Young Writers Society

Setting: Chicago, Illinois 2020

Concept: There are two claudestine gangs - a version of the Italian Mafia "The Mafiya" and a chinese gang called "Aum Shinkyo" - warring in the city of Chicago in 2020. Daily drive-by shootings, violent beatings, robbery, extortion, and general mayhem are the events of this ongoing war. The two gangs are vieing for street-side supremacy (full drug dealing territory, permanent extortion set-ups etc.). An elite group who belong to the Mafiya have decided to assassinate all seventeen prominent Aum Shinkyo leaders which live scattered throughout the city. This will bring down Aum Shinkyo from the inside. Aum Shinkyo will do their best to kill these Mafiya assassins.

Characters: You can either be A.) a member of the Mafiya elite group or B.) An Aum Shinkyo footsoldier or C.) One of the assassinees (You don't have to die.)

-Rules for Characters:

-- You may not use words like "muscled" or "runner's build" or other Mary-Sue adjectives. Keep your characters real.
-- Everyone in the elite group knows each other already, so no cheesy introductions.
-- You are a criminal. You are nasty. Build your character around this fact.
-- No god modding
-- The leader of the elite group is Jason Valcetti

Misc:

-The story begin an hour before the elite group kills their first target (Jin Lee)
- Don't make it too easy to kill the Aum Shinkyo leaders
- You all work as a team
- I don't care what kind of high tech weaponry or gadgetry you have.
- Remeber your characters have personal lives too!


Name: Jason Valcetti
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Build: Stocky, yet agile. Is left handed and has neck problems
Eye color and Hair color: Blue/Black
Elite Group Rank: Leader
Speciality: Sniper
Equipment: A Ruger Sniper gun, seven hand grenades, a small pistol strapped around his calve.
Personality: Intelligent, brooding, dark, commanding, clever.

Have at it. One of you guys can start us off.

-Kylan

I am in!

Name: Paul Stalione
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Build: http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/I/5 ... SS500_.jpg
Eye color and Hair color: http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/I/5 ... SS500_.jpg
Elite Group Rank: Assassin
Speciality: Knives
Equipment: A pistol, two kitchen knives, arsenic
Personality: Intelligent, Ladies' Man (haha), Has feelings for other people, is scared of anything to do with his eyes.

Name: Senna (Tiny) Almond
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Build: Athletic build, tan, skinny
Eye color and Hair color: Blue/Brown
Elite Group Rank: Assassin
Speciality: knives, suduction
Equipment: KNives of all sorts, all but one hidden, there are about ten on her total, including on in her hair.
Personality: Quiet when she isn't working, doesn't dare suduce unless she has to and wont to friends , she is careful of what she says to some people. She has a crush on Paul (hope you don't mind, if you do i'll change it easy as pie), but you would have to kill her to get her to tell anyone. She usually gets her victum to trust her then she kills, she is good at disquies (sp).

Just a reminder, these people aren't teenagers or normal people. They are hardened killers. They are nasty criminals! KEEP THIS IN MIND WHILST WRITING YOUR CHARACTER PROFILE. (Refering for the 'crush' and the 'feelings for other people'.) I'll let those two aforementioned character profile faults to pass, though Gadi and TN.

-Kylan

What, no one wants to be Chinese?

Name: Ho Jin Wang
Age: 32
Hair color/eye color: bald (shaven, not natural), brown
Build: "athletic" very strong, but not very muscular. Extremely agile through years of training in various forms of martial arts.
Appearance: Wears business suits, and for all intents and purposes, appears as a normal businessman (as any good mafioso would) except for a gash/scar above and across his left eye.
Personality: Very calm most of the times. Doesn't particularly enjoy fighting and killing (Except in certain aspects, usually in regards to traitors, those who cross him, etc) and keeps up appereances for all intents and purposes is just an ordinary businessman, until the time is necessary to reveal his true self. This doesn't mean that he isn't ruthless, because he is, he is just more thoughtful/sneaky/underhanded about it than most
Specialty: martial arts (hand to hand combat, knives, other small weapons) and pistols.
Rank: Shi-go-tzei (Underboss). Rose to this rank at such a young age through ruthlessness.
Miscellaneous: Runs his business out of a legitimate Chinese restaurant in China town and a martial arts studio in Humboldt Park (Chicago Neighborhood). In addition to being legit businesses to keep up appearances/legit cash, the majority of his business deals are made in the backrooms.

Name: Kurokawa Kumiko
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Build: Stocky, 5'4
Eye color and Hair color: Green eyes,long black hair.
Elite Group Rank: Foot soldier.
Speciality: Hand-to-hand combat.
Equipment: Metal baseball bat, two pistols (one on each hip), and a butterfly knife in her pocket.
Personality: Vane, brutal, loves to beat the crap out of her victims. She has been known to pick up large pieces of wood and reassemble cars, faces, etc.

I don't know if this is good, but we could disregard this if it completely goes away from the general idea of this storybook.
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Paul was darting through the Chicago streets. Senna was running behind him.

"Paul, who do we kill first?"

"Wang."

She was quiet. Then, about three blocks down, Chinese stores started to pop up more and more frequently. Paul took a right turn, Senna following right behind him.

"Why couldn't we go in the car?"

"We only have the Lamborghini and the Ferraris."

"Ah. Too much attention. We can't show our Italian heritage anymore, huh?"

He didn't laugh, but they both ceased running and started walking, taking sharp turn after sharp turn, until Paul stopped in front of a fish store and said, "Here we are."

Senna grinned, "So, he's about twice our ages, all we got to do is distract him and do our jobs." She ran through how it would work in her mind. She had seen Wang once. He was a tough man, that is why they were both there. He wasn't easy to fool either so it was a sudden attack, not one that would be brought out slowly. She looked in the resturant.

*Sorry it is short, don't want to mess it up *

She sat at a table in the far corner of Ho Jin's normal hangout; his restaurant. Kurokawa watched everyone that came in and out from behind large sunglasses, picking lazily at a plate of food sat at the table in front of her. She was more focused on Ho Jin, who seemed to move around a lot tonight, busy with his patrons.


Tonight she was tense. She had a strange feeling in her gut. Kurokawa had her hair pulled into a high ponytail, falling to her neck in an array of curls, which was normally straight. She didn't even want Ho Jin to recognize her.

*Wang can't be killed. That's Sabradan. The first target is Jin Lee as stated in the first post.*

“How much longer?” Mark asked, voice stifled by the ski mask, his hands anxiously stroking an AK-47 in the semi-darkness of the van.

“Patience,” Jason Valcetti whispered. “There’s been no contact with Paul and Senna yet. They contact, we strike. You know that.”

“Hell, they’re taking their time.”

Booker Campbell snorted in the darkness. “Are you kidding. We’re talking about Paul, here. That bastard’s a perfectionist. He’s gotta have every corner tied down and checked and re-checked and checked again before he does anything.”

“I hate radio silence,” Mark said. “It means waiting.”

“Patience,” Jason repeated.

“Shut up, Mom.”

“Don’t you two whores ever stop arguing?” Booker mumbled.

Jason checked his automatic’s magazine again, the action snapping back crisply. “This isn’t an argument, Bookie. It’s playful banter.”

“Banter, my ass.”

Mark tapped his foot nervously, beating out an edgy tattoo. “How much longer, Jason.”

“Mark, you impatient – ”

Jason’s earcom crackled and he held up two fingers, silencing the conversation. He hoped it wasn’t interference again. Truth be told, he was as nervous as Mark. This was a big one. A job that Mafiya foot soldiers only dreamed of. It was an honor to be handed a gun and be asked to end a war.

But he was still nervous.

Paul and Senna, where are you?

Paul’s voice wafted over the comlink. “Ground to wheels, ground to wheels. The fish is in the water. The target has left the market and is heading home.”

“The usual protection?”

“Yep. He’s got one hell of a security team. Invisible but always present. These guys are good.”

“Well, we’ve got to be better.”

“Have you secured the meeting point?”

“That’s what I’m about to do. Come back ASAP.”

“Yeah, yeah. Patience, Valcetti. Patience.”

Jason smirked, looked up at Mark and Booker, and nodded. Mark grinned, flung open the van door and vaulted out, hunched over his gun, eyes scanning the store parking lot across from the Lee mansion. Booker and Jason followed. Like predators on a hunt, the three sprinted across the lot and inched into the shadows. Jason threw himself against the doorway, one hand clenched into a fist. Stop.

He nodded at Booker who made his way up the steps and to the store’s door. Jason’s fist mutated into an open palm. Ready.

Sweat gathered in beads under his ski mask, saturating the material. Jason tasted the salt eagerly, licking his lips. Aim and fire. Pull the trigger. Don’t even think about it.

He brought down his arm. Now.

Booker rang the doorbell twice. They heard footsteps as the store owner came to see who was ringing the bell this late at night. Little pig, little pig, let me in. A small Chinese man opened the door, his eyes widening as he glanced at the massive Mafiya hitmen, in full gun toting glory, and opened his mouth to speak.

“We’re closed.”

Booker shot him twice in the head. The shop owner jerked back and collapsed. A woman – about thirty years old – came around a corner, a dish towel in hand. She screamed as the men burst into her home and gasped as Mark shot her as well. Jason broke away from the pair and rushed up a flight of stairs, taking them two at a time. The top floor of the shop had three rooms and Jason shouldered his way into each of the rooms, searching for children or visitors, his gun whipping around, dancing almost from shadowy object to shadowy object. Clear.

Clear.

Senna waited for the sound of Booker or any of the others voices to come over the speaker, to tell them to come get them. She waited, and waited, boy was she bored, then the speaker crackled, and she smiled they were ready.

*Sorry, just don't want this to die.*

This looks cool. I might post a profile later.

~Helmet~