Background: My last name didn’t used to be
Siamo-Angelos, y’know. I changed it so it would sound Italian, but I’m not
Italian in descent. Not even close. But, in my profession, it’s good to be
Italian. When you are, people think of all those old stereotypes, they
think ‘gangsters’, and they think of tommy guns and jet-black
Rolls-Royces, and, oh, here’s the best one of ‘em all, they think of
‘mafia’. When you hear conversations about crime rings in the States,
which name do you hear more? Mafia or Yakuza? Thought so. Since I’m a
Mafia man, I changed my name to make myself all that more threatening. I
changed a bit more to match, too. Name’s fake, hair’s fake, even the
accent’s fake. But don’t tell anybody that, or I’ll cast your feet in
cement and throw you in a river. That’s a little Mafia humor in there.
Don’t take it seriously. Anyway, I used to be the head of a huge Mafia
family near the East coast back in the Land o’ Liberty. We practically
owned New York. We were the closet bad guys, no one knew who we were
exactly, and they didn’t know where we were, but they knew we were
somewhere, and they knew we were bad news. I dunno, I’d say we were one of
the friendlier families to take hold over the area. But then, we came to
Khazan, and I got my socks blown off. We’d been piddling around with the
little fish all along. Don’t get me wrong, New York’s a great place, but
Lowtown’s even better. It’s friggin’ HUGE. Got involved in kinds of
illegal-goods running and espionage that I never even knew existed. I love
it here. It took us a few years to get our roots in the place, but we did
it. Sadly, that’s not what I’m here to talk about. I’m here to talk about
business, and, boy, what business it is. Just last week, I got a message
from an old buddy of mine who’s been here for awhile. Wes Parden. We were
real close, like brother and brother, hadn’t talked to each other an
years, though. But, as soon as I met Wes again, it was just like old
business. He tells me his kid’s been kidnapped. It made me kinda sad; I’ve
seen the two of ‘em playin’ around before, and she’s a real sweet kid now
that I think about it. Who wouldn’t want to start their own little rescue
mission? And I owed him for saving my ass during an illegal weaponry
sting, he shot down a bunch of KPD who were in perfect position to blow my
head off. So I owed him big time, and I intend to repay the favor in
spades, baby. I am Michael Siamo-Angelos, but everyone calls me Mikey, and
NOBODY f---s with my family, OR my friends, without getting a little
back-pay.
Character Personality There’s a lot of little things about the Mafia that
intrigue me. The little details and nuances, the ones that got me
interested in the first place. Like how pretty much anybody can be
involved in it. The waiter serving your table? He’s pretty good with a
baseball bat. That lady unloading the garbage? Got a Glock in her skirt
strap. That eight-year-old playing with Transformers across the street?
Nah, not him. But I hear his uncle makes a damn good Bloody Mary. I should
know. I have at least one every week. Another thing that gets me is the
kinship, you know, how close everybody gets. I could go on a mighty big
splurge on all of this, but instead, I’ll just say this; don’t you EVER
f--- with us. ANY of us. Or we’ll hunt you down, burn you alive in your
car, and pay off a prostitute to say it was an accident, among other
things. We kill you and your reputation in one fell swoop. And that, my
friend, ain’t no joke. We’re nasty like that. But we’re noble, too. Like
now, we’re getting involved with a bunch of business that probably has us
in over our heads. Do we care? Hell no, we enjoy challenge every once in
awhile. We’re sneaky, we’re underhanded, but we’re f---in’ committed to
what we do, and loyal to whom we owe. We’re usually the bad guys, we’re
usually the ones bustin’ knees or collectin’ debts, but not today. Not now
we aren’t. Today, it’s time for the bad guys of Lowtown to start playin’
the hero game. We’ve got a job to do.
Powers and Abilities
We’re not a crime ring...
When you
think of massive organizations in Khazan, don’t you think of the Fallen? I
know I do. They’re huge, they’ve got control, they’re rich, and they could
crush us like a housefly. I love how organized they are, how they’ve got
their s--- together. But I don’t envy them. Y’know why? Their idea of a
promotion or a step-up is to usually kill the guy above ‘em. It’s true
over here too. I don’t like it, but it is. However, we give INCENTIVES for
people who don’t kill their superiors, and instead work their way up. We
like people like that, honest, hard-working people who do what’s asked of
them. Those people get rewarded. The people who kill their higher-ups
though, if not justified, get special treatment if we ever find out....
...We’re a family.
Mm-hm.
That’s right. It’s a family business. We got Gabe, and Uri, and Lucy, and
Beth and Sal... Most of ‘em are in-laws, but I love ‘em all the same.
Gabby’s the cloak-and-dagger type, knows a lot of things I don’t. Uri’s
our contact in the KPD, been workin’ there for a long time. Lucy’s
probably camped out somewhere, teaching some newbies how to use their
guns, and lovin’ every second of it. Beth’s somewhere around, scouting out
the SLJ Headquarters again most likely. And I’d bet Sal’s either makin’
debts or collectin’ ‘em. Even when it’s not one of them you’re seein’,
we’ve got a least one sub-group in the immediate area. Usually four or
five people to a group, each with their own special skills or talents. But
it’s a rare circumstance that you ever see me walkin’ the streets on a
mission to bust heads. That’s usually incentive to start worryin’, ‘cause
I’m valuable goods, and I don’t go out armed to the teeth for no good
reason.
We’re everywhere.
- Power: Detective
- Level: Superior
- Kit Power Link: Mentalist
Damn straight we are. We’ve
been looking into this whole kidnapping thing, and we’ve learned that my
pal Wes was not the only one with a missing kid. A lot have been missing
from their homes and schools, or at least we think they didn’t leave
willingly. We noticed one thing right off the bat, and that was every
single kid had a power of some kind. Healing, magic, psychokinesis, whole
big load of stuff. Even Wes’ kid had some ‘latent teleki-what’s-it’ when
she was little, as Wes told me. Lots of words have been popping up in our
‘investigations’. Words like tournament. And ‘children of destiny’. And
Reconstruction. One word in particular scared my brother-in-law shitless:
Nelkéré. And nothin’ scared Gabby Siamo-Angelos shitless like that one
word did. Alarms went off in my head as soon as I saw his face at hearing
that word. I couldn’t help but smile after I saw him stand up, straighten
out his suit, and leave the room as fast as his legs could take ‘im. He
dropped out of the matter as soon as he could after that. Just disappeared
off the face of Lowtown, hell, he disappeared off Khazan, and that’s a
damn hard thing to do, ‘specially with how many people I got lookin’ for
him now.
We got connections.
Already we
knew we were in over our heads. So, we figured our boys would need some
kinda protection. Uri’s got a few superior KPD friends, so he got us some
standard-issue bullet-proof vests. I told him that probably wasn’t gonna
be good enough. So he went back, and got crates packed with full-blown
riot gear. Top-o’-the-line stuff, thin as possible, and damn near
impervious. It’s easy to hide under any fine Armani suit, and pretty
lightweight for a bullet-proof vest. I got each and every one of my men
and women out there wearing one of these. I dunno, I’m still not sure
that’s gonna be enough.
Lots of connections.
- Power: Weapons
Creation
- Level: Superior
- Kit Power Link: Mentalist
- Advantage: Area Effect This attack causes damage in a large,
circular area.
- Advantage: Ranged and Melee Attack! Attack is equally
effective at range and up close.
Yeah,
we know gun shops all over the place. They give us lots o’ good stuff. We
got semi-automatics, handguns, miniguns, whippits, pepperbox shooters,
concealed firearms, and a lot more. Almost got out hands on a laser-guided
rocket launcher once. But, for now, we settle for grenades. We ain’t
talkin’ those piddly explosive ones they put in movies, hell no. We’ve got
the classic grenades; concussives and flachettes. Uri’s workin’ on getting
us a few crates o’ flashbangs as we speak. But, sometimes raising the
level of a conflict to one which you clearly dominate ain’t no fun. That,
and there are times when you gotta send a message. So, some o’ my boys
went off to sporting goods shops, and got themselves some durable baseball
bats. Hell, some went to armories and dug up some old classics. Don’t be
surprised if you see a few guys and gals wandering around with crossbows
and broadswords.
We got guns...
...and we
know how to use the damn things. The way of the gun has been the way my
family’s taken for years. You don’t have to be close to use ‘em, so
they’re nice and impersonal. There are three things you can do with guns:
make an impression, injure, and kill. Making an impression ain’t so hard;
aim it over someone’s head, fire off a few rounds, and people are cowerin’
on the floor, ready to do what you want as long as it doesn’t involve any
more loud noises. Injuring comes when some smart-ass decides to not take a
hint, and stand up. Nobility’s a good thing, but not when combined with
stupidity. Injuring is also used to leave an impression on anybody who
does us wrong. Now, killing, that’s what happens when somebody does
something wrong and we have to rectify it, or something goes wrong, and we
have to haul ass away. Sometimes you want to injure, and not kill. Others
you want to kill, not injure. Others, you wanna kill as damn fast as you
can. Every new member of the family not only gets health benefits, which
includes health insurance and a damn good dental plan, but it also comes
with some training. You learn how to hide things, make other things
disappear, how to mix certain drinks certain ways, and you learn how to
use guns. You also learn how to field strip ‘em and hide pieces in places
that don’t make it look like you have a gun at all.
Shoulda seen this comin’....
C’mon, every
group of Mafia grunts has to have one of these guys. You know, the one who
does positively nothing all the while you see ‘im walking in and biding
time, but then does something just marvelous as he’s about to leave. Or
kill ya, whichever comes first. Breaking in? Walks in calmly after
everybody else. Presentation of the reason the bastards should hold damn
still and do what we say? Stretches just a little, yawns, and scratches
himself. Initial negotiations? Goes to find some coffee. But then comes
time for the ultimatum. (Or just final preparations to kill some helpless
bastards...) That’s where he comes in. He wraps one arm around the neck,
and applies just enough pressure to let ‘em know that, yes, he’s in a
perfect position to snap their neck. They’re the type that makes sure you
know you’re in store for a few too many broken vertebra if you don’t
comply. I love it. I made damn sure that every little group had at least
one ‘Breaka You Neck’ guy, because they’re so useful yet quiet at the same
time. And, if the needs arises, they can kick considerable amounts of ass,
too.
|