Menewsha Avatar Community - Stockholm Syndrome

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Stockholm Syndrome

A Private Roleplay for Clorissa & Bowie

Jesse

The names Jesse Enzio Bianchi.
The name of my family is Bianchi.
I am Twenty-Six Years of Age.
The doc says I'm Six Foot Two and weigh One Hundred and Sixty-Five pounds.
He would describe me as; cunning, charming, devious, down-to-earth, strong-willed, independent, and confident.
Trade ya for; smoking, cigarettes, guns, cleanliness, order, power, being in charge, feeling above most, chocolate, books, shoes, cats, and enclosed spaces.
But you can keep paperwork, shellfish, being made the fool, open spaces, no oneness, having nothing to do, dogs, and being the loser.

Anthony

The names Anthony James Kartel.
The name of my family is Luciano.
I am Twenty Y/O.
The doc says I'm Five-Foot Nine Inches and weigh One Hundred and thirty-two pounds.
He would describe me as; obedient, loyal, compassionate, trustworthy, quiet, vengeful, tough, straight-forward, and courteous.
Trade ya for; orders, taking orders, doing things for people, biscuits, silence, sureness, jazz music, jazz dancing, being by the side of his master, and being praised.
But you can keep conflict, making my uppers angry, upsetting the master, endangerment of the master, disorganization, unsureness, mystery, last minute changes, sickness, and being uninformed.

These profiles are to be read as though the character had verbally responded to an interview.

Name: I'm Benedetto Luciano. They call me Benne.
Age: 19
http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3189/...ed706aa8d2.jpg
Height: 5'11
Weight: 160
Personality: My father tells me that I'm very introverted; quiet and polite for the most part. Though, I do like to party sometimes. I see myself as generous - always willing to share. And slightly sadistic, if you've angered me.
Likes: Being a part of the mafia, fine cigars, red wine, being my father's son, comical people, cats, and all art forms
Dislikes: Gin, coffee, loud people, drunks that cannot control themselves, hookers, the Bianchi family.

Name: Mama named me Salvatore Bianchi.
Age: I'm 22 and not getting any younger.
http://theufcresults.com/wp-content/...go_sanchez.jpg
Height: 6'1
Weight: 200 pounds of muscle.
Personality: People call me a pessimist, but really, y'know, I'm just realistic. I think logically, and help out others when it's beneficial to me as well.
Likes: Thinking carefully, dressing well, filet mignon, mama's lasagna, and knocking out baddies.
Dislikes: When people fuck with me or my family, overly cheery people, the ocean, cats, ugly women

- - Those dirty little rats. They really thought that they would get away with this? Hmp. They musta been real’ high on that horse ‘a theirs to think they were gonna get away with a stunt like this. Jonny B. was in on everythin’. They didn’t think that Jesse E. of the Bianchi family was really gonna leave himself that unguarded when he made a deal like that? But to shoot the informant… those little rats were gonna pay big time for this. It was all a matter of pulling it off.
    Jesse Bianch, head of the Bianchi family, currently resided in New York City, USA. He had been sent to meet with a certain person for information on a drug deal that was starting to cut in on his business. The drug deal wasn’t even that great—they were fake. They were like, sugar pills but worse because they poisoned people enough to put them in a coma that looked like nothing more than some bodily mishap. No evidence left behind—and the guys would clean ‘em out, but those rats, the Luciano family.. they killed the informant with the information on the dealer’s whereabouts. There was absolutely no doubt in Jesse’s mind that the Luciano’s were in cahoots with these drug dealers in some way; and until he got that information—and his revenge—Jesse wasn’t going to stop.
    
    The brunette sat at the head of the large table in their headquarter building. A very nicely dressed hotel meeting room; one of the finest hotels to exist in the states right now of course—it offered the best privacy for meetings like this and it kept up the appearance. The brunette head was dressed in a completely clean, white suit. Sometimes known as Bianchi the Good because he wore mostly white—or had the color on his person that confused people for him being a good person, or an angel; though that wasn’t the case too often. His elbow’s sat on the shiny, glossed over wooden table and his fingers interlaced in front of his face as his blue eyes looked about the room at all the members at the table. ”Our informant on the latest deal had been shot last night. He was found this morning in condition too disgusting to speak of or we would disgrace him. We have strong reason to believe the Luciano family is behind this and that they are tied to the recent drug scandals, deaths, and mass coma’s that are taking place as of late. Currently, my right hand and I are planning our next move, but input from the group would be nice for consideration. Also, we wanted to give our informant the respect he deserved by giving a silent moment.” Here is where Jesse’s highly accented, deep voice stopped. He lowered his head and closed his eyes for a moment.
    
    The Italian was quite religious, but not enough to make him quite the family business. He believed there was as God that judged all, and he believed that the informant was a good enough man and had the right virtues to go wherever that God intended for him to be. After a complete 60 seconds, the leader rose his head and opened his eyes once more. ”Concerns, ideas, information, and questionings concerning the situation at hand are what is expected of you today. Please hold no restraint for it will help us grow as a family.” Jesse said loud, strongly, but in control before his head slightly turned to look at his blood line, ”Salvatore, have you anything to start us with?” He questioned giving the floor and complete attention of the table to the man that was his brother.
    
    It was not to say that Jesse completely trusted his brother. Jesse didn’t trust anyone, except for his right hand, but it was moments like this that really brought his distrust out into his head. Where the paranoia really struck in and he worked much harder to stay calm and in control and not start getting suspicious of every MFer that surrendered him. His right hand… was the person that helped him deal with it.