The Letifer Organization
Posted 22 August 2008 - 03:30 PM Edited by Angelo Leone, 22 August 2008 - 03:42 PM.
Posted 22 August 2008 - 05:09 PM
|QUOTE (Angelo Leone @ Aug 22 2008, 15:30)|
|I'll take the hit on Linda and Darrion Whitley.|
And with that, it's enforcing me to write more targets on the way.
Posted 22 August 2008 - 05:30 PM
|QUOTE (Wanted Assailant @ Aug 22 2008, 13:09)|
And with that, it's enforcing me to write more targets on the way.
I went to write my character this morning and nothing was available that I seen.
Posted 22 August 2008 - 05:58 PM
The next morning, follwoing a night of passionate and kinky lovemaking, Ayame and I were woke up by the sound of the Indiana Jones theme coming from my cellphone. I picked it up and answered it.
A mysterious and rather creepy voice said "This is Reached Mind, I'm a aquaintace of Copperfield. I have a job for you involving two junkies. Meet me in the parking lot of your apartment. Get down here within the hour."
I pulled my member out of Ayame's cute round butt. Her pregnancy barred traditional sex, so she decided to be attacked from the rear. I got out of bed and got dressed in a T-Shirt, jeans, and some underwear. I found out they were Ayame's panties, but it was dark, I had a job to do, and frankly I had no time to change back into my underwear.
Ayame sat up, revealing her beautiful and naked body. She said "Where are you going? Do I have to come?"
As I focused on her voluptuous breasts I said "No, this is just a job concerning me and a friend of Copperfield. You get some sleep, you and the baby need it."
Ayame then pulled the covers over her and lay back down. After combing my hair and putting on some cologne, I descended down the elevator of the apartment complex, the music was an elevator music version of Mozart's "Lacrimosa", arguably the most famous part of his infamous requiem. I had my Browning HP and a clip of ammo in my pants.
There, in the parking lot, was a man, suprisingly clean for a hobo, wearing jeans, a white t-shirt, a gray flannel over-shirt, and a ball cap. He said "I am Reached Minds, and I am a heroin dealer for La Eme, the Latino street gang. Now, I know you are in our rivals, the Russian Mafiya, but this job is in no way detrimental to your organization. I only know of you and Copperfield through spying. Yesterday, some of our gangbangers and our close associate James Walsh were killed in a trainyard and tons of heroin and my batch of needles were left lying by the tracks. Then, a few hours later, after they were killed but before the cops came, a couple, married junkies, if you will, came and stole the heroin and needles. I want you to go down to the alley on Pine Street, shoot them, and bring the junk back to me. Here's a silencer."
He handed me the silencer and I attached it to the gun. Driving down, I had the radio turned off so no one would know my presence. It was 2:00 AM, so most everyone was asleep.
And in the corner of the brick-walls of the alley, lay two people, a young man and a young woman sitting down, slouched over the trash cans, mainlining. I was disgusted by these ragged freaks, so I pulled my gun out and entered the dim light of a nearby blinded window.
I thought to myself "Can I trust Reached Mind? Is he gonna betray me? What if he rats me out? He isn't in the Italian or Russian Mob syndicates here, so I cannot trust him."
I aimed at the junkies and fired, shooting them both in the head, killing them. One of them flew back and knocked over the trash can. They were junkies, nothing big to me. Next to their bloody corpses was a pile of heroin, much smaller than the boxes and bags in the trainyard. I grabbed the heroin bags and noticed a half-full can of spray paint in the trash pile. There I took the can and sprayed gang tags. One said in bold capital letters "LA EME 4 LIFE" and the other said "MARA SALVATRUTCHA 13", referring to La Eme's offspring gang and close ally, the MS13. So when the cops found the body, they would blame my enemies.
I drove back and gave the heroin to Reached Minds.
"Good job, I'll talk to you later."
"I'm sure you will."
With the evidence steered against him, I took the elevator and went back to my apartment. There was Ayame, still asleep,the covers partially off to reveal her back, legs, and sexy butt, the crack of which still had some of my sperm on it. I showered and dried off, going back to bed naked as when I was awakened.
Posted 22 August 2008 - 10:31 PM
Regarding Cubanwhip's, I agree with Vercetti; there was far too much narrative dictation going on and it really weighed it down. I also didn't like the reference to pop culture with the whole Signs thing about Bloc Party. **
I look forward to seeing some good new targets go up so I can take em out.
** OT addressed to Cubanwhip: So, a Bloc Party fan I assume? What do you think of the new album? I'm not into it much just yet, although I'll admit some of it is growing on me. At first listen, I despised Mercury, but now it seems to be getting catchier and catchier! Ares has grown on me too. My pick of the bunch is One Month Off, though, quite like that one.
Posted 22 August 2008 - 11:51 PM
|QUOTE (Eminence @ Aug 22 2008, 18:31)|
|** OT addressed to Cubanwhip: So, a Bloc Party fan I assume? What do you think of the new album? I'm not into it much just yet, although I'll admit some of it is growing on me. At first listen, I despised Mercury, but now it seems to be getting catchier and catchier! Ares has grown on me too. My pick of the bunch is One Month Off, though, quite like that one.|
Actually, it's not as bad as AWTC. It's annoying at first, but if you give it time, it really grows on you. I love Halo and Ion Square, completely different, but they remind me of Helicopter and Blue Light respectively from Silent Alarm. I was put off at first with Mercury, but I gave it a chance and it grew on me slowly, but it grew on me. I have to give Ares a chance though.
On Topic: Yeah, I have a habit of dictating what goes on, which may just be my own downfall if anything. I'm trying to work on it, but it's just a natural thing I do, and if I learn to minimize it, then I can actually move forward in writing.
Posted 23 August 2008 - 01:37 AM
|QUOTE (Oblivionz @ Aug 22 2008, 17:30)|
|I went to write my character this morning and nothing was available that I seen.|
Is that coming along nicely now, or? <3
Posted 23 August 2008 - 01:55 AM
A pager, cast aside on a rickety table, started to issue a serious of loud, disturbing beeps. The figure laying amass mismatched blankets reached out to disable the noise, causing Russian Vodka to stain the floor, and the lamp's light bulb to shatter like ice, onto the rough carpet. Alex barely had time to read the message before he fell asleep. "There's an opportunity to make some quick cash, Silver Dream" flashed across the grey scale screen.
What might have been minutes, hours or days, Alex arose from his slumber. Placing his feet upon the carpet, he let out a gasp of pain as blood escaped him. "Damn Vodka" he though. Pulling on a pair of faded, denim jeans, a formal t-shirt and plain sneakers, Alex snatched his car keys up from the table, and proceeded out of the door.
"F**king teenage pranksters" muttered Alex; His car was a twisted, mangled piece of metal, sitting in a Sahara of ash. In other words, It had been torched. It started to rain as Alex hailed a simple yellow taxi from the road. "Where you goin' mang" questioned the driver; He was most likely Jamaican. "Silver Dream" I said. He put his foot down, ready for a trip across town.
Half way across, I noticed the price meter read "$35". There was no way I was going to pay that. "Do you know why knives's are the best weapon?" I questioned the driver. "N-no" he stuttered. "Because they're easy to hide" I replied, and with that, in one fluid motion I flicked the concealed penknife from my shirt cuff, and ended the poor old man's life. I forced my way into the drivers seat, and set off again.
Half an hour later, I arrived at Silver Dream: No doubt the best club in town. I nervously entered...
Posted 23 August 2008 - 01:57 AM Edited by ~PhusioN~, 23 August 2008 - 04:12 AM.
Experience: Fought as a mercenary in South America, highly feared between armies and is known to fight for the highest bidder.
I lit up the cigarette and the sensation of nicotine and other chemicals inhabited my lungs. My leather jacket swayed slowly in the wind as I let the smoke escape my mouth and fly away. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts to pass the time; my target would be here soon.
A black car pulled up across the street and a large man got out, he was decked out in a black singlet and long cargo pants and some sweet Nike hightops. I threw away the cigarette butt and walked across the road close to him, he was talking into his phone.
"Yeah, I'm early." He listened into the phone for a bit longer, then hung up. He looked at me, then shook his head and walked down an alleyway.
I walked down the block to a well-known brothel and kicked the door down, the watch-lady inside went to yell at me but I pulled out my Colt and pointed it at her; "Take me to the back." I warned the bitch as she walked me through the sin-infested place. Cocaine and blowjobs left an un-holy stench on the place, but I wasn't one to really care. I'd be back here later tonight to celebrate.
She led me to the back alley, I thanked her and then jumped a fence. I ran and latched myself onto a fire escape ladder and pulled myself up.
When I was up on the metal verandah, my target was still standing in the alleyway alone. He pulled out his phone, but just as that happened a white SUV sped down the alley and screeched to a halt. Two men got out.
I pulled my scope out from my jacket and attached it to the pistol, I took aim.
Three dead drug dealers later, I went back to the brothel and f*cked the night away.
Posted 23 August 2008 - 02:10 AM
|QUOTE (Exfernis @ Aug 23 2008, 02:01)|
|Could someone tell me what's up with BB tags?|
Apparently someone found some bugs in them, so they've taken them offline until the whole sh*t is fixed,
Posted 23 August 2008 - 02:25 AM
I also can't update anything as of now. Once this is all over and fixed, everything will be updated ASAP if not immediately.
Posted 23 August 2008 - 03:05 PM
I will be going on a holiday vacation trip tomorrow evening, and this means I won't be here to moderate and update the topic. I should of pre-planned about the release of The Letifer Organization, but I thought by the time I get back from the trip, my inspiration would of been all ready lost. I became hasty and panicked, and slammed the dreaded 'New Topic' button. Without me being here, for about a good month, I think it's safe to say the topic either dies or gets locked until I can come back. Unless, someone is capable of running it while I am gone. You must understand the coding, which I won't touch as of now because of the BBCode disability. I will probably send you on how to run the topic if anyone is willingly to take my spot. I guess it's either let this topic live, or have this topic locked until I can come back surprisingly to revive it.
Posted 23 August 2008 - 03:08 PM
That being said, hope you have a good time on vacation.
Posted 23 August 2008 - 03:12 PM
|QUOTE (Oxidizer @ Aug 23 2008, 15:08)|
| I'd say that was good timing actually, given the hacking or whatever's gone on. Though this should be left unlocked so people can still make progress with their characters etc. - it can all be added to the index at a later date.|
That being said, hope you have a good time on vacation.
Why thank you, but I have fear that I will have a truckload of work to do when I come back..
Posted 23 August 2008 - 03:35 PM
Posted 23 August 2008 - 03:49 PM
By any chance was this based on the move Wanted?
Posted 23 August 2008 - 04:44 PM
|QUOTE (Exfernis @ Aug 23 2008, 15:49)|
| I could write up some targets if you desire, I'm always here to help =]|
By any chance was this based on the move Wanted?
A lot of people seem to reference that movie here in WD. Nope, wasn't really based upon it.
Yes, everyone should throw in their cents of targets in order for the place to progress well. I have a good amount of targets I created, but I didn't feel like adding them to the list due to the "problem." Everyone may place their created targets here, even though I think we should wait until the code to be back up. If by tomorrow the BBCodes isn't back up, I will post them regularly here.
Eminence, you seem to know the coding from your own theory, so I guess the job is gonna be up to you from now on. Nothing hard, add/update things on the target list, Assassin Disposal, the database and whenever someone makes a purchase on the Black Market. Keep in mind, those tables were made from the GTAF Table Generator. I could import the codes over, and you can edit it if you have the Generator installed.
The Letifer Organization is still throughout it's baby stage, so new ideas planted here won't be a surprise when I return. Just make sure the strict background and meaning behind TLO stays.
Posted 23 August 2008 - 04:47 PM
Posted 23 August 2008 - 04:52 PM
I only suggested the generator because the mishaps and breaks that could happen if you do it by hand. I guess now it's time to be able to control the power edit the front.
Posted 24 August 2008 - 12:44 PM Edited by mark-2007, 24 August 2008 - 01:48 PM.
I pace up and down the lobby of my apartment block, waiting impatiently for the elevator to make its way down to the ground floor. My heels thud against the marble, echoing around the deserted hall. It is midnight, and very few people are awake in the block. Those who are are most likely indulging themselves in acts which wouldn’t be interrupted by the mere sound of footsteps.
I was born in East Berlin, on a cold winter’s night, I recall my mother telling me, in 1961. My father disappeared when I was twelve, the local authorities said he had run away, but we knew better. He’d been silenced by the Stasi for speaking out against the East German government of the time and his body had never been found. My mother never really got over that, and she died of lung cancer when I was fifteen, thanks to her lifelong smoking habit, one of the less fortunate of traits I’d inherited from her.
The elevator lands on the ground floor with a gentle bump and the doors slide open. As I had thought and hoped, it is empty. I punch my floor number, level seven, and wait for the bell to jangle faintly, signalling to the doors to close and the lift to begin it’s ascent of the apartment block.
After my mother’s funeral, I was bundled into an orphanage and remained there until I was eighteen and legal age for full-time work. Those three years were amongst the worst of my life. The orphanage was a small, cramped place kept under the strict control of Herr Schulze. He would regularly beat me and the other boys at the orphanage. So much so that, upon turning eighteen and being once more left without a carer, I was glad. I may have been young, poorly educated and homeless, but I no longer had to endure the gruelling abuse from Herr Schulze.
The lift doors glide open once more and I step out into the hazy corridors of the seventh floor. Fumbling with my keys, I march along to room 714. My apartment is empty as I push the key into the lock, turn it, and enter. I flick on the lights and hang up my overcoat on a hook nailed to the back of my door. A few scraps of last night’s dinner lie messily on a plate on the kitchen counter. I scoop them up and into the bin before heading to the freezer to get a microwave meal. Burger and chips, five minutes on high power, I read. I set the timer and take a seat on my sleek, suede sofa.
After a year of homelessness, surviving on little more than scraps of food I could find in bins. My smoking habit had taken up what little money I managed to beg and steal, even managing to eat the butts of them for what little they did to quench my hunger. I remember seeing the American lifestyle on the big screen, when I managed to sneak into the cinemas once. From then on, I began to plan with a few of the other the street wanderers to cross the border into West Berlin.
Ding! The microwave’s timer hits zero and I load a plate full of the cheap food. I wolf down the flaccid burger and stale, tasteless chips which my tongue greets with disdain and a forced swallow.
It happened one night, after countless failed attempts. I finally got out of that hellhole. 16th July 1980, that date is now forever engraved in my memory. After the collapse of the wall, I decided it was safe enough to leave Germany altogether without the fear of extradition back to the east. I arrived in the United States in 1992 full of excited plans for a new life. These hopes were soon dashed as I struggled to find employment. I found myself committing increasingly serious crimes just to stay alive; at first it was just pick-pocketing until I eventually arrived at home burglaries and hold-ups. It wasn’t long before I found myself the utmost of crimes for a price, murder. And I’d been at it since 1996.
I finish my bland meal and rinse the plate under the warm tap. A sound outside the doorway alerts my senses to somebody’s presence. The dim glow which is cast throughout the corridor and which peeks under the doorframe is interrupted. A silhouetted pair of feet appear in the thin shard of light outside. I hear a ruffling of paper and a brown envelope slides beneath the door. Footsteps sound away from my room and I pace over to the entrance to inspect the envelope. It’s slightly bigger than A4 in size and quite thick too. A crest is stamped upon it in black ink, bearing Latin words which I’ve never bothered myself to understand. I carefully prise it open and reach in to retrieve the papers. Across the top of the sheet inside is a header bearing the words “The Letifer Organisation”.
Just a sidenote. What's going on with setting contracts? I have a few ideas ready to set contracts for others to fulfill, but I don't want to set them if it means I have to pay out of my own pocket.
As far as I understand it at the moment, say I set up a hit and the target is a man called Alan Smith. He's a fairly high-profle guy so I set the reward price to $14,000. I'd have to pay $7,000 of this up to the writer who kills him? Who pays up the other half?
Posted 24 August 2008 - 05:04 PM
Yeah, we're finding it a bit harsh taking money out of your account for the other guy to take ahold of. Not official, but we're deciding that money will come from the organization itself, and probably not the contractor. When you set out a contract, you're gonna give half of the price to the one who obliges to do it. If he/she finishes the contract, he/she gets the other and last half. The first is for an assurance that the guy will comlete the hit. If the assassin accepts the contract, but doesn't complete, you'll get your money back and a small deduction will be applied to that hitman. Sadly, Eminence is gonna be
sorting this out once I leave.
Update: The BBCode is back, but the URL and image codes are disasbled for the moment, so I'm still paranoid to modify it as of now. The target database also includes images, so I may just have to sacrifice it. No worries.
Posted 25 August 2008 - 03:00 PM
Posted 25 August 2008 - 03:01 PM
Posted 26 August 2008 - 06:23 AM
|QUOTE (Masterkraft @ Aug 25 2008, 15:00)|
|This looks interesting but complicated. I'm so up for taking part, but I'll have to read the first post a fair bit to get my around all this first.|
Join in anyway. I don't even know what the hell this thing's all about and I did regardless.
Posted 26 August 2008 - 11:00 AM
|QUOTE (Exfernis @ Aug 25 2008, 15:01)|
|Angelo Leone, I'm waiting for your story response. It's been like what...four days now?|
He's been banned.
Posted 26 August 2008 - 09:21 PM
Oh, yes, I will post this weekend sometime, alrighty?
Posted 26 August 2008 - 09:23 PM
If it is, then I'll certainly start sending some in.
Posted 27 August 2008 - 03:48 AM
|QUOTE (mark-2007 @ Aug 26 2008, 16:23)|
| There needs to be more contracts. To be more contracts, there needs to be people other than staff to send them in. For that to happen, the rule about paying up half of the price if you set it needs to be written off.|
If it is, then I'll certainly start sending some in.
I think that's what was decided on, at least temporarily. Since Wanted Assailant will be gone on vacation, we need a way of keeping this alive while we are figuring out the rules and such.
Posted 27 August 2008 - 08:32 PM
A high-earning, Wall Street stockbroker, John O’Hanlon hails from rights here in Chicago. He’s booked time off work recently to spend time back in his hometown. Our client has asked for Mr. O’Hanlon to be killed, as she is entitled to a large sum of insurance money and inherits many of his possessions. It’s key to the insurance terms that Mr. O’Hanlon’s death is ruled an accident, so make it appear so. The price for the murder of this man is $8,000.
The band manager of the hugely successful Chronic Shock has fallen out of favour with a local Biker gang. After hiring them for security at a gig, as well as buying a large quantity of various drugs for the band and groupies, Stag has failed to cough up the money. After the band manager refused to take the Biker’s calls, and ignored all other attempts to contact him, they have given up and have decided that the cost of the hit is far less than the cost of their lost dignity. He should be landing in O’Hare International to promote the upcoming appearance of Chronic Shock at Lollapalooza. Since he is a fairly high-profile target, the Biker’s have decided to set a price tag of $17,000.
http://www.divadogthemovie.com/PressKit/jp...ic2%20Color.jpg (http://www.divadogth... Pic2 Color.jpg)
Mr. Howard is a financial adviser who lives in a hip, upmarket high-rise in North Park. His job means he takes the CTA Brown Line from Kimball south into Downtown, switching at LaSalle to the Orange Line, which he takes to Roosevelt, a three minute walk from his office. Due to a mix-up in papers, Mr. Howard has came into possession of some very delicate papers which belong to our client. These papers have the power to shake the political scene in Chicago, and it is judged to just be a matter of time before Mr. Howard sees the money-making possibility of getting them published. It’s in our clients best interests for Elliot Howard to be killed, and for these papers, which are no doubt kept on person at all times in his briefcase, to be handed into a safety deposit box in a bank in Downtown. The price on his head is $20,000.
Well, that's all. If they're okay, then I'll have a think through and post some more soon.
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