The Gomez family is a vast net of men and women peasant farmers numbering well into fifty immediate members and an uncounted number of extended family and distant relatives. A matriarchal unit--a finding not uncommon among Colombia’s poor farmers where farmlands are often owned by the woman’s father and such ownership allocates power to women in ways that are inverse to traditional Western societies where men typically hold power in private and forum.
At the height of the “Colombian conflict”, that is, the ongoing guerrilla warfare between paramilitary groups and the resident Colombian drug cartels in the late eighties and early nineties, there spawned a new generation of drug barons and baronesses seeking to utilize the bloodshed in order to establish their own place within the booming cocaine trade. Men and women of all backgrounds: farmers, sewers, coca paste-makers, coffee bean harvesters, dishwashers, any and all persons who had more gut than wit flooded the fields of the Andes’ green with blood and bribery. This is the story of one such farmer boy and his bid for power.
We begin in 1979, where one Alejandro Gomez Jr. is born to Alejandro and Daniella Gomez. Alejandro Sr. a coffee harvester and Daniella, a seamstress; both--like many of Colombia’s disenfranchised--furnished a living for themselves and their son from less than a peso. Alejandro Sr. may be summed as a hard man, one who believed a man should be given no handouts--and if one’s wife was not working to help support the family, she was useless to him: “Si funciona, lo hace,” his mantra (“if it works, you do it.”) It is perhaps for this reason that Alejandro Sr.’s wife, a handsome woman herself, was given the nickname “el caballo.” (“the horse"); he preferred practicality over beauty. Alejandro Sr. never begot violence upon his only son, and for his stringent nature, knew when to be caring. These paternal traits would follow Alejandro Jr. throughout his own life.
Perhaps more important to young Alejandro’s development than his inheritance of his father’s traits were those bestowed on him by his mother. Patient, cold, warm, sharp. Daniella Gomez was in many ways more masculine than Alejandro senior. Daniella, too, was pragmatic but only insofar as her brand of ‘doing what worked’ was to pass to her children. Concerning matters outside of the family, Daniella was a dreamer, a romantic, an aspiring artist. Her ambition for painting and more delicate items in life sometimes clouded her judgement as it pertained to the empresa familiar that is, the family business. A coffee harvesting business which--during the time of the Gomez parents’--inadvertently became swept up in the drug wars which began to consume the countryside.
As exports, bananas and coffee beans were among the top two traded goods. A lucky farmer and his family could well strike rich if a year’s harvest was abundant. Of course, this was contingent upon whether he could stave the interests and the pockets of the private corporations looking to buy up lands the Colombian government had not already annexed themselves (mainly mineral farms) or handed to the displaced indigenous peoples. The rise in drug related crime had a threefold effect: 1) banana and coffee farms suddenly became the face of legitimate and easy enterprise; farmland soil was natural to the climate and one did not have to worry about intrusion from law enforcement 2) the private corporations soon lost interest in “granja de sangra”, blood farms--the farms became a liability; there was no point in shoveling even cents on the dollar into the pockets of a hundred laborers if there was no guarantee the workforce was going to survive the day, 3) men and women who were once innocent farmers now had to learn how to fight in order to survive--either one was to lose his livelihood by force or he was to defend it with his life. This rapid shift in the culture of country life meant blood spilled for hundreds of old, defiant, and untrained laymen.
It meant too that Alejandro senior would have to suffer the same; Alejandro senior was unlike most other uneducated banana farmers, however--he would not grovel, but he would not resist without intent: he would reason with these barons. All he needed was a little luck; when resident paramilitary head--who lead what was publicly the most corrupt regime of paramilitary troops in the hills of Colombia, only known to other local farmers as ”El Aguila” inevitably showed up to Alejandro senior’s lot, Alejandro pleaded with rightful dignity:
“Papa, no hay ninguna razòn para matar a mí, podemos hacer un trato.” Alejandro met The Eagle outside of his cottage and put forth his intentions right away. It was best to be straight with a man who could decimate your family and your livelihood with a flip of his finger. Alejandro senior continued,
“Aquí está mi trato. Sé que buscas reclutas, puedo unirme a ti y ayudarte a luchar. Usted tendrá el 30 por ciento de mi granja si me deja vivir. ¿cómo suena esto?”
‘The Eagle’ as the burly six foot general was called had taken a second to ponder. Many begged before the Eagle, real name William Leary, and for their insolent defeatism William had killed them. As heinous a reputation Leary garnished, the actual man was much shorter than myth made him and he was, as Alejandro senior came to find out, more lenient. He would let Alejandro senior live; in turn, Alejandro senior would not only get military training, he would retain partial ownership of his farm. It meant that his family would be secure for the future, and none of the other troops of the region would pester the Gomez farm for the duration of Alejandro senior’s service.
Many good things come with a price, and it was in the intervening five years--in which time Alejandro junior had turned ten, and Alejandro senior 35--that both men’s lives would diverge. It was now 1983. Alejandro senior had returned from his servitude to the local paramilitary chief and for his son he had lessons abundant. By 1983, the cocaine kings: Pablo Escobar, Carlos Lehder, Gilberto Rodriguez Orejuela, Daniel Barrerra Barrerra and queens: Griselda Blanco, Enedina Arellano Felix, Sandra Avila Beltrain, had all begun carving out much of Colombia’s hillside and flatland for the harvesting of coca leaves and subsequent production of cocaine. The collective rise of these cartel godfathers and mothers meant a virtual end for traditional farming in the Colombian countryside; it also meant that the large farm in which Alejandro had employed many of his relatives had to be evacuated for fear of their own safety. Of these, Alejandro senior elected to send: his only son, the youngest children, nephews, and nieces as well as his middle brother, Esteban..
Before their venture, Alejandro senior would train them as he had been trained: under a deal brokered with El Aguila, the Gomez farm was quarantined while the twelve youngest Gomez clan members were drilled in military tactics. Everything from the construction, deconstruction, and use of military grade weaponry to espionage, defensive and offensive tactical maneuvers, and a rigid physical training regimen requiring each of the children to go days without food and sleep. The young men and women from the Gomez clan were sculpted into ruthless soldiers--all this in exchange for El Aguila’s patronage and contacts in America--and, most important of all, Aguila’s own bid for power in the American cocaine epidemic.
By 1986, Escobar and the other drug lords had begun fighting a two fold war: one against rival cartels, the other against counterinsurgency leftist guerilla groups who sought to destroy the power the crime lords had established for themselves. This span of three years marked the completion of the Gomez kids’ training and their subsequent trip to America. It was, however, too soon to for Alejandro junior enact the deal forged between Aguilar, William Leary, and Alejandro junior’s father. Instead, Alejandro was sent to live with Leary’s Colombian-American contact, Don Bautista. Don Bautista earned his title formally, as a man of high political standing and a man who had made millions investing the Cuban sugar trade in the 1938 just before the second World War; he had sold his investment just before the war’s end, envisioning the inevitable crash which spawned from the European and American economic boom and the respective economies’ growing independent sugar trades.
It was while staying in the Bautista’s villa that Alejandro junior met and fell in love with the Don’s daughter, Manuela. She, too, was smitten by Alejandro II’s charm and gentlemanly fervor. When Alejandro junior turned twenty, Don Bautista granted Alejandro II’s request to marry Manuela and the two soon began a family young, like his father before him and Manuela’s mother before her. Of his original relatives who moved to the States with him, only Caspare (his first cousin) and Esteban (uncle) remained with him. The rest dispersed to normal lives; those intelligent enough found jobs in politics, banking, unions, they became doctors and lawyers as well. By early 1993, Manuela and Alejandro II had already birthed three of their seven kids within two years of one another. 1993 was also the death of Colombia’s undisputed cocaine kingpin, Pablo Escobar. Escobar’s death marked yet another transitional period in the South American drug trade; not only were trafficking routes now wide open for distributors and anyone willing to seize the void left by Escobar’s passing, the American government would now be seeking extraditions for hundreds of Colombian men and women who were thought to be lieutenants and high ranking members of Escobar’s empire. Many of these men and women were no more than associates. It meant once these men and women were released, there would be displaced Colombians seeking work; prime for helping Alejandro II establish a new life for himself and his relatives in the country.
By the end of 1998, Manuela had given birth to the last four Gomez children. Alejandro II, using Aguila and his contacts, had opened up a small fruit shop, one of the few Colombian owned businesses in the heart of Atlanta which got fresh Colombian imported goods: papaya, hass avocado, Lulo, Tamarillo, Pitayas, Zapote, among other things. Exotic imports were nothing unique in American landscape--this was one of the many unseen drawbacks of the extremely multiethnic culture America possessed: what would be exotic in another country is common,, people of all ethnicities brought their culture to the land of the Free and so no element of any culture was entirely unique. This was also America’s beauty; anyone from any culture could come and participate in the dream she offered in any way he pleased--so long as he was ready to suffer the consequences.
Alejandro II would find this out like everyone else when an unlisted package showed up on his doorstep one evening; in black marker it was written: ”El amor del àguila” (“Love from the Eagle”). It was time to repay favors. Unlike the movies, the process was slow. None of Alejandro II’s kids were old enough to enter empresa familiar; as such, Caspare and Esteban would often watch Alejandro’s kids while he and Manuela sold small nickel and dime bags of cocaine on the streets. The Gomez children received a stringent upbringing similar to the one Alejandro II had; the use of weapons, espionage, tactics--Alejandro made sure his children would be able to survive the harsh world in which they were about to inhabit.
Without the manpower or weaponry, getting a foothold in the underworld would prove difficult. Nor did he have the money to sustain a large conglomerate of soldado to do his dirty work. Conventional corner hustling was dead; he would have to find a new way to feed himself and his large family. It hit him: the fruit.
Alejandro II and Manuela began their drug venture anew; for each pound of fruit imported to their small shop, less than a gram of cocaine would be placed in a batch of fruit and either re-packaged and shipped through the Gomez’ Colombian contact or sold to unknowing customers who often became returning customers thanks to the ‘potency’ of some of the fruit shop’s natural imports. The avocado in particular was said to have a nice ‘kick’. Alejandro II had found his niche, and soon made money enough to finance a hundred fruit shops. The money had finally come, but it had not come quick enough and he had yet to establish any contacts yet in America. Not only this, but times were changing; cocaine was not the de facto drug of choice any longer; Alejandro foresaw such, just as Don Bautista had taught him: ”ver el cambio” (“see change”)
By the dawn of the new millennium, Alejandro had established a network of drug contacts in Colombia, Peru, Turkey, Canada and Chilé. In the seven years between 1998 and 2005, Alejandro Jr.--now known as “Jefe”--had opened up a series of legitimate businesses by using the money he gained from his cocaine fruit operation to invest in cheap housing in low income ethnic neighborhoods and fixing the houses up. He would rent these houses to ignorant travelers for triple the market price and in turn invest that money into buying yet another house on the same street. Alejandro II continued the process until he had owned at least one house in nearly every impoverished neighborhood in Atlanta. And once again, before the housing market crash of 2008, Alejandro--like mentor Don Bautista foresaw the crash of the sugar trade--sold his investments to desperate homeowners before the bubble burst. Ver el cambio. Jefe Gomez, before the age of 35, had become one of the wealthiest Colombians in America. And none but his family knew of his more devious dealings.
But yet again, more change was to swallow the Gomez clan; the Pax Metahumana; strange men and women with abilities unexplained appeared. People who could lift tanks with a single arm, fly, run at speeds the naked eye could not perceive, and wield arcane energies made the life of the criminal difficult. Still, even criminals are sometimes blessed; barring family members who were not in the effected areas of the metahumana (Felix, Arianna, Angel, Tino), the other Gomez relatives were bestowed their own set of powers.
Powers: Minor precognition: His 'business savvy' is largely owed to his powers; events which will effect him directly are those which he can predict, but the accuracy of these predictions is questionable.
Branding voice: His words carry an air of the mystic. Upon those which he has a vendetta and issues a hit, they become marked for death by the Gomez clan and their associates. When a kill order is issued, those in the organization attuned to the mystical in any sort are able to single out and hunt down the branded. It is effective for up to two people at a time (and generally only works on NPCs).
Personality: He is said to be the most cunning of the cartel's active leadership, rarely is his face seen on the street. A businessman in the truest sense of the word.
Whereabouts: Authorities are unsure if Mr. Gomez even resides in the United States at present. The only photo identification of his person exists in a single picture taken back in 2005.
Name: Manuela Gomez.
"Para mi familia."
("For my family.")
Nickname: Viper, Queen. Age: 42. Rank: Segundo el amando.
Power Type: Shapeshifter.
Power Level: Street/City.
Powers: She can take the form of any person she has memorized, down to the voice and gait of said person.
Weaknesses: Still human.
Personality: As cold and calculating as her husband, Manuela Gomez serves as Alejandro's mind and eyes; it is speculated she is the one who truly calls the shots within the organization.
Psychological Profile: Displays characteristics of narcissism. Often only speaks to her husband. Extremely volatile.
Whereabouts: Unknown.
Name: Caspare Gomez
"El silencio es oro."
("Silence is gold.")
Nickname: Reaper
Power Type: Supernatural.
Power Level: World.
Powers: Death Inducement: A simple glance at someone who Alejandro has marked for death will begin the process of destabilizing the target's autoimmune system. The effects are not instant and they take place over several weeks. Its effects are nullified by those with supreme healing capabilities.
Flor de la Muerte: An enchanted phantom blade which is not itself physical, instead it is used to kill targets without leaving wounds or marks of any kind. It appears in the physical realm only as a tattoo trailing down the right side of Caspare's arm.
Cloak and Scry: At will, Reaper can cloak himself from all natural fields of vision and disrupt those who possess magic sensory capabilities, though he cannot hide himself completely from those with magic sight/detection.
Weaknesses: Still human.
Age: 42.
Rank: El sicario.
Personality: The most violent member of the three-pronged head. If Caspare comes for you, it is best you make your piece with any deities in which you believe. His precision in tracking down and executing targets is impeccable.
Psychological Profile: A chronic depressive, Don Jefe is the only person who can speak sense to him. Deadly. Whereabouts: Unknown.
(Strong arm)
Name: Maria Gomez
"La lealtad es todo."
("Loyalty is everything")
Nickname: Machette.
Power Type: Supernatural.
Power Level: World.
Power: Spirit Tracking: She can locate the souls of those who Alejandro has put hits on. It has no other use.
Weaknesses: Still human. Age: 28
Rank: El escuadron de la muerte.
Former occupation: United States Marine Core (USMC) (seven years).
Personality: Stringent, organized, and deliberate, Maria leads the young Gomez 'death squad' consisting of its most violent members and most efficient killers. She studied computer engineering briefly before dropping out after two semesters.
Name: Felix Gomez.
"Si no se ama a sí mismo, ¿quién lo hará?"
("If he does not love himself, who will?")
Nickname: Bonito. Powers: None. Age: 26. Rank: El escuadron de la muerte.
Current occupation: Class A CDL licensed truck driver.
Personality: Reserved. Of the death squad members, Bonito is the most level headed and prefers to help victims see the error of their ways before he kills them. As a child, he always loved racing cars and his father once bought him a set of one hundred Hot Wheels tracks.A romantic like his grandmother before him.
Name: Arianna Gomez
"No tienes pelotas."
("You have no balls.")
Nickname: Sleepy. Powers: Normal. Age: 24 Rank: El escuadron de la muerte.
Former occupation: USMC (five years).
Personality: More wild and violent than her elder brother and sister, "Sleepy" Gomez gets her nickname from her lifeless eyes--eyes which she uses to lull unsuspecting men and women into carnivorous bouts of passion before ending them. Before she joined the Marines, Arianna was the proverbial black sheep of the Gomez clan as she spent many of her days jobless and living with anyone who would support her cocaine addiction. One of the men with whom she squatted was one Patrick Crosby, a young Canadian white collar criminal with whom she had a child. It was after the discovery of her pregnancy that she enlisted in the army.
Name: Esteban Gomez
"Viva la jefe"
("Long live the chief.")
Nickname: Bear.
Power Type: Supernatural/Brick.
Power Level: Street.
Attributes: Projectile proof: Natural projectiles cannot pierce him, no matter the grade. This can be overcome by enchanted weaponry.
Superhuman Durability: He can withstand great impacts from other superhumans.
Superhuman Strength: He can lift a ton overhead.
Blessing of Yum Cimil: The Bear is preternaturally lucky. When on a mission, harm rarely comes about him.
Age: 40.
Rank: El escuadron de la muerte.
Former occupation: Boxer.
Personality: The definition of the quiet assassin. Surpassed only by "Reaper" himself, the Bear earned his moniker from his towering physical figure and inhuman strength. He is the definition of a 'mystical assassin', one who always seems to have the favor of the dark gods on his side.
(Lieutenants)
Name: Isabella Gomez
"La familia siempre está ahí para usted"
("Family is always there for you.")
Nickname: Baby. Powers Type: Grey Matter. Power Level: Street. Attributes: Superhuman Intelligence. Her IQ is well above normal human levels. Age: 19. Rank: Teniente.
Personality: Upon Jefe Gomez' sister's death in 2010, Alejandro took in the orphaned Isabella and has raised her as one of his own. Isabella, like the rest of the Gomez clan, felt she had something to prove to her uncle and woud display it by becoming the youngest (and perhaps most innovative) of its members. Jefe initially objected to her becoming part of the business because of her age and her penchant for compassion at the wrong times. She quickly proved her worth and to this day, Jefe guards Isabella as though she were his daughter. He has made sure Isabella achieved her dream of going to college. Her service to the cartel persists in her ability to recruit other Spanish immigrants, especially those who are not bilingual, in order to move the cartel's product through the university system.
Current occupation: Student at Morehouse School of Medicine.
Name: Angel Gomez
"Los coches y las mujeres son similares; tiene cuidado de ellos, y tendrán cuidado de usted."
("Cars and women are similar; take care of them and they will take care of you.")
Personality: Laid back as can be. Like his younger sister, Arianna, Angel has a love for partying. Unlike his sister, Angel spends his exorbitant partying time establishing connections with the street level gangs in and around Atlanta who are of South American descent, namely: Mara Salvatrucha 13, Sureños 13, Florencia 13, and most notably--thanks to his cousin Tino--Angel has assisted La eme (the Mexican Mafia) in operating street dealings as the Gomez cartel seeks to strengthen connections within the prison system.
Current occupation: Car mechanic shop owner. Illicit dealings in arms trafficking across Colombian, Canadian, and US borders with help from La Mara Salvatrucha (MS-13).
Name: Tino Gomez.
"Tus enemigos son tus amigos si les puede hacer creer"
("Your enemies are your friends if you can make them believe it.")
Nickname: Tiny. Powers: Normal. Ethnicity: Colombian-Mexican-American. Age: 36. Personality: A leader. His leadership skills may surpass those of Jefe Gomez himself. If it were not for his lengthy prison sentence (two one hundred year sentences which are to run concurrent), Tino Gomez would likely be Alejandro's heir. He has a soft spot for children, and himself had three before he went to prison. Jefe Gomez takes care of them as well.
Current occupation: In the supermax prison which he is stationed, Tino has established himself as a high-ranking member of the Atlanta La Eme chapter. A "shot caller." Tino Gomez uses both his connections to the cartel as well as his influence garnished from his position in la eme to: send orders to the Atlanta street gangs underneath eme's control, issue assassinations, and inform Alejandro of any dealings within the prison system. Any Gomez family member or associate who is sent to prison is often--under the course of bribery--transferred to Atlanta's supermax so he/she is under Tiny Gomez's watchful eye.
Name: Valentina Gomez.
"No se tiene que preocupar más"
("You do not have to worry anymore.")
Nickname: El Pàjaro., El Doctorado. Age: 35. Power Type: Grey Matter. Powers: Superhuman Intelligence. Power Level: Street. Attributes: Her IQ is well above normal human level. Rank: Teniente.
Personality: Decisive and firm. Formally, the most educated of all the cartel's members. Valentina lacks the thirst for violence which permeates other members of her family's business, but she is not opposed to such violence: "es lo que es" ("it is what it is.)
Current occupation: She received her Ph.D. in law and philosophy from Columbia University Law School in New York when she was 31. Since, she has steadily been building her own private practice and recently passed the bar exam and is licensed to represent clients and operate in New York, Atlanta, and Chicago. With help from Jefe, Valentina has recently opened her first firm in Chicago representing juveniles and immigrants--many of whom are of Spanish descent.
Name: Carmella Gomez.
"Yo sé lo que mi padre, y no me importa. Él cuida de nosotros, y eso es lo que importa."
("I know what my father does, and I do not care. He takes care of us, and that is what is important.)"
Nickname: Cuete. Age: 22. Power Type: Supernatural. Power Level: Street. Powers: Supernatural Marksmanship: Carmella always seems to hit her target. Rank: Teniente.
Personality: Carmella is spoiled, Jefe sometimes treats her better than he treats his own wife. Like her siblings and relatives, Carmella is naturally tough--not to mention that she has a loud mouth. Her fiery temper will often get her in trouble.
Current occupation: A recent college graduate, Carmella also joined the police Atlanta Police Department. She lives in a condo Jefe purchased for her upon graduation. Of the Gomez siblings, Carmella lives furthest from her elder siblings with her residency being in the downtown area. Her police training has made her proficient in the use of handguns and melee combat.
Base of operations: Atlanta. Other operations: Chicago, New York, Florida, Dallas, New Mexico, Mexico, Colombia.
Estimated revenue/yr: 20,000,000 USD.
Size: Small (100-200 foot soldiers directly tied to the organization) with steadily rising numbers.
Business ventures: Buena Comida: A local restaurant which serves Mexican, Colombian, and El Salvadorian cuisine.
Cafè Colombiano: A cafè and lounge which serves imported Colombian coffee and beans. It is situated in the heart of Atlanta's business district.
Gomez fruits: An international fruit import/export business which transports Colombian fruit and vegetable produce across the globe.
Character you have created: Gomez Cartel Alias: None Character Alignment: Walking the Line/Villain Identity: Unknown. Origin Info/Details: See above. Hero Type (Select one): Normal/Grey Matter/Psychic/Shapeshifter/Supernatural Power Level: Street/City/World (upper eschelon). Powers (Be Specific): Varies. Attributes: Money. International connections. Resources: Extreme. Supporting characters: Jefe Gomez. Manuela Gomez. Caspare Gomez. Tino Gomez. Felix Gomez. Arianna Gomez. Angel Gomez. Valentina Gomez. Maria Gomez. Isabella Gomez. Carmella Gomez. Esteban Gomez.
Don Salvatore Campagna.
History: The Sicilian Mafia is among the oldest and most feared organized crime groups in the world. With origins tracing back to the late nineteenth century and perhaps earlier, these men and women set the course for what modern society calls 'organized crime.' The Mafia's beginnings trail back to the middle of the nineteenth century to Italian feudalism. Feudal lords and their private armies owned much of the farmland across the countryside, but by the end of 1812 and Sicily's subtle transition away from a feudal system, many of these land barons sold their properties to private citizens. The result of this rapid selling of land meant the formation of a middle class in Sicilian society as men who were formerly mere peasants could now produce, sell, and harvest their own goods at their own rate without the watchful eye of the lords dictating the market.
This transition into private property ownership caused land ownership in Sicily to soar into the tens of thousands. This also meant that land could no longer be sold to appease debts as land was no longer a means of bargaining; when the advent of the primogeniture abolished, new landowners had to find new ways to pay off debts and settle disputes. Formal feudal barons transferred their formerly private armies to the jurisdiction of the state, but these armies were poorly trained and lacking in number. A lack of enforcing bodies meant these new landlords needed to establish independent parties which could be used for protecting their lands. These young men were to hunt down suspected thieves in exchange for pardons and the return of stolen goods.
Organized into small companies of young men from all walks of life, these men were sworn to an oath of fealty to their overlord for their survival. This code of loyalty and brotherhood would set the stage for the omèrta, "the code of silence" and the familial unit which would grow into the modern Italian Mafia. When Italy annexed Sicily in 1860, these new enforcer arms of the small provincial countrysides in Sicily formed the first mafia clans. These clans structured themselves like small corporations. One such band, the Campagna clan, established themselves as one of the foremost mafia clans in Sicily in size and influence. Today, the Campagna clan controls a substantial amount of the heroin and cocaine exports in Sicily.
Base of operations: Sicily.
Other operations: Naples, Palermo, Florence.
Business ventures: Giancano's: A pizza dough importer based in Sicily. They also import tomato pastes and other authentic sauces from Italy and Sicily.
Size: Large (900-1000 soldiers and associates with direct ties to the organization).
Character you have created: The Campagna Clan.
Alias: None
Character Alignment: Walking the Line/Villain
Identity: Unknown. Origin Info/Details: See above. Hero Type (Select one): Normal.
Power Level: None.
Powers (Be Specific): None.
Attributes: Money. International connections.
Resources: Extreme.
Estimated revenue/yr: 6,500,000 USD.
Chinue Uba pictured above.
History: War has raged in West Africa for mining rights to the coveted blood diamonds since the turn of the millennium. In an effort to expand their power, many of the nationalist guerrilla groups and warlords have sought outside assistance in their bids for dominance. In exchange, these guerrilla groups and their larger financiers--the liberation armies from which many of them are subsets--provide their assisting bodies with weapons, drugs, and free passage through liberation-controlled zones should their overseas contacts require it. This mutual relationship between the nationalist warlords and other national criminal organizations have allowed both parties to confound international law enforcement because of the sheer number and rate at which these exchanges occur across the second largest continent in the world.
One connection lost in the shuffle is between the Gomez cartel and the National Nigerian Liberation Army. Tbe NNLA for short, is an extremist freedom fighter group which combats corrupt Nigerian armies who are supposed to be fighting insurgent threats and are instead supplying both sides of the conflict in favor of strengthening their connections to the home countries of these terrorist groups in hopes of continuing lucrative illicit dealings between both countries. The fight between the Nigerian armies and these insurgent groups is mainly used as a cover to assassinate all political dissidents and enemies of Nigeria's current leadership.
The NNLA has--like many of its counterparts--resorted to extreme measures of violence in order to diminish the Nigerian armies' hold on apolitical epicenters near diamond mining camps. For whoever can push back the well armed platoons will make themselves and their organizations exorbitant amounts of money. Funding from outside sources--the Gomez and their contacts--means not only may the NNLA be one of the first national liberation organizations to achieve such a goal, but it also means free passage of cartel drugs throughout the African continent and further expansion of an already vast network.
Base of operations: Nigeria.
Other operations: None.
Business venture: None.
Size: Medium (500-700 soldiers and associates with direct ties to the organization).
Character you have created: Nigerian National Liberation Army.
Alias: None
Character Alignment: Walking the Line/Villain
Identity: Unknown. Origin Info/Details: See above. Hero Type (Select one): Normal.
Power Level: None.
Powers (Be Specific): None.
Attributes: Money. International connections. Extremely violent.
Resources: Large.
Estimated revenue/yr: 2,500,000 USD.
Dimitri Chekhov, The Red Godfather.
History: Before the rise of the USSR, Russian peasants braved harsh Russian climates by stealing to survive. In the Russian prisons and later gulags where many of these young men ended up as a result of their stealing, there emerged an organized conglomerate of gangs. Banding together, these young men did everything necessary to survive harsh Russian prison camps and forced labor units; these societies of criminals operated by the code of thieves. Colloquially termed bratvas (brotherhoods), these new bands of criminals needed leaders--intelligent and conniving young criminals who quickly rose through their insulated ranks to become vory v. zakone ("thieves in law.").
Similar to the Sicilian mafia, the Russian bratvas maintain a hierarchical style structure. Within this structure, these oligarchical units carry out their illicit activities: money laundering, drug trafficking, arms trafficking, bribery, extortion, prostitution. Unlike the Sicilians and the Italians, the Russians are ran by a dodecagon style leadership net; that is, twelve of the top heads from the respective bratva cells meet to conduct business, solve disputes, and divide revenue among one another. It is the size and complexity of the Russian bratva hierarchy which makes them such a tough opponent to topple because as a whole they operate horizontally and function as a conglomerate more than a united front. Of these pakhan (bosses, godfathers, leaders), Dmitri Chekhov leads one of the largest cells consisting of over 3500 men worldwide.
An old school boss, Chekhov was initially against the modernization of the bratvas making their move to US soil as he foresaw the heat it would bring upon their unaffiliated comrades as well as the difficulty in operating rackets where more advanced technology and harsh law enforcement techniques existed America. For all that is said about American police, they prove much harder to bribe than their Russian compatriots. Once the Red Father saw the avenues for diversification of his rackets and the greater revenue streams from legitimate businesses in the Americas--and more important, his fellow pakhan surpassing him in worldwide inflence, Chekhov decided to expand his organization to the land of the free. To this end, Chekhov dispatched one of his most trusted brigadiers ("authorities", similar to Italian caporegimes), Anatoly Petroff, to set up operations in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn--with some help from one cartel lawyer El Pàjaro in expediting the work visa acquisition process; a favor Jefe Gomez owed to the Red Father for pardoning him of some disagreements with a fellow Russian associate of a rival bratva.
Name: Anatoly Petroff.
"Не пересекайте меня. Я убью Вас, вашу мать, жену, детей, детей, и собаку - и это травмировало меня, чтобы убить собаку."
("Do not cross me. I will kill you, your mother, wife, children, and your dog--and it would hurt me to kill the dog.")
Nickname: бульдог ("bulldog").
Powers: None.
Power Type: Normal.
Power Level: None.
Personality: Ruthless. Bred from a different sort of criminal, the Russian born Anatoly has the wit, temper, and cold detachment necessary to have risen through the bratva ranks so quickly at just 31 years old.
Occupation: Owns a television store and a small check and cashing place in the heart of Brighton Beach.
Subfaction (Red Arm Brigadier): 40-50 members and associates.
Base of operations: Russia.
Other operations: Brighton Beach, Brooklyn.
Business venture: Dmitri's Meats: A global meat packaging and shipping organization which imports and exports many cuts of hog and bear.
Chekhov Vodka: A global liquor export company.
Size: Massive (3500-4000 soldiers and associates worldwide).
Character you have created: Yegorovich Bratva.
Alias: None
Character Alignment: Walking the Line/Villain
Identity: Unknown.
Origin Info/Details: See above.
Hero Type (Select one): Normal.
Power Level: None.
Powers (Be Specific): None.
Attributes: Money. International connections. Extremely violent.
Resources: Extreme.
Estimated revenue/yr: 60,000,000 USD.
"I am a hard working man. That is all I claim to be, and that is all you can accuse me of."
Name: William Leary.
History: Former Colombian paramilitary leader-turned-senator, Leary is one of the few American-Colombian dual citizens who serves on the Colombian senate. His connection to the cartel is apparent to most in Colombia, but to almost none in America as he has not left Colombia since 1979. Leveraging his connections to the cartel he helped build, Leary has seeded himself in the politics of the Colombian political scene by intimidation, bribery, and extortion of some of Colombia's eldest senate members. Through his government connections, Leary leaks sensitive information to the cartel concerning important amendments, the passing of new bills, and new law enforcement regulations within the country. The cartel owes much of its success in escaping the Colombian authorities to Leary's intervention.
These days, Mr. Leary spends his waking hours fighting accusations of corruption and fraud. As the cartel has matured in size and influence, Leary has called upon his creation to subdue his accusers with might, but the cartel denies him these privileges every time. Gone are the days where criminal organizations can murder senators and judges without recompense--even in a country corrupt as Colombia. For this, the relationship between the Gomez' and Senator Leary has become strained; the cartel was reluctant to break ties with Leary, however, because it would have meant mean the death of their sole political connection in Colombia. To counteract such measures, Jefe has dispatched his wife to assume Mr. Leary's image in the Senate with the use of her abilities. William Leary himself has been given a stipend and an ultimatum--retire and remain quiet, or el sagador may pay him a visit sooner than expected.
With his wife fronting Leary's position in the Senate, the cartel is beginning to spread its political influence throughout the Colombian political scene at a rate greater than any the original Leary could have done. The cartel possesses an estimated fifteen political allies on their payroll in the Colombian senate alone. The actual William Leary's purpose to the Gomez organization consists in his paramilitary connections and the stock of potential recruits made available to the cartel at any time with a single phonecall. The real William Leary's whereabouts are unknown; some claim to have sighted him in the Bahamas as recent as 2013, but no confirmation of such information is available.
"Relax, man. I'm all good, you're all good--everyone's all good."
Name: Patrick Crosby.
"I expose dishonest crooks for what they are."
Name: Michael Thompson.
History: Patrick Crosby--affectionately named "Canuck" by his cartel contacts--and his former university roommate, Michael Thompson, are the cartel's northern most contacts in Canada. The duo operates primarily in white collar crimes, namely embezzlement, identity fraud, and blackmail. Thompson, a computer science major turned black hat hacker, steals confidential information from corrupt businesses and their executives and in turn ransoms this information for a massive fee. Crosby, should the companies or executives refuse to pay said ransom, will then leak this sensitive information to law enforcement agencies anonymously.
Operating under assumed identities, Crosby and Thompson also run an elaborate embezzlement and larceny scheme. By re-investing the ransomed money stolen these small-to-medium sized corporations, the two then by shares in larger corporations in bulk and re-allocates these funds upon quarterly return into the cartel's financial accounts at double the initial investment. In turn, the Gomez cartel buffers the financial and asset losses by providing the monies necessary to sustain the scheme until Thompson and Crosby can buy out the entire organization altogether and transfer remaining assets to themselves and the cartel.
Crosby and Thompson's connection to the cartel is more personal than most of the organization's other contacts. Crosby was once in a relationship with Arianna Gomez; upon the discovery of the pregnancy, Jefe forced Arianna to enlist in the military in hopes that it may straighten her personality. Crosby, on the other hand, was 'settled' into a debt to the Gomez organization; there would be none who thought he could manipulate and use Jefe Gomez' daughters without the intervention of Jefe himself. Crosby repays his debt to the Gomez' by working on their behalf.
Characters you have created: Patrick Crosby and Michael Thompson.
History: Formed in the California prison system in 1957 to combat racism and abuse from white gangs and correctional officers, la eme quickly became the most powerful Mexican American prison gang in the US. The organization was founded by Hispanic gangmembers who were already initiated into different sets within their own neighborhoods on the outside. La eme or the Mexican Mafia as they are universally known, is composed of primarily southern Hispanics from southern California. Their membership in recent years has expanded to include people of all sorts of Latin and Hispanic descent: El Salvadorians, Venezuelans, Colombians, Brazilians, and more.
What gives la eme its nigh-inexhaustible reach is its leadership. Among the most intelligent gang members within the penal system, la eme has correctional officers, prison lieutenants, and in some cases wardens in their pockets. These connections within prison walls give la eme a structure of power unrivaled by any other prison gang in America. Atop this, la eme has beneath itself a cell of street gangs; termed "the Southsiders" this umbrella group of infamous criminals is comprised almost entirely of Mexican American and mixed-race Hispanic American streeetgangs which originate from southern California. Underneath the '13' banner, symbolic of the letter 'M' being the 13th letter of the alphabet, these gangs include: La Mara Salvatrucha 13 (shortened MS-13), Sureños 13 (shortened Sur 13), Azura 13, Florencia 13, El Monte, and hundreds of other gang sets who all take orders from la eme. Like other organized criminal groups, they too operate with a set of rules and an established hierarchy.
The largest of these street gangs beneath the '13' banner and subsequently la eme's control is MS-13. With 70-100,000 active members spread across 48 states in the U.S., La Mara Salvatrucha is the largest operating streetgang in the nation with tens of thousands of members situated in: Guatemala, El Salvador, Mexico, Nicaragua, and Honduras. While South American branches of MS-13 do not maintain a strong relationship with most cartels, their American brethren do. American MS13 members often assist cartel heads and lieutenants in trafficking drugs and immigrants across the Mexico-US border into Texas, Florida, New Mexico, and Georgia.
Characters you have created: La Eme.
Size: Small (100-300 members spread across US penal system).
Alias: None
Character Alignment: Walking the Line/Villain
Identity: Known.
Origin Info/Details: See above.
Hero Type (Select one): Normal.
Power Level: None.
Powers (Be Specific): None.
Attributes: Penal connections. Street connections. Foot soldiers.
Subfactions: Azura 13 (20-100 active members), Florencia 13 (800-1000 active members), Sureños 13 (10,0000-20,000 active members).
"'Trucha!"
History: The violent El Salvadorian civil war --between the Salvadorian government and several leftist guerrilla groups seeking to overthrow the corrupt Salvadorian administration--from 1980 to 1992 displaced many Salvadorian immigrants across Southern America and the Western portion of the United States as many wished to distance themselves from the violence which threatened to infect the southern tip of the free world. With immense Mexican immigration occurring during this period, many of the illegal refugees fled to California where immigration laws were more lenient. Further, these immigrants settled in Los Angeles, a city with an already high concentration of legal Mexican immigrants. There was one problem: these Mexican immigrants came under scrutiny from black, Asian, and white streetgangs who already inhabited much of L.A.
These Mexican immigrants reacted to such pressures by forming their own coalitions. Together, these Salvadorian immigrants created what is known today as La Mara Salvatrucha. Rapid immigration from peers all across South America sped the growth of this newfound organization, and by the end of the 90s, MS13 had become the largest Mexican street gang in the United States. Typically identified by their canvased bodies which sport set names and chicano-style tattoos, La Mara has since expanded beyond East L.A. and holds considerable extraneous power bases in: Virginia, New York, Boston, North Carolina, and Houston. Its members are some of the most violent of any street gang, preferring machettes and crude forms of torture to send messages to their enemies. Their rivals include nearly all black gangs and northern California based Hispanic gangs (most notably Nueva 14 who, like the Blood inversion of the Crips, identify themselves by the color red). Some MS13 sets hold alliances with Aryan Brotherhood gangs thanks to their noted relationship within the nation's prison system.
Even though it is the largest street gang in the U.S. at present, it has no central organization structure like other criminal groups of its ilk. Instead, MS13 is splintered into several 'sets' or 'clickas'--individual cliques with their own set of rules and leadership. They do not answer to a group of leaders or a single leader outside of orders given to them by la eme; la eme does not have control over MS13's daily operations, however. Certain sects of MS13 have internal dealings with several cartel groups though this is not the case for all groups.
Characters you have created: La Mara Salvatrucha 13.
Size: Massive (70,000-100,000 active members in the US, tens of thousands across Southern America).
Alias: None
Character Alignment: Walking the Line/Villain
Identity: Known.
Origin Info/Details: See above.
Hero Type (Select one): Normal.
Power Level: None.
Powers (Be Specific): None.
Attributes: Penal connections. Street connections. Foot soldiers.
Estimated revenue/yr: Undocumented.
Genzo Fujioki pictured middle-left.
"我们团结在一起, 这样我们就不会死"
("We stick together and that way we do not die.")
History: Following the formation of the People's Republic of China in 1949 and Mao Zedong's assumption of leadership, the mainland Chinese criminal organizations which were once secret societies were splintered and forced out of the mainland. With several cells consisting of some two and three thousand men a piece, hundreds of thousands of Chinese criminal organizations, formally dubbed "Triads" were forced to find new places of operations in cities such as Hong Kong, Taiwan, Japan, and other southeast Asian cities and countries. Originally organized as secret societies and brotherhoods--which some speculate were formed to overthrow dynasties during China's lengthy Dynastic Period in order to restore long dead empires--these organizations at some point devolved into illicit activities following the end of the Dynastic Period.
With this devolution of interests came a need for re-organization and a consolidation of power. With Mao in charge, these brotherhoods-turned-criminals could no longer wage war on one another--or, to the ends of their new aims, make money--without collusion and systematic action. As such, these organizations banded together to form large conglomerate group of illegitimate partnerships. The "nine" as they were called, made up the nine largest of these groups: the Sun Yee On, Wo Hop To, Wo Shing Wo, Rung, Tung, Luen, Chuen, Shing, and 14K. Together, this united criminal cell dealt in counterfeiting, drug and arms trafficking, extortion, prostitution, bribery, gambling, fraud, and other illegal activities prevalent among criminal groups.
Power, however, cannot remain in one place for long. While the nine hold an iron grip on much of the underworld landscape in the Far East, newer, younger, and more violent organizations have risen up to attempt and carve some of this power for themselves. The Red Boar Triad, like the Yegorovich Bratva, have sent their own emissaries to America to attempt to establish a power base for themselves. In San Francisco California, authorities report, there has been a spike in the number of Japanese immigrants in recent years. The cause nor the correlation for this phenomenon has yet to be encountered.
"Do you know who I am?"
Thomas Jiang.
Nickname: Tommy Gun.
Age: 27.
Rank: Straw Sandal (Liason Officer--similar to caporegime or brigadier in the Italian and Russian mobs, respectively).
Powers: None.
Power Type: Normal.
Power Level: None.
Personality: Calm and ruthless all the same. He is not brash like many young criminal upstarts, his favorite poet is William Blake. He enjoys more elegant things; the restaurant he he runs in San Francisco's Chinatown area is adorned with soft colors that aim to bring a soothing dining experience to customers. Sometimes he goes for walks on cool summer nights just to ease his mind.
Occupation: Owner of the Golden Panda, a Chinese buffet through which Jiang launders money. With backing from the cartel, Jiang is preparing to begin a chain of these restaurants across the west coast.
Subfaction (Red Light Triad): 20-40 members and associates.
Characters you have created: Red Boar Triad.
Size: Large (1200-2000 members and associates worldwide).
Alias: None
Character Alignment: Walking the Line/Villain
Identity: Unknown.
Origin Info/Details: See above.
Hero Type (Select one): Normal.
Power Level: None.
Powers (Be Specific): None.
Attributes: Foot soldiers. Violence.
Estimated revenue/yr: Undocumented (the organization itself is relatively new).
(I am using an online translator for all foreign languages which appear here; obviously, not all translations will be correct but I hope to have captured the jist of what is said.)
Yea, I am haveing a bit of a problem writeing my self in to the rp with out messing up some ones already ongoing story arc. Any ideas guy?
Yeah, you're probably better off doing a self contained arc to introduce the character, and then get involved with others. Definitely don't want to go around messing up other people's arcs in order to write yourself in.
Lyger stood out on the ledge of the Wright Building and looked out over the city as a torrential downpour washed over the city. There was something about the rain that he found soothing, almost therapeutic, in fact. It was almost as if the heavens had opened up and just washed away everything that was wrong in the city.
Almost.
Crown Ridge was a bad place. Nothing would ever be able to scrub all of that filth away. No amount of rain could cleanse it, and no amount of fighting would ever be able to set it right. He knew that, and it ate away at him. He found himself wondering if it was even worth it, the constant struggle, the fight for the city. Then he thought about all of the good people in Crown Ridge, the people who had no way out, the people who tried to live a good life for themselves and their families. Those people were the reason that he fought.
These were the people who were hurt by criminals and terrorists like the Hounds of Humanity. Although the Hounds claimed that their fight was with the meta humans and other non-normals, they had victimized anyone that got in their way, and summed it all up as collateral damage in not only a war of attrition, but a war for the very survival of the human race. However, it was all a farce. The Hounds of Humanity couldn’t care less about protecting the normal people of the world, they just needed an excuse for murder, and the rise in the meta human, as well as supernatural populations gave them just that. They hid behind bigotry in order to spread as much hate and fear as they could.
They were also well organized. They had laid the perfect trap for him, and he walked right into it. If it hadn’t have been for Icon’s interjection, he wouldn’t have walked away from that confrontation in one peace, and if he was to be completely honest with himself, he wouldn’t have walked away at all. Neither Icon nor he knew exactly what the Hounds’ endgame was, but both heroes knew that they needed to be there to make sure that it didn’t happen.
As Lyger contemplated everything that had happened, he suddenly realized that he wasn’t alone. He glanced around the rooftop, but didn’t see anyone. However, he knew that he wasn’t imagining it; he could hear someone slowly creeping up on him.
Then he saw it. Or rather, it was what he didn’t see. He looked on as he saw the puddles on the roof disturbed by invisible feet. He watched as the pounding rain battered against something, or someone who didn’t appear to be there.
“You might as well show yourself, I know you’re there.” Lyger said, his modulated voice sounding more intimidating than he had intended. After several beats, something began to take shape from nothingness. At first he didn’t know what he looked like, but soon the figure of a young woman who looked to be in her early to mid twenties began to appear before his eyes. She was a pretty girl, though with just a quick glance Lyger could tell that something was troubling her, and he had a pretty good idea of what that was.
“They came for you too, didn’t they?” Lyger said, more as a statement than a question.
“Yeah. They stormed the shop where I work. They just started shooting. They almost got me. They almost killed my customer. If I didn’t get us out of there, they would have.” She said with a mixture of fear and anger in her voice. “I saw you after I got her to safety. I recognized you from TV, I saw how you helped in the Pax Metahumana crisis.”
“So you followed me.” Lyger said, slightly embarrassed that he had slipped up and allowed himself to be tracked. “Who are you?”
“My name’s Chrissy, Chrissy Jones. I thought you could help.”
“I’m on it. You should lay low, don’t get yourself involved in this mess.” Lyger said.
“These monsters have to be stopped.”
“And they will be. It’s being worked on.” Lyger told her.
“I want to help, I have to do something.” She said.
“Stay out of it. Leave it to the people who handle these types of things.” Lyger insisted.
“I can’t promise that. Sometimes everyone has to take a stand.” She said with a touch of defiance in her tone.
“It’s your funeral.” Lyger said as he turned away from the young woman and fired a grapnel line into one of the nearby buildings before diving from the roof and vanishing into the night.
Hexed was one of Crown Ridge’s premier occult shops. Though the proprietor of the shop, Lindsey Walsh, didn’t actually believe in the occult herself, she saw that there was a real opportunity to cash in on the superstitions of others. With the help of some cheap costume jewelry and a Gypsy costume that she purchased from a local theater group’s surplus warehouse, she brought to life her new alter ego, Madame Ravenfeather. From her shop, she sold wands and chalices, herbs and ready made spells. If it had an occult feel to it, and she felt that she could make money from it, it could be found within the walls of Hexed.
In the back corner of the shop, Chrissy Jones sat in her booth, which was concealed by a heavy royal purple curtain. It was from this booth that she gave psychic readings to those who were looking for answers to their problems from an alternative source. More often than not, they were not really looking to know what the future holds for them. Sometimes they were not even really looking for answers at all; instead they were looking to be told what they wanted to hear, to find comfort in a situation that they really have no control over. Across from Chrissy sat Sally Simmons, a portly woman in her early fifties who simply radiated grief. As an empath, Chrissy felt the woman’s sadness like a punch in the gut. It was a profound sorrow that could only accompany a great loss. Using the woman’s grief as a guide, she had been able to confirm that it was the death of a loved one, and through her conversation with the woman she learned that the source of her sorrow was the death of her 22 year old daughter, who had passed away in a car accident on her way home from college. Sally’s daughter, Beth had been on her way home for summer break from Boston University when her car was t-boned in an intersection by a teenage girl who was sending a text message and ran a red light.
“I feel that Beth is at peace.” Chrissy said as she took Sally’s hands in hers. “Though she is gone from this plane, she is not gone. It may sound cliché, but she lives on in you. And though there will always be a void that you won’t ever be able to fill, it will get easier. Beth will always be with you, nothing, not even death will ever be able to change the bond that you have.” As she finished speaking, Chrissy closed her eyes and began to concentrate, not only was she able to feel people’s emotions, but she could , in a way, control them. She could take on the emotions of others and replace them with different emotions. In this case, she took some of Sally’s sorrow onto herself. Not all of the sadness, because she felt that it was unfair to rob the woman of the opportunity for closure. So instead she just took away some of the pain, and replaced it with a sense of serenity. It didn’t take away all the pain, or even most of it. However, it was enough to make it somewhat bearable, and Chrissy could immediately feel the change in the woman, and in herself as she took on the woman’s suffering as if it were her own. Although it was a temporary side effect of Chrissy’s powers, she felt a very real sense of loss, and truly understood what Sally had been suffering through.
Then with the sound of squealing tires and car doors slamming shut, Chrissy felt another set of emotions entirely:
Fear.
Hatred.
Anger.
Suddenly, the front door of Hexed exploded inward, sending glass and wood flying into the shop like shrapnel. Fortunately for Chrissy and her client, the heavy curtain protected them from the flying debris. Chrissy pulled back the curtain just enough to peak out into the store, and saw what looked like nearly a dozen men dressed in head to toe black body armor and wielding heavy firepower. It was upon seeing the men storming Hexed that she realized that the day that she dreaded had finally arrived.
The Hounds of Humanity had come for her.
“Stay down.” She whispered to Sally as she stepped out from behind the curtain, anger and fear gripping her as she went to face the men that had been terrorizing the meta human and supernatural communities for these last few days.
As she stepped from behind the curtain, the Hounds turned their attention to her, training their weapons on Chrissy. However, before they were able to pull the triggers, a large oak table that had a number of stones, gems and herbs displayed upon it suddenly lurched forward, colliding with several of the jackboots which send them crashing into the wall. With the remaining Hounds still distracted, Chrissy bound toward one of the men, who saw her just in time to turn his weapon back on her. However, she grabbed the muzzle of the gun and bent it back and upward, rendering it unusable. Then she hit the thug with a knife edged chop to the throat which brought the man to his knees. Suddenly, the sounds of something falling caught Chrissy’s attention, as well as the attention of the Hounds. Sally Simmons, who had remained hidden behind the curtain couldn’t sit still any longer, and in a panic attempted to flee. However, in the process she had tripped and fallen into the curtain, pulling it down off of the curtain rod that kept it in place, bringing the wooden rod along with the curtain, and herself crashing to the floor with a thud. The Hounds turned their weapons on her and opened fire, just as Chrissy raced over to where she sat on the floor and dived at her. As she made contact with Sally, the older woman felt a sudden sense of vertigo as she and Chrissy simply vanished just as the bullets struck the patch of floor that Sally had just occupied seconds before.
When Sally opened her eyes, she wasn’t able to suppress the urge to vomit, and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the sidewalk where she now found herself kneeling. She looked around, and realized that she was familiar with the area in which she now found herself, but was baffled as to how she had wound up on Atlantic Avenue, as “The Strip” as it was also know was more than a dozen blocks away. Then Sally began to look around for Chrissy, who was nowhere to be found. So she just sat there for a moment, trying to gather her bearings, and as she did so, she could have sworn that she could hear the sound of footsteps, clearly belonging to a woman running away.
Icon and Lyger stood atop Crown Ridge’s tallest building, Brady Tower. Only minutes ago, the two heroes fought off a contingent of Hounds of Humanity thugs who had ambushed Lyger, and very well may have killed him had it not been for Icon’s timely interjection. Sadly, if Icon hadn’t arrived in time, Lyger wouldn’t have been the first to fall victim to the Hounds. There had been reports of such attacks all across the country, not only against a number of super powered heroes and villains alike, but against civilians as well. Most recently, Icon had heard of the attack on Chris Arthur and a new speedster out in Pacific Point, as well as the attack that left Arthur’s home a smoldering crater.
The Hounds were stepping up their attacks, becoming more brazen in their assaults, and it was clear that the terrorists did not care who got hurt in the crossfire. They needed to be stopped, and fast.
“You wanted to talk, so talk.” Lyger said bluntly.
“Obviously you’re aware of what’s been going on. These attacks, they’re getting worse.” Icon told him.
“Tell me something I don’t know. We need to stop these Hounds before they can kill anyone else.” Lyger said.
“That’s exactly why I’m here. We worked together pretty well during the Pax crisis, and I think that if we work together again, we can stop the Hounds from doing any more damage.”
“I usually work alone.” Lyger told him.
“I know, but I think we’re going to need you on this.”
Lyger thought about what Icon was saying for a moment and realized that he was right. However, if they wanted to end the Hounds’ threat quickly, they’d need more than just the two of them.
“We’ll need the others, Arthur and the rest of them. When you get them, call me.” Lyger told Icon.
“How will I find you?” Icon asked.
“You didn’t have much trouble tonight.” Lyger quipped before reaching into a compartment in his belt and pulled out a small device. “But you can use this, it’ll connect you with the com system in my mask. You’ll be able to reach me through that.”
Icon took the device and nodded as he turned to take to the skies. However, Lyger called out to him again.
“And Icon…thanks.” He said as Icon leaped into the sky and rocketed away back toward Lost Haven.
Speech Color: Huginn: Silver and Muninn:Gold Character Alignment: Heroes. Identity: Taylor and Jordan Stevenson Character Personality: Uniform/costume:
As vigilantes, the Stevenson twins need to protect their identity at all times, so they wear concealing bodysuits and balaclavas while in action. Their bodysuits are essentially the pic above, minus the yellow stripes, and patches.
Origin Info/Details:
The Stevenson Twins have always been oddly in sync, for their entire lives. One would think they knew what the other was thinking, just by looking at each other. Which is actually the case, the twins share a mental link that lets them communicate instantaneously, anywhere in the world, in addition to other psychic abilities. Born to relatively normal parents, they grew up normally, keeping their powers secret, which wasn't hard. They never could quite figure out how they got them, however. Gamma rays? A mutagen? They're actually descendants of aliens? It's actually one of Taylor's favorite pastimes to speculate on where they received their powers from, however, which annoys his sister, Jordan, to no end.
Power Level: Street/City Level (Separated), World Level (Together)
Powers: Huginn- Huginn is able to communicate with his twin, Muninn at any time, anywhere, unless he is somehow incapacitated. He is also able to use telekinesis to push himself to speeds upwards of 100 MPH, fly, and carry his sister with him as he does so.
Muninn- She is able to communicate with her twin perfectly, unless incapacitated, as well as use telekinesis to enhance her physical agility. She is also capable of performing large-scale telekinesis with objects the size and weight of skyscrapers, (although it goes without saying that doing so is extremely exhausting for her,) but cannot lift her own body in true flight due to a mental block. Also, although it isn't a power, she is a contortionist, able to bend her body in weird ways.
(Both of these descriptions are when the twins are within a mile of each other, they get weaker the farther away from each other they are.)
Height: Taylor- 6'5" Jordan- 5'3"
Weight: Taylor- 240 lb. Jordan- 114 lb.
Strength Level: Taylor- Trained Human, the level of a professional boxer. Jordan- (Physical,) Average Human, (Mental,) 100+ Tons easily.
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Taylor- 100+ MPH Jordan- Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Taylor- 3 Hours, (he had to get used to running at inhuman speeds for great lengths on end.) Jordan- (Physical) Average Human, (Mental) 5 Hours.
Agility: Taylor- 2X Normal Human, he's got to be capable of not smashing into obstacles as he moves at high speeds. Jordan- 10X Normal Human
Intelligence: Taylor- Average Jordan- Above Average
Fighting Skill: Taylor- Trained Jordan- Trained
Resources:
Average
Weaknesses: Both are perfectly vulnerable to mundane weaponry, if they get hit by it, and can be incapacitated by sufficiently powerful psychic scramblers, or just an overwhelming mind, even though they are more resilient to mind invasion than normal. Two heads are better than one, after all.
Also, if their psychic connection is ever severed, even temporarily, they'd be more vulnerable to psychic assault, emotional manipulation, and general suggestion, in their desperation to find the other.
Supporting Characters:
Albert Stevenson- Their father, a charming older man who is content to live off his pension checks and work in a woodshop for the rest of his days. Joanna Stevenson- Their mother, a workaholic who can't stand sitting still for one second, and who works as a Board Member for Alternate Acquisitions, LLC.
Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?: DA. Sample Post:
Although it had only been minutes since Jordan called up to Midas’ office to tell him that they had acquired a specimen while in the sewers outside of the underground laboratories that reside in the sublevels of the Midas Industries facility, it seemed as if much more time had passed. It was times like this when Midas cursed the speed of his private elevator, which allowed him easy access from his office directly to the sublevels of Midas Industries. Although the elevator itself surpassed the speed of traditional elevators, for a man like Midas, it was never fast enough. Especially if the screenshot that Jordan had sent him from his body cam was to be believed. It seemed that in an era of “Gods and Monsters,” Mr. Jordan may have delivered the latter directly to his doorstep.
It was certainly an interesting prospect. Should he be able to convince this being to join his cause, he could be on the verge of accomplishing something truly great.
As the elevator came to a stop in the sublevels of the Midas Industries industrial complex, his heart began to raise with anticipation, and when the doors finally opened and he laid eyes on the mysterious being that had allowed Jordan and his men to bring her to him, all expectations were exceeded. The woman, who stood just a few inches under seven feet tall, with skin almost as black as pitch was a sight to behold. Though she had agreed to follow his men, something about the way that she held herself suggested that she was powerful indeed. Midas just hoped that he would be able to harness that power for himself and his cause.
“I must say, when Mr. Jordan called me to let me know that he had discovered you down below, I was not prepared for you.” Midas said with the smile of a snake oil salesman. “I’m Richard Midas, and I’d like to welcome you to Lost Haven.”
Raeviir regarded the man with a mixture of amusement, interest, and barely-concealed contempt. This was just another human - just as ordinary a meatsack as everyone else around here. He wasn’t armed, however - was he a fool or arrogant? Even the men who had found her were armed, and they had paled before her strength, and now this… this man dared to stand before her, weaponless? Raeviir didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ”For a man named Midas, and the esteem with which these little bugs held you in… I’m disappointed. Where’s the gold? Where’s the opulence? All I see in front of me is a short little human male. You’re all males. All of you, no doubt holding your women in bondage and slavery as you always are.” Raeviir scoffed, her emerald eyes glowing brightly with emotion; disgust, boredom, disappointment. ”I can guarantee you, human, that none of your kind are ever ready… especially for me. Thanks for your welcome. I suppose I should at least extend you the courtesy of my name… Raeviir El’Anadar, Pathfinder and Kinslayer.”
Behind her, one of the armed men, no doubt tired of Raeviir’s attitude towards them all, and especially Midas, went to raise his weapon. In less than a heartbeat, Raeviir whirled around, drawing her scimitar and activating the runes, flooding the area with a burst of faerzress energy, and igniting the blade’s acidic venom. ”Drop the fucking weapon, you idiot. I guarantee you I’ll remove your head from your pathetic little shoulders quicker than you can even raise that to fire at me. I’ve had children tougher than you try to kill me and fail.” Raeviir’s face was contorted into a vicious snarl, her teeth bared and her voice dripping with hatred. ”I said, DROP IT!” Raeviir pushed the blade in contact with the man’s helmet, where the caustic fluids coating the blade began to corrode the helmet’s metal, green flame licking at the man’s head.
Humans. Always the fucking same.
Midas had been at the ready with a witty retort, however, as he watched the acid from the strange woman’s blade eat its way through the helmet, and if it hadn’t been for the quick reaction of the man, who ripped his helmet off and flung it away from himself, the acid very well could have eaten away into his flesh, he felt all urges for witticism fall to the wayside. Midas now knew that this woman, whoever...whatever she was, was not someone to be taken lightly. She was a woman of incredible skill, if not incredible power, and it would be in his best interest to not only avoid the woman’s ire, but somehow get her to join forces with him.
“I assure you, my lady, we most certainly are not all the same.” Midas said cooly, doing his best to conceal the very real horror that he was feeling, not only due to this woman’s show of aggression, but the thought that he could suffer a similar fate as his man’s helmet.. “Now, if you’d follow me, I would love to show you around.” Midas said as he motioned for her to follow.
”You can assure me all you want, human- Midas, it doesn’t make a damned bit of difference. I’ve had three times your lifetime of experience. You’re just lucky I’ve nobody else to turn to… or at least, I haven’t had chance to see anyone else before your men picked me up in those damned sewers.” Raeviir snarled and lowered her sword, the man she’d threatened having thrown away both his weapon and his helmet, which was beginning to corrode at an alarming rate, eventually igniting in a burst of green flames. Raeviir scoffed and turned back to Midas. ”Fine. I suppose I’ll see whatever it is you have to show me… and you won’t need your guards. Two reasons...” Raeviir’s snarl turned into a smirk of self-satisfaction, bordering on outright arrogance. ”Number one, it’s not polite to show a lady around whilst shoving a gun in her back. And two… In the time it would take them to raise their weapons in the first place, you’d be a headless corpse, twitching on the floor.”
Nevertheless, Raeviir sheathed Suffering. ”Off we go. Any traps and you all die screaming. I swear it by the Queen.”
“There will be no need for that.” Midas said as he ordered his men to fall back. “Right this way my dear, I have so much to show you.” He said as if he were trying to regain control of the situation before he led her into the heart of the complex.
Raeviir’s menacing tone did not budge. She looked at Midas, staring deep into his eyes, almost right through him. She knew she was at the advantage here, and she knew she would eke every single moment of power over these humans. And she’d enjoy it. ”I will be the judge of that. On both counts.”
“Indeed, I’m sure.” Midas said in a tone that was meant to placate the bizarre woman. He had already gotten off on the wrong foot with Racheli, and that was a mistake that he attempting to avoid with this creature. As he approached the doorway into the facility, he paused momentarily and motioned for her to follow. “This way, Lady Raeviir, I have someone that I am looking forward to having make your acquaintance.”
So, if you aren't in Discord right now (and why wouldn't you be?), I really like the awards idea. We'll do 2 Awards sessions this season, one for the Season 2 Anniversary, then at the end of the season, we'll do an official Season 2 Awards that will encompass the full season.
Also, forgive my absence as of late, I've had a nasty flu.