What's YOUR charcter story?

[Ajeesh]

So on the groups section of the forums ive noticed a lot o great character story's and i want you guys to share yours too. Here's mine

Name: Mario Antonio Corleone
Age: 27
Residence: Mullholland Los santos. (mansion)
Occupation/Affiliation:Corleone Member
Story:Mario was born in 1982 in Liberty City. During that time, different mafiosi were battling for control of the streets. Sadly Mario lived around those streets. Mario's Father owned the Marco's Bistro in Liberty City. This was the main source of income for the family. Mario loved to play with his friend Jimmy. They were really good friends, kind of like brothers. Mario was exposed to drugs at a young age as gangs were everywhere. Mario only started drugs at 16. When he was 12...his father was killed in a shootout between the Gambetti Family and the Forelli Family. Mario was enraged by this and swore revenge. Him and his mother moved into Shorside Vale. He studied and got a degree in business. When he was 21..he decided it was time for revenge. Him and Jimmy went to confront the Gambetti's. After a long shootout, Jimmy was killed. Then a little later Mario managed to wipe them out.
All the mafias were after him now thinking he was a big threat. At the age of 27 he moved to Los Santos

 When Mario arrived, things weren't so great..He was robbed by a bunch of hispanic gangsters. He eventually began to grow weed and sell it for profit. After making enough money he bought a house in Jefferson. Eventually he came in good relation's with the Corleone's so he ended up joining them. A person there helped him buy his mansion in Mullholland. Mario loved it in Corleone and they became his family..

Well... I know it wasn't to great. You guys can probably make better a better one...

[Julian]

Name: Louis Freeze.
Age: 24.
Residence: Idlewood Housing Projects, Los Santos
Occupation/Affiliation: Leader of the Bloods set Neighborhood Family, also a drug dealer.
Story: Louis was born in 1986 in Los Santos, SA, by a half cuban, half mexican mother and African-American father.
The family was poor and lived in Idlewoods ghetto while Louis was born, but the family moved to East Los Santos for a while, but Louis sister and mother left the house, so Louis and his father kept on moving, but ended up staying in Idlewood. Some years later, in the 7th Grade, Louis and his friend OShea Jackson got kicked out of school for fighting in the lunch room. He decided to skip school and start hanging out in the streets, and one day he met some members of a local Bloods set called the Idlewood Street Pirus, that he and OShea started to hang out with, and after a while, joined. He got his first gun at age of 14, a Glock 19. Louis started selling drugs, and after a while in the gang, Louis and OShea was experienced gangbangers and drug dealers.

One night in 2004, when Louis was 19 years old, a local Crip set called the Ganton Crips, ambushed the Idlewood Street Pirus hood and killed almost all of them. The leader of the Bloods set was shot dead, Louis got his lung punctured by a .22 caliber pistol, but OShea managed to escape from the Crips. Louis was treated in prison hospital, and had to be in jail for one year.

While Louis was in prison, OShea thought about the stuff that was going on, he decided to start a new Bloods set, if Louis approved. He went to prison to see Louis and talked about his thoughts. Louis thought it was a good idea, he wanted to get back at the Crips, and so did OShea.
OShea decided to give the new set a simple name, the Neighborhood Family Bloods, his family of Bloods-affiliated friends in the Neighboorhood.

At the time Louis was in prison, he got contact with a lot of people, so he started recruiting, and he succeeded pretty well.
A year later, by the time Louis got out of prison, the set had become one of Idlewood's biggest Blood sets, so he was happy about what he saw in the streets after the time in jail. He went back to his apartment in the Idlewood Housing Projects.

When he walked around the block a while later, he met OShea, chilling at his house with a few homies.
Louis said: 'Aye, man, good to see you!'
OShea answered: 'You too, good to see you out homie.'
OShea introduced Louis to the set, as a leader, and now here today he's all recovered, still kickin' it in the hood with the homies, smoking blunts and ready to bust any fool that f**ks with him.

[Ajeesh]

niice. BTW you dont have to use the template i used. you can use your on if preferred

[Julian]

It was good, so I used it.
btw, I wonder how many times I named ''Louis'', or ''OShea'' in my story.
LoL. :P

[Ajeesh]

not alot. i used a lot of Mario in it so it's all good

[James_Alterlis]

Post in here:
http://www.argonathrpg.eu/forum/index.php?topic=29801.msg368543  :rules:

[SeanC]

Name:
Sean " JJ " Caltson

Age:
21

Residence:
Ganton, Los Santos

Occupation:
Orange Grove Families Leader,Drug Dealing,Doing Crimes and Robbing Bank/People

Story
Under Construction

[EliteTerm]

Honestly, I think we should stick with one topic.

The most recent Character RP story Thread is by Carharrt: http://www.argonathrpg.eu/forum/index.php?topic=23714.0

My story's in there.

[James_Alterlis]

And I suggest to add Crime Record like my topic  :razz:

[Bianconeri]

Name: Alessandro Bianconeri
Age: 28
Origin (Country): Italy (IRL=dutch)
Job: ARPD Sergeant, and head trainer of Academy
Financial Status: medium rich, over a million
Property (What You Own):
-Uranus, 2003 version of $45.000
-House with pool, Richman LS, Richman street 26 of $200.000
-Victim clothes shop, located at little mexico, alabama road 12 of $350.000(no /loan used)
About Your Character:

Child of 2 Italian parents, born in 1981 in Torino,
raised by poor parents, struggling to keep there heads above water,
assosiated with the Italian mafia due the need of money.
As Soldier of the Camorra busy on the streets, ending up in the jail
for multiple murders and drugsdealing.
In prison helped for his gun wounds, been hit by bullets in mafia wars between Cammora and Corleone
therefore raised with violence and guns, which would come to an use when in San Andreas
Life in prison has changed his mind, thinking about what was right and what was wrong,
decided to take new chances and improve his life
so he moved to San Andreas around the year 2000, for the American dream which everyone had
found a poor, dirty caravan just outside LS at Flint Intersect,
living a poor and horrible life, without any hope on a good thing, the American dream got destroyed.
First years working as a cleaner all around Los Santos, following education secretly without paying classes
at schools all around the city, ending in jail multiple times because of that.
One of the classes was laws, which interested him, therefore following a lot of those classes and
started to work for the police, and during the years moved up higher, with more payment and therefore
moved to a new bigger house in the town of Palomino Creek,
and in the years after that moved even higher in the police rankings, as Sergeant now
and now living in a rich neighbourhood, with all i want,
the American dream has worked out good for this Italian man

 :ps: im dutch for real, but fan of Juventus(football in italy)
thats where my name comes from:
alessandro del piero the footballer of Juventus, thats my front RP name(1 of the best strikers)
and Bianconeri is italian for black and white, which are the shirt colours of Juventus,
and Bianconeri is the nickname of Juventus, thats my second name


and btw there are a lot of topics like this though

[Voodoo]

The loud crowd cheering echoed through the small dusty TV into the dimly lit room in Echo Park, Los Angeles, in 1988. "Nothin' like a good ol' Lakers championship, aint it?" asked Samuel Graves, his small son, 2 year old Damien, who was sitting next to him, watching, what it looked like, the TV, and not the program. "I knew it was." Samuel said. "You still watching that crap on TV, Sam?" asked his wife, Damien's mom, Evonne. "Oh, c'mon honey, a man gotta' entertain himself.". A not supportive shake came from Evonne, while Damien was watching the small box. The Lakers were leading with 100 points. Samuel took a sip from his beer.

Evonne was Damien's love and lessons, while Samuel, taught him about life, and sports. Samuel always took Damien to the home Lakers' game. Damien's passion and love for Basketball grew larger everyday, everyday he spent playing with his dad, his friends, his family.

Samuel was working as a small time Taxi driver, driving people from their houses to the Airport, vica versa, or just people that came from different places to their family. He had a lousy salary, and Damien's mother, Evonne, was fired lately from her job in the bar she was working. Their house cost alot to maintain, so they had to move to a worse house, in Compton. It was awfull. When Samuel was at work, Evonne at home, Damien spent his time playing Basketball, but he had to help his parents, so he started selling Drugs. He had too. He had two small plants in his room, and he took care of them like they were his sons. And the results were good; he had constant customers, buying more and more, for his shit was good.
One winter night, when it was ice cold outside, Damien was like always, walking with his Glock 17 tucked in his waistband, trying to push his dope to Afro-American bypassers. He had a lighter, cool looking one, that with a small click on a button, turned on the flames, that got through small pipes that you can direct where they went. So he shoved it in his handband, that when all of his friends where looking at his directions, summoned the flame, which made them go "Wow!" and "What the fucc?!". "Nigguh', is that…magik'?" said Malik Richardson. "Chea', we shud' call ya' magic..haha." said Karim Crypts. "So call me that way foo's." said Damien. "Why not? Soundin' preety' gangsta' actually." Said Malik. "Chea'…so where's that f**ka'? Magic?" asked Jamal. "Oh thes' he comes." Said Magic. A hooded man, with dreadlocks covering most of his face, with ragged camo pants, was heading over the boy's direction. When he came, he started talking: "So cheh' got de' herb, mon'?" he asked, In a Jamaican accent. "So' nigguh', and yah' got the Franklin's?" Magic asked. "Sho', sho'." He said in a scared and chilled tone, showing a packet of money. "Aiigh'… I will jus' get ma' shii'…" said Magic. "No, yeh' gonnah' die, lil' foo', dealin' on mah' turf!" shouted the man, shoving his hand into his belt, and taking out his Mac-10. "Wow, take it easy…mon.." said Jamal, and Magic aimed unnoticeably his sleeve at the man. He pressed the button, and the flame hit the man in the hand, unleashing a bullet from the gun that hit Malik in the nose, and then another bullet, that missed Magic by 2 inches, and hit Karim. Magic aimed for his waistband, and when he got his gun, he got shot by the man in the shoulder, and Jamal falling on the floor, bleeding on all the snow, making it blood red.

Magic wook up at the hospital, feeling a powerfull pain in the shoulder, where he got hit. He knew that if he was here, and his parents were sitting in a chair near them, that the Jamaican thug stole his drugs and weapons. "Hello, son." Said Samuel and Evonne at the same time. The EMS said you got shot in the chest, by a 357 Nagmun.." -  "Magnum." Corrected Samuel. "It was lucky there was a man that saw how this happened, and called the paramedics." – "Ah' guess' so..bu' it hurts..fucc'…". Magic spent 3 months in the hospital, until he got fully recovered.

His parents couldn't even work anymore. They were 52 years old, both. No one wanted 2 "old" guys doing nothing. And Magic was 17 at that time, so he went to drug dealing, again. He kept taking care of his plants, and the results, as always, were good, but the trees seemed to get old. So he moved to Cocaine. Buying it from a guy he knew, he sold it for double. It, as he thought, was what and how all the rich people got their money, for his family could easily move living back in Echo Park. And so they did.

His new contact, that sold him both cocaine, and crack, was a Jamaican-American, called Jacob Hollows. He still bought coke from his old contact, and he sold both's shit, for the double the price, when all they wanted is 10 precent, which wasn’t a lot, considering Magic earned 5000 dollars per night, he only owed them overall 500 dollars. He got himself a car, the same his father had, a Chevrolet Impala.

One night, when Magic was pushing shit to people, 2 men crept into his house, to his parents' bedroom. They were proffesionals, cause they killed them like it was a suicide. A knife to the throat, hands wielding knifes in the perfect angle, it was like a suicide, and no finger prints. That was everyone thought, but not Magic. His parents were happy, they couldn't die or especially, suicide. His 2 bosses had rivals, and this rivals, were those who responsible for it. But he couldn't do shit. Nor did his bosses. He got the house. He got a last pay check from his previous contact, 5000 dollars, and 20,000 dollars from Hollows. He went to live in his house.
For 6 years, until the age of 23, he lived there, until he got a phone call, from his cousin, Jamal Celtic. He said he was in need of advice. He didn't specify what. And the next morning, Magic picked him up at the airport, with the help of a taxi, since he didn’t knew where the airport was. So they eventully got into Magic's house. They advanced to the lobby, sat, and started chatting. "So, brotha', whas' that what ya' was needin'?" - "Help. Man, I don' know wha' happened to 'em, they don' even know I wenn' somwhere'. Ony' LilMac, an' I don' know if he tol' 'em." - "I alwais' spoke that ya' shouldnv' get into a gang, and ya' worrid' 'bout what?" - "That they got killed, shot, or dead.". "Than why ye' left at the firs' place?" said Magic. "I dont know. Or I do. I thought moms was wii' ya'." - "Shes dead. We didnt called, we aint' knou' ya' numba'." - "Oh right. Well, what shoulv' do?" Jamal asked. "Stay here for a couple of days, relax, and go back there". So Jamal did it. The next day, Magic went to the grocery shop, where he met an old friend, Diwanna Ji, a Buddhist monk, who got him some nice, healthy weed. "Hello there, my young smoker.." said Ji. "Sup there, DJ?" – "It's alright, been better, but alright. Oh, look at the time," he stared at his watch, "Got to go. Goodbye!" he waved, and left the shop. And then he got shot. No one cared. It was a normal that people were randomly getting shot at LA.

When Magic got back to his home, he found his cousin, Jamal, dead, with a note on his dismembered hand, saying: "Yo' cant escape us, foo'! Grove Stree' fo' Life!". Magic thought it was the rival gang of ECPS, Grove Street Families, that done it. And he decided to take revenge. A few days packing, he went to LS. Arriving at the airport, he thought LS was very familiar to LA. So he went outside. He saw a group of people wearing blue. Mexicans. He thought they were gang members, so he asked them about GSF. And he found out they died out. And he didnt knew what to do now. Join a gang, go back to LA, or be a musician or a basketball player. He became a Musician.

[Lustigkurre]

story of lustigkurre:

a 60 years old jerk from the farm outside LS has finally moved away from his parents and now lives in marina. he likes to hang around gs9 doing nothing.