Hotline Miami: Conference Call [OOC|Sign-Ups|Open]

by **Transoxthraxia** » Wed Jul 29, 2015 3:47 pm

April 21st, 1989. 23:48.
124 80th SW Street, Miami

124 80th SW Street was a hole-in-the-ground, brick-built three-storey apartment building that had been home to countless hundreds of scumbags in its time, but none worse were than the Russian Mob. They had come in about six months back, buying out every room in the place, paying half of the normal rent, and using most of the rooms for their numerous criminal activities, from drug and gun smuggling to human trafficking and prostitution.

Most nights, usually only corrupt cops and Russians clients would ever dare to knock on the front door of 124 80th SW Street. Tonight, however, the door had been bashed in. As the cops began cordoning off the scene of the crime, there lay at least thirty dead Mobsters in the building, each one of them killed with more efficiency and morbidity than the last. Heads were bashed in, faces missing, guts seemingly pulled out from their stomachs, many of them their weapons lain next to them, untouched and unused.

Detective Charles Handley, who had been on the force for at least two decades, walked out of the apartment, and immediately bent over the side rail of the stairs, and lost his dinner. He couldn't help but notice how intricate the wrought-iron side rail was, and how contrasted the care and detail that had gone into such a menial part of the building was compared to the rest of the filing cabinet of a building. Handley, helped by his new partner, whose name he hadn't bothered to learn yet, stood up, hsi impressive height of six foot four inches causing him to dominate the crime scene.

He lit a cigarette, and reviewed the facts to himself, his partner thinking, naively, that he was talking to him. "The apartment was shitty. Though most around here are, not sure why this one would have been any different. Maybe that's why the Russians chose it. Discreet. Well, it worked. Until tonight. Some bastards broke into here with the finesse of professional assassins but the bloodlust of psychopathic killers. Dangerous combination if I've ever seen one. I don't think this was a hit from a rival mob, but it was too skilled to be a random violent encounter. Not to mention the total lack of casualties from whomever broke in here." He took a long drag, his short crew cut showing his bright silver-grey hair in the light provided by the police sirens. He was getting too old for this shit.

"Maybe it's connected to the other one, the hit on the night club, about, what, a week or two back? Same MO, at least. Professional, but completely unrestrained. A lot of blood, a lot of bodies. Either way, if this is a random thing, it'll be near-impossible to stop. No prints, no reason, no living witnesses." Handley ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Well, we've got all night." He said, addressing his partner. "Let's get to it."

Welcome to Hotline Miami: Conference Call, an RP inspired by the video game and universe of the same name. In this RP, which immediately precedes the events of the first game, players will have the option to play as a member of the Vigilantes, who, by night, receive phone calls from a seemingly-anonymous source, which orders them to slaughter a number of Russian Mobsters at a given location. These vigilantes, who were, more often than not, in the wrong place at the wrong time, now are headquartered at the Hog's Head, a dive bar that has seen better days. Sometimes, the calls will come into the bar, or into the individual homes of the Vigilantes.

Alternatively, players will also be able to play as the Russian Hitmen brought from across the country and the world and hired by the Russian Mob in order to hunt down and eliminate these vigilantes, who have begun to be a serious thorn in the side of the Russian Mafia's operations in Miami. These Hitmen will receive their orders from the top, and are being paid six figures in order to hunt down and slaughter the Vigilantes.

As the grand tale of crime and punishment in Miami begins to unfold, things may not be all that they seem. Your orders, fellow players, are to follow.

Applications:

For those who need to read up on the Hotline: Miami Universe.

by **Transoxthraxia** » Wed Jul 29, 2015 3:54 pm

Name: Isabela
Gender: Female.
Age: 24.
Personality: Isabela used to be a caring person. She was brought up by her parents, illegal immigrants from Cuba and Saudi Arabia, as a hard worker and dedicated, loyal person. However, during her adult life, she began to doubt her upbringing and the values instilled in it, as she was forced into hard labour and shitty jobs. As the calls started, she embraced further what she had interpreted as a hatred for society and Man in general.
Reasons for doing what you do: Mostly for fun. When she first started getting the phone calls, she was coerced into executing the hits, however, she has not only grown used to it, but fond of it as well.
Appearance: Here.
Background: Cubano-Arab.
Nationality: She's an American Citizen, though her parents weren't.
Mask: The Leech Mask.
Special Ability: Bloodthirsty: The more she kills, the faster and more efficient she gets.
Preferred Weapon(s): Her preferred weapon is a power drill, though a baseball bat would also suffice, failing that.
Biography: Born a daughter to an illegal Cuban immigrant and his Saudi wife, Isabela grew up in perpetual terror that she and her family would be deported back to Cuba the minute Customs found them. However, despite this fear, her father took great care of her, wanting her life in this world to be much better than the life that he lived. During her teen years, she applied and received her American citizenship, making her a legal American citizen living in Miami.

She moved out when her father died from overworking and physical exhaustion mixed with alcoholism, a trait that ran through the family and afflicted Isabela. She held on to a few odd jobs, here and there, before becoming an exotic dancer, forced to due to her impoverished condition. This, however, only lasted a few months before her mother was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, something that required a large amount of funding and personal time investment from a loved one. Her only living relative, Isabela, was coerced into looking after her mother.

Soon after she quit her job and began looking after her mother full-time, she began drinking heavily, and this is when the calls started. At first, they began by threatening Isabela's mother, but soon just gave her places or names to eliminate. She remains quiet about her history and her background to fellow Masks, however.

by **Tarnen** » Wed Jul 29, 2015 3:59 pm

by **Mandicoria** » Wed Jul 29, 2015 5:05 pm

by **Susria** » Wed Jul 29, 2015 5:28 pm

Mask Application

Name: Jacob

Gender: Male

Age: 24

Personality:
The erratic type. Introverted, Observing, Thinking, and Prospecting (ISTP) are key characteristics that define Jacob. He isn't very good in social situations, being very shy. He doesn't really have an instinct, and instead bases what he does off of what he sees and his surroundings. He is not very emotional and is instead a thinker, applying cold hard reason to things. However, this is a very dwarfed sense of his, because he can drift into obscure irrationality. He is not someone to look at things as they currently are and instead of how they will be, always trying to predict the future and find links between things. He himself has a very low self-image and is very turbulent in his actions and reactions.

Reasons for doing what you do: Because of self-hatred and a deep sense of not belonging, the phone calls gave him something to do, someone to be, and something to actively fill his head with. He saw it not only as an opportunity to possibly get himself killed, but as an opportunity to maybe prove himself wrong and be someone better than he was.

Appearance: He has a short and skinny frame, being only 5'10 and weighing closer to 120 pounds. His head adorns not too long unevenly cut dirty blonde hair and a pair of light coffee colored eyes. He has smaller facial features and prominent cheek bones. He has a small amount of facial hair that he hasn't shaved yet, however it's all under his nose.

Background: His father was French and his Mother was the typical American.

Nationality: United States Citizenship.

Mask: Rabbit mask.

Special Ability: Acrobatic; Gets bursts of energy by means of jumps, rolls, and dashes.

Preferred Weapon(s): Crowbars, golf clubs, and baseball bats.

Biography:
Born in Fort Lauderdale, a city just north of Miami to a single mother, Jacob grew up mostly as a lonely and secluded child, often skipping school and faking sick because of extreme social anxiety and lack of stability and guidance in his life. His mother worked night jobs and slept all day, leaving him mostly free to do what he wanted in the day. His childhood besides that was mostly uneventful and led to a depressed adolescence.

During his teenage years Jacob starting smoking pot and selling a bit on the side to make extra cash. It saved him from the bullies in school, who were much stronger than him. He was a uninspired teen who got bad to average grades. When his mother and him moved to Miami when he was sixteen, he moved out and got his own place, using money from pot and working in a nearby paint shop to pay for rent. He dropped out of school soon after and lived the remainder of his teenage years a self loathing and self proclaimed failure.

He started drinking at twenty and was arrested twice for fake ID's, finally let off after a few thousand in fines. He had to stop selling pot and instead moved onto his more successful job of painting cars and trucks. At the age of twenty four he has had a life time of anger, self pity, and sadness ready to be released on those around him.

Hitman Application

Name: Leonid Grigorov

Gender: Male.

Age: 27

Personality:
The likable type. Extroverted, being Intuitive, Thinking, and Judging are a few things that Grigorov holds up in his personality (ENTJ). Grigorov is a fairly talkative man, excelling at social circumstances, of course using this to his advantage so he can manipulate others to get what he wants. Being an extrovert, Grigorov has developed many social and talking skills.

He's especially good at manipulation and tricking people. He also relies on his gut a lot, trusting himself before anything else. This independent attitude is exactly what made him a good choice for a cleaner. He's a careful planner, taking most things into consideration and analyzing things, judging each thing individually before setting off. He's a great team player and a good leader.

Appearance:

An average height of just barely 6'0 and a thin, yet muscular, frame weighing a steady 149 pounds. Grigorov has shaved all his hair on his head and face, except for his eyebrows which are a light brown. His eyes are a uninteresting shade of blue and his pale Caucasian skin compliments his Slavic features. He wears the typical uniform of the Russian Mafia, with a white open suit and a blue undershirt, except he has a black tie to go along with it, rather than the typically tie-less attire of the lesser peons of the organization.

Background: Grigorov's parents are both full-blooded Russians.

Nationality: Soviet Citizenship and United States Citizenship.

Weapons and Equipment: Two silenced handguns. Each one is kept in a holster under his suit jacket. Whenever he enters a building he carries with him his pocket knife first, however.

Biograhy:
Born in Lavrentiya on the Kamchatka peninsula, not too far from Alaska, he was raised in a stable environment in the Soviet Union until he was eighteen, where he attended his compulsory service for a year and trained to be a soldier. However, he was discharged before being sent to any active duty and instead was smuggled into Alaska by a few contacts that his friends new. He managed to get permission by the Supreme Soviet of the Politburo of the Soviet Union to "operate in America" and was not only allowed to keep his Soviet Citizenship, but was given fake American papers.

He learned English from his contacts in Alaska before being smuggled first to Los Angeles, then to Dallas, then to New York, then, finally, to Miami. Here his contacts gave him a strong letter introducing him to the local Russian Mafia where he quickly became a brother of the organization and joined it. His skills with weaponry, his support from the Motherland, and his military training from the USSR all gave him a lot of leverage over the other members of the organization -- not to mention the fact that instead of just being descended from a Russian, he was born in the country.

This gave him an elevated status early on, and his travels through the country also became widely known in the organization, adding to his fame and adding to his acceptable possibility of advancement. After becoming well known for his escapades and loyalty, and after talking his way into things after a few drinks, he managed to achieve his position at a relatively young age.

by **The Aspari Syndicate** » Wed Jul 29, 2015 8:20 pm

Name: Marduk

Gender: Male

Age: 24

Personality: Trent is an autocrat. His passion is control, and control is what he seeks in every relationship he has; he's got a touch of megalomania, and views himself as a god among mortals. Of course, parading such feelings in public has a tendency to alienate those whom one associates with, and as such he only reveals his "divinity" to those who are already somewhat supplicant to him.

Reasons for doing what you do: "Taking Calls" gives him a deep sense of importance, and it reasserts his delusions of grandeur: After all, what greater victory is there than slaughtering another? What greater assurance of dominance could there be than to hold a life in your hands, then snuff it out?

Appearance: Tall and powerfully-built; he works out frequently, and takes his fitness very seriously. He favors tailored suits in day-to-day life, but when taking calls he prefers classic equestrian attire.

Background: WASP.

Nationality: English, but his career is in the US.

Mask: Horse Mask

Special Ability: His primary weapon is his family's antique double-barreled shotgun; it was made long before the current era, and is of somewhat sterner stuff than the average weapon. His shotgun is nigh-indestructible, and he can use it for things other than shooting without any fear of damaging it (I.E. Smashing down doors, gliding down ziplines, and melee combat). He obviously can't hammer through a steel door or stop more than one bullet, but it can certainly endure dramatically more than a normal gun. His own endurance is also substantially greater than an average person; his confidence in his own invulnerability renders him very difficult to injure with melee weapons or pistols. Of course, a headshot or an impromptu tracheotomy will still put him down for good, but short of that he'll keep fighting until his body can't hold him up anymore.

Preferred Weapon(s): His family's beautiful antique double-barreled shotgun is almost always his primary weapon, though he also favors sawn-off shotguns as back-up pieces. When he gets up-close and personal, the shotgun's weight is his greatest advantage; the thick, gold-inlaid butt stock has ended almost as many lives as the shells it spits.

Biography: Trent came to Miami on business, and was at first disgusted with the town. It seemed that everyone there was dying in one way or another, and he couldn't tell who was worse: the elderly people fighting for their final years as slowly as possible, or the young people eagerly poisoning their bodies and throwing themselves into depravity faster and faster each night. He kept himself above such petty debauchery, but no one who visits Miami can leave untainted; something called to him as he sat in his lofty corner office, trying to remember what it was like to love his job. Every night he drove home past the same old bars, and every night he ignored them... until the night it all changed. His job went precisely as it should have; his lunch was delicious as usual; there was nothing in the air or water to implicate in his conversion. But when he drove home that night, he stopped instead of cruising past. He drank too much, blacked out, and awakened on the couch of a stranger, his suit rumpled and stained.

After that, he blossomed into a small-time legend in the Miami underground: he would buy drinks for the whole bar, and went harder and faster than anyone there can manage. Fit, smart, and richer than any of them, he was The Man. Things were better for him, for a while at least. He worked through the day, counting the hours til nightfall, to the time he could return to his people. The young people of the city worshiped him, The Bringer of Drinks, He Who Fights and Wins, and he guzzled it down faster than the cheap vodka flowing like water in the bars. He started hosting parties at his home in the rich part of town, parties that made the bar scene look tame. The parties turned to darker pursuits, as they often do, and things went downhill from there. He began demanding homage from his minions, rituals performed in his name... and they responded with slavish delight. But this alone wasn't enough.... He craved more, NEEDED more. That was when the calls began. They said they knew about him and what he'd done, but they were content to keep it a secret if he would do them a little favor. The first time was like bitter ashes in his mouth, as was the second and the third. But after a while, they stopped demanding. They stopped threatening, and soon their orders were heard as requests from his beloved servants. Whoever they were, they needed him, and as their god and master he had a responsibility to answer their prayers. With every massacre his confidence in his divinity grows, and that growth is mirrored by the growth of his flock: just like a fungus feasting on a rotting body, his disease will continue to spread. In his heart of hearts, he is afraid of what he is becoming... but for the sake of his apotheosis, his god-self hopes that the blood will never cease to flow.

by **Galdius** » Thu Jul 30, 2015 3:12 pm

Sick.

Sssssiiiccckkkkk.

(THIS IS A TAG)

by **Ubaria** » Thu Jul 30, 2015 4:43 pm

Done. Bit of a Clich'e backstory but hey...

Name: Wei
Gender: Male
Age: 25

Personality: Efficient and determined. Wei has acquired a powerful drive though a life of hardships and toils and always has an air of confidence about him. Though through this hardship he has learned not to take things at face value, and maintains a quiet persona, preferring to observe from a distance and only really talking when thrust into social situations or when the consequences demand it. All in all he is a person who thinks he is well worn, when infact, he doesn't know the half of it.

Reasons for doing what you do: A mix of a quest for personal revenge and fulfilling his violent tendencies. The calls are a simple way to organize hits on the Russian mob and collect information on their various activities.

Appearance:

Wei is also of a somewhat slim build and has a height of 5ft 11, he has a black serpent Tattoo on his right arm that he tends to keep covered over.
Background: Japanese
Nationality: Dual Japanese/American passport.
Mask: Giant Asian Hornet
Special Ability: Starts with a Katana Blade and can use it on multiple enemies in a room to lethal effect.
Preferred Weapon(s): Katana, Bladed weapons.

Biography: Born on the West Coast into a large Asian community, Wei was part of a family known for its culinary prowess in the Asian district of Los Angeles, serving fine Japanese and several other Asian dishes in a fine restaurant fit to dine many of L.A's upper class citizens, it was a business that his parents had clawed most of their life for and they prided themselves on it. Though with many large self run businesses at the time, it came under the close eye of many of the criminal underworlds many powerful figures who wished to use it for a variety of 'questionably legal activities'. When not at school or studying, Wei spent his time in the Kitchens, starting off as a simple pot washer and cleaner, though with his parents guidance he soon became a chef, though this wasn't really what Wei had in mind for a life. He had other things in mind that his parents really frowned upon, he wanted to be a Martial Arts fighter, growing up with many Kung-Fu movies on the Television, which was most of his inspiration, he wished to train to become a master fighter and often snuck out of hte house to observe the local Dojo's where warriors trained night and day.

Meanwhile his parents business was coming under more and more pressure from the local Russian Mob cell in the city, who wished to deny the Japanese Yakuza scene a forward base in the district and the two factions increased negotiations until one day...breaking point. Wei was doing his normal after hours sweep-up of the Kitchen, his parents were up in the Managers office sorting out taxes and the like when five white jacketed armed men stormed the building armed with rifles and pistols, Wei hid in a storage cupboard and could do nothing as he heard bullets, screams, more bullets and eventually silence. Five armed men walked back out the way they came with blood on their suits. Wei rushed upstairs to find his parents both already dead, bleeding profusely from multiple bullet wounds. They had been defiant until the end.

A grief stricken Wei dropped out of school and sulked for many weeks, living with his Aunt, who tried to console the boy as much as she could, but Wei had other things on his mind. He snuck into a Martial Arts studio most days and studied the fighters there, how they moved, their unyielding speed mixed with controlled aggression, until he got caught. After pleading many times, the Instructor reluctantly agreed to take him under his own wing, he trained for hours on end every day all the while he searched for the men who murdered his parents. A couple of years later and Wei caught a break, a couple of white jacketed men sat in a bar across the street from his very Dojo, similar looking attire and even more familiar accent. From overhearing their conversation he managed to deduce that they were based out of Miami, simply here for a liaison with local Triads. Miami is where Wei would head next. Oh. After murdering both the men by slitting their throats. Knowing he would be hunted, Wei fled to Miami and started tracking the Russian Mob again from a run down apartment complex which he called home. After a while he started receiving strange phonecalls, leading him to various establishments where dozens of white jacketed Russian Mobsters resided. The phonecalls also directed him to a local Dive Bar...the Hogs Head, where a group of likeminded individuals sought out the same objective. Killing.

by **Transoxthraxia** » Thu Jul 30, 2015 8:21 pm

Galdius wrote:Sick.

Sssssiiiccckkkkk.

(THIS IS A TAG)

Huzzah.

As for the rest of the applications, I'll get to looking at them tonight, once I down a few more Gin & Tonics.

by **Galdius** » Fri Jul 31, 2015 2:20 pm

I'll have my app up sometime tonight or tomorrow.

by **Jessjohnesik** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 5:53 am

Yo Trans, can we make third-party characters?

Since I assume the answer is most likely no, with what group would a psychopathic professional killer be aligned with? Considering she isn't Russian and can be into either job as long as it pays and she gets to kill people, which thrills her to a slight extent. Which also given she isn't batshit insane or completely deranged, she is actually pretty intelligent and rational, even if impulsive and unstable, occasionally too aggressive as well.

by **Transoxthraxia** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 10:09 am

Ubaria wrote:Done. Bit of a Clich'e backstory but hey...

Name: Wei
Gender: Male
Age: 25

Personality: Efficient and determined. Wei has acquired a powerful drive though a life of hardships and toils and always has an air of confidence about him. Though through this hardship he has learned not to take things at face value, and maintains a quiet persona, preferring to observe from a distance and only really talking when thrust into social situations or when the consequences demand it. All in all he is a person who thinks he is well worn, when infact, he doesn't know the half of it.

Reasons for doing what you do: A mix of a quest for personal revenge and fulfilling his violent tendencies. The calls are a simple way to organize hits on the Russian mob and collect information on their various activities.

Appearance:
(Image)

Wei is also of a somewhat slim build and has a height of 5ft 11, he has a black serpent Tattoo on his right arm that he tends to keep covered over.
Background: Japanese
Nationality: Dual Japanese/American passport.
Mask: Black Vipers Head
Special Ability: Starts with a Katana Blade and can use it on multiple enemies in a room to lethal effect.
Preferred Weapon(s): Katana, Bladed weapons.

Biography: Born on the West Coast into a large Asian community, Wei was part of a family known for its culinary prowess in the Asian district of Los Angeles, serving fine Japanese and several other Asian dishes in a fine restaurant fit to dine many of L.A's upper class citizens, it was a business that his parents had clawed most of their life for and they prided themselves on it. Though with many large self run businesses at the time, it came under the close eye of many of the criminal underworlds many powerful figures who wished to use it for a variety of 'questionably legal activities'. When not at school or studying, Wei spent his time in the Kitchens, starting off as a simple pot washer and cleaner, though with his parents guidance he soon became a chef, though this wasn't really what Wei had in mind for a life. He had other things in mind that his parents really frowned upon, he wanted to be a Martial Arts fighter, growing up with many Kung-Fu movies on the Television, which was most of his inspiration, he wished to train to become a master fighter and often snuck out of hte house to observe the local Dojo's where warriors trained night and day.

Meanwhile his parents business was coming under more and more pressure from the local Russian Mob cell in the city, who wished to deny the Japanese Yakuza scene a forward base in the district and the two factions increased negotiations until one day...breaking point. Wei was doing his normal after hours sweep-up of the Kitchen, his parents were up in the Managers office sorting out taxes and the like when five white jacketed armed men stormed the building armed with rifles and pistols, Wei hid in a storage cupboard and could do nothing as he heard bullets, screams, more bullets and eventually silence. Five armed men walked back out the way they came with blood on their suits. Wei rushed upstairs to find his parents both already dead, bleeding profusely from multiple bullet wounds. They had been defiant until the end.

A grief stricken Wei dropped out of school and sulked for many weeks, living with his Aunt, who tried to console the boy as much as she could, but Wei had other things on his mind. He snuck into a Martial Arts studio most days and studied the fighters there, how they moved, their unyielding speed mixed with controlled aggression, until he got caught. After pleading many times, the Instructor reluctantly agreed to take him under his own wing, he trained for hours on end every day all the while he searched for the men who murdered his parents. A couple of years later and Wei caught a break, a couple of white jacketed men sat in a bar across the street from his very Dojo, similar looking attire and even more familiar accent. From overhearing their conversation he managed to deduce that they were based out of Miami, simply here for a liaison with local Triads. Miami is where Wei would head next. Oh. After murdering both the men by slitting their throats. Knowing he would be hunted, Wei fled to Miami and started tracking the Russian Mob again from a run down apartment complex which he called home. After a while he started receiving strange phonecalls, leading him to various establishments where dozens of white jacketed Russian Mobsters resided. The phonecalls also directed him to a local Dive Bar...the Hogs Head, where a group of likeminded individuals sought out the same objective. Killing.

Welcome to the party, Ub.

Accepted!

Mandicoria wrote:
Name: Johnny
Gender: Male
Age: 23

Personality: A rather pleasant individual (A bit moody at times due to lack of sleep.), but utterly psychotic (And has one hell of a bloodlust) when the mask gets put on.
Reasons for doing what you do: Because not only is it the only thrill that can be felt, but it is pure euphoria.

Appearance: (>implying I'm doing a picture) 5'9", 166 lbs
Black Hair, brown eyes (Hair has a faded trace of blue hair dye)
Darkened areas around eyes due to sleep deprivation.
Wears a combo of navy blue jeans, a black jacket, black leather gloves a white shirt, and your typical sneakers.
Has some slight muscle.

Background: Dude's basically a WASP.
Nationality: American

Mask: Wolf Mask
Special Ability: Able to take down any enemy with any knife, starts with a kitchen knife. Cannot use other melee weapons. Reduced ammo with guns.
Preferred Weapon(s): Any type of knife

Biography: Came down from the state of Ohio with his family back when he was 14, Johnny's had your typical upbringing. Both parents in the house, 1 other sibling, and good grades in school. Despite his good upbringing, he always yearned for something to excite him. Thanks to his "boredom", multiple times through his childhood he either attempted suicide or got into increasingly bad situations. By the time he was 17, his parents cleaned up his "desperate" behavior; thus allowing the rest of his young adult life uneventful.

Jumping from well-paying job to lower pay-grade ones just to experience "unfortunate" life. Along with going to lower paying jobs, he tried going to parties and night clubs, always getting new lovers and trying new forms of liquor and drugs. He never got a single thrill from any of those. Thanks to absolutely nothing giving him the thrills he seeks from life he fell into a deep depression, getting ready to spiral back into how he was during his teens. Before his life changed forever, he attempted suicide by asphyxiation; the only reason he didn't succeed was because his neighbor visited to return a borrowed item.

A week after his suicide attempt (And right before he was going to try again) he got a phonecall and recieved a package. That package not only had a wolf mask in it, but the thrill Johnny needed for his life to be worth living. His first "night out" involved him only bringing a kitchen knife to a small, run down house filled with 13 Russian mobsters. He killed each and every one of them, each extremely gruesomely. Each and every night since that first call, he's been recieving more calls, and has been killing more mobsters. Thanks to this amazing feeling he recieved he has been getting less and less sleep, because all he wants is to experience every thrill possible.

>implying you need to imply things

Accepted!

Susria wrote:
Mask Application

Name: Jacob

Gender: Male

Age: 24

Personality:
The erratic type. Introverted, Observing, Thinking, and Prospecting (ISTP) are key characteristics that define Jacob. He isn't very good in social situations, being very shy. He doesn't really have an instinct, and instead bases what he does off of what he sees and his surroundings. He is not very emotional and is instead a thinker, applying cold hard reason to things. However, this is a very dwarfed sense of his, because he can drift into obscure irrationality. He is not someone to look at things as they currently are and instead of how they will be, always trying to predict the future and find links between things. He himself has a very low self-image and is very turbulent in his actions and reactions.

Reasons for doing what you do: Because of self-hatred and a deep sense of not belonging, the phone calls gave him something to do, someone to be, and something to actively fill his head with. He saw it not only as an opportunity to possibly get himself killed, but as an opportunity to maybe prove himself wrong and be someone better than he was.

Appearance: He has a short and skinny frame, being only 5'10 and weighing closer to 120 pounds. His head adorns not too long unevenly cut dirty blonde hair and a pair of light coffee colored eyes. He has smaller facial features and prominent cheek bones. He has a small amount of facial hair that he hasn't shaved yet, however it's all under his nose.

Background: His father was French and his Mother was the typical American.

Nationality: United States Citizenship.

Mask: Rabbit mask.

Special Ability: Acrobatic; Gets bursts of energy by means of jumps, rolls, and dashes.

Preferred Weapon(s): Crowbars, golf clubs, and baseball bats.

Biography:
Born in Fort Lauderdale, a city just north of Miami to a single mother, Jacob grew up mostly as a lonely and secluded child, often skipping school and faking sick because of extreme social anxiety and lack of stability and guidance in his life. His mother worked night jobs and slept all day, leaving him mostly free to do what he wanted in the day. His childhood besides that was mostly uneventful and led to a depressed adolescence.

During his teenage years Jacob starting smoking pot and selling a bit on the side to make extra cash. It saved him from the bullies in school, who were much stronger than him. He was a uninspired teen who got bad to average grades. When his mother and him moved to Miami when he was sixteen, he moved out and got his own place, using money from pot and working in a nearby paint shop to pay for rent. He dropped out of school soon after and lived the remainder of his teenage years a self loathing and self proclaimed failure.

He started drinking at twenty and was arrested twice for fake ID's, finally let off after a few thousand in fines. He had to stop selling pot and instead moved onto his more successful job of painting cars and trucks. At the age of twenty four he has had a life time of anger, self pity, and sadness ready to be released on those around him.

Hitman Application

Name: Leonid Grigorov

Gender: Male.

Age: 27

Personality:
The likable type. Extroverted, being Intuitive, Thinking, and Judging are a few things that Grigorov holds up in his personality (ENTJ). Grigorov is a fairly talkative man, excelling at social circumstances, of course using this to his advantage so he can manipulate others to get what he wants. Being an extrovert, Grigorov has developed many social and talking skills.

He's especially good at manipulation and tricking people. He also relies on his gut a lot, trusting himself before anything else. This independent attitude is exactly what made him a good choice for a cleaner. He's a careful planner, taking most things into consideration and analyzing things, judging each thing individually before setting off. He's a great team player and a good leader.

Appearance:

(Image)

An average height of just barely 6'0 and a thin, yet muscular, frame weighing a steady 149 pounds. Grigorov has shaved all his hair on his head and face, except for his eyebrows which are a light brown. His eyes are a uninteresting shade of blue and his pale Caucasian skin compliments his Slavic features. He wears the typical uniform of the Russian Mafia, with a white open suit and a blue undershirt, except he has a black tie to go along with it, rather than the typically tie-less attire of the lesser peons of the organization.

Background: Grigorov's parents are both full-blooded Russians.

Nationality: Soviet Citizenship and United States Citizenship.

Weapons and Equipment: Two silenced handguns. Each one is kept in a holster under his suit jacket. Whenever he enters a building he carries with him his pocket knife first, however.

Biograhy:
Born in Lavrentiya on the Kamchatka peninsula, not too far from Alaska, he was raised in a stable environment in the Soviet Union until he was eighteen, where he attended his compulsory service for a year and trained to be a soldier. However, he was discharged before being sent to any active duty and instead was smuggled into Alaska by a few contacts that his friends new. He managed to get permission by the Supreme Soviet of the Politburo of the Soviet Union to "operate in America" and was not only allowed to keep his Soviet Citizenship, but was given fake American papers.

He learned English from his contacts in Alaska before being smuggled first to Los Angeles, then to Dallas, then to New York, then, finally, to Miami. Here his contacts gave him a strong letter introducing him to the local Russian Mafia where he quickly became a brother of the organization and joined it. His skills with weaponry, his support from the Motherland, and his military training from the USSR all gave him a lot of leverage over the other members of the organization -- not to mention the fact that instead of just being descended from a Russian, he was born in the country.

This gave him an elevated status early on, and his travels through the country also became widely known in the organization, adding to his fame and adding to his acceptable possibility of advancement. After becoming well known for his escapades and loyalty, and after talking his way into things after a few drinks, he managed to achieve his position at a relatively young age.

Your initial applications were good, but this is fantastic work. Accepted!

The Aspari Syndicate wrote:Name: Marduk

Gender: Male

Age: 24

Personality: Trent is an autocrat. His passion is control, and control is what he seeks in every relationship he has; he's got a touch of megalomania, and views himself as a god among mortals. Of course, parading such feelings in public has a tendency to alienate those whom one associates with, and as such he only reveals his "divinity" to those who are already somewhat supplicant to him.

Reasons for doing what you do: "Taking Calls" gives him a deep sense of importance, and it reasserts his delusions of grandeur: After all, what greater victory is there than slaughtering another? What greater assurance of dominance could there be than to hold a life in your hands, then snuff it out?

Appearance: Tall and powerfully-built; he works out frequently, and takes his fitness very seriously. He favors tailored suits in day-to-day life, but when taking calls he prefers classic equestrian attire.

Background: WASP.

Nationality: English, but his career is in the US.

Mask: Horse Mask

Special Ability: His primary weapon is his family's antique double-barreled shotgun; it was made long before the current era, and is of somewhat sterner stuff than the average weapon. His shotgun is nigh-indestructible, and he can use it for things other than shooting without any fear of damaging it (I.E. Smashing down doors, gliding down ziplines, and melee combat). He obviously can't hammer through a steel door or stop more than one bullet, but it can certainly endure dramatically more than a normal gun.

Preferred Weapon(s): His family's beautiful antique double-barreled shotgun is almost always his primary weapon, though he also favors sawn-off shotguns as back-up pieces. When he gets up-close and personal, the shotgun's weight is his greatest advantage; the thick, gold-inlaid butt stock has ended almost as many lives as the shells it spits.

Biography: Trent came to Miami on business, and was at first disgusted with the town. It seemed that everyone there was dying in one way or another, and he couldn't tell who was worse: the elderly people fighting for their final years as slowly as possible, or the young people eagerly poisoning their bodies and throwing themselves into depravity faster and faster each night. He kept himself above such petty debauchery, but no one who visits Miami can leave untainted; something called to him as he sat in his lofty corner office, trying to remember what it was like to love his job. Every night he drove home past the same old bars, and every night he ignored them... until the night it all changed. His job went precisely as it should have; his lunch was delicious as usual; there was nothing in the air or water to implicate in his conversion. But when he drove home that night, he stopped instead of cruising past. He drank too much, blacked out, and awakened on the couch of a stranger, his suit rumpled and stained.

After that, he blossomed into a small-time legend in the Miami underground: he would buy drinks for the whole bar, and went harder and faster than anyone there can manage. Fit, smart, and richer than any of them, he was The Man. Things were better for him, for a while at least. He worked through the day, counting the hours til nightfall, to the time he could return to his people. The young people of the city worshiped him, The Bringer of Drinks, He Who Fights and Wins, and he guzzled it down faster than the cheap vodka flowing like water in the bars. He started hosting parties at his home in the rich part of town, parties that made the bar scene look tame. The parties turned to darker pursuits, as they often do, and things went downhill from there. He began demanding homage from his minions, rituals performed in his name... and they responded with slavish delight. But this alone wasn't enough.... He craved more, NEEDED more. That was when the calls began. They said they knew about him and what he'd done, but they were content to keep it a secret if he would do them a little favor. The first time was like bitter ashes in his mouth, as was the second and the third. But after a while, they stopped demanding. They stopped threatening, and soon their orders were heard as requests from his beloved servants. Whoever they were, they needed him, and as their god and master he had a responsibility to answer their prayers. With every massacre his confidence in his divinity grows, and that growth is mirrored by the growth of his flock: just like a fungus feasting on a rotting body, his disease will continue to spread. In his heart of hearts, he is afraid of what he is becoming... but for the sake of his apotheosis, his god-self hopes that the blood will never cease to flow.[/spoiler]

I fucking love the idea for this character. But are you sure the only power you want is the double barrel?

by **Transoxthraxia** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 10:14 am

Jessjohnesik wrote:Yo Trans, can we make third-party characters?

Since I assume the answer is most likely no, with what group would a psychopathic professional killer be aligned with? Considering she isn't Russian and can be into either job as long as it pays and she gets to kill people, which thrills her to a slight extent. Which also given she isn't batshit insane or completely deranged, she is actually pretty intelligent and rational, even if impulsive and unstable, occasionally too aggressive as well.

That could be either, but most mob-hured professional killers use discretion and precision as opposed to blood-induced rage, since they might perceive such as mentally unstable, unpredictable, and ultimately unreliable. What you could do is make a mask that was or is a "hired gun", kind of a mercenary that works for mobs instead of countries. You'd keep the professional killer angle while giving yourself a plausible tradon to maintain being psychopathic.

by **The United Eastern States of Europe** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 11:13 am

Name: Rakel Jakobsen (Yay-cob-sen), known professionally as 'Snowflake'
Gender: Female
Age: 34
Personality: Values money above all, no allegiance but to money, dutiful, diligent, patient,
Appearance:

Background: Born a Norwegian a national.
Nationality: Norwegian National, US Citizenship, British Passport
Weapons and Equipment: 1x Beretta 93R, silenced. 1x L96A1, silencer detachable.
Biograhy: Rakel Jakobsen was never meant to be. Born a mistake, her abusive father killed her mother just months after her birth. She was taken away to be put into foster care. She had to stay in an orphanage until the age of 10, when she was adopted by a British family struggling for a child. English was a subject Rakel excelled at, only making the occasional slip up to this day. Her British family tried to raise the broken child to be as upper-class as they. However, this just caused her to resent them increasingly for taking her from her rue home, and trying to change her.

By the time Rakel reached an age to live on her own, she had already built quite the record for bad behaviour which her 'parents' bailed her out of anyway they could. Arson, assault and drunk & disorderly were among the most common. Leaving her home at 20 forced her family to stop the bailouts. This caused a heated argument between the family, resulting in the suspicious deaths of both Rakel's foster parents. After, she fled back to Norway.

Back in her home nation, Rakel struggled on a minimum wage job to barely make ends meets. She lived in squalor and felt like a foreigner, despite being a national. One night, she drew the attention of the third largest mob boss in Frederiksberg, Felix Olavarsonn. She found herself kidnapped, but after an attempted sexual assault she fought back. Knocking out one of her captors and killing three others, she left with Felix's blood all over her knuckles. Rakel woke the next morning to find a parcel with a Beretta, L96, cash and a thank you note inside.

Her encouter had earned her a name and tools. Rakel quit her job and began work as a hired gun. Her 88.4% success rate had only helped contribute to her business. Her abilities were also known across the pond, forcing her arrange a small area to operate out of in the US and even go as far as getting citizenship. Charging for expenses as well as payment for the task, Rakel stored most of her money, not really certain what to do with it.

by **Jessjohnesik** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 11:25 am

Transoxthraxia wrote:
Jessjohnesik wrote:Yo Trans, can we make third-party characters?

Since I assume the answer is most likely no, with what group would a psychopathic professional killer be aligned with? Considering she isn't Russian and can be into either job as long as it pays and she gets to kill people, which thrills her to a slight extent. Which also given she isn't batshit insane or completely deranged, she is actually pretty intelligent and rational, even if impulsive and unstable, occasionally too aggressive as well.

That could be either, but most mob-hured professional killers use discretion and precision as opposed to blood-induced rage, since they might perceive such as mentally unstable, unpredictable, and ultimately unreliable. What you could do is make a mask that was or is a "hired gun", kind of a mercenary that works for mobs instead of countries. You'd keep the professional killer angle while giving yourself a plausible tradon to maintain being psychopathic.

I see. Great. Thanks.

Although while unpredictability could ultimately be harmful to both her and the organisation she works for, I kind of plan on her to utilise that unpredictability to her advantage, given she's highly opportunistic as well.

Anyways, I should probably start making an app.

Unless I suddenly start feeling demotivated again, I'd definitely want to join this.

by **The United Eastern States of Europe** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 12:17 pm

Finished

by **Ubaria** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 12:27 pm

I feel like we need a soundtrack up in here to set the mood.

by **Susria** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 12:58 pm

Ubaria wrote:I feel like we need a soundtrack up in here to set the mood.

The best Hotline Miami song is probably Simma Hem...

The best Hotline Miami song that ACTUALLY matters is up for GREAT debate. I love Silver Lights, however.

by **The United Eastern States of Europe** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 1:00 pm

Susria wrote:
Ubaria wrote:I feel like we need a soundtrack up in here to set the mood.

The best Hotline Miami song is probably Simma Hem...

The best Hotline Miami song that ACTUALLY matters is up for GREAT debate. I love Silver Lights, however.

*continues to sit and listen to 50's music :meh:

*

by **Susria** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 1:03 pm

The United Eastern States of Europe wrote:*continues to sit and listen to 50's music *

You need to get in the mood, friendo.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4zD4pL ... D&index=10

by **Ubaria** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 1:06 pm

Susria wrote:
Ubaria wrote:I feel like we need a soundtrack up in here to set the mood.

The best Hotline Miami song is probably Simma Hem...

The best Hotline Miami song that ACTUALLY matters is up for GREAT debate. I love Silver Lights, however.

3l Tigre - She Swallowed Burning Coals comes top for me.
Then the Scattle Remix of Roller Mobster.

by **The United Eastern States of Europe** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 1:07 pm

Susria wrote:
The United Eastern States of Europe wrote:*continues to sit and listen to 50's music *

You need to get in the mood, friendo.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4zD4pL ... D&index=10

Hey now, I have that playlist saved already :lol:

by **Susria** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 1:11 pm

Ubaria wrote:3l Tigre - She Swallowed Burning Coals comes top for me.
Then the Scattle Remix of Roller Mobster.

El Tigr3 is a great artist, but that's one of my least favourite of his.

His others (Die Cosmonaut, Heist, and Bleed Them White, notably,) are some of my favourites.

Here's the link if you were interested: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bZKVuOY ... hUGVsItqY2

by **Galdius** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 1:16 pm

Susria wrote:
Ubaria wrote:I feel like we need a soundtrack up in here to set the mood.

The best Hotline Miami song is probably Simma Hem...

The best Hotline Miami song that ACTUALLY matters is up for GREAT debate. I love Silver Lights, however.

Simma Hem is the worst track on HM2's soundtrack imo because it's not doesn't fit the 80's synth heavy theme that the soundtrack has at all, with it only fitting in the scene that it plays.

As for best tracks, on HM 1's soundtrack it Perturbator's Vengeance by far, Silver Lights close second, then followed by Le Huervo's Daisuke. Hotline Miami 2 had the superior soundtrack, with my favorite tracks being a tie between Le Prev and slum lord for me, though I love most of it, especially Mega Drive's stuff.

by **Susria** » Sat Aug 01, 2015 1:22 pm

Jessjohnesik wrote:Yo Trans, can we make third-party characters?

Since I assume the answer is most likely no, with what group would a psychopathic professional killer be aligned with? Considering she isn't Russian and can be into either job as long as it pays and she gets to kill people, which thrills her to a slight extent. Which also given she isn't batshit insane or completely deranged, she is actually pretty intelligent and rational, even if impulsive and unstable, occasionally too aggressive as well.

You can't really be in the Russian mafia without being Russian, so you might want to cut that out.

And if you want to get PAID for murdering people, this isn't really much of an RP for mercenary work. You're either going to be psychotic and ripping Russians' throats out, or you're going to be wearing a white suit and gunning down motherfuckers in animal masks.

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