Roleplay VIP Giveaway

[skyprah]

Take part in the RP VIP Giveaway by writing a short paragraph or more about your KZG RP character. You could include stuff like your job, past jobs, family, hobbies, goals, interests or whatever you want to write!

Feel free to also include some suggestions or friendly feedback below coloured in green.

 

• 50,000 RP-Money
• Job change cooldown = 20 minutes (instead of the original 60)
• 5% more XP anywhere
• 50% pay less on apartment rent and can extend for two weeks (instead of one)
• VIP can open their own gear without paying for it
• Reserved slot on RP (10 VIP Slots)
• 10 VIP player models

[skyprah]

Hey everyone! I'm a friendly girl named Shaniqua from Detroit. I'm a police officer and I love my job even though it gets quite difficult dealing with a city over run with meth addicts. I love my city as well but besides the huge amounts of rubbish and broken bongs laying around. I qualified from police cadets just recently after 1 day of training and I'm quite happy with my over progress. Here are some photos the senior cuntstable took of me during some training drills. I was trying to tazer a bird and I eventually got it! He also took some other photos of me without my uniform on but I'll save them for another day to show you guys. I look forward to meeting and greeting you around the city!

 

 

[Oniwach]

Hello fellow peoples, This is my story.... There are times when I still find it hard to believe, but for more than a decade, I made my living as a drug dealer. Meth, cocaine, ecstasy, pot, GHB, Special K. You name it, I had it, I sold it. Meth was a distant second to coke when I began but by the end it was by far my most popular product, accounting for half of my sales and two-thirds of my profits. It also became my personal drug of choice, and for 10 years I smoked it every day. It was because of meth that I went to prison and it took prison for me to finally quit meth, I now have a family a smoking hot wife and 2 kids we live happily in a huge mansion.
 

[Black Chef]

Hey guys, I'm Herdinand. I'm a man that loves to cook a good brew, and by brew I mean meth. I used to be an ex chef but that job quickly became unavailable due to being replaced by this guy

so I decided to become a meth chef! I'm getting more customers then ever but I do miss my old job and would  love to become a chef again. I'm currently homeless after being kicked out by my landlord Sirtron so I'm staying with @Oniwach for now but I have a feeling I won't be aloud to stay for much longer... I heard there's some half price deals on apartments along with 2 week rent that I would be keen to get in on, fingers crossed.

[Wisey]

There are times where i find it hard to live, i use to live on drugs, Heroin, Weed anything i did it. I dont have a home so i result to a life of living of center link money. The money is very shit but i still find a way to live. I was in WW2 and i fought for Germany and I worked for a private hit squad after that known as Nazi Germany. I am currently 69 years old and I am struggling, i am using the money that Center link gives me to by weed and plant it and sell them to all the cool kids of our generation. In my spare times i like to nap on the side of the street with my pet dog Woofles and i try to sneak into a sold house where i store all of my drugs which i sell to people. I am Married to a smoking hot wife known as Betsy. Shes a mighty fine women and most nights we get caught in the street having sex by random drunk people walking around after a big night out. Some stop a stare, the odd person has a boner its weird but we make it work. I look forward to seeing you guys around the city 

 

[Dongle]

The name's Beau and I'm a Michigan man, my past and childhood isn't sunshine and rainbows... it's despair and deceit. Neglect and suffering was a huge part of my childhood, between my alcoholic father whom died when I was 4 from liver failure and my mother that blew any money she could find on cocaine. I have a younger brother, he is permanently brain damaged on the account of my horrendous mum leaving her cocaine out for him to stumble on, he needs 24 hour care in the case of seizures. I also have an older sister, she's no better than mum, knocked up at 17 and living god knows where with her junky husband. It was a cold and icy night it all changed. Mum strayed from her usual cocaine and went on some harder stuff, heroin... I found her laying on the couch in a pool of her own vomit when I woke up, she was cold, her addiction had finally caught up to her. I had just turned 21 meaning I was responsible for myself and myself only, and of course my little bro. I needed to get out, I took mum's cocaine money she hid in our grandfathers urn where his ashes once were. We escaped, it only took a few months for my life to take a turn.

My torn and twisted past was the reason I became a police officer. I was found by a police woman just knocking off work on her way home, her name was Shaniqua, a kind soul that set me up with a warm and safe place for me any my brother. I began training and eventually qualified to officially join the police force. I aspire to make a positive difference in the lives of those around me and those seeking help in our community of KZG. I wish to be seen by society as someone that can be looked up to, relied on and to give people a sense of security and safety within their own homes. I will ensure that no one around me has to suffer at the hand of poverty like I did.

Consider me a friendly face to talk to about anything, see you round!

[draph]

The names Jamal, born and raised in Cleveland. Life was tough growing up, I was raised by my older sister, Patricia. My father was sentenced life to prison before I was born, according to mom anyway. My mother was hooked on pills and didn't care for me nor my sister, so we moved in with Patricia's best friend who helped care for me until I was stable. My school grades were terrible and I wasn't able to find a proper job so I turned to drugs, drug dealing to be precise. At this point I was living in a small mobile home with only $5 in my pocket. I planted my first weed tree when I was 17, that was my only source of income and still is. After years of dealing I was able to rent a small apartment located near the main road. My sister has since stopped speaking to me and now I'm alone with no friends and very little cash. If I'm not dealing weed I'll be in my apartment listening to Tupac. I-I wish to quit this living and try get my life back on track and help the citizens around me, but for now this will suffice.

Edited May 27, 2017 by draph

[ElementX]

Hi, I'm Jeffrey Straus, born in Japan and now I'm here. These few years living in Uptown have been tough recently, I'm only just able to pay rent, power bills, and food every week with my low paying job that is a takeaway shop, because of this job I'm not able to go home and see my parents who sent me to where I am now. I was only Thirteen at that time and didn't know what to do, on top of that I spoke Japanese so there was a communication barrier. I was then taken in by a foster home and raised by them to where I am now. Twenty Years old with my own house and a kind of stable life, I thank them very much for what they have done to help me.

Though just because I work in a takeaway shop doesn't mean I don't have another job in mind, yes that's right a drug dealer, specifically in the heroine section of drugs. You see because of this low paying job It's hard and because I'm an addict it makes things even worse which is why I have suddenly just decided to quit my job become a drug dealer, it is high paying, though maybe I should quit in being an addict so that I can make even more money, I will go to a community center and get help for that but that may be extremely hard for me. Just because I'm an addict doesn't mean I'm weird or cruel, I'm nice and willing to help anyone in need.

 

PS. Writing this changed my mind about a lot of things in my life

Edited May 27, 2017 by ElementX

[the wage gap doesn't]

 

My name is Julian Williams, former member of the elite black ops squadron based in New Delhi tasked with infiltrating neo-nazi drug ring operated by notorious Armando Berto alongside my life-long partner in crime, Harry Price.

Growing up, I lived in California. A rather simple life I led, my father was an accountant, my mother stayed at home looking after my other siblings. It was a rough start for me, being the first out of three. Sam was born with only one arm and was bipolar, the poor bastard... But he's a good man my little brother, always has been. As I pressed on through the hardships of watching my brother slowly develop, I finally made it to primary school. Things went well through preschool, I made a couple of friends here and there but nobody that would really stick by me. I slowly started to lose touch with my "friends," becoming a bit isolated from the rest of the kids there. I felt lonely... lost. It wasn't easy, especially with Sam constantly in the back of my mind. Fast forward a few years, I made it to grade 3 where I experienced for the first time what it's like to be bullied, and not some petty shit you see on the movies where someone get's called an idiot. Sam was at his first day of school, and a couple of assholes in my grade went up to him with no motive and started tapping the stump where his arm would be, yelling at him, laughing, making him feel like nothing. I couldn't stand it, so I went over and told them to bugger off, as a big brother should. I went home with a black eye that day, and a broken leg.

Life was hell through the rest of primary school, nothing went right for the longest time. I felt trapped, lonely… helpless. A constant slope going down was forming beneath me, I felt almost as if I had nothing to live for. Dad felt like crap, the whole time. He started drinking a lot my old man, every night. He became really abusive towards mum, towards sam… towards me. He was brutal he was, but he couldn’t deal with his eldest son being beaten up at school everyday. Mum forced him to go to therapy, two years it took for it to work. It worked for a while, until the worst day of my life happened. When I was only in grade 6, I attended my dad’s funeral. It hurt, it hurt like fucking hell and I couldn’t deal with it. Mum was lost, she didn’t know how to go on without him really. As corny as it sounds, we didn’t get far for a while. Mum decided against California, so we left the state, hell we left the country. It wasn’t worth the past, it wasn’t worth feeling like Dad’s death was my fault. Remember the fucker that broke my leg? Yeah, his dad was the one who did it just so you know. I remember seeing him in shackles, off to prison. I would’ve jumped on him and ripped his fucking eyes out if I had the chance… but it was over at that point. 25 years away rotting in a cell. He deserved more. His excuse? Apparently I bullied his son, I BULLIED HIS SON? Are you fucking kidding me? The anger and rage built up inside of me was immense, but I knew that I had to let it go, I had to let dad go.

Mum sent us to Australia, far away from any of the horrors in our past life. It wasn’t worth it anymore, and we simply couldn’t do it. Far North Queensland, Cairns, Australia. I’ll tell you, it was a fucking blessing being somewhere else. New faces, new voice which were funny to listen to at the start, and a new landscape to make my own. I started year 8 all the way down there, and it felt so different. People cared about me, they cared about my life… it was a miracle in disguise honestly. I felt great, even made a best friend for the first time in my life. Nick was his name, and hell he knew me better than I knew myself. He was a good guy, but I knew he’d be long gone at the end of highschool. It didn’t matter back then though, because all that mattered was my happiness which I finally managed to find. It was rough dealing with a single mother, but thankfully we had help from mum’s brother, Chris. Rich fucker he was, but a kind soul. $50,000 was our “play” money he reckons, jesus I’d kill for that kind of money these days I’ll tell you, but nonetheless he got us on our feet. Australia was a blessing, it really was. I learnt so many new things down here, Nick even taught me how to speak like a “true blue banana benda!” Funny bloke I’ll tell you, couldn’t have asked for someone better to grow up with. Things went pretty quick from that point, and everything that happened was good.

A time in my life came where I really started to care about myself, unlike before where I would throw myself at anything without any concern. I started to be more conscious of the people around me, of the people that I loved and the people that loved me. Sam, I’ll tell you he had it fucking good, and he deserved it my little man. I loved him like a mother loves a son the second he comes out, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world. I’d take a bullet for that man. Year 12 came along while everything was going so great, and the final days came faster than light. We graduated, me and Nick, and fuck did we have a good time. Overall, throughout the state, he came second and I came third. Smart fellas we were, if only I retained half the stuff I knew back then now. I decided to try and reach my lifelong goal, to cure cancer. A long shot, I know, but the determination is what kept me going through those rough years. Sleepless nights, shit loads of caffeine and a lot of stress. Nonetheless, finals came up, and finally I got that stupid piece of paper. 4 Years of barely sleeping just to get this degree, but I was happy with myself. Things at this point were at a steady pace, nothing too good happening, nothing too bad, and that’s what I told myself back then. As always though, I spoke too soon. On the way home, I got a call from mum, a call I should never had to receive, a call that shaped the rest of my life. A call I could’ve prevented…

Eight years ago I attended Sam’s funeral; caused by suicide. Ironically, he shot himself. So much for taking a bullet for him, hey? At this point, I stooped lower than I ever had before. I felt worthless, like muck, like nothing… empty, that’s how I’d describe it. I had no motive, nothing to live for. I blame myself to this day, I wasn’t there for him, not when he needed me the most, not when he cried alone, not when he shot up drugs to take his mind off all the bad in his life, not when he fucking died. It should’ve been me, and I’m not letting go of that. Drugs were the only escape I had from this horrible reality, something you’d see in a fucking movie. Life shouldn’t be this hard, it’s supposed to be a blessing. That’s what dad always said before he kicked the bucket. A blessing hey? Do blessings fuck you over every way possible? Do blessings kick you in the ass with a fucking spike and make you want to fucking die? A blessing my ass, at least that’s how I used to react to life. I tried everything I’ll tell you, drinking myself to forget a whole week, ice, heroin, ecstasy, weed, anything I could get my hands on. Nothing worked, no matter what I tried but an addiction formed. The only “fun” left in my life was the path of shooting up drugs, and I would’ve stayed there if I wasn’t caught. A friend of mine, Sandra, more of a fuck buddy if I’m honest, but nonetheless she was a good time. She asked if I wanted to get smashed, and of course I wanted to. Stupid question! She recommended Gilligans, the famous club in Cairns where you could probably buy a pill from the bar tender. Regardless, I told her to go inside and wait for me. I never followed, if I’m honest it’s probably been about 10 years since I’ve seen her at this point.

That’s when I met Harry, what a fucking asshole, at least that’s what I thought when he took my needle off me. None of his business I thought. He was a cop, saw me in the alley right next to the club shooting up and asked me what was going on. I told him that my life was a mess and nothing in it was right and that this was the only escape. I asked him to just let me do it, but he persisted and took it off me. Over the years, the drugs caused me to be so weak. It wasn’t worth fighting I thought, and that’s when he took me into the car. Back at the station, Nick was the only one he could call and he came and got me. Nick hadn’t seen me for about 4 years at this point, and he didn’t know what to do. He talked privately to Harry, asking him what things he could do to rehabilitate me, to get me back on the right path, and it was then that Harry and I’s fate was decided. Harry became my mentor, having many struggles in his past life. His mother and brother both died when he was a kid, so it already felt like I knew him better than I knew myself. He was the nicest guy I had ever met, and him and Nick worked together to get me back on the right path. Three years had past and after going to the gym, getting myself a job as a doctor for a couple years, and marrying my lovely Aoife.

A year after marrying, I decided that I owed Harry everything. He was the reason I was able to move past Sam’s death, and better myself as a result. He’s the reason I married Aoife, who I love so dearly even to this day. I decided on a holiday to New Delhi, where we’d spend a month together. Grace was more than happy to let me do it, and Aoife was completely in support of it. 6 years ago, today, was the last day I saw my wife. New Delhi was a horrible place, I don’t even know why I chose it. So much crime, so much sadness and so much despair filled in such a visually thriving place. Deep down, however, it was chaos. We couldn’t get out of the country, terrorists were flying in from every direction stopping us. Aoife was shit scared and Grace was slowly losing her mind. They couldn’t handle it, and slowly I contacted them both less. We were running low on money, so we both had to get into the workforce. It was rough at first, myself and Harry were constantly arguing, putting me in the spot of blame. He wasn’t wrong either, and I know that. I was working as a doctor, he was back in the police force. We became closer again, realising that this wasn’t the end and eventually we were back to where we were, just stuck in India. Time went on, and an opportunity arose. The governor of India had sent out a public notice to all men over 30, an offer to fight for India in exchange for secure exit of the country.

It was on that day that me and Harry changed our lives completely, leading us to where we are now. We became part of the Black-Ops force due to our extensive ability to eliminate the threat in any situation. Our past lives have helped us a lot now, and still do to this day. Our task, to eliminate the leader of the neo-nazi drug ring, Armando Berto. A terrifying man, someone who knew exactly what he was doing. His task; to take over India and make it his own. Our job was to infiltrate their forces along the border of Pakistan, and assassinate him. We set out on our journey four years ago, and from there a life of secrecy and running began. All ties were to be cut off, and no outside communication could be had other than with HQ. The task itself; rough and a piece of shit frankly. Nonetheless, it was our job. We started on foot and finally made it to the border, where everything changed. Things would never be the same for us, some of the sights we saw would scar us for life. To make our way to Armando, we had to climb the ranks. Illegally joining their forces and committing crimes we never would just to get close to him. Another year passed, and finally we made it to the inner-circle. Our display of mateship and “trust” supposedly brought his eye upon us, making us his little stars. We served him only for another three months, before we attacked.

We killed him. A night operation, with the task of simply driving a knife through his skull and leaving. Our reputation got us right past any security, and right out of Pakistan. Success; or so we thought. We made it back to New Delhi, and delivered the news. The governor was satisfied, and gave us enough money to fly home. With the threat no longer existing, he was able to get us straight out of the country. After two and a half years of not seeing Aoife, I had to get home, and I’d do anything to make it back to her loving arms. I don’t care if she’s with someone else, I just miss her warm touch, her smile, the feeling of being safe in her arms. The feeling of love we once had. We made it to the airport, and a sigh of relief that I had pent up for the last few years nearly left me, until I figured out what was really going on. I grabbed Harry and ran. Why, you ask? The governor had failed to tell us one thing, and conveniently Armando’s surprise was waiting for us at the door. We fled, miles and miles out of the city. Harry stopped me to ask what happened; and that’s when we had to leave… for good. We killed Armando Berto’s father, not Armando himself.

We were stupid to think it was that simple, that we could just get that close. A couple of foreigners who don’t even look like the bastards with a motive to wipe out the fucking Indians? This was on us, and we accepted that. A time came where we simply ran, we ran for a good year until we finally found a little place to settle down for a while. We couldn’t do it anymore, and we decided that we’re already being hunted, why not fuel the fire. A tiny town, Uptown infact. We had no passport, no form of identity and no way to prove who we were, and it was at this point where we decided what we were going to be for a while. I knew everything you could about drugs, how to make them, how to sell them for the highest price, who to sell them to, how much to sell. Years of crime had led me to this moment, the moment where I could get me and Harry somewhere to stay. Our combined knowledge taught us how to hide everything, and nothing could stop us.

Weed was only the start, and a lot more is yet to come.

People of Uptown, until next time.

 

~Julian

[Mack]

 

My name is Harry Price, former member of the elite black ops squadron based in New Delhi tasked with infiltrating neo-nazi drug ring operated by notorious Armando Berto alongside my lifelong friend in arms Julian Williams.

I was born and raised in Kraków, Poland. I was actually born inside an old Concentration Camp whilst my mother Aleksandra was pregnant on a tour through Auschwitz. Life was rough in the poor suburbs of Poland, drugs, money, women and crime were a daily occurrence. I grew up being the oldest of my 4 siblings, Kamila, Johannson, Nadia and Edwina. My Mother never let me out of the house because the fear of me being hurt out in the streets was a real possibility.

At Christmas time,my Mother took us out to the shopping centre down in the central business district for some Christmas shopping. We went into a clothing shop which had some very nice shoes that i was about to try on, when suddenly a large BANG was heard throughout the shopping complex. A large group of white men wearing all black stormed into the building wielding  AK’s and Glocks. They were going shop to shop killing anyone in their path repeatedly saying ‘Pamiętaj, nie rosyjski’. They came into the clothing shop we were in, my mother and Johannson hid under a clothes rack whilst me and my sisters were hidden in one of the change rooms. There was 2 shots fired, one for my mother and one for Johansson. Another blast in the building caught the attackers attention, so i was spared alongside my sisters. This was the day that i seeked revenge on evil.

Life was hard living with a single parent who had to juggle his work life and his family responsibilities, it was tough. Until one day we got the news that we were accepted into a refugee program to seek asylum in Australia. We only had 2 days to pack until we set off on our journey. The day came to leave on the plane, i said goodbye to all my friends that i had here and shed a tear for a girl named Esmina whom i took the virginity of the night before.

We arrived at, to what seems like, a really shitty town called ‘Cairns’ It was hot and smelt like rotten fish. I started school as soon as i arrived, it was hard. Learning new words, making new friends, i just wanted to give up but i kept on keeping on. The day had come to graduate, i completed my high school studies and i was quickly thrust into the big bad world of being an adult. I had applied for jobs around the area, Shopkeepers, Retail but with no lucky always having in the back of my mind that i wanted to protect and serve the people i love dearly so no one ever has to go through the experience i had as a child. I was walking down Butler Street and i ran into some cops and i asked them what's the best way of breaking into the law enforcement career, they brought me to the station and set me up with a test and courses that i could complete to gain qualifications.

10 months later, it was my first day on the job as a police officer in Cairns. I absolutely loved it, my coworkers were awesome, had some great new friends and also met a lovely girl Grace, I proposed to her 2 years later, got married and had three beautiful children. I was out on patrol around the town, when i stopped upon a club called ‘Gilligans’ i decided to go have a look inside, i walked up to the door and noticed an alleyway with a man sitting in the alley way injecting a substance into his frail body. I walked over to the man and yanked the needle from his body before he could inject himself with the toxic substance. I started talking to the man and he was telling me all about his brother and his life up to this point. I gave him a pass on the drugs but encouraged him to go to a drug prevention centre. I had never seen a person in such distress and total lack of love for themselves. He said his name was Julian, i took him over to the paddy wagon and took him to the station. He asked me what my backstory was and i explained to him that my mother and brother died in a shooting in Poland. We clicked from the moment we told our stories, i helped him sober up and then helped him for the next 3 years to rehabilitate him into a great man, the man he should've been and who he always was. Three years passed and he has now got a job as a doctor, he previously completed a medical degree and married his lovely wife Aoife.

One day Julian had approached me saying that he owes me everything and that i helped him establish his new and improved life. I kept telling him that he doesn't need to thank me, he did everything himself to improve as a person. He said that he had booked a holiday for me and him in New Delhi, India. Little did i know this would be the last time i would ever see my wife and children.

We arrived in New Delhi, i thought it was a horrible place, dirty and sad but the people seemed happy. Even though there was so much crime and corruption they still managed to put a smile on my face. After about a week the true colours started to show. This town was nothing but crime and corruption. We couldn't get out of the country due to the country having an influx of terrorist activity. We slowly ran out of money and were desperate. Julian and i were starting to argue. I blamed Julian for ruining my life thinking i would never see my family again if we were to die here. Suddenly the governor of India had sent out a public notice to all men to fight for India in exchange for secure exit from the country. Our lives completely changed from this day. We became part of an elite black ops force tasked with the job of eliminating the leader of the neo-nazi drug ring, Armando Berto. This man was guilty of thousands of war crimes and drug trafficking, this was the scariest time of my life. We were tasked with infiltrating his line of defence along the Indian/Pakistan border and assassinate him. We set out on our journey four years ago, we were forced to live in secrecy and cut off contact with our families. No outside communication other than to the Headquarters in Delhi. It was a daunting task, but it was our job for the meantime and every time we did a job we got closer to finding our families.

We started travelling all the way to the border of India and Pakistan, tensions were running high. Some of the things we saw have still scarred me. To get close to Armando we would need to join his ranks and commit his crimes to get to him. A year passed; Myself and Julian made it into the inner-circle of Armando’s cell. We had caught his eye for our dedication to each other. We served him for another 3 months, before we would attack. We killed him in a night operation. We ran back to our camp and geared up for our long journey. We got let out of the gates due to our high rank in the terrorist cell. We escaped from Pakistan. We made it back to New Delhi after a long drive across the barren country. We told the Governor of our victory and gave us enough money to fly home. I was desperate to get home after not seeing my darling Grace and kids from nearly 3 years. I just hope she didn’t forget about me. I cannot wait to hug my kids and tuck them in at night to the sound of a bedtime story.

We got to the airport, i unpacked my bags and was walking to the main doors when suddenly Julian grabbed me and started running for it. I didn’t know what was going on, he was in a hurry to get away and said there was no time to explain. We both fled miles out of the city. I stopped Harry and asked him what had happened, he mentioned that we had killed Armando’s father and not Armando himself and that Armando was standing at the airport. We were on the run for about a year until we found a place to settle down. We just couldn't cope with running anylonger. But we always knew we would be hunted. We stumbled across a little quaint city called Uptown. We had no passport or any form of identification. We knew the only option for us now. Julian had spent years as a doctor, he knew how to make certain drugs and chemicals. As a police officer, i knew how to get away with it all. The tricks of the trade some might say.

 

We have just recently planted some weed, it will be hitting the streets soon… Till next time.

 

~Harry

 

Edited May 27, 2017 by Mackenzie

[Wisey]

29 minutes ago, the wage gap doesn't said:

 

 

My name is Julian Williams, former member of the elite black ops squadron based in New Delhi tasked with infiltrating neo-nazi drug ring operated by notorious Armando Berto alongside my life-long partner in crime, Harry Price.

Growing up, I lived in California. A rather simple life I led, my father was an accountant, my mother stayed at home looking after my other siblings. It was a rough start for me, being the first out of three. Sam was born with only one arm and was bipolar, the poor bastard... But he's a good man my little brother, always has been. As I pressed on through the hardships of watching my brother slowly develop, I finally made it to primary school. Things went well through preschool, I made a couple of friends here and there but nobody that would really stick by me. I slowly started to lose touch with my "friends," becoming a bit isolated from the rest of the kids there. I felt lonely... lost. It wasn't easy, especially with Sam constantly in the back of my mind. Fast forward a few years, I made it to grade 3 where I experienced for the first time what it's like to be bullied, and not some petty shit you see on the movies where someone get's called an idiot. Sam was at his first day of school, and a couple of assholes in my grade went up to him with no motive and started tapping the stump where his arm would be, yelling at him, laughing, making him feel like nothing. I couldn't stand it, so I went over and told them to bugger off, as a big brother should. I went home with a black eye that day, and a broken leg.

Life was hell through the rest of primary school, nothing went right for the longest time. I felt trapped, lonely… helpless. A constant slope going down was forming beneath me, I felt almost as if I had nothing to live for. Dad felt like crap, the whole time. He started drinking a lot my old man, every night. He became really abusive towards mum, towards sam… towards me. He was brutal he was, but he couldn’t deal with his eldest son being beaten up at school everyday. Mum forced him to go to therapy, two years it took for it to work. It worked for a while, until the worst day of my life happened. When I was only in grade 6, I attended my dad’s funeral. It hurt, it hurt like fucking hell and I couldn’t deal with it. Mum was lost, she didn’t know how to go on without him really. As corny as it sounds, we didn’t get far for a while. Mum decided against California, so we left the state, hell we left the country. It wasn’t worth the past, it wasn’t worth feeling like Dad’s death was my fault. Remember the fucker that broke my leg? Yeah, his dad was the one who did it just so you know. I remember seeing him in shackles, off to prison. I would’ve jumped on him and ripped his fucking eyes out if I had the chance… but it was over at that point. 25 years away rotting in a cell. He deserved more. His excuse? Apparently I bullied his son, I BULLIED HIS SON? Are you fucking kidding me? The anger and rage built up inside of me was immense, but I knew that I had to let it go, I had to let dad go.

Mum sent us to Australia, far away from any of the horrors in our past life. It wasn’t worth it anymore, and we simply couldn’t do it. Far North Queensland, Cairns, Australia. I’ll tell you, it was a fucking blessing being somewhere else. New faces, new voice which were funny to listen to at the start, and a new landscape to make my own. I started year 8 all the way down there, and it felt so different. People cared about me, they cared about my life… it was a miracle in disguise honestly. I felt great, even made a best friend for the first time in my life. Nick was his name, and hell he knew me better than I knew myself. He was a good guy, but I knew he’d be long gone at the end of highschool. It didn’t matter back then though, because all that mattered was my happiness which I finally managed to find. It was rough dealing with a single mother, but thankfully we had help from mum’s brother, Chris. Rich fucker he was, but a kind soul. $50,000 was our “play” money he reckons, jesus I’d kill for that kind of money these days I’ll tell you, but nonetheless he got us on our feet. Australia was a blessing, it really was. I learnt so many new things down here, Nick even taught me how to speak like a “true blue banana benda!” Funny bloke I’ll tell you, couldn’t have asked for someone better to grow up with. Things went pretty quick from that point, and everything that happened was good.

A time in my life came where I really started to care about myself, unlike before where I would throw myself at anything without any concern. I started to be more conscious of the people around me, of the people that I loved and the people that loved me. Sam, I’ll tell you he had it fucking good, and he deserved it my little man. I loved him like a mother loves a son the second he comes out, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world. I’d take a bullet for that man. Year 12 came along while everything was going so great, and the final days came faster than light. We graduated, me and Nick, and fuck did we have a good time. Overall, throughout the state, he came second and I came third. Smart fellas we were, if only I retained half the stuff I knew back then now. I decided to try and reach my lifelong goal, to cure cancer. A long shot, I know, but the determination is what kept me going through those rough years. Sleepless nights, shit loads of caffeine and a lot of stress. Nonetheless, finals came up, and finally I got that stupid piece of paper. 4 Years of barely sleeping just to get this degree, but I was happy with myself. Things at this point were at a steady pace, nothing too good happening, nothing too bad, and that’s what I told myself back then. As always though, I spoke too soon. On the way home, I got a call from mum, a call I should never had to receive, a call that shaped the rest of my life. A call I could’ve prevented…

Eight years ago I attended Sam’s funeral; caused by suicide. Ironically, he shot himself. So much for taking a bullet for him, hey? At this point, I stooped lower than I ever had before. I felt worthless, like muck, like nothing… empty, that’s how I’d describe it. I had no motive, nothing to live for. I blame myself to this day, I wasn’t there for him, not when he needed me the most, not when he cried alone, not when he shot up drugs to take his mind off all the bad in his life, not when he fucking died. It should’ve been me, and I’m not letting go of that. Drugs were the only escape I had from this horrible reality, something you’d see in a fucking movie. Life shouldn’t be this hard, it’s supposed to be a blessing. That’s what dad always said before he kicked the bucket. A blessing hey? Do blessings fuck you over every way possible? Do blessings kick you in the ass with a fucking spike and make you want to fucking die? A blessing my ass, at least that’s how I used to react to life. I tried everything I’ll tell you, drinking myself to forget a whole week, ice, heroin, ecstasy, weed, anything I could get my hands on. Nothing worked, no matter what I tried but an addiction formed. The only “fun” left in my life was the path of shooting up drugs, and I would’ve stayed there if I wasn’t caught. A friend of mine, Sandra, more of a fuck buddy if I’m honest, but nonetheless she was a good time. She asked if I wanted to get smashed, and of course I wanted to. Stupid question! She recommended Gilligans, the famous club in Cairns where you could probably buy a pill from the bar tender. Regardless, I told her to go inside and wait for me. I never followed, if I’m honest it’s probably been about 10 years since I’ve seen her at this point.

That’s when I met Harry, what a fucking asshole, at least that’s what I thought when he took my needle off me. None of his business I thought. He was a cop, saw me in the alley right next to the club shooting up and asked me what was going on. I told him that my life was a mess and nothing in it was right and that this was the only escape. I asked him to just let me do it, but he persisted and took it off me. Over the years, the drugs caused me to be so weak. It wasn’t worth fighting I thought, and that’s when he took me into the car. Back at the station, Nick was the only one he could call and he came and got me. Nick hadn’t seen me for about 4 years at this point, and he didn’t know what to do. He talked privately to Harry, asking him what things he could do to rehabilitate me, to get me back on the right path, and it was then that Harry and I’s fate was decided. Harry became my mentor, having many struggles in his past life. His mother and brother both died when he was a kid, so it already felt like I knew him better than I knew myself. He was the nicest guy I had ever met, and him and Nick worked together to get me back on the right path. Three years had past and after going to the gym, getting myself a job as a doctor for a couple years, and marrying my lovely Aoife.

A year after marrying, I decided that I owed Harry everything. He was the reason I was able to move past Sam’s death, and better myself as a result. He’s the reason I married Aoife, who I love so dearly even to this day. I decided on a holiday to New Delhi, where we’d spend a month together. Grace was more than happy to let me do it, and Aoife was completely in support of it. 6 years ago, today, was the last day I saw my wife. New Delhi was a horrible place, I don’t even know why I chose it. So much crime, so much sadness and so much despair filled in such a visually thriving place. Deep down, however, it was chaos. We couldn’t get out of the country, terrorists were flying in from every direction stopping us. Aoife was shit scared and Grace was slowly losing her mind. They couldn’t handle it, and slowly I contacted them both less. We were running low on money, so we both had to get into the workforce. It was rough at first, myself and Harry were constantly arguing, putting me in the spot of blame. He wasn’t wrong either, and I know that. I was working as a doctor, he was back in the police force. We became closer again, realising that this wasn’t the end and eventually we were back to where we were, just stuck in India. Time went on, and an opportunity arose. The governor of India had sent out a public notice to all men over 30, an offer to fight for India in exchange for secure exit of the country.

It was on that day that me and Harry changed our lives completely, leading us to where we are now. We became part of the Black-Ops force due to our extensive ability to eliminate the threat in any situation. Our past lives have helped us a lot now, and still do to this day. Our task, to eliminate the leader of the neo-nazi drug ring, Armando Berto. A terrifying man, someone who knew exactly what he was doing. His task; to take over India and make it his own. Our job was to infiltrate their forces along the border of Pakistan, and assassinate him. We set out on our journey four years ago, and from there a life of secrecy and running began. All ties were to be cut off, and no outside communication could be had other than with HQ. The task itself; rough and a piece of shit frankly. Nonetheless, it was our job. We started on foot and finally made it to the border, where everything changed. Things would never be the same for us, some of the sights we saw would scar us for life. To make our way to Armando, we had to climb the ranks. Illegally joining their forces and committing crimes we never would just to get close to him. Another year passed, and finally we made it to the inner-circle. Our display of mateship and “trust” supposedly brought his eye upon us, making us his little stars. We served him only for another three months, before we attacked.

We killed him. A night operation, with the task of simply driving a knife through his skull and leaving. Our reputation got us right past any security, and right out of Pakistan. Success; or so we thought. We made it back to New Delhi, and delivered the news. The governor was satisfied, and gave us enough money to fly home. With the threat no longer existing, he was able to get us straight out of the country. After two and a half years of not seeing Aoife, I had to get home, and I’d do anything to make it back to her loving arms. I don’t care if she’s with someone else, I just miss her warm touch, her smile, the feeling of being safe in her arms. The feeling of love we once had. We made it to the airport, and a sigh of relief that I had pent up for the last few years nearly left me, until I figured out what was really going on. I grabbed Harry and ran. Why, you ask? The governor had failed to tell us one thing, and conveniently Armando’s surprise was waiting for us at the door. We fled, miles and miles out of the city. Harry stopped me to ask what happened; and that’s when we had to leave… for good. We killed Armando Berto’s father, not Armando himself.

We were stupid to think it was that simple, that we could just get that close. A couple of foreigners who don’t even look like the bastards with a motive to wipe out the fucking Indians? This was on us, and we accepted that. A time came where we simply ran, we ran for a good year until we finally found a little place to settle down for a while. We couldn’t do it anymore, and we decided that we’re already being hunted, why not fuel the fire. A tiny town, Uptown infact. We had no passport, no form of identity and no way to prove who we were, and it was at this point where we decided what we were going to be for a while. I knew everything you could about drugs, how to make them, how to sell them for the highest price, who to sell them to, how much to sell. Years of crime had led me to this moment, the moment where I could get me and Harry somewhere to stay. Our combined knowledge taught us how to hide everything, and nothing could stop us.

Weed was only the start, and a lot more is yet to come.

People of Uptown, until next time.

 

~Julian

I can verify both Dank's and Mackenzie's posts are completely legit, i was here in ts while they both wrote them i have ts proof if you guys want it

[Fozzz]

2 hours ago, skyprah said:

Take part in the RP VIP Giveaway by writing a short paragraph

'short paragraph' i think these two should be disqualified.

[the wage gap doesn't]

2 hours ago, skyprah said:

Take part in the RP VIP Giveaway by writing a short paragraph or more about your KZG RP character. 

2 minutes ago, Fozz said:

'short paragraph' i think these two should be disqualified.

 

 

[Xiphoz]

3 minutes ago, Fozz said:

'short paragraph' i think these two should be disqualified.

He actually said

"Take part in the RP VIP Giveaway by writing a short paragraph or more about your KZG RP character."

Edited May 27, 2017 by Xiphoz

[Xiphoz]

Hello, fellow members of our small society. My name is Shashaq Habibi and I grew up in a small town just south of where we are today in a with my family. As a child, I enjoyed playing with family. That is until the day it all happened.

On March 19th, 1993 I was one of those cute little toddlers that were just learning to speak basic words. On my way home in the family car, we were hit side on by another car and the car flipped multiple times until I became unconscious. I then woke up in a hospital a couple hours later and never saw them after that day.

Several years later I started a life of crime, you know Coke, meth, heroin and all that other stuff that nobody else would even dare try. It wasn't the best type of life but at least I was making a name for myself, but not a very good one. As my life went on I did the normal things that a person would try and do (Graduate from high school and get a good job). 

At the age of 21, I was a well-known member of the community and always helped out when I could. But I still had the background from earlier in my life. On October 5th, 2011 I was leaving my job to go home for the night. As I was leaving the building I realised that there were a lot of police cars outside. The second I stepped out that front door they all yelled: "Get on the floor, put your hands behind your back". I followed what they said and got pulled off the floor and put into a police car. From there I went to court and was sentenced to life in jail.

Years later after I gathered some associates we all ended up breaking out of prison and running in our separate ways. I thought it was a great idea to run to a nearby city to escape, but they are still searching for me day after day and they will not stop until they find me.

I will try my best to become an outstanding member of the Society, but I cannot guarantee it.

Please don't sell me out to the police

[Guest]

Holy crap, someones got a lot of reading to do

[Stephhh]

Hey my names Johnny Pindick,

I was born into this world as an accident, my mother was a prostitute who specialised in beastiality. That's why i resemble a sloth. I never got to meet my father, he was auctioned off to slavery, so i didn't have a father figure to guide me through my childhood. I dropped out of school and turned to drugs, mainly marijuana. I would plant and deal. When i was really short on money, i robbed the bank and sprinted my tiny twig legs up to my apartment. I believe taking weed up the bum gives a better experience. In my spare time, i like kidnapping kids and trapping them in my basement, only then leaving them to starve.

short n simple ahahhaahahahahahahahahahaha

[perma]

Hi my name is Sky I'm 1 day old and I live with your mum and I fuck her every night. Sorry to tell you so late in life though ur adopted nah fuck off.

[JaTheBest123]

Hello! My name is Rakesh Ramada or also known as Ramadan. I was born in Saudi Arabia in a little town called Haradh. When I turned five, I started playing soccer. I practised everyday and by the age of fifteen, I was the best player in town and I was popular. It all went down after that because I moved to Australia where everybody there was better than me at soccer. This led to me being known as 'The Bad Foot' and hated throughout my city. I then turned twenty and became a garbage collector as I didn't want any attention and now, I go around observing everything and ashamed of my past.

[Wan Kin Tu Yu (vol 0)]

i am groot.

[sm!]

"hi im kers now who the fuck are you brah"

@Ec1ipse

[Ec1ipse]

@THRASHER lmao

 

Hello, I'm Chief Wiggum or also known as Officer Wiggum. I was born in Springfield, I had a weird time in school, always bullied for being fat so I became the "King". How did I become "King" I made Aussie Rap Music and Got a lot of tattoos, wore the freshest clothes and made mad as youtube videos. One day everything went shit and I lost everything, my crew, Youtube and my music...I wasn't a king anymore so i wanted to change sides and i became an Officer of the KZPD (Killzone Police Department). I'm now Chief Officer of KZPD. 

I was so happy when I made the change, I now get to help keep the streets clean and keep all the losers off it.

[Flexicute]

can't compete ill just pay...