BUYG: Build Up Your Gang
Posted 01 November 2008 - 02:19 PM
Also, $$Smith, who are you on GameFAQs? Mark and Phusion (better known as Viva69 and Angelo_Leone on GameFAQs) told me how PaulieRomanov (Mark used his GTA Forums username as a GameFAQs user name) was a banned member on this forum and he created the GameFAQs BUYG out of spite. He has another account known as GTAhomie, whom he claims as his brother, but after what Mark told me about him, I don't know if that is his brother or not. Granted their vocabulary and writing styles were completely different, but I'm really not sure.
Posted 01 November 2008 - 02:28 PM Edited by $$Smith, 01 November 2008 - 03:24 PM.
The reason why I made the suggestion for BUYG with real gangs was the same as puffin's. We had it on GameFAQs and it got closed (Maybe PaulieRomanov was banned from GameFAQs?), I liked that topic a lot, but from what's going on here, I realize that might not be an option to post it here. So I'll just stick to this BUYG.
Posted 01 November 2008 - 03:44 PM
P.S- If so could we please buy a knife and molotovs.
P.S.S- Please cut me a little slack becasue I'm only 12.
Posted 01 November 2008 - 03:57 PM
Posted 01 November 2008 - 04:24 PM Edited by puffinslaughter, 01 November 2008 - 10:07 PM.
UPDATE-Changed my mind, I'm not totally quitting, I'm just changing gangs. I've ran out of ideas for the Sindaccos, so I will change gangs. I just need to think of a gang to join. I want it in Liberty City, that's all I want. It can be any gang. Suggestions are welcome. I wont be able to post often, but I will post as much as I can once I get some ideas going. I might post a few Sindacco stories, maybe three or four, but they won't be much, if anything, they'll be practice stories. Decent stories nontheless, but nothing too big.
Posted 01 November 2008 - 06:58 PM
|QUOTE (Build Up Your Gang @ Oct 26 2008, 11:30)|
You may or may not have been active on the SA BUYG topic, but it is slowly beginning to die, I think. So, we've decided to sned PMs to all the writers asking for them to drop by and post letting us know that you're still active, and follow it up with a story a while later.
Signatures are also back so, if you like, you can put 'em in your signature and try get some more members.
Much love, and don't forget to drop by the new topic in the San Andreas section.
You guys were upset because of the inactivity, now people are defecating all over the topic.
OT:Sorry I haven't been on in a while, school+Work=No time. I working on my stories again.
Posted 02 November 2008 - 12:11 AM
@Puffin: $33, very good for a first story.
@Roloing: Added, but you are on probation. One strike and your out of here, we'll help you as much we can, just due to recent circumstances you can't be too careful.
$$mith: You'll just have to use a Colt as your gun, you can only use guns that your gang has purchased. It shouldn't be too bad, theres not much of a difference between handguns anyway.
Posted 02 November 2008 - 01:24 AM
I awoke sprawled out across Salvatore’s sofa, a few silk sheets thrown over myself and a glass of water placed neatly on the table to my side. I reacher out to the table with all my strength and grasped the cup and flushed it around my teeth and tongue. Salvatore walked into the room and sat in a chair near me.
“Good morning Johnny.” Salvatore said.
“Like wise.” I replied stretching up from the sofa.
“If you’re wondering how the hell you got sheets it’s because I took the liberty of bringing you them.” Salvatore said as I tossed my coat on, “Where are you off to now?” Salvatore asked in a concerned tone as I headed to the door.
“I have to do work for some guy I met the other day. I’m exchanging my work for information on Mitch’s killer.” I replied.
“Johnny do you have to work for some pr*ck who says he has information today? I need your help with some business. You haven’t helped with anything since Mitch died and might I add you are a made man now John!” Salvatore nagged.
“Fine.” I sighed, “What’s up?”
“The Forellis have a head honcho bringing some good back form Vice City today. He’ll be arriving off the Portland docks’ shore in a sports boat.” Explained Salvatore as he passed me a sniper rifle and some extra clip out of his gun cabinet, “You’re gonna take him out.”
“Another hit man job Sal? Consider it done.” I assured him as I exited the mansion and headed to the docks.
Soon after I arrived at the docks. The sweet air of the shore filled my lungs as I settled down near the edge of the docks and took my rifle out. As I sat there quietly waiting, I heard something next to me. I swung around anxiously with my gun grasped in my arms and discovered a group of three Triads picking up the bodies of the men I killed last night. I quickly took aim at one of the men and shot him in the back of the head. He fell lifelessly to the ground and the other men ripped their pistols out of their coats. They looked in all directions where the shot had come form, but I was quick and took them all out. Their bodies laid in a heap when I walked over. I took the bodies one by one and heaved them down into the bay and watched as the corpses sunk like anchors deep into the water.
Just as I finished off the rest of my cleaning I heard a motor humming off the coast and I sprinted over to my rifle and took aim in the direction of the noise. In slight fog, a speedy sport boat arrived with many boxes of what I assumed to be cocaine. The boat came to shore further down the docks as I got the gangsters in sight. I pulled down on the trigger and watched the flip over the edge of the boat into the water, dead. The guards spotted me as I ran with all my energy back to my car and hopped inside. I took off like a bullet down the highway as the group of bodyguards hijacked a van and tore after me.
We tore in a line up the highway as we returned fire back and forth. Bullets smashed into my back windshield and into my car’s interior as I tried to keep control of my car and not end up dead at my steering wheel. The men behind me had their minds set on killing me because they kept shooting aimlessly at me. I leaned out my window shooting behind my vehicle and I successfully popped one of the vans tires and they began spinning out of control. I watched behind me as they spun backwards into the bay and drowned in the vehicle bellow the waves. I pulled up at the mansion and entered to see Salvatore chatting with a group of Leones at the bar desk. As I approached them Salvatore smirked at me. “Back so soon?” He said with a grin.
“What you think it would take me longer to kill a little p*ssy Forelli?” I chuckled as Salvatore poured me a small glass of rum.
“Johnny that man you started working for called, how the f*ck did he get this number?” Salvatore asked.
“I’m not sure. I’m beginning to think he’s some crooked cop.” I said taking a sip of my drink.
“Crooked cop? I wouldn’t be surprised, there’s many of those around Liberty City these days.” Salvatore explained, “Be careful though Johnny, these cops will f*ck anyone over to earn a few bucks. Make sure he hold up his end of the deal.” Salvatore stressed.
“I will.” I agreed, “But for now let’s have a drink.”
Posted 02 November 2008 - 01:26 AM Edited by puffinslaughter, 02 November 2008 - 03:02 AM.
Update-I'd like to purchase molotov cocktails and a hunting rifle. Also, I'm not a Sony fanboy, but the character of Julia Garo is. I decided to have a female protagonist because it's unheard of, yet possible in the Italian Mafia (unlike the Triads, Yakuza, or many Latino street gangs, where women aren't allowed at all)
CHAPTER I-Meet Julia Garo
I awoke from a horrid dream. I dreamt that my brother Wolfgang came home to my house, only to be attacked by zombies. For some strange reason, I was still in college.
That was a falsehood. Zombies don't exist and my brother has been dead for two years. He was killed in a shooting over in Prickle Pine. Police never found the killer. After college, I tried getting a job as a game designer. But I could only get a job at the local GameStop, dealing with Microsoft fanboys and Wiitards bashing the underrated Playstation 3. Xbox 360 was good, but Halo was it's only stand-out game, and Wii just plain out sucked. But what did it matter? I'm twenty-six years old, with a college degree, and I'm selling video games for a living! I'm a loser and I know it.
If only I could work for a game company......
But every so often, I'd indulge in the night life. I'd play a round or two of blackjack, get wasted, and get laid, usually with my on-and-off boyfriend Sota. He, like me, went to college, but ended up working at a dead-end job. He studied physics and literature in Greenglass College, only to end up working at Dairy Queen. Life kicked our asses. That's why we love each other so much. We have so much in common. We're both immigrants, him being Japanese, and me being Italian. And we're both big-time gamers and anime fans.
Sota gave me a call to meet him over at the house by midnight. But I decided to go over to the High Roller to gamble and get drunk.
The High Roller was the best casino in Las Venturas. There were better ones before it, but they were closed. Caligula's Palace was sold to a corporation and demolished in 2001 when the owner was murdered in Liberty City. The Four Dragons was repossesed by the police in 2003 when the owner, Wu Zi Mu, was busted on drug and racketeering charges connected to the Triads in San Fierro.
I walked over into the brightly-lit casino. The blackjack tables were crowded, so I went over to the bar.
"Bartender, I'd like a Romanov Cocktail."
The Romanov Cocktail, named after the Molotov Cocktail and the last royal family of Russia, was a combination of vodka and Mountain Dew. It tasted very sweet, yet it had a burning aftertaste. I felt a buzz, drank some more, and when my vision was blurred and I started screaming obscenities, the bartender called a cab.
About two or three hours later, the cab came. The bouncer, a burly, broad shouldered Sicilian, guided me to the parking lot. He placed me into the back and paid the cabbie. My vision was clearing up and I heard the cabbie speak.
"Thank you. Hey, Vinnie, I know this girl. She used to go to college with me. I'll drive her over."
My mind clicked. "Vinnie? That was the name of the mafioso in my dream!" and then I realized that my old friend Chet was driving me home.
"Julia, I heard you were getting wild in the bar. You beat up Billy Two-Shoes! Anyone that can not only stand up to him, but also beat his ass down is truly a person to respect. Vinnie said to meet him at the High Roller on Saturday."
My mind had gone blank. I had drank so much that I didn't remember anything. My body ached and I looked at my face in the rear-view mirror. My eye was black. I was dropped off at my house.
There was Sota, lying on the bed in his boxer shorts. Sota had slightly long hair, a hairless body, a feminine face, and was prettier than most girls. He looked cute, and he was a nice person. He looked at me with a worried look.
"What happened to your eye?"
"I got into a fight. I won, and I'm okay. This black eye's the worst thing that happened to me."
We went to bed and slept like babies. I awoke in the morning and turned the TV on.
The News Reporter said in his monotone voice...
"Las Venturas celebrates the opening of the Emerald Isle Casino in east Venturas tomorrow. The casino is owned by three men: Henry Hellsing, Sasuke Tokugawa, and Thomas Vercetti. The Emerald Isle Casino has a medieval Celtic theme and is projected to succeed well, possibly becoming the next Caligula's Palace. In other news, after seven years, the skeletal remains of billionaire Donald Love was found in a tunnel in Liberty City. Police are baffled, but the words "DARKEL LIVES" was written on the wall behind him. Also, the FBI has caught wanted criminal Claude Speed. Speed, who has been a fugitive for seven years following a string of murders whose victims included crime figureheads Salvatore Leone, Catalina Vialpando, Asuka Kasen, and Kenji Kasen, was found hiding in a cabin in Bone County. He will be held for trial in Las Venturas on Monday."
Back in the day, before he was shot, Wolfie told me stories about the Yakuza in Liberty City. He told of Claude Speed, the Kasen siblings, and the rumors about Sasuke Tokugawa. I knew that something was up. The mob was returning to Las Venturas.
Posted 02 November 2008 - 01:41 AM
Expect a story from me over the next couple of days, I'll still be around.
Posted 04 November 2008 - 12:56 AM
Posted 04 November 2008 - 08:42 AM
|QUOTE ($$Smith @ Nov 4 2008, 08:56)|
|I wonder if I can make a character profile. I did that back on GameFAQs BUYG. I'm going to propably do it, but I don't know if you make a profile or desribe your character in your stories only.|
What would be the point of? The staff won't rate your profile or give you money for it, so it's better if you just described your character in your story. Or, you could have a profile in the same post as a new story. If you really feel like doing it though, go for it, there's no harm.
Posted 04 November 2008 - 03:27 PM Edited by $$Smith, 04 November 2008 - 07:43 PM.
Tattoos: One on his back which reads "DaOriginalBlackBalla$OG" With an uzi beside it
Description:Average height, a little too skinny, has slight anger issues, no muscle, loves being a gangsta, rolls with da Front Yard Ballas hangin' 'round the Crackhouse.
Back story: Ever since the 50s, Riley's family tradition was to be a Balla. His gradfather was the founder of the Ballas, who married his grandma who was Balla property, who had 5 kids that they raised to stand up for the neighborhood of Idlewood. One of the kids was Riley's father, Kane. He was the leader of the Ballas between 1988-1992, who was killed by some Groves at a funeral in 1992. Riley's mom raised him and his twin brother Deanthony, to be Ballas. At the age of 13, the two of them went around pickpocketting and mugging people for money to help both the Front Yard and Rollin' Heights Ballas. They also performed B&Es together. Riley and DeAnthony are 18 now, it's time to finally kill a Grove punk.
I would like to buy the 45cal Colt 1911 for the Ballas.
Posted 04 November 2008 - 08:46 PM
Posted 04 November 2008 - 09:00 PM Edited by puffinslaughter, 04 November 2008 - 09:09 PM.
Also, the Sindacco story arc would include the deaths of Tommy Vercetti, Kent Paul, Ken Rosenburg, Madd Dogg, Claude Speed, Darkel, and James Earl Cash. I was going to make it a tragedy where everyone dies and it would extend all over San Andreas and even into Carcer City and Vice City. And I'm not sure if we can kill off game characters in this BUYG. We could in Paulie's over at GameFAQs, but I'm not sure about here.
Long story short, it was too unrealistic.
Posted 04 November 2008 - 09:09 PM
Posted 04 November 2008 - 09:14 PM
|QUOTE (WelcomeToLibertyCity @ Nov 4 2008, 23:09)|
|I believe you must have atleast 5 stories for the gang you're in before you can switch guys, and also how come us members get active then the staff get inactive?|
I don't think that should exist. And Roloing, if you want to takeover Hepburn Heights then feel free to, because I'm dropping out, and I'm saying it again, it's official!
Posted 04 November 2008 - 11:38 PM
Posted 05 November 2008 - 01:27 AM Edited by $$Smith, 05 November 2008 - 01:30 AM.
Today was a good day, November 1st 2008, me and my brother's 18th birthday. I took a shower and got dressed. I wore a white long sleeve shirt, a purple football jersey, a pair of loose black jeans, and my black hi-tops. My mom was getting together some homies to beat me into the gang. My brother DeAnthony, who was tall, strong, muscular, and had really short hair, was sneaking a little alcohol from the kitchen to help deal with things. We walked outside of our house to the nearest alleyway, (where 5 Ballas were waiting on us), to get fully initiated. The Ballas were checking for anybody performing a quick drive-by as we walked across the street. When I got there, a short Balla with a baseball bat told me, "Hey kids, I hear that y'all kids wanna be Front Yard Ballas. Well all I know is that gang-bangin' aint no damn walk in da park biotch. I just need one answer, are you willing to get beat down for us Ballas? Are ya ready to get arrested for da Ballas, and even get killed or maimed"
I answered quickly while DeAnthony hesitated, "Yeah, you know it homie!"
The man then said, "A'ight, stand up straight so we can get you in. I'm Dean Jefferson, but just call me Blooddrop."
The other Ballas whispered upon each other quietly laughing. One of them walked up to me and said while trying to sound tough, "A'ight, one at a time, we'll beat ya down for 30 seconds each. If you still want to be Balla after that, you belong homie."
I was first. They crouded around me and began to shove me back in forth, slightly disorienting me. Suddenly I felt fists constantly pounding me all over, I fell to the ground. They began kicking me while I was on the ground. I was out of breath and felt tired. While kicking me, I heard counting. I almost cried from the pain, but I held it in because I really wanted to be a Balla. I finally heard, "30". I was safe. They helped me back to my feet, hugging me and shaking my hand. Next was DeAnthony's turn. He got the same beating as me, but however took it better than me. After that, we told them our names and addresses. Blooddrop decided to be our mentor.
He took us to a big hang out spot at a crackhouse in Idlewood and gave us a vehicle. We knew that because of our family history, the Ballas would treat us with respect. It was a black, 1987 Majestic, in good condition. But before we left, Blooddrop had to tell us something.
"Hey my two mutha f*ckin' homies, I need a lil' favor. There is a Balla that is sellin' information out to the Groves. They expect us to cap him, but y'all are perfect. Take off all of your purples and give'm to me. I'll give them back to you after you kill him." He handed DeAnthony a groccery bag full of money and told him, "Give that nigga some money in exchange for 7 rocks of crack," he pointed at me and continued, "While you take this bat and cross it ova his piece of sh*t head."
I drove over to where the guy Blooddrop described was selling base and meth. I parked the car and let DeAnthony do his part. I followed him holding my bat. The man wore a long trench coat with plenty of pockets. He asked us with a sly voice, "Hey y'all, want the stuff that'll make ya cry? I got some rock and meth. Whutcha need bruthas?"
DeAnthony grabbed the bag with $250 in it, and handed it to the dealer saying, "I need 7 buckeyes from pure caine."
The dealer reached into his pockets, not paying attention to anything going on around him. As he did that, I whacked him aside the head with my bat. Me and DeAnthony began beating him senselessly until dead. DeAnothny pocketted the money for himself, as I grabbed the drugs for the Ballas at the crackhouse.
We drove back and handed B-drop the drugs. He said that we could keep any money we found. We returned to the house and told mom what had happened. She told us to shut up, as she popped some LSD. I ordered pizza with soda. Me and De just chilled out the rest of the day.
Posted 05 November 2008 - 01:37 PM
Your 2nd story: $34. Nice work, you're really improving. PM me if you want detailed, thorough feedback. Hunting Rifle and Molotovs purchased.
Roloing: okay you've been switched.
$$Smith: $33, good job describing the 'induction' scene.
Also, Mark-2007's Money was not given last Sunday, so the $80 has been made up for. Added $80 to the Vagos account.
And regarding last week's confiscations..
On the weekend of October 31, a majority of the gangs in the San Andreas / Vice City / Liberty City area dressed up as clowns and ghouls, scaring each other in the daytime and raiding rival gang houses of candy at night. With such activity going on in the gang scene, police patrol was obviously unneeded, and the routine weekly drugs scans that the police departments perform were abolished for the week. Instead, members of the police departments went back to their houses and participated in Trick or Treat games with their young ones.
Thanks reading, radicell.
Posted 05 November 2008 - 02:30 PM Edited by puffinslaughter, 07 November 2008 - 02:33 AM.
Also, I'd like to buy a Colt .45 for the Diablos.
CHAPTER I-Give Me Liberty
My name is Sota Makoto. I was born in Liberty City in 1990, of Japanese origin, my parents being from Hokkaido. I lived my whole life in Newport, near the Callahan Bridge. My life was an ordinary life. I lived with my parents, Koji and Yuki Makoto, and my nine-year old sister Reiko.
My parents were young, my father was thirty-five and my mother thirty-three. They were good, honest people. But they had made some deals with the Yakuza. The Oyabun, Asuka Kasen, had loved my parents. But in 2001, she was murdered by Colombian Cartel. So, the Yakuza was now headed up by a scumbag named Sasuke Tokugawa. He was a shifty man and was extremely paranoid. The Yakuza was losing ground to the Yardies and Leone Family. And times were harsh for everyone. You couldn't trust anybody. And that is what started it all.
Sasuke Tokugawa wanted to get the Yakuza into hard drugs. Before that, they didn't deal anything harder than weed. But my father was opposed to the drug trade, he, like the Leones in Portland and the old Yakuza regime before that, believed that hard drugs were a business too dirty even for a Yakuza tribe. And that caused a rift between the Yakuza and my family that would change everything forever.
Friday, November 20th, 2008. A day I'll never forget....
I was returning home from school. I reached my house and saw men in blue suits drive off in one of those red and gray Stingers. I walked into my house. It was eerily quiet and I shouted "ANYBODY HOME?"
There was no answer. I walked upstairs. Then I saw a sight of inconcievable horror. My father, lying dead in a pool of his own blood, his eyes blank and his shirt dyed vermillion. I looked for Mom, and I entered another room. Outside the bathroom door was my little sister, sopping wet, lying face-down, butt-naked in a pool of blood, clenching a bloody towel.
I realized it was a hit. That bastard Tokugawa whacked my family. But I heard a comforting voice. A female voice full of tears and a Japanese accent. It was my mom. I turned around to see Mom, beautfiul Mom, with her hair flowing freely and wearing her beige linen nightgown. Her face was puffed up and her eyes were watery. She hugged me tightly and laid me down on the bed.
She said "Sota, the Yakuza made a hit on us. Your father hid me in the closet. Reiko was taking a bath and since the Yakuza used silencers, she had no idea what was going on. She went outside to get her clothes and was gunned down by the Yakuza. I heard her piercing screams. At least I still have you. I need you to come with me. We can't call the cops, I'm a Yakuza associate, I even have the tattoos and everything. Pack your stuff, we're spending the night in a motel in Hepburn Heights. The cops will find out, but we don't own any guns and they can trace the bullets, so we'll be cleared."
I asked her "Why?"
She said "Because your father was a man of honor and stood up against the Yakuza's new Oyabun, the disgraceful Sasuke Tokugawa. One day, he'll get what's coming to him. But first, we must hide. From there, we can grieve and heal."
I cried for what seemed to be an hour. But I packed my clothes and some of my stuff, and we got in Mom's car, driving across the Callahan Bridge. We finally reached Portland, but there was light traffic. I later found out that there was an Italian Culture Festival in St. Mark's. But I didn't care about that. I just suffered a massive loss. We finally reached Hepburn Heights. The small motel was across from a massive apartment complex. The motel was a one-story building with a fifteen-foot tall sign that read "PORTLAND INN" in bright royal blue letters. Mom bought the room and the attendant guided us to the room. It was Room 25, the last room in the tiny motel. We entered the room. It was a plain, nearly blank room, with off-white walls, and plain oak nightstands and drawers. There was only one bed. Mom and I both laid down on the bed, crying endlessly for our loss. Mom cuddled me like a child cuddles a teddy-bear and she whispered in my ear "Don't worry, I know someone that can protect us."
The next morning, I awoke to find the bed empty. But the door opened to reveal Mom with a bag from Burger Shot. She had gotten breakfast and behind her was a tall Hispanic man wearing denim and a cap with a crown and the words "DIABLOS" written on it.
As I ate my sausage biscuit, Mom said "The Diablos hate the Yakuza and will protect us, this gentleman is their leader, King Zeus. He wants to talk to you."
King Zeus gestured that I come over. We went outside into the parking lot and he said "Kid, I heard about what the Yakuza did to your family. We'd like to put you in our gang."
I was baffled. I immediately interjected "But I'm not a Latino!"
King Zeus said "Listen, being a Diablo isn't about being Chicano or not. It's about resisting oppression. We have white Diablos, black Diablos, and even an Arab Diablo, my ese. Normally an initiation would require a beating. But in your case, after what you've been through, you'll just be princed in."
"What does princed in mean?"
He replied "It means you just have to take an oath. Meet me at the Pay-N-Spray tomorrow."
Posted 05 November 2008 - 08:21 PM
Liberty City, 2006.
"Our family's downfall started in 1986, when my uncle and Don, Sonny Forelli was murdered," boomed Marty Forelli as he sipped the martini I made him.
"Then in 1992 our underboss Giorgio Forelli was murdered in Marco's Bistro. Finally to top it all off the new don, Franco Forelli, was killed in 1998." Marty took another sip and said: "Tonight, my brothers, dawns a new era for the Forelli Family. I propose we rise back to power, and become the greatest family in Liberty City once again!" The few men that there were, arose from their seats and cheered for Marty.
He waltzed back to the bar followed by some Forelli men.
"That was quite a speech Don Forelli. What can I get you?" I asked, smiling for my life.
"Thanks..." He glanced at my name-tag. "Johnny. I'll have another gorgeous Martini and the same for Mickey, Angelo and Daffney please my good man."
"Coming right up, sir." Don Forelli was such a nice man. Quite a change from other Dons. He is quite plump and short, with black, slicked-over hair. He is covered with jewles and has a few freckles.
Suddenly came a loud bang. The door flew back and in ran a few men armed with pistols and baseball bats.
"Sh*t! Sindacco's!" shouted a Forelli, diving for cover. I got behind the bar and took the double-barrel shotgun from under the table. I took aim at a Sindacco holding a baseball bat beating the crap out of Mike. I fired at his legs, and the immense power of the shotgun blew one off. He fell down screaming, and Mike whipped out his pistol and shot him right between the eyes. Then a Sindacco man took me down with a knife pressed against my neck. Sweating, I grabbed a champagne bottle and smashed it over his head with champagne spilt all over me. I took his knife and ran to protect the Don. I saw a sniper nested on the roof, aiming for the don. I tackled him down, and the sniper's bullet missed and hit a Sindacco man behind him. Swiftly, I threw my knife at him, which hit him squarely in the heart.
Don Forelli got up and brushed himself off.
"You saved my life..." said Marty, in shock. "Thankyou."
"No problem, sir." I replied.
"How would you like to do some dirty work for us? You are an amazing fighter."
"I would be honoured, Don Forelli."
And there began my journey with the Forelli Family through the Liberty City underworld.
Posted 07 November 2008 - 02:34 AM
My cell phone loudly rang on my dash board as I was driving around Portland. I snatched off the dash and flipped it open, the shiny screen lit up the car and showed that it was my unknown employer calling. “Hello?” I answered the call.
“Johnny, how have you been? Been awhile., hope you haven’t forgot about me.” The voice answered smartly.
“It’s been two days.” I answered confused, “How can anybody forget about their friend’s killer that quickly?”
“Watch your mouth!” The voice snapped back, “I have some information for you. It seems that not only is your friend’s murderer a high ranking member from the Sindacco family, but he also has links within the Leones. Seems there’s a snitch among the Leone family.” He explained.
“I thought for a moment who it could be, I knew it wasn’t Salvatore so it must have been someone I met within the family in my earlier days of being a member. My thoughts were cut short because the man began speaking again.
“Anyways I’ll be out of town for a day or two in Vice City. I’ll call you with another job when I return.” he said.
“Alright I’ll speak with you then.” I replied hanging up my phone. In almost an instant after I closed my cell, it rang again. This time it was Salvatore calling. I found that quite strange because Salvatore usually only calls my in the mornings or afternoons with jobs, so this must have been either really good or really bad. I soon found out which one it was.
“Johnny? Oh thank god you answered! Something’s wrong, I need you to come to the mansion as soon as possible.” Salvatore said quickly and nervously to me before hanging up. I was Close by the docks when I got the call. My foot fell on the brakes as if it were a hunk of lead, and I tore off in my car towards the mansion.
I arrived at the mansion a few minutes later and sprinted inside. I found Salvatore there with four Leone men. He looked pale yet very angered. “Sal what’s wrong?” I asked.
“Johnny, it’s my son Joey. The f*cking c*ck sucking bastards got him and they have him hostage down at their Bitchin’ Dog Food warehouse. They said they had no choice but to kill him. I need you a my men to go down there and get him back, turn those Sindaccos into the dog food!” Salvatore hollered as he tossed us a few MP5s and M4s, “Make me proud Johnny!” He said as I ushered the other Leones to my car. We accelerated into the night, drifting with precision between each car down the highway. I explained to the other Leones my plan. I told them we’d go around back and kill the guards. We’d then split into two groups of two and go around each side of the building. After that, we’d kill the front guards and rush in. Using the M4s we’d wipe out the remaining troops. The last Leone would be waiting outside with my car. Upon rescuing Joey, we’d high tail it out of there and get back to Salvatore’s. The other Leones agreed that it was a good plan and as we arrived, we began taking our positions.
Getting rid of the back guards was a breeze. A quick pull of my trigger and they were on the ground looking like bloody Swiss cheese. When we arrived at the front of the building, we surprised the guards at front. We came in on both sides as planned and killed them on the spot. Inside there were more Sindaccos then I expected which was a big mistake for me. When we rushed inside, the Sindaccos were ready and got one of the Leones. He fell the ground in a puddle of crimson blood. I quickly jumped behind some cover and luckily so did the other Leones. I leaned out and took a shot at on of the Sindaccos guarding Joey. I hit him directly above his right eye and he fell to the ground letting a shot out of his gun, which accidently got his friend in the face., but that was good for me, killed two birds with one stone. The Leones were doing miraculously well. They got most of the Sindaccos down, except for the sniper who was balancing on one of the roof’s many support beams. I shot him in the foot and with a screaming thud, he smashed against the floor dead on the spot. We hurried over to Joey who looked to be fine. We quickly raced to my car, tossed him in the back and sped off back to Salvatore’s mansion.
When we arrived, Salvatore was anxiously awaiting our arrival. He was extremely pleased to see him back alive and well. “Joey my boy!” He gasped as he ran over giving Joey a large hug, “I’m glad to see your ok.”
“I’m fine dad thank you. Seems your friend here is quite the killer.” Joey said as he gave me a nod, “Thanks for saving my *ss back there.” He thanked me.
“My pleasure.” I said with a smile, “Couldn’t have done it without these fine men by my side.” I said gesturing towards the other Leones. Salvatore kissed their hand and thanked them. Salvatore then exited the room to make us some celebratory drinks. “So what’s your name?” Joey asked me curiously.
“Johnny, a new made man to the family.” I replied.
“Oh congratulations, it’s nice to see some good workers in this family.” Joey said, “Listen, if you ever need a bit of extra ash I gotta few jobs I need done.” Joey said.
“Sure, I’ll be in touch.” I answered as Salvatore walked back in the room with a tray of drinks. He handed them out to each of use and we held our drinks in the air for a toast. “To Johnny, for saving my sons life!” Salvatore said gratefully as we sat there in the mansion, and drank the night away.
Posted 07 November 2008 - 08:21 AM
Varios Las Aztecas: Chapter 2: Intimidation
Five days. Five days since the riots in Willowfield and the surrounding areas, five days since I killed for the first time, five days since Angelo, Marcus, Maria and I made a stand in Angelo's tattoo parlour. After four days, the Infected had nearly overwhelmed us before a special unit, armed with high-powered automatic weaponry, saved us and set up road blocks to keep our recently "liberated" area safe from remaining infected.Now, Willowfield was occupied by a small army of police, SWAT teams and Infected Eradication Teams like the ones that had saved our lives.
I awoke next to Maria at about five-thirty. Her black hair was messed up from tossing and turning in her sleep and fighting Infected. I looked at the mirror next to my bed and saw that I wasn't doing much better. I was still wearing the blood stained clothes I had been wearing for the past few days. I heard Maria’s awakening yawn and walked over to her. “Good morning,” she whispered.
“Hey. How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Like s#!t. I just can’t get the continual shootings and bludgeonings out of my head. Rivers of blood, lakes of the stuff…” Her voice trailed off and she looked like she was about to cry. When she recovered, we heard Angelo and Marcus walking around. Maria went out to eat and I got changed into a white shirt, black jacket and jeans. I then joined the others for breakfast.
At eight-thirty, Raoul, a veteran and friend of mine who lived in El Corona, rang me. “Ese, the cops raided my the day before the Infection. They’ve arrested me for the killing of a Balla Drug Dealer. I’m looking at a life sentence, holmes!” Raoul said pleadingly. I asked him if I could help. Whispering conspiratorially, he told me that three of the witnesses lived in Willowfield. I was to “persuade” them that they didn’t see the killing, or in the case of one of them, hear the gunshot. “Be careful, as one of them is licensed to carry a gun. Don’t kill her just make sure she can’t get the gun out,” he told me. I then left to talk to the witnesses.
I found the first one pretty easily as he was a regular at the boxing gym at Ganton, where I occasionally trained. I got him as he was walking out. I punched him in the stomach, kneed him in the chest, took him to the ground and pulled out my gun. He was pretty co-operative after meeting Mr. .45. The second one, who lived just a block away, was less co-operative. I had to knock him out, tie him up and take a lighter to his balls before he agreed that he didn’t see anything. “I know where you live, ese, remember that!” I yelled as I left.
The final witness was harder to find, but I found her leaving a funeral. I snuck up on her as she got into her car and put my Colt to the back of her head and toom the safety off. She thrust a fist into my groin and pulled a gun of her own out of her handbag. We both stood there with guns pointed at each other’s faces. “Drop it, @$$hole,” she snarled. I did. “On your knees,” came the order. I got on my knees, with my hands on the back of my head. She took her mobile phone out of her pocket and started dialling a number, presumably the cops. Taking advantage of her distraction, I took my backup .45 out of my ankle holster, wrenched the phone out of her hand and threw it away, picked up my other gun and put them both to her head. ‘Drop your gun, b!tch,” I snarled. I would have killed her if she did so much as scratch her nose had it not been for Raoul’s sake. “You will not tell the cops about this. You did not hear my hombre fire a gunshot- it must have been somewhere else because it sounded pretty far away. Got it?” I spat. I took the clip out of her gun and gave it back to her. I drove home, hoping to God that the witnesses had taken what I’d told them to heart.
Posted 08 November 2008 - 08:30 AM
Roloing: $30. Nice prologue, but short. Remember, more length = more $$$. At the same time, however, quality > quantity.
evilbastard: $32. You need to split up your paragraphs. Every new speaker gets a new paragraph.
The LCPD had suspected several Yakuza members for drugs possession for quite a while, and executed a raid on a Yakuza storehouse on November 8th. However, after restraining the gang members inside the storehouse and searching them, as well as inside the storehouse, for drugs, none were found and the investigation was called off.
Meanwhile, in San Andreas, both the LSPD and the SFPD were getting busy. The LSPD had noticed a sudden increase in the Tornados on the street, and had suspicions as to where the Vagos were obtaining their vehicles. Upon capturing and interrogating a Vagos OG, however, they discovered that the source of the vehicles were perfectly legitimate. The SFPD, on the other hand, noticed a convoy of 5 Esperantos driving around San Fierro, its occupants doing repeated drive-by's on Triad members. The SFPD intervened and stopped the convoy, confiscating all 5 cars.
Posted 08 November 2008 - 12:48 PM
Posted 08 November 2008 - 01:53 PM
Here's my second story....
CHAPTER II-Princing the Peasant
As King Zeus said, I had to meet him at the Pay-N-Spray to be princed in. But it was early in the morning. I got up, showered, got dressed, and kissed Mom.
It was rough walking the streets of Liberty City before sunrise, but it was only a block away. The screeches of the crows, the noise of traffic, the lights of cars and buildings gave me a headache.
But I reached the Pay-N-Spray. There was King Zeus, wearing a denim jacket along with his Diablos cap. He said "I'll get the eses. Stay here, I'm only gonna be gone for a few minutes. He walked around the corner, returning with two shadowy figures behind him. The street lamp revealed them to be tall, lanky Hispanics, all wearing red bandannas and blue denim jackets. King Zeus turned around, revealing his back. The jacket read "DIABLOS 4 LIFE" and he said "Listen up, holmes, this is the Japanese kid I was talking about. The one those Yakuza bastards tried to kill. Remember, he is to be princed in. Don't touch him, this isn't the beating we give to the other eses that try to be Diablos."
One said "Si, holmes."
King Zeus said "Put your right hand over your heart. Like you would when they say the Pledge of Allegiance."
And so I did.
"Repeat after me. I swear"
"With all my heart."
"With all my heart"
"To serve the Diablos"
"To serve the Diablos"
"And my community"
"And my community"
"To follow the word of my family and my superiors"
"To follow the word of my family and my superiors"
"And to stay loyal to the King and his nobles"
"And to stay loyal to the King and his nobles"
"If I am to break this oath, may God have mercy on my soul"
"If I am to break this oath, may God have mercy on my soul"
The King continued "Put you hand down. You're now officially a Diablo. Congradulations. For now, you're just a squire, but I have a feeling that you'll go far, maybe even be the next king of the Diablos."
I was kind of baffled by his last statement."What's a squire?"
King Zeus replied "Okay my ese, I understand you're still new. A squire is the lowest rank of the Diablos. They do grunt work and run errands. Followed by them are the knights, who are foot soldiers. Then there are the dukes, who command teams of knights and handle money. Next up are the counts, who are captains of the gang. Then is the prince, who is second-in-command and is next in line to be king. Equal in power to the prince is the archbishop, who is an advisor to the king. Finally there is the king, who commands the gang. I'm King. These men are the prince and archbishop, The ese on the right is Prince Wolf. The ese on the left is Ricardo Gomez, the Archbishop of Hepburn. C'mon, Burger Shot is opening up for breakfast, let's get something to eat."
They guided me to a car. It was a Ford Stallion, like my mom's, only it was black with a flame paintjob.
"What a cool car!"
King Zeus said "Right holmes, maybe your mama's car could use a Diablo paint job, so you can truly represent."
We entered the car and drove to Burger Shot in Chinatown, listening to some good oldies along the way. All of us entered in. I ordered two sausage and bacon biscuits, while King Zeus had a breakfast burrito. Prince Wolf had a chicken biscuit, while Ricardo had nothing other than a soda.
Breakfast was good, but Prince Wolf mention "Yo, Zeus, maybe we should've gone to the St. Mark's Burger Shot. The Leones like us, but the White Tigers don't."
"Excuse my ignorance, being just princed in and all, but what's a White Tiger?"
Ricardo replied sternly "Remember the Mafia-Triad War in 2001? The Leones wiped the floor with the Triads. All their organization fell apart and the Triads who weren't in prison or dead formed three small-time street gangs. There are the Gold Dragons, the Black Wolves, and the White Tigers. All of them hate the Diablos except the White Tigers, but even then, we wouldn't consider ourselves friends. We're neutral at best."
King Zeus bolted "Well, there's no reason for concern. One, the White Tigers are mostly teens who are still asleep and two, the Chinatown Burger Shot is closer. After breakfast, Sota has to do his first job for the Diablos. We need to extend into Harwood. That's under Forelli control, but as you know, the Forellis have been on the decline since the Mafia Wars of 1998. They have Aspatria and Harwood, but that's it. We can easily take them down."
The sun rose, it was about 6:15 AM. We drove up to the Harwood/St. Mark's border, the heart of Forelli control. He handed me a can of red spray paint and said "Holmes, I need you to tag up the Harwood Gas Station and Marco's Bistro. Spray the words "DIABLOS 4 LIFE" just like on my jacket. The crown and cross are optional, but you'll get more respect if you do add them. Don't tag up the whole place. One tag per building's perfectly fine ese."
We parked at Marco's Bistro and I went to the main wall and sprayed "DIABLOS 4 LIFE" adding the four crosses around the words to make up the corners of the tag. They were Coptic Crosses, and would be beautiful if they weren't in blood-red spray paint.After I added the five-pointed crown atop the words, King Zeus shouted "NOW! GET IN!"
I jumped in and we drove down to the Harwood Gas Station. I rolled out and sprayed the tag over the side of the Gas Station, no crown or cross. King Zeus dropped me off at the motel, telling me that "I'll tell your mama about you being princed in, but the tags are just Diablo business." before he zoomed off.
Posted 08 November 2008 - 05:50 PM Edited by Angelo X, 08 November 2008 - 07:41 PM.
I'll confess, I was puffinslaughter. And my brother was $$Smith. I lied about being puffinslaughter and my brother being GTAking.
To prove I have a brother(known here as Mickey O'Neil and $$Smith) I have provided a few YouTube videos. Type in the links
My brother and I created the GameFAQs BUYG, I was PaulieRomanov, he was GTAhomie. He created it because he wanted to be a part of BUYG again. I helped him out of spite. It was my fault he was orignally banned. I used his account to steer votes in polls. But I have changed. I just had to pose as another GameFAQs member to do it. If I was just given a chance to improve my story skills, I would've let the whole thing blow over, no suicide threats, no spamming, no killing Hajime fourteen times over. Notice my stories as puffinslaughter were much better than mine as Angelo. The Angelo stories gained only $10-$20 at best, but the puffinslaughter stories gained up to $35 dollars at one point. That's a massive improvement. I did not flame or spam, granted, I overdid it with PM's about BUYG, only because of inactivity. I have changed. Ban me if you want, but remember I changed, and I am telling the truth about my brothers. You can un-ban $$Smith and Mickey O'Neil or let them create another account, that's all my brother wants is to be part of this BUYG. I do to, but I was banned for a reason, flaming and double-posting, mostly out of boredom due to inactivity. He got banned because I used his account to steer votes in polls.
When I was posting as puffinslaughter, I was nice and courteous to everyone, Mark, Phusion, and even Jacky. And my stories are much improved, and not stupid. I have changed. I understand that I have done wrong, and if you want to keep me banned, that's fine, but let my brother post. We have two different writing styles. He likes street gangs, and I like the mob. (Yes, I wrote for the Diablos, but that was part of a story arc that would carry my character into the Leones, where we would end the Yakuza. No, I wouldn't kill Hajime, I'm above that now. I might've slain Sasuke Tokugawa, the Oyabun that I created. No, I wouldn't have been a made man, but I would enter witness protection in my stories. I see this as like an RPG, hence why I am referring to my character in the first person)
Apparently Jacky knew about it the whole time. Why didn't he turn me in until the last minute? BTW, I am not an idiot. I just like being dramatic. And I do have both bipolar disorder and high-functioning AS. I know you guys don't care, but maybe you'd understand if you knew these things.
Let my brother post, that's all I want. It'd be nice if you forgave me too, but I can understand why you wouldn't.
With deep remorse and utmost apology, Angelo
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