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Server time (UTC): 2019-11-14, 02:27
Emilia Lazaro
Character information
  1. Alias
  2. Mental
  3. Morale
  4. Date of birth
    1999-06-13 (20 years old)
  5. Place of birth
  6. Nationality
  7. Ethnicity
  8. Languages
    Spanish, English, Portuguese.
  9. Relationship
  10. Religion


  1. Height
    172 cm
  2. Weight
    62 kg
  3. Build
  4. Hair
    Long brown hair.
  5. Eyes
    Dark Hazel
  6. Alignment
    Chaotic Evil
  7. Features
    *Ball tongue piercing*

    *20cm long healed scar across her chest*
    *Tatoo covering half her back*

    *Shoulder tattoo on right arm*

    *Three healed stab wounds*

  8. Equipment

    -Any ballistic vest
    -Any Jeans
    -Black T-Shirt
    -Biker Helmet


    -Any Gun
    -Any Knife
  9. Occupation
    Free Lancer
  10. Role


I was promised an adventure, fortune and fun. I am not going to complain I definitly got the first and the latter.. still working on the other one.


Growing up in a city of light I am used to loud streets, lots of loud people and organized crime. South Zagoria has me feeling home sick, the crowds of people here seem less lively but hey crime seems to be international atleast. When I was first told that this province would make me one of the richest women in the entirety of this new world I would of probably called them delusional. How glad I am that I was in the wrong.


If there is anything I know anything about its Drugs and what they do to people, drugs are power and with the right mindset there is some creative space to have fun with. I grew up to a loving broken marriage and a complete cluster fuck of a family. Who would have thought that an American man and Spanish women raising a child in Brazil would end in becoming a great sales person. I have been selling ever since I was young enough to run, kids dont get searched nearly as often and if I do it's easy to scream for help. I got into the scene around 11 when I was offered 10 dollars to take a small beige package and run it across town to an old man. It was scary being alone with this old man, the smell of his house smelled of a rat's nest. His name was "Raton".


"Raton" used to be one of the greatest smugglers in all of South America, he started off when he was 8 years old, the old man saw me and told me we weren't to far apart from one another. This was something that took my young mind a little to long to understand, so he gave me another 10 dollars. He told me with a great smile that I would get many more of these if I kept running packages across town. Now even at my age I understood thats not inherently something socially acceptable for an old man to tell a kid. Dumb as I was I agreed. "Raton" tough me of the alleyways and old street corners that he used to run, he would help me learn how to identify gangs and people who are looking out to protect me incase something went south. Everyday I would packages, everyday I would get better and every day I would get payed.


The old man and I grew close, he was like the most sober father I could of asked for at the time. I became part of his operation, we called ourselves "baratas". We ran drugs and made the drugs. As I grew older I had to make more than running them, our circle specialized in getting kids of the streets and into the workforce. "Raton" gave alot of people stability we all lacked. This was something we all loved the old man for. Around my 17th birthday all sound had left the streets around us, no more children playing football, men drinking and distant sounds of people re inacting the discovery channel. Raton had passed away in his sleep, the operation was over.


I knew I had to leave while I could, Raton always told me I needed to escape this country and pursue life somewhere, find someone that would take care of me. When I met an Italian man that knew as much about drug trafficing as me I knew that the old man had sent this guy right to my door step. Marko, he was pasionate, strong headed and always rigged the game to his liking. When he offered me to come to Italy and help him with his work I was excited beyond anything.


We ran a great business in Italy, his contacts with my set of skills allowed us to make the fortune with both sought after. The greatest business opertunity happend right around 4 months after my arrival. The great Epidemic that was crawling it's ways toward us from the east. People were in panic and let their guard down. We ran scam after scam, we gave people hope and we got their money. By the time people caught on to the fact there wasn't a drug circle with a underground safe house they could live in we were allready long gone on our boat.


We ran this boat as our drug vault, the trade never ended only increased with soceity breaking down. We would dock and sling what we could for guns, ammuniton, food and water. We set sail east, one calm night on the sea we picked something up on the waves. A women talking about some big time crime group nearby.



See there used to be some Hispanics in the are calling themselves after their street, a certain 24th street. They used to run a massive operation in South Zagoria which was much to my liking and turns out that word is their supply may very well still be intact and if I know one thing that sells no matter the day, weather or epidemic its class A until D Drugs. If we are right about this we should come out of this as the "El Chapo's" of the new world. Even better aperently another organization under the name of the 28th, and international group seems to have had a women in these lands named "Ace" I am certain she must of left something of interest behind to be injected and sold.


After we find the X? Sell it, use it and live like kings. Granted the right company may be needed, we definitly are not the only ones looking for this golden ticket.


Ey vato vato

so many edges its like a myriagon

Ey vato vato

so many edges its like a myriagon

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eyyy, wassup vato 👀

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3 hours ago, G19RP said:

eyyy, wassup vato 👀

I'll do you proud vato. Nice automatic you got there

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