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BUYG: Build Up Your Gang IV

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Tyla
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#1951

Posted 21 September 2010 - 04:07 PM

Quick question for staff or Landstalker himself in relation to his name being pending (?) at Lucky Winkles Bar for the Irish; Does that mean he has claim to the spot seen as his introduction appeared in the ratings? Or he doesn't, as posts above say, and I could take it when I provide a story? Sorry to trouble you but it confuses me, though that doesn't seem to take a lot moto_whistle.gif

Slingaa
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#1952

Posted 26 September 2010 - 05:45 PM

I'm thinking about making a new version of this with new dedicated staff.

If I did would anyone join?

Tycek
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#1953

Posted 26 September 2010 - 06:22 PM

QUOTE (Slingaa @ Sep 26 2010, 19:45)
I'm thinking about making a new version of this with new dedicated staff.

If I did would anyone join?

I don't see any point in this, because you'll get the same movement as it is in this topic. There were five, six BUYSAG and only a few people wanted to participate in this kind of game. People are simply losing interest in this, because the game came out almost two and a half year ago.

Slingaa
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#1954

Posted 26 September 2010 - 07:05 PM

QUOTE (Tycek @ Sep 26 2010, 19:22)
QUOTE (Slingaa @ Sep 26 2010, 19:45)
I'm thinking about making a new version of this with new dedicated staff.

If I did would anyone join?

I don't see any point in this, because you'll get the same movement as it is in this topic. There were five, six BUYSAG and only a few people wanted to participate in this kind of game. People are simply losing interest in this, because the game came out almost two and a half year ago.

Fair enough mate, I suppose you're right.

But hopefully things will change when GTA V comes out.

Tyla
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#1955

Posted 26 September 2010 - 07:25 PM

And what exactly would be gained from another secondary version of this being opened? That it would be butchered several times over and turned into something ludicrous akin to how the San Andreas game has turned out? All efforts aside; that reboot was good at the start but has rapidly turned into something not worthy of participation.

Dedicated staff? What exactly is your idea of dedication? Frankly, I'd prefer the two active raters that take out the time when they have it, and give full, comprehensive reviews of what a participant has written and that I can trust. How many times was BUYSAG hacked in what, two months? Twice? Three times? The latest in the long line of versions ending due to the user who ran it being banned. Take a look at the ratings of Aragond and Maverick. Such the critique they provide gives the incentive to improve and correct where you have gone wrong. That appeals to me more than being passed on with a simple monetary amount and a few words of praise, and the fact it's hard to get constructive criticism such as that from anyone else, be it in BUYSAG or Writers' discussion. Besides, it isn't like they don't cater to the stories supplied, is it?

Yes, I know people like it active. Yes, they like it updated often and like to play it as more of a game than others, taking it seriously, aiming to get the most money and a massive story count but it isn't a full time occupation!

There's nothing stopping you participating here. Your well within your rights to post a story per day but so far you haven't written anything. You don't have to wait for them to swear you in to join the Albanians. Aragond has said so until he's presumably blue in the face. Just provide a story and it's yours, cosmetics will be altered later.

The best thing you can do is to write. There's nothing stopping this from having the activity that is so desired. The main "killer" here is the moaning. People are being given slack where it isn't warranted and it isn't helping. You wouldn't sell something from a negative viewpoint, would you?

***

I'm going to take the spot with the Irish, since Landstalker has changed accounts (is it in vogue this season?) Here is the first part of my prologue.

A thunderous roar from above shook the rotting frames of the window, the dead, once luminous eyes of the thick-bodied man stood behind the glass unfolded just in time to view of an exploding sheet of white crashing down from above. Derrick McReary just about tolerated the ferocious downpour that had rained down for several hours; he momentarily traced a droplet of rain water with his deep blues as it began a descent from the top of disintegrating wood and allowed himself be reminded of what his dear mother used to say to him as a child, that the dear Lord above was reliving his bladder of its contents. The memory provided a brief comfort and served to remind him that he still had a portion of innocence left in his being; his face quickly turned to a grimace and his eyes folded tight at the deafening boom of another explosion of thunder.

He hadn’t actually believed his ‘Ma and voided her claims as faux, though he was positively sure that the big man upstairs had pissed on him on many an occasion. His experiences, past and present, had robbed him of all idealism. His naivety quickly perished. The accomplice that feverishly separated Cocaine with a stolen fleeca at the table behind him had made sure of that.

Bucky Sligo’s thick moustache twitched above his mouth, cast in a smirk at the completion of his prepping. He rolled his head downwards towards one of the lines of pure white and inhaled the substance into his nostrils without hesitation. Flicking the residuum of the powder from his whiskers, he instantly began to feel its common effects that drew him back so devoutly. He shunned the tag of casual drug user with a cocky sense of pride; Pills, Cocaine, Heroin... he openly abused them all, often mixed with alcohol to form a vile concoction of dangerous proportion. The resulting effects of such a potion were monstrous and intoxication of this sort only served to make him increasingly volatile and heightened his propensity for violence. Not that his tone was ever polite in the first place.

“Get your miserable f*cking arse over here,” he beckoned at his aloof companion, growling in a deep Irish brogue, having wholesome confidence that he too would join him in indulging in such a vice as he had done many a time before. “Now be a good boy, ‘else mummy’s ‘gonna tan ‘yer hide.”

Such verbal exertions were common to leaving Bucky’s mouth, along with various demeaning put downs and tirades of expletives. But he could also turn on the charm. Exceptionally well. So well that he could allure several men to his hand and had managed to perform the feat numerous times in the past. His command over McReary stood as testament to this, having groomed the man’s credulous mind since the tender age of fifteen, through the seventies to the eighties and now to these bloody nineties on the attractive pretence that his cause was the right one and when any doubt was cast he was always quick to quash it. His hardcore motivation was never fully revealed and was constantly kept behind a mask, though the facade was starting to peel away in the eyes of his broken followers.

Derrick turned, rubbing his tired eyes with the knuckles of his forefingers. The shadows of the illuminations in the sky were still visible on the wooden floor through his blinks and he paused to glance at his right arm as he raised his head once again. His tickets to paradise via injection were visibly clear, and he was beginning to fear that this was a track that he couldn’t take back. But the Heroin numbed him. Sedated him. And it was so damn good. If it wasn’t the smack, it was the chop, and in a split second he wilfully succumbed to the getting his rush from the drug. Soon, the prominent pounding of his heart vibrating within his chest had convinced him what excellent gear this was and he dived in to divulge in more at the coercion of Sligo.

“Thought we left this weather back in England?” Derrick lamented, pacing to the window to seek new found enjoyment from the energetic light show that now seemed all the more appealing, “How’d you reckon Aiden’s doing?”

“Just fine. He’s a good lad. He knows what he’s doing.”

“Sure. But I was thinking, you know,” he paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts that were racing, moving too quickly to be properly processed. This was often the case, a quick thought. A bright idea. A lifelong dream. And though he stood in a house in Alderney, merely a few crossings from his birthplace in Dukes, Derrick had spent thirteen years of his life divided between England and Ireland, chasing his dream of finding peace in his home country. The same dream that had become disastrously perverted. But he yearned to go back and get close to it again. “We should go back and help him out.” he spoke out, voicing his opinion of leaving this place he viewed with such disdain once again.

“You know what I was thinking?” Bucky sighed, toying with his ear with his fingers as if he were a hungry hound, before moving the same motion to his nose, appearing notably irritated, Cocaine running riot throughout his veins.

Derrick looked on, devoid of answer.

“That you should shut the f*ck up and leave the planning to me.”

Solemness was cast over Derrick’s buzz at the thump of Bucky’s crashing fist on the table. He brushed it off with a heavy sigh, trying to cast disappointment from his mind. Bucky was often harsh with his blunt responses that were coordinated to be so; he couldn’t afford to let people out from under his thumb. They had to be kept in line. They had to be bought down to earth and have it drummed into them that they were following his cause, though even he was just another hardcore believer himself repeating the same process that was used on him at an early, impressionable age.

“But,” Bucky’s view averted upwards from the table and his hands flattened out, calmly peering into the doe-eyes of Derrick, seemingly having a glint to his gaze, a sparkle as though he were a prime time performer; he began to reveal the trick that was up his sleeve. “I’ve been hearing down the fruit markets that some dagos are throwing ‘emselves a card game tonight. High rollers, high stakes. We go in and relieve them ‘o their cash.”

Stunned by the revelation, and spurred on with the helping hand of Charlie snow, Derrick began to consider the proposal. He never much liked the mafia. He owed them money and they weren’t lax with their threats. They wouldn’t miss the money, and at this present point in his mindset they sure as sh*t deserved it; for being a bunch of guidos if nothing more. They had done nothing but kick the Irish while they were down in his eyes. They had encroached on the turf that his father manned in a rather brutal manner in Broker and Dukes, and that his father before him held, and so on. Purgatory, an area where the Irish were traditionally particularly prominent, was in fact where he had met the Italian man kind enough to lend him the ten thousand dollars in the first place. He had no idea of which family the man was aligned with, if any at all. All tracksuits looked the same to him, more so after ten pints. He could only imagine what they would be able to do with the rewards.

“For the cause?”

Bucky folded his arms. His thick forearms, bulging at the elbow creases akin to Popeye, were decorated devoutly with insignia for the cause, loyalty to the cause, memories of the cause, it was all about the cause and he had successfully convinced them this. A number of tattoos were also littered under his shirt; the tip of an AK47, several of which were donated to the Provisional IRA by the Libyans, was visible at the back of his neck, while the fighter depicted as holding it remained concealed. Unfalteringly, he announced his short, standard response without vacillation.

“For the cause.”

With those three words, all was settled. Bucky cemented Derrick’s participation; he would do the job. If he didn’t, he would be a traitor to the cause, and such a label was one that no man desired.

***

The engine stirred on quietly, the vehicle sitting lull and dormant. Bucky had bought the Maibatsu when the duo had arrived back in the US to secure some illicit weaponry, and for a paltry sum that was a great deal lower than the $39,995 the showrooms wanted for a fresh off the production line model. The sturdy Vincent sedan had since become his car of choice; respectable enough to blend in, yet capable of shaking off any unwanted attention should they attract any.

Sitting mute in the passenger seat, Derrick had feeling attention was just what they were going to attract. No Cocaine, no Heroin would ever rid his thoughts of his brother, Francis, who was actively pursuing the role of deputy commissioner of the LCPD, much to the dismay of Derrick, his brothers, and especially his father, who was struggling to maintain the fluctuating reputation of the McReary family name on the streets without having a son in the police department to add to his woes. He studied the shadows carefully, looking beyond the line of three luxury models parked up outside a small building on Luddite Row, with another sitting parked around the corner, illuminated in the lively night-time insignia of Fudz Diner. By dark, Lower Easton was empty; a baron and desolate concrete jungle. The wasteland was almost a no-go area, thanks to the Crack Cocaine epidemic that took grip of the city far after the men had departed for Ireland. The drug had made its way down from uptown – North Holland & Northwood – courtesy of those who had capitalized on the rise of Crack such as Dwayne Forge and his gang of dealers, and the boarded up unoccupied buildings gave a grim but only slight insight to how bad it had gotten.

From a duffel bag in the back seats, Bucky gleefully produced two Pump-Action Shotguns, one for the both of them. He fondled the weapon he held as if it were the voluptuous curves of a woman, sticking it casually out of the window and taking aim at a girl walking past half cut from a binge at one of the clubs further down the row. He had little reservation about pretending to take her life; if he had fired, there was no doubt the resulting impact would’ve torn her in half. He then produced the shells for the gun, more than enough for both of them should things go wayward, and began to roll off a basic plan of action as he fed them into the chamber.

“You go in first; take down anyone who doesn’t do what they’re told. I’m gonna make for the cash and you’re gonna watch the kids.” He swung the now loaded Shotgun around with little care, imitating a hold-up. “Got it?”

“Sure Bucky. I hope they give it up easy like.”

“They better. Or, ‘ya put ‘em in the ground.” From the solid stance of aim he held, he mimicked firing the weapon three times, solidifying his orders to murder anyone who got in their way. “All set?”

Derrick nodded and took a firm grip of the shotgun with his hands, clad in black leather gloves.

“Let’s f*ckin’ go then!”

Both men left their seats inside the Maibatsu and stood outside of the vehicle, taking hold of balaclavas buried deep in their pockets and pulling them over their heads. Clad head to toe in black, from balaclavas to bomber jackets and military style boots, they marched over to the battered door of the lot next to the diner looking every inch intimidating and extremely determined, helped in much of a manner by the further amounts of Cocaine consumed on the drive over.

Inside, a handful of executive figures sat around a table, deeply engaged in their game of poker. True to what Bucky said, the stakes were high. An Ancelotti Family soldier stood at the foot of the table, counting the cash that had been made so far while his associates continued to offer credit to those determined to carry on playing hands that the dealer, also an Ancelotti associate, was only too happy to deal.

A hefty amount of momentum propelled the large sole of Derrick’s boot towards the door; resulting in the brutal sound of splintering wood and broken hinges being torn away from the wall. The door soared inwards, ricocheting against a wall and stripping it of some plaster in the process. As it almost flew back into their faces, still somehow attached to the hinges, Derrick shoved it open, and came face to face with the money counting Ancelotti soldier, who slowly began to turn around, hand nervously hovering over his waistband. A chorus of “What the f*ck?” echoed around the room, followed by a damning grouch of “You know you’re f*cking with the Ancelottis, right?” by a bloated figure in a tracksuit seated next to the card dealer.

Derrick raised the shotgun to the height of the nearest head, that of the mobster counting the greens, as all colour seemed to disappear from the various faces around the room; the mobsters anticipating an attack and questioning their inner warrior on whether to strike first or not, the soldato held for a brief second at gun point by Derrick, and the executives whose careers would almost certainly be over should it get out that they were held up at a mob controlled card game. Derrick’s eyes tightened in form behind the balaclava, and his finger anxiously edged closer to the trigger. The money man barely began to mouth a plea for his life before everything above shoulder height was sloshed across the table to the rear of him.

Regardless of whether or not Derrick pulled the trigger out of fear or a misled thirst for blood, he found himself now faced with a grave situation; the reactionary senses of the mobsters kicked in almost immediately as their hands desperately made dashes for their weapons. Bucky stormed in eagerly, appearing almost possessed with an aura of violence transfixed to every ounce of his frame, and opened fire indiscriminately. The barrage of pellets blown free from the exploding shell slammed into the dealer and the man to his right, tearing into their chests and impacting into their necks. As another Mafioso rose from a chair with the intention of taking down the demonic gunman with his pistol, he found the murderously versatile Sligo to quickly shuffle his aim in his direction, tugging at the trigger with fingers oh so nimble, resulting in a shell taking him viciously from the chair and throwing onto the carpet below him in a bloody, torn mess. Those that did manage to escape did so quickly through the back door, either dashing to their automobiles or fleeing in manic frenzies down the street.

“Get all the f*ckin’ cash!” Bucky boomed, shoving the fragmented corpse of the money man off the table to the floor, a thick smell of death becoming ever the more poignant with the further added casualties.

“Get it now!” He repeated a second time without a trace of restraint in his voice. The duffel bag slid to a stop amongst the fatally mixed cocktail of blood and spare flesh on the mahogany table and Bucky began furiously grabbing at the stacks of money, ever so neatly counted by the late Ancelotti, ordering that Derrick to do the same. Their guns fell to either side of the bag while they threw every effort at piling as much cash as they could into it with little thought for consequence. Bucky surveyed the final amount, totting up to a fair sum, and dragged the zip along the rail before swinging the weighty bag around onto his back.

“Now let’s get the f*ck out ‘o here.”

Derrick stopped for a brief moment to look on at the bodies strewn across the room, the sirens wailing in the background roaming the streets in search of the incident; some patrons at the diner to the right must have raised the alarm. A sudden guilt began to descend on him as Bucky looped a firm hand around one of his solid arms and dragged him towards the exit, setting him free in the rain and courting him into the Vincent waiting so eagerly at the curb.

The back wheels tore away almost immediately from the drenched street at the first purr from the engine, jolting away violently quick. Derrick shook his head, trying to rid his greying hair of wetness, and guiltily descended his face into cupped hands. An only too frank realisation that Bucky had seriously misled him to the seriousness of this venture began to set in, along with doubt that he had done it time and time again in the past; the ambush in Belfast he recalled, and how he had been informed the area would be scarce of civilians. And what about that robbery in London? Those guards didn’t have to die.

“Why didn’t you tell me that it were the Ancelotti Family we were robbin’?” he summoned up enough courage to present the question to Bucky, whom had his eyes fixed on the road and coasting the driving wheel around several corners with his hand, though Derrick was aided somewhat by the feel of the warm pump-action shotgun that he cradled in his lap.

“I told you we were heistin’ some dagos, what the f*ck does it matter which bunch of ‘em it was?

He didn’t dare retort with an answer; Bucky would only berate him anyway. He simply drifted off into deep thoughts of solemness, now greatly fearful of the consequences of stealing from the Mafia. The Ancelottis in particular. The smallest of the five families, but by no bounds the weakest; they were currently locked in a mob war with the Lupisellas of Bohan, and the gruesome tally of bodies winding up dead on both sides sent shivers down his spine. They had to leave, he concurred. They had to go back to Britain, to lie low for a while if nothing more.

“Why don’t we skip town Bucky? Why don’t we go somewhere the mob won’t hound us down ‘an kill us for what we just did?”

For a moment, the madman appeared as though he were considering the thought, basking in silence behind the wheel. The tranquillity was shattered at the turn of the knob on the radio, replaced with riff driven pounding from the radio, the command of shut the f*ck up now needing no delivery from his mouth. As he glumly rotated his head to peer out of the window, drizzled with raindrops glinting with every pass underneath a street light, Bucky spoke.

“Okay. We got the guns; we did what we set out to do. We’ll go back and see how things are.”

With that mere declaration of approval, he had gotten his wish. The Vincent manoeuvred in the direction of Francis International Airport, the next flight to Ireland firmly in his sights, all doubt in Bucky fading in an instant.

Mati
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#1956

Posted 27 September 2010 - 04:00 PM

OK, I edited my post above so you can rate it.

aragond
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#1957

Posted 29 September 2010 - 11:48 AM

Aaaaaaalrighty then.

QUOTE (Tyla @ Sep 22 2010, 02:07)
Quick question for staff or Landstalker himself in relation to his name being pending (?) at Lucky Winkles Bar for the Irish; Does that mean he has claim to the spot seen as his introduction appeared in the ratings? Or he doesn't, as posts above say, and I could take it when I provide a story? Sorry to trouble you but it confuses me, though that doesn't seem to take a lot  moto_whistle.gif

No worries, mate.
Did he get the spot? Well it was conditional on a new (proper length) story. It's now been a month and still naught. Landstalker had a week to object to your proposal for his eviction, still nothing, so I'm assuming he's found other things to look at. (Or my rating of his non-story was too much to bear.) That's fine.
Tyla, take the slot.

@Landstalker/whoever-you-now-are: If you still want to participate, you are welcome to take iTz Macca's slot at the McReary household since we haven't heard from him since bloody March.

Now, this:


QUOTE (Tyla @ Sep 27 2010, 05:25)
And what exactly would be gained from another secondary version of this being opened? ... {snip} ...

Dedicated staff? What exactly is your idea of dedication? Frankly, I'd prefer the two active raters that take out the time when they have it, and give full, comprehensive reviews of what a participant has written and that I can trust. ... {snip} ... Take a look at the ratings of Aragond and Maverick. Such the critique they provide gives the incentive to improve and correct where you have gone wrong. That appeals to me more than being passed on with a simple monetary amount and a few words of praise, and the fact it's hard to get constructive criticism such as that from anyone else, be it in BUYSAG or Writers' discussion. Besides, it isn't like they don't cater to the stories supplied, is it?

Yes, I know people like it active. ... {snip} ...

There's nothing stopping you participating here. ... {snip} ...

The best thing you can do is to write.... {snip} ...

WOW!
Firstly, thank you. So, in summary, thank you. wink.gif
No, seriously, I really appreciate the considerate words. It's very encouraging to see our work appreciated.

I also endorse your call for people to just start writing. I've freely admitted, and apologised, that I am not around as often as I think I should be, but, right now, we're not overrun with participation, either.
And, yes, the rule is, you may post a story once a day, if you like, and rack-'em-up for Staff to rate, in bulk. Hell, Mav' did it, why shouldn't you? lol.gif

I think I agree with Tycek that the primary reason things are slow is because it was 30 months ago that GTA got released (and I *still* haven't played it at anything more than 13fps!!! Coulda bought a crapbox years ago!!) and, well, GTAF is generally much, much slower than it was two years ago. I mean, I'm looking at the front screen and there's -- no kidding -- me and three guests. Whereas, this time three years ago, there was over a hundred named users on any given night. So, it's kinda inevitable BUYG would also slow down.
And, look, seriously, if the structure of BUYG was the only thing holding back dozens from joining us, we'd also have more than a couple o' people telling us this was the problem. Or BUYSAG would be roaring.

Which is not to say that we shouldn't improve it, or that it couldn't be much better than it is, or that I am rejecting Mav's darn good suggestions. But, let's face it, it's perfectly "playable", right now. Bar this one issue: dead wood is taking up slots on the front page. And, I pledge to rectify that as soon as I get some time.

Hmm, in the meantime, if we are DESPERATE, this post lists a bunch of players that Mav' deemed expungable. You want one of their slots, ask, post a story and I reckon 97% odds it's yours. That should tide the next couple o' people over.

I'm sorry if some feel it's Staff's fault BUYG IV aint all it could be. I, for one, am dancing as fast as I can. But, frankly, until y'all pitch in and pay me a salary, I can't really quit my job to do this more often/full time. (But, I dare yas!!! biggrin.gif ) So, until then, we'll do as best we can.

Slingaa
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#1958

Posted 29 September 2010 - 04:05 PM

@aragond

I didn't mean you specifically. I recall you and the rest of the job doing an awesome job once I was active, just the majority of the staff just haven't been active recently.

I'm just proposing a clear out and a new staff list. Not a completely new one, just the current staff that want to stay on, and a few more.

Maverick24
  • Maverick24

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#1959

Posted 29 September 2010 - 06:52 PM Edited by Maverick24, 30 September 2010 - 12:03 AM.

I started a reply the other night saying pretty much these same things in response to Tyla's post. I got bored though and quit. So I apologise for my previously discreet and unknown rudeness. Ultimately though, I concur on the points made by both Tyla and Aragond.

QUOTE (aragond @ Sep 29 2010, 11:48)
No, seriously, I really appreciate the considerate words. It's very encouraging to see our work appreciated.


I share the feeling of appreciation too. All staff are volunteers, making compliments the only form of wage that we recieve! Not only is it nice to have positive comments about any levels of dedication we apply, but also very encouraging to know that the review style goes down well with admirable writers such as Tyla.

QUOTE (aragond @ Sep 29 2010, 11:48)
I also endorse your call for people to just start writing. I've freely admitted, and apologised, that I am not around as often as I think I should be, but, right now, we're not overrun with participation, either.
And, yes, the rule is, you may post a story once a day, if you like, and rack-'em-up for Staff to rate, in bulk. Hell, Mav' did it, why shouldn't you?  lol.gif


It's the only way to do it mate!
Seriously though, posting plenty of stories is a good thing. It will aid with your writing and posting rhythm, helping you to "get into" your stories better. Also, activity here tends to lead to more activity, I find. Perhaps I should try harder to get back into some writing as to hopefully encourage maybe a few more people to join in. Unfortunately, quite like Aragond, I am swamped with work having recently graduated and started a real job.

QUOTE (aragond @ Sep 29 2010, 11:48)
And, look, seriously, if the structure of BUYG was the only thing holding back dozens from joining us, we'd also have more than a couple o' people telling us this was the problem. Or BUYSAG would be roaring.

Which is not to say that we shouldn't improve it, or that it couldn't be much better than it is, or that I am rejecting Mav's darn good suggestions. But, let's face it, it's perfectly "playable", right now. Bar this one issue: dead wood is taking up slots on the front page. And, I pledge to rectify that as soon as I get some time.


I made comments previously that were positive towards the work that had been put into BUYGSA. Having watched how things have progressed there, I am not seeing these changes make positive improvements to that board. Not intending to detract from the hard work of the individuals who made that happen, I unfortunately (or thankfully?) cannot see evidence in support of a radical "reboot" of BUYGIV in a similar manner.

That's not to say that changes would not be a good thing here. Beyond an expulsion of "dead wood", I envisage that gangs could be liberated in place of a 'writer-centric' style of board. I think that this might encourage both better writing, more individual involvement, and hopefully improve longevity of writer's stays, which is truly a problem here.
I will post more on this matter when I have thought on it some. It's something that has been kicking around in my head for a few weeks but never really surmounting to anything.

QUOTE (aragond @ Sep 29 2010, 11:48)
I'm sorry if some feel it's Staff's fault BUYG IV aint all it could be. I, for one, am dancing as fast as I can. But, frankly, until y'all pitch in and pay me a salary, I can't really quit my job to do this more often/full time.


I nearly made this same comment too. PAY ME

EDIT

As part of my idea for a ‘writer-centric’ idea to this topic, I am going to start suggesting a list of updates that I think could be beneficial.

Writer ‘Cards’
First of all, I propose that in place of the current gang lists, we have a writers list instead. Each active writer would have a ‘card’ which details their full involvement and individual assets (more on that in a bit). Below is my suggestion for what a ‘card’ would look like:

Maverick24
Link: Personal Writer Profile
GangIrish MobPavano FamilyTOTAL
DetailsStory Count: 14
Earnings: $634
Active Property: None
Last Post: Aug 2 2010
Story Count: 3
Earnings: $111
Active Property: Auto Eroticar
Last Post: Jul 26 2010
$745
WeaponsPistol
AK-47
Pistol
Shotgun
Sub Machinegun
VehiclesOracle
Sultan GT
Sentinel
Key Items
Fundamental differences are that this ‘card’ shows recognition of the individual achievements of a user. It also details multiple gang involvements.
Essentially, I would like to remove the requirement for a writer to involve themselves with just the one gang. If I am bored writing for the Irish, I should be able to write an M.O.B story without having to give up my slot, or search for an available property: a quest that often will end in disappointment and a writer simply turning away.
Writers can ‘hop in’ any one property, vacant or not, and write without compromise. Also, writers could maintain two or more story-lines, as separate or entwined as they wish.
Notice that under the Irish mob I have indicated the active property as “None”. My thought here is that a writer can chose to terminate a story-line at will, indicating that it is complete and they have vacated.
Another feature here is that I have linked to my ‘Personal Writer Profile’. This is a post made by me, and not staff, that critically allows me to track my own stories in as much depth as I wish. I plan here that each active writer could, entirely optionally, allocate a single post in which to replicate something as similar, or drastically different, to my episode list as they wish; in order to provide guidance or supplementary information regarding their stories.

Design Aspects
I have designed the bb-code of these cards to be easy for staff to maintain. The layout is detailed as follows:
CODE
01. [size=14]Maverick24[/size]
02. [url=http://www.gtaforums.com/index.php?showtopic=371690&view=findpost&p=1059870096]Link: Personal Writer Profile[/url]
03. [tableb][tr][th]Gang[/th]
04. [th]Irish Mob[/th]
05. [th]Pavano Family[/th]
06. [th]TOTAL[/th][/tr]
07. tr][th]Details[/th]
08. [td]Story Count: 14
09. Earnings: $634
10. Active Property: None
11. Last Post: Aug 2 2010[/td]
12. [td]Story Count: 3
13. Earnings: $111
14. Active Property: Auto Eroticar
15. Last Post: Jul 26 2010[/td]
16. [td][b]$745[/b][/td][/tr]
17. [tr][th]Weapons[/th]
18. [td]Pistol
19. AK-47[/td]
20. [td]Pistol
21. Shotgun
22. Sub Machinegun[/td][/tr]
23. [tr][th]Vehicles[/th]
24. [td]Oracle
25. Sultan GT[/td]
26. [td]Sentinel[/td][/tr]
27. [/tableb]


Lines 01 and 02 should be clear enough: name and link to profile. The other 25 lines create the full table.
Lines 03 to 06 create the table headers including the gang names. To add gangs, the name, including the table header tags should be copied before the current line 06. To remove: vice versa.
Lines 03, 07, 17 and 23 make up the first column.
Lines 08 to 11, and similarly lines 12 to 16, create the details box for the respective gang in the header row. This whole box should be replicated for a new gang. Inside the box, amendments will be required to earnings, story count and last post (which refers to stories only, not posts made in general).
The same principles then apply to weapons and vehicles.
The TOTAL earnings figure is amended in line 16.

If staff members would like to comment on the above then it would be appreciated. If this seems unnecessarily complicated then I will desist and stop wasting my time. If this seems to be going somewhere good, I will happily accept recommended amendments.

Individual Assets
Writers should own, and earn, their own collection of goodies. This would reduce the biased appeal of the wealthier gangs: the Italians and the Irish. Players should start with a wad of cash, say $500, and have to use it to buy all their initial assets.
I would like to combined this with a realignment of the prices of all assets, particularly cars, with respect to the feasible earnings from writing. My 14 stories for the Irish earned fairly consistent high marks, but with $634 (average rating of $45) I can’t afford more than half of the vehicles. This isn’t gang-building in it’s current format. The requirements to purchase anything are far too steep.
Scraps drugs assets. They are not utilised, are not understood any anyone and only serve to complicate and restrict matters.

Roll out
I am not going to go through every member here, collect all their personal earnings and set them up with a card. I suggest an almost complete wipe of the list of active participants (preserve it in a post however). Individuals with a current status can request to be carried forwards, but should be made responsible for accurately accounting for their own earnings and story counts (with a bit of validation on the side of some unlucky staff).
I suggest that active members, on creation of a ‘card’, keep their current earnings plus the start-up bonus that I suggest above.
Note: this is merely a suggestion, barely a beta development! Please don’t sh*t yourselves and think I am going to hastily turn this thread inside out. This must be a communal effort for it to run smoothly.

Comments are welcome.

EDIT
tl:dr

Tycek
  • Tycek

    Being a bastard works.

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  • Joined: 20 Jul 2009
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#1960

Posted 30 September 2010 - 07:43 PM

I wanna say few words to the staff first. The story you'll find below is interlude story, not exactly about Lost MC. It is concentrating around cops starting investigation about the gang, so if you don't want to rate it, simply don't do it. I won't have any problems with that. And the reason that this story became interlude is simple. This supposed to be part of next story, but it simply becomes too big. I decided to split them in two and post as a different stories.


user posted image
The LOST MC interlude one: The dog in the fog.


Chris Mahone was sitting in his small office. He got pretty high in the police, but he still had to work in that sh*tty little room with old desk which tabletop was cut so hard that it looked like a cutting board, old filing cabinet full of some papers which weren’t used for a long time and some hard to name plant, which wasn't watered in days, so it started to dry. The big clock hanging on the wall continuously counted consecutive minutes of life. Rays of sunshine shining through yellowed leaves of trees danced on the wall into the rhythm of music made by the clock. Chris’ life was temporarily restricted to reading today’s newspaper and drinking coffee from paper cup. He had suspicions that something is going to happen soon, so he tried to steal a minute of peace from this crazy day. One more thing... he was cop from Gang Crime Unit. This unit was established in Alderney State Police in the end of the eighties when organized crime started to become pain in the governor’s ass. He gave order to create team that would destroy all the gangs in Alderney, but they didn’t achieve a lot thru all these years. Gangs still ruled on the streets and normal people had to hide in their houses during night hours.

He heard knocking and he turned his face to the door, but he could only see someone's shape through the milk glass.

"Come in," he said folding the newspaper and putting it on the desk.

"Chris. Our boys found something. Chief wants us to go there," young police officer said.

“What do you mean by something Bert? Pot full of gold on the end of the rainbow? Virgin in Liberty City? Black Angel of Death?”

Chris was rather sarcastic man and this particular feature came from his lifestyle. He was 40 years old cop still living in some small house in Berchem with fat wife and two teenage daughters, which only hobby was to put pictures of their boobs on the myroom.com. He thought that sarcasm is perfect solution for this world's evil. Chris was trying to laugh at almost everything starting from his wife and ending on his job.

He stood up from the chair and threw the newspaper to the trashcan. The paper cup also landed there splashing today’s newspaper with brown, cold liquid.

“They found six bodies on the top of multistory car park. Two of the bodies were belonging to our people. Two officers from Patrol Unit.”

"Let's go there and check it," Chris said grabbing his jacket form the backrest and they left the office.

After a while, they came to the parking in front of the precinct house where white cruisers and patrols with triangular patches of the ASP on the doors were parked, picked on of them and drove to the parking that was located few steps away from the cop station. The crime scene was established on the top level. Yellow caution tape with writing "POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS" was almost everywhere, separating crime scene from the rest of the parking, but in fact whole level was closed. That place looked like an abattoir. Two police officers were still sitting in the car, but they were ripped by bullets. Dead Angels were lying on the concrete floor, near blown up Bobcat and near the squad car. There was also splash of blood behind the Merit, but someone had to escape before police arrived.

"What do we have here?" Chris asked one of the forensics.

"Well. Bloodbath. We are thinking that this was bigger than it seems. We found six bodies, but there is also blood splash and we found some shells. A lot of 7.62mm, some nine's and shotgun shells right behind this Dinka," he said showing red Blista.

"There had to be some more people, but they escaped. Oh, I almost forgot. There is also bike lying behind this Merit. This kind of bobber or how do you call it?"

“Damn,” he said and pulled out cigarettes from the pocket on his chest. “Get these bodies to the laboratory.”

“Yes, sir,” forensic said and came back to his job.

Chris lighted the cigarette and came to his car. He sat on the hood and rested his feet on the bumper. Bert stood by the car door and looked at the forensics.

“This is very strange.”

“What?” Chris asked, “What do you mean?”

“Four days ago LCPD found body of the biker from the Lost in back alley. Yesterday it was a body of another loser found in the Booth Tunnel. Today we found four dead Angels and two officers. It looks more like a war than gang retaliation.”

“What is so strange about that?” Chris asked standing up. The car springs howled again. “We probably will face another gang war in the nearest future.”

“But they found some AR’s shells and bullets. This is weapon used mainly by the Russians. What are they doing here and why they are fighting with AoD and us?”

“Oh, Bert. You are young. You have to learn a lot about life. This was just gang retaliation made by Losers. I’m telling you.”

“Maybe you are right Chris. Maybe I watched too many movies,” Bert said.

Bert, whose full name was Roberto Rojas was 25 years old and he started to work in ASP three years ago. He was born in Northwood, but his parents came from Dominican Republic. He was living in small house in Leftwood with wife and two years old son.

"What are we gonna do now? Are we getting back to the station?" Bert asked opening the front door.

"Yeah. We have to start investigation," Chris answered and got in the car.

They closed the doors and Chris started the engine, which begun to make humming sounds of big V8 block. Police Cruisers were having pretty big engines with power approximately 250 hp. These cars were used only by taxi corporations, police and FIB, but lately Bravado Buffalo took their place in the Bureau. Police officers in Liberty City were still using Police Cruisers for normal driving and Police Patrols based on Merit for patrol driving. These two weren't on patrol so they were using Cruiser.

Chris reversed and drove from the parking. After few minutes, they were back at the station, and they were walking through the corridors. They stopped by the coffee machine. Chris felt it was perfect time for another piss poor coffee from automated coffee maker.

"You want some?" Chris asked putting the coins into the slot.

"No, thanks," Bert refused.

Chris took cup with coffee and drank some. Hot drink melted in his mouth. He went to his office and sat behind the desk. Bert followed him and sat on one of the chairs standing by the desk.

“Should we go to the boss?” Bert asked.

“I think he will call us in a while, Chris said and drank some coffee. “And, we’re going to visit him, anyway.”

He was right because the intercom started to buzz. Chris pressed the button and said:

“Yeah?”

“Mahone, Rojas. In my office, now.”

The head of this police station was captain Donahue. He was 55 years old cop with grey hair and blue eyes. He was sitting in his office, much bigger than Chris’ room, and smoked some cigarette. When he saw Mahone and Rojas coming to his office, he crumpled his cigarette in the ashtray.

“Okay, boys, what did you find there?” he asked.

“Two bodies of our people from the patrol unit, four deadbeats and a lot of shells.”

“Who killed them?” Donahue asked standing up.

“I suspect Lost MC. Two of them were found lately. I think it was gang retaliation.”

“They killed two of our guys and four deadbeats? How many of them were there? 10? And nobody saw them?” Donahue asked walking around the room. “I want to tell you something else. We’re going to cooperate with LCPD, because the first body was found on their ground.”

Chris gave him a look of beaten dog because he didn’t like cowboys from LCPD. Captain saw Mahone’s face and said:

“I don’t want to hear how much you don’t like these boys, Mahone. I heard it a million times already. You have to work with them. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Chris answered.

“So, get to it,” captain gave order with a smile on his face and took another cigarette from the pack.

Chris and Bert left the captain’s office and went to the car park. They drove straight to the police station on Kunzite St. Officers from LCPD were waiting for them in front of the building. One of them was 40 years old white man called McIntosh, the second was 37 years old black man called Harris. They were standing near white Police Cruisers and talking.

Chris stopped car next to them and got off. He came to two LCPD officers and said:

“Mahone and this is my partner Rojas. We are supposed to cooperate with you.”

McIntosh looked at him and said:

"I'm McIntosh and this is Harris. It looks like we need to complete the jigsaw while we're having one piece and you're having the rest of them."

"Exactly," Chris said and smiled a little. "We're going to talk here?"

"We can go to the bar. Irish bar ‘Lucky Winkles’ is nearby," McIntosh said with a voice of the expert. In fact, he drank in that bar pretty often. He was an Irishman and he just had to know every Irish place in this city.

Mahone saw a little badge looking like small, green, four-leaf clover with golden outline in McIntosh's lapel and said:

"Yeah, we can go there or what is even better we can drive there. We will sit and drink some green beer."

McIntosh gave him a bad look and Mahone felt a little strange. Mahone didn't like cops from LCPD so much that he always was picking on them. McIntosh was just trying to be nice, but now he felt that he doesn't like Mahone. Harris was just standing nearby and listening just like Rojas.

They got into the Mahone's car and drove to ‘Lucky Winkles’. They were driving past club ‘Hercules’ where queue of patrons was already forming. A lot of men and women standing in line and waiting to enter. Strange looking guy wearing black coat and black beret was standing at the door.

“Any of you have been there?” Mahone asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been there. Some time ago when I was just a street cop. There was some disturbance inside. Two guys were beating the crap out of each other. They were fighting for a boyfriend,” Harris said. “I put inside both of them, and this so-called boyfriend grabbed another guy from the bar.”

“O, man. What a story.” Mahone laughed.

“What do you mean? It’s a true story. Gay guys are having relationships. Have you ever heard about Gay Tony? He is owner of the Hercules and Maissonette 9, he is having a regular partner,” Harris said looking at the building where Hercules was established.

“Why are you telling me this? Mahone interrupted. “Do you think I’m interested in hearing all this crap? I don’t give a damn about Gay Tony. Are you a homo Harris?”

“No, I was just…,” Harris tried to defend himself, but he became silent and started to look outside.

McIntosh who was sitting on the front passenger seat smiled a little. He had suspicions that Harris could be gay, but now he was almost sure. You are learning something new every day.

They went to the bar, where Ireland was flowing from every hole. There were even little gnomes crawling from the cracks between the wooden boards, but you needed to drink a lot of beer to see them. There were a lot of people keen for that type of relationship, so they were pouring in themselves enormous quantities of alcohol. And almost every one of them was Mc-something. Just like in McDonald’s.

Four police officers came to the bar and ordered a drink. McIntosh ordered Irish beer, Mahone took pisswasser, and Rojas and Harris took a glass of eCola. They sat by the one of the free tables and started looking at each other.

“Okay. I’m sorry for my stupid jokes. You can be gay if you want Harris. That is not my business. And I’m sorry for this joke about green beer. Are we straight?” Mahone asked.

“Apologies accepted,” McIntosh answered and Harris nodded his head. “Let’s get back to business. We found body in back alley four days ago. It was a body of biker identified as Michael Rosen, 28. He was member of the Lost Motorcycle Club. The cause of death was two shots, one in the chest, and second one in the head. It looked like an execution. We think that Angels of Death killed him, but he was killed with pistol and Angels are using Combat Pistols. It wasn’t a robbery I can tell you that. He still got his wallet when this hooker found him. But his weapon is missing.”

“What about his bike?” Mahone asked and drank some beer.

“We found it nearby. Standard black Zombie. We found some fingerprints on it. Two types of fingerprints to be precise. One of them is Mr. Rosen’s, but we couldn’t identify the second ones. That is all we know. Tell us what you found.”

“Yesterday we found a body of the biker in the Booth Tunnel,” Mahone said and put his glass on the table. “It could be an accident, but the truck driver escaped and we still didn’t find him. This biker was member of the Lost MC of course.”

“What about today?” McIntosh asked.

“Today is interesting day. Two dead cops and four Angels on the top level of the multistory car park in Leftwood. A lot of shells and what is more interesting those are Assault Rifle shells, shotgun shells, and some nines. My partner thinks that could be Russians,” Mahone said and looked at Bart.

“That’s right. Many AR shells mean that there were at least three shooters. And if you add those other shells, you will get six, seven men. Of course without counting those dead officers,” Bert explained and continued to play with the ice cubes melting in the empty glass.

“And what do you think?” McIntosh asked Mahone.

“I think that was just gang retaliation. Angels killed two losers, so they repaid them today. Group of six, seven members of the Lost MC, some with ARs, some with pistols, and one with sawn-off. “

“So, what are you going to do?” McIntosh asked after a minute.

Mahone looked at him and said:

“Today, nothing, but tomorrow I would like to visit The Lost MC clubhouse and talk with some losers.”

He looked by the window on the sunset, which heralded the coming of night, which covers the whole city like a big quilt.

AceRay
  • AceRay

    In my restless dreams, I see that town...

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  • Joined: 05 Oct 2010

#1961

Posted 05 October 2010 - 08:00 AM Edited by AceRay, 05 October 2010 - 08:36 AM.

Hey guys, I'm new here and this looks like a freaking awesome game, shame its not being used, but I have a few questions though. I'll probably post some story tomorrow if these are answered.
1. Who is the M.O.B? I can't find out about them on the Grand Theft Wiki
2. Can you buy stuff without consent from the gang. Like can I say, I want to buy a knife or does there need to be a discussion
3. Can you more than just one type of weapon ie can you have a knife, baseball bat and pool cue?
4. Are there allowed to be freelance hitmen, or stuff like that? Can the main protagonist be just a freelance guy working for a gang? Is he allowed to be called Issac?
5. chapters are about 750-1000 words right?
6. are you allowed to break the forth wall. I love it when that happens

thanks for all that.

aragond
  • aragond

    We are the Aragond. We will bury you.

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  • Joined: 26 Aug 2007
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#1962

Posted 05 October 2010 - 10:14 AM Edited by aragond, 05 October 2010 - 10:27 AM.

QUOTE (AceRay @ Oct 5 2010, 18:00)
Hey guys, I'm new here and this looks like a freaking awesome game, shame its not being used, but I have a few questions though. I'll probably post some story tomorrow if these are answered.

It is, it is and shoot.
Is 140 minutes later quick enough forya? tounge2.gif


QUOTE (continued...)
1. Who is the M.O.B? I can't find out about them on the Grand Theft Wiki
Um, really?! Really.. (Ahh, bu99ah. Click the link and add a full-stop to the end of the URL in your browser. Bl00dy bbcode.)
Sure, they aint big in IV, but they existed.


QUOTE (continued...)
2. Can you buy stuff without consent from the gang. Like can I say, I want to buy a knife or does there need to be a discussion
At present, no.
And yes.
tounge2.gif
You cannot buy a weapon or spend any of the gang's money in the first five stories. After that you're kinda spending someone else's hard-earned cash if you spend more than you've earned, so it's considered very bad form to not, at least, ask that person for their acquiesense.
Now, that said, if the person that earned all that money aint still around, or your gang has been emptied of players, well, then, I guess what's yours is now yours.
But, the key is you can't buy nuttin' for five stories-worth of time.


QUOTE (continued...)
3. Can you more than just one type of weapon ie can you have a knife, baseball bat and pool cue?
lol.gif Yes, while this is GTA in inspiration, your gang may certainly have all the weapons. You, however, may struggle in your stories to explain how, like Niko, you managed to carry a concealed rocket launcher. biggrin.gif Remember that while this is set in the GTA IV universe, the laws of physics (reality, etc) should be earth-like.

QUOTE (continued...)
4. Are there allowed to be freelance hitmen, or stuff like that? Can the main protagonist be just a freelance guy working for a gang? Is he allowed to be called Issac?
NPCs are certainly permissible and encouraged, but they shouldn't really be main characters of your story, and certainly not the protagonist (main guy). But, THOSE characters are not restricted, like your gang members, to the gang's weapons. BUT, don't go abusing that.
As for the name, I have no idea why you couldn't call him Isaac. Just don't make him a 60-year old Jewish diamond-buyer.
biggrin.gif

QUOTE (continued...)
5. chapters are about 750-1000 words right?
In truth, there's no upper limit (save what GTAF can accept per post; and how much I can stomach reading), and, in theory at least, there isn't a lower limit. If you can write a tight-as 350 word punchy little blockbuster that has everyone blushing at your brilliance, go for it. But, yes, Staff have gotten rather irritated by tiny little snippets of stories, barely qualifying as vignettes, being passed-off full-stories. So, generally speaking, yes, 600 words would be a rough minimum.
But, generally, Staff just penalise players dollars. Repeat offenders will ultimately get ignored, but, in all honesty (speaking on behalf of more staff here than perhaps I can), it's got more to do with how much you have described, and how good the story is, than how many bytes you've used.

BUT, long and the short of it, if all your stories come in between 750 and 1,000 words, expect Staff to be satisfied.


QUOTE (continued...)
6. are you allowed to break the forth wall. I love it when that happens
As far as I know, it's never been tried. And probably for good reason: it is hard to do well.
Mel Brooks' absurdist comedies ("Blazing Saddles" for example) pulled it off with aplomb, and largely because they were absurdist, but few others have even tried and some have bombed badly.
Staff won't say "no". You'll not be penalised, per se, for doing it. But, if it results in a poor story that just doesn't work and recalls memories of cringe-worthy story-telling, Staff reserve the right to rate your story down accordingly.
lol.gif

QUOTE (continued...)
thanks for all that.

No worries.

AceRay
  • AceRay

    In my restless dreams, I see that town...

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  • Joined: 05 Oct 2010

#1963

Posted 07 October 2010 - 06:22 AM Edited by AceRay, 08 October 2010 - 10:21 AM.

Issac Roth was 60 years old? I thought he was 30. Anyway, thanks for the help Aragond, that was great. I'd like to be in the Albanian Mob, and be at the Platypus, If that would be OK, cos that space is open. OK here I go. I actually did research on this so all the streets are real.

Chapter 1: Beneficial for everyone.
I got out of the cab and walked up the road to the ship, the Platypus. One day, my boss, a sub-boss of the Albanian Mob by the name of Skender Smirnov, rang me up about a boat that was found abandoned. He has been using it as a hub for his operations. One day he is going to sail around the world with it, or so he says. It was a warm afternoon so I removed my woolen beanie and put it in my pocket. I soon arrived at the Platypus and headed up to the deck where Skender quickly greets me.

"Hello Otto, its been a while since I've seen you, my boy" Skender says despite the fact I saw the old man last week. He has been busy though, so I don't call him on it. I noticed his hair was whitening, even though he was only about 50.
"Its good seeing you too sir" I said slightly sarcastically. "What do you want?"
"There is a vehicle, a very rare Benefactor Schafter GTS, which would sell in Vice City for about half a mil. It would be nice to have this particular in Albanian hands." He said quite simply. I figured there would be more to come, so I just nodded my head and listened.
"Now, the vehicle is in possession of the Spanish Lords. It is located at the RON gas station on Cleeves Avenue. It will probably be guarded so bring some back up. Take it back here. And also..." he was saying when his phone rang "hold on, take that Hakumai down there" and he tossed me the key. Then he walked off into the cabins. I turn round to look at the car, and it was just a normal Albanian style Hakumai. I walk down the plank and into the shed, where I see my most trust worthy colleagues; Pete and Andri.

"Otto! so good to see you. It looks like you need something. What is it?" Pete asks me. Pete's real name is Pjeter, but he prefers to be called Pete. He is wearing his green jacket and track pants he bought from the Russian Clothing Shop. I think he looks terrible coupled with his pencil mustache of his, but don't say anything.
"The boss has given us a job guys, he told you two to come along" I reply.

"What is this job?" Andri asks me. Andri was the type of person who would never do anything unless everything was planned out. If he was going to choose between two types of candy bars, he would probably spend about 2 hours comparing calories and sugar levels before finally deciding on something, only to find out he doesn't like it.

"Look, its very simple, there is a car Skender wants, we go get it. Should be no trouble" I say. Andri obviously thinks I haven't thought through this enough, but he goes along with it anyway.

"Great, lets go" Pete says. Andri gets on his red Albanian jacket over his white shirt and hurries to the car. I wonder whats his rush. Pete gets into the passenger seat and I get into the driver's seat and I turn the key. The car starts up, I relax my muscles and I pull away.

I pull out into the street and turn left. I figured that Andri would start asking questions about the car and stuff, and I was right.
"So, whats this car we are stealing?is it exotic?" Andri asks intriguingly.
"Its a Benefactor Schafter GTS, or something like that. Its held by those Spanish lords at some Gas Station." I reply. Suddenly, Pete got very excited.
"A Schafter GTS? Are you serious Otto? That is, like, the fasted Benefactor out there! I read about online. Honestly. I literally pissed my pants when you said that." As you can see, Pete is a huge petrol head.

"Actually, literally means it actually happened in real life, and I don't see a pee stain on your pants." I say as I turn into Thornton Street
"Yeah, you know what I mean. I've always wanted to drive that!! This is just so huge. I just can't handle this" He turns on the radio, and spins the dial to The Journey. There was some crappy space sounding, well, sounds, but Pete seems to like it so I just leave it alone.
"So, is there going to be any guards or what?" inquires Andri as I turn right into Huntington street.

"Most probably. Boss said it was worth about the half a mill. Do you real think those Spaniards would just leave it unguarded at a gas station in Meadows Park." I tell him as I go through Stillwater Ave. I then turn left to Carson Ave.
"Well, are we all armed?" Andri asks. We all look at each other awkwardly. Thankfully, I have a Mini-SMG, and I know that Andri always carries pistol, so we were all set. I pulled left into the Broker-Dukes Expressway.
"What do you have Pete?" I ask him.

"You've got to turn left here" he told me. I know where to go, I don't need him to tell me. I let him continue anyway as I drive down the long Saratoga Avenue"And, no, I was expecting a quiet day today. You know. I wasn't expecting to have to blow the sh*t out of people today. You know. I have yoga later on today."

"Oh my god Petey" Andri says, which echoes my thoughts. "You get into this kind of business, you expect to blown over around every corner. you're nearly 30 Pjeter, stop acting like a freaking 5 year old. Jesus Christ, I didn't I was friends with a cabbage. When you do this stuff, you have cover your opponent at all times, have the edge over them. You're too relaxed you little fu..." Andri can get very caught up some times, and I feel he take things too seriously.

"Calm down dude, we'll figure something out" I tell Andri. Andri can get very caught up some times, and I feel he take things too seriously. I'm not that happy about Peter though as I turn to Pete "Pete, use your imagination. Or just stay in the car and let the big boys do the work."

Pete looks down and mumbles something about being the wheelman, but we're nearly there. I turn into Cleeves Avenue from Tudor Street. I can see the RON from here. I drive up to the station, and I see the Schitzer, Schwatzer, or Sch-whatever. I chuckle at my little joke that I made. The GTS looked pretty like any normal one, except maybe with a custom paint job, body kit and a wing.

I notice that there are about 9 Spanish guys hanging round the GTS, and I notice a couple of Primos opposite, so the odds were almost even. They were in the row of car parks at the edge of the complex so I park the car at the other end of the row. I check if everyone is ready, and they appear to be so, so I get out.
I shout out "Hey, Skender Smirnov likes your vehicle". I check that both Pete and Andri are in cover as the Spanish look a bit confused, then I open fire with my Mini SMG, making sure that I don't hit the GTS because the more damage it sustains, the less it is worth. A couple of them go down when they start firing back, so I dive over the Hakumai's hood.

"Good job Starsky" Pete says. I smile, but it annoys me that he doesn't have a gun. Andri blind fires his basic pistol a couple of times.
"Dude, you'll hit the Schafter!!" I scream as the the Hakumai's tire pressure goes down. I could see that Andri just forgot And was not it on purpose. I ask him to cover me. He starts blind firing again, but this time he sticks his head slightly round the side of the Hakumai and manages to hit one of them in the leg. As soon as he does that I come up and hit one in the face, who comes crashing down. Thankfully, I'm too fast for them to hit me, but it did come close. It would be beneficial if I did not do that again.

"Andri, I think the Hakumai can't take much more! We'll have to do this quickly!" I shout at Andri. Suddenly, a dog faced Spaniard in a yellow shirt pops out at the side of the car out of nowhere. He aims a pistol at Pete, and he puts his hands in front of his eyes. Thinking quickly, I shoot the thug in shoulder, to which he stumbles back and sprays bullets everywhere. I then finish him off with a quick shot in the face. I then shout out the cheesiest, corniest catchphrase I know which is:
"Crime doesn't pay!!" To which Andri puts his face on his palm. Pete, however, quickly grabs the thug's gun and fires a couple of bullets over the hood. I think he took down a couple, and I peer over the roof, and it turns out to be true. Despite Andri's feelings about Pete, he was crack shot. I think there was only a couple left. We all got up and pointed our guns at them. One of them just kept firing, so we shot him, but the other one threw his gun on the ground and surrendered. We all point our guns at him, but don't shoot. I could see that Andri and Pete were still deciding inside their heads. The kid looked young, about 19, and he looked scared. I turn to Andri.

"Andri, I say we keep him hostage, and, like, hold a ransom or some sh*t like that." I suggest. I think it sounds like a sound idea.
"Nah man, Smirnov won't be very happy. He just told us to get the car, with no extra baggage." Andri says as he shoots down me idea.
"Don't worry, I've got everything sorted." I say as I turn to the kid. I could see that Andri wanted to object, but I don't care.

"OK son, we're going to ransom you back to your friends. Don't squirm or we'll kill you. Nothing personal. Whats your name son?" I ask him. Its a bit gruff, but what more can you ask for? its a kidnapping
"I'm... I'm Javi" He stutters.
"OK, Javi, Pete here is going to get the rope from the trunk while Andri will make sure you don't move. Tell us where the keys for the car is, now!!" I tell him. He points at a dead Spaniard. I walk over to him. Andri keeps his gun pointed at Javi. I could obviously see that he was not happy. I check the dead guy's pockets. The keys were there, just where he said.
"You got anything in your pockets?" I ask him. He just pulls out a phone. I take it, and ring the first name on the list.

"Yo Javi, whats down homes?" The voice on the phone says.
"If you ever want to see Javi alive again, than you'd better pay up. Meet us tomorrow at 7pm, at the alleyway on Valley Forge, next to the Auto Mech & Repair. Bring at least $500. Be there, or Javi gets it." I say over the phone. Then I hang up. I think I sounded pretty tough, or at least I hope so. While I was saying this, Pete had got the rope from the car, and had started tying up the hostage. Andri then lands a knock out punch on Javi, knocking him out. He then tells Pete to hurry up.

"Well Otto, that little stunt just means the Spanish Lords are going to be on our asses in a few minutes." Says Andri disappointingly. He continued by saying "To protect the GTS, you and me are going to ghost it in another car while Pete drives. The Hakumai is toast, but fortunately, an old lady left her white Sabre with the keys in the ignition before she filled up the car." I could see the old bitch running away right now. It made me laugh. Andri continued with "Lets put the hostage in the trunk of the Sabre, and Petey will drive it to his house. He will keep the hostage." Andri has obviously thought this through more than Pete and me did.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" I ask Andri.

"Hell no. Smirnov will freak if he found out I did this behind his back. Look, I'll explain more in the car." He says. I toss Pete the keys to the GTS and Andri and me run to the Vincent, I turn the ignition and the engine runs smoothly. I rev the engine a couple of times, while I wait for Pete, just to get used to the car, and then suddenly we were off. We were just going to backtrack the way home. We were going along smoothly as we turned into Saratoga Ave when suddenly a big, red Cavaclade appears from a side street and tries to pull over the GTS. The Spaniards obviously know the value of the car, and don't want there to be any damage caused.

I hand my SMG to Andri and he fires some shots into the back of the SUV. I speed up and overtake it, while Andri fires a load of bullets into the tires. I hear the tires pop as the wheels lose their air pressure. Andri reloads as I suggest he aims for the driver. He pops his gun out the window and lets loose a few bullets into the windows. I hear the horn blast continuously, which can only mean two things; either the driver wants someone to get out of his way or he's dead. I believe it is the latter.

I high five Andri when I spy another Cavaclade in my rear view mirror. This time they are aimed for us! I hear gunshots, and they aren't Andri's. Both Andri and I duck. They must be coming from the Cavaclade. I pick up Andri's pistol, turn around and let a few shots fire. I think one of them hit the passenger. I turn back when Andri taps me on the shoulder to tell me that we need to turn to the Broker-Dukes Expressway. I turn right rapidly and quickly lay some shots onto the Cavaclade as it understeers, which should leave the driver fully exposed. I soon remember that cars in this country drive on the right, but It doesn't matter, I still shoot him. The car goes crashing into the carrier and two other Spaniards get out and try to hit us, but I turn right into Carson Ave leaving them unsuccessful. A Primo tries to get us as we turn right, but I ram them off the road and they hit a bin. I then reverse up and we shoot the crap out those pretenders. Andri and I were pretty pleased. I think that was the last of them.

"Why wouldn't Skender be happy with us that we got something to ransom?" I ask Andri. He has known him for longer.
"Smirnov doesn't like it when people take initiative. He wants total control. Its like we're his pawns. He manipulates and controls people. Nobody suspects it though, cause he smiles to their faces the whole time. Smiles an awful lot too, looks like a freaking joker. I think people like him a lot more than they should. But behind that there is something worse." Andri replies as I turn left into Huntington Street from Stillwater Ave, staying close to Pete
"He has always been suspiciously friendly" I say while stroking my chin. "But I think you're paranoid Andy, calm down, don't take life so seriously." I tell him.

As we turn into Thornton Street, A Primo pops up besides us. I slam on the breaks, they came up beside us, I rammed them off the road relatively aggressively, but they just hit us harder. Andri gets a nasty shock and loses my Mini-SMG out the window. As we get into BOABA, they are so close that I simply stick my hand out the window and open their door. It isn't locked and just swings open. The passenger is exposed, so I take the opportunity to shoot him and the driver. I swing my hand out and the gun is so close I couldn't miss. The passenger leaned forward when he died so the driver was exposed too, who I cleanly finished off with a shot in the head. We were practically there when finished them off, so we just turn in to the driveway to the Platypus. I can see Skender standing there waiting for us. We both stop, and I see Skender talking to Pete. All around there were cargo being moved, cars put into storage and the like. It was a pretty busy place. Suddenly, Pete gets out of the GTS and Skender gets in and drives away. Pete approaches the window, so I roll it down.

"OK Otto, here is your share of the money, and here is your's Andri" He says as he hands us both bundles of cash.
"How much is it?" I ask him.
"About 1000 bucks each, so we got about 3000 altogether. He said you did a good job. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to take this car and I'll see you tomorrow night Otto." Me and Andri get out and wave at Pete as he drives off.
"Hey man, want to get a beer?" Andri asks me.
"Sure, why not." I say, and we walk onto the ship to the cabin to get a well deserved beverage.

AceRay
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#1964

Posted 10 October 2010 - 12:29 AM Edited by AceRay, 13 December 2011 - 09:08 AM.

I'm an impatient idiot, ignore this

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#1965

Posted 10 October 2010 - 08:20 AM

Please remove me from gambetti's, Thanks.

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#1966

Posted 10 October 2010 - 08:39 AM

And to where? *Hint* *Albanian Mob* *Hint*

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#1967

Posted 10 October 2010 - 08:42 AM

QUOTE (AceRay @ Oct 10 2010, 00:29)
lol, has anyone been on at all? I've been waiting for 5 or so freaking days. honestly. No wonder this game is dying the staff ain't dedicated. Now its the last day of the holidays and I still don't know how I did. argh. I mean has everyone forgot about this?

I think of quitting too. I want to make a concept thread now so REMOVE ME FROM THE MOB.

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#1968

Posted 10 October 2010 - 08:53 AM Edited by AceRay, 10 October 2010 - 08:57 AM.

I don't want to quit, this is an awesome game, its just that I wrote that giant f*cking story, and I've been waiting patiently for a review. its been 5 days. I'd expect someone to be on at least once every couple of days. Hell no am I quiting though. I've worked too hard for that. this does need to be rebooted though cos things cost way too much. As long as I get to keep my story though wink.gif

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#1969

Posted 10 October 2010 - 06:56 PM

QUOTE (AceRay @ Oct 10 2010, 00:29)
lol, has anyone been on at all?  I've been waiting for 5 or so freaking days. honestly. No wonder this game is dying the staff ain't dedicated. Now its the last day of the holidays and I still don't know how I did. argh. I mean has everyone forgot about this?

QUOTE (AceRay @ Oct 10 2010, 08:53)
I don't want to quit, this is an awesome game, its just that I wrote that giant f*cking story, and I've been waiting patiently for a review. its been 5 days. I'd expect someone to be on at least once every couple of days. Hell no am I quiting though. I've worked too hard for that. this does need to be rebooted though cos things cost way too much. As long as I get to keep my story though


The typical review cycle lasts about 1 month here. The last review was on the 12th September. I had planned on putting some time aside this evening to do some reviews, covering the grand total of four stories that have been posted in this period. This, of course, depends entirely on the free time available to a small number of volunteers. We have been on, and your story has been read. Just reviews are best handled in batches at a regular intervals.

If people have a problem with feedback times, I ask for them to speak up and request a different standard of review. Although, I would expect people to say something to the effect of “please may we have speedier feedback?”, not go “lol this place is sh*t ‘cos staff are”.

On the matter of the reboot, I would direct you squarely to Tyla’s post, which addresses the matter with greater acuity than any number of posters' have done so, and also takes the time to address new posters’ unwillingness to progress without hand-holding reviews 3 minutes after they post their story.

Perhaps you ought to exercise greater patience before insulting the people you are expecting to do something for you.

As you are so keen and ambitious however, would an abridged review please you for now?
A good story with an excellent and highly welcome length, unfortunately suffering from an unrefined application of the English language. Descriptions are clumsy and ‘waffling’. Events are confused by a lack of clarity in execution. However, the story is good with an introduction, complicating events and a resolution with enough loose ends to write another chapter. Ultimately: good effort, but requires further editing next time. You could sacrifice some length for a three-fold increase in quality quite easily.

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#1970

Posted 10 October 2010 - 07:15 PM

Maverick, there are plenty of keen writers out there, they're probably just anxious to write in case their stories don't get rated.

I suggest extra staff?

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#1971

Posted 11 October 2010 - 03:58 AM Edited by AceRay, 11 October 2010 - 05:54 AM.

lol, sorry. I guess thats what I was trying to say, but got a bit carried away. anyway, you're doing a good job here. Keep it up. I guess a little acknowledgment would be nice, so I know if anyone has read it.

I guess I said those things because I want to write chapter 2 soon, but I can't until I get a review from chapter 1, so I can, like, do it right with the constructive criticism and stuff. please forgive me!! This looks like an awesome game!(except it takes ages to buy stuff but who cares?)

and slingaa is mainly right

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#1972

Posted 11 October 2010 - 11:31 PM

Ignore this.

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#1973

Posted 11 October 2010 - 11:32 PM Edited by Build Up Your Gang, 11 October 2010 - 11:45 PM.

Review time. Said I would.

Mati1501
M.O.B | Native Engines Auto Parts | Prologue
$26 + $343 = $369
You have already voiced your desire to have your name removed, however I have chosen to review this anyway. If you still wish to leave, PM me or post to confirm and we’ll clear the property.
First, some necessary and unfortunate criticism. Script format is not in fashion here. Stories should be written in prose. Your character is best introduced through the narrative, and not by means of tabulated personality fields like ”Name: Victor Bourne”.
This is prose:
QUOTE
”Man, I can’t believe I ate all that cake,” said Stuart.

As opposed to script:
QUOTE
Stuart: Man, I can’t believe I ate all that cake.

Furthermore, your grammar is poor, but this might be an international thing. Am I correct that you’re Polish? Given this, it shall not be a factor in your rating, but please show greater diligence in the future if you wish to be involved.
A few hints:
Don’t make debts. You are in debt; as in you get into debt.
Name character’s for authenticity. A speaker called ? is a total waste. At least give an artificial name such as Bearded Guy.
Don’t type in numbers. Write the English word for them instead.
Be clear when you are talking in a narrative sense, to the audience, and when your characters’ are in conversation.
And never, ever, ever use the term I came on Big V again.
Otherwise, the story is pretty good and quite original. As a prologue it is quite encompassing of a few issues that gives some depth to your character. There could be a lot of mileage in this, and I would ask that you reconsider your decision to leave. If changes are forthcoming to this board, then I suspect so is a faster review turnover time. Don’t be dissuaded by your experience so-far.

Tyla
The Irish Mob | The Lucky Winkles | First Part of the Prologue (wtf? how long can it be?)
$49 + $2,036 = $2,085
Length: Wow, 3275 words. Awesome. And you know what? It was all BRILLIANT and totally engrossing. I’m sorry to everyone else, but I’ve not read anything of such complete quality apart from the work of Aragond. But, saying that, please don’t make me express a favourite!
Characters: two characters that are already massively grounded in GTA IV lore that it would be almost sacrilegious to do something out-of-character with them. Thankfully, you don’t. In fact, you capture their relationship more perfectly that the game ever could. Bucky Sligo dominates Derrick in a way that you would think he were the older and more senior man, when he’s just the more aggressive of the two in such a way as to impress upon Derrick the kind of relation a junky would be weak towards. A perfect piece of characterisation, and charming with a fleeting reference to Aiden thrown in there. Plus, Sligo is a great place to go drinking if you ever get the chance!
There are some fantastic language moments here (shaming me anyway, who seems to need two attempts at every word tonight).
QUOTE
He fondled the weapon he held as if it were the voluptuous curves of a woman, sticking it casually out of the window and taking aim at a girl walking past half cut from a binge at one of the clubs further down the row.

A great piece of imagery there. So visual, and also quite daring. There’s the double sexual imagery of voluptuous curves and a pissed-up and vulnerable club girl, juxtaposed entirely by the following sentence of how the ”resulting impact would’ve torn her in half”.
Again, on the language front, you capture an Irish accent very well:
QUOTE
“I told you we were heistin’ some dagos, what the f*ck does it matter which bunch of ‘em it was?

Wonderful. I realise in this that one major mistake I made in my own narrative of the Irish Mob was to drift too far from the interactions of the Irish themselves and become engrossed with pure action and events. Also, while on this sentence, as I feel that I am obliged to perform a thorough critique of your writing to pick all of the flaws out for you, you missed a closing quotation mark. Ha, complete sh*te!!

Tycek
The Lost MC | The Lost Clubhouse | Interlude One: The Dog in the Fog
$37 + $1,079 = $1,116
I picked the wrong night to do this. Another monster. Congrat’s on the length. Unfortunately, it drifts into waffle at times. Be cautious that, if you’re not on top of the quality at all times, it can quickly become too much writing.
On the matter of the story being about the cops: don’t worry. In fact I really like it. I suggest you don’t drop it. Perhaps you can, once you’re writing within the framework of the Lost MC, occasionally break-away to write a cop’s story. It would be bold and new, and really cool to see something so different. If, as was suggested earlier, head away from a gang-centric model then this type of creativity would be extremely welcome.
However, criticism begs, as it is the purpose of this review process. This whole piece lacks a certain flare. Again, I am mindful of language barriers but you’ve been posting here a while and I hope that you read this criticism as being supportive.
Lets have a look at an example:
QUOTE (Tycek)
He stood up from the chair and threw the newspaper to the trashcan. The paper cup also landed there splashing today’s newspaper with brown, cold liquid.

“They found six bodies on the top of multistory car park. Two of the bodies were belonging to our people. Two officers from Patrol Unit.”

"Let's go there and check it," Chris said grabbing his jacket form the backrest and they left the office.

QUOTE (Maverick)
He wrapped the newspaper around the polystyrene cup and threw both of them into the trash: the sickly brown liquid, now cold, splashing across the front page and seeping through the wire mesh of the bin.

“They found six bodies over at the multistory car park,” the Lieutenant said. “Sh*t, Chris, two of ‘em were our guys.”

“What?” responded Chris. “Come on, we’d better get over there.”

“Two guys from Patrol unit,” the young officer added, as they left the room.

See how I worked in a small amount of characterisation, giving accents and specific language (“sh*t”) to the conversation to identify speech. And also added a rank to one of the characters to remove any avoidable “facelessness”.
I can appreciate that such subtleties may seem incredibly hard to get right. Another example though may be your final sentence:
QUOTE
He looked by the window on the sunset, which heralded the coming of night, which covers the whole city like a big quilt.

The quilt is a better metaphor for comfort. for safety, and for childhood. It doesn’t fit the image of night that a cop would perceive. Perhaps the words “smothering” or “suffocating” might evoke a better response here.
Good work overall. I hope to see this go somewhere, particularly given the daring movement to show the other side of the law.

AceRay
Albanian Mob | Platypus | Chapter 1: Beneficial for everyone
$35 + $115 = $150
QUOTE (Maverick24 @ Oct 10 2010, 18:56)
A good story with an excellent and highly welcome length, unfortunately suffering from an unrefined application of the English language. Descriptions are clumsy and ‘waffling’. Events are confused by a lack of clarity in execution. However, the story is good with an introduction, complicating events and a resolution with enough loose ends to write another chapter. Ultimately: good effort, but requires further editing next time. You could sacrifice some length for a three-fold increase in quality quite easily.

So I covered some of this already, but still ratings deserve full attention whenever possible.
On a grammatical note, pay more attention to division of paragraphs. Line breaks should be present between separate speakers in every conversation. You leave gaps according to a rough and arbitrary narrative framework, not the principles of grammar.
There’s the occasional spelling mistake such as mustache, which should be moustache; and some occasions of apostrophes being misplaced. Overall, nothing to ruin your work however.
More seriously, there is a feel that this was rushed; perhaps written within a single sitting. I would recommend a more studious review of the next story, that I hope you will find the time to contribute.
Occasional you use a moment of personal reflection to interject attempts of humour. Here, you have to be extremely careful to get the tone and timing right as not to detract from the story with a misjudged remark. You don’t get this right particularly:
QUOTE
There was some crappy space sounding, well, sounds,

In fact, that whole paragraph was misjudged. Having a talk about “peeing your pants” doesn’t fit in the world of gangsters so well. It’s also not funny. So why bother with it?
There are occasional comments that detract from any sense of authenticity this story has; they remind a reader that it has emerged from a game-world. Writing here you should aim to find definition away from GTA the game, and immerse yourself with GTA the world and the social issues it deals with. Comments like this do nothing of the sort.
QUOTE
I open fire with my Mini SMG, making sure that I don't hit the GTS because the more damage it sustains, the less it is worth.

On this matter, your description of combat is very matter-of-fact. “I shot him in the head” makes it sound too easy, and not the kill-or-be-killed scramble for supremacy that gang wars are.
Overall, still a good effort and an enjoyable read. I hope you will take this criticism on board and find the time to still contribute. Even if you’re back at school/college/whatever, the occasional constructive writing is a very good way to take a break from study without just plugging into video games and switching-off. Take it from someone who has just exited a (very long) period in academia.

Ratings by Maverick24

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#1974

Posted 12 October 2010 - 07:42 AM

@BUYG: Yes, Im leaving. I want to care more about my concept thread now. And Im not such a good writer blush.gif

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#1975

Posted 13 October 2010 - 10:25 PM Edited by Tyla, 13 October 2010 - 10:28 PM.

Thank you very much for the review icon14.gif

QUOTE
(wtf? how long can it be?)


I don't know!

I'm thinking a chapter or two set in Manchester, possibly, plus one or two in Ireland before refocusing and relocating back to Liberty City again. I really want to show the rotting of the elder generation of McRearys and how circumstances end up effecting the two younger brothers and their associates. It could span several different "acts" and make for the introduction of a lot of faces from all levels. I'm pleased you liked it.

I liked the proposal of a more writer centric style to this topic on the previous page too. I think it makes a lot of sense, is styled well, and hopefully a couple of other people could give it a look over and eventually introduce it. Regardless of whether or not it increases activity, if it makes writing here better then I'm all for it.

A question about the Oracle in red . Is it unlocked after twenty stories in total have been written by writers past and present for a gang or after the story counts of all the current writers add up to twenty? I wondered this when I wrote for the Pavanos, because I think we were one story off a total of twenty, and now I wonder the same about the Irish who surely have had over twenty stories written for them.

mati, I had Bucky Sligo and Derrick McReary down for a concept thread of my own and writing stories about them actually helps when it comes to the content of your concept too. Maybe doing the same could benefit you? Just sayin'.

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#1976

Posted 13 October 2010 - 10:32 PM

QUOTE (Tyla @ Oct 13 2010, 22:25)
I'm thinking a chapter or two set in Manchester, possibly, plus one or two in Ireland before refocusing and relocating back to Liberty City again.

Please do this, so long as you're not going to blow the Arndale up! Are you from Manchester too?
QUOTE
A question about the Oracle in red . Is it unlocked after twenty stories in total have been written by writers past and present for a gang or after the story counts of all the current writers add up to twenty? I wondered this when I wrote for the Pavanos, because I think we were one story off a total of twenty, and now I wonder the same about the Irish who surely have had over twenty stories written for them.

I'm not certain on this one, but I used the Oracle myself when I wrote at the Lucky Winkles so go ahead.

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#1977

Posted 13 October 2010 - 10:51 PM

I'm from the Midlands originally and I've never actually been to Manchester. Looking into the IRA for the stories I read that they did business with some figures from Manchester involving weapons... so I thought I'd explore it. I'm not going to blow anything up!

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#1978

Posted 14 October 2010 - 06:21 AM

thanks for the review, it was awesome. whens the next one?
Does the combat pistol count as a weapon below $150?

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#1979

Posted 19 October 2010 - 03:35 AM

QUOTE (AceRay @ Oct 14 2010, 16:21)
thanks for the review, it was awesome. whens the next one?
Does the combat pistol count as a weapon below $150?

Um, how can you ask when is the next review if you haven't written your next story? Dude!
The next rating will be whenever there is sufficient stories to rate (or time has passed that makes it too unfair to delay rating one or two stories), and Staff have the time, then a rating will appear. But, afaik, there's been no stories since the ratings, so no rating is due.
Ratings are reactive (to stories posted), not on a preset schedule.

To wit, Aceray, just post stories (sure, not more than one a day) as you don't wait for them to get rated before writing the next.

As for the combat pistol, bada-bing, yes, it counts as a weapon "under" $150. How do I know? Because I was the beneficiary of a previous Staff's declaring it to be so for me. Staff thereafter will not quibble over a single dollar. Same goes for the cars under $500.

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#1980

Posted 27 October 2010 - 08:21 AM

hey guys, its me. Chapter 2 is underway, its nearly finished, but I have a question. I've earned $35 right? well, can I spend $15 of my $35 on a pool cue and a knife? I know I haven't written 5 stories yet, but I'm not spending anyone else money. I'm also not a fan of baseball bats.




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