Juan “Jet” Guzman, Cartel leader, Kingpin Admin
Jun 10, 2016 10:47:41 GMT -6
Post by Jet on Jun 10, 2016 10:47:41 GMT -6
Name: Juan “Jet” Guzman
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Species: Human
Appearance: Jet is a lean human being with gray hair, and a menacing smile. While pictures of him show pointed teeth, it’s merely a metaphor for how malicious he can be. He stands 5’10’’’, a decent height, but certainly not the tallest. He can usually be found in “douchebag” clothes ranging from sleeveless shirts and wifebeaters at home, to “night club hipster” while out. He usually wears a leather jacket to show just how cool he is.
While he’s at the Manifesto HQ, he actually dresses up nicely. Tailored suit, tie, everything you’d expect a debonair to wear while at a fancy party; he was a business man, after all.
Personality: This is a guy you would probably rather not meet.
In his daily life, he’s rather rude. He likes his vices; drinking, ladies, cars, tough pokemon, he takes what he wants and considers it a personal insult if you refuse him. He’s the kind of guy who would seem content and friendly, until you took a shot of his expensive vodka, and would proceed to whip you with the butt of his 45 magnum and have his pokemon throw you out. His favorite phrases seem to be “Fuck you!” and “Piece of shit.”
This behavior also has the side effect of being overly… chauvinistic, even a little sexist. Smacking asses, idolizing revealing clothes, sexualizing them, he’s a real piece of work. It’s no surprise the only love he’s had are prostitutes and one night stands.
There’s a reason he became the leader of a crime syndicate. Not only is he rude, but he’s ruthless. He’s killed a man… or to be more accurate, several men. Competitor? Knife to the throat. Double crosser? Shot to the head. He prefers dealing with his problems… personally. He has a violent streak which does not play well with this trait at all. Piss him off, and he will rage with all the fury of a roided out tauros. His walls have dents, he has to replace windows and lamps regularly, and those around him fear the day he might snap at them.
Another trait that led to his success was cowardice and underhanded tactics. He never goes into a fair fight he could lose; some might call this good tactics, he just calls it good business. In his world, what use was honor if you were lying in a pool of your own blood in an abandoned alley after a deal gone wrong? It was better to be cursed and on top than honorable and dead. He keeps bodyguards and guard pokemon around him at all times, being on top has risks.
Being a scumbag crime lord doesn’t mean he lacks good traits; after all, he is good enough to be on top.
He’s exceptionally business savvy. He knows what things are worth, how to get them from point A to point B, and how to coordinate. He’s not afraid to intimidate and bluff to get deals across. His overbearing and forceful personality make him a great leader to the criminals and lowlifes of the city; he takes care of them, as long as they know their place, and they understand this. Disrespect or betrayal is cause for a shot to the body, the location depending on the severity of the “crime” and his mood.
If you do manage to treat him with respect, he shows you respect in turn, however finding the resolve to respect him in the first place is where the problem lies.
He’s very streetwise. He might not be able to calculate advanced math problems, but he can tell you what’s going on anywhere in the city based on his gut, and when someone is going to fuck you over just by how they act.
His one redeeming quality seems to be the protection of the things he loves. He’ll pretend he doesn’t care, but if you threaten a person he cares about, you may as well sign up for life insurance, it’ll be the only good thing that comes of your death.
He does have a daughter. He loves his daughter, but doesn’t get to see her much; he doesn’t want to endanger her life by associating with her or her mother openly. Only one man found the connection, he was found floating in Justice Bay with several bruises on his body and strangle marks on his neck, “no suspects have been identified.”
History: Life for Jet started out rough. Born to a disadvantaged family in the projects of King City, he had to learn the ways of the streets quickly just to survive. His father left them when he was a kid, he never showed up to his 8th birthday… or anywhere since. He hung out with the “older kids” as a young child, and picked up on the things they did; sneaking liquor from their parents, doing drugs behind the school, he made his first drug deal at 12.
As school progressed, he saw increasingly little use for it; he skipped most of his classes, did poorly in the ones he attended and eventually dropped out of high school. Education was just a means to make more money in a boring job, and he already made all the money he needed dealing. It was no surprise then that his dealing habits attracted the attention of the local gang, who decided in a stroke of luck to recruit him instead of killing him for stepping on their turf. Jet ruled the little corner they gave him with an iron fist, running off all competitors and recruiting those that would submit to his reign. Eventually, a king must expand his territories, and one “unlucky” day, the man he reported to ended up mysteriously trapped in a car as it was sent through the crusher. Of course everyone with a brain knew it was Jet, but there was no proof… the leader liked his sheer moxie at daring to make such a bold move, and was promoted to second in command, a “regional manager” if you will. It was the worst mistake of the old cartel leader’s life.
He served loyally under the cartel for a couple years, but even the best of friends have differences of opinion. The mutiny took weeks to plan, but just a few tense hours to execute… which is exactly what happened to the old leader. In what would be known in their circles as the Red Revolution, anyone who refused to follow their new leader was summarily executed and thrown into the ocean. The entire process almost ousted them to the local police; that much murder in a short time was sure to trigger suspicions, but money and power could pay off municipalities well enough.
With a new leader at the helm, one with the balls and malice large enough to successfully run a criminal syndicate without bowing to pressure or being intimidated by rivals and cops, their organization grew. Every organization needs supplies, while the slums were far from lacking lowlifes willing to do anything for a bit of smack. How do you fix that problem? By brokering a deal. Jet met Ardan, who seemed desperate for fresh recruits. How does a business man remedy too many men and not enough supplies? By creating a symbiotic business deal. He supplied “recruits,” Ardan provided him additional funding and tech beyond what he could normally get his hands on. Jet isn’t expressly loyal to the Manifesto… He’ll sing their praises in their presence and publically, but in true Jet fashion, he’s in it for himself and his organization.
Powers: Aura
Pokemon Owned: 4
~Pokemon~
Name: Rex
Species: Houndoom
Gender: Male
Moves: Crunch, Flamethrower, Will-O-Wisp, Fire Fang
Ability: Flash Fire
Nature: Rash
Details: Rex and Bessie were bred specifically to be personal guard dogs for Jet. Raised since puppies, they're fiercely loyal to their master, and no one else. They often compete for their master's attention, bickering often and sometimes fighting. Rex is the male of the duo, he feels he should be "top dog," or "alpha male" because of his male status.Jet ignores and sometimes encourages these fights; max revives and max potions are in no short supply, and it's seen as "good training" for the two.
Name: Bessie
Species: Mightyena
Gender: Female
Moves: Crunch, Odor Sleuth, Scary Face, Play Rough
Ability: Intimidate
Nature: Bold
Details: The female of the guard dog duo, she feels she has to constantly prove herself to Rex and her master just because she's female.
Name: Ace
Species: Salamence
Gender: Male
Moves: Double-Edge, Dragon Claw, Flamethrower, Aerial Ace
Ability: Intimidate
Nature: Brave
Details: The only pokemon Jet has had since he was young. A scrappy little bagon Jet met as a kid, it wouldn't leave him alone, so one day, Jet decided to teach it a lesson. Despite almost fainting, it still saw something in Jet it admired, and didn't give up. Jet liked it's guts so much, he allowed it to be his companion. Jet had waited for it to evolve into the mighty Salamence before enacting his Red Rebellion, Ace was instrumental in the overthrow of the old leadership. He serves as Jet's ace in the hole, and his flying transportation between the islands, though he can usually be found sleeping out in the back yard when there are no pressing concerns.
Name: Mr. Butler
Species: Mr. Mime
Gender: Male
Moves: Wide Guard, Light Screen, Reflect, Psychic
Ability: Filter
Nature: Careful
Details: A bodyguard pokemon Jet hired for protection, he specializes in creating barriers and preventing harm to his employer. Approaching Jet without consent is a reason to get blasted in the face with pure psychic power... if Rex and Bessie don't tear you apart first.
--- SAMPLE RP ---
“There’s no way that bitch can win,” Jet proclaimed arrogantly to one of the two gang members in the room with him, watching a Pokemon Battle Royale tournament on a gigantic television set in a spacious safe house. He was seated on a plush upholstered couch with two ladies, one on each side. This was his main safe house in one of the more upscale districts in King City, the one where he conducted most of his business; a nice luxurious house with all of the amenities.
“Nah boss, that’s Rainbow Pika, she’ll kick any man’s ass any day,” his cohort replied confidently.
“Dude there’s no fuckin’ way. I’ll bet you a buck,” Jet challenged back, taking a sip from his crystal glass of scotch. Sensing an easy bet, his subordinate let out a “done,” smiling confidently. There was no “shaking on it;” here, you were a man of your word, and if your word was nothing, you had no use in the organization. Rex and Bessie lay contently in a corner of the room, today was a lazy day, no assignments. They never truly took the day off; even now, they monitored the sounds around the house, keeping an ear and a nose out for strange noises and smells, though the smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol all but permeated the house. Standing ever vigilant to the side of the couch as if terrorists could burst from every nook and cranny at any second was Mr. Butler, his mime bodyguard.
“Aaaah you fuckin’ whore,” Jet griped at the television as Pika scored a solid hit on her opponent, taking another hit from his glass, “God damn she can take a hit though.” His expression soured as the guard’s he had bet with only became brighter as the match went on; Rainbow Pika wins, total knock out. Jet’s face held the look of a man that said you played me like a fool, and I don’t like being played.
“Alright,” he said, feigning a cheerful demeanor, peeling a hundred dollar bill from his pocket as if it was nothing much to the guard’s delight, “You got me. Fair’s fair, right?” He waved the bill in front of the guard’s face.
“Yea, good match thou-” he started to say, reaching for it, when Jet abruptly threw the bill to the side of the room, right at the feet of the two guard dogs.
“There you go,” he conceded, the most smug look on his face as he leaned back and put an arm around each one of the girls.They giggled at the guard, who seemed momentarily flustered. The guard wasn’t sure how to react at first. With his gaze pointed toward his precious hostage, he slowly rose to his feet. Two canine heads and two pairs of eyes followed his movements, laser-locked onto him. They knew what his master was doing. They knew exactly what he was doing; he took pride in their intimidation factor, and the dogs were all too happy to drink in his praises, taking pride in their own look as a result. The guard gingerly approached the two, taking small steps; he broke out into a cold sweat, he had to at least try, if he backed down now he’d either never see the end of it or worse, depending on the boss’s mood. As he entered the dogs’ strike distance, the area immediately around them where they could easily clamp down on his throat in one swift motion before he could react, Bessie put a large mightyena paw on the hundred dollar bill, and let out a low, intimidating growl. It was a warning. The guard took a step back and looked back at Jet helplessly.
“Jesus fuckin’ christ, goddamn pussy ass bitch. What do I even hire you for? Here, take your goddamn money,” he shot at him with an annoyed look, tossing him another hundred right at him this time, which he caught in mid air. The most relieved expression flooded his face as he scampered back to his seat, his life having flashed before his eyes. Jet looked over at the mightyena and gave a signal in the form of a nod; Rex moved to get up, but Bessie immediately barked harshly at him, causing him to remain seated; she took the bill her paw had been resting on into her muzzle, and fetched it for Jet, returning it to his palm. He gave her a momentary brush of the fur between her ears as a sign of thanks; the mightyena was filled with satisfaction and pride, the subtle sign of affection from her master was all she needed to make all of it worth it. She knew better than to overstay her welcome, and quickly returned to her spot on the floor, a smug look on her face now as she silently gloated at her male counterpart, who could only look annoyed. Fucking women.
Both dogs’ ears immediately perched on high alert as their heads turned toward the door. They could hear a car pull up to the drive, its engine cutting. They could even hear the footsteps approaching from outside. Jet didn’t even have to hear the knock to know someone was at his door, he had two alarms in the room that had already alerted him. When the knock came, both dogs let out a sharp bark apiece, it wasn’t the savage barking of lesser trained animals, but a warning sign to any seeking to enter that the perimeter was guarded.
I will get the door, Mr. Butler informed Jet and the two canines in a calm professional tone, his expression never changing behind his black sunglasses. His hands made subtle movements through the air, as if feeling out a solid edge that shouldn’t be there, and the air shivered in reply. He proceeded to make his way to the front door, and after a few more hand motions, pulled it open with telekinesis. At the door stood an official looking man in a black business suit, clipboard in hand.
“The Manifesto wishes to talk.” Jet lifted his hand and made a “proceed” gesture, prompting the man to come in; he was escorted to the entrance of the living room, allowed to stand in the doorway, but no further. Jet studied the man; no way… it was one of the kids that had tormented him in school, now coming to him to grovel for something. Oh, this was going to be good. Jet released his hold on the girls, and gave a clap of the hands.
“Alright, make yourselves scarce. Daddy has business to attend to. Now.” They knew when Jet was serious, and they knew never to question him. The two guards beat a hasty retreat, and the girls feigned being sad.
“Aww, we’ll miss you,” one said, blowing him a kiss.
“Daddy will be back for you later,” he assured them with a grin. “Now get outta here, ya whores.” Well, it was true; they were on retainer from the local brothel, but pay that no mind. They just giggled at the “accusation,” and followed in the guard’s footsteps.
“Now, mister Manifesto big shot, what can Jet do for you today?” Jet asked in a patronizing tone, holding his palms up in a ‘what’s mine is yours’ gesture.
“The Manifesto needs more recruits,” the man informed him, going through some notes on his clipboard.
“Have I not given you this month’s supply?” Jet replied in an annoyed tone. “Lowlifes don’t grow on fuckin’ trees you know.” It was more of a bluff really; there was no shortage of desperate souls in the city slums.
“I’d uh, prefer it if you not call them that,” the man said, raising his eyebrows. “They’re valuable members of the Manifesto.”
“And I’m a fuckin fairy princess here to grant you wishes, get to the point.” The man cleared his throat nervously and checked some notes.
“Very well. We need a hundred more recruits for a mission, and we’re prepared to offer you a month’s supply of ammunition and medical grade revivies.” Jet was beyond annoyed now. This was a pity offer, a play of desperation, and he knew it.
“Double it and I’ll think about it,” he challenged.
“That’s not… I’m not authorized to-”
“I don’t fuckin care,” he shot back, his voice raising. The dog’s heads rose to attention, their stares boring into the man, unnerving him. “Tell Ardan to send a real man to do a man’s job, and not a piss poor lackey barely above the shit I scrape off my shoes and send to you. You want more men? Make me a better offer. I’m a business man, not a charity.”
“Sir, I’m an accountant and investment broker, I’ve been to college, there’s no need to insult-”
“And I’m the leader of a goddamn empire,” Jet shot back, rising to his feet. The dogs rose to their feet. The man took a step back. “Don’t you come into my house with these pittance offers like I’m some kind of bargain bin, James,” He spat, speaking James’s name with venom, causing James to immediately recognize him.
“Juan? Please, I-” If there’s one thing Jet hated, it was anyone using his real name. Jet had taken a swig of scotch directly from the large glass bottle after his little speech, and as James was attempting to reply, he hurled it in the direction of the man’s head with all his strength. James ducked, and the bottle shattered against the wall, making a large dent in the sheetrock, and showering him in scotch.
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” he shouted; the dogs immediately picked up on their master’s signal, chasing after James, barking and growling. They weren’t the only ones; James had started running immediately after he had been scotch-bombed, beelining for the door. They could have easily caught him before he could make two steps, but they wouldn’t maul or kill without a direct command; they were chasing a scared rabbit, and they loved it. He barely made it out the door, tripping over himself as he scrambled for his car. Mr. Butler calmly closed the door, and the two dogs actually giggled to each other out of Jet’s sight.
~About You~
Player Name: Don
Gender: Male
How did you find us?: ;askdjf;
