Hello, and welcome to my first ever RP, Bornewood. This is a modern-day Mafia setting in a fictional, urban town called Bornewood, located in the state of New York; a fictional NYC, but oh well. You, the players, are just living in the city as new criminals. You will have free time, which you can roleplay or not, that's up to you and I won't penalize you if you decide not to. If you don't want to, just make a short post about how you went to sleep or watched TV; you get the idea.

Your goal in the Company is up to you. If you'd like to rise up and become the leader, then go for it. Want to be a federal agent? Make a note of it in your character sheet. You can even be a corrupt cop on the Company's payroll if you like. All I ask is that you start off around the bottom of the food chain. If you really, REALLY want to, you can be a mere citizen of Bornewood.

Granted, I might be biting off more than I can chew as a new GM, but you can't know your limits until you reach them. So, with that in mind, I'll be starting off with six characters, adding space as I deem myself capable of. It is possible to die in my RP, in which case I'll take someone off of a reserve list, should I have enough interested to make one. Dead characters can add another character to the reserve list, if they like. Here are the original 6 slots, with a note as to if they're taken or available. Please reserve with a post on the thread, and simply saying "spot" or something will work.

Please follow this template when designing your character:

I'm not setting an update schedule, but it will ideally be at least once a day, hopefully more. I'm sure I can find time in all the time I'm on my university campus to put something on here. If you have any questions about something you'd like to do, PM me and I'll answer you as soon as possible. My goal here is a sandbox RP of sorts, and I want my players to have a good level of freedom to make the game better. I'm the GM, but I want this to be your world.

Insert cheesy, rhetorical question here, and let's begin.

For now, only place your reservation and/or character sheet. Questions go in a PM and starting posts come once all 6 spots are filled.

Give me your opinon on it. If I need to change anything just tell me and I'll see what I can do.

I'm still not sure on some stuff :/ I'm not used to the Mafia yet XD Just tell me where I can improve. Also I'll try and get my picture up later

ARGH! I have so may RPs going, why must you tempt me with his Jedro? Curse you, curse you to hell!!

I may, or may not have a sheet up soon, I must decide!

Reserved. I'll send up a sheet in like, 10 minutes.

Also, it's good to be back.

Name: Raoul Schneider
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Appearance: Look at the picture. Other then that, he's about 6 foot and that's all really.
Vehicle: Audi R8
Gear: Silenced sig sauer just in case.
Background: Raoul was brought up in a rich German family and lived in Berlin for most of his life. He was taught good manners, grammer and actually went to school. After University, he decided to move to the USA to get a job. Later that year, however, Raoul's father was found out to have been in the drugs business. The police raided the Schneider Mansion and found £11 million's worth in drugs. Raoul's father was sentanced to life inprisonment.

Raoul was in America when this all happened and shattered his dreams. He was now broke and had no idea how he was going to live. He turned to crime at this point, prefering to charm upper class ladies and steal from them. Despite the nice car, the costly suit and the Hugo Boss aftershave, Raoul still has a cheap little flat that he would never invite one of his upper class "friends" to.
Misc.: Um... Supports Bayern Munich?
Picture:

Oh, oh! Can I use The Steve? (My recurring character)

Name: The Steve (the only name he gives)
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tall and lean, with a thin build which conceals surprising strength, though his main physical attribute is agility, and he moves with fluid efficiency at all times. His eyes are pale, icy blue.
Vehicle: The Steve prefers to travel on foot, and is good at both running and parkour, and so is able to get around the city at high speed.
Gear: For weapons, he has a small, easily concealed pistol and several knives, useful both for throwing and stabbing. Also concealed on his person is a garrotte wire and a wire saw. His jacket and gloves have metal sewn into them, invisible but powerful, both in offence and defence
Background: The Steve usually refuses to speak of his past, and many suspect that the stories he does tell are mere fiction. What little is certain is that he come form England, is in his early 20s, and is no new blood when it comes to organised crime
Misc.: Nothing that I can think of
Picture: None

goatzilla8463:
Also, it's good to be back.

Yay, goat's back from ... where have you been?

Also, can I be your buddy?

ThreeWords:
Yay, goat's back from ... where have you been?

Also, can I be your buddy?

maddawg IAJI:
Give me your opinon on it. If I need to change anything just tell me and I'll see what I can do.

No, no, it looks good.

sky14kemea:
I'm still not sure on some stuff :/ I'm not used to the Mafia yet XD Just tell me where I can improve. Also I'll try and get my picture up later

I'm not used to it either, really, just using Google to help out and kinda winging it =D

goatzilla8463:

OCC

Alright, you two are buddies, then.

ThreeWords:
Oh, oh! Can I use The Steve? (My recurring character)

Yes, you can.

Alright, just waiting on one more, maybe two if Shapsters chooses not to participate.

Name: "Little" Caesar Vicci
Age: 67
Gender: Male
Appearance: Short. Bald. Muscular. Wrinkled face. Wears business attire. Hides Machete inside of coat. Hides Shotgun in briefcase.
Vehicle: Mini Cooper
Gear: Cigars. A sawed-off shotgun. A machete.
Background: An old prison guard who has become a hitman. Called "Little Caesar" for the fear he creates and power he has. Memorable hits of his include 3 mob bosses, a mayor, and an attempted hit on the president, which forced him to go underground for 10 years. Now, he is finally back, and hoping to get back into the business. Now, possibly as a boss.
Misc.:
Picture:

EDIT: Sorry for not being detailed, I was at school.

Name: Dino Ortolani
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Appearance: Your usual Italian mobster, greasy hair, a light beard, a cigarette almost always in his mouth. He has a few scars on his face from various fights and his nose is crooked due to being broken. He usually wears a duster in which he can hide larger weapons.
Vehicle: 1990 Oldsmobile Touring Sedan
Gear: Switchblade, Browning high powered handgun, sometimes a baseball bat, sometimes a shotgun.
Background: Dino's dad was a mobster, so it seemed like a no brainier to go into the mob. Dino doesn't do enough to become a high ranking mobster namely becuase he tends to trail off what his task is, and do what he wants.
Misc: *shrugs*
Picture:

"Okay, okay, you all heard the man," Sgt. Fisher began. "Stand in front of the sergeant you want to work for, and it doesn't require talking. If you can't remember what we do, get the hell out. And before anyone asks, no, you don't get to know who that was. If you ever see him again, he's probably about to kill you."

The eleven of you are in a bar that's closed for the night, and the only other person is the bartender, who is calmly wiping down the counters. None of the sergeants exhibit a sense of urgency at the moment, and even look like they would be alright without a new man for their district.

The Steve leaned back in his chair and sipped his drink, watching the other new members. He disliked to make a move without consideration, and preferred to sit and observe, before making his own decision.

His eyes swept the room, lingering on an attractive red-headed woman, before passing over an old man, a Russian, a German, and an Italian, as well as several everyday Americans. He began to consider the qualities of each, and hoped that they would be more than just a bunch of brainless mobsters

Viktor thought long and hard about who his boss would be. He knew nothing about running a racket,Prostitution, or drug dealing. However working with the Spetsnaz has given him a vast knowledge of weaponary. He walked forward and stood in front of Sergent Wright.

"You get tired of the Motherland, comrade?" Wright chuckled, sitting down at a nearby table with three chairs. "Name's Johnnie. Please, have a seat." Johnnie took a sip of his scotch. "My job is to make sure everyone in the Company has a piece, and a damn good one at that. You know what a damn good gun is?"

Dino grunted and walked toward Barton, he passed by Veronica and winked at her,

"Sup baby, nice legs you got there, what time they open?" Dino laughed as he stood in front of Sergent Barton "You gonna answer me or what? Or is it that you like it rough? Yeah, thats probably it, a tough girl like you needs to be bossed around eh?"

Barton cleared his throat to get Dino's attention.

"We'll let that shit slide for now, but if you say anything like that once you've both passed your tests, her sergeant will kill you," he warned. "Say and do what you want to anyone else in the city, but when it comes to other members of the Company, you'll get killed for something like that. Understood?" Barton pulled a small letter out of his jacket pocket and offered it to Dino.

"You take these orders, that means yes."

"Yeah whatevea, just havin a little fun, but shit if I get shot because of it, I will get all serious and shit." Dino grabbed the letter from the Sergent and grunted, "So what the fuck do we do now?"

Viktor was to distracted by the Itallian greasball to notice his seargent questioning him.

"Sir I was in an elite fighting force of the russian army. We were given the best equipment that the Russians had in order to complete our misson. But on occasions I have used other less capable weapons to complete my job. Basically what I'm saying is, There is no such thing as a good gun but rather a good man behind the gun."

"Read the letter, do what it says," Barton explained. "And you'd get shot, because we respect each other. A lot. Now go have some fun."

"I like that thinking, recruit," Wright commented. "We believe in good men and good guns, though, since it certainly can't hurt. We'll be going out to interrupt a deal from some of our competitors, but let's wait and see if anyone else joins us. Drink?"

"Sounds good chief!" Dino sarcastically saluted as he pulled out a cigarette, he began walking out of the door and hopped into his black Oldsmobile. He drove slightly above the speed limit and through red lights, when he arrived on 8th and Main there were the prostitutes, he slowly pulled up beside them,

"You ladies wanna have some fun? Maybe a little 2 on one?" Dino raised his eyebrows as he asked, the two woman agreed.

"So, I hope you have a big bed, wherever you're taking us," the younger one began, "because we can get pretty crazy." Looking at her, you realize she's either barely legal, or still jailbait, and her sister only looks a few years older. You also see some flashing blue lights behind you.

"Aw shit," the older one sighs, "I hope you're a smooth talker..."

Back at the bar...

Little Caesar took his time making a decision, unsure if he wanted to return to the violence he had left behind. After much internal conflict, he walked towards Sergeant Fisher. Keeping the police in line would require the diplomacy that Caesar needed so much.

"So... Anybody you need put back in line?" He said, menacingly.

The Steve ordered another drink from the barman, and continued to drink, considering his options. Drugs and whores were out, as both professions had a habit of attracting the simple minded, and eroding what was left of their minds. Guns did not seem suitable, as it presumably combined the fetching of weapons with the occasional shoot out. That left Police work and gambling, both of which were little more than simple intimidation. But gambling offered innumerable chances for cheating, and therefore would be a constant mental exercise...

Finishing his drink, The Steve got to his feet and moved slowly over to Vance, and offered the Sergeant a nod

sky14kemea:

OOC

Shapsters:

Well you have two choices

Vinny, who had been sitting in the corner until now, decided to make her choice.

Walking carefully in her stilletto heels, she leaned against the wall nearest to Sergeant Vance.

"Howdy sergeant." She said, with no trace of a southern accent whatsoever. She folder her arms and winked at him.

"Always," Fisher began. "One of those goody-two-shoes cops lives at this address, but he's been thinking about going dirty for us." He slid over a napkin that had 1284 6th 7D written on it in sharpie. "Give him a little nudge for us, and we'll compensate you for however you do it. Work may be short now, but once we start rocking the boat, plenty of state IA will come out, and that's when it gets fun."

"Wasn't expecting two of you, so this might be easy," Vance noted. "Got a tip there's a game of some Texas Hold 'Em going on in the basement of the Silver Wolf club, and in this town, that's one of our games. Go get us a cut, or the whole damn pie, will ya?" Glancing to his left, he winked back at the lovely lady against the wall.

"No problem." Vinny said, smiling. She casually flicked her scarf over her shoulder and walked out of the bar.

Outside, she put on a bright red helmet, and rode towards the Silver Wolf club on her motorbike.

Raoul decided that his charm and smooth-talking was probably more suited to keeping the police in line. He walked over to Fisher and introduced himself.

"Hi, I'm Raoul Shneider, at your service."

"Raoul, you can just call me Fisher, none of that Sergeant business," he started, nodding at Caesar to inform him that he could head out. "Your job is a little more straightforward. Head to the station and personally give the dispatch this letter." He handed Raoul a small, sealed envelope. "He'll give you some more instructions, and you go with the cops he assigns to you. No hurry, but don't make any other stops. Sound good?"

The Steve left the bar, and found that the woman had already departed. Sighing, he turned and headed down an alley, cutting through a large group of buildings, then through a carpark and across a housing estate, arriving in just under 10 minutes.

Seeing no sign his team mate, he headed inside, and was lucky to find a game a game about to begin. Sitting down at the table, he joined the game. After a few rounds, he feigned sudden realisation and asked the man to his left. "Hey, is the mob getting a share of this lot? Do they even know?"

"Aw for fucks- Well get the fuck in!" the two girls jumped into the back of the car and Dino sped off, he ran through a red light and sped down main.

"So....I guess it will just be us two. That's fine, a smaller team means can move faster and hit quicker." Said Viktor. He downed his Vodka in one sip and grabbed his jacket before standing up.

"Shall we go Sergent Wright?"

"Depends on what you mean by 'the mob,' man," the man beside The Steve muttered. "If you mean the Russians, then yeah, they're getting their cut. It's their bar, anyways. Now if you're talking about those new American assholes, then fuck 'em. If they want a cut, they can come get it."

-Continue the game, waiting for back-up
-Be a smartass and claim to be getting their cut
-Inquire about the Russians and/or the bar
-Other

"Driver of the black sedan, pull over!" the cop yelled over his car-mounted megaphone.

"How do they already have road blocks set up?" the younger girl says, pointing at the police cruisers ahead.

-Head down another street
-Pull over, either now or at the road block
-Other

"Yeah, let's move," Wright agreed as he got up and donned his overcoat. Walking outside, the two of you get into his black Escalade, with him at the wheel. "I already have my gear on, but there's a vest and some pouches on it in the seat behind you. Go ahead and put that on under your jacket while we drive." You look back and quickly realize the vest has ceramic plates in it, as well as pouches containing 8 assault rifle magazines.

-Put the gear on
-Don't put it on
-Ask about it
-Other