Frankie C. Crocetti
Nov 27, 2013 0:06:12 GMT -7
Post by Frankie Crocetti on Nov 27, 2013 0:06:12 GMT -7
Francesco Carmello Crocetti
"Nice work you did. You're gonna go far, kid."
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Full Name - Francesco Carmello Crocetti
Nicknames/Alias - Frankie, Blue Eyes, Blue
Age - 22
Date of Birth - June 12, 2497
Place of Birth - Persephone
Gender - male
Sexual Orientation - Heterosexual
Affiliation - Syndicate
Occupation -Enforcer for the Starship Supertrade on Persephone
Play-By - Bradley James
Build - Muscular
Height & Weight - 6' 194 lbs
Hair - Blonde, Short-Mid length, Messy
Eyes - Blue
Unique Features - A small stab wound in his lower left abdomen. Other than that, I guess his eyes are really bright?
Dressing Style - Casual/Relaxed
Other - He usually has a vague aura of smugness about him. Because he's kind of a prat.
Likes - His dog, his job, getting into fights, spiced rum, getting that cash money
Dislikes - Business owners who are late on their payments, rival soldiers, other organizations trying' to muscle in on the boss's turf, stuck up rich people, snakes, clowns
Quirks/Habits - Futzes with his hair when he's nervous, smoker
Fears - Snakes, Doing hard time, Snakes, and clowns. Oh, did I mention snakes?
Secrets -He was almost a papa; He's absolutely, mind numbingly terrified of snakes
Strengths - Intimidating others, disregard for the property of others, disregard for the well being of others, loyal, determined
Weaknesses - Intimacy issues, a lack of charm, his sarcastic nature, his lack of book smarts, over confidence, his family
Talents/Special Abilities - Swings a mean baseball bat/lead pipe/etc. ..., handy with a switchblade knife, keeping calm under pressure
Aspirations - To increase the Syndicate's influence, and by extension, his own, care for his mother and little brother
Overall Personality - Frankie is a strong willed and hard headed youth. When given a task, he'll see it through to completion every time, no matter what it is. He isn't the smartest as far as book learnin' goes, but he possesses a certain street savior faire. He tends to treat regular people and the few criminals in positions lower than his own (such as package boys) with a slight sense of arrogant superiority, but underneath the tough exterior, he is a decent kid. He is a brash man, whose Plan A for most situations is "Punch it", with Plan B being "Punch it harder".
Father - Antonio Crocetti (Died at Age 33 in 2510)
Mother - Maria Crocetti (Age 47)
Siblings - Vincenzo (Vinnie) Crocetti (Age 12)
Other Significant People - Giovanni Clemenza: Leader of the Aces
Pets - Sammy, a four year old German Shepherd
Your History - Frankie was born in the slums of Persephone to Antonio and Maria Crocetti. As a young boy, he spent most of his time at the deli his parents owned. He began schooling at the age of five, but he never quite had a knack for it. His grades were awful, and he failed the second grade. He spent more time in the administrator’s office for fighting than he spent in class. His father was killed by a hit and run driver when the boy was twelve years old. The deli suffered for a while after his death, as Maria now had to run it by herself, as well as raise two sons. The loss of his father affected young Frankie very deeply. He cut classes more frequently and started running with the wrong crowd. Vices became an escape for him. Smoking and drinking made up most of it, but as he got older, his… “interests” expanded. At fourteen, he knocked up Natalie Lawson, the girl he was “dating”. Natalie had a miscarriage, and refused to speak to Frankie afterward. From then on, he avoided true relationships. By the time he was fifteen, he had dropped out of school entirely and taken in with a small fry criminal element. He ran with the Aces, a small gang based on 11th Street and run by Giovanni Clemenza. They had a small territory that consisted of eight square blocks, with 8th street being the far side of their turf. At first, he did small tasks for the gang, including package deliveries and message running. By sixteen, he was put to work on petty theft jobs, and by nineteen he had his own small crew, shaking down business owners and protecting the Aces’ turf. Things were going pretty smooth. Well, as smooth as gang life could go.That all changed when the Fire Nation attacked.
That would all change soon enough.
April, 2517.
It was business as usual for the Aces. Frankie had just finished a solo job, working over some mechanic for “protection money”, when he was confronted by a group of three men, led by some tall, ripped as shit bald guy. There was a lot of posturing and jaw jacking, followed by a scuffle and a moderately beaten Frankie being dragged off to some warehouse. After the ordeal he had just gone through, he was quite surprised to see Giovanni, along with the rest of the gang, standing with a bunch of strangers. Giovanni explained to him that a new crew was moving into the area, and had offered to pay handsomely those who left without a fuss. It was also made apparent that one way or another, the Aces would leave. An offer to join this new group was also extended. Giovanni opted out, taking the money and walking out without so much as a backward glance at his now former gang. Many of the others followed suit. A few switched sides. After a few moments of consideration, Frankie crossed the room to join his new employers.
Onas Knox, the new boss, though wealthy, didn’t have much in the way of reputation. It was of Frankie’s opinion that they should expand their territory, to get credibility as well as increase profits coming in from local businesses. Onas put Frankie to work doing what he did best. Steadily, the borders of the Supertrade expanded. Nowadays, he spends his time protecting Supertrade assets, sticking it to that bitch Minerva however he can, and working to expand both Onas’ and his influence. Make no mistake, Frankie is on his way up, and really, who’s going to stop him? You?
[/b]
What should we call you? - Tris
Roleplaying Experience - Over a year, on many different sites.
Where did you find us? - I know the admins!
Prove Yourself - Shiny!
Post Script - It's great to be back.
Other characters - Tobias Kelly (inactive).
How we should contact you - PM
Roleplay Example -
'Where am I?'
Darkness. That was all Frankie could see. He willed his eyes to open, but they ignored his demands. A muffled sound met his ears from an unknown location, melting into comprehensible speech. The words were murky, as if he were underwater.
"...if they don't pay? What then?"
Finally, his eyelids raised, revealing a very blurry... well, blur. That was about all he could see. His head felt like it had been busted open, and the taste of blood as he ran the tip of his tongue along his lip told him it had been split.
"They will. Trust me. I mean, we took Frankie Blue! They've gotta take us seriously! And if they don't, we'll..."
A groan escaped his lips as he forced his head upright. The blur resolved itself into shapes, and the shapes resolved further into two men, one with red hair and one who was bald as an egg, in an empty room. Frankie looked down to see that he was tied to a worn, creaky wooden chair. He strained against the bonds, grunting as the ropes dug into his wrists. The ginger was the first to notice the disturbance.
"He's waking up!"
The men walked over to Frankie, smug grins on their faces. He pulled against the ropes once more.
"Good morning, sunshine. Whoa! Take it easy! Your ours, now."
The enforcer continued to wrench at the bonds. His entire body throbbed. He screwed up his face at the pain as he looked at his captors.
"Whadaya mean, 'I'm yours'? Listen pal, I ain't nobody's, got that? You best cut me loose right now, or I SWEAR ON MY FADDA'S GRAVE I will make you regret the day your whore of a mother squeezed you from that foul smelling, moldy gash between her thighs! YOU'LL WISH..."
Frankie's threats were cut short as the bald man's meaty fist connected with his jaw. The coppery tasting liquid began to fill his mouth. Cool, blue eyes looked up at the man.
"You don't know who you're messin' with, man. There is no version of this where you come out on top. Come on, guy, don't be stupid. If you let me go now, I promise I won't hurt ya. I'll act like it never happened. Just cut the ropes and I'll be on my way. Nobody has to die today."
The color drained slightly from the Red's face, but Baldy was unfazed. He leaned in close. So close, in fact, that Frankie could almost count the hairs growing on the mole the man had on the left side of his nose. He could definitely smell the horseradish from whatever the man had eaten for lunch.
"We know exactly who we're messing with. Frankie "Blue Eyes" Crocetti. You're a heavy hitter with the Syndicate. You eat lunch at the same deli every day. We've been watching you, Crocetti. That's how we knew where to hit you. So why don't you do the smart thing, and stop running your mouth. Still need convincing? We know you spend Saturday afternoons playing ball with some kid. You know, now that I think about it, he almost looks a bit like... you. Hey, maybe if we took both Crocetti boys, w-..."
The man's rancid breath washed over Frankie with every syllable. It was almost vomit inducing. He continued to act all big and bad, spouting off information that was common knowledge to most people. Frankie rolled his eyes. Stop running his mouth? Yeah, like that would ever happen. He distracted himself from the death breath by trying to figure out how long he'd been there. It couldn't have been long. Mention of Vinnie snapped Frankie's attention back to Baldy, all smugness vanishing from his face. It was replaced by pure, unadulterated hatred. In a heartbeat, Frankie's head jerked forward and his forehead slammed into his captor's nose. He felt the cartilage give way, and hot blood spurted onto his face. The man fell backward, and Red ran to help him up. Frankie wasn't finished yet, though. He leaned forward to get his feet under him, and jumped as high and hard as he could, throwing himself backwards onto the floor. The force of the landing splintered the chair, but he was unable to control the fall. His head bounced the concrete floor with a sickening thud.
"aaaAAAAAARRGGGGHH!"[/b]
Frankie screamed as his ears began to ring. Groggily, he stood up, eyes burning holes into the two men as Red helped up Baldy.
"You should have walked away when you had the chance. Now, you're dead."[/b]
Frankie charged the bald man, pinning him against the wall with a broken chair leg across his neck. He was about to choke the life out him when he felt a sting, followed by an intense throbbing, burning pain in his stomach. He looked down to see a knife in Baldy's hand. Red joined the fray, throwing Frankie back to the ground and punching him in the nose. Stars exploded in Frankie's vision. Baldy walked over to Frankie, face contorted with rage. A large boot met Frankie's ribs with enough force to send him a few feet across the floor. He winced as he breathed in, pain wracking his entire body. He looked up at Baldy and Red, their forms silhouetted in his pain-blurred vision. From outside the door, he heard what sounded like several muffled gunshots, followed by some brief shouts and the sound of booted feet jogging down the hall. A blood soaked smile spread across his face as more muffled shots followed.
"Go ahead and kill me. You're still dead. You think the Syndicate doesn't know where I am? That deli you took me at? That's my mudda's deli. I talked the boss into installing a camera there and sticking one of our guys in the kitchen. That camera has a live feed into the back of the store, and sends footage back to HQ. They knew I was taken before you left the block!"[/b]
More gunshots, fewer footfalls.
"And now, it looks like they sent the Black Hand after you. You bedda start prayin', boys. Black Hand don't take no prisoners."[/b]
Almost as suddenly as they had begun, the muffled shots stopped, replaced by the rhythmic clacking of a woman's high heels on a concrete floor, growing ever closer... closer... closer... until they stopped at the door. Frankie laughed darkly as he spat a gob of blood onto the concrete.
"Time's up."[/b]
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SYR INTEGRA of CAUTION 2.0 created this and she will happily hunt you down, rip out your spinal cord, and beat you to death with it if you steal her hard work and claim it as your own. especially since she will gladly share it with any and all who wish to use it, provided they leave her nice, little credit attached.
