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Grand Theft Auto: Bohemians & Blackjack


Recommended Posts

A Cebra and slimeball supreme collaboration


Special thanks to Money Over Bullsh*t 


Logo credit goes to Graven



Welcome to 1968. In the two most paramount cities of the era, you will follow the stories of three separate yet intertwining stories winding you across both a re-imagined San Fierro and Las Venturas, experiencing the unique culture of the times. From psychedelics and casinos to waning mobs and the Civil Rights Movement, it was an edifying time to be alive; the happy-go-lucky attitude of the '60s was just beginning to wear off and a grim reality began to set in: only the morally dubious would prosper through the chaos ahead. Only the ruthless will thrive in these cutthroat times.



In GTA: B&B, you lead the lives of three characters with the most common mindsets of the time - an out-of-work Vietnam vet, an aspiring mobster and a cross-county courier in the years 1968, 1971, and 1974. As with GTA 4's trinity, three separate stories will intertwine throughout a series of unfortunate events that lead our protagonists to work together indirectly.


The game gives all players the chance to experience the period of the Counterculture Era for what it truly was - outrageous. From huge cultural events such as the Civil Rights Movement and the mob's last grasp at Las Vegas taking a starring role in the story, lots of satirical insight is given to one of the most historically shaping time periods in American history. The overall aim is to provide a story that is equally as immersive as it is accurate, along with many convenient features that have been long awaited. Our protagonists are representations of the positive ethos that was finally beginning to dwindle as the 70s approached: desire to conquer, consequences be damned.



Colorful cities host a colorful populace. Meet some of northern San Andreas' liveliest offerings, from the pettiest of pushers to the highest of high rollers.



A 32 year old San Fierro native and Vietnam War veteran, Doug relocated to his hometown after being dishonorably discharged from the military when he was caught smuggling thousands of dollars worth of the USMC's equipment onto the streets. He's been reduced to spending his days with his wife and three year old daughter in their two-room apartment in Suppleham, wallowing in the regret of getting caught and waiting for some sort of action to take hold of him again.


At the beginning of the game, Doug has $75 to his name and drives a blue 1963 Vapid Messier.



Hailing from Carcer City, Julius arrived in San Fierro in 1960 with his brother Winston. After a near-decade of shifty jobs ranging from pizza delivery to slaughterhouse disposal, he joined Win in the virtuous career of courier work - just in time for it to become significantly less on the level.


At the beginning of the game, Julius has $400 saved up and drives both a cream 1962 Willard Gaia and a white 1966 Dinka DP420.



Flying in from Sicily with his uncle Giacomo in 1960, Dante hadn't an inkling of what lied ahead. A childhood of tough love led to a semi-recurring need for validation; a decent clout for wanting to do well in his elders' eyes. Now 24, having somewhat grown out of impulsiveness, Jackie's bosses have got their eyes on him. He knows it.


At the beginning of the game, Dante has $250 in his bank account and drives a yellow 1968 Barbican Piranha.


Joanna Pryor: Youngest scion of a pear ranching dynasty, Joanna met Doug in 1964 while he was on leave. One thing led to another - before the year was out a baby was in tow, they eloped; she got axed from the will for marrying below the family. When Doug was discharged in '67, she felt she had put the wool over her own eyes and took it out on her husband - as a result, she's often home alone with three-year-old Bonnie.

Chad Pryor: Four years his elder, Chad grew up alongside Doug in the suburbs of San Fierro. Given his propensity for violence and teenage angst, it came as a surprise for all when he left for ULSA in 1951 to study law. After passing the bar with flying colors, Chad returned to San Fierro just in time to become a crusader for the Civil Rights Movement.

Marcus Vogel: Former USMC Corporal turned jobless nomad, Marcus risked sticking by Doug during the smuggling fiasco while furtively knowing his guilt. They were discharged together and now live in the same sh*thole - Doug knows he's been running up a tab for years that can only be paid off one way: cold hard cash.

Charlie & Archie Baker: The inseparable Baker brothers have long been the cause of all kinds of trouble; in recent months, they've been the ones in trouble. Racking up debt at a faster pace than the United States due to a constant craving for booze and cooze, they've turned their semi-successful motion picture enterprise into something slightly more seedy - they're under the green ownership of Joey Dark Eyes, catering to the more bestial indulgences of the hoi polloi.

Robert Kurtz: Leader of the east coast's answer to David Arnold's band of brothers, Robby Kurtz is a former squadmate of Doug's who long preceded him in the art of the dishonorable discharge. On the loose since 1964, he and his crew recently got tired of the drear and fear of Liberty; they've kicked dirt 'cross country, recently settled on the outskirts of San Fierro - the rural town of Pleasance, where they've taken to calling themselves The Lost in honor of their exotic environs.

Mick Cassidy: In addition to having long abandoned his pledge to protect the general public, Lieutenant Mickey Cassidy of the SFPD has also ditched the guise that his corrupt approach to law enforcement is for the greater good. Self-centered and self-serving, his badge serves as the sword that allows him to pillage and pilfer - bureaucratically, of course - as he sees fit in the name of personal enrichment.

John Muscarella: A former lawyer turned San Andreas state senator. They say the only honest politician is one who can stay bought, and a lawyer-politician combo doesn't bode well. In spite of his slimy resumé, John Muscarella's specialty as a lawyer was government anti-corruption cases; as a senator, he devotes his time to advancing civil rights. Despite his pure intentions, he's still a victim to the age-old adage - his financial backings will return to supply a firm bite to the ass.

Edward J. Segal: A Sergeant Major of the USMC, Eddie Segal was, in spite of all outward appearances, the mastermind behind the smuggling operation that Doug regrettably took part in. Now retired from active duty and considered a war hero, no one's the wiser of his involvement except Doug himself. As fate has it, he's decided to carry on with his retirement in Calton Heights - a mere five minute drive from Doug's own home.

Randall Harris: One of Doug's former brothers-in-arms, Randy Harris spared no time rising up the ranks of San Fierro's police department after a suspicious helicopter malfunction left him cleared of Vietnam duty. He's the perpetual good cop, always wanting to make up for his misdeeds during the war - a sentiment not jibing well with his orders to work hand-in-hand with some of the city's undesirables as part of an early gang task force initiative.

Sugi "Winky" Palafox: Coupled with his befuddling ancestry, Winky Palafox is a low-tier heroin dealer. While running his previously budding operation out of Pocilga Lodging, he met Doug and the pair formed a lukewarm business relationship - yet another source of tension between Doug and his wife. But recent shifts in the San Fierro drug trade have forced Winky's small time operation aside - the cash tap is running dry for all involved.

Baldwin Schultz: Intimidating in his youth, this retired arms dealer has become old, flabby, and hard of hearing in his golden years. Schultzy acted as the Jewish-mob backed financier in Eddie Segal's smuggling fiasco and got away with most of the money - but that hasn't stopped him from living a life of intense frugality ever since; a hermit in a cabin atop Mount Callahan, as far from the city's hustle, bustle, and police force as possible.

Calvin Leung: A third generation Chinese-American who doesn't seem to know it; Calvin is an enforcer in the San Fierro Triads who prefers every aspect of the "old country" he's never visited. A stickler for anonymity and discipline, he overlooks much of the gang's local drug operations and reports up the ladder instead of taking action himself - making him a powerful contact for those with something to gain.

Tsang Kan Kuen: At the top of that serpentine Triad ladder, a man known as Connie to his more Americanized subordinates sits perpetually satisfied with himself. He was sent off from his eager Maoist origins in 1956 to organize the ragtag hierarchy of San Fierro's resident Triads, an endeavor he has completed all too well. Between human trafficking with the Soviets and drug dealing with the Mexicans, Connie has found an unforeseen consequence in American markets - the tossing aside of his pinko origins; the embrace of the joys of consumer capitalism.

Wei Cheng: A young Triad envoy sent from Yangshan to pad Connie Kuen's numbers, Wei is both ambitious and mischevious in his approach to a life of crime. In plain words he has no respect for ancient customs, nor the practice of elderly respect - he's in America to do damage, and in the fountain of youth he intends to make the water red.

Oscar Deng: The bellicose history between the Dengs and the Kuens goes back dynasties; it was brought to an end in the early years of the Great Qing after a liaison between an Imperial noble and a well-born temptress resulted in a child. That affair reverberates centuries down the road: it's the only reason the brainless brute otherwise known as Oscar the Ouch has made lieutenant in the otherwise tight-laced matters of the Kuen Triad.

Lucio "Joey Dark Eyes" Occhipinti: As a captain in the San Fierro crime family, Joey Occhipinti's generally repelling aura and odious sense of humor had him sent out of the city to oversee the rackets of the Santo Zacaria Valley down south. Unfortunately for the valley's inhabitants, the only family rackets down there are the skin business; theatres, sets, movies, and ladies of the night. That misfortune strikes doubly for those women of the oldest trade.

Lex Gianakos: A socialite before socialites with an exotic background and fingers in every illicit pie, Lex Gianakos is known as a cipher equal parts coy and cruel with no discernible origin story. It's widely accepted across the west coast that, regardless of her potential unsung loyalties, she's a necessary evil to have on your side.


Joan Campos: A Liberty City exile with good reason to have flown across the country for the hope of anonymity, Joan Campos alternates between flying the flags of feminism and anarchism depending on the current company. She's found a good deal more like-minded individuals from her Vista Park studio - the insurgent infantrymen of counterculture.

Augustus Hauptmann: Old money that talks the talk but can't walk the walk. Despite the outside face of a family values traditionalist, a look at Gusto Hauptmann's financial records paints another picture - a keen interest in civil rights and Democratic donations. His latest dilemma is dictating the fate of the Iron City Inquirer upon his demise - no male heirs and a young daughter with an insurgent streak leave him little choice but to milk the fourth estate for all it's got.

Joe Jagger: A southern pastor with a Communist streak, filled to the brim with visions of an equal world. Coming from wealth, he's a frequent donor to John Muscarella - it buys him never-ending invitations to political masquerades where he's free to spread his own skewed views of the three nos: religion, politics, and war. On the sociable side he enjoys hosting neighborhood cookouts; he serves his own special brand of fruit punch that the locals say is to die for.

Winston Cole: Three years younger than Julius, the Coles' good son made it all the way to university before a criminal framing brought him tumbling down. Disillusioned with society in general, he didn't hesitate to cross the country with his brother in 1960 - after eight years of intermittent employment, he's found a pursuit in civil rights and has made connections he hopes he'll never need to use.

David Arnold: A professional chopper enthusiast: Dave owns a chop-shop in Dutch Flatlands, and in the eyes of the law that's as far as his enterprising goes. In the underworld he's known to be a suave businessman of another fashion with an explosive temper and a Redwood perpetually in hand. He's currently the de-facto leader of San Fierro's biker culture, which has recently dipped its toe in the international heroin trade.

Harry Bulle: ALL A man who likes inside jokes - he chose "Harry" from the 'Tom, Dick & Harry' type of everyman, and his job at the International American Airline for the innuendo alone. Every aspect of Harry Bulle is a farce, marred behind layer upon layer of red tape and blind alleys. From a motel an even run between San Fierro and Las Venturas, he runs clandestine ops for God-knows-who for Lord-knows-why, but always in the company of an even-keeled sense of humor.

Dirk Dunne: A formidable presence with the brazenness to match, Dirk is second only to David Arnold in the biker crew hierarchy. Another example of classic brains vs. brawn, Dirk provides the terrorizing muscle behind the organization while David presents a purely businesslike facade - but the fact that both men consider themselves the boss is slightly problematic. The ostensible united front is about to crack.

Freddy Peters: The owner of Intrepid Courier Service, Freddy's come to be known as a surrogate father for his employees - complete with raging temper and all. In spite of a life running forty-some years of scrupulous values, the city's beginning to swallow him up in debt and dismay: turns out he's no more immune than anyone to sin when faced with the prospect of ruin.

Roxanne King: A Los Santos girl born and raised, Roxanne migrated to the Iron City to join her brother Leon after the Rancho Riots. She and her shadow found work in a local Suppleham watering hole - it's there she met Winston Cole, where they founded the S.F. chapter of the House of Racial Equality with only the purest of intentions - three years down and he still hasn't met her brother, a man significantly more renegade than the dynamic duo.

Leon King: Pillar of the Birchwood community just outside San Fierro, Leon only knew his first year of age and out of the pen he radicalized himself in 1965. Rather than flee the Rancho Riots like Roxy, he welcomed the insurrection: avoided arrest, made a name for himself after torching an LSPD command post, found himself revered as ever by the black community of Birchwood on a self-imposed exile. Vain yet visionary as ever, Leon took the opportunity to found the Leopards of Leandros - a preeminent black power movement IAA-pinned for sponsoring every crime under the sun.


Laverne Powell: A Caribbean native, Laverne was a precocious iconoclast against the swell of nonviolent civil rights tactics; with a series of successful activist undertakings under his belt over the past decade, he's fallen in and out of various orgs due to a habit of breaking with protocol - and inevitably found a home in the east coast chapters of the Leopards. Ever on an upward trajectory, his standout streak has recently been embraced by the King himself.

Dallas Bloomfield: Jack of all trades or an incompetent bum; a pinko bastard or a madcap anarchist - speak to different folk, get different answers. His paper trail paints no clearer picture - a journalism degree in the deep south, a tryst and quarrel with a Spanish duchess, a charge for felony mayhem in 1966 - now, he runs his own journalistic outlet from a Poacher's Beak warehouse when he's not running with David Arnold and his gang of desperadoes.

Chester Goldwater: A New England drug runner with deep-rooted links down south, Chester Goldwater drifted all the way to Los Santos so he could sell weed to the free spirited alumni of ULSA - before long he had a habit of stealing airplanes from private Blaine County airfields in order to deliver to the Mexes; a business relationship was born, but didn't last. Chester the perpetual transient fell in with some hippies; he's broken new ground further north.

Sándor "Danny Frick" Fricsay: A former stickup artist turned boho entrepreneur with a rap sheet of straight B&Es, Danny's a San Fierro native who made peace with himself after he got tired of strong-arming for petty cash. With a group of old friends he founded the Love and Sunshine Directive based out the city of love - bringing about apparatchik enlightenment and neighborly affection through means both spiritual and chemical.

Ludovico "Vic Tuna" Sclafani: A seafood merchant who gives a whole new meaning to "surf n' turf", Tuna's company Sclafani Wholesale operates as a dockside front to cover for heroin distribution across the state. Connected across all lines - to the Japs through his gambling rackets in Little Tokyo and the Mexicans through drug peddling across San Fierro - Tuna sits comfortable as the unopposed mafia chieftain of northern San Andreas.

Gesuele "Jesse the Ox" Occhipinti: Midwest born, Los Santos raised, Jesse the Ox's recent tactical appointment to serve as underboss to Tuna Sclafani came as an unexpected blessing. His unassuming frame suits his mousy, self-serving inclinations much more than the name - but it's the Ox's stubbornness, as his old friends would say. The mindset makes him doubly vicious in his strategies; never a chance of leaving a witness behind. The selfishness goes as far as to overtake the oath of la Cosa Nostra, though - he comes first. Never la famaglia.

Kalonymus "Lonnie Yum Yum" Zotz: The missing link between the Sclafani syndicate and the west coast's other Cosa Nostra outfits, Lonnie's nickname exemplifies the man as succinctly as anything: one of idiosyncrasies, born of his response to business propositions - he likes it, he chirps "yum yum". A reputation built off a inter pares relationship with both black gangsters and the guidos back in home plate Liberty City atop a foundation in the numerous gambling operations he inherited from his father. He's known to come across friendly, if a bit nonplussed - in reality he's only marginally better at hiding his opportunism behind a curtain of ill-fitting clothing patterns.


Bung Fritz: One-time cop, two-time Olympic athlete from the land down under constantly jet setting from continent to continent in pursuit of new contacts to add to a burgeoning empire, always in the company of a shadowy figure or two and some reticent reactionaries from East-Central Europe. Nobody really knows his business because they don't ask - he's got more connections than his international flights and fulfills every obligation, and if that means being shadowed by a black van every time he's in the area then so be it. The suits probably aren't worth the worry.


Bennie Bartok: One of San Andreas' newer players in the drug trade, Bennie is already known as a force to be reckoned with. His laid-back disposition works hand-in-hand with his disarming figure, but he's got a dangerous knack for negotiation and depravity while behind closed doors. He advertises as one of the cheapest fixers currently on the market - loyal only to the highest bidder.


Sienna Derisme: A southern girl northern raised - that's the extent of the available hearsay surrounding Sienna's lifestory. In San Fierro she goes club to club, red light to pink light, in search of something intangible that she expects to find through the nightly company of strange men. She's had little luck finding whatever she seeks.

Seamus Dunleavy: The bored housewives of the Santo Zacaria Valley had Doctor Dunleavy making high five figures - that all came to an end when he was caught testing the effects of certain psychoactives under false pretenses. Without his medical license, Seamus turned his work toward spirituality - before long he was Brother Dunleavy of the LSD, deity to the dazed masses, handing out microdots like communion wafers.

Sam Beasley: Infamous pimp and pusher from Carcer City, "Stone Cold" Sammy has recently been called from his northeast digs to help his old pal Pat Matthews dole out mafia-supplied heroin to every black community from the Greenwich Coast to the Gobi Outpost. A perpetual stone-faced expression gave him his namesake; none of the eight streetwalkers he killed in Carcer saw it coming - a violent death at the hands of a gold and zebra sheathed cane.

Pat "The Cat" Matthews: The Cat operates in pussy and heroin. Recently released from a fifteen year bid in a mixed-race hellhole in the midwest, Pat Matthews found everything exactly where he left it in the deceptive suburbia of Birchwood. Originally a street cat from Carcer, he moved west for the weather and the potential - when he went away in 1953 he never knew just how perfectly circumstances would conspire down the road. His haunts in the town are ripe for the picking - junkies chase the dragon like a thirsty man drinks water, and the mafiosi across the river are game.

Hyman Katz: Long-successful record executive known for his reach across all musical genres, Hyman Katz's auteur status is owed to his children's fingers on the pulse of young society - not his. The facade of avant-garde knowledge has gained him many successful contracts in the meantime, thanks in equal part to his underworld connections - the question is: how long can he maintain the balancing act?

Bruno Grzybowski: Voted most esteemed agent of the Department of Opioid and Pharmaceutical Exploitations since '65, the colloquially known Agent Grotto has never hesitated to be brutal and calculated in his efforts to curb San Fierro's growing drug epidemic. Perhaps he wouldn't be as revered if his superiors knew of his back-alley deals - a wet beak in exchange for busting only the pettiest of pushers.

Matilda Yong: Luckily for Matilda, her patrons are an inherently no-questions-asked type of clientele. Perhaps if they were, they would ask how she managed to pop up in S.F. come 1965 with a small fortune in counterfeit bills and a Chinatown building lease without so much as a peep beforehand - or why half the time she doesn't respond to her name. When she put the apartments above her parlor up for rent in '68, the equally reticent Cole brothers came a-knocking.

Jackie Gallo: Dante's only uncle, Giacomo came to America at the height of Prohibition. After a rise and fall under the eyes of a local thief ring, he headed east straight into the arms of the Gambettis. An astute business acumen boosted him to underboss by the 60s, when his paisan Amerigo Cazzini recruited him to oversee Venturas ops in perpetuity.

Jon Gravelli: A consistently dependable worker for the Gambetti family since the age of twelve, Gravelli has recently been promoted to capo and shipped off to Las Venturas just in time to miss the birth of his son. In love with his work but having left his heart in Liberty City, he is known as a fair and level-headed leader with a zero tolerance for callowness.

Amerigo Cazzini: A Mustache Pete through and through, Cazzini came to North America in the mid-20s to flee the state police and four angry husbands. The full Sicilian package of a sadistic streak and heightened business savvy, he found triumph in the Prohibition bootlegging operations of eastern Canada. Of late, his personal kinship with Gambetti head Sonny Cangelosi has earned him a spot further south - heading the Sicilian sect of the Gambettis as their Las Venturas intermediary.

Sonny Cangelosi: Never in a near fifty-year career in the waste management business has Sonny Cangelosi been convicted of a crime, thanks to a lifetime of keeping his cards fused to his chest. Hand gestures, batty wordplay, complete silence - the Liberty City attorney general has nothing on the man who heads the Gambetti crime family. He's not above rubbing their face in it either - suspicious trips to Las Venturas he knows are out of the office's jurisdiction and constant shoulder rubbing with known crime figures, Cangelosi has recently struck up a big deal with old friends in the name of shared profits.

Ettore Boccino: Product of a long line of slimy businessmen and con artists, Ettore was the first and only to welcome Dante to the neighborhood. He taught the boy English and how to hustle; the brother he never had. With the pair growing up around men like Jackie they inevitably found themselves drawn to the lifestyle - if only they ever found success in it.

Sebby Boccino: One of those aforementioned slimeball con artists, Sebastiano Boccino is Ettore's father and one of the casualties of the Gambetti family's Liberty City purge - any and all weak links sent to the land of slot machines. Turns out he's well suited to it; his affinity for unsightly polo shirts is uninhibited by the weather, and corpse disposal is only a fifteen minute drive to a hole in the desert - what's not to love?

Vivienne Lemay: One of Las Venturas' most prestigious poker players, "Lady Vee" is notorious on the strip for her talent of cleaning out any casino that dares let her enter thanks in equal part to her beauty and her prowess. Blacklisted from all but three Venturas gambling outlets, she is eager to try her hand at La Penisola upon its opening in early 1968 - little does she know, the Cazzini family have long had their eyes on her.

The Midwest Commission: The flyover state variety of the Five Families' governing body, the midwest commission holds court over all mob-related decisions throughout middle America, headquartered in Delisle. Recently, their priorities are focused on Las Venturas - their collective investment in La Penisola a potential cash cow for decades to come. As of 1968 the commission is made up of:

Max Buscaglia: Feared enforcer for the Couira mob, "The Butcher" Buscaglia made his name and his bones through a renown line of meat markets - animal et al. He's a loon even by criminal standards, word down the grapevine being he worships the occult and now and again sacrifices his victims in the name of Lucifer in his shop backrooms. Cute peculiarities aside, he's a childhood friend of Jackie Gallo and has made firm relations with a certain government agent. Above all, he's in good hands.

Carmine Cohen: A bookmaker by day and fabled handicapper by night, rumor has it that Carmine invented the very idea of point shaving - maybe he should've filed a patent. At the beck and call of every crime family from Coventry to Liberty, he's always lived in the lap of luxury thanks to a life studying the art of odds. The paranoia of Couira's mob has given him a longer-winded station; sports booking across the Las Venturas Strip to maintain their investment in La Penisola. In the grand scheme of things he's just another friendly face to cover for more hush-hush ops - but he'll sure get rich doing it.

Carlo D'Aversa: Las Venturas' casino frontman, Carlo has always been popular among the comers-and-goers of the strip. Known for his happy-go-lucky attitude and ostentatious habits, Carlo hasn't been quite himself lately. He's being pulled down the middle by the Gambettis and the Ancelottis - the former trusting he'll provide a garish open to La Penisola, the latter hoping they can hook him over to play for the other team.

Albert Aisner: A failed car salesman from southern San Andreas, Albie Aisner's similarities with his Italian counterpart end with the title. He keeps a low profile; a friendly face to hide the organized skim taking place in the count rooms of every casino under his belt, from the Algiers to the Tequila Sunrise. As long as the money rolls in, he'll take the jabs at his Semitic mores from the higher-ups in stride.

Linwood Kennedy: Famed alum of Classic Vinewood's silent era, Linwood Kennedy has amassed such an immense fortune in the past three decades that he's been allowed the luxury of practicing peculiar hobbies. Besides snow globe collecting, harvesting carnivorous plants, and faking his own death for sport, he rejoices in purchasing controlling stakes in thriving industries, only to bleed them dry and inevitably forget about them. After a long life stuck in Vinewood he's moved slightly north - drawn like all to the neon lights of Las Venturas.


Alan Hoffman: A preeminent real estate mogul turned casino impresario with a line in every industry, Alan Hoffman's silver spoon upbringing has left him in a permanent state of dissatisfaction with his surroundings. In Las Venturas he has a vision - wrestling the last relics of a bygone era from the fossils of their dominion, replacing them with moneymaking conglomerates that will live on in perpetuity.

Harold Von Crastenburg: A fortune like no other thanks to a line of international luxury hotels didn't save Harold Von Crastenburg from his diagnosis: two years max. In light of the news he's turned his priorities from business to pleasure: collecting endlessly expensive rare cars and memorabilia with the profits gained from the casino trade - an industry he calls "unconfined idiocy". Like Linwood Kennedy he's ever a capitalist no matter the pretensions - the bottom line takes charge no matter the casualties incurred.


Glenn "The Kraut" Deutsch: A loyal footsoldier to Max Buscaglia and - to a lesser extent - the Couira Outfit, The Kraut gave up a six-figure salary as a bookmaker for the family in order to follow his mentor to Las Venturas when duty called. He's rarely seen on his own, nor lets a breath escape his lips without the permission of his patron thanks to the insecurity of a congenital defect - one that certainly doesn't affect his temper or his vitality.


Pasquale "Pat/Pax" Ancelotti: What some might call an idealist visionary may be seen by others as an egomaniac too preoccupied with a vainglorious legacy - and somewhere in the middle lies Pax Ancelotti and a crime syndicate in fruitless stasis thanks to a sudden preoccupation with his new baby: the Italian-American Association Against Discrimination. Jumpstarted by a desire to see his nephew out of a trumped-up extortion charge, the flames were stoked by Zuriel Orzoff Esq. and have been consistently refueled by the oily downtrodden - and the man on the throne, soldiers at his feet, has seen it fit to leap off and start building a shrine to San Gennaro while forgetting the concept of mutiny.


Giovanni Ancelotti: As Pasquale Ancelotti's nephew, Giovanni has long been considered the obvious choice to succeed his uncle's position as head of the family. He's fair in his dealings, unbiased in his affairs, ostensibly peace-seeking - if only they knew of the fire in his heart, the yearning for the day his beloved Uncle Pasquale keels over so he can grab the reins.


"Crazy" Wayne Coco: A sadist of the highest order, Crazy Wayne earned his nickname in spades decades back - on the way back home after one a-many lashings out that probably left some poor schmuck with one less eye or limb. He's taken up residence in three states and shadows Gio Ancelotti like an ice pick-wielding puppy dog: at his beck and call he goes where the business goes, and where the business goes blood's sure to flow.


Zuriel Orzoff: A Bohanite as they come, Zuriel abandoned his post in the appellate courts of Liberty City to specialize in Algonquin private practice - a majority of his time spent with client/confidante Pasquale Ancelotti, his undying drive and ruthless nature have left his name perpetually on the lips of the elite with money to spare; a steady source of income when he's not fighting Ancelotti battles as legal representative of the newly minted Italian-American Association Against Discrimination. 


Eugenio "Genie" Sbarra: A member of Gravelli's rag-tag crew from Dukes, the Sbarra name is feared on the streets of Liberty; a man with a reputation for a love of the kill. His signature? Popping a guy in the head and crushing them in their car, dumping the cube in the Humboldt. Got handpicked by Gravelli to join him on his Venturas vacation, and he's making a go of it: the wife thinks it's a business trip and the kids play little league. Junior just made star of the team. The facade may be different, but the techniques are all the same. The man never changed. 

Michael Caccia: With a penchant for flashy shirts and philandering, Mikey's an Alderney City bookie who got demoted cross-coast when he slept with a Lupisella capo's goomar one too many times. The Gambetti brass shipped him out with the hope that his numbers skills would prove useful in the casinos - they don't know the resentment he harbors for pulling him from his stomping grounds.

"Chubby" Charlie Matteo: From the nickname alone, people expect to come face-to-face with a waddling Guernsey greaseball of middle age - they're wrong. Rather, young Charlie Matteo's moniker comes from the predatory vig he charges on his loans which, even at his young age of twenty, have inspired many a successful Alderney risk-taker to file for personal bankruptcy. His zeal for the old ways of the life are paving the way for a long-lived career in Ancelotti loansharking; the Las Venturas wing of the family needs his services more than ever.

Valerio "Val Flowers" Negri: Former city alderman from the Midwest, Val Negri has long retired his political aspirations in favor of a equally corrupt agenda - cavorting with organized crime and government agencies alike. He's a man serving many interests, above all his own; only a small party are privy to just what extent this attitude operates. He'll take it to the grave.

Pip & Pat Trompi: The Trompi brothers are the Ancelotti family's main enforcers, bringing both the brains and the brawn to the table. Despite the longstanding war, Ancelotti higher-ups waited until Venturas was a sure thing to send them in. Pip's laying low under his permit to get the city in Ancelotti hands at all costs. His little brother, on the other hand, has a mouth that can't contain his fervor - even in a city of callous windbags.


"Blue" Billy Bracco: Soon-to-be La Penisola's host, Guglielmo's new to the game: got his first taste of 'our thing' after Sebby Boccino personally congratulated him on a great set at the Quadrille. Later that night saw him throw a brick at a bad waiter. For his silence he's here and now, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous while only slightly knowing what happens behind the curtain.

Anthony Bianco: One-time Ancelotti boss-to-be who was kicked to the Liberty curb after a majorly failed coup with Joe 'the Mess' Messina, Bianco is fresh off a ten year trip up the river for attempting to extort a San Andreas used car salesman. No longer welcome in his hometown, he wants to try his hand in Venturas - he's always held an irrational hatred for Sonny Cangelosi and his ilk; money will be made at all costs, peacekeeping efforts be damned.


Girolamo Lancetti: Ruling over the territory of southern San Andreas for the better part of two decades, nobody would dare hazard a guess that Gerry Lancetti's previous métier was upholding the law; yet he's still a legal eagle at heart. A firm cooperation with the Ancelotti keeps the Lancetti family unchallenged in their perches, if largely insignificant in the sprawling umbrella of the American mafia.


"Cockeyed" Phil Giamonte: A loyal button man for the Los Santos crime family since its glory days, the glass-eyed Giamonte - often too lazy to align his fake blinder - fell by the wayside in favor of Gerry Lancetti when it came time for the leadership election in the late 50s. Vicious and grudging, he's biding his time and stewing in resentment against the man at the reins, waiting for the opportunity to usurp the cathedra and bring the family back to its highest of heights.


Mario Bonelli: Big Bonelli made capo faster than he could crack a corny joke about pasta nobody would laugh at. Chummy with Mac Panza 'til the heat got too hot and they started ticking off boss after boss - the consummate boot licker keen on impressing. Now Vinewood-bound: good friends with Lancetti and Couira's boys in LS, best buds with whoever laughs the hardest at his bad puns.


Ronald Ross: A man of the south who'll take the whole cowboy shtick to his grave, Ronny Ross left his utopia when Couira took a stand back in ol' Texas. Now more ingrained in the west coast than the horseshoes that became his casino's namesake, Ross has skirted more criminal trials than Sonny Cangelosi in the spirit of keeping his business up and running - fiercely independent from the long arm of the mob.


Haluk "The Turk" Sipahioğlu: They started calling him The Turk not just as a marker of his ancestry but because the hoi polloi of Las Venturas might as well had been coughing up phlegm while trying to pronounce his surname. Turk came to the city in the early 60s, easily forged a path not quite into the lap of luxury but at least middling comfort; perpetually cordial and at peace with his station in life, he runs a backstreets thrift shop that's inevitably led to some crossovers with society's scofflaws. He'd never welcome them with any less of a smile.







The cities of San Fierro and Las Venturas are separated into districts. Within these districts are neighborhoods, which are all entirely unique and evolve as the game goes on. In between the two cities is an expanse of desert, where small towns and venues are scattered across. Below is a list of districts, neighborhoods and desert towns in the game.




"Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era—the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run… but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant..."

- Hunter S. Thompson




Iron Coastlands: Consisting of Quest Sound, the Dutch Flatlands and Poacher's Beak, the Iron Coastlands consist mostly of industrial factories, many of them abandoned and in disarray - the SFPD know that no amount of policing will heed the amount of illegal dealings that go on under the moonlight. Of the three, Poacher's Beak is considered the "safest" to venture into overnight, seeing as it's the only one with residential areas. David Arnold's chop shop is right in the middle of the Dutch Flatlands district, which tangibly belongs to him, and Quest Sound is the place to go if you're looking for questionable narcotics or solid weapons. If you aren't up for paying, the San Fierro Naval Dockyard is host to the most military contraband in the state; try your luck.

  • Quest Sound - Still mostly empty with exception of a few looming warehouses and vacant alleyways, the perpetually half-flooded Quest Sound - The Bayou - is Fierro's go-to place for deals of the shadiest kind. Until someone wealthy enough decides to initiate a redevelopment project, the SFPD chooses to ignore the fact that every night, the population experiences a sudden boom.
  • Dutch Flatlands - Consisting almost entirely of run down and abandoned buildings, there is absolutely no reason for anyone up to a reasonable amount of good to venture into the Flatlands. De-facto owned by David Arnold and his gang, the police stopped patrolling the area ages ago.
  • Poacher's Beak - Being the least dangerous neighborhood of the Coastlands doesn't make it safe by any stretch of the imagination. Poacher's Beak is a cesspool of sketchy massage parlors and liquor stores with upstairs apartments. You've still got a 50-50 chance of getting mugged or propositioned while walking down the street, but it's a whole 'nother world compared to the Dutch Flatlands.


Sunset District: Calton Heights, Westwood, Vista Park and Princeton are the neighborhoods of the Sunset District. Previously occupied by lower-middle class, the district has recently received a surge in property purchases by those in the know. Tightly packed Victorian-era townhouses populate the narrow streets that offer sweeping views of the bay.

  • Calton Heights - Previously known as Andreas Heights, in recent times this neighborhood has been inhabited by those with money to spare. Located at the top of a steep incline, Calton Heights features a great view of Easter Bay and is home to the most affluent in the city. Despite the high property prices, the streets of the neighborhood are plagued with young "artists" hocking their newest music and advertising clubs in the city's seedier locales during the day, and the "classiest" of working girls at night.
  • Westwood - Virtually identical to Calton Heights, Westwood sits high above sea level and is populated to the brim. However, it remains untouched by the higher class. Victorian houses not maintained since their inception continue to fall apart at the seams behind well-maintained lawns and gardens. Due to not knowing what sort of audience they might find, Westwood is free from any sort of hecklers and is the quietest of the district at night.
  • Vista Park - Unlike the others of its ilk, Vista Park was never considered a great place to live. Apartment tenements highly outnumbering historic homes took away from its charm atop San Fierro's highest hill, but the Summer of Love brought hundreds of young couples to the neighborhood in a fest of song and acid. One might call it the nerve center of SF counterculture.
  • Princeton - Half at sea level and half uphill, Princeton used to be a quiet residential area. Recently, it's turned upside down and has become a safe haven for the LGBT community in the aftermath of the Summer of Love and more nightclubs and bars are springing up than ever. History buffs and natural beauty maintain its reputation as prime real estate.


Lusitano Hill: Only the neighborhoods of Suppleham and Little Hanoi remain part of the formerly sprawling locale of Lusitano Hill. Constricted to the east by San Fierro's expanding downtown and to the west by the estates of the Sunset District, it has become a haven for those with little cash to spare and nowhere else to go.

  • Suppleham - Booming from the Gold Rush until the end of Prohibition, Suppleham developed into a refuge for GIs as the 1940s approached. Its nightlife was swept aside as properties were flipped residential - it could only work for so long. Now, as WWII fades into the past and the draftees move on, it has turned to a something of a melting pot; jazz clubs, burlesque theatres and massage parlors now line the streets. The homes have been kicked upward - single occupancy apartments above the businesses. Doug and his family live at Pocilga Lodging, one of the only apartments left that operates not only in name.
  • Little Hanoi - Part of Suppleham in reality but not in spirit, Little Hanoi is distinct in its purely Vietnamese identity. Plain and simple - don't venture in here unless you speak it or look it, at least until the war's over.



Sastre Outlook: Home to those rich enough to acknowledge San Fierro's cultural scene from afar but too brassbound to take part in it, Sastre Outlook's district/neighborhood combo offers stunning views all around to look down on the commoners below. Recent picketing has put a pin in the district's perpetual air of superiority, laying bare the fact that no amount of elitism can keep out an increasingly unruly populace.




Greenwich: A district of shifting populations since the Gold Rush, East Greenwich, West Greenwich, Equator Bay and Kennedy Park make up San Fierro's middle-class compromises. The district border has been consistently warping since the 40s, pushing stucco dwellings to the brim with - most recently - headstrong Chinese immigrants too proud to live in Chinatown.

  • East Greenwich - Constantly under construction and split down the middle between ancient Victorians and budget crash pads, its borders are rounded out by the Sastre Vista highlands one way and San Fierro's token park on the other. East Greenie is affordable and cultural - and the bohemians are taking notice.
  • West Greenwich - When the Greenwiches became two, the west side got away with most of its fabled antique housing. With sandy beaches on one side and lush parks on another, only those appreciating of nature and tolerant of peculiar smells inhabit it.
  • Equator Bay - Smack dab in the middle, Equator Bay was left out of the Greenwich moniker. It has its own identity instead - numbered streets, abundant murals, and cheap duplexes. It's second only to Chinatown for the highest concentration of Chinese immigrants; ones who prefer to live in relative anonymity.
  • Kennedy Park - Kennedy Park is nothing more than a glorified nature reserve built around the ruins of a once-massive natatorium - a tourist trap for those excited to see the end of the Great Ocean Highway, sure, but one offering the double trouble of both scenic views of the Pacific and the seclusion of the cliff faces. Practically begging to be the backdrop for something poignant.



Chinatown: Another district/neighborhood mashup, San Fierro's Chinatown is the oldest of its kind. If it's food cart nosh, faux imperial architecture and bargain, 50/50-shot-of-a-happy-ending massages you seek, it's your port of call. Just ignore the influx of immigrants hoping to keep the district to themselves. Above one of those infamous parlors sleep the Cole brothers, undying sticklers for budget living.



Nocaro Esplanade: Under this district's umbrella fall San Fierro's varied waterside neighborhoods: Clarita Quay, Balandro, and Las Llegadas. They might share a nautical view, but that's about it - the San Fierro city council stands partial to the remunerative neighborhoods only, letting the flower children fight for the scraps elsewhere.

  • Clarita Quay - As some of the Esplanade's other developments fell into disarray, Clarita Quay's grandiose allure kept it 100% afloat. It's survived the times as a token of nostalgia, seemingly untouched by modernity to the benefit of the rich and tourist-inclined alike. Main attraction - Victoria Dock, where anyone can gorge on seafood while eyeballing the filthy rich do the same on their moored yachts nearby.
  • Balandro - Twenty years ago Balandro could've been considered Clarita Quay's sister section - if its original architect hadn't insisted on forging it in wood, that might still be the case. Now it's falling to rot, both literal and metaphorical - it's closer to the Dutch Flatlands than its neighbor in spirit.
  • Las Llegadas - Commemorative fountains and an abandoned army post; Fort Woods has been chiefly forsaken since the end of the Korean War. It lays waterside as a target for urban exploration and patriotic photo ops, zip else. The open land of its few plazas, however, are ripe for bohemian outdoor living.



The Valley: Nobody knows how this district became known as The Valley; both Dimezzo Vale and Para Point's lush green landscapes sit on a mountain high above the rest of San Fierro. Maybe it was lost in translation. Maybe its settlers were idiots.

  • Dimezzo Vale - Originally envisioned as working-class rowhouses for the purveyors of the 1850 Gold Rush, most of its inhabitants died without a dime to their name. It was only then that the rich noticed what beautiful views it offered of the shoreside from the backyards of its Victorian duplexes; guess who came out on top?
  • Para Point - Same as above, with a twist; when the rich invaded Para Point they were interrupted by city ordinances - it was to be the site of San Fierro's water reservoir, significantly depreciating the neighborhood's value. When the minor inconvenience made the fat fly elsewhere, the middle class entered in droves. Para Point is the location of Doug Pryor's childhood home.


  1. Three Guys Walk Into a Bar - Julius Cole, Doug Pryor, and Dante Gallo act out a typical day in the life as auspicious prospects loom.
  2. Top of the Slide After a face-to-face with his newest employer, Julius is put to the test in a surreal environment.
  3. Consumption and Other Hobbies - Dante heads out to the desert on behalf of his uncle, then gets into some hijinks with an old friend.
  4. The Gordian Knot A desperate Doug teams up with a former business associate and earns a chance to showcase his skills to a new organization.
  5. Red Herring Julius makes an impression on Winston's girlfriend then heads to the docks to meet an offbeat seafood salesman offering work.
  6. Moth and Rust - A boozy Dante and Ettore pull a heist on a Couira drop shop hosted in a meat market.
  7. Conflict of Interest - Told to inspire some Chinese envoys with the American work ethic, Doug and a unit of Triads collect on a debt wanted in a number of circles.
  8. One More Saturday Night - Julius is shuttled off to an acid test in Rose-Ronan courtesy of the bikers.
  9. Shrinking Men - Dante comes face to face with a local legend as a personal favor for Jon Gravelli.
  10. Blacktop Blues - Marcus tags along with Doug on a drug deal that never quite materializes.
  11. Yellow Press - As tensions flare, Julius heads to the jewel of the Hauptmann crown to put the fear of God into the editorial board.
  12. Mea Culpa - Dante and Eddy commit a flagrant sin.
  13. Inconveniences Resolved - Doug heads into the hornet's nest to recover his impounded car and 15 kilos of scag.
  14. The Homing Pigeon Roosts - Julius meets the Leopards of Leandros.
  15. King of Swing - As La Penisola's grand opening approaches, Dante's tasked with recovering an institution of yore.
  16. The Father, The Son, The Spirit - Doug lends his services out to the Russian mob and runs into someone he would've been just fine never seeing again.
  17. In Dealing With Mongol Hordes - A deal in the dirt: Mexicans, scoped rifles, acid comedowns, and rampant passive aggression.
  18. Stuck In The Brambles - Dante rescues a friend in need.



Winky's Wetwork (Doug)
The first structured side-mission available in-game, Winky's Wetwork consists of Doug's efforts to keep Winky Palafox's Triad-affiliated drug running op afloat. Tasks range from the menial - overseeing Chinatown poppy shipments or keeping workers in check - to the more intricate, such as roughing up unruly employees or getting the dirt on warehouse owners downriver. As the story progresses and Winky learns the ropes himself, Doug will receive a thanks with decent severance. There are seven scripted missions:

  • The Birds: Doug oversees a shipment of heroin coming in through the open waterfront; open season. With the help of Triad goons, ensure the cargo is safely tucked into the vans as rival thugs attempt to butt in from the sky - ward them off and bring a batch straight to Calvin yourself for extra compensation.
  • Badlands Redux: At the behest of the Triads themselves, take out the ringleader of the other day's ambush from his mountaintop cabin south San Fierro.
  • Crème de la Crème: Conduct a business meeting yourself out of a Poacher's Beak confectionery and prove your reputation as a stalwart negotiator - if you've got good eyes you'll double-cross the double-crossers before they can do you any wrong.
  • Prohibition: As the Triad warehouse housing the goods from the confectionery deal gets raided, find a way to relocate the goods without getting busted.
  • Chief Shaft: Obtain some coercion-worthy exhibition shots of the drug case's lead investigator and shrug off funny looks as the photos get developed.
  • Tropic Sun: With the heat off Winky's back, stake out the agreed meeting place to offload the goods before the deal takes place and eradicate any undesirable elements.
  • Heroin Chic: In the company of Winky and a band of Chinese goons, ensure the biggest deal of his career goes off without a hitch.


Weapons Trafficking (Doug)
Maybe second time's the charm. Doug still holds contacts within the USMC willing to part with some firepower despite the original ring's disastrous fate - with the help of Baldwin Matthews, Doug returns to his old tricks sans the deceitful Sergeant Major. With good work put in along with Doug's career advancements elsewhere, the missions become increasingly complex and doubly rewarding as time goes on. There are five varieties of missions:

  • The Oceanic: Be it through stealing or purchasing, this mission takes Doug out on the water to complete his objective. That's not an indicator of anonymity - San Fierro has eyes on the sea 24/7 to protect the SF Naval Dockyard. Grease the Coast Guard's palms yourself or think of another way through, because naval warfare isn't a force to be reckoned with in trying times.
  • The Smuggler: Race to the given locations and stuff some weapons in anonymous dropboxes around the state - just watch out for setups and crackdowns.
  • The Saboteur: As always, the arms race is not without opposition. Through force of wit or ferocity, let your competitors know that northern San Andreas has only one name for blackmarket weapons.
  • The Deal: Meet with contacts statewide to seal the deal on a sale. Be aware - with no means of verification, you're always taking part in a risky business. Cop or crook, see to it that things are done on a level playing field.


Edited by Cebra
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- WIP -




As the first GTA game set in a drastically different time period, B&B aims to enter foreign territory as far as modern conveniences go. No texting, cellphones or even pagers are available to keep in constant contact with your criminal compatriots; enter the "old-world" way of connection. Playing as this entry's focal trio, you'll notice how much this affects your discovery of the in-game world. Whether you're trying to conquer the Venturas mob scene as Dante, make your riches as Julius or overcome your demons as Doug, things will be different. The word on the street will become your main point of reference for how business is being viewed, so keep your ear to the ground and listen for hints from the population that, if exploited, can pave your way to success.


Unlike previous iterations, the in-game radio is more dynamic as ever. Upon pressing the corresponding button/key, the camera will zoom in to the radio. From there you are free to scroll AM/FM stations until you find a randomly generated song or political discussion that suits you. If you're in a rush, there are still the traditional station choices with a long list of tracks to choose from. See Radio section.

While the stock market is not around in this installment, other features have been implemented to show the process of change in Las Venturas and San Fierro. As the game progresses, stores may close and reopen, shopkeepers will age and eventually be replaced, buildings will be built on previously empty lots and much more. As Doug, Dante or Julius you now have the ability to decorate their homes as you see fit; for each room, you are given up to four options on what decorative style it takes on, much like Saint's Row 2's customization system. Your businesses will be influenced by the city's mood as the years progress, and it's up to you to see economic change coming if you want to stay afloat. See Business section for more information.

Be it through military feats or a life on the streets, B&B's focal trio are no shrinking violets. During back-alley gunfights where things are forced to get up close and personal, Doug, Julius, and Dante will be forced to take things to a physical level - kicks and punches, headbutts and evasive maneuvers before the killing shot to avoid an onslaught of lead. Likewise, physical combat has risen to new heights through contextual environmental takedowns - grappling your opponent when he's down and finishing him off in style. Open the spoiler to read of the protagonists' unique executions.

In an effort to provide an open and fully interactive world, multiple objectives can be accomplished by doing favors for NPCs around the map. Say, for instance, you need to find a hit target but don't know his location. You can take the traditional routes - follow a friend to his residence, offer someone a bribe - but you can also complete favors for people with the information. These range from jury intimidation to auto theft and even charming a famous actress; both dynamic and scripted, anything is possible.

Although less invasive than they were in GTA IV, friend activities have returned in B&B. Main characters all have their own residences with enterable interiors now, so instead of using a payphone or hobbling into the nearest restaurant to make a call you can now simply knock on their door and go out. These activities range from restaurants, bars, disco clubs, dart & pool venues, strip clubs, drive-in cinemas and more. All friends have one unique activity that only they can be taken out to, and some friends may call you for favors ranging from things as simple as a lift to beat-up missions and small-time robberies.


The old-time setting brings ahead the biggest change: in a living, breathing world, your every action is important in a time where word travels mainly by rumor. All aspects of criminal life are subject to scrutiny - now more than ever.

  • Gambling: Want to turn your characters into card sharks? Whether you win or lose, your reputation will precede you. A losing streak will guarantee more people want to play you because they think you'll bust out at every turn. Win every time and you won't be offered as many street games, but entry to high-stakes tournaments will present beaucoup bucks rewards. See Gambling section for an in-depth look at the gambling system itself.
  • Image: As you progress in your criminal exploits and the public begins to learn your name, the way you carry yourself will take affect on your perceived persona. Dressing well and driving flashy are good ways to look successful, but your business approaches are taken note of as well. Don't get revenge when someone tries to torch one of your businesses? Expect it to happen again. Ruthlessness gets noticed - don't let people f*ck with you.
  • Violence: You go out and do what you want to do; that's the freedom of GTA. But a violent streak will ensure you are treated appropriately, be it by passerby or shopkeeper. Pedestrians may give you wary glances or just plain run away upon seeing you. Shopkeepers, depending on the business, may either offer you discounts out of fear or refuse service altogether. Be an asshole, sure - in moderation.

The fundamental gizmo of any half-baked criminal: the lockpick serves to get your hands into any place they're not meant to be. Cars, locked doors, safes, you name it - it's locked, it's prime to be unlocked. There are three sets of picks available to the player:

  • Rake pick: Cheap and easy as a Elwood Avenue whore but not nearly as loud, the rake pick is your protagonist's default method of lockpicking. A line bobs up and down; catch it as it's within the shear line and you'll have your lock firmly snaked. The rake pick's also as limited as it is cut-rate: don't expect to be gaining entry to a safe or vehicle recently off the assembly line any time soon. This is the protagonists' default pick.
  • Pin and tumbler: The classic method of junction jimmying; hold each pin in place until the three share a shear and you're in. It's just about the same speed as a rake pick, but can pry open any lock regardless of its quality. Prices range from $20 to $50 for a set - and they're more delicate than you'd think.
  • Pick gun: The American way; do it for me. No minigame, no sluggishness, the pick gun fully automates the art of the lockpick. There's a caveat, however - they're only suited for run-of-the mill locks so you won't be cracking any safes with this one. They run for $150.

B&B's three protagonists are all fans of the not yet long-lost art of letter writing; what's the other option? Functioning as the email system of previous entries, mailboxes work hand-in-and with the telephone to keep you up to date on your compatriots in a constantly changing world. In conjunction with newspaper ads, you can also send mail-in orders to anything ranging from limited edition safehouse furnishings to rebate vehicles. Don't mind the wait times.

No internet and the ARAPNET's a far cry from the world wide web - the fourth estate in B&B comes exclusively in paper form. Purchasable for no more than a buck, every day a new headline detailing anything from the results of your criminal exploits to the highs and lows of a nation at war. Every edition comes in sections:

  1. Front Page: Usually reserved for the worldly reverberations of your protagonist's activities, the front page details the big news: violence, velocity, variety - when you're in between set-piece missions you'll have to settle for the escapades of the government, both local and federal at all levels of corruption.
  2. Classifieds: A perpetual wink-wink-nudge-nudge, the classifieds serve as guidance for the player when it comes to odd jobs, favors, and side-missions statewide. A good number of them are unique to that newspaper's cycle, so if you're hot for cash you better move your ass.
  3. Sports and Entertainment: The good ol' things - printed TV guide, movie theatre reviews, and action ranging from college football to chickens crossing roads. The latter serves special interests to Dante - inform yourself on the Venturas odds if you plan on covering the spread.

B&B will explore the drastic changes that took hold as America entered the 1970s with civil issues abound. Views of race, morality and prosperity were changing faster than many could keep up; economic instability, the perfect arena for criminals to thrive. After finishing the current period's set of missions, a cutscene will segue you into the groove of the next, coming with it the intro of any new features.

  • 1968: We're dropped into 1968 - the status quo of the 60s is being uplifted by the reactionary roots of the counterculture movement. With issues never before questioned being raised like a house on fire, you'll find the year's period of uncertainty shown in every facet of west coast culture.
  • 1971: Three years down the road, society is in a full-blown hippie haze. Music's loud and mind-bending, cars are tough and hard-bodied, the people are free and easy-going. It's a utopia for those of a certain mindset - but you better enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause it ain't lasting.
  • 1974: Ain't lasting indeed: reality always takes time to set in, doesn't it? Three years in this case - even as a certain war ends and things should be ever-better, failed political conspiracies and worldwide oil crises take a toll on even the most gonzo of places. Brass tacks are back, Jack, and they're not pretty.

A more in-depth version of the system in Red Dead Redemption, B&B's reputation system analyzes all gameplay choices to give your characters their unique personas. While the protagonists already have their goals in mind as the game begins, it is up to you to truly shape how they reach them. Inconsistency between cutscenes and gameplay is no more; everything is taken into account. Frequent visits to "massage" parlors as Doug may yield hostility from his wife and quips from his friends as word of mouth travels. Instigating street fights as Dante will make him feared as tied in to the Violence section above, but winning them may earn him higher payouts in the fight cages.
This extends to business, too. Julius' tenure as president of his courier service is directly influenced by how much you care about it. Ensuring packages are delivered safely and without drama will earn you more business and bigger contracts. Ignoring it altogether will equally ensure its foreclosure - you'll have to find prosperity elsewhere. How you dress, act, and conduct business shapes your people more than ever.

The times of pulling an arsenal from your protagonist's ass are over. It's now necessary to strategize your stockpile depending on your circumstances - you can only carry what you can carry. All three protagonists have a default storage locker in their first safehouse; when you advance to better digs it's your prerogative to buy another. There are three methods of weapon storage:

  1. Concealed carry: Continued state of affairs, but only to an extent. The trio all carry handgun holsters on their person by default; Julius and Dante a single on the waistband and Doug a dual shoulder. New sheaths will be unlocked as the story progresses, and you'll have to equip them depending on your approach to the task at hand - rifle holsters are exposed and intimidating and ankle holsters can be carried into restricted areas. If you are busted, any holster-bound weapons will be confiscated.
  2. Trunk cache: Weapons can be freely moved from holster to lockup to trunk, but think before you act - the car goes down in flames, so does your stockpile. Trunk storage has its advantages in flexibility and mobility; it's a moving arsenal that can be brought anywhere anytime. Like holsters, your trunk cache can be upgraded from the very basics to a card-carrying armory.
  3. Rental lockups: A certain man might stick with his daily dependable .44 while keeping the rest of his weapons on ice. As in life, you get what you pay for - a seedy motel charging $5 a night might be convenient to store your stockpile, but it's susceptible to police raids more than a storage locker or, say, a Von Crastenberg hotel. Choose wisely.



1968. A seemingly perpetual overseas war on the horizon, and it's no different at home. Between the commies and their robust firepower and American-made weaponry being smuggled back home, there's certainly no shortage of deadly instruments flowing onto the streets of San Fierro and Las Venturas. You'll find weapons befitting their constituents - the Triads and their Mao-made SMGs, biker 'Nam vets with their powerful pistols.


As always, certain protagonists carry certain perks - in this case, Doug already has a fairly adequate arsenal at the game's start courtesy of his time in the service. As for the other two - status quo antebellum.






Edited by Cebra
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Temporarily removed due to incompatibility with forum update

Edited by Cebra
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Edited by Cebra
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As always, vehicles can be purchased or stolen at the player's leisure. However, as each protagonist has a default vehicle replacement default vehicles have to comply with certain rules as to still make sense in cutscenes and gameplay; Doug's replacement must always be a sedan, Dante's a coupé and Julius' a convertible. Otherwise, legal purchases of extra vehicles works as normal. Given how B&B takes place from the years 1968 to 1974 separated by missions, cars only appear in the year their respective model first appeared in real life.




Doug's replacement vehicles:

1965 Schyster Prolix



1968 Barbican Monitor



1970 Vapid VIP



1973 Chariot Europa



1967 Albany Emperor




Dante's replacement vehicles options:

1967 Imponte NFI



1968 Imponte Dukes



1973 Imponte Phoenix



1969 Declasse Vigero F3X




Julius' replacement vehicle options:

Albany Manana



1960 Declasse Voodoo



1966 Imponte Tiburon



1970 Dundreary Count



Civilian Vehicles:


[table]Model Name


RL Counterpart

Year of availability


Albany Ace

Cadillac Calais



Albany Buccaneer

Buick Riviera



Albany Cosa

Cadillac Fleetwood



Albany Emperor

Cadillac Deville



Albany Fila (1st gen.)

Cadillac Series 62



Albany Fila (2nd gen.)

Cadillac Series 62



Albany Manana

Cadillac Eldorado ('63)



Albany Tosto

Cadillac DeVille



Albany Virgo

Cadillac Eldorado ('70)



Annis Drassock

Datsun Fairlady



Annis Heaver

Datsun 320



Annis Philanderer

Datsun 1200



Barbican Clover

Plymouth Duster



Barbican Commuter

Plymouth Station Wagon ('73)



Barbican Monitor

Plymouth Satellite



Barbican Piranha

Plymouth Barracuda



Barbican Gaspille

Plymouth Special Deluxe



Barbican Roxboro

Plymouth Station Wagon ('57)



Barbican Veranda

Plymouth Belvedere



BBC Consulate

AMC Ambassador



BBC Critter

AMC Gremlin



BBC Scimitar

AMC Javelin



Benefactor Glendale

Mercedes-Benz W108



Benefactor Glendale Royale

Mercedes-Benz 600



Benefactor Feltzer

Mercedes-Benz 280 SL



Benefactor Magnum

Mercedes-Benz 190 SL



Benefactor Perfidia

Mercedes-Benz W186



BF Metzprano

Volkswagen Karmann Ghia



BF Injection

Volkswagen Baja Bug



BF Kolepa

Volkswagen Golf



BF Roachee

Volkswagen Beetle



BF Surfer

Volkswagen Type 2



BF Synergy

Volkswagen 1600



Bravado Bison

Dodge D-Series



Bravado Bolt

Dodge Dart



Bravado Calhoun

Dodge A100



Bravado Duneloader

Dodge Power Wagon



Bravado Gauntlet

Dodge Challenger



Bravado Javelin

Dodge Lancer



Bravado Meridian

Dodge Polara



Bravado Garland

Dodge Coronet



Bravado Rumpo

Dodge Tradesman 100



Brute Boxville

Dodge Step Van



Brute Camper

Dodge Travco



Canis Bodhi

Jeep M715



Canis Capsule

Citroen SM



Canis Kalahari

Citroen Méhari



Canis Raider

Jeep Commando



Canis Trafficker

Jeep Wagoneer



Canis Warsaw

Jeep CJ5



Cheval Corrida

Chevrolet El Camino ('58)



Cheval Fugitive

Holden Kingswood



Cheval Picador

Chevrolet El Camino ('68)



Cirrus Alto

Nash Rambler



Cirrus Mercuria

Nash Healey



Classique Atwood

Oldsmobile 98



Classique Hurricado

Oldsmobile Toronado



Classique Stallion

Oldsmobile Cutlass



Classique Supernova

Oldsmobile Starfire



Classique Tango

Oldsmobile Delta 88



Classique Vizina

Oldsmobile L-37



Declasse Asea

Chevrolet Corvair



Declasse Burrito (1st gen.)

Chevrolet Van



Declasse Burrito (2nd gen.)

Chevrolet Van



Declasse Coquette

Chevrolet Corvette



Declasse Granger

Chevrolet Suburban



Declasse Jacqueline

Chevrolet Stylemaster



Declasse Largo

Chevrolet Fleetline



Declasse Mamba

AC Cobra



Declasse Merit

Chevrolet Caprice



Declasse Montana

Chevrolet Bel Air



Declasse Rancher

Ford Bronco



Declasse Tahoma

Chevrolet Monte Carlo



Declasse Tampa

Chevrolet Nova



Declasse Vigero FX3

Chevrolet Camaro ZL1



Declasse Voodoo (1st gen.)

Chevrolet Impala



Declasse Voodoo (2nd gen.)

Chevrolet Impala



Declasse Walton

Chevrolet Task Force



Dewbauchee Bight

Aston Martin Lagonda



Dewbauchee JB-700

Aston Martin DB5



Dewbauchee R-77

Aston Martin 15/98



Dinka Blista

Honda Civic



Dinka Chavos

Peugeot 304



Dinka Cube

Honda N600



Dinka DP420

Honda CB160



Dinka Enduro

Honda CB250



Dundreary Admiral

Mercury Monterey



Dundreary Brigand

Mercury Marauder



Dundreary Count

Mercury Marquis



Dundreary Hellenbach GT

Mercury Cougar



Dundreary Hermes

Mercury Eight



Dundreary Insular

Lincoln Continental



Dundreary Regina

Mercury Colony Park



Dundreary Stretch

Mercury Limo



Enus Cognoscenti

Bentley S2



Enus Lazarus

Bentley T1 Coupe



Enus Super Diamond

Rolls-Royce Phantom V



Enus Windsor

Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow



Grotti Cheetah

Ferrari Dino



Grotti Stinger

Ferrari 250 GTO



Grotti Stinger SS

Ferrari 365 GT/4



Grotti Turismo

Ferrari 375 MM



Imponte Cochise

Pontiac Star Chief



Imponte DePalma

Pontiac Grand Prix



Imponte DF8-90

Pontiac Grand Am



Imponte Dukes

Dodge Charger



Imponte Malpais

Pontiac Bonneville



Imponte NFI

Pontiac GTO



Imponte Nightshade

Chevrolet Camaro



Imponte Tiburon

Pontiac Catalina



Karin Asterope

Toyota Corona



Karin Dilettante

Toyota Corolla



Karin Rebel

Toyota Hilux



Lampadati Casco

Maserati 3500 GT



Lampadati Felon

Maserati Quattroporte



Lampadati Foeni

Maserati Ghibli Spyder



Lampadati Tropos

Lancia Stratos



Nagasaki Blazer

Honda Three-Wheeler



Nagasaki Havarti

Yamaha AS1C 125



Nicollet Ardor

DeSoto Firedome



Nicollet Furto

DeSoto Adventurer



Ocelot Caracal

Jaguar Mark X



Ocelot Minx

Jaguar XJ



Ocelot Oncilla

Jaguar XK-E



Pegassi Esskey

Ducati Scrambler



Pegassi Faggio

Piaggio Vespa



Pegassi Infernus

Lamborghini Countach



Pegassi Monroe

Lamborghini Miura



Pegassi Oceania

Lotus Europa



Pegassi Vacca

Lamborghini Urraco



Pfister Comet

Porsche 911



Pfister Ribelle

Porsche 550



Schyster Bayadere

Chrysler 300B



Schyster Libertonian

Chrysler New Yorker



Truffade X-Type

Bugatti Type 57C



Truffade Z-Type

Bugatti Type 57



Übermacht Oracle

BMW 528



Übermacht Sentinel

BMW 2002



Vapid Blade

Ford Falcon



Vapid Bobcat

Chevrolet C/10



Vapid Boho

Ford Maverick



Vapid Bullet

Ford GT40



Vapid Chino

Lincoln Continential Coupe



Vapid Dominator

Ford Mustang



Vapid Fortune

Ford Thunderbird ('61)



Vapid Peyote

Ford Thunderbird ('55)



Vapid Shetland

Ford Pinto



Vulcar Hink

Volvo P1800



Edited by Cebra
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[table]Model Name, year

RL Counterpart

Year of availability[/tr]

Vulcar Ingot

Volvo 240


Willard Bulwark

Buick Skylark


Willard Faction

Buick Regal


Willard Gaia

Buick Electra 225


Willard Marbelle

Ford Granada


Willard Rubicon

Buick Riviera


Willard Solair

Buick Caballero


Willard Soledad

Buick Roadmaster


Würst Apache

Stutz Blackhawk


Würst Legate

Stutz Diplomatica


Utility Vehicles:

[table]Model Name, year

RL Counterpart

Year of availability

Brute Boxville

Chevrolet Step Van


Brute Bus

Twin Coach Bus


DUDE Cement Truck

International Harvester S-2500


DUDE Dozer

Caterpillar D6B


HVY Biff

Ford Super-Duty


JoBuilt Hauler

Peterbilt 362


JoBuilt Phantom

Peterbilt 251


JoBuilt Trashmaster

GMC L4000


MTL Flatbed

GMC 13-Ton


Vapid Mule

Ford 600 Series


Vapid Towtruck (1st gen)

Ford F-350


Vapid Towtruck (2nd gen)

Ford F-350


Emergency Vehicles:

[table]Model Name, year

RL Counterpart

Year of availability

Highway Cruiser (1st gen)

Oldsmobile Delmont


Highway Cruiser (2nd gen)

Dodge Polara


LVPD Cruiser

Ford Galaxie


SFPD Cruiser (1st gen)

Ford Custom


SFPD Cruiser (2nd gen)

Ford Galaxie


Unmarked Interceptor

Dodge Polara


[/table] Edited by Cebra
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  • 3 weeks later...

Just a question. Are you keeping SF & LV in one state/map like in SA or is it to completely separate cities?

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Just a question. Are you keeping SF & LV in one state/map like in SA or is it to completely separate cities?

Together. The stories will be more or less separate, but SA and LV will be adjacent to each other.

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  • 11 months later...

Sweet stuff, mate! The gameplay feautures are great, and so are the character descriptions. Coolio!

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What an update. I'm seriously hyped for this.


One thing I picked up on that I didn't notice before - the story spans from 1968 to 1974? I would love to hear more about how a transition like this would transpire.

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Sweet stuff, mate! The gameplay feautures are great, and so are the character descriptions. Coolio!


What an update. I'm seriously hyped for this.

One thing I picked up on that I didn't notice before - the story spans from 1968 to 1974? I would love to hear more about how a transition like this would transpire.

Glad to hear you guys are hyped! I've noticed lots of people on the forum hoping for a game set in this time period (and before anyone says anything - I had the idea before Mafia III :lol:). I just wish that the GTA Series Forum was back where it used to be on the sidebar so all our concepts could get more visibility.

Ideally I'd like to have B&B progress naturally, but if this was a real game then that wouldn't work because of people's different playing styles. The game will be separated into four distinct chapters separated by big missions: 1968, '69, '70 and '71-'74. Think Assassin's Creed (but with less time in between) where you can fill in the blanks yourself. From 1971 to '74, the change won't be as drastic and instead time passes in between missions. As I get further along in writing the story I'll be fine-tuning it, but I think this is the best approach.

Edited by PhilosophicalZebra
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  • 2 weeks later...

It sounds pretty good to me. I like the idea of having a big mission before a passage of time, and I could imagine sort of an introduction mission after it just so we could get used to things that are changed. The 1968 to 1974 really appeals to me because there's so much going on between then. You could potentially see three presidents, plus the thick of and finally the end of the Vietnam War. Period settings like this always interest me because I'd find myself immersed in the setting and then go to a book to read more about what was going on back then.


Also, I'm really liking the changes you've made to the vehicle section! :) I'm surprised no one has bought up how clever (and outright convenient) the replacement vehicles feature is. We need more freedom like that.

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A blinding white light slowly fades into a hazy yellow. As the screen becomes clearer, the theme music and credits begin to play and we focus on the scene; the soon-setting sun beads a dark orange cast onto blocks upon blocks of rundown concrete buildings. In the shadow of the nearest lies a rectangular wooden structure, its chimney billowing smoke into the atmosphere. A man walks his dog down a gravel path nearby, but aside from them the place is desolate. View from the ground: from the gravel path a convertible pulls in behind the building, slowly, tentatively.

The camera shifts abruptly and we see two vehicles, a Dundreary Brigand followed by a Déclassé Rancher, speed up the same path. As the first car turns into the wooden place's parking lot, its passenger signals with a hand for the pickup to continue down the road. It speeds forward kicking dirt as the Brigand comes to a stop in front of the building, a sign reading Iron Inn now clearly falling off its distinctly wooden hinges at the entrance. Bennie Bartok steps out of the passenger seat, removes his sunglasses and stuffs them into his red leather jacket. The music fades down but the credits continue as he leans into the window.

"Keep your ass planted to the seat, fella. Make sure your hermanos keep circling the block and if I ain't back in ten minutes you all come in guns-a-blazin'. Got it?"

The driver - a skinny Latino - nods and hands Bennie a suitcase from under the seat. He grabs it, looks 360°, heads inside.

The perspective shifts inside the bar. All beaten-down wood, it's vacant except for our first protagonist, Julius Cole, sitting at the bar, and a chef in the back kitchen. Walk Away Renee drones quietly from the jukebox. We get an eye on Julius: he's just arrived, but makes it looks like he's been waiting ages. As he sips his milk he spins in his seat toward Bennie and lets him speak first as the theme quiets;

"Suppose you're the guy. I thought this was set up as a public deal, what gives? This place's dead inside and out."
Julius eyes him carefully. "I don't make the deals, cat, just carry 'em out. That the stuff?" The chef in the kitchen wipes down the pass, eyes Benny nervously, ad nauseam.
Bennie nods, smirks: "You hope it is. Where's the dough?"
"I got it, don't worry. Only, I hear that you ain't the most trustworthy cat on the block. You mind lettin' me see the sh*t first?"
A hand to his heart. "Ah, that hurts. Not thirty seconds and you're already judging me." He pauses all serious, breaks out into a laugh. "Yeah you can see it, baby. All here."

He props the metal suitcase onto the bar top with a thud and opens the latches. Inside, at least a dozen sealed packages of who-knows-what.

"Alright, brother, you cool." Julius gets up, goes around the bar and grabs his own suitcase: $5,000 cash courtesy of David Arnold. He puts it on the bar alongside the other one and watches Bennie swallow a few bennies from a foil wrapper.

"You know, I'll take your word for the money," Bennie says. His shaky hands show that he couldn't count it even if he wanted to. "I got a feeling we're gonna cross paths again - Davie keeps a small circle. Call me Bennie next time."
Julius half-smiles. "So you say. The name's Julius."
They shake hands. Bennie says "Don't I know it, fella," smiles and walks back out the door he came in.

Julius grabs the remaining suitcase and pulls a note - Bennie B. I always got work! and a phone number - He stuffs it, chef pipes up: "That cat ain't right, brother. I know a toad when I see one."

"Them's the breaks if you wanna catch yourself some flies." Julius tips an invisible hat to him - "See you, Louie."


Head out back to Julius' Willard Gaia. He places the suitcase on the back seat and hops in front - the Brigand and Rancher eastbound, Bennie's peace-signed fingers sticking out the passenger window. Julius smirks, shakes his head, shifts into first as the theme morphs into Everyday People - he kicks down the gravel road toward the city, and we get a full view for the first time: downtown San Fierro outlined by the bright setting sun. The typical GTA city ride-around begins alongside the credits; Julius heads into the city as we're treated to its landmarks - a God's view of the busy Crimson Way Bridge near Flamenco Island; the beginnings of the Montgomery Monolith; a pass-over of the Center of Quattrocento. Julius rides into Suppleham, an arm on the door belt. He checks out a gal leading a poodle down the crosswalk - she smiles, the light turns green, and he keeps going - but the camera stays behind. It abruptly drifts 90° to a brick building in a line of storefronts; a bar named The Bar. From behind the camera a man in a USMC-sleeved jacket shuffles inside.


The door chimes as Doug Pryor makes his way into a busy scene. The place is much less desolate than the inn - every seat wrapped around an L-shaped bar is full of chattering men and women. The bartender - Monica - running between half-made cocktails, raises a hand in the air to acknowledge her regular. Doug offers her his best smile as a couple of oldsters eave a window booth arguing about pears. Doug takes the vacant spot, removes his old Corps jacket and sighs. We get a view of the street outside - happy couples, briefcases and suits, lone people walking their dogs go up and down the sidewalks as cars rumble along beside them. The credits continue out of the way. The perspective switches to behind Monica as she brings Doug his perennial tonic, an Old Fashioned. She puts it down on top of a napkin, smiles and turns away before he can speak a word - as if he would have. As he takes his first sip, the door chimes again as a man in a brown flight jacket and fedora enters and makes his way to Doug's booth. Marcus Vogel removes his hat, sits down and folds his arms.

"What in God's name is so important I had to shlep out here for?"
"I needed to get out of the house, you know." Doug leans forward.
Marcus nods. "Yeah - that's great and all, but I was perfectly content sitting on my ass reading the funnies."
Doug - straight to the point. "I just found out that Eddy Segal lives in Calton Heights."

"No sh*t? Small world."

"Itty-bitty. You prick."


No words - it's clear that Marcus had the scoop and didn't tell.


"Alright, look - I knew you'd want to know, I just didn't think you needed to know, you dig?"

"I don't dig. You've put me in a very bad mood, Marcus."

"F*ck off, I don't need your sh*t."

"Likewise. You coming?"

Marcus nods and slides out of the booth. Doug places a fiver on the table and exits the bar, Marcus shadowing him.

You gain control of Doug. The camera focuses on his blue Vapid Messier parallel parked across the street as the objective appears: Get in the car. As you attempt to cross the street, a familiar convoy of a Brigand followed by a dark Rancher speed down first, nearly mowing you down. Doug flips the bird before getting in his car, Marcus beside him. The driving controls appear in the upper left; extra long if you've chosen manual transmission. Squeeze your way out of the line of parked cars and follow the mini-map route.

Marcus: "This car is a piece of sh*t."
"I'm aware. But you had to bike here, so I'd pass on passing judgement for the time being."
"C'mon, I know for a fact you've always wanted an Enus - get yourself an Enus."
"Are you stoned? I'd settle for a steady supply of food stamps; if I want an Enus I'll head up to the Outlook and break a window."
"That's a bad idea. You know, I can hook you up for some stamps - good price."

"Oh, I'm glad to see you've demeaned yourself to stealing from the poor."

"The moral high-ground falls through when you're poor yourself. Death and taxes, you know."

"We're in the same boat, Mark. I got a guy-"

"We should be in the same boat. In a literal sense."

"I know, but really. You know the guy up in 5G - the uh, Asian fusion?"

"Marquez? He's a bum."

"There are things on the horizon with him. Good things - and unlike you, I'll be sure to keep you in the loop."

"You do that."

Continue up San Fierro's winding roads at whatever pace you desire, being sure to eye the hard-bodied vehicles of the era. When you reach the destination, you'll see Edward Segal's place of residence - a white three story townhouse nestled between a dozen identical ones. Anonymous. Expensive. A shiny yellow Coquette sits in the slanted driveway.

The perspective switches to inside the Messier. The pair stare at the house and the sports car.

Doug: "F*cking asshole. Screw the Enus, I'd like to break that f*cking window."

Marcus grabs a pack of Redwoods from his breast pocket, puts one in his mouth and hands Doug another. They light up.

"Listen, Doug, Joanna keeps telling you-"
"Don't bring her into this."
"Don't play the battered wife card - she's right. She knows what's best for you, and lamenting on that f*ck-up ain't it. Bringing the past to the present - even worse."
"I can't believe he's so close. You know I haven't talked to him since they passed down the sentence? I bet the f*cker's holding a whole Goddamn armory in there."

"Let's go."

Doug shifts into first gear and hits the gas. The camera shoots into a bird's eye view and launches across San Fierro by way of the Crimson Bay Bridge and the desert, smack into the middle of Las Venturas. We focus on a big building's tin facade glistening in the sunlight - big blue letters reading La Penisola blinking over a row of a dozen glass doors. A shiny red Albany pulls to the curb of the crescent driveway and we meet our final intro, Dante, with his uncle Jackie the passenger.


Dante puts it in park - "Lemme guess - I don't get the privilege of entry."

"You get the privilege today." Jackie checks himself out in the mirror. "I look okay? I was right, this tie looks like it belongs on a f*cking clown suit."

"It's Ponsonbys, Uncle Jackie. You can't go wrong."

"Sonny'll appreciate it. Come on."

Take control of Dante as he exits the car. Head inside one of the doors, into a grand entry hall full of marble and glass, and past the big game room: dozens upon dozens of slot machines sitting empty over a floral red carpet. Further down, it morphs to blackjack, roulette, poker, baccarat - green felt tables awaiting their dealers. Instead, they receive the asses of Silver Sixes' moving company's workers who think they're on lunch.


Jackie: "Get back to work - you want Mr. D'Aversa to see you slacking off?"

"Union-declared break." A worker thinks he's funny. Jackie hasn't used his zygomaticus major since the Depression.


Through gold and red French doors, the office: more carpet, more red. Around a wooden bar sit the brass: Carlo D'Aversa, Jon Gravelli, even Sonny Cangelosi, on unwrapped leather stools. They stop mid-convo to acknowledge the Gallos; they raise their drinks and Sonny stands and opens his arms.


Jackie walks into the embrace. "Bravo, Santino."

"Thank you, Giacomo. It's been a long time coming."

Dante butts in: "Sure has, Mr. Cangelosi. When's opening night?"

"Whenever that little sh*t Nino Lisi frees up his schedule." He turns his attention to Carlo D'Aversa. "This kid, I tell you, he's got some balls. You know, I offered him twice the-"


Sonny's talk gets delegated to the background. Jon ignores him as well, grabs everyone's glasses and hands them to Dante. "Rye."


Dante scoffs and walks behind the bar. The clink of ice cubes comes before the sloshing of liquid in tumblers as Dante finishes pouring, eyes up and back down trying to hear what Sonny has to say. We see this from Jon Gravelli's perspective as he moves forward from his seat.


He talks, looking at Dante but speaking elsewhere: "Jackie, the kid up for driving?"

"I am."

Jackie overrules: "Depends on the business."

"Important stuff. The zoning commission won't get off Amerigo's ass about the parking lot's limits; anything to bring down legitimate business from under the hand of an Italian."

Dante laughs although he's no longer being spoken to. "Oh yeah?"

"Me and Sonny are gonna go meet our friend with the nose on the West Side. Jackie, you mind keeping Carlo company in the meantime? Kid's got the jitters."


Downing his own drink, Dante shrugs as Gravelli tosses him a pair of keys. You gain control of him, directed to leave the casino and find the car in the parking lot - but you are free to explore the building. You'll see the rows of slot machines glisten, never used, and the carpet floor spotless. All is lit by hundreds of yellow-hued lights spread across the ceiling. Further down, near the roulette tables, a group of Gambetti goons carry cardboard boxes inside from a side door, heaving creative insults back and forth alongside the boxes, clearly over their lunch break. La Penisola is very new, very expensive, and, above all, a do-or-die.

When you make your way outside followed by Sonny and Gravelli, you'll find the black Glendale Royale parked in the lot. Take your time, admire the atmosphere: the strip homes twice the amount of cars than it does pedestrians, who all convene in groups at casino doors. At every angle of your vision is a flashing sign advertising a casino, a product, a hotel, waiting for darkness to fall to fully shine. Alternately, jump straight into the car. Allow the mafiosi to get in the back seat and take off. The radio is dialed to Chances Are

- let the music sink in and enjoy or change the station to something a bit more modern - Radioactive Radio plays Steppenwolf. Don't like either? Play spin the dial; try your luck.

A grumpy mumble, the first time Sonny speaks direct: "Don't change the frequency, it depreciates the value."

Follow the minimap route down the roads, taking into account their contrast with those of San Fierro - fresh pavement, operating in grids instead of winding disarray. Make your way down the strip, passing by older casinos brimming with eager moneywasters and through a few quiet residential areas as your surroundings become increasingly sh*tty. The men of honor in the back seat converse in Italian to Dante's annoyance although he was brought up pure Sicilian; he dropped the language like a bad habit upon his arrival in America.


Dante interrupts, hoping to catch a bit of English: "Say, Mr. Cangelosi, I hear you've got a choice Albany back in Liberty City. You swap to Benefactor on the west coast?"

"I call her Caterina. Cream leather seats, the best car money can buy." He snaps from a little trance - "Maybe the power of the almighty dollar is different on this side of the country, but his piece of sh*t is the best thing they had at the dealership. Testa di mierda, you ask me."

"It's not so bad. Real heavy, though."

"It's up here," says Gravelli when you reach the destination: a three-story apartment complex breaking apart at the seams. A neon sign reading Su ar Ray's M ni-Mart flickers above the street level entrance. Park up behind the baby blue BF Synergy curbside and let the two men exit.

"Idle the car. We're more than ten minutes I want you to circle the block", orders Gravelli as he slogs out.

A light bulb - Dante hops out of the driver's seat and helps Sonny out the back. He receives a pat on the shoulder in thanks.

He returns and lights a cigarette, opens his window. The West Side is misleadingly quiet during the day - other than a group of three perched on a nearby stoop the street is empty. Cars, still working, badly beat, line the sidewalks.

Just as Dante finishes his cigarette and you predict they might become a problem, the three men hanging out close by decide to approach the car. Dante reaches for his gun in the glove compartment before remembering that it's not his car.

He mutters "Sh*t" as Gangster #1 slides his hand up the hood. He hunches in front of the driver's window.

"This a real nice whip, man."
Dante nods. "Thanks. Mind keepin' your hands off it?" It's not posed as a question.
"Yeah, yeah, 'course." The other two hover in front of the vehicle cracking knuckles. Intimidation 101.
"Let me be frank." Dante mirrors their actions. "I know this thing's pretty nice but it ain't mine, it's my boss's. He'll be coming out any minute and I don't think he'll be thrilled to see a bunch of spooks admiring his car so closely."

Good timing: Gravelli, Sonny and a squat man in a cheap suit exit the building together. Gravelli's experienced eye knows what to do; he leaves the building with his suit jacket pulled back, allowing them to revere his holstered pistol. Wordless, the men walk back to their stoop together.

"f*cking moolies," Dante mutters.

Sonny turns to the short guy. "I'm very pleased we could come to an agreement, Mr. Decker."
Mr. Decker chuckles. "So will my wife. I'll have the right files mailed to your guy."

The mafiosi take turns shaking his hand, patting him on the back and Dante's face contorts. The man hops into his Synergy and speeds off as Gravelli and Sonny return to the back seat. Hit the gas.

Dante: "You ain't gonna ask what was going on back there?"
"Nice car, not-so-nice neighborhood. I can do the math," answers Gravelli.

"Alright. Where to?"

Sonny chimes in: "Bring us to Caligula's, Dante. Friend of mine needs a haircut."

Objective: Drive to Caligula's Palace.

As you make the first turn off the West Side, you'll notice a rusty Barbican Veranda shadowing you. "Bastards don't give up," Dante mutters. "Step on it, kid." Do that. Escape your pursuers as best as you can in a heavy car built for luxury - try the vacant alleyways between apartments, closed businesses, sand lots. When they're lost, you get a little praise from Cangelosi: "Good driving, my boy. Your uncle used to be quite the driver himself."

Pull into the U-shaped valet park in front of Caligula's and a valet will fetch the Glendale, eyeing you strangely if it's missing a door or two. The trio will step under the awning as Sonny lights a cigar, watching the sun set behind The Pink Swan across the street.

"You did well, kid. You really do remind me of your uncle."

Dante smirks. "Never heard that one. Sure hope it's a good thing."

Gravelli: "That's your call to make. Look where he is now."

Sonny walks into Caligula's with an ambiguous wave and Gravelli places some bills into Dante's hand before following his boss. Dante stuffs the cash into his pocket before joining the crowds down the strip aimlessly - the camera pans up to show the casinos in their entirety as Las Venturas lights up for the evening.



+ $25

Edited by Cebra
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Wow man. Fantastic way to introduce a game. I think you've actually got the honor of being the first person to approach a beginning mission which introduces multiple protagonists from the get go, so take a bow. :pp


Where do I start? As someone who isn't really too clued in on the sixties and how things were back then, even to me it shines through how much time and research you must have put in to make this read as good as it does. The way your characters speak and act; Julius with the suspicion of an Elmore Leonard character; Bennie popping bennies; Doug, weary and to the point; the Mafiosi with the business-speak that somehow can't mask their sleaze. You've made the broader aspects of this concept like the music and the vehicles sing for you (literally -- loved the soundtrack) and it's allowed you to create a setting that really stands apart.


You're obviously a talented writer so I'm glad you're putting your skills to use in the dialogues and descriptions with little descriptive gems like, "Gravelli's experienced eye knows what to do; he leaves the building with his suit jacket pulled back, allowing them to revere his holstered pistol. Wordless, the men walk back to their stoop together." and, "Follow the minimap route down the roads, taking into account their contrast with those of San Fierrofresh pavement, operating in grids instead of winding disarray." from the final, Las Venturas portion of the mission. Not only do you handle multiple protagonists without skimping on the details but multiple cities too.


I also liked how you've addressed something I was skeptical about in your very first mission: The Commission and the returning characters involved in it. At first I thought to myself why not just create other characters because "Italian in Las Venturas" is kind of an easy stock image to imagine, but having Jon Gravelli and other Gambettis out there creates speculation from the very beginning, the same as the surname "Arnold" gets you thinking how do the AOD fit into this? Why are they working with a black guy -- what changed to fuel their racist attitudes come 2008? I'm already wondering what they're doing out there, who's going to f*ck who, how things will succeed (or fail). It is also helped a lot by you creating a believable portrayal of a young Jon Gravelli, from his appearance so far.


Thoroughly enjoyed and I hope to see much, much more soon! :^:

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Glad you enjoyed it, man. I was initially wary of introducing all three protagonists in the first mission, but now I think it was the best choice. It shouldn't feel like any one of them is less important because they're introduced later.


The Commission being part of this actually happened by fluke. I was originally only going to include the Gambettis because I thought it would be interesting to see both Jon Gravelli in his prime (if you can call it that :p) and to give a face to Sonny Cangelosi. I was looking for a picture to represent some Gambetti higher-ups when I found the one from Casino that I'm now using for The Commission. IMO, the guy to the left of the table looks a bit like Jon Gravelli and the guy in the middle looks like a typical fat Pavano soldier in GTA IV. So it clicked: why not implement every single family?


I didn't know too much about the subject when I first created this concept, but I had been reading about how the mob in 70s Vegas wasn't so much of a takeover anymore as it was a last resort to keep a bit of power. All the casinos were being bought out by organizations instead of being owned independently (i.e. by the mob) so I thought I could implement all Five Families into B&B as a way to explain their allegiances 40 years later in IV: the way they treated each other at the turn of the 70s. I think this way I can also offer more perspective into how truly desperate the Mafia was to keep a hold on Vegas/Venturas at this time.


Do expect more soon :)

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Looking at this concept, I'm very impressed! I have a feeling this will be the best concept of 2016. As for the soundtrack, I'm expecting to see songs from artists like Golden Earring, Jimi Hendrix,

, Kenny Rogers and others! Can't wait to see what you've got in store for us next. Edited by Ivan1997GTA
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Looking at this concept, I'm very impressed! I have a feeling this will be the best concept of 2016. As for the soundtrack, I'm expecting to see songs from artists like Golden Earring, Jimi Hendrix,

, Kenny Rogers and others! Can't wait to see what you've got in store for us next.
Glad you have faith in it, I can only hope. :p


You expect right. I've got most of those artists in the works now, just waiting for some help with the station logos since I'm useless with that. Should be up in the next few days.

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  • 4 months later...



The fade to black of the previous mission drops abruptly and you're thrown right back into the action as Julius, barreling down a straight road in his Gaia surrounded by brickwork factories and f*ck-all else. Maintain your steering if you don't feel like heaving yourself out of a ditch.


Objective: Reach the chop shop.


You'll see it soon: an orange-bricked little building with cracked windows and a dozen choppers parked out front. Pull into the lot and learn how to give your vehicle the switch from convertible to not; it's nightfall. Cue cutscene: Julius grabs the product-packed suitcase from between the seats and hops out. Foreign land to him, he circles half the shop before finding yellow light pouring out a back door—inside, more or less what you would expect: machismo galore. A good half dozen guys working on their bikes babbling, cigarette smoke and blowtorch burn filling the air. He tries to find a face behind the beards and taps one on the shoulder, who spins around and gives him a suspicious look-over.


"You meant to be here?" He pulls a cigar from his mouth.

"Depends. One of you fellas David Arnold?"

"Dave's in the cave." He points to an office behind a steel door. "And keep your hands seen—don't want no problems now."


Julius nods and walks to the door. Before opening it, he looks through a nearby mesh wire window into the cave: a big man even sitting down, bearded like all others and wearing a biker jacket patched Redwood, talks to an equally tall but much less rugged guy. The second guy looks official: black suit, black tie, black oxfords. Not a wrinkle at hand, though one would guess he's fallen into his 50s.

After a quick decision to walk instead of knock, Julius enters. The men turn to him, #2 with an inquisitive look.


Tall, seated beard — David Arnold. We see Julius' eyes rifle through #2's wrinkles in an effort to knock a sense of familiarity into his mind: nada.


"Mr. Cole!" Arnold flicks a cigarette onto the concrete floor. "I see you got a nice little something-something for me there."


Julius drops the suitcase onto a cement desk strewn with sh*t: a six-shooter, bloody cop badge, two dozen dusty papers and a broken bottle of Pisswasser. A flip of the latches and he stands back, allowing his new employer to admire the product.


Arnold claps his hands together and walks to the desk. Over his shoulder, you can see his buddy give Julius a half-assed smirk.


"Gimme the knife," Arnold barks at smirky, who pulls a Swiss-army from the inside of his lapel. Arnold takes it and cuts a fine slit along the top of a white package. It bleeds more white: powder. He scoops a bit up the length of the knife and doesn't hesitate to snort it up.


#2 finally speaks: "Don't judge the product from what you're sniffing. I told you, you've got to mainline it for a full rush."

Arnold spins around. "You sure about that? 'Cause I gotta say, I'd be pretty damn chipper with this rush."

"I'm sure." He stands up and takes his knife back. Arnold shuts the suitcase and hands it to him, they shake hands.

"Nice to see you, Dave."



Julius watches the jiver as he walks out of the room and holds back a flinch when he receives a pat on the shoulder. The man closes the door behind him, leaving employer and employee alone.

Arnold lights another cigarette and offers one to Julius who raises a palm in answer.


"Don't mind him," Arnold lips around his cigarette as he zippos it. "Narc probes seem to make a fella real touchy-feely."


Julius leans against the wall and looks out the little window into the garage. As Out Of Focus

gives way to Helter Skelter he watches two bikers scuffle over the record player until a third threatens them with a blowtorch. "Narc probes don't sound too fun."

"Oh they certainly ain't, but they're the cost of business and I consider it a cheap price to pay."

"How's that?"

"It's a great system. The pigs are already spread paper thin, they have better things to do than chase this pussycat powder across the nation. But f*ck help us if they ever assemble a proper task force."

Julius crosses his arms. "Still don't seem like something to tell a prospective runner."

"I like your style," Arnold says between puffs. "You know when to get down to brass tacks. Now don't take this wrong, but you don't talk like I expected. Where you from?

"I picked up the lingo cross-country 'cause it seems to help old white folk get past their own preconceptions." Deadpan snark: "And my brother went to college."

Arnold chuckles, ignores the redirect. "Articulate and adaptive, you're shapin' up to be a real safe bet on my part.”

He throws the butt onto the floor and it lands next to the first. "I guess I should pay you now, huh?"

"I'd say so."


Arnold rises from his chair and walks over to another desk poised against the office's back wall. He opens a drawer and pulls out $100 in sawbucks.


"Not bad for ten minutes work, is it?" He hands Julius the cash and they shake. A first: Julius smiles.

"I'd be happy capping a C-note if that were so, but ain't the reward for the risk?"

"Depends how you took at it. I'd say the reward's in the risk."

A quick nod; Julius smirks again. “Yeah, you seem like that sorta guy.”


Arnold wraps his leather-clad arm around Julius's shoulders—apparently Mr. Suit isn't the only touchy-feely guy around.


“So I called and you took the bait. That's a start, now tell me straight-up—how far are you willing to go for a payday?”


Julius squirms from both the touchy-feeliness and poor choice of words.


“I ain't naïve. A brother’s gotta get some blood on his hands to make a buck in this city. Never been afraid’a that.”


Arnold removes his arm. “Good to hear, 'cause I got some bloody work ahead. You're in a good place—you done a couple jobs for me and kept your mouth shut doing it. Come with me.”


A snap back in control—follow Arnold out of the office and back into the garage as Helter Skelter amplifies. Notice the heads turn as you shadow him through another doorway and into a dimly lit, smoky hallway.


“Keep your head,” he whispers as he turns a key into a wooden door.


Keep your head indeed—a bloody man with a cloth over his face sitting in a chair under a single light bulb, a serrated blade poking out of his shoulder. Beside him stands Impotent Rage in a leather jacket, a foot wider and taller than David Arnold. Where the leader's jacket is blank his reads Vice President. His white hair is matted bloody over one hell of a manic expression.


As good a greeting as any: “Who the f*ck is this?”


We don't get an eye on Julius’ read of the situation.


Arnold speaks up. “Dirk, I told you about him. He's been running for us, he's our connect.”


Manic expression turned blank.


“He’s good and he's not the f*cking man.”


Arnold hobbles over and whispers something to Dirk we're not privy to, but it makes him grin.


“Ah.” No hesitation, Dirk yanks the knife out of the hostage’s shoulder and tosses it to Julius who fumbles to catch it. We see him for the first time—he's biting his lip.


As chairman screams, Dirk directs: “You wanna move on up, bobo? Finish the job.”

He moves to take the cloth off—Julius stops him. “Don’t need to see his face.”


No hesitation, no chance to reconsider. As Julius restrains himself from knifing the torturer instead, you are put in control to do the deed yourself. Push the indicated button and Julius thrusts the knife forward and into the man's neck. A sideways slice and a grunt; we see from behind the chair Arnold’s stoic expression. Julius stumbles backward and drops the knife with a clang as the man’s head lobs to the side and the cloth falls. Full view of the man’s pulpy face. Silence.


Broken: “I gotta say, that’s the quickest someone’s done it.”


Julius eyes Dirk. This happens often?


Arnold next, a touch over-excited: “I knew you were the right fella for this! Guy was a f*ckin’ heel, ‘case you’re wondering. I’m gonna find some good work for you, Cole, you’ll be damn pleased you came to see me.”


Wiping the blood off his hand, Julius begins back where he came in shaking his head.



Bloody Dirk takes a step forward. “Can’t just leave a body at the scene, pal. Get rid of it.”

Julius speaks to Arnold instead. “I wasn’t fixin’ to kill anybody tonight. Figured you would’ve had a plan for the cat.”

Arnold shrugs. “The last guy who went through with this hightailed it before we could get this far. You shank a guy because I point and say so and you want me to believe you ain’t got a hiding spot?”

“I got a hiding spot, just not for dead folk.”

Dirk: “Time to find one, part of the induction process.”

“He ain’t goin’ in my ride.”

“This is a chop shop. Plenty of cages to go ‘round. I thought you were a no objections guy, Kren.”


With a shrug, Julius moves back up to the body and heaves him up with the help of Dirk. We cut to black, a fade back in as the corpse is heaved into the trunk of a rusty Bravado Bolt. Julius moves to the front seat and Dirk the side.


Julius: “You coming with?”

Dirk puts his arms on the roof. “Look, brother. You shanked that guy right quick, but all that proves is that you’re a sheep and Dave’s already actin' your shepherd. Killing is our line of business. What’s important is if you can handle the follow-up, and that remains to be seen.”


He gets in the car. Julius next.


“Cut the f*ckin’ names. I’ve worked for plenty of dudes since I got to this city and your boss ain’t the first to put me to the test like that. Difference is, most’a them other cats knew what they was doing. I don’t think you thought this through. Who’s the guy in the trunk?”

“I was thinking one of your strong points was not askin’ questions.”

“I killed the cat, didn’t I?”

“You did, and you better get used to it if you’re gonna work for David Arnold.”

“I’m freelance.”

“Not anymore.”


Make a choice before you hit the gas. Your options are presented to you on the minimap: you’re free to use any means possible to get rid of the body. Perhaps you want to get to the nearby waterfront and dump the car oldschool style. Shoot the gas tank, sure, just make sure Dirk gets the f*ck out of dodge first. Two scripted options are offered too; drive to the junkyard a few blocks east and use the car crusher. It will cue a cutscene where Julius and Dirk watch as the metal compresses and the latter cracks a joke about how the car’s steel might be turned into a knife in the circle of life. A final choice: venture out to Quest Sound avoiding any patrol cars to Julius’ former employer: the Cavallo-Carne Slaughterhouse. There you’ll meet his old pal Mr. Night Shift—Sammy—who filches the corpse with glee. Perhaps it’s your best choice anyway; it leaves Dirk a touch appalled.


When the dead guy’s dust you’ll be prompted to accompany Dirk back to the chop-shop, an easier feat if you haven’t destroyed the car—traffic is scarce on the waterfront late at night.


“I dunno,” he’ll say to Julius. “I still ain’t convinced about you.”

“Good thing you ain’t the boss, then.”

Quieter, bemused: “Not yet.”

Julius scoffs. “Don’t involve me in your sh*t, man. I’ll kill cats and run swag for your little club, but I won’t think twice about bailing if y’all start off with some intermediary bull.”

“Good to know.”


Pull up next to Julius’ Gaia and let Dirk bail himself.


Before he walks into the orange light, he leans in through the open passenger window. “I suggest you ditch this cage.”

Julius ignores him. “So now what?”

Dirk runs his fingers through his bloody hair then picks his teeth. “So now you go home and sleep tight, maybe come back tomorrow.”


“Your risk to take.” He winks and walks off around the chop-shop corner.


A fade to black if you’re in a jacked ride. If you went the slaughterhouse route it’s not done yet: Julius rifles through the car’s glove compartment and under the seats for any loot before ditching it - finds a single coin. A final look inside the sun visor; as he flips it a small Polaroid falls onto his lap. He rotates it face-up: a smiling man holding hands with his wife and a young girl on his shoulders. A look of recognition: no cloth over his face, no blood. Julius throws it out the window and exits the car.



+ $1

Edited by Cebra
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  • 3 weeks later...

What an excellent follow up to continue the introductory missions. Again, you've done a great job of describing the location to us and it fascinates me how you're depicting San Fierro of the sixties compared to how we normally hear about it. This couldn't be darker, down on the waterfront, among the factories and chop shops. It works well.


Even though I read the first mission back in February, I like how memorable Julius remains as a character, albeit this being what, our second encounter with him? He's constantly on the ball, aware of his surroundings and who he's dealing with. He takes no sh*t and that's what I'm liking about him so much so far. The dialogue you've written for him and the exchanges between him and Dave are epic. This is what I'm talking about:


"I like your style," Arnold says between puffs. "You know when to get down to brass tacks. Now don't take this wrong, but you don't talk like I expected. Where you from?


"I picked up the lingo cross-country 'cause it seems to help old white folk get past their own preconceptions." Deadpan snark: "And my brother went to college."


Arnold chuckles, ignores the redirect. "Articulate and adaptive, you're shapin' up to be a real safe bet on my part.”

He throws the butt onto the floor and it lands next to the first. "I guess I should pay you now, huh?"


"I'd say so."

Reminds me almost of a Johnny Klebitz or Vercetti type, but sparring with worthy partners. Your secondary characters are equally as well described and written, right down to the mannerisms of the background players. Dirk is a firm favorite already and I hope he features a lot more.


So yeah, I dig the direction the story is going in this far into the game. You're covering all the gameplay bases (driving, shooting) whilst introducing key characters and alluding to future plot points -- Mainline Magnum, whoever he was, and Dirk mumbling something about not being the leader yet. I also very much liked your demonstration of different paths to complete the task at hand -- sinking the car into the waterfront (at the expense of pretty much being stranded) or take care of it at the slaughterhouse, which rewards us with a look into Julius' past.


Great work and I eagerly await the next installment. :^:


Also, fantastic job with the sounds and the vehicles. I'm actually a bit jealous of all the beautiful motors you're getting to work with. This is gorgeous, imagine driving that down the Venturas strip.

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  • 4 weeks later...

I have to bump this. I've been reading about Sonny Liston lately and I was wondering if you had thought of including a character like him at all?


His death was extremely dubious, supposedly involving the Mafia, but he was the undisputed heavyweight champ until he ran into Ali, and it occurred to me how that might fit in with the happy-go lucky feeling of the 60s story that fades into the harsh realities of the 70s.

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I have to bump this. I've been reading about Sonny Liston lately and I was wondering if you had thought of including a character like him at all?


His death was extremely dubious, supposedly involving the Mafia, but he was the undisputed heavyweight champ until he ran into Ali, and it occurred to me how that might fit in with the happy-go lucky feeling of the 60s story that fades into the harsh realities of the 70s.

Appreciate the link to Liston's death, I never knew the circumstances were so suspicious.


Boxing is going to be a big part of the the Gambetti casino's (attempt at) forging a gaming empire out of La Penisola. So as it starts out you'll host matches between local fighters, but fix the games properly and ensure that people make good money on your fights and you'll get progressively more famous fighters and so more spectators.


Part of this is going to be weaved into the storyline. I was planning on an Ali-based character working with the casino, but combining Mohammed Ali and Sonny Liston would make for a much more interesting one. Maybe he's had lots of success in the 60s but come 1970 he's losing matches and needs to make bank even if it's through fixed fights.


After reading about Liston's death I think such a situation could make for an interesting little plot point. Maybe I'm a getting a little ahead of myself, but I was thinking maybe the fighter could be in the middle of the Ancelotti v. Gambetti conflict, resulting in a little murder conspiracy by an Ancelotti hitman (judging by the LCPD database, I'm thinking Chubby Charlie of IV used to act as a hitman). Not to spoil things, of course :p


What do you think?

Edited by PhilosophicalZebra
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That sounds perfect, right down to the Chubby Charlie connection. A quick GTA Wiki of him pretty much confirms he was into all sorts of loan sharking too, which would be an awesome reference to Liston if you run with it. Boxing of this era always fascinates me, so I'm massively stoked that it's going to feature as part of the Gambettis storyline.


Depending how you weave it in, you could probably have a character for both Ali and Liston, given how crazy the build up to their fights could be. Liston even pulled a gun on Ali at one stage (imagine, for added effect, a mission where this descends into a full on shootout). Either way, you've got me fully hyped!


I see there was an update to the main post recently, what's new? :turn:

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The Notorious MOB

I expected good things from this and I am in no way disappointed and I really mean that, this is one of the best concept stories I've read in a long long time. Your writing sets every scene perfectly and I find myself instantly warming to every character, even though in some cases I'm probably not supposed to. I had always been skeptical of a GTA set in the 60s but this has really changed my mind. I'm looking forward to seeing more of it soon, don't let me down son :)

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That sounds perfect, right down to the Chubby Charlie connection. A quick GTA Wiki of him pretty much confirms he was into all sorts of loan sharking too, which would be an awesome reference to Liston if you run with it. Boxing of this era always fascinates me, so I'm massively stoked that it's going to feature as part of the Gambettis storyline.


Depending how you weave it in, you could probably have a character for both Ali and Liston, given how crazy the build up to their fights could be. Liston even pulled a gun on Ali at one stage (imagine, for added effect, a mission where this descends into a full on shootout). Either way, you've got me fully hyped!


I see there was an update to the main post recently, what's new? :turn:

I really have to learn to do my research like you. Drawing parallels to real life like that offers both some realism and spice to the story. I never knew he pulled a gun on Ali before. Thanks for the info again. :)


And I updated the main post to reformat the Features sectionI think it's more clear now. I also changed the font because it's a bit bigger, but I'm not sure if it's hard on some peoples' eyes. If anyone could let me know if there's any issues with it, it would be appreciated.


I expected good things from this and I am in no way disappointed and I really mean that, this is one of the best concept stories I've read in a long long time. Your writing sets every scene perfectly and I find myself instantly warming to every character, even though in some cases I'm probably not supposed to. I had always been skeptical of a GTA set in the 60s but this has really changed my mind. I'm looking forward to seeing more of it soon, don't let me down son :)

Glad I changed your mind! I won't let you down with the story, I'm really enjoying writing this :)


I have a few more things to add to the OP in mind, plus I'm almost done writing main mission #3. Shouldn't be long.

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Ah, okay. I can read the features section just fine and I'm as good as blind in one eye, how's that for positive feedback? :cool:


Glad to hear you're nearly finished writing Mission #3. We'll be anticipating it eagerly!

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  • 1 month later...

So I thought I'd bump this to ask if anyone has any suggestions for the music or vehicles. Working on the soundtrack I realized that Rockstar really has used some great music in the past, and even though there's no lack of great songs to use for this concept, I really don't know much about them. Some of you guys have great suggestions for it.


I've seen people's ideas around the forum while talking about things like Mafia III, and it's fired up some more enthusiasm for me to put work into this. So since the last update I've added quite a bit of music and cars, and within the next few days I'll be posting mission #3. I've been wondering how to approach the three character dynamic - I'll probably be rotating each mission around unless one mission would follow immediately after the previous. How would you guys prefer to approach this?

Edited by PhilosophicalZebra
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After the end of the previous mission you'll be prompted to switch to Dante—do so at your leisure. The camera will once again speed across the map as the water on the bay turns to desert. We're treated to a timelapse of Las Venturas from the perspective of a flat-roofed bungalow a few miles out as nighttime neon vibrancy turns to a full blown heat-hazed day.


A red Albany Ace pulls into the driveway and parks behind a shiny Barbican Piranha. A familiar face steps out, a brown bag in his hand even more wrinkled than he. Jacky hooks around the car and makes his way into the home’s sandy backyard, past a picnic table covered in sawed-off shotguns to a small shack poised against the fence. A look in a tiny window, then a knock on the steel door. It opens immediately to Dante in his skivvies yawning.



Dio mio. It's eight o’clock, you bum.”

“I know, that's why I'm still sleeping.”


Jacky pushes in; first person from his view—mattress on the floor, a few shelves filled with useless sh*t and a small table with newspapers piled in a five by five space. Smoke rises from beside the bed, Jacky sniffs.


“It don't smell like sleep to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, la canapa. Let's get it over with.”

“I don't got time.”


Jacky pushes the bag into Dante’s chest. He grabs it and peeks in, Jacky slaps his hand away.


“Remember my friend Fabrizio out in the valley?”

Dante leans on the door frame. “No.”

A rare chuckle: “Eh, the bookie who screwed Angio Scavarelli’s broad. Me and Jon had to put him in hiding for half the goddamn year.”

“Yeah, don't ring any bells. I remember Mrs. Scavarelli, though.”

“Uh huh.” — Jacky begins to direct Dante to Fabrizio’s place through physical landmarks rather than street names as Dante yawns and scratches away.

“...just put the bag in the vase on his porch. You heard? I'm givin' you this on Jon's behalf so if you f*ck it up it's between you and him.”

Serious now: “I won't.”

“If you got nothing better to do, which I know you don't, go see him when you're done. He asked for you.”


Mutual nods; Dante closes the door. He checks his little spinello in an ashtray by the mattress and finds water dripping onto it from a crack in the roof, followed by a trail of Sicilian cursing. Only part of the language he knows.


Objective: Get dressed and drive toward New Martis.


Approach a little pile of clothes on one of the shelves and pick a default outfit: rolled up blazers, wifebeaters under unbuttoned dress shirts and chinos. A quick tutorial on that pile of papers: it's your only alternative to radio, fresh off the presses every morning are details on the latest, from your criminal exploits to just typical everyworld bullsh*t 50¢ apiece. When you're pleased with yourself leave the brick hut and make your way to Dante’s Piranha. If you want, take the opportunity to explore Jacky’s home—a typical Venturas bungalow, flat-roofed, every wall’s a window. Mid-century as it gets until you see inside; stickler Jacky enjoys WWII-era furniture. The living room’s fifty shades of beige hosts a card game every night in which you can partake.


Done — get to the car and pull out of the cul-de-sac of identical homes. Even with the valley relatively near, midday traffic leaves the commute ever quicker. Floor the muscle car and hear the engine roar as The Strip's buildings fade further away in the haze, distant billboards galore — Redwood by means of cartoon characters, eCola through color recognition, Juank Air, and the visual promises hyping up a dozen new casinos in the coming months. No waypoint, but follow the natural route and you'll find yourself back on the West Side—rundown tenements and eerie desertion, the foot traffic having recently transitioned from well-to-dos making their trek to the country club to the odd gang playing craps by the gutter. The camera will focus on Sugar Ray’s Mini-Mart as you pass, a keen eye will notice the rusty old Barbican Veranda from the previous mission curbside. Keep driving as the amount of domiciles dwindles and sand dunes swells, foot traffic goes from little to nil, billboards on the weekly replaced by a single sun-stained ad for Commander appliances. Buttless scorching day—A Day In The Life playing on the radio as you travel down the highway. Around you, a little metal guardrail and miles upon miles of flat desert and tumbleweeds. Urban expansion my ass, Dante mumbles to himself. Promises straight from Cazzini et al — Venturas is the future, right?


Fabrizio’s bungalow is one of three built so far—the skeletons of a few dozen more scattered along dirt roads nearby; the beginnings of a little township halfway to New Martis. Over a nearby foothill you would usually see the concentrated skyscrapers of San Fierro but the haze limits the sight. Park on Fabrizio’s dirt lawn, find the vase, cue cutscene: Dante peeks in the bag again and you get to make a quick decision: press the indicated button to snag a Grade-A suppressor. No immediate consequences, though; as he begins to walk back to the car a man pops out the front door holding a lupara by the barrel. Dante feels for his pistol and comes up empty again—holster’s in the backseat, you'll get it when you return.


Pure Alderney: “Who the f*ck comes all the way out here and don't say hi?”


No gun pointing; no hands in the air.


“I'm Gravelli’s guy. Heard you needed a few silencers.”


Fabrizio grabs the vase and flips it into his hand. He opens the bag, pulls a few out then back in.


Suppressors, you f*ckin’ amateur. When someone comes up with a real silencer we’ll all be up sh*t’s creek.” Fabrizio scratches what seems to be a perpetual itch with his lupara.

Dante: “It's like tumbleweed f*ckin’ hollow out here—what's your deal?”

“You know my deal.”

“Can't say I do.”

“You work for Gravelli, paisan—we all got the same deal.”

"Guess so. What you doin' all the way out here, then?"

He sighs. "Look buddy, I don't know you and ain't nobody vouched. Heard this place's up and coming, runs me a quarter of what I'd be forkin' out in Venturas and I hears they're building a freeway gonna connect from down there all the way up to New Martis. Access, I guess." He opens his arms to the building, still lacking siding. "Brand-spanking-new. All the bells and whistles, hear they're gonna have a diner, theater, f*ckin' bowling alley down before the year's out. The Joneses and their '68 Declasses can go f*ck themselves."

"Yeah, alright, place just gives me the creeps. Anyway, ain't you a bookie? What you need all the hardware for?"


Fabrizio smirks, twirls his shotgun like a balancing act and slams the door, Dante's questions hanging tabled.


One main objective: Go back home, passing through the West Side en route.


Do so. Take the scenic drive again—what, how often do you get to put the pedal to the metal in a muscle car through a desolate desert? Try first person; admire the old-school dials and blood leather interior if that's your thing. The sand will soon morph to a few warehouses, move residential with one-stories and ultimately your target tenements. You know you're home when the billboard start piling. Passing the mini mart will this time trigger a short scene: Dante will attach his holster, park around the corner and get out. The information box in the upper left will display your objective straight up—Go to the payphone across the street—along with a tidbit of info: the directive is purely a suggestion; you're free to use your initiative without punishment. If you wanna do things the old way, feel free.


First option—those guys fixing to jack Sonny’s Glendale in the intro are already hanging out on their stoop. If you’re up to it, take a hands-on approach and beat the living sh*t out of them. Honestly, the odds ain’t in your favor—three versus one, the three already well-versed in street fighting. Different gangs, different fighting styles—this isn’t one you want to go up against your first time. If you’re brave enough to down them, however, you’ll be introduced to the game’s fighting mechanics step-by-step until you kick their asses. “Not so tough now”, Dante will mutter to the moaning gangsters once they’re rolling around on the ground. “Stick to pinchin’ bicycles from now on.”


Two—Dante’s got a gun. Though a barely-attempted carjacking may not merit a bullet (or ten), it’s ultimately up to you. Draw the pistol and Dante will say “Never f*ck with the Gambettis” plain and simple—shoot and book it before the street starts getting crowded.


Three—follow the suggestion. Walk over to the payphone and Dante will automatically place the call, 50¢.


“Yo, it’s Dante. I got a little show needs playing out over on the West Side. You in?”

Laughs: “Of course. Be there in five.


Five it is—fade to black, fade back in to a Vapid Banner double parking Dante’s ride. A pudgy guy inside calls him over.


“What’s the deal?”

Dante spits, points to the gangsters on the stoop. “These pricks were sizing up Cangelosi’s car yesterday when I was on a run. Jon scared 'em off, but I say we take it a bit further and teach ‘em not to do that again.”

“Oh yeah, you were on a run with Sonny and Jon. Who else was there, Vic Noto?”

“Ha, I don’t gotta prove sh*t to you, E. But don't say I didn't tell you I was movin’ on up.”

“Whatever, you delusive prick. Got a plan?”

Ooh, ‘delusive prick’. That’s a good one. And sure—go piss the shines off with your charm while I pull their brakes.”


Ettore gets out—at full height he stands half a foot taller than Dante—and hobbles over to the stoop as Dante kneels by his car. Before long an argument starts; your cue to act. Crouch over to the rusty Veranda around the corner and get over to the front: press the indicated button to cut the car’s brake lines. You're free to do this as you wish in normal gameplay—a good preventative measure to take when you don't feel like a high-speed pursuit.


Back to the Piranha—shove it into first gear and cruise up to the mini-mart curb. One of the gangsters will notice you immediately.


“Ah, makes sense. You dagos hang in packs ‘round here, huh?”

“Glad you remember me. You really seemed to dig what I was drivin’ yesterday, you feelin’ as hot on this one?”

The trio size it up. The short guy: “Nothin’ special, motherf*cker.”

“I bet this ‘nothing special’ would kick up some good dough for parts, though. I'll be honest; I'm joyriding and lookin’ for a race—if you beat me in that rusty piece of sh*t this girl’s all yours.”


They laugh like they just heard the world's greatest joke. “Got nothin’ better to do. S’worth a shot, it is.”


The three run over to their car around the corner—Ettore gets in with Dante.


“Something tells me this ain’t gonna be fair game.”


Go to the makeshift start a bit down the road; not like there’s any traffic to interfere. It’s a long, straight path with a sudden 90° into a building further down—good for quick acceleration, bad for someone without brakes. Wait for the Veranda to position alongside you—3,2,1, hit it. Power down the road and prepare to drift the corner alongside your adversaries—watch as they lose momentum and slam into a brick wall at mid-speed. Shift gears again, hit it far this time. Leave the West Side in your dust as Dante and Ettore laugh away.


A final trek: Return home.


“Sh*t, the car.”

Ettore continues laughing. “I pulled that hunk a’ junk from Ricky’s yard. Gimme some credit, big shot.”

“Ain’t no big shot yet. Stepping stones, Eddy—a favor here and an unpaid gig there’ll and before you know it they’re dependin’ on you.”

“Uh huh. And that back there—that your idea of, uh, sanctioned payback?”

“Not exactly. But the hoi polloi gotta know to respect the family, capiche? I got a feeling it’ll pay off.”

“So when you gonna introduce me?”

“What, to Sonny? That old prick won’t remember you from any other Strip drone stunad unless you make a splash. That’s on you.”

“Yeah don't I know. Come by my pa’s in a few shakes and I’ll bring the waves.”


Dante chuckles, a bit confused, a bit impressed. Park up the driveway into the indicated spot—don’t take Uncle Jacky’s vacant one unless you’re yearning for a verbal lashing later on. Not his house, but Ettore’ll walk in first—Dante steps out of the car and, for the first time, you’re free. You’ll receive the traditional breakdown of what you can do while in free roam, ending with a prompt to begin the first mission of Doug’s if you so please.


No reward.


Edited by Cebra
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The Notorious MOB

Just got caught up with this man. I really like the first two character introduction missions they're simple and straight forward but give a good sense of where the protagonists have been and more importantly where they're headed. I'm looking forward to seeing more of the same in the next offering. Also writing is as top notch as ever man kudos.

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Another quality mission! As MOB said, simple and straight forward but brought to life with your vivid descriptions and attention to features such as location and vehicles. If Ettore Boccino is indeed related to Ray, little lines like this one are exactly what I'm talking about:



Ettore gets out—at full height he stands half a foot taller than Dante—and hobbles over to the stoop as Dante kneels by his car.

It might not be something you pick up on right away, but when you consider how much of a lanky fella Ray Boccino was and how he had a real awkward walk about him, it's some smart ass writing.


I'd definitely love to see you rotate the missions between characters. I've no qualms with Dante or Julius at all, but I would love to see more of Doug.


Music and vehicles? I think you're doing a terrific job. I've no suggestion to add other than keep doing what you're doing... as often as you can. :p I'd certainly love to hear this song when bouncing between casinos in the 60s portion of the game, though!



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Just got caught up with this man. I really like the first two character introduction missions they're simple and straight forward but give a good sense of where the protagonists have been and more importantly where they're headed. I'm looking forward to seeing more of the same in the next offering. Also writing is as top notch as ever man kudos.


Another quality mission! As MOB said, simple and straight forward but brought to life with your vivid descriptions and attention to features such as location and vehicles. If Ettore Boccino is indeed related to Ray, little lines like this one are exactly what I'm talking about:



Ettore gets out—at full height he stands half a foot taller than Dante—and hobbles over to the stoop as Dante kneels by his car.

It might not be something you pick up on right away, but when you consider how much of a lanky fella Ray Boccino was and how he had a real awkward walk about him, it's some smart ass writing.


I'd definitely love to see you rotate the missions between characters. I've no qualms with Dante or Julius at all, but I would love to see more of Doug.


Music and vehicles? I think you're doing a terrific job. I've no suggestion to add other than keep doing what you're doing... as often as you can. :p I'd certainly love to hear this song when bouncing between casinos in the 60s portion of the game, though!




Much appreciated, both of you.


I wanted to make the first couple of missions for each protagonist like GTA IV's where it's more about ratifying characters and the setting. It was fun to jump right into things in V, but I prefer IV's way of going about the intro missions. Julius, Dante, and (as you'll see next) Doug are all pretty much midway in their careers. Julius is an established courier, Dante is in the midst of proving himself to the Gambettis, and Doug is pretty much lost. When they push toward the high points to come, that's when the set-piece missions will begin.


Nice to see you picked up on Ettore's characteristics, Tyla. I thought maybe it was a bit far-fetched to bring a Boccino to the west coast, but what the hell. There's nothing to suggest the family wasn't rooted back in LC by 1976, right? :p


And I'll be adding Spooky to the soundtrack. Thanks :^:

Edited by PhilosophicalZebra
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