The Stories of Our Characters

[Kewlin 692]

Up front, I would like to request that anyone who doesn’t feel up to reading this entire topic and following the rules in it not post in this thread, and instead post their story in their own thread, as the purpose of this thread is to create an organized setting for people to share their work.

 

This thread is a new version of the thread by the same name on the previous APB forums. The purpose of this thread is to create a more organized thread for people to not only share the stories of their characters, but also for us to share our thoughts and critiques of each other’s work. There have been other threads dedicated to similar purposes, but they are generally poorly structured and quickly become difficult to navigate. My intention is to minimize the size of each person’s story via a standardized formatting with spoilers, thus allowing the dialogue between writers to easily be read, and then making stories easily accessible with an index near the start of the thread, sorted by player (and character.)

 

It should be obvious, but I request that all criticism be kept constructive. Any unnecessarily rude comments will be reported and hopefully actioned upon by mods. However, it is my intention that criticism be made, and I greatly appreciate criticism, as it is necessary for us to grow in our skills.

 

RULES: If nothing else, the most important rule for you to follow is putting your story in a spoiler. For those of us who don’t know how to make a spoiler on the forums, you simply need to type [.s.p.o.i.l.e.r.] (without the periods) before your text, and [./.s.p.o.i.l.e.r.] after your text (yet again, without the periods.) Additionally, suggest that you manually censor all filtered words by replacing all letters but the first letter with an asterisk (*) to reduce unintended silliness.

Finally, I ask, though I cannot enforce it, for you to follow the following format, with character information aside from their name being optional.

 

 

Character Name: (in bold)

Story Title: (if applicable, and in bold)*

 

Additional Information:

 

Faction:

Age:

Gender:

Height:

Weight:

Hair Color:

Eye Color:

Race:

+Additional optional information

 

Story:

 

 

<Insert body of text here>
 

 

*This is the title of the story. If the story is straight-forward, this may be unnecessary, but in some cases, such as mine where I'm posting my character's journal, this might be helpful.

Edited May 26, 2018 by Kewlin

[Kewlin 692]

KEWLIN:
Vivi Viktoriya:
Vivi's Journal: Part I

Vivi's Journal: Part II

Vivi's Journal: Part III

 

KORIYASA:

Koriyasa

 

METHLAB:

Ophelia 'Meth Lab' Sakriin:

Lab Rats

 

NEVV:

Byeon Bloodrose:

Splinter

 

SIXXSTAGESOFMAJIK:

The Story of the 6 Stages of Majik

 

S00THSAYER:

Soothsayer:

The Ghost of Gresty

 

TacticallyRed:

Scarlet 'Red' Wiltshire:

Blood Stained Money

UUBEHNUBEH DAWOG:

Uube:

Unspoken Tales of San Paro

 

 

While my intent is to get as many stories from the old forums moved as possible, not all of the stories from the original thread are likely to make it here, so if anyone wants to take a trip back in time, they're welcome to visit my thread on the old forums here.

Edited January 24, 2019 by Kewlin

[Kewlin 692]

Reserved

[Kewlin 692]

Character Name: Vivian "Vivi" Viktoriya

Story Title: Vivi's Journal: Part I

 

Additional Information

 

Faction: Criminal
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Height: 6' 2"
Weight: 149 lb
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Amber

 

Story:

 

Dear journal,

How are you?

What the s**** am I doing? It’s not like my journal’s going to respond.

 

How do you write in a journal? Like, people actually do this? Some chick I know told me I should write some crap about my life in a journal: she said it would help me deal with my problems. She just kicked the bucket a couple days ago, so I feel like I owe her the benefit of the doubt or something. I don't know, all I know is I'm writing in this dumb journal. The way I see it, I don't have any problems, I'm basically alright, but other people in the G-Kings seem to think I'm a psycho b**** or something; from my point of view, all of my peers in the G's suck and don't know s****, and they just can’t understand the way I think, that's what I see it anyways. The higher ups will get me, they must be able to see the world how it is, and if they don’t understand the world like I do, maybe I just need to start my own bada** gang. Maybe I don't need a gang? I probably I could just fix this city on my own. Who knows?

 

Let's hope you know, because you’re supposed to give me answers or some bulls*** like that. I hope you can live up to my expectations.

 

So it all goes like this: I was a baby, and then I grew up, and some people tried to hurt me, and I killed them, and I killed some other people, and now I'm writing about it in a dumb journal. THE END. Wait, s***, no, that's not the end, ‘cause I’m still alive. Ooops.

 

Maybe there's somebody that's going to end me now. . . and I just predicted the future by writing that my life would end here.

 

No, I'm still alive.

 

I’ll try this again I guess. I used to be a college girl before I was me, a bit over a year ago I guess; maybe I should start there. I could have been one of those Prentiss Tiger idiots, so I suppose I'm lucky life changed me, even if I had to learn the hard way. Some people just have an epiphany, and they see the world in a new and brilliant way, and it’s easy. Me? I got gang r***d and sold into prostitution by some Barbarian thugs; If that hadn’t happened though, and the timing hadn’t been right, I would probably be one of those Prentiss Tiger b****es. It’s scary just thinking about what I might have been, sometimes I think about the poor b******s we’re fighting, and how they used to be just like me, they just weren’t fortunate enough to be chosen to fight on the right side. I guess fate has a way of smiling on some of us, right? I digress, back to the point. I guess I spent about a year of my life as a sex slave until one day these G-Kings came in shooting the place up. I was in a room with my pimp when they kicked the door down, and that b****** pimp pulled a gun and tried to use me as a shield. Fortunately for me, he wasn't so bright, and when I resisted and he pulled the trigger, his gun went click instead of bang, and the G’s shot his knees full of lead. Now he's on the ground, and I start kicking him, I start punching him, and soon I'm beating in his ribs in with a lamp. One of the G's puts his hand on my shoulder, and it takes me a couple of seconds, but I calm down a bit and turn around. He's crouched down next to me with a pistol in his hand, and he's trying to give it to me, he says, "it's easier with this." The pimp's only half conscious at this point, so taking it all out on him's not quite as fun anymore, so I took the gun and I put it up to his forehead. He looked up at me and tried to claw at the gun, I pushed his hand out of the way and shot.

 

The adrenaline died down and the drugs came back into play, and next thing I remember the G's have taken me and a couple of the other girls in. Most of the girls left the G’s, either because they just wanted to live normal lives or because they didn’t have what it took to become a G-King. A few of us stayed though, and the G-Kings made us their own. To the rest of the world I’m dead, but I’ve never felt more alive. After a bit, once I got with the G’s and they knew I was here to stay, they got me hanging out with this girl Double-B. She’s was nice; seemed to have her head in the right place, (though she might be a little out of it, and a little pessimistic,) but it seems like they try to move on the new G’s as fast as they can, and now I’m rolling with Veronika Lee’s crew. Veronika’s alright: she’s a bit self-centered seeming, but I suppose that’s to be expected.

 

Anyways, we’re putting up our colors around Havalynd tomorrow, so I should get some sleep. I’ll try to write you some more soon if I’m still around.

 

Confusedly,

     Vivian Viktoriya
 

 

Edited May 26, 2018 by Kewlin

[Kewlin 692]

Character Name: Vivian "Vivi" Viktoriya

Story Title: Vivi's Journal: Part II

 

Additional Information

 

Faction: Criminal
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Height: 6' 2"
Weight: 149 lb
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Amber

 

Story:

 

So remember when I wrote to you about a two weeks ago about how I saw one of my regular “customers” on TV the other day? Some b****** politician, I’m not going to bother with names in case you fall into the wrong hands. People wonder why there’s so much crime in this city, but it seems pretty obvious to me that it’s because it trickles down from the top. I mean, taking bribes is one thing, but practically funding a brothel?

 

Anyone who has faith in this city’s government either has no eyes or no brains. It’s lying b******s like him who ruin everything for humanity. It’s easy to deal with the little guy when he goes wrong, but when someone big decides to go against the rules? Nobody has the guts to stop someone with “authority,” but now I know that there’s no authority in this city past what you can earn with a gun; the law is old-hat, and we all know it won’t last much longer. It’s people like me who don’t see the hierarchy the same way that can help save the city.

 

Getting on with the story, I heard that the b****** was speaking at some rally yesterday, I don’t know what it was about, probably some bleeding heart bulls*** about cleaning up the streets or something, I was too far away to hear it. I’d always thought it looked too easy to set up a shot at someone during one of those things, I mean, who’s going to stop someone from taking a shot?

 

Apparently nobody was going to stop me, because they didn’t. The rally was at Jangma Square, right out in the open. I found a vacant apartment in the Jangma complex, rented a rifle, took the shot, and left. It was that easy. If you don’t make things complicated, they don’t have to be. No sending messages, no signatures, no nothing, just a dead guy in the middle of the square. I mean, it’s no fun, but I can just save the fun for when someone else is cleaning up.

 

Side note, what’s with the courtyard behind the Jangma Apartments? What, was it designed by a disorganized schizophrenic or something?

 

Anyways, I have to go clear up some s***, some dumba** let Shift and Chiro try and give me jobs on the same day. How in hell am I supposed to do throw up some graff and steal bodies at the same time?

 

I don’t know if I’d rather deal with dumba**es critiquing my art or hack apart a body.

 

     Vivi
 

 

Edited May 26, 2018 by Kewlin

[Kewlin 692]

Character Name: Vivian "Vivi" Viktoriya

Story Title: Vivi's Journal: Part III

 

Additional Information

 

Faction: Criminal
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Height: 6' 2"
Weight: 149 lb
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Amber

 

Story:

 

Dear diary,

 

I don’t know where to start. . .

 

 

Harmon’s a good guy: he’s seen the real world, and he wants to change it. It’s guys like him that I fight for, people who aren’t completely f***ed up in the head, you know? There are some good people here, you’ve just got to look. So when Harmon asks me a personal favor, you know, to do something out of the ordinary, I can’t look the other way, even if I don’t like it.

 

I don’t know the details, and I don’t know if I care, but Harmon got involved with some Blood Rose and they came calling on him for backup. Like I said, I don’t know the circumstances, but it seemed like the higher-ups in the Roses wanted to watch Harmon’s friend to burn. Maybe that’s not the situation, but I like to think I fight for the rebel: the troublemaker: the underdog; you know? the little guy, like me and Harmon.

 

The Rose we were backing up is holed up in Havalynd, where Harmon isn’t supposed to operate on account of the big Benjamin’s orders. Harmon’s already getting enough flak as it is, so that means that if s*** goes sideways, he had nothing to do with it: we’re just some punks acting by ourselves. I guess good things can’t happen unless you put something on the line though, right? I sure as f*** hope that’s true at least.

 

Three nut jobs and I loaded into a van, I’m tasked with supporting fire, some hotshot who’s too cool for his shirt is our pointman, and a chick in pink and her bo who’s driving have got some rifles. We backed our van straight into the f***ing shootout; the Tigers and ‘Torians are unloading on our car; I’m hiding behind a shield set up in the back. I opened the door as we get closer and started laying down some covering fire; the hotshot and pink girl jumped out and started advancing, with the driver moving up soon after. There must have been a dozen enforcers. As my team settled into their cover, my attention shifted for a second, and out of the corner of my eye I saw the Progress National Bank, and then I looked over and recognize the God damned Praetorium, somebody f***ed up, and we were in deep s***.

 

My team laid downs some fire; I advanced. We got some support fire from the Roses, and s*** was risky, but we couldn’t stay where we were on the low ground with barely any cover, so we were forced to run for it. Pink got shot in the leg, fell over, and was shot full of bullets and spread all over the f***ing ground in a matter of seconds as the rest of us took cover behind the wall we had just jumped. We just sat there for a bit. We all knew we were f***ed, and Pink’s bo had all but turned into a waterfall. There was no good course of action. We had to do something, so I laid down some more cover fire so my team had a chance to meet up with the Roses and hopefully go from there. They managed to get up to the Roses, but lucky me, when they tried to flank the enforcers on the bank, they ate a grenade. I was stuck on the low ground, and I wasn’t so sure the three Roses left were going to help me out that much. I picked too heads off to startle the enforcers and retreated to try to find a more defensible position, and the Roses followed suit.

 

We ran back as bullets flew past us, but we had enough cover and they were too far away to hit. I shot the lock off of some warehouse or something, and we holed up in there. Five or so of the enforcers advanced toward us, and started trying to make their way into the building. Unfortunately, the two guys who made it back with me weren’t worth s***, so when my gun ran dry I didn’t have time to reload before they were both shot dead. I barely had time to pull out my pistol and I had two guns aimed at me.

 

When you’ve got two people just waiting for you to slip and show a weakness, you can’t back down; you’ve got to stay strong; you can’t show fear. I didn’t have much time to think; I had to one-up them and win the stare-down before they knew it was happening; it was my only choice. I pissed myself. I shot one in the head; the second guy just barely missed me with his shot, and I blew his brains onto the wall. I didn’t have time to get my bearings back before a tiger walked in and planted a warning shot right next to my head. She beckoned, and I threw her my piece; the last thing I was expecting was for her to drop hers and walk toward me pulling a sword off of her back.

 

I picked up a crowbar and tried to defend myself, but she threw me on the ground, swinging down, cutting up my face, slashing my chest. I turned to try and crawl away like a beat animal, blinded by the blood flowing over my eyes with no clue what I was doing. My open wounds dragged along the concrete as she played with me, hacking at my back. I heard shots fired and the girl was gone. I turned around to look and see what had happened, and as I blacked out and fell back, I saw a man in a red shirt with a black scarf and hat walk up to me, looking down at me through aviators, smiling.

 

So now I’m down in some Blood Rose funded hospital recovering, and I can’t put this mommy together in my head. Ever since I first pulled the trigger on that ACT for the first time, I’ve had nothing to lose, so why was I afraid of dying? It doesn’t make any f***ing sense, I don’t get it, I’m better than that, I’m not just another selfish c***. Am I not who I thought I was? Am I just acting tough, playing a role, pretending to be some ruthless b****? How am I supposed to go on with my life knowing that I can crack like that? I can’t save the city if I can’t rely on myself. I’m worthless.

 

 

I don’t know myself anymore, I don’t know anything.
 

 

Edited May 26, 2018 by Kewlin

[Cazadora 153]

-Reserved spot-

[MethLab 27]

Character Name: Ophelia "Meth Lab" Sakriin

Story Title: Lab Rats

 

 

Faction: Criminal to Enforcer

Age: Twenty-eight
Gender: Female

Height: 6'8"
Weight: 212 lbs

Hair Color: Black (Red Highlights)

Eye Color: Emerald Green

Race: Orsilian

Photos:

 

 

 

Meat and Potatoes

 

When a cook tosses a hunk of meat into a grinder, the product comes out a moldable mass. Ophelia was the lead brick tossed into the meat grinder. From her earliest days she found herself locked away inside of Brightwood Academy for the Gifted. At the very mention of this name would bring a scoff to our under achiever. They were never gifted, only young and had minds easy to manipulate, with her as the exception. Whether it was pride or confidentiality, despite her resistance they kept her locked away with hopes to break her.

As her thirteenth year of remembrance rolled around it was examination once more. On a black rainy day the lightning flashed in the window as she stood five feet from another girl who was very institutionalized. Ophelia felt only disgust for her weak mind and what was supposed to be a graceful fencing match up ended with the other girl being carried out on a stretcher with two broken limbs. Ophelia was receptive to the training but mind breaking lessons fell upon deaf ears and blind eyes. Year after year she scored high in physical talent and never attempted their mental tests, she knew it was their way to plant seeds in her head. She was at hells gate but refused to knock.

After her fifteen birthday she waited for anything to happen and the ear piercing sound of gunfire, glass raining to the linoleum floors, and shrieks brought her to the room where she watched her captors, teachers, and other girls being arrested. Fight or flight wasn't even thought about, her instinct to bail was quick but was quickly halted running face first into a Kevlar vest worn by a soldier with a metal arm. Quickly apprehended she begged and pleaded to not be arrested by the woman, it was easy to tell she wasn't institutionalized. Instead of shipping her off to a loony bin with the rest this woman falsified her report claiming one escaped. This was the first step to having a real parent. The soldier revealed herself as Aundii Sakriin and that she would adopt the young girl.

Ophelia didn't hesitate to accept and promised to return the favor. Living in a real home was odd. Taken so far away from the cold state of Minnesota all the way to California, she was taken to a town home where she had her own room. It was a blank slate for only a short time.Aundii's operation yielded much to offer financially and she took that to decorate Ophelia's room. A real bedroom, her own bathroom, and sunlight waking her in the morning was almost overwhelming. For what felt like forever she smiled, often Audio found the teen laying in the grass baking in the sun.

A year later she was informed she would be attending Border High School and she would have lots of work to do. Hesitant and fearful the girl's body look twice as big as each strand of her fur stood up being around in the crowded halls. She had never seen so mamy people and so diverse. Black, white, fur, skin, tall, short, male, female, it was all so much for her to take in. Aundii went through many explanations how Ophelia may experience deep rooted traumatic experiences revealing themselves and she had to control them. It was because of this the young woman was found by her mother crying sitting across the principals office from another classmate with a black and swollen eye. A disapproving mother looked at the other in disgust referring to Ophelia as a crazy freak who needed an insane asylum. The principal turned red in the face as Aundii lifted her sleeve revealing the metallic arm balled into a fist claiming she would be willing to try and make her outside in the parking lot. This girl Mallory, one of the type to bully or control new girls wasnt prepared for Ophelia to settle the score on the first day. During a lunch period she dumped a bottle of lemonade on her head and proceeded to talk about how her head somehow was shaped like a lemon. No protest, no tears, simply a punch to the face and kick to the stomach. The room fell silent looking at the two girls, that the new girl had no issue striking someone a lot of people once feared. Somehow it was ground breaking to reveal the girl was nothing special. While both received detention, Mallory received suspension for bullying as other students came forward. A few hours after school, Ophelia was being waited on by her mother but when she exited the school she watched as a group of boys and girls wanted to thank her. She had found her first group of friends, nestling into her own niche.

High school was enjoyable but only when she was introduced to chemistry did she fall in love with learning. Everything was interested how elements reacted to other elements with many different variables. After a year, Ophelia converted the storage room into its own lab which inevitable required the house to be evacuated while she chemically washed it after a few spills. Almost into college she took on an idea to better the usage of the drug Meth again as a medical tool but after almost three years of research she was turned down by the Board of Ethics. Her eyes set on the medical field decided to operate in secret with next city druggies. The offer of free meth had them coming quick for her experiments. Without the bad effects the drug cleared the system quickly, didn't wear down heavily on the skin, and had no addictive ingredients. It was now she got into the drug making game, but she needed a lab.

As cunning as she was, she slipped herself into an executive bar to meet and entice the CEO of WeatherTec Inc. A clean case of entrapment she took him by the balls with blackmail and demanded direct access to his funds to fuel her research. Feeling relieved it wasn't a massive sum of cash she quickly agreed as long as the pictures of her and him together never reached the press. As the money came in, so did her lab upgrades. Simple enough so she couldn't be traced, Ophelia took her chance and began selling the clean drug on the streets. It only took a month for other dealers to catch wind and confront her. Local drug dealers started ending up in hospitals and jails for possession covered in. Bruises. As her product selection expanded so did her list of enemies. It was when she finally picked up her first rifle, a brand new stock N-Tec from her Local gun seller. An entire warehouse was shot up and the police woke up to a bloodbath. Ophelia was ruthless and her Meth Making business wasn't going to stop with some threats so she made the first move. Murdering an entire gang district in cold blood she came out with six new guns, four members, and a fat stack of loot. No longer doing her own product, she just was protecting her position. Years went by and everything simply grew bigger and bigger, she was on top of the world.

At the peak of her career she wanted a fix and went to rob a bank, plain and simple. It was when she met Nolan Baxter and he turned her life upside down. A blonde androgynous human school boy sweet talked her into a date while he was held hostage while the used a service tunnel to escape with the money. Left at the end of a canal, he swallowed his fear and asked Ophelia on a date after the hour long walk filled with chatting. The boldness, despite the gun pointed to his head, was blinding and she accepted. Soon after she had her first date, their relationship took off. When she turned twenty-six she woke up with a cheery smile on her face and positive pregnancy test in her fingers. Though while Nolan was away she had to stop and think, she wasn't going to be able to raide a child as a criminal.

With careful consideration she requested the aide of her computer wiz to get the direct number to the detective trying to find her. Sheriff Jeremy Warchest, a man with a family and team, woke very sleepy. She told him to come and come alone or else she wouldn't show. Against his better judgement he was there and she met him. She showed him the pregnancy test and told him she didn't want to spend her life in jail, be in harms way, but wanted to serve and protect. Once more...against his better judgement he felt bad for the child to come to be without a mother. Her efforts helped hunt tough to find king pins and her product, volatile by the book was clean. Through the tough strings to pull, she made it to be his hard working Secretary. Now she works as a Secretary, auxiliary field agent, mother, and wife.

 

Nolan and Ophelia

 

 

 

 

 

Edited June 11, 2018 by MethLab
Formatting Issues

[Kewlin 692]

1 hour ago, MethLab said:

~snip~

 

Your story is fun and cute, I like it! Thanks for being the first person to post on my thread on the new forums.  :3

 

Is it at all possible that you could fix the formatting a little though? It looks like you currently have your post inside of a broken quote or something, and I'd really appreciate it if you could set it up in three totally separate spoilers (Additional Information, Photos, Meat and Potatoes; I don't mind that the pics with Nolan are inside of a spoiler inside Meat and Potatoes.)

 

Anyhoo, nice story, thanks for sharing.

[MethLab 27]

18 minutes ago, Kewlin said:

 

Your story is fun and cute, I like it! Thanks for being the first person to post on my thread on the new forums.  :3

 

Is it at all possible that you could fix the formatting a little though? It looks like you currently have your post inside of a broken quote or something, and I'd really appreciate it if you could set it up in three totally separate spoilers (Additional Information, Photos, Meat and Potatoes; I don't mind that the pics with Nolan are inside of a spoiler inside Meat and Potatoes.)

 

Anyhoo, nice story, thanks for sharing.

Okay I think i got it fixed up! But thank you i finally had the time to sit down and write out the outline. Maybe one day i'll actually write out the proper novel...but there's so much more to it XD

[Kewlin 692]

10 minutes ago, MethLab said:

Okay I think i got it fixed up! But thank you i finally had the time to sit down and write out the outline. Maybe one day i'll actually write out the proper novel...but there's so much more to it XD

 

Yup, all good now, thanks! Good luck with your future writing, and if there's anything else you ever want to post APB related feel free to post it here.

 

(As a side note, I need to try and get some of the people from the last forums to re-post their stories. . .)

[UubeNubeh DaWog 136]

For those who like mini novels, hope you enjoy this adventure.

I actually have plans to fix this up and continue on with it, although i have no idea when that will actually happen.

 

Character Name: "Uube"

Story Title: Unspoken Tales of San Paro

 

Additional Information:

 

Given Name: ????  ????
Faction: Factionless
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Height:5"8
Weight: 145 lbs/65kg
Hair Color: White(Originally Brunette)  
Eye Color: Blue(Originally Brown)
Race: Caucasian
+/Extra/Personality:

Introversion and social anxiety causes her to be generally quiet and shy in social situations. Keeping to herself is what makes getting close to her a mystery, because shes softly spoken towards the few she trusts and more awkward towards the few less she loves. Sounds of the world are what she adores, so she refrains from creating her own when unneeded. Music is her haven when a day is over and there is nothing left but to enjoy the night and its starry sky. When the time comes she will do what's nesecary, while being confident in herself and her abilities to do things on her own and her way.

 

 

Main Story:

 

Main story:

Weekend local markets were the new casual attraction in the central park of San Paro, and they promoted people not to let their lives be run by fear. Public gatherings and seeing new things strengthened solidarity between the people. The idea was working well: neighborhood markets lasting from morning to night was a bold move but the people took the opportunity to expand the stalls into a miniature camping city. Uube, accompanied by her younger sister and best friend, always made a point to meet in the park for the weekend markets, while getting out to experience normal life without the constant reminder of San Paro's daily struggle. One week in particular; by the time Uube had finally made time to meet the other two for their day at the markets, her best friend was already there and her sister had left some time earlier. Although it was early twilight, which was later than usual for their gathering, the night life of the markets was more than enough entertainment for them.

Uube was on her short walk to San Paro park, but suddenly she could hear a faint constant whirring sound, unsure of what it was. As she drew closer to the public gathering the noise grew louder and clearer, she started to recognize the sound. Noticing the television sets in the store window beside her, as they broadcasted the San Paro news with pictures of a large fiery and smokey area, the headline read; "Mass prison breakout: authorities urge people to stay indoors". Now she could recognize the alarm; it was emergency sirens making the call throughout the twilight sky. Seeing the news report caused her to increase her pace, trying to reach the park area as soon as possible; rounding the corner she could barely believe what was unfolding in front of her.

Sirens, fire, smoke and dust contaminated the air. Screams could be heard from the people scattered around in every direction; debris around the park crashed and cracked loudly. Market stalls were being battered and torn down from the explosions that rang out into the impromptu battlefield. People rushed around en masse as they occupied the now crowded park; salvation or oblivion were the only goals available that night. The SPPD were arriving on the scene in squads but it wasn't enough to contain the outbreak and they were completely outnumbered by the prisoners, and Uube didn't take chances with the authorities fighting a lost war. Moving from stall to stall, row to row she looked for any signs of her sister and best friend; the only family she had left. Searching through blazing tents and trashed equipment she received burns and scratches across her body but the adrenaline kept her going. Turning the corner of a tent she could see her sister and friend in the distance together; running through the fog and towards the center of the park. Calling out in vain, the sounds of calamity were too loud to communicate, so instead she chased after them. As they left her line of sight she noticed a few large figures follow promptly after them and was a clear sign of trouble that worried her.

Nearing the underpass of the park she could see in the short distance the large figures trying to corner her family; so, fueled by adrenaline she picked up the nearest object she could as a defensive weapon against the criminals: two short metal poles which had snapped from the adjacent collapsed tent. Rushing towards the men she drop kicked one and sent him sideways; taking advantage of the opening between the other three she moved past them to stand front of her sister and friend. She handed her friend the other metal pole and they took defensive stances, as the criminals helped their comrade onto his feet they sized up the girls and looked for opportunities to strike. After a brief pause one of the prisoners saw his opportunity and lunged forward; rushing head first into the girls he was swiftly struck across the hands and back by Uube, sending him to the ground. Another quickly tried to mimic his friend, making another grab at Uube, but he was quickly met with a pole to the head and dropped inches from her. Uube looked up to see her friend standing beside her; breathing heavily with the metal pole clutched in both hands as she watched Uube for signs of damage from the assailant.
 
Getting back into their defensive stances the men didn't back off, they could see behind the last two that another crim was hurriedly waving over more problems. That was the signal that standing and fighting was no longer a safe option, the three took off towards the east exit of the park towards Jangma square and the now burning coffee shop just beyond it. The men were not giving up the their pursuit and Uube had no plan for when they reached the shop at the edge of the park. While the edge of the park was safer than the hell within it, it was still far from the mayhem consuming the city. On their way to the exit each path was becoming more blocked with debris from the area and limiting their way of escape, the only option was to make their way through the gazebo that stood between them and the coffee shop. Reaching the stairs of the gazebo and coffee shop in clearer sight, Uube urged her sister in front to continue heading for the shop without stopping. As she saw her sister turn around to respond she could only see the feared expression of her sister, she could only stop to point out that behind them their friend was in dire trouble. Foreseeing impending danger, Uube barked at her sister to run, shocking her for a moment. Watching for a second as her sister whipped her head back around and taking off into the safe light of the city, she could now focus on dealing with the trouble upon her friend.

Turning back, Uube was surprised to see a pair bright shining lights coming towards their direction at an incredible speed. No one else seemed to notice the bright white death hurling towards them through the intense light of the flames and sounds of the city in the midst of destruction. Uube rushed towards the stairs of the gazebo where her friend had tripped but continued trying to clamber up them. She grabbed her friend, pulling her up as hard as she could and holding onto her as they made their way through the gazebo. All they could hear now was the deafening horn and roaring motor of a garbage truck, charging its way through  the fire and flames; not stopping for anything in its way. Even the unsuspecting men giving chase were taken hostage by the truck as it plowed its way through flesh and stone at full speed. Before making it through the opening of the gazebo and swallowing them as well, the truck exploded in a gigantic fireball from the torn wiring of the lights which sparked the leaking gas of the wrecking truck. Sending Uube and her friend flying off into the open, along with almost everything around them; the explosion marked the largest spectacle of the night. Uube landed hard onto a partially standing stall causing it to collapse onto her. Damaged and unconcious she was left under the debris unaware of her own existence; lost and forgotten to the continuing world.

As the fireball left from the explosion engulfed the sky for all to see, it was clear San Paro would never be the same after that night. The night wore on and so did the mayhem of the prison outbreak never slowing down throughout the night; only when morning came did the mayhem subside as the prisoners dispersed further and further into the city. As the dangers disappeared into the criminal underworld, San Paro was barely able to begin repairing itself after the carnage of that night. Smoldering debris lay scattered across the inner city parkland, slowly burning off the last of its energy from the broken temporary city that was its fuel. Sounds of machinery quietly made their existence into the morning as dump trucks reversed under excavators that tore piles of scrap away from each other. Excavators clearing pathways from debris for people and machinery to gain access around the demolished park. People yelled as they gave commands to the machine operators or called for medical services to tend to people who were found in and around the dangerous scrapyard. All the commotion began to shake Uubes' unconsciousness, waking her from her long absence from the world. Blinded by the layers of debris that stood above her, she shuffled her body and grabbed debris piece by piece tossing it aside. Her body ached with every movement but she stubbornly pushed herself to reach freedom, casting aside the last of the fallen stall that blocked her way. Finally reaching the daylight she grabbed herself and surrounding objects as she forced herself to stand, taking in the sights of the aftermath.
 
Scouring the demolished park for signs of life, trying to search the horizon with her eyes barely adjusted to light. Uube remembered the last normal moments of her life as she moved that short distance to familiar ground of the Jangma gazebo and the explosion that engorged it. Searching for her friend proved pointless, rubble and debris lay everywhere which made any signs of anyone else surviving the blast unclear. Uube collapsed to her knees as she became weak from the damage taking ahold of her body as well as despair creeping up on her as hope faded for the life of her friend. Trying to stand once more, her legs buckled beneath her and she fell to the ground as the sounds of shouting and the image of a person running towards her faded. Shortly she regained consciousness to the sight of the medic that had patched and tended to her wounds, shouting at others to get equipment to prepare Uube for transport to hospital. Watching as she laid there helplessly, due to fatigue she could only read a few words that left the mouth of the medic crouched above her "Just this one". She couldn't believe they were the words the medic said, memories flashed of her friend in her arms as the explosion took place and she couldn't fathom how she was the only one. While she laid there the medic continued to talk but her fatigue made it difficult to catch anything that was said, so she just closed her eyes to hold back tears. Being tapped she opened her eyes as the medic said a few more words, nodded then left, seemed like they found more people who needed help. As the medic left Uube remembered her sister and wondered if she got out safely after forcing her to leave them behind. Being hopeful that her sister got out safe from the carnage on that night, she regained enough energy to pick herself up and start her slow journey home. Every step ached of pain, every limp made her wince as she kept a tight hold onto the bandages on her body with one hand and any object she could to keep her upright with the other. Reaching her home after the long and tiring journey was not the relief she hoped for, instead it was the deciding blow to her sanity.

The prison break was no small riot which was evident by the extensive damage that had outspread from the inner city starting point. Viewing her street was like viewing an abandoned city, every house, every building was a shell of its once habitable domain. Broken windows covered every wall, broken down doors could be seen as she passed by each house clearly showcasing the damage inside as furniture and belongings were tossed out across the floors or window sills. Access to her own home was just as simple as the rest, through the broken front door to room after room of terrorized appliances and objects as if a hurricane had whipped its way through. Entering with caution as she called for her sister while searching each room for something to salvage, no response was heard and everything was damaged beyond repair. There was nothing left for her in the very same place she once had everything. No longer able to contain despair, Uube stumbled her way into her friends room, collapsing before the bed onto the items of clothing strewn across the floor before she passed out from the pain. Awaking from her short coma granted her no relief as the loss of her family caused her just as much pain as her injuries. Falling into depression she no longer wanted to move from the shell of her home to eat or live, just to sleep in the darkness and live in the underworld spending every moment reliving her past and the night she lost it all. Losing track of time didn't matter to her anymore, she didn't remember the last time she ate or last time she moved from her curled up position in the dark room. Hearing commotion in the streets early one morning stirred her, abruptly waking her once again to her desolate life. Picking herself up she wondered to the window, she observed people as they slowly trickled into view and began to clean up the mess that littered the street. Small groups split off into each building as they investigated and gathered up the pieces of their own life. Making her way into the bathroom she looked into the shattered glass mirror that hung on the wall to reveal white hair covered her head. Taking ahold of her hair in her fingers it took a moment to sink in, her previously coloured locks had morphed into a thick smokey white. Continuing to study herself in the mirror she could no longer meet her own gaze, as her eyes had become lifeless and void. Glancing into the deep brown, incited memories of her past life when she used to glow and shine brightly.

Loathing the image that existed before her she turned away heavily, determined to continue onto the path of darkness and solitude until she withered away. Before she could make a move towards her small safe haven of life she noticed package on the floor, picking it up as it were one of the last physical connections to her past. A small pack of coloured contacts left undamaged unlike the rest of the contents of the room, used by her friend since before she met them. Coercing open a holding cell for the contacts, she reached in gently one at a time applying each contact with difficulty. Eyes slightly sore from the actions she slowly turned towards the broken mirror, unknown to what she would see until she met the familiar gaze. Although Uube didn't resemble her friend especially after her worldly despair, the eyes she gazed into projected themselves as though her friend stood before her, prior to the darkness and sorrow. Soft blue, gentle as a Himalayan poppy and deep as an endless ocean sea. Only being able to maintain the stare for a few moments she turned away as her eyes began to tear, though the comfort she felt was something she had all but forgotten. Contact with something so familiar it beat life into her heart, which she had not experienced for a time.  As the fresh breath of life coursed through her she remembered a few of her worldly contracts; hunger and thirst, scrounging through what was left in her abused home she managed to find enough to stave off the pain for the night. Moving into her bedroom she flopped weakly under the window and gazed into the night sky with the glittering lights of stars, letting her body settle into the warmth that flowed through her. Watching the night sky glide by she remained restless, her constant thoughts kept her from her slumber and with a sigh she lifted herself up and decided to go to the local 24/7 Ga5 store to gather resources for the days to come. Unmotivated to change out of the clothes she'd worn since making it home, she settled to venture out into the night in her favorite blue pajama tracksuit pants ironically patterned with smiley faces and black San Paro College letterman hoodie.

Standing at the front door she steadied her breathing, looking upon the door to the outside never seemed so heavy, the door towered before her boasting authority between the unknown and safety she had shut herself in. Even though she was uncertain of what she would experience once she took the step outside she grasped the handle anyway, firmly and slowly pushed herself out into the city she thought she once knew. Peaceful and quiet was an unexpected event for a city that was not long ago thrown into the abyss of chaos. Before leaving the doorway, she held the door open and looked around to see the emptiness of the streets that populated her block. Thin mist and lonely street lights were the only objects populating the dark streets, she could faintly notice thicker clouds gathering above, partly covering the twinkle of the starry sky. A crisp breeze whisked through the street which caused her to shiver, adjusting her hoodie she shook off the cold and began to make her way through the gloomy city.

All she could hear as she traveled down the quiet street was the sounds of the gentle breeze rustling the trees and her footsteps on the cold pavement. Traffic lights continued their rounds as she passed an empty t-junction, their lights changing aimlessly for traffic that wouldn't come. Across the street in her peripheral vision she turned to see shadowy figures emerge from the light of the street corner, three figures huddled together as they traveled parallel to her. Shortly after she noticed them the smaller of the three figures yelled as he sprinted across the street to her while the two others followed slowly behind. "Hey! Blood Rose or G-King?" Scuffed the small man in his long leather jacket. Options Uube had never heard of, as she gave the little man a confused look and shook her head. "Ah I see, well consider yourself lucky we found you first. We're taking over this dump of a city." Pronounced the guy as he pulled open his jacket to reveal two chrome plated Colby.45 handguns strapped to his sides, "Blood Rose" was stylishly printed on his shirt behind them.

As he showed off his trophies, another muscled guy jogged towards the group and only made one comment: "G-Kings ahead".
"Want to make a difference in this city tonight? Follow us and remember, Blood Rose." Boasted the small scruffy guy as he handed Uube one of his Colby.45 handguns and took off with the other three burly men in a hurried pace. Still confused from the exchange that took place Uube held her gun flat in her palm and watched as the four men made their way down the street towards the Ga5 station she was headed for. Before they got out of earshot she heard one of them laugh as he said "Hahaha, finally we can make this crappy city ours, that prison break was just what we needed to get started!". At that moment she understood the situation, the criminals that broke out and disappeared finally made their reappearance as their own organizations trying to take control of everything for their own gain. Thoughts of thugs taking control of the city by force and destruction like that night that caused her so much pain, flooded her mind. She gripped her gun tighter, feeling its heavy weight as she followed the Blood Rose members to their inevitable battleground.

Lights from the illuminated gas station could be seen as she approached, a large group of people were huddled in a circle near the gas station, four of which she recognized as the Blood Rose members from moments ago. Keeping her distance she couldn't over hear the conversation but could see the angst in their movements as they argued, their bodies physically signing their conversation to her. Exchanging gestures as they drew closer to each other eventually clashing their heads together softly; ceasing all physical actions and creating a short intimate moment before the BloodRose members drew their guns in a flash, taking an offensive stance towards the G-King's while their leaders remained unbudged. With the G-Kings clearly unprepared for the BloodRoses actions they froze in place helplessly aware of their dangerous situation, awaiting the next move. Taking a few steps back the BloodRose leader kept his arms outstretched as he signaled to his gang to lower their weapons. Making a few more large arm gestures he moved back towards the G-King leader once again. Approaching his adversary he lowered his arms as he entered the fray; close enough to smell the stink of his enemies breath but there were no gestures or movements at all. He took one slow, gradual step, away from his opposition; firing his gun.

Echoing into the night the hidden gunshot signaled the start of their life and death grudge match, where not even winners could walk away alive. Guns were drawn at full speed by both parties unleashing their firepower in rapid succession, taking no prisoners they brawled with no mercy as the G-Kings lost another member seconds after their leader.  Immediately after the G-Kings first loss they responded with one of their own deadly blows, taking out a BloodRose member as he fled to cover, leaving him to fall onto the curb heavily. Shots continued to explode through the air as the remaining fight lasted less than a minute resulting in the G-Kings group spread out across the gas station in pools of their own blood, lifeless and mutilated. BloodRose members, not without their own wounds, gathered to assess themselves as the victors of the nights deadly entertainment.

Conversing amongst themselves the roughed up BloodRose leader stopped their discussion momentarily to turn towards Uube, who was still huddled behind cover clutching her gun and he ushered her to join them in their victory.  Walking closer the leader exclaimed "Did you see that little girl? That's the power of the BloodRoses, there will be more to come and no one will stop us!" The other members let out their hefty laughs throwing their heads back towards the moon like wolves. Uube could no longer hold her frustration so she forced her gaze towards the ground and let their menacing laughs pound her head, convincing her that evil was the only thing that succeeded in the world. Looking up with glare and hatred in her eyes she took action, forcing her gun to the skull of the BloodRose member in front of her and pulling the trigger, sending his body backwards. Before the others could react she swiftly whipped her hand to her right and squeezed the trigger, firing the next bullet into the face of another BloodRose member, sending him limp on the spot collapsing on himself. Performing the final blow of her revenge she turned the recoil from the last shot into a gut punch of the small disgusting leader, winding him as she also blasted a shot through his torso.

With his eyes wide open from shock, the leader stared at Uube in disbelief as he slowly lowered himself to his knees clutching his stomach. Letting out a groan of pain he yelled at her, "What the fuck!?....Do you know who we are? You've gotten yourself in some real shit now girl....We're going to ruin your life!". Locking eyes with the defeated man Uube could not contain the death within her gaze, like a wall about to collapse without mercy. "What do you think you can do against us!?" Argued the demoted leader.
"Make a difference" she ushered softly, abandoning all emotion in her voice as she lifted her gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

Exhausted and mentally drained she turned her attention to the return of the quiet night, clouded starry sky still twinkled above with the crisp cold breeze that had retained its hold on the dimly lit city. Returning home she immersed herself into the last moments of the night, as she lay on the ground below her bedroom window wandering into the murky sky she gently dozed off to sleep to the sounds she adored.

 http://rainymood.com/watch?v=Nebl8ZA-XS0

 
 

 

Edited June 16, 2018 by UubeNubeh DaWog

[Kewlin 692]

15 minutes ago, UubeNubeh DaWog said:

~snip~

Thanks for re-posting your story from the old thread! I remember liking it a lot, and I'mma re-read it, but it's like 4 thousand words, so it might take me a bit!  XD

[UubeNubeh DaWog 136]

5 minutes ago, Kewlin said:

Thanks for re-posting your story from the old thread! I remember liking it a lot, and I'mma re-read it, but it's like 4 thousand words, so it might take me a bit!  XD

Tell me about it, it took a hell of a time to write aswell but the ideas kept coming once it started.

[S00THSAYER 11]

Character Name: Soothsayer

 

 

Story Title: The Ghost of Gresty (rewrote it because why tf not)

 

Additional information

 

 

Faction: Criminal

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Height: 5'9"

Weight: 165

Hair Color: Dyed White (originally black)

Eye Color: White Contacts (originally brown)

Race: Latino

+Additional optional information

Led a small gang in the early years of the CSA

(Occasionally) won't kill someone if they don't have a fighting chance

Likes muscle cars, Double B, and murder (not necessarily in that order)
 

 

 

Story

 

 

It starts with a young man. We’ll call him “Cal”.

 

Cal was a good kid. He was smart, even when he wasn’t trying to be. The kid had potential. He came from a working class family that taught him all the right ways to be a decent person growing up: be honest, be respectful, be just. He was on the straight and narrow.

 

Cal’s father was a cop before the CSA hit the streets. A real “by-the-books” character with a heart of gold type. He worked hard to protect his family, and even harder to put Cal through college preparatory school so his future wouldn’t be working on the Gresty streets for the rest of his life. Maybe a nice place up north, away from liquor stores and thugs. Some place safe,  without neon signs or caution tape to guide his way down the sidewalk.

 

Things began to change when Derren took office. Cal’s dad began to talk about a shift in personalities on the force. Men and women he had locked up over his 15 years of service were suddenly handed badges and “swearing oaths” to protect their fellow lawmen. It was dangerous times. He feels a storm coming. Dad turns to religion. Hopes someone out there might protect him and his family from the evils of the wicked city. Prayers before he goes to work, prayers before he goes to sleep. Dad says God is out there listening to him, answering his prayers. Cal believes him, or at least he wants to. Maybe god doesn't want to talk. Or maybe he's the wrong god.

 

Winter of 2009. That’s when it all comes to a head.

It starts with a crash. There's a ruckus going on at the front door. Dad goes to check it out. Leaves Cal to protect his mother. Soon enough there’s a struggle going on down the hall, but that isn’t what Cal is worried about. A brick shatters the window of the room he’s holed up in and catches Cal in the eye. He feels a surge of pain and heat as his face splits from forehead to cheek. Shots ring out from down the hall. Screams of pain and shock. Shadows flood the room, too many to make out, and hauling his dad in tow. Cal only sees what little he can, yet what it mattered most: badges and colors, representing all kinds of gangs and organizations in this room. His dad bleeds from a wound to the side, praying for help from anyone who’d listen.

 

“Pray harder, puto. Maybe there's a god out there who will listen,” a badged woman in the front mutters through her bandana. They proceed to beat Cal senseless while his parents watch in pain and horror. Then Cal watches helplessly as the mob assault and stabs his mom like a vicious pack of animals. They must have noticed Dad on his last few breaths. They waste no time pouring the gas out on him, they take pleasure in setting him ablaze.

 

They leave Cal to burn alive amidst the blood of his mother and the cries of his father.

 

Cal's last thoughts were a torrent of pain, anger, grief and above all else, prayer. He prayed that perhaps a different god might help him. He bartered his last few breaths for a chance to get back at the people who killed everything he knew.

 

But he never got the chance to see if his prayers were answered.

 

Cal died on the floor that night. He was a good kid. Smart, even when he wasn’t trying to be.

 

Whoever woke up in the hospital two weeks later wasn’t Cal. Cal didn’t have scars. Cal didn’t feel rage, he didn't harbor any bad intentions or think horrid thoughts. Cal wasn’t cold or heartless or hateful. Cal was a decent person: honest, respectful…. just.

 

This person didn't answer to that name. He didn't know a Cal.

 

Cal would never harm another person. Cal would never stab a doctor during a routine check up, or bolt out of a hospital with someone else's blood on his lips. Cal wouldn't steal a car, hold up a liquor store, attack without provocation or end several small gangs and corrupted cops in the inner Gresty area in the largest four night bloodbath to ever be stricken from the San Paro papers.

 

But this person would. He would do all of it again if he had the chance to.

 

The investigation wasn't particularly deep. They knew the gangs involved in the killings, same ones said to have murdered Cal's family just months ago. They knew about the runaway survivor with severe mental trauma linked to the events. They knew his last remaining family fled the city, their friends had jumped ship, died or helped murder the family. They knew everything except how to find him. So the killing continued. The streets ran red, the skies turned to ash and the sirens never seemed to stop. The borough was a both battlefield and a mass grave.

 

After a while people caught word of the person responsible. Called himself some bullshoot like a "prophet of death". A soothsayer of souls. Citizens didn't seem to believe there was a maniac prowling the streets at night. Or at least they didn't want to provoke him. But the ones who did believe in the stories mocked him. They don't believe ghost stories.

 

A little warning for the non-believers.

 

If you see a shadow on the wall, or hear a noise that seems out of place. Run.

 

Fear the eyes that bore holes into your soul. Pray you don't see the mask of death.

 

Phantoms may not be real.

 

But beware the Ghost of Gresty.

 
 

 

Edited June 16, 2018 by S00THSAYER

[Kewlin 692]

11 minutes ago, S00THSAYER said:

~snip~

 

I love your story: it does a really cool job of describing a character's backstory and transformation in such a short piece. Thanks so much for reposting and even rewriting your story!

 

As a minor note though, I would like to note that you accidentally wrote "Gretsy" instead of "Gresty," unless Gretsy is supposed to be a different place from Gresty.

[Nevv 49]

Just for you, Kew bb

 

Throwing up a bit in my mouth reading over this 

 

Character Name: Byeon Bloodrose (Nokogiri/Noko)

 

Story Title: Splinter (?)

 

Additional Information:

 

 

Faction: G-Kings (Formerly Bloodroses)

 

Age: 24 (according to timeline)

Gender: Female

Height: 5.9 ft

Weight: 129 Lbs

Hair Color: Red, naturally Black

Eye Color: Red, naturally Dark Brown

Race: Korean

 

 

Story:

 

 

Hidden away from the violence and drama that consumed her other male cousins, Byeon Bloodrose felt perfectly calm and [relatively] satisfied as she mulled over her latest assigned readings for her Psychology class. Being the more studious member of her family, she wasn’t the type that enjoyed limelight as much as Jeung, but certainly didn’t want to play second fiddle like that other, less successful cousin.

However, a glimmer of interest sparked within Byeon in the Bloodrose Scene when she caught wind of some Prentiss kid classmate and his friends getting popped in a café near her campus. She soon started doing a bunch of research on the mommystorm that was going down in San Paro while she was procrastinating for her next exam, having long chats with Jeung and eventually catching the attention of another well-informed citizen, Tyron Sennet. After operating a while under his tutelage, she learned about the figure who was really at the top of the Bloodrose food-chain: an old codger who was pulling strings on the two cousins and the rest of the clueless gang.

Resentment began to build, as she realized how much she was being ordered around by airheads like Charlotte, watching everyone get played by a man that’s halfway into his grave, and having to deal with the squawking wannabe voices of the other preschoolers within the group. All she really wanted now was freedom. 

G-Kings was the answer.

Hanging around the upper levels of Trespass, Byeon was bound to meet the hulking, ball of aggression that was Zombie. She was taught how to fight, how to win and most importantly, the independence that the G-kings provided.

A few months later, with a couple hundred missions under her belt and a bunch of new lively friends, she decided that it was time to take the fight to her old friend Michael himself and free her cousins from his influence. Dismantling the old man’s operations, cutting his resources and gathering intel; all the while skirmishing with her former allies under a new alias: Noko [giri], Japanese for saw, the type that cuts through deception and soon, Mr. Simeon’s jugular.

 

Edited June 16, 2018 by Nevv

[Kewlin 692]

4 minutes ago, Nevv said:

Just for you, Kew bb

 

Throwing up a bit in my mouth reading over this 

XD

 

Thanks, for what it's worth I think it's a fun story.

[S00THSAYER 11]

2 hours ago, Kewlin said:

 

I love your story: it does a really cool job of describing a character's backstory and transformation in such a short piece. Thanks so much for reposting and even rewriting your story!

 

As a minor note though, I would like to note that you accidentally wrote "Gretsy" instead of "Gresty," unless Gretsy is supposed to be a different place from Gresty.

Good catch, thanks dude. I made the same typo four times lol

[SixxstagesofMajik 6]

Character Name:  Goes by few different names
Story Title: The Story of the 6 stages of Majik

Faction:Crim/Enforcer

Age:Varies on which stage is active

Gender:Varies on which stage is active

Height:Varies on which stage is active

Weight:Varies on which stage is active

Hair Color:Varies on which stage is active

Eye Color:Varies on which stage is active

Race:Varies on which stage is active

 
 

 

The 1st stage of Majik is Competitiveness .When this stage is active he tends to be a criminal and other cells are active from his conglomerate. Once this stage becomes active it is full ready to kill mode and he will do and stop at nothing to accomplish the end goal of whatever assignment is given to him. This is one of the stages that do not want to run into tho if you do you know it will be a good time whether on his side or not.

The 2nd stage of Majik is Foolishness. This stage is activated when a intoxicant is involved in the mix it just auto-triggers this stage on, this happens more often on Fridays or Saturdays than more other days as those tend to be the party scene nights. Once she is in combat and you see her you know it will be all about the laughs and randomness arranging from unable to drive a car , aim just does not exist ,random things that make you go what did i just hear and then laugh. This stage is one the most fun to be around and tends to be a enforcer than a criminal.
 
The 3rd stage of Majik is Chieftain.This stage is not seen by many but known by the ones who do see it, when he is in this stage he is looking at ways to improve his conglomerate in different ways and trying to get more members inside while keeping others up to date on the news of the streets,  he also works on his own ideas on things that are good and bad for the future of the conglomerate as a whole, He will also make plans always a a desk writing down so much stuff , found many crumpled papers in the trash of maps showing locations , another of key concepts of being a insider. This stage is one that is tends to put in a lot of work and is the backbone of all the others, have you met this one this one is only a criminal?
That is all I could find out about the 6 stages only got 3 so far but I will keep tracking and following him to acquire more intelligence of the other 3 and shall share with you all.

The 4th stage of Majik is Darkness
See the mirror and it'll reflect the truth of who you are. It's not your reflection of you, but a glimpse of dark reality that exists on the other side; reflection is the truth and you are not. This is the factor of this stage in which is not seen often nor do many get to see it nor want to see it as it throws some dark thoughts at you.
I was in a alleyway heading back to my apartment near Suji's club to write this when out of the dark shadows of the night I heard
"Et iam non sum sanus , Perdidi me" 
A figure jumped out at me knocked me down and brandished a pistol to my face
"Like a puppet in hands of darkness , from the sanity of reality .Locked away in solitude, within this shadow I'll remain,
wrapped comfortably within insanity, with a shattered mind to blame"
He said I closed my eyes and re-open them and he was gone.
I have a feeling this stage is after me and knows I have been trying to uncover the mystery and power of Majik , now I must get some rest till next time.

Edited June 17, 2018 by SixxstagesofMajik

[Kewlin 692]

4 hours ago, SixxstagesofMajik said:

~snip~

Awesome, thanks for reposting! If you could add spoilers that'd be awesome.

[Koriyasa 4]

Just a heads up typed this all on mobile and haven’t written in months so remember that when you see something dumb just let me know as all criticism is encouraged and wanted, as I’m not done nore satisfied with what I have yet.

 

Additional Information:

 

 

Faction: Enforcer
Age:22?
Gender:M
Height:6’1”
Weight:174lb
Hair Color:Brown (died blue)
Eye Color:hazel (purple contacts)
Race: Hispanic
 

 

 

Story W.I.P:

 

  Koriyasa aka Kori his real name uknown in the streets of San Paro for good or for bad nobody knows and definitely won’t question.

 

  Growing up in the rough area of the Financial block apartments. Hungry and broke set alight his want for more and at his first attempt of 14 landed him in a slot in his local gang. For two years of heavy dealing, shootings, loss, and several hospital trips. He felt empty even with the minor reputation he held on his streets. Even the slugs couldn’t burn as bad as he felt having his mother seeing him live like this. Year later fell off with his crew and with another he was on a plane miles away. Four years later he spent rebuilding and filling his life with something he really needed most, family. Sure he toted weapons but instead of scarred N-tecs and snubbed Colby’s, he carried his Atac with discipline and pride. With constant care and awareness of what he truly held in his hand and what responsibilities and duties he signed up for. For once the enemy he was destroying wasn’t those only trying to survive. Something new he felt towards his first year of serving he never felt before, it was peace in mind knowing he made his family proud. But as much as he was at peace with himself San Paro was getting worse by the hour, and by the end of his contract he’d return home. 

 

  He felt like he gave the world his all, but not for San Paro and wondered how he could give back. He went to the SPPD and saw a man in orange sporting what looked like “Prentiss Tiger” on him while wielding an Agrotech DMR-SD. In that same station he also saw a sign with the phrase “CSA today to ensure a safer San Paro tomorrow”. With prior service they didn’t question to give him a badge and a gun. On his way up in Prentiss Tigers he’d realise being a CSA enforcer felt nothing more like a gang but with more flash from jewelry than FBW’s and Joker Carbines. Working up this ladder of high class heroes he ran across that same man from the SPPD station knowing him vaguely by the name of “Devil Dog”. After a few talks for several weeks from working under his wings he felt something different from Devil Dog that the other Prentisses. Purpose and discipline. Something to makr clear of they’re not friends just business associates that both profit from slaying crims.

 

 To them both it isn’t jewels that brought about CSA it was innocent bloodshed. The more they both stayed focused on that they could never stray from that goal of bringing justic back to San Paro, even as much as Mirri Kent tries to make some poster boys of them both. They knew what it would really take to save San Paro and it definitely wouldn’t be a six hour photoshoot. As much as Koriyasa spends his time down in Financial shooting things up proper and always giving back some proceeds to people that need it. One thing that has never changed is his quiet addiction to freshest designer could get, and domestic tuner’s with more money probably spent on the kit than there’s put into the engine.

 

Edited June 20, 2018 by Koriyasa
Finished up the story a bit and did some minor edits that hopefully sound better 20180619

[Kewlin 692]

1 hour ago, Koriyasa said:

Just a heads up typed this all on mobile and haven’t written in months so remember that when you see something dumb just let me know as all criticism is encouraged and wanted, as I’m not done nore satisfied with what I have yet.

 

I think it's pretty good so far, clean up the writing and fill in some more and it'll be a good story I think.

[SixxstagesofMajik 6]

17 hours ago, Kewlin said:

Awesome, thanks for reposting! If you could add spoilers that'd be awesome.

spoilers are spoiled on

[TacticallyRed 49]

Story Title: Blood Stained Money

 

 

Name: Scarlett Wiltshire

Nickname: Red


Faction: Criminal(?)

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Height: 5’7

Weight: 149 lbs

Hair Color: Red

Eye Color: Red

Race: Caucasian  
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the chaotic civil war of a City known as San Paro, things get messy, in many different ways. From the destruction of property to cars exploding on the street and the bits of people that are sent flying, it all has to be cleaned up. Someone has to do it, even if it could be considered illegal by whatever law, even if its work for horrible people like the annoying and loud kids of the bloodroses or the G-King’s thugs. They’re usually too busy playing loud music in their car and trying to run away with their saggy pants falling off of them because it's being dragged down by the stolen goods of a man they just shot. His blood splattered on a nearby wall, his body riddled with an uncountable number of holes from the being sprayed down by a N-FA9. The criminals are too busy trying to get out of there before they’re spotted, but, they know they can’t just leave the body there with all the bullets around it. This is where Scarlett, or, known to the Criminals simply as “Red” comes in. She often spends most of her time in a little hideout, browsing the web until she gets a call about things like this.

 

Red’s jobs often involves her cleaning up the messes left behind by the thugs of the G-Kings and Bloodroses. It certainly isn’t an easy nor sanitary job, sometimes it can be outright dangerous with the risk of getting caught being a completely random factor. Red often goes in alone and if she’s unlucky enough to be caught by Enforcers or a rival gang, she knows her job got a lot harder. But she knows someone has to do this, it’s good money as criminals are willing to pay good cash in order for Red to keep the Enforcers off their asses or to least slow them down in their investigations. The money is the only thing keeping her on the side of the criminals, she knows the CSA and it’s Enforcers might be willing to cut some corners to have her on their side with her knowledge of who did what crimes. However, Red prefers the illegal side of things because of the rush she originally got from her first crime, where, a need for money and to satisfy her sweet tooth led her to rob and shoot a man in order to buy several boxes of chocolate bars. She was almost caught because of her failure to properly dispose of the body, this lead her to her current profession. She couldn’t give up the rush of committing crimes yet wanted to stay in the shadows of it, becoming a Fixer allowed her to do such. It kept her in the know of the underworld, it helped her pay for what she desired, it got her connections with powerful people and access to some pretty fun firearms. Red knew she was falling into a dark pit that she couldn’t climb out of, should she ever be caught. But she didn’t care, it was a job that paid well even if it was bloody. She couldn’t rely on family, she couldn’t just go get a degree, this was the only option she had that she enjoyed.


 

But the biggest benefit of it, was the fact she had some degree of protection from other criminals or whoever wanted to toy with her. The countless clean up jobs she’s been on, the bullets that sometimes graze past her head, all the conversations about deals, people, and weapon shipments has allowed her to gather tons of information regarding the criminal world, even some information on the CSA’s more corrupt sides. She keeps most of it on a laptop with several USBs and a copy of data on her phone as backup. So, if someone she doesn’t particularly like...such as any of the Bloodroses’ brats is causing her trouble, or if she wants to ensure a client holds up their side of the deal, Red has the powers to utilize the information she’s gathered against them to make sure she gets paid or to get rid of them.


 

But, if Information isn’t enough to get her away, to get rid of someone, to keep the Enforcers off her patootie or if she has to ensure eye-witnesses don’t blabber, Red isn’t afraid to clean up her own messes. Even if it means picking up the chunks of some poor fool that met the wrong end of her EOL and Colby .45.


 

But if  there’s anything she’s learned from her twenty-three years of doing this, it’s that you can see some really messed up shit on these type of jobs. Red  claims to have learned about hundred-fifty ways of remove blood from a carpet alone based on the five-hundred more ways she’s seen how people died. To Red, this job has let her see how truly dark the citizens of san paro can be and that wearing black is the best way to keep bloodstains hidden.
 

 

 

 

Edited January 24, 2019 by TacticallyRed