SilverRain

Vigil!

Name: Mark Winters (Streak was his old nick)

Age:37

Occupation:
Illegal:
* Body treatment disposal.
* Torture service comes free of charge.
Legal:
* Previously: Bike mechanic
* Current: 'Junkyard technician'

Appearance:
* 188cm, tall strong and muscular build.
* Tattoos line his entire body.
* Hair is black with a red streak on the right.

Personality:
* In three words - wild, cocky, doesn't give a shit.

History:
Mark first started in vandalism and looting stores, setting fire to the ones that pissed him off. Not belonging to any particular group back then, he quickly found himself in jail for property damage and theft. When he got out, he took to cagefighting where he met his current boss, apparently by accidentally squirting a large amount of his opponent's blood onto the Boss.

(History subject to change depending on which Mafia we decide on)

Skills:
* Body disposal
* Torture
* Theft
* Vandalism
* Beating shit out of people for fun

Gear:
* Favourite baseball bat
* Desert Eagle
* MP5
* Ducati
* Equipment used for torture, mutilation and disposal. Vivisection if he feels mean.

Other: Vigil.
* Mark likes boobs. But be warned, those who RP as a guy. If you make your guy too sexy and alluring, you'll start to find that Mark has the hots for you. He'll understand a solid 'no' of course. That being said, he currently has no romantic interest, unless the bike counts.
* When Mark gets drunk he starts talking to the wall! Please don't film him.
* Mark can't dance.
* Don't go near the junkyard dogs. He feeds them human meat. You're human meat. Those are cheap chains.

Vote: English Mafia. Mark would seem to fit the English mafia more, if only because his style is more brash than the Italians, and his tattoos don't look like Yakuza ones.

Vigil!

Looking to join as a mafia member. Dibs on body disposing! No preference on which nationality of mafia.

CS coming soon. Though if someone else wants body disposal, I can have my character do other things instead.

Vigil

Love the idea! :)

Interested~!

Life Continues

Mark had finished checking the crates of stolen goods and was about to leave when he heard sirens blaring outside. "Fuckin' SHIT!" hissed Mark to himself as he bolted the metal doors shut and cocked his gun. He was trapped in here wasn't he? Were they going to shoot? How many damn cops are out there? He had guns alright. Enough to last him a while, but the cops would just gas him out. Damn cops!

The sirens then disappeared into the distance. Mark was left frozen for a good while, wanting to make sure that they had really left. He could still hear his own heartbeat loudly. A sigh of relief.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

The sound made Mark jump into attack mode again as he pointed at the door from the shadows. Then came a loud voice from outside. "Hey Scrapper? You in there still? Open up goddammit!". Mark recognised the voice as Blade's - another member of the gang, the getaway driver usually. Mark threw open the doors, none too happy about being startled like that. Well, not that he was going to admit it.

"Why the fuck are you here?" questioned Mark as he sat atop on of the boxes.

"Here to get supplies. We're all being shoved back into the ditches. Patrols are gettin' denser" replied Blade as he rummaged through the boxes.

"What's going on? Terrorists loose? Them cops not trying to get us right?"

"Nah. They seem to be hiding something though. A few stores were burning down. No one even tried to help. No ambulance. Nothing"

"Hey. You know what would be good now?" said Mark as he slyly looked back at Blade.

"Drugs?"

"Fuck no. The license to loot. We steal some cop suits and throw people against the walls. Empty their wallets. Bam! Easy pickings! Maybe even get us into special areas!" said Mark as he locked up the container. The boss wouldn't mind a bit of a delay.

"Kill cops? Are you nuts?!"

Mark grinned as he started his bike. "Hop on"

The two gangsters speed off on Mark's motorcycle, travelling along the sewer lines and alleyways where few patrolled. Whenever they would hear the loud engine of a tank or helicopter nearby, they would take an alternative route. They circled the streets for a while before they went into the red light district and came to a stop behind a prostitute business with a cop car parked out front. They headed up the stairs and sure enough, loud pleasurable sounds could be heard from behind the door. Apparently some cops wanted a time out. And a timeout they shall get.

Bursting through the door, Mark and Blade caught the cops by surprise. It didn't help that the three cops were naked from head to toe and away from their weapons. The prostitute screamed and fled onto the streets, causing wild hooting from a few beggars outside. During that hooting, Mark was beating the hell out of the cops who were too tired to fight back. Melee weapons were enough for this situation and soon there were three dead, useless cops.

"Well now what?" asked Blade as held up one of the uniforms, not really wanting to wear it. "Want me to take the cop car?"

"Leave it for now. We'll ask the Boss that" replied Mark as he listened to one of the shoulder radios. Shame he didn't understand any of the cryptic cop codes. 101? 15? What the hell? Bundling up the clothes into a duffel bag, Mark and Blade headed back outside. Their hideout wasn't far from here.

Life Continues

My post will be coming up today. :)

Letters From Home

What's the setting going to be? Can I write my posts as Dear Diary entries instead of letters? Can I keep a character for myself?

Life Continues

Lo, can I just check with you if it's okay to introduce a gang buddy for Mark? Considering Mark's current situation where he's alone, I can have more things happen if there's two of them. Would there be any details you need for the gang buddy? Mark will still be my main character though.

Life Continues

Eh, I'm not actually expecting Mark to become a power god. He's more like the type who dies alone in a corner sadly laughing to himself. I'll leave out the humour (sorry about that).

Life Continues

So I feel kinda dumb for sending Mark away from the escape route, but then that's what Mark would do. He's not one to run. Lo - please let me know if that's okay. If it throws a wrench in the works, I can edit. Also, let me know if the container's contents are alright. I don't plan for it to be a shopping centre, but figured that what a gang's container would have.

Also, also, bras are fun to rapidly spin around. I like to put a bit of humour in my posts... :P And to cover my ass in case 14C (Aus) can be misinterpreted as an underage size overseas, here's a conversion chart.

Life Continues

Mark sped along the highway in the opposite direction, silently laughing at all the suckers who were too chicken to stay. Looks like everyone was falling for the media. How bad could it be anyways? Probably just a flu thing were they'll give out vaccines. And since... if there was a bomb or something...uh...

Mark stopped. No, can't be a bomb. Those sirens would have blared by now. Or maybe something new was announced over the media and he didn't know about it. The fear was slowly surrounding Mark like a pack of wolves about to dine on their meal. It seemed more and more people were running. Was it better to do what everyone else was doing and leave as well? Leave whilst there was still time? Heck, if there was anything, first come first served. Mark looked back along the road. His bike would be really handy when it came to squeezing between the lanes. Maybe it would be best if he -

The loud screech of metal slamming and being crushed, made Mark cry out like he never had before. He didn't remember what he shouted but, damn he sounded weak. Where was the sound coming from? How fast was it? Was this it? Him turning into bloody roadkill? The gangster did all that he could - cover his head and hunch over, hoping that he wouldn't become a splattered mess. Then everything fell silent. Was he dead? Where was the pain? He could hear again... his heart beating rapidly, the sound of engines slowly moving away. Mark's other senses slowly came back to him. It took a moment for the gangster to recollect himself. He was scared shitless. His hands were shaking. Dammit! Stop shaking!

"... quarantine..." came the voice of someone in the distance. Mark looked up to find the tank moving along the highway, crushing and pushing cars away.

A quarantine? It sounded believable... but Mark didn't want to give in. He didn't want to become just another panicky member of the public. He was a gangster, a proud thug. He was not scared of stupid quarantines! He had to check on the container and report back to the Boss. Mark reached for his phone, only to curse at the networks being down. Maybe... That is... unless his Boss had also left by now.

Was this really a quarantine? Or was everyone scaring each other because they were scared? Then again... the switched off media channels... The tank. But a quarantine for what? Terrorists? Must be pretty big to call out tanks like that. Can't be terriorists... they'll let people out, not restrict them... Maybe prisoners escaped or something.

If this was a quarantine, the container would be the safest place. If this wasn't a quarantine, then the Boss would want to know if cops found the container! Mark throttled his bike again, going up to full speed as he went deeper into the town, in the opposite direction of everyone else. His heart felt strange and his hands were still shaking, but Mark hoped he was right.

---

Mark soon reached the gang's container, hidden deep within an old construction site. Good... the place was clear. He unlocked the huge metal doors, cursing as they were now rusted enough to be hard to push open. He wheeled in his bike and then closed the door, breathing a sigh of relief. Why did he just do that? Relief for entering a container? The crowd mentality must be getting to him. Mark flicked on the torch as he went to check the boxes one by one.

Jewellery 'n' cash - check. Drugs were somewhere else... Expensive electronics - check. Guns - check. Wine that he couldn't drink - check. A FREAKIN' 14C BRA? Getting distracted, Mark lifted up the lacy... thing and stared at it for a good moment for two. What was a bra doing here? Oh now he got it... heheh. Funny. Mark began to rapidly spin the bra around on his finger for fun. Well, not that he liked women much, but the bra was funny.

*spin* *spin* *spin* *flies off*