- Invitation Status
- Writing Levels
- Give-No-Fucks
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Genres
- Any.
[Time: 9:30 AM. Location: Rosedale.]
Rosedale had changed a lot in the past three years. Both in culture, and technology.
And like many other cities, each "section" of the city was classified under some slang term for the conditions and the people who lived there.
"Hub"
Literally what the name means, Hub is the "Crown" of Rosedale, as it holds 80% of the stores, offices and so on. But, it is also were two powerful gangs make their home.
[Sorry, couldn't find a pic for the second section.]
"Wonderland"
Basically, this is where the either extremely rich people or reality TV stars live in luxury, looking down upon anyone that didn't equal them in wealth, power or something else along those lines.
Finally, but not least.
"Slums" or as the city council calls it. "The Memorial District."
Whatever crime you can think of, it most likely occurs in the Slums. From drug trafficking, to petty gangs battling over what little turf or leftovers from the bigger gangs.
It also houses the old base of the gang that was once dominated Rosedale back in the day. Albeit rundown.
Now that the sightseeing is over, time to go over what gangs have taken over during the three years.
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Starting off with the glue that holds the bigger gangs together.
"The Organization."
Not the most creative name, but that doesn't mean that they are lacking in creativity. They just apply it in different fields. Such as torture, blackmail, spying. Basically, behind the scenes crime. Practically holding the city in their hands. All the while, manipulating the gangs under their control to follow their command to the letter.
"The White Mask Gang."
As their name suggests, almost every member is wearing a white mask of sorts. With lines on them that help signify rank. This gang is mainly responsible for the illegal transport of "goods" and the sort. Their calling card is graffiti art of their masks.
"The Inferno Gang."
What happens when you put a bunch of pyromaniacs into a gang? You get this. A gang that mainly consists of low-rate thugs and psychopaths that love to burn things to the ground. Their main job is to be the enforcers, and "collectors" of payments. And their calling card, is to leave a burning item in their wake. Be it a building, car....Or a person.
Finally, but not least.
"Lucky Four Left Clover Gang."
A gang centered around Irish traditions, and the lucky item that they are named after, but don't let the name and whatnot fool you. These guys are the information brokers. Whatever happens in the city, they will most likely know about it. And once they do, they report it to the higher ups.
Of coarse, their calling card is leaving a four left clover behind.
Beyond that, there are minor gangs in the slum areas.
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Ryder slowly rode up to the gate that lead to the Tanaka mansion.
Although, he didn't know this, as he was merely following the instructions left for him at the old Tanaka Gang hideout.
The place was in shambles. The carpet stained with unknown things, the paint flaking and the wood walls were rotting.
Yet, in the middle of it was a fresh table with a note and cassette tape labeled. "Play me."
Putting it into his slightly aged tape recorder, a heavily modified voice spoke. "Long time no see, Ryder. You may not know me, due to the voice changer. But I know you. And although the former plan was to cut all ties, I plan to disobey that plan. Meet me at this address written on the note on the table." The tape ended, and left Ryder confused as ever, who was this individual? First, they call him, asking him to return to the old hideout, and now asking him to meet them at a random address? All of this was too odd. Yet, Ryder has this feeling that he couldn't simply ignore this.
So, he followed the directions on the note, all the way to the mansion that stood before him. Parking his motorcycle. He slowly walked up the steps, taking off his motorcycle helmet. He rung the doorbell, and as he waited for whoever to answer, he looked at his reflection in a nearby window.
He had changed over the years, the buzz cut he once adorned, had now grown into a slightly short hair. And he was growing a goatee. The burn scars on the entire right side of his face were still there, but they were faded to a degree. Almost to the point, that if he wore makeup, it look as if he didn't even have scars to begin with.
Eventually, he turned his attention back to the door.