Zero stood on a balcony looking over the inside of the warehouse that he and his dysfunctional family lived in. The family was a gang that was put together by himself and his twin brother, Ace. At the time they were thirteen. Yeah, they had been extremely young but, necessities called for the brothers to create a group that could stand together and keep other people and gangs from outright attacking and possibly killing them.
Now over ten years later they were the top gang in the area, feared and respected by all below them. Luckily neither brother had any intentions of using that power to crush everyone underfoot. No, they were happy being at the top and making sure to keep the peace with the other gangs. While they could be ruthless they weren't the type to go out of their way to start a fight.
"You look annoyed, brother mine," a voice chirped from just below him.
Chocolate eyes glanced down with a 'what do you take me for' sort of face, "You can read minds. You tell me."
With a huff, the caramel eyed male climbed the rest of the way up and came to stand before his twin. "While that may be true I do like hearing people say what they are thinking... Gives me a sorta... sense of 'normal'. I suppose," Ace offered with a tired shrug.
For Ace Shoto, his abilities were a curse- then again if people knew the extent of his or Zeros' they probably would agree. You see, Ace had the 'gift' to hear others' thoughts. All. The. Damn. Time. So far he's only met people who could temporarily block him but, not forever. As for Zero... His ability was known for being able to see and send a vision of death to the person he is touching. So far no one knows that Zero could feel the pain of that vision.
The harder twin snorted faintly but then went along, "I am annoyed because last night I was cornered by Avery and then Victor both 'giving me advice' about needing a partner. Of course, both mentioned that they were single and looking."
At those words, Ace began to laugh softly before doubling over cackling. "Oh man, that is brilliant," he gasped out, eyes filled with mirth.
{Both twins are Bisexual}
Now over ten years later they were the top gang in the area, feared and respected by all below them. Luckily neither brother had any intentions of using that power to crush everyone underfoot. No, they were happy being at the top and making sure to keep the peace with the other gangs. While they could be ruthless they weren't the type to go out of their way to start a fight.
"You look annoyed, brother mine," a voice chirped from just below him.
Chocolate eyes glanced down with a 'what do you take me for' sort of face, "You can read minds. You tell me."
With a huff, the caramel eyed male climbed the rest of the way up and came to stand before his twin. "While that may be true I do like hearing people say what they are thinking... Gives me a sorta... sense of 'normal'. I suppose," Ace offered with a tired shrug.
For Ace Shoto, his abilities were a curse- then again if people knew the extent of his or Zeros' they probably would agree. You see, Ace had the 'gift' to hear others' thoughts. All. The. Damn. Time. So far he's only met people who could temporarily block him but, not forever. As for Zero... His ability was known for being able to see and send a vision of death to the person he is touching. So far no one knows that Zero could feel the pain of that vision.
The harder twin snorted faintly but then went along, "I am annoyed because last night I was cornered by Avery and then Victor both 'giving me advice' about needing a partner. Of course, both mentioned that they were single and looking."
At those words, Ace began to laugh softly before doubling over cackling. "Oh man, that is brilliant," he gasped out, eyes filled with mirth.
{Both twins are Bisexual}
Cool rp can I join? Or should I just start
(Feel free to just start. It's a 'jump in' rp.)
It started like any normal Sunday Lemon was in her greenhouse mixing recently picked plants when her dad came bursting in to inform her he heard from a source that one of the brothers were in search of a partner. Lemon had no interest in her father’s illegal business pursuits but he was determined to use her and her knowledge of herbs to help him anyway he could. That's how Lemon found herself standing at the entrance of the Warehouse. The plan went Lemon was consulting on something for the brothers but while she was there her real mission was to win the hand of one of the brothers.
Lemon’s long golden hair was in a high pony framing her round sun kissed skin and emerald eyes. She had a pair of low riding loose jeans that were rolled at the ankle, a tight plain white T-shirt, and a pair of orange crocs. Lemon was considered a natural Beauty but since she spent most of her days in the garden or forest searching for plants she wasn’t much for fancy things.
Slowly Lemon lifts one hand and knocks on the old warehouse door. “Hello”
Lemon’s long golden hair was in a high pony framing her round sun kissed skin and emerald eyes. She had a pair of low riding loose jeans that were rolled at the ankle, a tight plain white T-shirt, and a pair of orange crocs. Lemon was considered a natural Beauty but since she spent most of her days in the garden or forest searching for plants she wasn’t much for fancy things.
Slowly Lemon lifts one hand and knocks on the old warehouse door. “Hello”
Hello, is it okay if I join the roleplay
Besides mispronouncing her name, Kamala Chakrabarti hated getting lost. It made her feel incompetent and dumb and as the boss of your own company, you don't want to look like that. An hour earlier, her car had broken down and tired of waiting for help that would never come, she decided to use the GPS on her phone, which was on 15%, to lead her to the nearest mechanic. That was the first dumb mistake. The second was after following it for half an hour and then after it died, continuing to walk down some random path the stupid thing had led her too for another half hour, unwilling to give up. Now she was stuck here at some warehouse instead of a mechanic shop watching some blond girl knocking on its door. In all honesty, she thought the place looked empty and kinda creepy, but if someone came out of that door she was asking for directions right away and a big cup of water.
Macie was just returning home from being out of town for the last couple months on a small but excessive tour. 18 shows. Concerts and constant meet and greets. She was appearing in Tallahassee, Salt Lake City, Baton Rouge, Springfield, Illinois... Among other places... Well... at least 5 others. But that was all there was. However... She came home feeling thankful to come back home to Metropolis. She wasn't tired of the performing. She was loving it. But she knew that she had to come back to her family. She had a loving family and didn't want to just be away from her family for too long a time.
Lightfoot Mansion...
Jeremy: Hey Mom... Welcome home.
Macie: Hey Jeremy. How's my precious Drag Kid?
Jeremy: Good. I just spoke with Harvey. Harvey Trent... He and I have decided to start a relationship. He and i feel the same way of one another.
Macie: Does Zoey know of how both you and Harvey feel about one another?
Jeremy: I believe she does. I mean... she suspects and is near sure of the idea that Harvey and I are like very attracted to one another.
Saphiroth: *Walking over from the kitchen* Hey Mom. What's up? You finally home from performing?
Macie: For a while... Yeah. I plan to be for a while.
Saphiroth: Cool. Missed you being around. You're always on the go. All the time. But i am proud of you, Mom. You're well famous.Pretty tubular. Listened to you on the T.V the other day and damn... You were hot on stage. Any guy out there would ooze for you. Dad would say the same thing.
Macie: I know. Where's your father?
Saphiroth: He's at the Radio station doing your radio show. Holding his own as always. But he misses you. You should call him. Let him know that you're home. He'll love to hear that...
Macie: *Smiles* ...
((Is this still alive? I was going to join in, but this plot looks dead judging by the gaps between posts. Eh I'll give it a shot anyways, got nothing to lose and I'm bored. I'll be using my character Old Man Mannga, Messenger Dubote, and Divine Heir from my account.))
Black long hair spirals and turns on the backside of a tattoo dark green and littered with pink petals to match the cherry blossom against the sunset.
This tattoo belongs to no other then the Divine Heir.
It's not known, who the Divine Heir belongs to, much like that of his younger brother Dubote.
A messenger of almost but not all the gang around.
Old Man Mannga sought to help keep the peace by having a middle man among the wolves.
Wolves being each and every gang that occupied territory.
Old man Mannga was once such messenger, but old, and ... drunk, he has bestowed it upon his kin as a legacy.
Keeping their family loyal to everyone and yet, rules by no one but themselves and their own elders.
The Divine Heir has never met such a task, for, secretes kept to hidden from the surrounding gangs.
Old Man Mannga made sure of this, secrecy.
So the task was bestowed on Dubote, to finish the job, a young 23 year old and as useful as a kite on a windy day, never steady nor in one place to long.
Just like now.
Where Dubote had been calmly sitting on the railing side of the warehouse belonging to one, if not, most powerful gangs in the now.
He of course did overhear the conversation, that was what Dubote was good at, listening always, and then acting, observing, but never really doing nothing.
Dubote couldn't be touched, he was important among all the gangs, mostly the ones with most territorial control, a resource of resources.
The saying said is don't shoot the messenger.
Swinging his legs back and forth. Dubote knew Zero and Ace already, having did a few jobs for them in the past.
Dubote was only 10 the first time he met the twins.
Still, Dubote only knew what he heard by mouth and no more.
In his hand, Dobute held a letter as he stared at the two twins.
He made no needed comment on the conversation he overheard.
Instead Dubote did has he had been instructed to and hopped off the railing and set the letter down on the floor.
He never touched the twins directly, and often kept 5 feet between them and himself.
"Money ... from Father".
The family the Dubote was born in had one sad catch, the Messengers did have to pay every gang they cycled through a fee, and this gang was no different.
The white envelope lay on the flooring, sealed by Messengers signature of purple wax.
"Do you have work for me?"
Asked Dobute, his soft voice a mere whisper, lifeless in tone, but clearly alive and seeking anything else before he disappears as usual.
Black hair poking out from under his rice hat. Purple scarf holding the sign of the Messenger, yet a simple black T-shirt and brown shorts to match his brown 2 strap sandals.
Many new gangs arising question why such use for the Messengers, but many forget that once a message of vital information is put out into the web, it isn't as safe as one wish to think, nor is it easy to get rid of.
Where the Messengers had vowed and proven their history of keeping and securing special letters and words, making sure they get to where they need to at any cost.
Even if this means their own life.
This tattoo belongs to no other then the Divine Heir.
It's not known, who the Divine Heir belongs to, much like that of his younger brother Dubote.
A messenger of almost but not all the gang around.
Old Man Mannga sought to help keep the peace by having a middle man among the wolves.
Wolves being each and every gang that occupied territory.
Old man Mannga was once such messenger, but old, and ... drunk, he has bestowed it upon his kin as a legacy.
Keeping their family loyal to everyone and yet, rules by no one but themselves and their own elders.
The Divine Heir has never met such a task, for, secretes kept to hidden from the surrounding gangs.
Old Man Mannga made sure of this, secrecy.
So the task was bestowed on Dubote, to finish the job, a young 23 year old and as useful as a kite on a windy day, never steady nor in one place to long.
Just like now.
Where Dubote had been calmly sitting on the railing side of the warehouse belonging to one, if not, most powerful gangs in the now.
He of course did overhear the conversation, that was what Dubote was good at, listening always, and then acting, observing, but never really doing nothing.
Dubote couldn't be touched, he was important among all the gangs, mostly the ones with most territorial control, a resource of resources.
The saying said is don't shoot the messenger.
Swinging his legs back and forth. Dubote knew Zero and Ace already, having did a few jobs for them in the past.
Dubote was only 10 the first time he met the twins.
Still, Dubote only knew what he heard by mouth and no more.
In his hand, Dobute held a letter as he stared at the two twins.
He made no needed comment on the conversation he overheard.
Instead Dubote did has he had been instructed to and hopped off the railing and set the letter down on the floor.
He never touched the twins directly, and often kept 5 feet between them and himself.
"Money ... from Father".
The family the Dubote was born in had one sad catch, the Messengers did have to pay every gang they cycled through a fee, and this gang was no different.
The white envelope lay on the flooring, sealed by Messengers signature of purple wax.
"Do you have work for me?"
Asked Dobute, his soft voice a mere whisper, lifeless in tone, but clearly alive and seeking anything else before he disappears as usual.
Black hair poking out from under his rice hat. Purple scarf holding the sign of the Messenger, yet a simple black T-shirt and brown shorts to match his brown 2 strap sandals.
Many new gangs arising question why such use for the Messengers, but many forget that once a message of vital information is put out into the web, it isn't as safe as one wish to think, nor is it easy to get rid of.
Where the Messengers had vowed and proven their history of keeping and securing special letters and words, making sure they get to where they need to at any cost.
Even if this means their own life.
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