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Johnny last won the day on October 14 2021

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  1. I lay back sometimes... Thinking, remembering, little tidbits of my youth. Obviously I was far too young to remember everything. But if it was quiet enough... vivid, iridescent images of my mother comes too view. The smoky candescent lighting illuminating her sun touched soft skin. The smile on her face when her gaze met mine. The dimples on her cheeks as she displayed her perfectly placed white teeth. It was like visions of an angel being projected onto the back of my eyelids. It was my peace... Before darkness blocked it all out. I remember, walking through grass. Little feet wearing converse Chuck Taylors. A timeless shoe. Black with the white toe. Streaks of green on the surface from me dragging them through the freshly trimmed grass. I must've been three or four here. Old enough to play and laugh but young enough to be fearless. I remember mother frantically rushing across the yard, placing her hands under my arms and lifting me up off the ladder I was climbing. Clearly too tall for me to be on but all the kids were doing it. I was just following. The curse of all this? I remember being strapped into my seat in the car. It was a hot day. I still don't know where we were going. I was tired, I had just woken up, dressed and probably fussy. My dad was driving. I remember the sun so bright, blinding even. It had to be early morning. I guess I couldn't take it because it was making me even more upset. Dad was complaining about me. Mom was defending me "He's just tired, in a few, he'll fall asleep. It's a car ride, they always put him to sleep". It didn't. "Pull over" my mom says. The car slows and she opens the door. The trunk opens and within seconds tires screech and our car goes flying. Tumbling to a stop on its roof. I never seen mother again. My peace... was gone. Several years passed and my father did his best to raise me. He fed me, he sent me to school, he bought my clothes. Once I was in school he picked up a new job. Paid a little better, he was able to afford a sitter for me. More and more he worked to where some days the sun was down before I would go home. I would wake up sometimes with my cheek on his shoulder, or as he's placing me in the car, but always dark. I would make macaroni pictures at school for my dad, but never be able to present them to him. We would have to describe our parents at school and I would make up stories about how my dad was a fireman, or a cop, or a secret agent. Something. I think about that now and I know those kids knew I was full of shit... One day, my father came and picked me up from the sitter. A woman was in the car. "Johnny, I have someone I want you to meet." He places his hand between my shoulder blades as he guides me to the car. The woman, dark haired, red lipstick, dark eyes. Nothing like mom. Mom's were green, glinting, like emeralds. The woman smirks at me and turns away... "She and her little boy will be staying with us, you'll have a friend around..." I remember first meeting Marco. Dark hair, slicked to the side. Button up shirt and shorts. About my age. His skin was darker than mine. He spoke properly, he wasn't from here. We spoke a certain way in the city. A lot of slang. This kid used none of them. "Hi, do you want to play? I have Micro Machines" I told the kid. "Sure!" he replied. We ran off, made a small track in the dirt and began to play. Time and time again we would spend all day playing until the sun went down. And when we'd come home, it was time to wash up for bed. I was always sent to bed about 15 minutes past eight. Marco however, would stay up watching a little television before heading to bed. It was how he and his mom would bond I guess. My dad? He never wanted to "bond" He would tell me, "just go to bed, it's not a big deal" Marco and I became great friends. I actually had a brother. We'd walk to school together, we'd ride bikes together. We were inseparable... Up until high school. At orientation day, we received our schedules. Marco and I got 2 classes together. math and P.E. I was excited. It wasn't ideal for what I would have liked but at least he was there. Marco had met some guys in school. Shay and Eric. Shay was a class clown. Always lived to make people laugh. He was well liked. Shay and Eric lived in the same apartment complex, so I could see where they knew each other but they were totally different. Eric was a fire cracker. Waiting to blow and with a short fuse at that. I remember one time while hanging out at the apartment complex. Eric snuck up behind me, and started striking my back with is balled up fists. When I turned around to see who it was, he laughs and said "I was dared too" before running off. days later, I found out it was Marco who put him up to it. The fucker... Over the course of the year, I started seeing less and less of Marco. He Shay and Eric would hang out all the time. I would tag along but was always ignored. I was the fourth wheel, if that's even a thing. We would take the city bus to school sometimes. I would get off and school and they would stay on. Before the bell would ring I would see them get back to the school. This was weird, where would they go for half an hour. I'd ask and they wouldn't tell me. They just give me candy or school supplies and tell me to shut up. One day I wised up. When I got off the bus like normal, I waited till the bus drove away and I started walking in the direction they were going. I seen them coming out of a grocery store running. I hid behind a soda machine so they wouldn't see me. As they walked towards the school they took a bike path. Were Eric pulled out a small box and began taking the plastic off. Cigarettes, he was unwrapping the foil and tossing it to the ground. They walked the path, each with a cigarette in their mouth, The bike lane would cross a field behind some houses. Trees lined the fence line between the houses and the bike path. At one point they come across an old couch someone had left behind. This is the area we all lived in. People were too broke to dispose of their old stuff that you would find things in remote locations. Shoes, dressers, old clothing, anything really. Marco and the guys stopped at the couch and finished their cigarettes. Eric tossed his onto the could and they all laughed. Eric then decided it would be wise to flick lit matches at it. As smoke began to rise from the tattered old couch, Shay and Eric ran off. Marco stayed behind, surprisingly getting closer to the now small flame building. As the cushion began spreading he stands back and watches it, mesmerized. It fascinated him. After a few seconds he snaps out of it, looks around and runs off. I followed behinds. By the time I passed the couch, half of it was on fire and the neighborhood was alert. I hear shouting in the distance from people peering over their fence to see what was causing the smoke. By the time I made it to school I see the firetrucks racing to the fire. The lights flashing and sirens blaring. I get to class right as the bell rings. Winded I take my seat. It's math class. Marco was already there. He noticed my heavy breathing. He knew... About 30 minutes later, Fire men had come to the school. One of the neighbors had described a student running from the fire. "We are looking for a boy wearing a black shirt with blue jeans. Marco was wearing khakis and a button up shirt. Eric and Shay wore similar. I... I wore a black shirt and blue jeans... Why were they looking for me? I was removed from the classroom. I remember looking at Marco as I'm being walked out of class. Our eyes met. I knew he seen me, I knew his friends had done it. And what does he do... He looked away. I was charged with arson and juvenile mischief and sent to Juvenile Hall. I did a year in Juvenile hall. By the time I got out I was 15 years old. My father had lost his job and stayed at home most of the day. He picked up a drinking habit, probably led on by depression. He would randomly fall asleep on the couch. Beer cans on the side table next to him. Ashtray on the coffee table in front of him full of butts. He had let himself go, hadn't washed for a while, clothing was tattered and dirty. He didn't care, he didn't acknowledge me or anyone in the house. And when he would it would only lead to arguing and more drinking. Marco, would hide in his room playing video games. I of course would take care of what I could. I was always forced to do chores, Marco would get off free. He was my dad so I had to pick up after him. Empty beer cans, empty the ashtray pick up the area around him. I'd sigh, bite my tongue and do what was needed. One night, my father did himself over. He drank himself to passing out. Worse, he fell asleep while holding his lit cigarette. We all were asleep then. Marco and my room faced the back while Marco's mom slept in the front room. My father slept where he lay. Couch, chair, floor, wherever. This day my father had fallen asleep on the couch. He drops the cigarette onto the carpet where it began to spread. Alcohol on the floor had acted as an accelerant and the fire quickly spread throughout the living room. The smell of burning fabrics and smoke began filling the house. I woke up coughing. The shouting from Marco's mom echoed through the house. My eyes hadn't even fully focused yet and I had to find out what was going on and how to react. I can hear my father start to scream. I dove for the door and flung it open. The smoke rolled in, completely covering the acoustic ceiling. I run down the hall to the doorway that leads to the living room. There I stand, terror on my face as my father burns alive. His screams pierce through the roar of the flames. My step mother's screams were muffled in comparison. As he started to pass, her's became much clearer. I could make out bits and pieces of what she was shouting. "Fucking pyro" what? I lifted my gaze from where my father lay. Across the room in the adjacent doorway I could see her standing. The fierceness in her eyes as they were locked on to me. She screamed so hard that her neck would concave in on itself. "You fucking pyro! You did this!" Did she think it was my fault? Was it a mistake to see what was going on? I didn't understand why she was blaming me. I could say the same about her. I felt a tug on my arm. "Let's go Johnny, let's get out of here" Marco, was pulling me away towards his room. We raced toward the open window where the smoke was already billowing out. We leapt out the window landing on the grass behind the house. "Did you see it Marco, it was like it was alive" I remained silent. His comment haunted me. How could he say that? It's as if around fire he lost all sense of emotion. It hypnotized him. Once we reached the front we gathered together with his mom. Immediately she kneeled to see if he was ok. He blankly stared at the house as she rubbed her hands on his face. My vision became blurry and tears covered my vision. Just as they started streaming down my face the light and sirens arrived. Firemen started pouring out of their big red trucks. We moved out of the way, except Marco. He stood there watching in awe. As they began to douse the flames an officer began asking questions. I overheard my step mother mention me. Again, confused. What did I have to do with this? I just lost my father and people are acting as if I had something to do with it. As the officer approached me I hear "Go ahead and put your hands behind your back son, we need to go to the station for questioning". I turn to Marco, "Tell him I didn't do it, MARCO! TELL HIM!" Till this day. I don't even know if he heard me... He just stayed there. Staring. That day changed me. The only thing I had remotely close to any kind of support was gone. I took the hit for the couch, Marco looked away. Now I'm taking the hit for the house, and Marco, my brother, my best friend, stood there... That day I lost my family. C'est ma vie Fuck it...
  2. Life hasn't been a breeze for Leon. He walked away with nothing, He couldn't stop by the bank before his departure as if he was under investigation certainly they would be watching his bank activity. This meant he had no place to live. He had what he left with. 2500 dollars, He had to think hard on his next goals. He was homeless in a huge city after all. He needed shelter and a place that would hire him without much information required. As he walked aimlessly in an industrial area of town he found himself on Shambles where he located some abandoned containers. Leon walked inside of one. "A little dusty but with a little love and a lot of elbow grease... and maybe a broom I'm sure I can make due." The loose dirt from the dirt lot outside was caked on the inside of the container. Random graffiti smeared the inside walls. Some in spray can, some in permanent marker. Leon found it funny how you could tell which we veteran taggers and which were... not so much. The footprints in the dirt showed a print of those similar to Nike Cortez and Converse Chuck Taylors. "This was definitely visited by a local gang. Why on earth would ANYONE wear Nike Cortez anymore unless they were gang affiliated" He walked around the lot picking up broken pieces of pallets and wooden spools. Night was coming and he needed to start a fire to keep warm. He looked up at the sky "Great... looks like rain is coming in too, I hope there are no leaks" There was... The following day he found a map of the city and located the Department of Motor Vehicles. The test were gruesome at first but ultimately he surpassed that obstacle. Finally getting enough answers correct to get his license. He found a job with a big box company known as Post Op. There he delivered packages for customers too busy with life to go out in public to help the city's boasting economy. Life in the city must be really rough if you felt the need to order online. Or maybe it was just convenience. Either way it wasn't his business to know or judge people by the amount of package they received. As long as someone was paying his wages he didn't care. During one of his deliveries he spots a car wrecked into the center divider on the Los Santos Freeway. He gazed closely as he drove past it. He had just drove in the opposite direction and the vehicle wasn't there so this had JUST happened. As he passes the vehicle he spots him. The vehicles driver has flown out of the vehicle and lay there motionless on the floor. Leon reverses his truck and blocks the lane before turning on his hazards. He began assisting. He leans into the man tilting his head to his mouth to see if he was breathing. He was! faintly but it was there. He begins asking the gentlemen questions "What's your name bud? Do you know where you are? C'mon man, give me something." As he's sitting there waiting for a response he hears a vehicle pulling up. His body tightens as he is still in the middle of the highway and who knows if this driver is even aware enough to notice a big brown truck blocking the flow of traffic. Could this be his time too? As he jumps to his feet and leans back peaking around the truck he sees a pleasant sight. The flash of blue and red lights. Not so pleasant was the annoying screech of the sirens. You know, the one that sounds like a dying goose clearing it's throat. The vehicle pulls over and a spiky hairs guy opens the door. My first thought was surprise to see a city officer so far out of the city but whatever. I was trying to help a person in need and now I had access to more help through this officer. I explained the situation briefly and the officer and I were off to the hospital. The gentlemen in the backseat clinging on to dear life. Unsure of his injuries, we rushed. As the trees begin to blur we speed down the highway. My concern for the fella in the back briefly forgotten due to the distraction of the vehicles interior. My only question... "When did the police begin using Subaru?" The officer chuckles but never answered the question. We talked for a few minutes as the ride didn't seem long. Peeking over at his speedometer we were close to 200 at one point. Told the officer I had just landed and was working on saving up for a car of my own. He felt generous or I made a good impression because that officer rewarded me for my help. I had 15, 000 to deposit. That will never be forgotten. After several days of working for Post Op he received his first paycheck. He peels back the sticky strip that seals his envelope. He hated those. Maybe the few times he has given himself a paper cut trying to open one. Maybe the memory of the foul taste it leaves in your mouth when you lick it before you seal it. Only god knows how many he has licked in his life running a side hustle of his own. The good life, the better life. Tearing the last few centimeters he begins to pull out his check. Unfolding it carefully to make sure he doesn't damage the check in anyway causing the bank to refuse it. His eyes open in disbelief..."What is this?" He thought to himself. "A few days worth of work and I barely broke enough to supply my thirst and hunger for the next week?" Standing alone in the parking lot at Post Op frustrated. He turns to the building looking at the camera. He shakes his head as he lowers his gaze to the ground. Thinking momentarily. "This is not going to do, How does anyone live off this?" Raising his chin back to the camera, He folds his measly paycheck into his back pocket. He smirks before raising both his hands flipping the camera the bird. "Thanks for the fucking peanuts!" He yells out loud. He opened the door to a car he had rented. The door squeaked slightly as he opened the door. You could tell this car has had quite a bit of abuse. From the squeaky door to the dent on the fender. They way it swerves to the right because the alignment was so bad. The previous renters probably run into a few curbs themselves and never reported it. And of course the rental company could careless to fix it. Let alone probably didn't even bother to inspect it as the stains on the back seat were clearly within view and hadn't even attempted to be cleaned. The musty smell of stale smoke, no little pine tree would ever get out. This was a party car and worse... it was a Prius... yuck! Leon makes his way back down The Great Ocean highway into the city. "Lets see if the DMV has other job listings." Pulling up, the line of people waiting to be seen was typical. He approaches the counter accessing the kiosk. "Truck driver huh? That's got to be good. Dock workers get good pay, so driver should too right?" He accepts the job and walks upstairs to the licensing department to begin his commercial drivers training. He ended up finding a place near the docks. It was an independent company. No real staff, just a locker to change into your work uniform and a computer showing you available loads. They even had a kiosk where you can rent a rig and fulfil your shipments. interesting jobs. But the most common was driving to Sandy Shores with a tanker full of fuel in tow. Seemed easy enough, would be a breeze if they didn't require me to drive down the smallest of streets to get to Ron's. It was next to a convenient store that usually had traffic through it. So that was always fun, the thought of someone being there and pulling out without seeing me and BOOM. But that wasn't the worst part. No, not in the slightest. The locals here do not give two shits about you or what you are hauling. The must not like city folks because anytime I was there they would not let me deliver without being in the way, Ram my rig, Not bother to move so I could reverse into the station. The lack a little upstairs I think. Inbreeding or drugs or something but they were not nice. A few times they even pulled me out of my rig to assault me. Well they found out I can throw hands. All in all the job was fine. I manages to buy my first car. A 93 Honda Prelude. Even had it painted Black with a purple metal flake. "Yeah... this would look good on my dirt lot" he thought sarcastically. Life was looking better. Now at least he had a car to sleep in. The nights weren't so cold. Still rained like hell but at least the sunroof wasn't leaky like the container was. Washing the car was a must. The rain would turn that dirt to mud in minutes and sometimes getting out of there was tough. It was not a four wheel and worse it was a front wheel. No power to get out of a wet paper bag let alone a mud pit. Even with his new ride he wanted more. He still needed to find a home. And even though his job paid well, he wanted something more meaningful. He decided to apply to the Los Santos Highway Patrol. To his surprise, he was accepted. A few days have gone by and things couldn't get any worse. He has a brief meet with his direct supervisor. First Sergeant Skuba was his name. We went over the handbook and where to locate them. He showed me the chain of command, We went over dress code and HP etiquette. And even did some behind the wheel. I got to test the sirens! WEE WOO! Sadly, he had some important business to attend to and had to fly out. My next training I was paired up with an officer from the city. Strong guy, I don't mean like buff but like headstrong, very firm in his tone. He meant business. His name was Darth if memory serves me correct. We went over setting up the scanners and more technical things. He even let me drive a bit. We drove from east Los Santos to Rockford Station where we met up with an Officer Hamilton. This is where EVERYTHING went wrong. Poor guy, He must've thought the worst of me. He passed out. Because of me, because my driving. Once when we were joining a car chase and I'm mashing. He's yelling stop... With good reason. I plowed into the chasing officer. We switch cars and he didn't say anything. But a person like me. The worst possible outcome to pop into my head is what I think this guy is thinking. We head out to the county where we join another chase. This time I'm going to do good. I'm in control of this unscratched, nicely polish Crown Vic. Chase heads up towards the prison, I get the bright idea to cut through a small patch of dirt to get onto the merging street. Nope, NOT IN CONTROL! We plowed right into a pole and wouldn't you know it. He wasn't wearing a seatbelt. He's now on the ground, I'm scared I'm going to prison for vehicular manslaughter. I'm freaking out in my head. And a flat black car pulls up. Guys with blue masks quickly get out " I hear a man in an Asian accent of some sort say something about taking him to a hospital. "Wait... what? no?" Before I could even get a word in. The officer was flung over one of the men's shoulders and they were off. This is bad. Masked men just took my training officer. I get back into the Crown Vic and wow. They actually took him to the hospital. He is better now I hear, haven't spoken to him since then. My next day of training was better in someway. I was paired with Sheriff Deputy. We rode around for a bit where we got a call of a gun fight outside of newly owned Tequi la la. Medics were overwhelmed and we assisted in bringing the injured to Pillbox. I was in charge of keeping a young woman in my sight while she recuperated. She seemed nice. Kind of quiet but looking at the situation and trauma she had just went through I could understand why. She told me about how tired she was and how she fell asleep in someone's car. Woman was so tiny she fit in the trunk. Her parents were lucky she recovered well. I know all she wanted was to get back to them. Glad she and her friends were ok. Tomorrow is a new day, hopefully a better one. (Wall of Text Crit! I hope you found the read interesting and humorous but time for bed.) ((Sorry if I used someone's name and they wish not to be. I can edit if needed, just let me know))
  3. Welcome, you are good to go as far as being your first pc game. I find learning the keys harder at first. And its annoying starting a new game and learning all over. But be patient it will come to you. I've been playing over a month and still learn something new every day.
  4. Welcome! We hope you enjoy your stay. What exactly is a portfolio manager? I like the idea of working for myself. Been thinking of starting an FBA. Should have done so long ago. Could have been rolling in money with the current situations.
  5. The Beginning. Leon was never the reckless type. In High School, he kept to himself mostly, up until the 11th grade. Reality was setting in. His days as an adolescent was nearing an end. Graduation was a few years away. He had to buckle down and think on which direction he'd be going. His love for card games, and fantasy wouldn't net him much of a future. He knew he had some hard thinking ahead of him. One night a friend Dawn calls him up. Dawn: "Hey Leon, what are you doing?" Leon: "Nada, just listening to music and thinking. Work, College, you know." Dawn: "Yea, for sure. Hey, listen. A neighbor of mine is having a party. You wanna be my plus one?" Leon: Well that sounds like fun... Who's the neighbor? someone I know? Dawn: "Uh huh, You know Karla from school? Leon: "Oh, um, yeah. People... that I actually see. *sighs* Dawn: "c'mon it will be fun." Leon: "fine..." This single innocent invitation was the one event that would change the course of his life. He was welcomed into the party. People he never thought he'd ever even speak to all greeted him. Joked with him, Laughed with him... More and more people showed up. This wasn't just any old birthday party. This was a house party. A house party that would later lead to underground parties, clubs, barbecues and raves. He got closer to this group of people unknowingly leaving his nerdy habits behind. Cards and games were replaced with booze, drugs, cars and loud music. He was invited too a meeting, this meeting was getting together between several crews discussing a Collab event they were planning. There was going to be big money poured into this. Warehouse location, Keggers, Lighting, Generators. They even had a system in place to create false information for the feds in order to confuse them and direct them out of the area. Leon listening quietly to the others speak. So and so is taking care of the location. Bald guy with the glasses was taking care of the Kegger runs. Everything was ironing out. Then he heard something that caused his eyes to open. They hadn't taken care of advertising. NERDY STUFF! Leon having a computer at a young age had the pleasure of messing with tools like Photobomb and After-inject. He quickly chimed in. "I know you all don't know me much. But I have some knowledge in computers and programs that might be of use to you. Give me the name and theme of your event and a few days to get you a sample ready for printing." They agreed as it might be worthwhile to have someone with the skill under their wing. He went home and immediately went to work. Composing a draft, searching the internet for stocks, cropping, inverting, opacity, rendering. In a little longer than a day he had finished. Tired but done. He didn't rush out to turn it in. He was barely capable of keeping his eyes open and he had a dripline of coffee to avoid sleeping. He sits back in his chair to review his work before his eyes sealed shut.... for two hours. Later that day... They loved it! And most importantly this began his new adventure in life. You see, what Leon didn't know was these crews paid good money for good work. I turn in a thumb drive with a quality flyer on it and I was awarded $1000. This was huge at 16. What started off as party flyers turned into fraudulent insurance documents when the local police began requiring insurance for all drivers. Insurance turned into Identification. Identification turning into passports. Soon, if there was something NEEDED, I was trying to make a bootleg version as authentic as possible. Of course this meant that I'd have to invest in other equipment. My old beat up pc wasn't going to cut it. My mothers old printer that she got at Walplex for 20 bucks wasn't going to cut it. My life of simple pen and paper and chicken picking on keyboard would later become 3d printers and laser cutters. Two decades later Leon's operation was successful. He found a girlfriend he later wed. He found a small town closer to the desert. Little population, 10,000 people or so. He leased a small warehouse under a different identity. Ran his business through there. A small rundown building. Cinder block construction, no windows. Front and back doors. Life was moving along fine until the feds caught up. While investigating another forgery operation they came across a company that he would periodically get some supplies from when his main stock or supplier had depleted. Those couple of purchases lead to his business and soon the vans drones and low flying private planes would arrive. He remembers one day walking into his office and the lights were on. This was odd as the lights were on a timer. The was a small lobby just before you walk into the back rooms easily visible from the front door. He walked slowly into the back room where he worked. He mostly worked alone, any he would involve was always outsourced so his office never came into the mix. Things were different, something was wrong. The smell was off. The old stale smell of emptiness smelled like coffee and cheap cologne. No was was in there but someone WAS there. He walks around looking closely for any signs of disruption. His 3D printers still working. His documents didn't appear to be touched. He shrugs it off as maybe just a failing sensor. He turns to grab a chair. Dragging it across the concrete floor with an annoying screeching sound to follow, he places it under the sensor so He can look at it maybe see if it can be replaced easily. He notices some marks along the side of it as if it had been recently pried open. He opens it up exposing a camera. Rapidly he jumps off the chair, reaches into his pocket pulling out his cell phone. He turns on the camera just before turning out the lights. There were infrared dots throughout the room. He collected what he could and left never to return. Now... he relocated to Los Santos.
  6. *opens his eyes* The dull chatter of the others around his was becoming clearer. The tuning in of certain words peaking his interests. The Captain alerts us over the intercom... "Welcome to Los Santos, San Andreas. The weather is a mild 81 degrees. Please keep your seat belts fastened, devices off and trays in their upright position until we have come to a full stop. A huge thank you from myself and the rest of the flight staff for choosing to fly with us today and any of your future adventures" No more did he have to pull his arms in tight avoiding bothering the elderly black woman sitting next to him. In mere minutes, the screaming child would no longer infiltrate my earshot, the headache won't recede as fast sadly. The sound of the engines slowing down as we glide gracefully to the ground. The wheels touch ground and we come to a rumbling halt at the end of the runway. As I reach for my bag I think to myself "This is it... my new home" *sighs* I walk down the ramp back into the airport terminal, down the stair into the arriving lobby and outside onto the oval shaped roadway. Leon Martelli, Meet Los Santos. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- OOC: Hello all, My name is John IRL, usually go by Johnny but there are a few already so I ran with Leon. This is my first dip in the pool in a modern day setting RP. Most of my experience come from Neverwinter Nights, DND, and SL. I am a pretty easy going guy. I have my mind on money so If I'm in game anywhere chances are I'm trying to make a buck. I have no idea just yet on where I am going with Leon. I have some ideas but it will take time to build up into this. So for now I'm just playing by ear. Trying to stay out of the way from others RP (bank robberies, races, etc.) I have met a few of you already, not formally. With time I'm sure I'll bump into some of you here and there. Feel free to say "Hi"
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