The Unholy Newt

[size=1]Life was [i]so[/i] exciting. He'd been sitting, watching tv for at least an hour. And it wasn't fun. It isn't very easy to just sit calmly and watch tv when you know that any second you could be whacked over the head by a triad. Although he doubted they'd catching him by suprise. He had a knack for telling when people were near. It came from a mix of martial arts and meditation heightening his awareness of his surroundings, and the fact that he had a million little cousins who all took immense pleasure in sneaking up on unsuspecting relatives and dumping frogs down their shirts or the like. Even without the martial arts it wasn't very difficult to be paranoid about people being near with visions of jelly down your pants. Bradley felt a prickle down the hairs on the back of his neck. [i]They're here[/i] he thought. There was the faintest of creaks in the adjoining room to the central hotel room area. He pretended not notice it and continued watching tv. Softly footsteps crept up on him. He braced as something came over his face and everything faded out. He woke up and everything was a blur. His vision cleared and he saw the dark steel of a jail door and wall. His hands were binded behind the wooden chair he sat on but his feet were free. He was counting on that for when he made his move. There was a video camera on a tripod in the corner of the room which he also needed. There was a squeak as the cell door opened. Three chinese . . . gentlemen entered the room. The first moved behind him, the second in front of him and the other prepared the camera. The one standing in front of Bradley spoke. "Do you know why you are here boy?" He asked in fractured english. "You . . . You'll p p pay for this. M my father is a p p powerful man." "I am sure. Tell us what you know of your father's business." "I . . . I won't t t tell you anything, you b bastard."[/size]

[size=1]Bradley patted Rae's back in a sarcasticly sympathetic fashion. He then turned to Liam. "So, Liam. Can we go yet, I'm starting to get restless already." "From what I've noticed, you've been restless the whole day." "I get like that when I'm . . ." "Nervous," Liam cut him off. "Yeah, well you wouldn't be particularly calm if you just had a chunk of metal shoved into your back and had the prospect of sitting in a cold metal room getting the stuffing knocked out of you." Bradley suddenly felt better. Having his fears ousted took osme of the nerves away and he felt himself ready to begin. "Alright. We'll get going then. We'll have a taxi ordered for Bradley here and he'll be transported to the airport to meet his new father. Once he is on his way the boys in blue'll come and arrest us. We'll then set up operations at the station." He turned to Zharra. "We need you to go find Bailey first though. I haven't seen her since she left us at the canteen. She nodded and left. The rest of them rose and left to get their things in order. On the way back to their rooms Liam pulled Bradley aside. "Now you know what you've got to do once you've been captured?" "Kinda." "You need to act the rich little snot. Once they've given away the information we need, then you can act. Do what it takes but be careful. From what I've seen you should be able to handle yourself fine without a weapon. You'll need to get us a signal." "I've got a pretty good idea of what I intend to do." Bradley said confidently. "Plan to share that with us huh?" Liam prompted. "Well you said before that for ransom that the triads like to record DVDs as ransom notes?" "I do." "Well for my signal you should get a rather interesting DVD in the mail." Leaving Liam, Bradley went into the room and began to gather the things he required, begrudingly packing his revolver away. ~TUN[/size]

[size=1][i]After a very much amusing 'can on head race around the table' It was time for Bradley to go get the tracker implant. He and Liam left the two girls to head down to electronics to get it put in. They entered an electronics labratory and Bradley was instructed to sit down on small black stool. He did so and watched as they prepared the tracker. He nervously watched, though showing no expression, as they prepared a rather long pointy thing that they were to put it in with. "Remember what I said about it being painless?" Liam asked as they were just about to insert it. "Yeah," he replied, his voice steady. Liam grinned, "I lied." As the tracker was inserted, an excriciating pain shot all the way up his spinal cord. A bead of sweat trickled down his head but much to Liam's annoyance he showed no sign whatsoever of the pain he felt. "Damnnit. I hate it when we get the smartass ones who don't feel pain. They're no fun." Liam said pouting. Bradley smiled weakly as he rubbed his spine. "Better get ready. You'll have to leave your gun though, it'll look out of place." Bradley's expression darkened. "You're lucky I like you, or I'd hit you right now." Liam grinned and they exited the electronics lab.[/size][/i] ~TUN

OOC: Sorry for not posting for a while. Net was down Thursday and Friday I had a drama production and didn't get back till late. [size=1][i]Bradley came out of his room and saw Rae and Bailey walking down the hall. He lengthened his stride a bit to catch up with them. "Mind if I stick with you guys, Liam has nicked off somewhere and I got nothing to do." He turned his attention to Bailey. "We haven't formally met yet. I'm Bradley. Call me Brad though if you want." "I'll do that, I'm Bailey," she replied shaking his offered hand. "So where we goin?" He asked Rae. "We're headed to the mess hall to get some breakfast. I was going to introduce Bailey here to some other agents. I'll introduce you as well if you'd like" "Thanks. That'd be great." They continued on down the hall past the dorms and back into the headquarters. Looking at Rae Bradley made a mental note to find out how she memorises the directions around the place. To Bradley, the headquarters could rival egypt in maze making. Eventually they made it to a large canteen looking place. There were numerous tables with long benchs attached to them which could fit about five people a bench. At the far end there were the buffets where staff were serving people. The three of them grabbed plates and got their food. They then sat down at a table with a group of agents who Rae began speaking with. ~TUN[/size][/i]

[size=1][i]Bradley awoke and looked over at his travel clock. 6:30am it read. He was hoping he would sleep longer so he lay back down and tried to sleep again. After about ten minutes of staring at the ceiling he gave up and got up. He went and had a quick shower and then found an empty room where he would not disturb anyone. He started with some warm up stretches to loosen himself up. He then did a set of push ups and crunches. He looked around the room for a suitable bar to use for some chin ups but found nothing. Then he had an idea. He went into the room's bathroom and used the curtain rod as a bar. After he was satisfied he went back into the room and then started on some kata. The only time he felt at peace was when he was totally immersed in his martial arts. His movements were like fluid, his body and mind moving as one. Bradley stopped to rest for a moment and wondered if the building had any boards he could break. He figured that they wouldn't really appreaciate him going around and breaking stuff so he just did some repetitions of punching and kicks. He considered going back into the headquarters and trying to find a weight room but he didn't know if they were allowed to leave the hostel. He did some stretches to warm down and then sat and meditated for a while. Happy with his efforts, Bradley returned to his room and had another quick shower and got dressed. He decided to sit on his bed and read for a while but soon got restless and left the room to see if anyone else was awake.[/i][/size]

[size=1] [i]Bradley managed, miraculously, to find the room he had slept in the previous night, to collect his things to take down to the 'hostel'. He had a duffle bag with most of his things in it and a small carry bag that he had taken on the flight. It contained a few of Bradley's favourite books and some other necessities. He picked them up and walked out the door. Now he had to find his way back to the 'hostel'. "This place is a bloody labyrinth." He thought to himself. He managed to find his way back to the janitor's closet that led to their lodgings and went in. He went past a few rooms and saw that they were having two to a room. He picked one on the end. Someone elses bags were on the other bed so he put his on the other one. He unpacked his bag and put his clothes into the closet. He then picked up one of his books and started to read. He tried reading for a few minutes and became restless. He couldn't stop thinking about his mission. His first mission. He hoped everything went well, he felt as the youngest that everyone else looked down on him so he longed to prove himself. He suddenly remembered how tired he was, so he took off his trench coat and removed his revolver, placing under the pillow. He lay down and grasped the gun with his right hand under the pillow and fell asleep.[/i] [/size]

[size=1] [i]Brad woke up and checked his watch. He was late for the briefing. He swore under his breath and got dressed. He was buggered because he had arrived by plane at one in the morning and only had a few hours sleep. He chose a nice long cloth trenchcoat with a built in holster custom made for his gun. He checked the chamber to see if it was loaded and then slipped it into the holster. He left his room in search of the briefing room. He had no idea where the hell he or it was. When he arrived earlier this morning he had been escorted by a guard to his room, only slightly aware of were he was or what he was doing. He stopped and looked at a map. He found the briefing room after a few minutes and muttered a triumphant 'ha!' Then he realised he didn't know where he was and his triumph ended. He noticed a guard walking past and asked him where the briefing room was. The guard responded with a string of sentences that made no sense. He figured that it was either because he was to tired to understand human speech or the guard didn't speak english. He opted for the second option. After about half an hour of frantic search, Brad finally found a door with 'Briefing Room' written on it. He breathed a sigh of relief and entered.[/i] [b]Brad:[/b] Sorry I'm late. [b]Man:[/b] You're not late, you're about five minutes early. [i]Bradley was confused. He looked at his watch again and then realised his watch was still on Australian time. He turned red and then introduced himself.[/i] ~TUN [/size]

[size=1] [b]Name:[/b] Bradley Russo (Pronounced [i]Rooso[/i], a couple of people have had trouble pronouncing it so I thought I'd get it clear) [b]Age:[/b] 16 [b]Sidearm:[/b] .45 Colt Revolver (An oldie but my personal favourite) [b]Specialization:[/b] Intelligence, Martial Arts (Various) [b]Bio:[/b] Bradley was always thought of as the type who was brawn and not brains. Except to those who had actually seen his report card. Until recently he had been obsessed with reputation and was extremely worried that one of his 'friends' (i.e. people whi pretended to like him lest they be beaten a bloody pulp) would discovered that was in fact not the macho dumb a** that everyone thought he was. Brad's parents had always been an enigma to him. Wonderful people, very nice and warm but also very close mouthed. As far as Brad knew, his father was a lawyer and his mother a psychologist. They never discussed their work at all, giving the excuse that they could not betray their client's trust and go blabbing their business to a teenager. Usually Bradley would just shrug it off until he actually pulled his head out of the clouds and observed his parents. At least once a month one of them would get a phone call and suddenly have to go on a business trip. Usual excuses, business convention, court case out of town. Again this seemed semi-normal to Bradley. Then he noticed even more strange things. One time his father came home from a 'business trip' with a very severe limp. When asked about it he shrugged and said he tripped. Even more strange were the most unusual people who would turn up at their door every so often. They would converse in hushed whispers and then leave. Eventually Bradley decided to discuss these strange occurences to his parents. He talked to them about his concerns and during the conversation both his parents burst out in big grins. Thet told him it was about time he noticed these things and then his father went and made a phone call. Nothing more was said about the subject until the following night. A man showed up at their door and was invited in. He sat down with all three of the Russos and Bradley was informed of who his parents really were. ASIO operatives. Bradley's jaw dropped on disbelief. The man started to talk about another organisation by the name of SYF. He said they were an organisation made up of adolescent operatives to handle situations that would be easier for kids to handle rather than adults. Bradley's life altered severely after that. [b]Description:[/b] Bradley is a very well built person. He his light grey eyes and dark brown hair. He is rather attractive however he chooses to wear plain and simple clothes. ~TUN [/size]

[b]Bradly:[/b] So do we know where she is? [b]John:[/b] Fortunately Chinese Intel keeps a close leash on their employees. All of them have tracking devices planted on them at all times. They have been kind enough to offer their help, we just have to stop at their HQ to get a tracker. [b]Bradley:[/b] My car is just across the street, let's go. [i]They crossed the street to Bradley's car. It was a busted up old Datsun from the 90s. John approached it with a slightly sceptical look and reluctantly got in. After three revs of the engine and kick beneath the dash, the car started up with bang as loud a shotgun. Leaving a trail of black exhaust smoke they drove away. Bradley wound down the window and lit up a cigarette.[/i] [b]John:[/b] You smoke. [b]Bradley:[/b] [i]Perfectly serious[/i] No. [b]John:[/b] You do a pretty good smoking impression then. [b]Bradley:[/b] The smoke isn't much worse than the exhaust. [i]Points to the rear of the car where the black smoke is still trailing behind them.[/i] [b]John:[/b] That is why they invented the electric car you know. [b]Bradley:[/b] Don't appeal to me. To me nothing is better than the hacking cough of a Daddo. [b]John:[/b] Ah, I see. [b]Bradley:[/b] Of course you don't, but you'll live. Hopefully. [i]They pulled up at a rundown old office building deep into the center of Beijing. They walked in and Bradley flashed his ID as the security guard opened his mouth. As they passed the security desk Bradley slowed to allow John to lead the way.[/i] ~TUN

[i]Bradley flicked up the top of his laptop to check his messages. He had one new one from the CIA Agent he was supposed to be meeting. 'Meet me at the Wai Lai Park (ooc: Forgive me if I say anything bad, I don't speak a word of chinese) two blocks down from Chong's Diner tomorrow at noon. I will be on the bench wearing a blue fedora, you must wear a black one.' Yay, Bradley thought sarcastically, I just love dressing up. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bradley entered the Wai Lai Park at 11:50, dressed fully in the get up of the 1930s, including the fedora. Except he had Desert Eagle concealed beneath his trenchcoat instead of a 45. cal. He walked over to a bench with a man in a red fedora seated reading a newspaper. He sat down beside him.[/i] [b]Bradley:[/b] You Americans are just full of cliches aren't you? [b]John:[/b] Bradley Russo I presume? ~TUN

Nothing like 'disposing' of a few commies [b]Name:[/b] Bradley James Russo [b]Age:[/b] 26 [b]Languages:[/b] English, Chinese, Russian [b]Country:[/b] Australia [b]Description:[/b] Bradley is one of those people who wouldn't gain a second look from anyone. Not because he is some kind of freak people wouldn't want to look at, but because he is exactly the opposite. He is plain inevery single way, plain face, plain clothes, plain. He has short cut, brown hair and gray eyes. He is a very good figure, muscular, washboard abs, the works. [b]Biography:[/b] In school Bradley was good at everything. Captain of the senior football team, head of cadets, valedictorian and popular. He was accepted into the top military academy in the country and graduated with honours. A couple years through his army career he was approached by A.S.I.O. (Australian Secret Intelligence Organization) He went through all their screening processes, entrance exams and everything and was accepted in as a field operative. New to the organization, he has been given his most important mission yet. ~TUN

I play D&D quite often and it does not corrupt me any further than I already am. And I also am a DM. And I will definetely agree that no one should ever watch the D&D movie. It is full of s**t. Nothing in it even comes close to the actual game. And by itself it was a very bad movie. But yeah, you could also have your players worship the christian god. Well in our gaming group we percieve the D&D god, Heironius as basically the equivalent of the Christian God. Even if we do play evil characters in D&D (Which I do regularly :D) We aren't going to go out and slaughter an entire town. ~TUN

ooc: Just something I probably forgot to add. The police do not know who Dominic Virelli is. Because if we know who the bad guys are, it kind of takes the point of having an RPG where we are detectives investigating to find out who they are. ~TUN PS - I can post at the moment since I am in the middle of class.

For all who are in this, the RPG has begun in the RPG forum. So post away. ~TUN

Whoever says that God does not like death is mistaken. Have you actually read the bible!? Look what god did to the Egyptians, he killed every Egyptian family's first born son, and is even worse because it was the Pharoh and his army that tortured and killed the Israeli, not some poor kid who had no idea what was going on. And take a look at what he did to poor old Job. Just because Satan disputed the man's faith, he killed his stock, his family, destroyed his home and covered the man in boils, just to prove a point. O praise you, loving and merciful God. And in case you haven't heard. Saddam Hussein has been firing SCUD Missiles to defend himself. Wait a minute, aren't SCUD's classed as weapons of mass destruction? Gee, and thought he didn't have any. Strange. ~TUN

I know it was a few pages back, but I'd like to address Gokents on his comment that the supporters of the war are mostly ones from soldier families. My family has a very militaristic background, yet I do not support the war. My father is a Major in the ADF. My grandfather was a Brigadier who served in the Vietnam War. My great grandfather served in the second world war. My best friend's father is a Warrant Officer in the army and his mother is a corporal. And I also intend to join the military. And yet I do not support this war. And also from the talk about Vietnam, I don't care what you think, that war was a mistake. Thousands of both civilian and military lives were lost, and still the Viet Cong won, but yet the Americans still act as if it was their great victory. Forgive me if I've totally missed a heap, I'm only on page seven, but I felt a need to express my opinion. But anyway, I do not feel that this war was neccesary (sp?) and that it could have been possible to solve on more peaceful measures. Usually I am not a passifist (sp?) and I would agree with this war if there was no alternative. However since it seems I have no choice, an adolescent can't make much of a difference. So I shall support my country's decision and simply keep the Australian soldiers in the Gulf in my thoughts. Also speaking of the Gulf. It is amazing, my dad has 194 books on warfare, and not one of them is on the first Gulf War. ~TUN

---------------------------------------- New Orleans Police Department 10:30am - 19 May 1931 ---------------------------------------- [i]Baz stepped out of his car and headed up the stairs to the Organised Crime Office. As he walked past the stove, he lit it and put a kettle on for coffee. He entered his office and checked the memo office, there was a note from Captain Bradley Russo, the officer in charge of the division.[/i] Senior Detective Coddlesworth, [i]Great, already a bad sign, Baz thought to himself. The Chief always called him by his rank and surname whenever he was annoyed with him.[/i] You are to report to my office the moment you arrive at the office today. Be punctual. Captain Bradley J. Russo, Head of Division 13: Organised Crime [i]The day was looking up already. Baz lit up a smoke, finished in one breath, breathed deeply and strolled out of his office. He went up to the Chief's door and knocked.[/i] [b]Capt. Russo:[/b] Come in. [i]Baz gritted his teeth and walked into the Chief's office, he was almost knocked down as the Chief's voice hit him.[/i] [b]Capt. Russo:[/b] WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM CODDLESWORTH!? A F**KING SHOOT OUT IN JACKSON SQUARE! [b]Baz:[/b] I only shot one person. [b]Capt. Russo:[/b] Coddlesworth, do you know the amount of paperwork this division has to go through because of you? [b]Baz:[/b] Yeah, and half of it is sitting on my desk. [b]Capt. Russo:[/b] I'm not in the mood for your wisecracks, Coddlesworth. One more slip up and you are on suspension. Now get out. [b]Baz:[/b][i] Straightening up[/i] Yes sir! [i]As Baz opened the door to leave, he heard several thumps as eavesdroppers were knocked to the floor. He ignored them and went staright to his office. He slumped down in his chair and lit up a cigarette. He heard a voice from the doorway.[/i] [b]Voice:[/b] What have I told you about smoking those things when I'm around Baz? [i]Baz turned his chair around to look at the source of the voice. Mia Farrow stood in the doorway looking critically at him.[/i] [b]Baz:[/b] Go open a window. [b]Mia:[/b] My, aren't we a bit touchy this morning. Here's your coffee. [b]Baz:[/b] Thanks. So whats up? ~TUN

Luck is just an invention so people can complain when life screws them over and gloat when they get a good run. ~TUN

I'd choose the newborn baby. It has a whole new world of opportunity before it to be succesful and live a full life. The flunked out teen, though I'd feel sorry for him, isn't much of an opportunity to be a help for the community and the grandmother, though she is loved by her family very much, has only a short amount if time before she passes anyway. ~TUN

I don't think many people get the question. The man wants to know who you would pick to go down the road with you, your son or your daughter. You have to pick one and leave the other behind. ~TUN

Doesn't really matter he is dead anyway *hint hint*, except we don't find that out for a while. But that is just what his name is in the whole big story that I am writing. Here is my character also. [b]Name:[/b] Basil Coddlesworth [b]Age:[/b] 28 [b]Badge No:[/b] 416 [b]Equipment and Weaponry:[/b] Twin .45 Magnum Revolvers, Twin Sawnoff Shotguns, Kukri (Dagger) hidden in left boot. Notepad, Pen, Field Kit (Not that they had much to put in one), Handcuffs, PR-24m wallet, Matchbook, Pack of Cigarettes. [b]Description:[/b] Very tall and muscular. Deep thoughtful grey eyes. Very attractive, ladies man. His hair is cut in a short military style haircut. He dresses in a black suit, but instead of the jacket his wears a long black trenchcoat. He also wears a black, white banded fedora. [b]Biography:[/b] Baz grew up in New York to a middle class family in the rough side of town. He went to a state elementary school but won an scholarship to a big private school in New Orleans. After he graduated he moved back to NY and studied Forensics and Criminology. After his got his degree he entered into the New Orleans Police Academy. He met his current partner, Mia Farrow there and they became fast friends. Much to her annoyance, Mia always came second to Baz, with him eventually becoming the Dux of the Academy. When they graduated their paths seperated. He became a street patroller, partnered with Mia's fiancee, Rick Hobson. Together they cracked many cases, obviously picking up a few enemies. During one large case when they had moved up to homicide, Rick dissapeared, linked to a mob case. Baz requested a transfer to Organized Crime so he could have a lead role in finding him. *phew* ~TUN

Yes you can. However, Mia does not smoke, she is the one that is always psyching up at Baz for smoking. Mia is quite critical of Baz. And Draguul, a more detailed description for the Don would help. i.e, his history, an elaboration on his description all those little details. More than one person can sign up for a character and i'll pick the one I think is better. ~TUN

[b]New Orleans - 1931[/b] The city of New Orleans. 1931. On of the years of prohibition, the decade of organised crime, the mob. New Orleans is over run by the terror of organised crime. The Mafia, the Yakuza, the Triad. All forms of criminal organizations, plague the streets. One mafia family reigns supreme over all of the organised crime in New Orleans. The Virelli family, run by Dominic Virelli, the Don. His identity is unknown to all but a select few of the ranks if the Virelli family. Named by those who know him as [i]The Vampire of New Orleans[/i]. He never strays from the Emerald Rose Mansion, located on the banks of the bayous of New Orleans. Named what he is for his haunting appearance, his cold personality and also for the cold steel mask that never leaves his face, maybe he has been scared by some horrific injury, or maybe too ugly for the human eyes to see. Even to his daughter and his right hand man, Raymond Torreno, it's purpose is unknown. The New Orleans Police Department. Synonomous with rise of organised crime, was the concept of police corruption. Many of the ranks of New Orleans finest have been tainted with the dirty money of the Virelli's. However some have escaped untainted. Such two are Senior Detective Basil Coddlesworth and Detective Mia Farrow. Partners in the Department of Organised Crime at the NOPD, they are two of the very few who remain unbought by the criminals that run New Orleans. Basil Coddlesworth. One of the few great men that only arise every few generations. Number one at the New Orleans Police Academy and surpassed by no man. His name alone can strike fear into the hearts of criminals. Mia Farrow. The unwielding rock. Many years of being topped by Baz and still she keeps strong, unwilling to break. She is one to not take any **** from anyone, especially her partner Baz. Together they form the greatest team in NOPD history. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ This RPG is part one in a series I myself created. I only want serious role players in this RPG. I will play the role of Baz. I want someone to take the role of Mia Farrow and someone else to play the Don, Dominic Virelli. That person can also adopt the role of his right hand man, Raymond Torreno or someone different can play him. Also I want other police officers and other gangsters. Notes on Mia - Only one who gets away with poking fun at Baz. Her fiancee, Rick Hobson and Baz's previous partner is missing in action, presumed dead from a previous run in with the mob. If no one wants to play her, I will play her myself. Here is what I want. [b]Name[/b] [b]Age:[/b] [b]Badge No:[/b] (If applicable) [b]Equipment and Weaponry:[/b] (Remembering it is the 30s) [b]Description:[/b] [b]Short Bio:[/b] I will post my character later. ~TUN

No, I'm afraid that is what you said. And I quote: "We levitated the teacher about 3 feet off the ground, he had no idea what was going on for several seconds as well until he looked down and freaked." Remember, you are the one with the dodgy memory, not me. ~TUN

Cloricus, I really can't see you paying out people trying to be 'cool' and do 'magical' stuff, since you were the one in Year 9 attempting to convince me and a few others that in one of your old schools you managed to get witchcraft banned by using 'magic' to levitate your teacher 3 feet off the ground. ~TUN