Steam Name - Steam ID - Character Name:

Psycho - STEAM_0:1:6725791 - Darion Maruko

Dawkter - STEAM_0:0:17824551 - Costanzo Vacanti

Rocky - STEAM_0:1:18691561 - Mikey Cucurullo

Bear - STEAM_0:1:18984209 - Alfonzo Moretti

Frozboz - STEAM_0:1:14925775 - Kenneth DeAndre

Blazing - STEAM_0:0:19911170 - Artem Alevozi

Crater - STEAM_0:0:25250275 - Alvin DeVachio

Fate - STEAM_0:1:16000397 - Donald Speirs


Reason for the switch: Our group left the city to get a chance to lay low without the threat of people in the city, and of course the CCA.



PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING: All the events detailed in this story are actually true and did actually happen In-Game. If you are one who is tempted by metagame, please don't even give yourself the temptation, and don't read it!

Thanks

Also note that a very large majority of our guns we obtained on the city and not in the outlands.

ALSO note for the pictures you're going to have to scroll them to see the entire thing. Sorry!

If required, write a detailed backstory on how your character left the outlands:

   This story, unlike others, begins in City Forty Five. This story starts in District Six, with the leader of the group, Chester Arturo, and his valued family members; Darion Maruko, a short Jamaican man, and as stereotypical as they come. Costanzo Vacanti, an Italian man, and good friends with Darion. Some would even call them partners in crime. Kenneth DeAndre who was also good friend with Darion, and they could relate to each other because they were the only black men in the group. Then there was Mikey Cucurullo. He’s generally liked by everyone in the group. Mikey, Costanzo and Darion were generally considered the “Muscle” of the group, but muscle is useless without a brain to control it.

   Chester Arturo, much older than the rest of them, was the brain at the time, and directed the group and kept them down to earth.  The rest of the “Brainy” type include; Donald Speirs, the comical character of the group, and Alfonzo Moretti. Don’t get me wrong though, they still did just as much shit as the rest of them.

   Then there was the rest of the group members; Alvin DeVachio, and Artem Alevozi. All these men listed, were the real family members, however, there were many affiliates in the group that helped them out, for a reasonable price of course. Joseph Beal, a small-time drug-pusher that sold their drugs they managed to get their hands on. Daniel Parnelle, who started as a drug-pusher like Beal, but eventually made his way up, until he came to an un-timely demise somewhere inside the City 45 Nexus.

   Now that we’ve went over all the main characters in this story, we can begin. More specifically, this story begins in the Underground Bar, in District Six, with two other characters. Lewelynn Price, and Layla Salander.

   An average built white man was beaten, and with blood pouring from his left shin, he was tied to a chair in the building belonging to the notorious District Six Saints, more commonly known as the D-6 Saints. He looked beaten, and on the verge of consciousness.

   “Y’uh fucked m’ ov’uh, Price. Y’uh fucked us all ov’uh!” Darion shouted in his fading accent at Price, as he whipped the butt of his nine millimeter pistol around, to hit him in the jaw. Price managed to let out a painful groan as he was struck, as blood dripped from his lip.

   “L-look man… I-I didn’t have a cho-choice… I didn’t want to get caught!” Price stuttered. Layla stood in the corner, with her arms crossed, watching. Darion cocked the pistol, standing along with his brothers, Vacanti on his right, wielding an MP7 threateningly, Cucurullo on his left glaring at Price, holding his SPAS-12 Shotgun.

   “Irie… I be feelin’ a lil’ generous t’day… So I’an’I gonn’uh give y’uh anod’uh chance. Y’uh tell m’ the moth’uhfuckin’ truth ‘bou’ wha’ happen an’ I tink abou’ le’in’ y’uh go.” Darion said, calming himself.

   “Alright, alright, look. Just calm down. I went into District Six with the drugs you gave me to sell. I saw a big group of CPs coming towards me, so I got inside the UCH, but just as soon as I got in there, they came and locked the doors. I knew they were going to find the drugs, so I ditched them in showers. When the CPs left, I went to go get them again, but someone else was in there and found them. I tried to get him to give them back, but he got most of them… I- I’m sorry- I tried!”

   Costanzo looked at the man, and sighed a sympathetic sigh, knowing what was likely to come. Darion shook his head.

   “So y’uh done lost ALL ‘at shit… Plus y’uh fucked ov’uh our friend Layla here…” Maruko said in a disappointed tone. Darion sat down, letting out a long exasperated sigh. After the group talked, and Layla had her turn with Price, they returned to him, still bloody and bruised in the chair. Price now seemed to be angry at us, instead of sorrowful previously. He started to yell and struggle. Maruko, Vacanti and Cucurullo stood in front of him for the last time, and gave him the chance to say his last words, but he was too furious. Arturo walked up beside Price, and put his pistol up. Maruko nodded to Chester, and no one said a word, as his shot rang out, and as Price fell limp and lifeless, the room was filled with a deafening silence. No one enjoys taking another man’s life, but Darion always said, “Power is not about using force, it’s about projecting strength.” And the Saints knew that if they wanted to stay in control, they had to show they were in control. They had to project their strength.

   The story continues weeks later, in the same place, when they were much more powerful. It is why the Saints are as powerful as they are today. They grow continuously. Costanzo and Darion were in the bar, in their morning ritual of ingesting drugs together. Whatever they could get their hands on, and lucky for them it was one of their favourites that day, Marijuana. They were passing the bong around, packing their rips, and generally enjoying life – When suddenly the hidden door slid open and Chester burst in.

   “Fuck, fuck!” Chester panicked, as he bolted the hidden door behind him, quickly running to the table. Maruko and Vacanti quickly dropped the bong, bringing their attention to him.

   “What’s wrong, Arturo?” Vacanti said, both of them with a worried look on his face.

   “I killed a unit, man. We’re FUCKED.” Chester said, now sweating profusely.

   “Shit – What th’ fuck, rasta?!” Maruko looked surprised and equally as worried now, as he got up. “The fuck happened?!”

   “It- I don’t know man. We had to do it – Me and Moretti – Fuck, FUCK! He was going to take us in man.” Chester sputtered.

   “Irie, relax, rasta. We fine, they ain’t gonn’uh find us he’uh. We gonn’uh lay low, just relax irie? We’ll get all ‘dem boys here, an’ we’un’uh be fine. Wors’ case scenario, Henrik ‘ll ha’f t’uh take us t’ ‘duh outlands.” Maruko said, trying to calm him down.

   Arturo sighed, and sat down, placing his MP7 on the table, “Yeah… You’re probably right… Let’s tell everyone else, and we have to be ready to escape if worse comes to worst.” At this, Moretti walked in, clearly as nervous as everyone else, as they explained the situation and what they were going to do.





(From left to right: Alfonzo Moretti, Costanzo Vacanti, Chester Arturo. (And Darion Maruko as picture-taker))



The Saints laid low for the next few days, but it wasn’t long before they learned their lesson, not to fuck with the CCA. A high-ranking unit stormed the bar, along with a Combine Assassin. They were all standing around inside their hideout. It was Daniel Parnelle, Darion Maruko, Chester Arturo, and Alfonzo Moretti. The assassin - who they didn’t know was an assassin at first – broke down their door, and started to shoot at them. They quickly flipped a table, and returned fire.

   “Shi’, wh’ d’ fuck?” Maruko screamed as bullets whizzed over the flipped cabinet he was taking cover behind.

   “Shit!” Parnelle screamed as he took a bullet to the waist as he dived into cover.

   “Fuckin’ bumbaclot!” Maruko cried, as the assassin had to reload. As soon as the bullets ceased to fly over his head, he propped his MP7 against the cabinet, and began to open fire, unloading his magazine, but the assassin managed to take a lot of hits, and got into cover.

   “Covering fire!” Costanzo yelled as he came up from the table, firing towards the intruder. Darion continued to suppress him as well, until his gun started to click.

   “Rasta – I’m out!” Darion cried, but just as he said this, Costanzo turned to him, and tossed him a magazine, which he fumbled with, and quickly loaded into his gun. While was reloading, neither of them were suppressing him, and the assassin began to rain bullets on them again, as they both dropped to the floor. Darion raised just his gun over his cover and began to blindly fire, bullets ricocheting and tearing up their hideout. As the firing stopped, his magazine was empty again, and he dropped his MP7, stood up, and began to reach for his pistol from his waistband as he looked at the assassin, when suddenly it hit him.

   The assassin hadn’t stopped shooting because his magazine was empty. Time almost seemed to slow down. His eyes darted from the assassin back to Costanzo. He grabbed his gun, and started to raise it as he yelled to Costanzo at the top of his lungs, “Grenade!”. The assassin pulled the pin, and began to bring his arm back, as Darion brought his pistol up. He knew he didn’t have time to think. Just do. He aimed straight for the assassin’s head, and didn’t think twice. His eyes were wide, and he was alert. He squeezed the trigger, and the bullet went straight towards his skull, bringing him down in an instant. It took them both a few seconds to realize what just happened. Darion froze still, as Costanzo rose from his cover, carefully.

   “What the fuck just ha-“


BOOM!



When Darion shot the assassin, its grenade fell beside its own body. The grenade exploded violently, destroying the bar, sending chunks of shrapnel and wooden shards all over the bar.

   They all slowly got themselves together, and tied the intruder to the table – As by some inhuman miracle, he was still barely alive. Costanzo helped Parnelle, and tried to patch him up. All the rest of them started to question the man on their table, and took his equipment which included grenades, weapons, and ammo. Little to their knowledge, it had only just begun. Soon there was a loud knock at their front door, and the familiar vocoder voice.

   “<:: Open up, and drop your weapons. You’re surrounded.”

   Everyone in the room shot each other a glance.

   “Shit…”.
     Everyone who wasn’t injured grabbed their gun and took their position, aiming their gun at the door, waiting. Suddenly there was a loud bang, and their door flew straight off it’s hinges into the room, and they all open fired on the now open doorway.

   To their surprise, no one was there, no units rushing in. They stopped firing, and kept their weapons trained on the door. Darion shot Chester a confused glance. Suddenly a primed grenade plopped down the stairs, and fell into the center of the room. In unison Chester and Darion dropped down behind their cover.

   Meanwhile, Costanzo finished patching up Parnelle, but the Combine Assassin became active now, and his augmentations now proved their worthiness. It began to fight both Parnelle and Costanzo. The unit outside began to throw grenade after grenade into the room. Costanzo and Darion tried to suppress him, but it was no use – It’s like he had a never ending supply of grenades. When he ran out of frag grenades, he started to throw flashbangs until neither of the two could hear a thing. Finally, they decided to give the unit a taste of his own medicine. Maruko vaulted his cover, and ran to the door, tossing a live grenade out the door. He heard it explode, but the unit was still alive. It soon became evident to the both of them that it was a single unit raiding them.

   After minutes of a stand still, neither side making any progress, the unit called off his assassin and challenged the leader of the D6 Saints, Chester Arturo, to hand to hand combat to settle it. Chester agreed, but trusting a CP was his first mistake. They left the bar, and fought relentlessly in the generator room next door, and the CP got his assassin to help. Chester’s boys tried to come and help him, but they were overpowered and it was too late.

   Chester was detained, and the D6 Saints started planning to break him out, but they knew it was next to impossible to break into the Nexus, and they eventually decided it wasn’t worth it. All the Saints knew that if something like this were to happen, they were to leave the city at once. A fellow named Henrik was nice enough to show Chester the way in and out of the city, and he made a map of the route.

    All of them got together, the entire group, and they were ready to leave, they had packed up all their belongings, and they waited. They waited for, if some reason, Chester were to make it out of the Nexus alive, and to their surprise, he did. However, he was not the same, everyone knew it. Even the look in his eyes. They had all heard rumours of it. Mindwiping. Chester had been mindwiped, and they knew what Chester would have wanted them to do. They all said their words for Chester, as he huddled himself on the floor scared to death, not knowing who any of them were, or what they were talking about. They finally ended his life, and Daniel Parnelle stayed behind to bury his body. Parnelle was unfortunately caught and killed, however this would be unknown to the Saints. All the Saints know is that upon their return, Parnelle was nowhere to be found.

   After all these events, they bid the city goodbye, knowing they would need to stay in the outlands for quite a while before the CPs wouldn’t be looking for them anymore. The events that followed in the outlands were few and far between compared to the city, as they don’t have near as much control on the outlands as on the city.

   They managed to come by two AR2s, which was not easy. It happened to be on their first day in the outlands. They were walking along, being very cautious of their step, as they were in foreign land without a leader. Suddenly, two men armed with these Pulse Rifles, which the D6 Saints had rarely seen, and mostly only heard of. Mikey was in a perfect location, because he happened to be climbing a tree to get a good look of the surrounding area when these men approached. He quietly climbed down the tree, and came up behind them. He stuffed the barrel of his shotgun in one of the men’s side. They all raised their weapons, and yelled at them to drop their weapons. The one who had a shotgun to his side, for reasons unknown (The Saints have pondered the thought that he may have been mentally ill, and they do feel some remorse for killing him…) whipped his AR2 around and attempted to strike Mikey with it, but of course since Mikey had a shotgun to his back, he didn’t hesitate to turn him into spaghetti.

   The man’s partner now realized he was completely fucked, as there were 8 of us, heavily armed, and one of him. They told him to drop his gun, and to defend his own life, he complied. They could have leached him for everything he had, but they felt bad for killing his friend, so they gave him some whiskey and sent him on his way.

   They now had two AR2s, with ammo. Later on they traded an AR2 for an SMG and some more ammo. The rest of the events that followed in their wake on the outlands were not as exciting. For the most part, they tried to get by. They traded for food, to keep them alive and healthy for a while. They did well, and they laid low, not causing too much trouble.




(From left to right: Darion Maruko, Mikey Cucurullo (Back), Costanzo Vacanti (Front), Kenneth DeAndre)




   They made themselves known to the locals, and became accustomed to the outlands. It wasn’t long before word of their success in and out of the city had become widely known, and The Alliance started to become threatened. However, they meant no harm to anyone in the outlands, and after a while on the outlands, they finally decided it was time to go home. They knew it wouldn’t be that easy of a trip though. Luckily they still had their map, but it was subpar to say the least.

   They went to The Alliance knowing they have a lot of supplies and traded in some weapons and ammo in exchange for food and water for the trip. After gathering all their supplies and everything they had, the D6 Saints all got together, and began their trip home.

   It wasn’t particularly difficult as they knew the route and they knew how to stay out of sight from the UU, but the closer to the city they got, the more on edge they became. At one point they were marching through the canals quietly when a Combine Chopper went by right overhead. Luckily they had time enough to hide, but it was close. From the on they were much more careful. They weren’t ready to take anymore chances like that.

   As they got closer and closer, they began to be able to hear the ominous dispatch voice in the distance. They found shelter in the canals, and they stayed and rested there for a while. They had been walking for hours. It was grungy and dirty. No one enjoyed the trip home, and the outlands weren’t that much better. They all were somewhat looking forward to going back to the city, where they had a place to sleep and to rest, and shelter. This is what fuelled them to keep going. On the entire trip home, none of them said very much to each other.

   One out of the ordinary event did occur though. When they were only but a few minutes to the entrance to the city – The same way through which they left – Mikey Cucurullo looked up to a tall building, and stood a few paces back behind everyone else. He saw a man dressed in a fancy suit, and holding a briefcase. The man looked down at Mikey, and Mikey looked up at him. The man subtly straightened his tie, before turning and walking off. Mikey didn’t mention anything of it to the rest.

   Artem nodded to Costanzo as he crouched through the garage gate that was held slightly ajar, and the rest followed. From here on out is the next chapter of their story, and perhaps an entirely different story all together. As they finally re-entered the city, Alfonzo breathed a sigh of relief, and looked over the rest of his friends, and nodded.


   “Good to be home.”


Edit: The D6 Saints recently acquired a fully detailed map of how to get into the city via the canals. We got this from Leonard Wong, the leader of The Alliance. We will ICly be using this map instead of the one we already have to get back. He also gave us a Short Wave Radio he made to keep in contact with him and inform him of the events going on inside of the city, as seen below.

Quote from: RapidJuice on February 16, 2012, 06:02:52 AM

Totally agree with this, I remember a while back seeing a picture of a loli in the canals. I just kind of, looked around, said "Wow." to myself ICly and walked away.

All the while I said like "Stop it, boner." and he was like "no."

How about disabling sprays all together? Promoting this kind of unseriousness I will not tolerate.

What do you all think?

I along with a lot of others use IC sprays a lot.

Well if you make the authorisation application for this food source and inform the CCA units in question of the situation then we can stop wasting our breath on this. Let the administrators decide what to do about this.

Honestly I don't know why you keep bringing up authorizations. You DON'T need authorizations to eat food, and an administrator doesn't need to decide anything. If I literally needed administrator auths to eat food ICly, then that would be literally taking it to the level of you need administrator auths to roleplay.

Take away the malnourishment,

CP's get training, with not only weaponry, but hand-to-hand combat, and get supplied things that Enhance the body as well

And you? A CWU lemonade, a cup of cold noodles, and (mabye) a melon, and you concider that being well-fed and more nourishment than CP's?

/lolrant

At no point in my thread did I say that I should be able to take down 20 CPs with my bare hands simply because I eat a good breakfast. My rant was about CPs assuming all citizens are malnourished. Please, Kom'rk, next time read the OP before replying. Thanks

Had you read the OP, you would have read that my character eats a healthy breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I for one do not consider CWU lemonade, a cup of cold noodles and a melon a healthy breakfast, lunch and dinner. Again, please read the OP before posting. Thanks for trying though, bud.

The only excuse for nourishment for citizens is either A) illegal food suppliers. Or B) non perishable food cache. For A, you have to find one ICly ran by a real character who has auths to run it. I dont think there are any right now. For B, its extremely rare to find a can of food that hasnt been eaten let alone a cache of food. In outlands its more likely as there is lower traffic and a much more wide open space. Also, there are transport vehicles on the sodes of roads that at one time transported food. In the city, these were either blown up by combine or have been depleted by the high traffic citizens.

TL;DR you need a strong source of food to become nourished. There arent enough non-perishable foods left in s6 to provide you with this and there are no food supplier capable of providing you with enough food. Move to outlands if you want to be nourished. Even still, you have to find food.

I understand your point, Statua, and yes, a very large majority of citizens are malnourished, however my character DOES have a strong food source, as I stated my character not only ICly eats breakfast lunch and dinner, I actually consume the actual OOC item.

Well Psycho,


The basis for the malnourishment argument is the canonical knowledge that most citizens (Some being exceptions) are only fed U.U. branded food that includes chemical additives that only supply enough nutrients to survive, nothing more. The reason for this is the reason you are bringing it up, the U.U. wants to keep all citizens weak and helpless in order to better control the populace, in fact, malnourishment is one of the Union's best weapons on Earth, if you keep a man malnourished, his will to fight will follow, and if you supply said man with barely enough sustenance to live, and remind him that even that small amount of food can be taken away at the first sign of resistance, he would be pretty complacent, wouldn't he? Of course you could find some food in old, abandoned places, even grow a small amount, but that is HIGHLY unlikely.
However, if you supply a good Auth App for a food source of some sort, and inform the units of your situation, I think the units would understand and react as desired.

/counter-rant

I agree, I failed to mention in my OP that yes, a very large majority of citizens are severely malnourished, and yes, for good reason and on purpose. However, I don't need auths to not be malnourished. I eat lots of food ICly, therefore I am not malnourished. To suggest that I need auths to eat food, is to suggest that you need auths to roleplay.

It has no purpose other than taking up space in your inventory. This is why you will see a lot of suitcases laying around on the ground.

To all CPs, please stop assuming every citizen is malnourished. Please stop using your assumption of the fact that the citizen you're RPing with is malnourished so you can metagame. My character for one, has lots of food ICly and OOCly, and eats healthy meals, breakfast, lunch, and supper. I am not malnourished, if anything I'm more nourished than the average CP. So for the love of god, stop assuming every citizen is malnourished. I realize MOST citizens are not malnourished, but every time a CP tries to like smack me to the ground and says "yeah ur malnourished buddy feel my wrath" it makes me want to reach through my computer and strangle them to death.

End rant.

I dunno if it's a great idea for all this info to be public. You know, metagaming n stuff.