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Build Up Your Gang

BUYG: Build Up Your Gang

Recommended Posts

radicell
Sorry about that, after I made the post I had something come up so I didn't have time to edit. I only posted "I'm lazy" because I thought you'd understand, and I apologise for that. sad.gif

I think it would've been better if you just went ahead and said that something had come up and you couldn't do it. The "I'm lazy" and the smiley face just sort of pissed me off, if you get what I mean.

 

It's fine now, and thanks for explaining what you meant. icon14.gif

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Stefan.
Sorry about that, after I made the post I had something come up so I didn't have time to edit. I only posted "I'm lazy" because I thought you'd understand, and I apologise for that. sad.gif

I think it would've been better if you just went ahead and said that something had come up and you couldn't do it. The "I'm lazy" and the smiley face just sort of pissed me off, if you get what I mean.

 

It's fine now, and thanks for explaining what you meant. icon14.gif

My apologise, I should have clarified it at the time. icon14.gif

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SomeMark

I'd like to switch from the Leone's to the Grove Street Families at Emmet's. I will have a story up for them when i get the internet up and running at my new house.

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Build Up Your Gang

Okay, I'll get right on it now...

 

Signatures are back up, so show support for BUYG by putting one in your own sig! It helps spread the word and get new members too, which would be nice. I might ask for some for the IV BUYG. In fact, I'll get right on it now.

 

updated by mark-2007

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WelcomeToLibertyCity

This chapter is quite shorter then my usual chapters, but I didn't have much to write about. Hopfully I'll get some good story dieas soon or I'll have to switch gangs sad.gif

====================================================

 

Chapter 5 First Step to Vengeance

 

Sadness and Anger, the only things that flowed in my blood the next morning when I awoke around 7:30 am, my eyes slightly crusted shut from the mourning of Mitch’s death the night before. I slumped down on a bar stool and poured a small glass of rum. I heard a noise behind me and Salvatore entered the room. “Oh, Johnny, I didn’t think you’d be awake.” Salvatore said as he took a seat beside me.

“Couldn’t sleep...” I muttered.

“Listen I now you are upset but think about the good things. You’re a made man, you have great experiences and opportunities awaiting you.” Salvatore said optimistically.

“I understand that Sal and I’m happy about that, but sadness over powers that happiness. My best friend isn’t here to experience any of that with me.” I said holding back tears.

“Hey c’mon you don’t think that big guy is up there at the pearly gates watching you?” Salvatore added.

“I guess so.” I said stepping up from the bar.

“Where are you going?” Salvatore asked.

“Out.” I said quietly, entering a Leone Sentinel parked outside the mansion.

 

 

I drove slowly around Portland, multiple thoughts roaming around my head as I whisked around corners and other cars. I was pondering about Mitch, my life, and how I could begin my journey of getting back at those Sindacco bastards. The first thing I’d need was some heavy weapons. I pulled up on the curb of Ammu-Nation and walked up to the front desk. I asked for an MP5, an M4, some satchel charges, a colt python and a sniper rifle. After I paid, I exited the store and stepped into my car. When I was about to turn the ignition, my cell phone began ringing. It was an unknown caller. “Hello?” I said suspiciously as I answered my cell. The voice on the other line was muffled and disguised, this person obviously did not want any trace of identity to be discovered.

“You listen closely; I don’t have much time to talk. I have a lead on who your friend’s killer maybe. Meet me at an alley in Red Lights District at noon. We’ll speak more there.” The mysterious voice said creepily.

“Who is speaking?” I asked demandingly into the phone. It was too late. The phone line was blank, the unknown caller must have hung up. I dropped the phone down on the floor and sped off towards the Red Lights District, hoping to take my first step into my journey of vengeance.

 

 

That afternoon, I parked in an old empty alley with nothing but a deserted building and garage. I waited impatiently in the alley for about another half hour then an old beat up car pulled in slowly. A man crept out of the vehicle with a long overcoat and a mask that covered is whole face. I walked towards him, when I got close he began to speak.

“So you are Johnny. It’s nice to meet you. I can not reveal my identity to you at this moment, so listen to what I have to say. Your friend Mitch was murdered last night by a group of Sindacco hit men. At this time that is all I know. I have some jobs I need done for myself. Do you think you can help?” The man asked.

“What’s that catch?” I asked.

“Catch?” He chuckled, “There is none. You do work for me and I get you the information you would like.” He explained.

“Sounds like a deal.” I agreed shaking the stranger's hand nervously. I hoped not to be getting into anything I shouldn’t be. But this was for Mitch so I’d do the impossible to get back at those Sindaccos. “You’re first task I’d like for you to complete is quite simple. There’s a van moving some important material down by Portland’s docks that can’t be left out on the streets. You must hijack this vehicle and bring it to me. I’ll have some more information for you soon.” He explained showing me a picture of an old blue van that was nearly falling apart.

“This piece of junk?” I laughed at the picture, “Not a problem, I’ll have it for you as soon as I find it.”

“We’ll see.” Said the man strangely as he entered his car, and disappeared out of sight.

 

To be continued…

 

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Build Up Your Gang

Hello all, very sorry for the inactivity,

 

---

 

WelcometoLibertyCity

Leone Family Mafia

5th story

$27

$3129 + $27 = $3156

Multiple of five story bonus

$100

$3156 + $100 = $3256

It's quite good, I'll say that, but there's certainly room for improvement. Dialogue is one thing that could do with a bit of fixing. Try separate the dialogue from one person up a bit. Also, a passage of dialogue should end in a comma, unless it isn't followed by an attribution as to whose speaking. I'll give a quick example from your story...

 

“You listen closely; I don’t have much time to talk. I have a lead on who your friend’s killer maybe. Meet me at an alley in Red Lights District at noon. We’ll speak more there.” The mysterious voice said creepily.

Becomes...

 

"You listen closely; I don't have much time to talk," the voice began in a tone which sent shivers down my spine. "I have a lead on your friend#s killer. Meet me in the alley in the Red Light District at noon, we'll speak more there."

Okay, maybe not the best example, but d'you see the difference? It makes things easier on the eyes, and is better punctuated. Commas come after dialogue if there is a "he said" afterwards. If not, then it's a full stop.

 

Also, think a little about keeping it realistic. Realism makes the story a lot more gritty and exciting. Walking into Ammu-Nation and buying so many weapons is fairly unrealistic, although it does happen in the game. An illegal arms dealer would make thigns much more fun.

 

---

 

Confiscations

 

A police raid on Marco's Bistro in Liberty City resulted in the arrest of three men. The diners, who were of Asian origin, were not the targets of the swoop. The raid was aimed at the notorious Liberty City Forelli Brothers, but nothing of suspicion other than the customers were found.

 

No confiscations occurred today, since the Forelli Brothers possess no drugs.

 

---

 

I'm PMing all members asking them for some activity on here, so if you read this then make sure to drop us a line.

 

---

 

Rated and updated by mark-2007

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WelcomeToLibertyCity

I apologize for that horrible chapter, that's certantly the worst chapter I've made if you have been following my story sad.gif I'll make sure to improve back to how I usually write, maybe even better. But I needed something to get me going again so I wrote that little short crappy thing lol.gif

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Flesh-n-Bone

Just decided to come and make my final decision. That's it, I'm sorry but I have to say I am asking to drop out. Sorry to everyone, but I'm no longer interested in writing and all.

 

So I'm out, good luck to everyone.

 

 

Nah I'll remain here, new story coming up soon.

Edited by Flesh-n-Bone

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$$Smith

Dude, this topic looks awesome! I would love to join. I just need to know one thing, can 2 people write for 1 gang at the same time? If so, I would like to join the Ballas. If not, I will think of a gang to join. Another question, is the uzi-9mm a mini-uzi or a micro-uzi?

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WelcomeToLibertyCity
Dude, this topic looks awesome! I would love to join. I just need to know one thing, can 2 people write for 1 gang at the same time? If so, I would like to join the Ballas. If not, I will think of a gang to join. Another question, is the uzi-9mm a mini-uzi or a micro-uzi?

Anyone casn write for the gang at any time. Doesn't matter how many people are in the gang. As for your gun question, I have no clue tounge.gif

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$$Smith

Can some of your stories be set in prison?

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WelcomeToLibertyCity
Can some of your stories be set in prison?

I think, just as long as some point you bring the location into play. But i'm not 100% sure.

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Imperial Gangster

I was reading through here and this seems interesting. I'm new (just joined today) and I was wondering how this works. I understand you write stories, but what else? Because I want to write for the Liberty City Triads.

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WelcomeToLibertyCity
I was reading through here and this seems interesting. I'm new (just joined today) and I was wondering how this works. I understand you write stories, but what else? Because I want to write for the Liberty City Triads.

You write stories, wich are like missions if you think of your storyline as your own GTA game. You earn money for the gang you write for and with the money you can buy cars, weapons, boats, planes, buisnesses, rackets, etc. You build up your gang, as the topics name states.

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Imperial Gangster

OK, how do I join?

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Omnia sunt Communia
OK, how do I join?

You should already know, Angelo.

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Imperial Gangster

Who's Angelo?

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$$Smith

Wait, what did he do? Who's Angelo? Was Imperial Gangster here before? I'm so confused.

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Flesh-n-Bone
I could easily guess it was Angelo. Ironically Angelo responded with a stupid comment in my youtube account today.

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WelcomeToLibertyCity
Wait, what did he do? Who's Angelo? Was Imperial Gangster here before? I'm so confused.

Angelo was an asshole who terrorized this topic awhile ago, he just keeps coming back everytime the forums ban him.

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mark-2007

Okay, let's try and forget about Angelo. Whilst he does give us all a laugh and a sense of pity for him, it's best just to ignore him, which everyone did, report him and wait for him to be banned, then don't mention him. It only fuels his low self-esteem.

 

I might actually have a story up soon, a rarity!

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DogOfHavoc

I'll try to write a story soon, I've just been really busy with school. Just be easy on the trigger and don't go kicking me for inactivity.

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WelcomeToLibertyCity
Okay, let's try and forget about Angelo. Whilst he does give us all a laugh and a sense of pity for him, it's best just to ignore him, which everyone did, report him and wait for him to be banned, then don't mention him. It only fuels his low self-esteem.

 

I might actually have a story up soon, a rarity!

Just thought the new guy otta know who he is, sorry about the chat about him. Don't really wanna hear about him as much as the next person.

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mark-2007

Nah, no worries WelcometoLC, just good to know in the future.

 

Looking forward to your return DogOfHavoc, you were a good writer.

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Skimask101

I'm active I just dont have time to write.

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$$Smith

I would like to join the Ballas at Glen Park. I wonder if it's ok to post my character in this post by editing?

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mark-2007

I'd like to buy a Crack Den racket in this story, as well as an additional dealer. That means I get a Crack Den and a free Dealer for $1600, and fork out an additional $400 for the extra Dealer. So $2000 in total, in case you lack all simple arithmetic. Here's a story about this purchase...

 

---

 

Los Santos Vagos

A Musty Apartment In East Los Santos

 

I stirred, prising the thin cloth sheet from my torso and rolling out of bed. Pulling the curtains apart, I let the sun bathe my face and wake me up. My tired eyes squinted and I gazed down at the road opposite the apartment. A freight train cut through the scene, ploughing out of the tunnel and heading for Unity Station in the out-of-sight distance. Not bothering to wash for now, I pulled on yesterday’s pair of crumpled jeans and a freshly-washed cotton t-shirt, fixing a yellow rag to hang loosely from my back pocket. I trudged off downstairs and took a seat across from Jorge at the table. He was midway through a bowl of cereal, and looked over at me as I took a seat.

 

“Good sleep?” he spluttered through a mouth of Cheerios.

“It was okay,” I replied, pouring myself a bowl. “Any news from Andres?”

“Yeah, he rang earlier,” flecks of cereal flying from his lips, and a line of milk made its way down his chin. He continued, “They’re charging him, apparently found enough evidence. It looks like he’s taking the bullet for Santi.”

“How’s Santi dealing with it?” I asked, looking concerned towards my friend Santiago, who was pacing around the yard outside with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

“He’s on a bit of a guilt trip, but he should lighten up a bit,” Jorge answered.

 

I slid open the glass panes and gave Santi a consolatory pat on the back before scrounging a cigarette and match off of him. We stood in silence, only the smoke in its swirling patterns made any movement. I raised the cigarette to my awaiting lips and inhaled deeply, letting the hazy smoke pour from my dilated nostrils.

 

“Look Santi,” I began with a sympathetic tone. “You gotta understand it ain’t your fault about Andres, ese.”

“I know that, I do,” he replied. “But I can’t help thinking it should be me in a cell.”

“He took a bullet for you.” I patted him on the shoulder again and continued, “You would have done it for him, or any of us.”

“Yeah, I would,” and he smiled for the first time in a while.

“Listen, we’re going out to some Aztecas hood to start some sh*t, you fancy it?”

He nodded and threw his cigarette butt to the floor, killing the embers under his foot.

 

Five minutes later, the three of us were on our way through East Los Santos with Jorge driving, Santi in the passenger seat, and me sprawled across the back. The smell of weed clung to the foam which had been exposed by the torn leather interior, so I rolled down the window and let in the warm air of Los Santos. A hip hop beat fresh from Radio LS pounded throughout the car, rattling the windows. Jorge turned the car down into Idlewood and past Well Stacked Pizza, continuing past the garage and down into El Corona. The car lurched round a corner, past a low block of flats until it rolled to a stop by the curb.

 

“You see that house over there?” it was Jorge who had spoke, nodding his head in the intended direction as he did so.

“Yeah, ain’t that some Azteca OG’s place?” I asked, wondering what he had in mind.

“Cesar Vialpando,” Santi butted in.

Jorge bent down and rustled under his car seat. He pulled out a bottle, topped with an alcohol-drenched rag, handed it to me, and spoke again, “Drop this through a window.”

 

Swallowing the lump that seemed to be lodged into my throat, I took the bottle from his hand and opened the car door. I took a look around the street, which was deserted, and crossed over. A small, mesh fencing lay in my way and I hopped it with ease, landing in Vialpando’s garden.

 

I fumbled about in my pocket before pulling out a lighter. It sparked once or twice before flickering into life, and I set alight to the Molotov’s rag. Taking aim carefully for the window into the front room of the house, I surveyed the scene before me. Just as I was about to release, a woman walked into my view. Inside the living room the woman, dark-skinned and wearing a green top, leant down and, to my horror, picked up a small baby. I looked at the bottle in my hand and took aim again. With careful precision, I aimed to the left of the window, missing it. A ball of flames engulfed the bushes outside the house, rather than what seconds before, had I not seen the woman pick up her young child, would have been a baby.

 

My senses came back to me and, upon hearing car tyres screech behind me and seeing Santi lean back and throw open the door for me, sped off down the road. Behind me, a man sprinted from his house, a gun in his hand, taking pot-shots at us but missing. We turned left and drove alongside the airport wall for a while before turning up the Seville Boulevard. Five minutes later, we passed the Pig Pen and turned off down one of the streets, coming to stop by the side of the curb.

 

“What we stoppin’ here for?” I asked, looking out of the window at the shoddy, one-storey house which sat at the top of the drive.

“That dealer we ran into a few months ago, Doe, lives here,” Jorge responded. “We’re getting a cut of his products now.”

 

We all climbed out from inside the car and paced up the drive towards to the front door. It was layered with graffiti, and the metal gate which once protected it lay useless on the grass. Santiago rapped his knuckles on the door and we stood in wait. The memorable face of Doe greeted us as the door swung open. A scar lined his cheek, stretching from the left corner of his mouth and tearing a line in his dark flesh. The scar distorted as he smiled at the sight of us and motioned for us to follow him inside. His house was a tip. Empty crisp packets, sweet wrappers, burger boxes and drinks cartons littered the floor. The dank, mouldy sofa was occupied by two giggling ladies; obviously just hear for a bit of weed. On the armchair opposite them was a man, tatty brown hair and an unshaven beard, who was lying back in the padded seat. A rubber band tourniquet was cutting off the blood supply beneath his elbow and a needle was plunged into the skin of his forearm. Having released the heroin from inside it, it was now full of a watery blood solution.

 

Doe rummaged through the pocket of his tracksuit and placed a neatly rolled wad of cash into Jorge’s waiting hand, “$600? That should be all of it.”

Jorge preoccupied himself with counting every last dollar of the money whilst the rest of us made small talk. A frothing sound became audible, followed closely by a disgusting gurgle.

“Holy f*ck!” I screamed, pointing at the heroin addict in the armchair. Foam drooled from his mouth and he resembled a rabid dog.

“sh*t, let’s get him to the hospital,” Doe began, rushing towards the man. “Someone get his arms.”

 

Leaving the two now-shocked women to their own devices, the four of us carried the overdosing man to his car. Jorge hopped in the driver’s seat, Santi in the passenger’s and Doe and I sat with the man lying across us in the back. The car tore away, turning right at the bottom of the street towards Jefferson General Hospital.

 

“f*ckin’ hell, Doe!” Santi screamed form the front over the sound of the roaring car engine. “This sh*t ain’t good for us; we can’t be getting caught with this stuff.”

“I didn’t even deal him much. He said it’d been a while since his last fix!” Doe insisted. “He must have just had some beforehand, lying motherf*cker.”

“sh*t, he’s going pale,” I said, desperately slapping his face to try keeping him alive.

 

We turned the corner and sped down the gentle slope towards the hospital entrance, slowed our speed, opened the door and gently pushed him onto the sidewalk. A crowd of passers-by immediately crowded round him as we sped away, and a doctor was soon by his side. We turned the corner and headed back to the Doe’s place.

 

“Hey, I know some kid we could get round here to help you out,” Santi told Doe, back in his scruffy front room after having asked the two women to leave. “Med school drop out, he deals now from a place in Las Colinas.”

“Yeah? Sounds good,” Doe replied. “Get him along and we’ll get a nice little piece of business going here.”

“He’s called Dev, if I remember right.”

 

We left Doe to clear up his house a bit. Santi had almost forgotten Andres being in prison as we settled down on the sofas back at our apartments and raised our beer bottles in his honour.

 

---

 

So that should be a Crack Den with a free Dealer purchased, as well as an additional Dealer. Totals $2000.

 

Thanks for reading, hope you liked it.

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iamanevilbastard

Can I join, writing stories based around the Ballas, operating out of Glen Park?

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Stefan.

I want to switch, since some people are joining the Ballas. I'll move myself from the Ballas to something.

 

@$$Smith: Added. smile.gif

 

@iamevilbastard: You have to pick another location, because $$Smith has already applied before you. Sorry.

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