang

Personality: Despite his line of work Carlos is a very respectful, calm and open-minded person. At the same time, when the gang orders him to eliminate someone, Carlos becomes a ruthless killer that shoots first and asks questions later. He is a gentleman when it comes to women and has the charm that all latin-americans do. Carlos has proven to be able to maintain his calm even under the most stressfull situations, which is why he earned the nickname Iceman.

Appearance:


History: Carlos was born in Calson City. His parents were chilean imigrants that came to the Unites States from Santiago, the capital of Chile. With his father a chef and his mother a teacher, Carlos and his family lived a fairly decent life. He was fascinated by fighting ever since an early age and as a teenager he took mixed martial arts lessons, feeding that passion. After going through high school and university, Carlos found work as a bodyguard, working for celebrities, rich people, politicians and others that could afford protection. After 6 years in the bodyguard business, Carlos became a favorite, many requesting his services. At the age of 27, disaster struck in Carlos's life after the people he was protecting at the time, some rich guy and his wife, were killed by some unknown attackers in a car. Carlos himself was injured at his left leg and spent a couple of days in the hospital.

After that incident no one wanted to hire him anymore, although it wasn't really his fault that those people died. Carlos started looking for work anywhere but he was unsuccessfull. Like those things weren't bad enough he also lost his apartment because he couldn't afford paying taxes anymore. Desperately wanting money, Carlos made a deal with a drug dealer and agreed to sell drugs for the guy in exchange for money. However that lasted only 3 months because afterwards the dealer was caught by the police, and although Carlos managed to avoid the authorities for 2 weeks he was arrested as well. He as sentenced to 5 years in jail plus a fine. During the time spent in jail, Carlos lost his parents. After getting out of prison Carlos found himself with nothing and nobody to rely on. He had to restart his life, do everything all over again. He moved in the slums, where he lives in one of the crappy apartments he found there. He also found work as a hitman for the TI-32 gang. Of course he had to prove himself first, which Carlos did very well.

Other:
- Trained in mixed martial arts;
- Speaks perfect english, with his latin accent barely noticeable;
- Plays the guitar very well;
- Loves cats and seeks to own one;
- Carlos is a huge NASCAR fan and never misses a race.

[Grothnor]

Name: Raymond Skalter
Age: 31
Gender:Male

Sexuality: Straight
Race: Caucasian
Position: Muscle/Drug Dealer

Personality: Ray is a troubled individual. He suffers from PTSD triggered anxiety attacks, and has taken to taking drugs to help cope with them, be they legal (the support he's getting from being a vet) or illegal (stuff he gets from 'Lab Rat'). On days when he's feeling okay, he's friendly and talkative, but most other days he's withdrawn and morose. Sometimes he suffers from flashbacks, and usually the only one who can snap him out of it is his buddy John, who is the only person he really trusts.

Other: He's partners with John "Lab Rat" Salsades. He scratches his robotic prosthetic when nervous or anxious, which if he notices, sometimes sends him into a depressive spiral/PTSD flashback. He also knows his guns and military hardware.

Appearance

(I'm using Jet Black because if The Incredible John needs a partner, this is only appropriate)

History: Ray was friends with Lab Rat before joining the military, and one of his customers, though only for recreational drug use. Now drugs have become his lifestyle. Ray lost his arm in the Army. He won't say where or how he lost it, but its most likely he lost it in the second Operation Enduring Freedom. He doesn't talk much about his past. Most just assume that he's another broken vet, and they're pretty much right. He's currently living with Lab Rat (If Incredible John is okay with that) and has helped him out with some of the more elaborate traps.