Ｍｉａｍｉ Ｖｉｂｅｓ - Roleplay

[Historical Storyteller]

Peter B. Longstreet
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Peter observed the silent communication that took place between Michelle and Conrad. What a pair those two would make. Man, woman, and drugs. He swore those two would be a match made in heaven. In contrast to Conrad, Peter would never get along with Michelle. They were polar opposites, as different as ice and fire. Peter always hated drugs, he thought they were a recipe to destroy the harmony of the soul. It was the magic of devils and evil spirits that transformed the soul of man into something much worse. Despite his own reservations of drug use, he sold some of these drugs to the masses in his own hometown a few times. How low he will sink to the depths of hell for his crimes. He has traded his humanity for cold, hard cash.


The guilt came out of nowhere. The shame of it all was beginning to overpower his conscience and once more he had to ponder over the state of his existence and wonder if his morals would stand up to the scrutiny of his Maker. Peter closed his eyes and he was sucked in a deep meditation that unlocked the mysteries of the universe. Despite how uneducated he was, he could still envision a higher level of existence that is beyond the reach of mortals. It had no shape, and it could not be understood through man's knowledge alone. It was a mystical force that held a supernatural effect over the souls of men to be sure, but beyond this heavenly influence Peter had no idea how to describe the celestial phenomenon.


The powers of his mighty imagination took place and he saw an angel and a clear, morning sky. Peter asked with a bold voice if he still could be forgiven for his sins, and just when the angel opened his mouth Peter was interrupted from his meditations...

 

[Spectre of the Fade]

Lawson Creed
Events unfolded between several of the group, setting what was likely the tone of their relationships to one another in the future. It any of the drugs or the drama became a problem, became a danger to the rest of the group or to himself, Lawson would deal with it then. Currently, though, he couldn't give less of a shit. He'd smoked his share of weed as a soldier. No point in hypocrisy.
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He remained silent as discussion continued. The plan then, was to go to pink hair's house. Acceptable, even if potentially dangerous. Lawson had his own home, but it was in a suburban neighborhood and going from almost no guests to all of these in one morning wood draw far too much attention from his nosy neighbors, so it was no real option. Pink hair's place it had to be.
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His attention was caught by the second stoic, the one who's given an awkward speech about the group getting to know one another a few moments prior. The spaced look on his face, like he'd gotten lost in his own head, was what drew it. Lawson knew the look. And the feeling. Letting out a soft sigh, he stood and collected his duffle bag, then walked over to the man.
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"Come on," he said with a gentle nudge to the man's shoulder, making sure he was a safe distance away before doing so. Some people he'd known came out of a trance like that swinging; better to be safe than nursing a broken nose. Again. "We're moving." Then, to the pink haired one, he added, "What's the address? Our motley procession following you back home is going to draw attention." Too much attention, by Lawson's standards. Then, any attention was too much attention by his standards.
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@Luxury Hotline @Heisenberg
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[ElDuderino]

Patrick Assange


There was nothing to read off of Patrick's facial expressions, he found it important to give the others an impression of professionality, an impression of absence.


Patrick wanted to start as soon as possible althought he did find it amusing; all these murderers in one room.


He found the diversity between his colleagues suprising. As soon as Michelle snorted a dose of drugs that were unknown to Patrick, he rolled his eyes,


It doesn't take a genius to figure out who is intellectually insuffecient, he thought, as he was aware some of his colleagues were plain drug addicts, in his eyes.


He patiently waited for the boss to respond to Lawson.

 

[Neastlarsson]

Yvonette Jones
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Yvonette raised from her chair, the only movement she had done before that was a small smile to the Boss as he forgave her, and stood herself in front of the group. Before talking to them she put one hand on the hip and the other she pointed towards them, one after one.


"Every single one of us knows this buisness, am I not right? Stop acting like children" her words were hard but feminine. She turned to the Michelle. "If there is anyone I would not recommend here, out of what I see it is you, but I have geared about you. It is a beautiful story covered by a sad girl." She turned to the others again, giving them an understanding smile. "Oh dear," she turned to Hunter, "you do not have to put yourself in that position. The Pinguin will not open for hours and it is soundproof."


Yvonnette gave the Boss a small curtsy and left the room. Her ego being to big for her to even think about that some might not know of The Pinguin or even would prefer being somewhere else.