WELCOME TO THE END OF ERAS / MEETING (9/30)
#1
CHARLIE "LUCKY" LUCIANO
and i won't feel a thing — BIOGRAPHY
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It was time. Charlie felt as if he had been waiting his whole life for this moment, that this was his destiny. Was he the fucking ruler of England? No, but the Badlands was one of the three biggest groups in the entire region. As far as he knew, this group had been established for ages, ever since the power had been cut off, and now it was his turn to take hold of the reigns of leadership. The closest he had ever gotten to leadership was running the small street gang that consisted of him and his buddies as a teenager, but even that had fallen apart eventually. This, though? This was Charlie's chance to seize true power. If he had control over the survivors here, then he could accomplish anything. He would restore the Badlands to it's true potential, to make Flintlock Lodge, the Northstar District, and any other loose groups and loners out in the land tremble at the very mention of their name. They wouldn't fail. He would make absolute sure of it.

Charlie donned one of his more formal outfits for this meeting- a gray pinstripe suit over a collared white button-up shirt, also complete with a black and blue tie. His dark brown hair was slicked back against his head, and his brown eyes were as lethal sharp as daggers as he gazed across his new domain. The Italian man stood at the top of a set of stairs, the cool and stormy breeze brushing against him. It looked as if it would rain later, similar to yesterday, the day of Tatiana's murder. But, as with all storms, they would pass. The Badlands would get through this. "Badlands," Charlie began. His voice was deep, complimented by his prominent New York accent. "As we all know, things haven't been good." That was a bit of an understatement, but he would rather not dive into everything all at once. "And, wit' the death of Tatiana, things have taken a turn for th' worse." There was really no emotion present on his features. Whether it was one of his closest friends or his brother or anyone else, it wouldn't be like him to express his feelings over those matters. He was running a meeting, not a funeral. Charlie was strong, and he needed to prove it to the Badlanders. He wasn't going to dwell much on the subject, because it was best to make way for the future.

"Nonetheless, we can't let this weaken us. I know that we, as a group, have th' potential to do great things." Charlie spoke to the crowd, his eyes sweeping across the small amount of people that had gathered before him. He blinked and took a step forward, declaring, "I'll be taking full control of the city, and from now on, you can refer to me as your leader." The man paused for a moment. He knew there would be mixed reactions- grief, anger, happiness. They could keep their personal opinions about him to themselves, but if they spoke out against him in public? Belittling his very existence? A bullet would be blasted through their skull. He dared them to do anything, his stare burning into the individual faces of the Badlanders.

After a moment of silence, he assumed that they had all gotten the message, and he moved on, "First order of business: rank changes. The Top Dog and the Proxy are gonna replaced by the Boss and the Underboss." If anyone knew how the mafia worked, then surely they would know what Charlie was getting at. He had grown up in the heart of Manhattan, after all, where the mob always held a strong presence. He had heard stories of the famous men, the killings, the robberies. He aspired to be like them, but in a world where there was no organization, how could he? This was Charlie's chance. He could find order in the chaos. "I'm also introducin' the Caporegimes, the Guards, the Vanguards, and the Soldiers. There'll be up to three Capos; they'll be in charge of enforcin' the rules and overseein' the raids and trainings. Their job is to make sure that the Guards and the Soldiers are trained and doin' what they're supposed to. The Guards will be high positions and led by the Capos. They're the Soldiers that have proved themselves and stand out above the regular Soldiers. Vanguards are gonna be in the middle, a semi-high rank, if you will. The Vanguards are those who show potential for future promotions. Soldiers are replacin' the Grunts as a whole." He felt that with a more organized structure, they could get more done.

Charlie glanced around. Now, onto promotions and demotions, though there was honestly more of the latter. "Everyone is demoted, considerin' nobody has been stickin' out enough for a promotion." How could he rely on these guys if they didn't prove that they were hardworking? However, he couldn't have all of his ranks bare. He needed someone to lean back onto if anything went wrong (he hoped that nothing bad would happen to him like Tatiana, but it was always a possibility). "Except for Dylan." His eyes fixated on the other man. "You've proved your loyalty to the group. Therefore, I'm makin' you my Underboss." That is, if he chose to accept. If not him, then nobody at all. He wasn't going to promote anyone recklessly.

Now, to move onto politics. They were important and had to be addressed, especially now. "Now, we all know about the Northstar District." The name of the enemy group had apparently been written in Tatiana's own blood at the scene of the crime. Either the Northerner wrote it or Tatiana did, and there was no denying it. There would be perfect reason for the other group to want their leader dead. "I want their heads to roll as much as you do, but we ain't attackin' them yet. We don't gotta' lotta' members, and if we're outnumbered, then we'll all get killed out there. That's why we're gonna focus on recruiting new members and training. I want everyone to put in their best effort ova' the next couple a' weeks, because we ain't gonna let those Northstar bastards off the hook. We gotta' give 'em what they deserve."

With one last look over the crowd, Charlie gave a single nod of his head. There was really nothing else for him to say. "You are all dismissed. Any questions, you come talk to me." The New Yorker told them.

The future was theirs.

// OOC note - whew, hey guys! I'm pumped to be doing this. Here's a summary if you need it:
- Over the next couple of weeks, we're going to be mainly focusing on activity and drawing in new members, so feel free to advertise and such! I'll be holding HP tryouts as well. I'll probably put up a suggestions thread for discussing changes, additions, etc.
- Charlie is the new leader
- The new ranks are: Boss, Underboss, Caporegimes, Guards, Vanguards, and Soldiers. Refer to the post for their specific duties c:
- Everyone is demoted except for Dylan, who is promoted to Underboss if he accepts
- We'll be preparing for a future raid on ND but not right away because of the lack of members/training
- Please PM me for any questions!!
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#psychosocial.


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THERE'S NO RETURN FROM WHERE I'VE BEEN
❝ TRIED TO PRETEND THAT I'M AROUND . . .
————————— BIOGRAPHY / FORMER BOSS OF THE BADLANDS
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#2
[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width:500px;font-size:9.3pt; line-height:15px; color:black;"][font=arial]Dylan was grateful for Charlie's leader-like qualities at times like this. He had really not wanted to lead and had purposefully stayed on the down-low after Tatiana's death, mostly out of sadness and lack of motivation, but still nevertheless, he was glad the other man had chosen the option. Charlie bled authority and power; if anyone deserved to lead this group, it was him. Dylan was more of a behind the scenes guy which was fine by him, he enjoyed nobody knowing his business. The tall boy approached the meeting with quick steps, surrounding himself with NPC's the minute he could.

The news of demoting everyone wasn't surprising but his promotion sure was. He could still remember being a Grunt for years on end, satisfied with amounting to nothing, but now... Now he had worked his way up gradually and it was hard not to feel a bit of pride. Maybe he did belong in the spotlight, even if it was Charlie's shadow. "I accept, obviously." Dylan responded after a few moments of thought. He offered him a quick nod of respect, heart pounding in his chest as the list of upcoming responsibilities weighed down on him. When was the last time the Badlands had any sort of Deputy slot filled? He couldn't remember; the whole of Tatiana's reign it had been empty, leaving him with zero guidance on what to do. Oh well, he could wing it just like everything else he did. "Thank you." Charlie the Boss and Dylan the Underboss. Had a nice ring to it, he thought.

As for the war preparations against Northstar, Dylan was ready for whatever the universe threw at him. His hand was healing slowly and his bullet graze even faster -- within a week he'd be ready to help even more than he had before, which wasn't a lot, but still.

// ahh thank you sm!! and congratulations on becoming leader : ))

[spoiler=I CAN THANK YOU FOR HOW STRONG I HAVE BECOME ✦ TAGS, UPDATED SEPT 30]GENERAL. Wrap me up in Chanel inside my coffin
& Dylan Phillip Hearst
& 19 years old | Born December 22nd | Capricorn
& Councilman of the Badlands
& Originally from Toronto, Canada | Often speaks with a British accent
& Suffers from severe Pyrophobia (fear of fire) from a past trauma
& Identifies as male | Biologically male | He/him

APPEARANCE. Might go to Hell and there ain't no stopping
& 6'1 teenage male | Skinny and slightly underweight
& Physical health: 90% | Broken right hand/wrist and grazed ribs from a gunshot wound
& Hazel eyes | Brown hair | Scars across back from abuse
& Faceclaim is Ivan Martinez | REFERENCE
& Pierced ears | 2 finger tattoos REF and REF
& Dylan's mangled right hand resembles something from a horror movie more than real life. The limb is practically unusable and sometimes covered with a bandage, sometimes not. Most Badlanders are used to the ugly sight by now.
& WARDROBE REFERENCE

RELATIONSHIPS. Might be a sinner and I might be a saint
& Daisy Hearst + NPC father
& Twins with Anya (now goes by Samantha, Dylan is unaware of this)
& Bisexual biromantic | Single | ½ of ___
& Will react negatively to motherly/fatherly actions directed at him but loves physical interactions such as hugging and holding hands
& Has no problem in meeting new people but its impossible to get any personal information about him or his past

BATTLE TAGS. Sweet little baby in a world full of pain
& Very hard difficulty with weapons | Medium in hand-to-hand
& Skilled with guns and throwing stars/knives
& Attack in bold #cc0000 or ignored
& No maiming/death. PM [member=66]Wishy[/member] for capture plots
& Peaceful actions may be powerplayed


[align=center][div style="font-size:14.4pt;line-height:.9;color:#000;font-family:arial black;padding:4px"]HEART MADE OF GLASS, MY MIND OF STONE
TEAR ME TO PIECES, SKIN AND BONE [color=transparent]— ——-

HELLO, WELCOME HOME [color=transparent]— ———-—-————--
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