Voltus_Ventus Member
The Voltusiest Ventus
STATUS: Happy Birthday, I hope you’re gonna have a good day today. 3 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 26 days ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 2659 (0.59 / day)
- VMs: 2
-
Username history
- Voltus_Ventus 12 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Neziul,
KrystalKleo
Status
Recent Statuses
3 yrs ago
Current
Happy Birthday, I hope you’re gonna have a good day today.
3
likes
7 yrs ago
Word of the Day: Overcome.
3
likes
7 yrs ago
Also checked out Myriad Reality, I think they are trying to build some kind of computer consciousness over there via IC posts.
7 yrs ago
Get ready for an unusually low volume of likes then, you so-and-so.
3
likes
7 yrs ago
Can someone ironically praise me please? Thank you!
3
likes
Bio
I’ve moved. I don’t have the same number anymore.
Most Recent Posts
In
Aragonia, An Open-worlded, Plot & Character-driven RP.
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Yes! I want.
Good times indeed *rocks back and forth on rocking chair*
Good times, huh?
Count me in.
Just as he brought the cup to his lips he froze.
"Do you work for Bracco?" the woman next to him whispered to me, clearly not wanting to attract the attention. Taking a gulp slowly he calculated what path he should take, lie or say yes? Putting the cup on the counter he looked into it's contents, not wanting to look at the woman and feel obliged to answer the question
"I don't see how it's your business, miss" he replied as he picked the glass up and took another sip, he could have been crueler in his answer, much crueler but he wasn't that kind of person so he didn't, instead just concentrating on his drink and how it bubbled but he felt compelled to carry on conversing with the woman, "but I will listen to what you have to say.", spinning the barstool his heart skipped a beat when he saw her, expecting a 40 year old tart looking for a way into Bracco's pants he wasn't ready for her. He reached for his cup quickly to take a swig, trying to hide his expression from her.
"Do you work for Bracco?" the woman next to him whispered to me, clearly not wanting to attract the attention. Taking a gulp slowly he calculated what path he should take, lie or say yes? Putting the cup on the counter he looked into it's contents, not wanting to look at the woman and feel obliged to answer the question
"I don't see how it's your business, miss" he replied as he picked the glass up and took another sip, he could have been crueler in his answer, much crueler but he wasn't that kind of person so he didn't, instead just concentrating on his drink and how it bubbled but he felt compelled to carry on conversing with the woman, "but I will listen to what you have to say.", spinning the barstool his heart skipped a beat when he saw her, expecting a 40 year old tart looking for a way into Bracco's pants he wasn't ready for her. He reached for his cup quickly to take a swig, trying to hide his expression from her.
This was my stab it, I thought it was original or atleast creative.
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/60532/posts/ooc
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/60532/posts/ooc
Finally! First post done!
The sun had started making it's move to the horizon, dipping slowly across the sky to touch the waters of the sea beyond. Enzo was sat in the drivers seat of the car, it was a modest car and it was meant to be, the gang didn't want to attract attention which was understandable, there were a lot of people out there who wouldn't mind taking a pot shot at a Bracco or associate for a lucky chance of hitting them. He was parked out side one of the boss' numerous houses, this one a rather tasteful brick house by the seaside, Enzo was there because he was driving around a broad who was looking Mr Bracco, something about a son and favor, Enzo wasn't too worried, his "job" was to drive people around but his job was to gain relevant information and what hewas doing didn't seem relevant.
He'd been waiting outside for what had to be half an hour, he was sure the boss wasn't home, his guards weren't there, nor was his car -the only town car of a different make the Bracco's had. Decideding to check it out he shut the car off and got out, shutting the door behind him and making sure it was locked. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he walked across the lawn towards the front door of the home, at the bottom of the stairs in a crumpled heap was the woman, sitting on the bottom step crying her eyes out.
"Miss," Began Enzo, "I think we should leave.", he stood above her weeping form patiently, after a few moments of sobbing she nodded and raised her hand for his help. Holding it gently he pulled her up and walker her over to the car, walking her around to the passenger door instead of the backseats and opening the door for her. Shutting the door as she entered he walked around and took a seat in the drivers position and started the car, pulling out of the driveway the rest of the trip was done in silence, him concentrating on the road and the other woman resting her head on the window giving occasional directions to her house. After arriving at her apartment and exchanging awkward goodbyes he drove off, feeling the need to wet his whistle before he got back to the station and gave a breifing of today's goings ons.
Rich's place, he knew his way there like it was tattooed on the back of his hand, pulling the car over infront of the drinkery he shut the engine off and got out, happy to be out of the metal coffin. Entering the bat his ears were deafened by the noises of laughing, shouting and conversation, it was much more packed then usual, new faces mixed in with the old ones, striding over to the bar he plinks himself down in an empty seat by a brown haired woman.
"Tonic." he called to the bartender as he rolled up his sleeves.
"And?" replied the man behind the counter waiting for the other part, like gin of something.
"Just the tonic." said Enzo with a smile, he wasn't much of a drinker, between the law and his ability to be inebriated faster then the average snail he really didn't find it enjoyable. Picking up his drink he took a sip and got a bit loose after a day of driving and drama.
He'd been waiting outside for what had to be half an hour, he was sure the boss wasn't home, his guards weren't there, nor was his car -the only town car of a different make the Bracco's had. Decideding to check it out he shut the car off and got out, shutting the door behind him and making sure it was locked. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he walked across the lawn towards the front door of the home, at the bottom of the stairs in a crumpled heap was the woman, sitting on the bottom step crying her eyes out.
"Miss," Began Enzo, "I think we should leave.", he stood above her weeping form patiently, after a few moments of sobbing she nodded and raised her hand for his help. Holding it gently he pulled her up and walker her over to the car, walking her around to the passenger door instead of the backseats and opening the door for her. Shutting the door as she entered he walked around and took a seat in the drivers position and started the car, pulling out of the driveway the rest of the trip was done in silence, him concentrating on the road and the other woman resting her head on the window giving occasional directions to her house. After arriving at her apartment and exchanging awkward goodbyes he drove off, feeling the need to wet his whistle before he got back to the station and gave a breifing of today's goings ons.
Rich's place, he knew his way there like it was tattooed on the back of his hand, pulling the car over infront of the drinkery he shut the engine off and got out, happy to be out of the metal coffin. Entering the bat his ears were deafened by the noises of laughing, shouting and conversation, it was much more packed then usual, new faces mixed in with the old ones, striding over to the bar he plinks himself down in an empty seat by a brown haired woman.
"Tonic." he called to the bartender as he rolled up his sleeves.
"And?" replied the man behind the counter waiting for the other part, like gin of something.
"Just the tonic." said Enzo with a smile, he wasn't much of a drinker, between the law and his ability to be inebriated faster then the average snail he really didn't find it enjoyable. Picking up his drink he took a sip and got a bit loose after a day of driving and drama.
Zmerr said
Sounds good to me. I'll add him to the list when you finish him.
Done!
Name: Enzo Tuscini
Gender: Male
Age: 29
Personality: Polite, Respectful and Humble, he tried not to be a rude person, however that changes when he is fighting, becoming dominant and large in battle yet eerily calm, making his gang and the others know that he is no pushover. He is quite the smiler, not a grin or a mad face breaking lip curl but a small smile, making him quite sociable, even in the most uncomfortable situations, even if his smile drops he would never show negative attitude.
Bio: Born to two relatively poor parents he is a second generation Italian in America, his parents being the first generation, making the trip over to the New World in a the steamy guts of a cramped, trans-atlantic liner. Born in 1891, he was raised in the suburban sprawl, exposed to it's grey, gritty glory. His parents never did have enough money to give him a proper education, opting to send him to much cheaper night school, surrounded by people in their 30-40s trying to pick up education while they still have time he learnt that there were some problems in society. Instead of going of to normal 'day school' he and his father along with some other Italians piled into the back of truck and were driven to the farms on the outskirts of town, working long days under the sun to earn a Dime between us a week, which was enough -barely. After graduating school Enzo persued a career in law enforcment, becoming a police officer at 20, about a year later in 1912 while walking the streets his partner Ed was shot, he knew him since night school, though he was a good 20 years older he was as fit as Enzo, claiming that the farm air back west made him strong, though the stories annoyed him at the time, Enzo grew to miss them after the shooting of his friend. A few months afterwards he was given the opportunity by the FBI to find the killer who had apparently been part of the Opium black market, after landing the ass in prison for life the Feds were impressed with his work and offered him a deal he couldn't refuse, working under cover and job after job brought him to where he is now, deep undercover in the clockworks of an Italian Alchohol cartel, The Bracco's. Though not as a thug, which he thought he would be but as a chauffeud, driving people around and making pleasant conversation.
Appearance:
Gender: Male
Age: 29
Personality: Polite, Respectful and Humble, he tried not to be a rude person, however that changes when he is fighting, becoming dominant and large in battle yet eerily calm, making his gang and the others know that he is no pushover. He is quite the smiler, not a grin or a mad face breaking lip curl but a small smile, making him quite sociable, even in the most uncomfortable situations, even if his smile drops he would never show negative attitude.
Bio: Born to two relatively poor parents he is a second generation Italian in America, his parents being the first generation, making the trip over to the New World in a the steamy guts of a cramped, trans-atlantic liner. Born in 1891, he was raised in the suburban sprawl, exposed to it's grey, gritty glory. His parents never did have enough money to give him a proper education, opting to send him to much cheaper night school, surrounded by people in their 30-40s trying to pick up education while they still have time he learnt that there were some problems in society. Instead of going of to normal 'day school' he and his father along with some other Italians piled into the back of truck and were driven to the farms on the outskirts of town, working long days under the sun to earn a Dime between us a week, which was enough -barely. After graduating school Enzo persued a career in law enforcment, becoming a police officer at 20, about a year later in 1912 while walking the streets his partner Ed was shot, he knew him since night school, though he was a good 20 years older he was as fit as Enzo, claiming that the farm air back west made him strong, though the stories annoyed him at the time, Enzo grew to miss them after the shooting of his friend. A few months afterwards he was given the opportunity by the FBI to find the killer who had apparently been part of the Opium black market, after landing the ass in prison for life the Feds were impressed with his work and offered him a deal he couldn't refuse, working under cover and job after job brought him to where he is now, deep undercover in the clockworks of an Italian Alchohol cartel, The Bracco's. Though not as a thug, which he thought he would be but as a chauffeud, driving people around and making pleasant conversation.
Appearance:
© 2007-2026