Realistic or Modern Injustice

[Vudukudu]

Role Play Rating:

• T- Teen (13 and up)
  

Role Play Status:


Open - Accepting


There's no law here.


No one is going to save you.


No where is safe.


It's truly an..

Jamestown:


Welcome to Jamestown. It's a sh**hole, yes, but it's our sh**hole. It's home to the rich, it's home to the poor, and it's home to the in-between. We consider ourselves a good, hard-working sort, most of us anyway. Those who don't? Well, they're the one true problem about Jamestown.


You see, we have an issue with organized crime. Since the first brick was laid, two hundred years ago, J-Town has been a breeding ground for vice and greed. As a matter of fact, it's practically a tradition here, where kids from the poorer end of the city go out and join a gang when they're 14.


We've got the highest murder rate in the United States. Highest rate in every other crime you could think of, too. We're home to four of the ten most dangerous gangs in the States. So, as you can very well see, life is rough here. Death is a constant, and it doesn't bother us that much anymore.


But I bet you're wondering where you and I come into play. See, folks like us? We love our city. We love our families, our friends, that hot Starbucks barista, and the greasy guy who runs the hot dog stand. Problem is, J-Town isn't safe for them. The gangs took J-Town from us.


And now we're taking it back.


1. No god-modding.


2. If romance gets involve, fade to black before it gets too heavy.


3. Be a good writer. That means correct spelling and decent grammar.


4. Refrain from killing off other characters.


5. Be creative and interesting with your posts. Avoid one-liners.


6. Please message me with any questions you have during character creation.


7. I reserve the right to kick people for breaking any rules.


8. I reserve the right to reject your character application for being poorly made, over-powered, or uninteresting.


9. Please adhere to the following when writing


- Actions (no change)


- Personal Thoughts


- "Dialogue"


10. Password is "Black Hole Sun", include it at the end of your sheet, no context needed.


11. If you cannot be bothered to check this RP at least once every two days, don't be bothered to apply.


12. New Villagers will not be accepted unless they manage to produce a stellar character sheet.

 

[Vudukudu]

Vudukudu updated Injustice with a new update entry:


Hey-O.

So I figure we can just start and pick up more as we go.
Makin first post now.

Read the rest of this update entry... 
Beep. Beep. Beep.


"Motherf*****." Marcus groaned, swinging his arm towards the nightstand by his bed. His hand searched lazily for the alarm clock before finding the silence button on it. Despite being fully awake almost fifteen minutes later, he wasn't ready to get out of bed. The night before had been.. hectic, to say the least. He had run far more than he usually had to, and he could feel his legs still burning with soreness.


Finally, he got to his feet. He had to get to work today, and his boss had threatened to fire him if he was late again. He ran through the shower, got dressed, and went out to his car. He grinned when he got to it, lightly patting the hood before getting in. "How's my baby doing?" Marcus whispered. He had always had an odd habit of talking to his car, a 2004 BMW. Girls came and went all the time, but the car didn't leave or break down on him.

 

[Mad Rabbit]

"What the Hell, Dameon!"


Dameon glanced up from his crossword puzzle briefly, his dark chocolate eyes lazily scanned the older man's face. "What do you want, mate?"


"You've been here three hours and you haven't done anything useful yet!"


"Sure boss," He closed his puzzle, stuffing it in his back pocket, and stumbled off to the warehouse. Today was one of the more peaceful days. The warehouse meant just stocking parts and taking orders. It was a good way to come down from yesterday's madness. A grim smile slipped onto his face as he remembered last night. Then came a grimace as he remembered that he currently had a hangover. Those thugs had some great booze.


"Dameon!"


He sighed as he began numbering the boxes, "Yeah, I got it."

 

[BloodThunder27]

It was just another normal day for Serafina Tang, a former Auto Mechanic turned Illegal Street Racer. In addition, she worked under the table as a Courier and Driver for Hire. Unknown to her family, Serafina had become a self-righteous vigilante, playing cat and mouse on almost every single criminal she could find. In addition to being a Driver-for-hire and a Courier, Serafina was also a hit-woman. As of late, she had been mourning the passing of her late boyfriend Aaron Drake, who was killed in a Gangland Style Execution, but died in her arms. There weren't very many things in life for her to look forward to. However, her widowed sister, Angela, had a baby on the way. Within the next two weeks, she would fly down to Hawaii to care for her sister and be there for her when she gives birth. Currently, she was tuning the engine on her 2010 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution. Aside from the Evo, Serafina had six other cars; a 1991 Toyota MR2, 2003 Mitsubishi Lancer OZ Rally, 2009 Subaru Impreza WRX, 2009 Dodge Challenger, 2009 Dodge Charger SRT8 and a 2013 Scion FRS. Serafina did have a lot of money to throw around, as she engaged in activities from Street Racing bets to Contract Kills. Over the past three months, Serafina has at least taken a good twenty-five criminals. Although she did not get paid for all of them, she still made money off of being a courier and driver. While cleaning her Rifle, she thought about her late brother-in-law and what Angela was going through.

 

[Vudukudu]

It was hours before Marcus' shift ended, hours which he reluctantly endured. Finally, the clock ticked to 5:00 and he set his tools down. "F****** hate this place.." He muttered, glancing around him.


His manager, on the catwalk directly above him, clearly heard. "Heard that, Marcus."


"And I f***** hate you too, boss." Marcus replied, forcing a chuckle afterwards to make it seem more innocent.


"Yeah, yeah, go home a**hat."


Marcus sighed and went into the locker room to clean off. He was practically covered in engine oil and smelled like car exhaust. The job was hell, but he desperately needed the money, and hopefully a promotion sometime before he died of the fumes. This place was certainly breaking a few air quality regulations, and he'd been coughing up black spittle for a few days. He figured it would go away soon enough if he kept getting fresh air afterwards.


So that's exactly what he did. As soon as he had cleaned off and changed into jeans and a t-shirt, he went back out to his car and rolled the windows down. It was the start of a hour long drive around the Memorial Park area, a place where the urban smog hadn't yet reached. He figured he should check in on his sister later, but he'd have to cross the city for that. Not to mention the awkwardness that it would undoubtedly consist of.

 

[Gilded Fire]

Lorraine hummed under her breath as she loaded up a barrel of god knows what into a truck for some hotshot mafia boy. And he really wasn't much more than a boy, 18/19 and with more mouth than common sense.


"Hurry the f*** up you lot I have a business deal to sign!"


She sighed mid-tune, and pushed aside a man a good foot taller that her who seemed to have gotten height but not that much upstairs. He grunted and pointed his gun, cocked to the side at her head. Lorraine just rolled her eyes and picked up the next and penultimate barrel, resuming her humming. The man grunted again approvingly, before pocketing the gun and picking up the final deal maker of a barrel that must have contained goddamn fairy dust the way the boss guy was yelling. Shame he isn't cute she thought wistfully, closing up the van and signalling it was ready to go.


After getting her pay for the evening Lorraine relaxed, rubbing her hand through her hair and turning to Jeremy Kyle on the tv. The good old british one, reminded her of all the b******* back home, who she was fond of to varying degrees. She snorted when more news of the vigilantes cropping up all over the city came up. I guess I'd be up for it if they ever extended an invitation to the exclusive lycra club, hell I could just put on a mask and leave a little bit of signature evidence on my weekly checkups. The thoughts had her attention for a whole minute before her attention went back to the screen in front of her.