Bay Dogs: A Criminal RP - Games

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MDXsqDO5n3s[/media] [img]http://i.imgur.com/nQjeP8W.jpg[/img] Just when you thought you didn't get another chance at life. Now you're working with the criminals you've relished since the good old days. Welcome to Sanskirt, your personal haven. Your wretched hive to serve your own damn needs. Here you may think it's another corrupt city for the taking. It isn't. Sanskirt is its own nation of groups running their own businesses. Thailand is still a populated area and there's a lot of organizations that are willing to compete in order to gain control. Triads, Sandy Cops, Russian Mafias around the corner. Since the 60s has it been remade into some corrupt paradise. It's 1984 now. The golden age has come. People are willing to do everything to get made and find their own riches. Reasonable goals for assholes without a dream. In the city you can practically do whatever you want and roam around as much as you like. But don't expect people to look the other away and think you're tough shit. In Sanskirt there's always work going around and if you ever need a quick buck stop by at some reliable dealer and get hooked up with a job. It might take awhile before you get somewhere but it'll be worth it when you got a yacht all to yourself. But be weary, sometimes even your own personal friends can be your personal enemies one day. Greed is a bitch. That's why Oceania Bay Trade is always looking for new talent to fill the empty slots. In this city you need friends and allies to get around and help you. Or you can go lone wolf, your call. In Oceania Bay, when midnight dawns we hunt and get paid. We're Bay Dogs. Do you understand? Good. Now pack up your bags and shift out. Good luck. You need it. [b]General Info[/b] Unlike Spaceship Crew RP this is a criminal RP where you are your own man. You work for Oceania Bay(or not), a cargo company in reality is a mercenary group who seeks out bounties for money. Contracts or arcs may come in at any particular time to encourage activity. If there aren't any arcs occuring then you can request an arc in the thread and we'll think about it. In Sanskirt you are able to freeroam anywhere and do whatever you like. So long as you don't piss off local syndicates you should be fine. There are no roles involved. And remember: [highlight]NEVER TOO LATE TO JOIN![/highlight] [b]Combat Info[/b] Unlike Spaceship Crew RP, you're just as vulnerable as enemies. You must act against an enemy by firing or attacking and I will roll for you. 1-4 is bad and depending on your intended landing on a body part it could completely backfire and kill you. 5 does nothing while 6-10 deals damage to the intended target. If combat gets too intense then you may flee to safety and call others for help. [b]Template[/b] [quote] Name: Appearance(optional): Date Of Birth: Preferred Weapons: Special Skills: Profession: Nationality: Biography: [/quote] If this is your first time playing then have an example: [quote] Name: Max Payne Appearance(optional): [t]http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/14/146991/2838744-max_payne_3__hoboken_blues_by_zurdom-d54amqc.jpg[/t] Date Of Birth: XX, XX, 1959 Preferred Weapons: Berettas Special Skills: Dual Wielding Profession: Undercover Cop Nationality: Caucasian-American Biography: Max Payne is an NYPD Cop and Agent for the DEA. Assigned by a Foreign Task Force in a city named Sanskirt. With a lot of money in check he knew this wasn't going to be an easy job working undercover as a criminal. The only thing Max has at his disposal is his exceptional skill and hard luck. [/quote] [b]General Rules[/b] 1. Play nice 2. PvP is allowed. Talk to each other on Steam about that. 3. Be active or you may be declared an NPC. 4. Don't control anyone's character without permission. 5. You should probably use brackets like "[ ]" or "{ }" so people will know you're speaking OOC. 6. Try not to metagame. If you have any questions, want to request a major arc, or need help then don't hesitate to call me through Steam. Also if this is your first time playing these RPs then don't be afraid to say help to those that are familiar with them. It's suggested that you at least look up Thailand wiki page to get the basic info. [b]Current Players[/b]: Mikhail Menshov - Radley Frank - Kilerabv Viktor "Sokol" Novakov - Viper123_SWE Aleksy Kijek - Deathgrunt Kevin Stadler([highlight]DECEASED[/highlight]), Ari Stadler - Svinnik George Barrett - SniperComZero Rodney "Biggie D" McGregor - NightmareX91 Maj. Svetlana Voronov - Infab Johnny Hobs - Sheepayy Mikhail 'Misha' - Jintei Julia 'Scar' Curie - Otterman Slade Hall - dale_uk_scout David Jones Miller - NitronikALT

Let's get this show on the road. Name: Mikhail Menshov Appearance(optional): [t]https://i.gyazo.com/16965f19a31477550fd15f89fad5796e.png[/T] Date Of Birth: 8th of September 1952 Preferred Weapons: Ak-74su, Stechkin APB Special Skills: mechanical know-how. Profession: Driver and gun for hire Nationality: Ukrainian Biography: Former car mechanic, VDV paratrooper turned mercenary. After being wounded in Afghanistan he grew discontent with the soviet army and decided to put his combat training to use elsewhere. After getting in contact with the russian mafia he traveled to Sanskirt to reinforce their operations. He has been working odd jobs for the Russian mafia since 1983.

Joining in. Name:Frank Appearance: [T]http://images2.fanpop.com/image/photos/14000000/Punisher-frank-castle-the-punisher-14007773-550-838.jpg[/T] Date of birth: 13th of February, 1950 Preferred weapons:M-16, dual M1911s Special skills:Expert marksman Profession: Former Marine, Vietnam vet. Nationality:Italian-American Biography:A 4 year Vietnam veteran, Frank thought he go his life back in order once he came back home. It all came crashing down when his family was killed in a mob hit. A year spend methodically fighting organized crime in New York, proved that he could never go back to his former life. With the mob looking for him to exact revenge, he moved his operations to Sanskirt in order to dodge them and start anew as a gun for hire.

Name: Viktor "Sokol" Novakov Appearance: [t]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f6/0c/37/f60c3723a0cfdd573298de129f6ffbe0.jpg[/t] Date Of Birth: 5th of March,1957 (27) Preferred Weapons: Modified VSS Vintorez Special Skills: Stealth Profession: Ex-Spetsnaz Mercenary Nationality: Russian Biography: Countless succesfull missions. Confirmed kills in the dozens. Commended by at least three generals. Yet, it's still not enough. As a kid, Viktor wanted to see the world. As a part of the elite Spetsnaz his wish came true. Yet, it's still not enough. Now he is a freelancing mercenary looking for the next adventure, the next thing to cross off from his list. Equipped with a prototype VSS Vintorez, Viktor Novakov has gained a reputation for being highly effective picking off targets from a distance as he is up close. While not much of a talker, Viktor sees and hears everything, if not more.

Three so far, I need four more.

Might as well keep the Slav train going. Name: Aleksy Kijek Appearance(optional): [img_thumb]http://images.teamtalk.com/08/10/800x600/Artur-Boruc_1346250.jpg[/img_thumb] Date Of Birth: 27th of December, 1961 ( 22 ) Preferred Weapons: FB P-64, Modified FB PM-63 RAK, Grenades and other high powered munitions. Special Skills: Bartering, Handy with explosives Profession: Former Infantry, Gun for hire Nationality: Caucasian-Polish Biography: Once an cockily but proud soldier serving within the polish army, Aleksy threw himself into an life of vice after an accident that led to destruction of an occupied, friendly tank and over an dozen dead. Using everything he and thanks to his already established black market connections, Aleksy bargained to the mafia for to be sent off away from poland where his prosecutors would never find him. Now in depths of the criminal underworld of Sanskirt. With nothing but his guns and the clothes on his back with an near empty drinking flask of Krupnik in the pocket of his tracksuit. Aleksy nevertheless remains optimistic about the situation he has found himself in.

Name: Kevin Stadler Appearance(optional): [IMG]https://i.imgur.com/Fo1kcZ9.jpg[/IMG] Date Of Birth: March 17, 1944 Preferred Weapons: Glock, Saturday Night Specials Special Skills: Charismatic, makes a mean cup of coffee Profession: Ex-programmer Nationality: American Biography: Kevin was shipped out to Vietnam but never saw combat as he worked in logistics. The only danger that Kevin faced regularly were papercuts and minor stress. During a pee break in the middle of the night, he accidentally wandered away from the camps. He was forced to survive by himself for a few days before he crossed the border in Cambodia and caused an international incident. After being called a war hero, he was flown back to the USA and studied computer science with the aid of the GI bill. He got married to the love of his life, Laura Bentley, soon after that he was hired by IBM. In 1983, IBM fired Kevin and the stress of that caused his marriage to fall apart. Kevin decided to have a do over in a different country and moved to Sanskirt.

I need two more by Saturday.

commies are worst gang, you are the gang idiot you are the gang smell Name: George Barrett Appearance(optional): [t]https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b1/US_Infantry_M16_Vietnam.jpg[/t] Date Of Birth: October 2, 1952 (33 yo) Preferred Weapons: M60, M1911A1 Special Skills: Can go [i]fucking berserk[/i], good distraction. Profession: Ex-US Marine, 'Nam Vet Nationality: American Biography: George served two full tours in the Vietnam War, and gradually gained a taste for blood and with his youth in Cold War America, a severe distrust possibly even hate, of commies. When the war ended, his bloodlust was no longer being satisfied, so "left" the army. Or, more accurately, deserted in an incident leaving a number of police dead before fleeing to Sanskirt. With naught but his bag and his wits, things should be more exciting here.

Haven't done forum RP in a while, this sounds like it could be a lot of fun. Since everyone's going with firearms, I think I'll change things up a little. Name: Rodney "Biggie D" McGregor Appearance(optional): [t]http://orig12.deviantart.net/5833/f/2014/225/5/b/me__mc_ride__stefan_burnett__by_mcrideniggerdicks-d7v2fur.jpg[/t] Date Of Birth: July 21, 1952 Preferred Weapons: Brass knuckle dusters, machete Special Skills: Thick skin, melee weapon proficiency Profession: Ex-boxer, ex-programmer...? Nationality: African American Biography: Rodney lived a rough childhood. He was constantly beat by his parents for even the smallest of shit that he didn't even do. He never got a proper education, as his neighbourhood was still incredibly racist towards Rodney's family. At some point, he started getting into boxing, and by the time he was 18 he started his career as a professional boxer under the title "Biggie D". Rodney thought his life was going swell, doing what he wanted to do and making an honest living, up until one fight. He seriously fucked up his opponent severely by beating them until they were barely human in a fit of rage. This got him arrested and banned permanently from boxing. Years later, he was released and he set out on a search for a new job. Of course, this was difficult due to his lack of an education, and the fact that he was known for permanently crippling another boxer. However, in his desperate grasp to just get any job, he somehow found himself working for IBM as a programmer. They must have been desperate, as he has literally no knowledge of programming whatsoever. He couldn't even figure out how to make a simple "Hello world!" program. The others all ridiculed him for this, and he fucking hated it. This is where he met his nemesis. A pesky, fat white boy who constantly pissed Rodney off. One day in 1983, Rodney brought in some donuts for his lunch, and at one point he had to leave his office to take a shit. When he got back to his office, he found his office nemesis wiggling his fingers and helping himself to Rodney's donuts. When Rodney inquired what the fuck he was doing, his nemesis panicked and tried to punch Rodney in his stomach. Rodney was unaffected by this pitiful punch, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out a brass knuckle. It wasn't long before his nemesis found himself being beaten to a bloody pulp. This got him fired from IBM, and he decided to quit trying to play nice. He journeyed out to Sanskirt to start life anew.

Hold on, writing my character.

First time I've ever done anything RP related on here. Name: Maj. Svetlana Voronov Nicknames: 'The Sickle', 'Koschei' Appearance: [IMG]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/51118976/Extra/Soviet-Sniper.jpg[/IMG] Date of Birth: Feb. 5th, 1920 Preferred Weapons: AK/RPK series, SVD Dragunov, PB/6P9 or Makarov PM, vz. 61 Skorpion, hand scythe, trench knife, her hands. Special Skills: Dead Eye, Hand-To-Hand Specialist Profession: KGB Operative Nationality: Russian Biography: Svetlana Voronov, originally born Catherine Volkov, was born just outside of Tsaritsyn. Her parents purged during the Communist takeover, she was raised by a man named Issak Voronov, an iron worker who had joined the Communist cause. She was raised under his strict supervision, conforming to the Communist ideals as Isaak drilled (and beat) them into her. Eventually, World War 2 rolled around, and she was placed under her father as he served as a political officer during the war. As his right hand, she enforced his will, usually by gunpoint. Talented with a rifle, she was used as a Sniper as the war went on, until eventually she and her father joined in on the Siege of Berlin in 1945. After the war, her father was offered a position in the KGB. He brought Voronov with him, and soon she was serving her country overseas as a KGB operative. Most of her time was spent in South America and Cuba during the 1950s through the late 1960s, assisting in communist revolutions and assassinating high value targets and political enemies of the Soviet Union and its allies. In the early 1970s, she was sent to Vietnam to assist the North Vietnamese against the US and the South Vietnamese. She stayed until 1975, when she was called back to Russia after the fall of Saigon. She remained there, having not been sent to take part in the Soviet-Afghan War that began in 1979. Now, she's been finally issued a new mission. Thailand, Sanskirt. Currently a target for assassination has been lurking about the country for quite a while, though Mother Russia can't figure out where he is exactly. Voronov has been sent to the country to scout around and pick up the trail by working as a member of a local group. That group being Oceania Bay Trade. Cover story? A simple merc from Russia. Ditched the army during Afghanistan. Easy.

Name: Johnny Hobbs Appearance(optional): [t]https://my.mixtape.moe/sjcvod.jpg[/t] Date Of Birth: Apr 11 1950 (33) Preferred Weapons: AKSU-74 Special Skills: Very agile Profession: Ex-track runner Nationality: English Biography: Johnny, a fellow from not a nice neighbourhood, the only thing keeping him focused was his passion for running. After the closure of the track and the death of his family for unknown reasons, Johnny left hopeless, fell into corruption, he did what he could to survive, from stealing to murder, his agility kept him alive. After hearing about Sanskirt, he decided to move to earn some serious money and make his own paradise.

Starting later in the afternoon.

Name: Mikhail 'Misha' (last name unknown) Appearance(optional):[t]http://static.giantbomb.com/uploads/original/9/93538/2059444-the_heavy_weapons_guy.jpg[/t] Date Of Birth: 5th March 1938 (46 years old) Preferred Weapons: Heavy automatic weapons Special Skills: Tank, Heavy (able to withstand heavy punishments) Profession: Mercenary Nationality: Russian Biography: Much of his childhood was spent in a Siberian gulag as a result of his father being deemed a 'counter-revolutionary' by the Politburo. At the age of 16, during a riot, he and his surviving family all fled the gulag while the guards were distracted. As the only male left, it was his responsibility to provide and protect his family and it was in the harsh Siberian winter and the hostile wildlifes that had hardened him to face all conditions without a sweat. At the age of 34, he managed to bring his family out of the Soviet Union by a contract with OBT who promised him work and permanent security for him and his family. Without hesitation, he signed the paper and never looked back. Recently, he was sent to Sanskirt to "monitor upcoming activities" for the company.

The shining disrespectful sun gave way to a scorching temperature no one would defy. A slow black sedan rolled up across the street, sunshaded. The side door opened, a man in an unbuttoned tan suit put his cigarette out by throwing it onto the ground and stubbed it. The man walked forward into a small one story building and entered. The bell jangled as soon as the man came in. The broker widened his eyes and wiped his forehead. The man sighed and tapped his foot. "Sunan. How you been? Sunan hesitated to come up with an explanation and bit his lip. "Good. Good." He responded. "Business?" "Good." He said once more. The man raised an eyebrow and stared at Sunan, turning around to see the decor and antiques. "You know. Word gets around, Sunan, I've been busy over these weeks but sometimes even I watch over my property." The man turned his head towards Sunan. Sunan rubbed both sides of his temples. "What's this about?" Sunan spoke out, finally. The man gave a loud whistle to the door still parted, two men in casual clothes moved forward and waited patiently. The man shook his head and reached across his underarm to reveal a HP Browning. He unholstered his gun and aimed it at Sunan's head. "Where is it?" "What? Where what?!" Sunan immediately shook his entire body and raised his hands in the air allowing no firearms shown at his sides or hands. The man tilted his head and took a step back. "You know what. Benitos got you covered don't they?" The man spat out before gesturing two of his men to invade the back. The daring hired guns marched straight towards the hallway, guns in hands. The man narrowed his eyes towards Sunan and pushed him onto the ground, face planting him on his own floors. "Come with me." The man ordered as he pulled up Sunan, leaving a nasty blood wound from the nostrils. The two men aimed towards the back door and nodded to their boss. The man eyed on Sunan and pointed his gun at the backdoor. Sunan nodded as quickly as possible. One of the men kicked the door open and revealed three men with their back turns. The other three men in street jackets turned at the sound of loud noise and pulled out their weapons. "[Chi cazzo?!]" One of them screamed out as a firefight ensued the entire pawn shop. ... A small boat parted long ago as it overlooked the City of Sanskirt, the paradise of corruption and anarchy. A young adult in his twenties gazed the view, holding a duffle bag. "Alright, there it is. Our key place." He said as he paced along the rail and snorted. "Once we get to the docks, we're supposed to find our hideout and set up shop. Welcome to Sanskirt." He said.

Frank breathed in the ocean air as the boat entered the dock. It smelled just like he would imagine it. A mixture of stale, rotten and like someone had just evacuated the content of their stomach. Yeah, this place would do just fine. With his duffle bag in hand, he moved closer to the rail to wait for the boat to dock. He looked at the kid pacing around. "Do we know where it is, or are we supposed to guess?"

"Drinking establishment, two stories. Around the corner." He said overlooking the docks as it felt a hard bump on the front of the boat. The man placed his hands in his pockets and walked over the wooden area. "Spade's the boss, but I act as his right hand man. We set up this place to meet other associates and expand business from Boldwood, Miami. The work finds us and we do what we do best." The guy said.

Viktor remained quiet as he observed others nearby. He decided to stick close to Frank who looked like he could handle himself. All of his gear was packed down into a large backpack and at first glance he'd appear to be a simple backpacker or tourist. Should anyone inspect him further however, his silenced Makarov PM would prove to be a strong statement. He looked around and noted several others on the boat which looked to be eastern european. He grunted. Maybe he wouldn't be entirely alone in this new exciting country.

Rodney leans on the railing and looks towards the harbour. "Drinking establishment, huh? Free booze 'n' shit? Or we still gotta work our asses off to pay for that shit?"

Voronov glanced over, just under the brim of her military cap, at Viktor. Studying him. Former military, judging from how he carries himself. Eastern European. Backpack, probably loaded with gear. She smiled slightly, before slipping a cigar into her mouth. Maybe she could mask the stench in the air with a nice Cuban. While patting around her pockets for a lighter, she looked around at the others. Watching each of them. Studying them, just like Viktor. The ones she was mainly focused on were the Americans. Her previous engagements with Americans weren't too friendly, so she had reason to be cautious. Should anything go down, that's when her PB would come into play, tucked inside her jacket's inner pocket next to its silencer. She finally found her lighter, and lit the cigar with it before slipping it back into her pocket. She picked her bags up from the deck of the boat next to her, then slung them over her shoulder. "Probably going to have to pay for it. It is a business after all, comrade." she said, looking over at Rodney.

George took a deep breath while lighting a cigarette. "Smells like home. Or well, 'Nam." Lighting his cigarette, George settled against the railing in his dirty fatigues, and started smoking. His bag looks like it was packed in a hurry, judging by the dome-shaped bulge and what looked like a rifle stock sticking out. "A 'Drinking Establishment' is our hideout? You mean some sleazy fuckin' bar in a shitty part of town? Sounds like the perfect place for a hideout." George slipped the cigarette out of his mouth and looked over his attire. Maybe his first priority here should be fashionable.

Kevin walks out of the cabin of the boat with a few cups of coffee. He hands them out to everyone except to Rodney and grins. "So do we have a job yet?"

Rodney notices that Kevin purposefully missed his coffee. "Where the fuck's my coffee, vanilla ice cream? Not making a black man a coffee 'cos he's black? That's fucked, man."

The guy nodded , pulling a smirk. "Pretty much. Drink all you like so long as you come jogging when someone calls us to do their dirty work." He rubbed his nose as they settled beside the docks. The guy got off the boat and stretched his arms. "Right, this way." Then the man turned. "Luke Bloom." He pointed to himself "We don't have any jobs yet by the way." Luke turned and faced the establishment around the corner. Two stories tall just as he said. No signs or anything. Just a plain ol building.

Kevin smiled at Rodney. "I didn't make you coffee because you beat me up and I lost my position at IBM for being in a fight. My wife left me after that. It's not anything racial, it's just because you're a dick."

Voronov steps over as she walked towards the front of the boat, and offers him her cup. "I prefer to make my own drinks, so here." she said, motioning for Rodney to take it.

Viktor glanced at Rodney and Kevin as he got off the boat. He took a look around to scan the area. Old habits. After memorizing everything of importance he decided to follow the recruiter, Luke Bloom.

Rodney scowls at Kevin. "Cracker, you were fuckin' feasting on my fuckin' lunch. I caught you wrigglin' yo' fucking fingers and shoving one donut after another down that fucking shithole of yours." He turns to Voronov as he makes his way off the boat, gladly accepting the coffee. "'least you respect a nigga's rights to drink coffee."

George looked at Kevin, "What are you even doing here anyways? You look like the fat kid on the bus who gets taken outta boot camp after a week?" He then proceeded to step off the boat, looking at his surroundings, and taking another drag of his cigarette.