 |
|
Title: |
|
Sleuth
|
Experience: |
|
340120 |
Archetype: |
|
Very Tough |
Age: |
|
6922 days |
Gender: |
|
male |
Background: |
|
Reformed Burglar |
Sleuth Theme: |
|
Shady Character |
Last Login: |
|
Jun-22-2007 |
Account Status: |
|
Inactive
|
Subscription Status: |
|
Unsubscribed |
| |
Community: |
|
|
|
|
|
Equipment
Completed Missions
-
Packages Delivered:
1
-
Overdue Books Returned:
1
-
Nemeses Captured:
0
-
Secret Plans Revealed:
0
-
Artifacts Unearthed:
0
-
Journal Pages Found:
0
-
Brass Rings Won:
0
Detective Biography
FT/Lon/+1
Seven years... it was seven long, hard years since I last stepped foot on the ground as a free man. In prison you imagine that freedom will make the grass greener, the sky clearer, the birds sing more beautifully. Yet when I stepped out of the joint six months ago the only thing that had changed was me...
Before I was sent up the river I was just a young punk who thought he wanted to be a gangster. Growing up poor and Italian, all of us neighborhood kids looked to the Cosa Nostra mobsters as though they were Gods. We wore cheaply made Zoot Suits and would skip school to steal from the local stores.
I had gone under the radar for a few years until the fateful night that my brother Anthony came home with something both new and terrifying - a small, rusted handgun he had bought off of some local fence. That night Anthony decided that we would move up in the world. He said he knew of an old butcher who kept his life savings in the safe at his store. We were going to go there before he closed and hold him up. It was a simple plan, so simple that I was immediately suspicious. Anthony was always wilder than me, but I had a sixth sense when it came to danger - and at that moment my sixth sense was screaming to me that this was a bad idea.
I tried to convince Anthony not to do it, but older brothers have a way of making younger brothers do what they want them to. That evening we went to the store just before closing. When the last customer left, Anthony and I walked up to the counter. The old butcher was a fat, sweaty man, with greasy black hair and crooked teeth. He asked us what we needed, and Anthony told him three pounds of hamburger. When the butcher came back up with the meat he was staring down the barrel of Anthony?s gun.
"Give us what's in the safe and no one will get hurt." The fat man's sweat began to pour off of him, his hands in the air. As he led us to the office in back a voice inside my head screamed, "RUN!", but my feet kept moving forward.
Once we got into the office, the butcher got on his knees and began to open the safe. Anthony was all smiles, and he turned to me and said, "See, baby brother? No problem at all. You shouldn't worr.."
BOOM!!!
My brother's head exploded into a mess of bone and flesh. The butcher had pulled a sawn-off shotgun from out of the safe and killed Anthony right in front of me. I couldn't move, couldn't hear, couldn't even think. After what seemed like years I finally saw the butcher aiming the gun at me. His lips were moving but my ears were ringing too loudly to hear what he was saying. Anthony lay on the floor at my feet, the rusted gun still in his hand.
The months after that still blur together. Soon I was prisoner #24601. Anthony and I had gone in to steal a small fortune, but all I got was a dead brother and lifetime of guilt. But now that I'm free, I'm doing my damndest to bury the latter.
|
|
Politics
Order o Socrates:
Poor(-3)
Arcanum Brthrhd:
Poor(-3)
Cosa Nostra:
Good(10)
Eastern Triads:
Poor(-3)
Circle of Light:
Good(10)
Green Hand:
Poor(-2)
The Tea Steepers:
Neutral(0)
Shangri La Tigers:
Neutral(0)
Contacts
Banker (New York)
Bartender (London)
Barber (London)
Stage Manager (Shanghai)
Calligraphist (Shanghai)
Waiter (Delhi)
Arch Villains
None Caught
Books Collected
The Mystery of Marie Roget
Edgar Allan Poe
|
