The Twin Islands (CVnU Location)

"Welcome to the Twin Islands, my name is Raul Velasquez, ok? Don't look me wrong or i'll kill you"

"The Twin Islands as its name suggests, is two islands, and they're a real paradise, for the right people. These are crime bosses, smugglers, drug dealers, rapists, you get the gist now don't you? This island is outside the jurisdiction of the f*cking cops in the United States, so you can have fun with zero consequences"

"The island is filled with gangs, criminal organisations, and ringleaders like me. It contains many facilities, which serve all functions, both business and pleasure. You're going to love it here"

"Be warned, we don't like heroes ok? So don't try to be a hero or you'll get your f*cking eyeballs taken out, ok? Good, now we have an understanding, moving on."

"Of course, if you're here for thrill-seeking, the twin islands is beautiful for that, if you come here wanting to be a tourist, we don't like you, go away. If you've come here to try some experimental drug you've heard about, our merchants have all of those. If you want to act like a big shot and start your own gang, good luck. You want to come here to conduct illegal activity without fear of the police? Even better. Seeking sanctuary because you're some big time thug? Okay, but don't bring too much attention"

"But seriously, come to The Twin Islands today! We have everything for you, a drug industry, a slave industry, we have prostitution. You'll love everything The Twin Islands have to offer! Now how do I turn this f*cking camera off, huh?"

Rules

• Don't destroy the island, or single-handedly wipe out its criminal population without arranging a proper RP to do so.
• Anyone is welcome! Criminals preferable, the island is very dangerous for heroes!
• You can NPC as one of many gangs, or thugs. Raul's Gang is called 'The Red Pirates', but you can invent others as well.
• Knowledge of the Island is underground, it's not advertised on TV. Maybe one of your friends told you about it.
• Therefore, please explain how you know about it, don't just arrive...
• Be creative, don't be limited by my description on the island, which I left vague to allow you to be creative.
• You want to set up a gang or outpost? Sure thing, go ahead and depict that.
• As of right now, The Red Pirates are the biggest gang of the island.
• The Island grows through your interactions!
• Have fun!

@raul_velasquez: Have I ever told you the definition, of insanity/

@_goliath_: Insanity is doing the exact... same f*cking thing... over and over again, expecting... sh!t to change.

(I love Vaas! Hands down best video game performance of 2012, and probably of all time.)

Cool place you got here.

Looks like home :)

@warsman: Very lovely place, indeed. One of the top tourist family destinations! :P

@raul_velasquez:

I doubt that :P

@warsman: No really, come see for yourself, bring your money as well... and your kids!

@raul_velasquez: Have I ever told you the definition of fun?

F is for friends that do things together!

U is for u and me!

N is for anywhere at any time at all.

@_goliath_: Haha, whatever you say pal :P

Nice. I wanna set up a gang as Brahma Bull.

@thee_champion: Go ahead!

@raul_velasquez: Nice! :)

@brahma_bull:

So when do I get my rematch?

Concealed by the dense greenery of the Twin Islands', the infamously christened Gothic City Nightmare isolates himself in a solitary cabin of waning, beige-flushed wood. Incandescent sunlight creeping through cracks, providing subtle luminosity in an otherwise enshrouding ambiance, the Brahma Bull's ceaselessly pulsating, rufescent eyes functioning as a secondary source of light in the darkness. Seated on a chair, his demeanor taciturn, he waits. He harbored no respect, no fear, no acknowledgement of the Twin Islands' most renown resident, Raul Velasquez, he harbored none for anyone. Reviewing, readjusting, correcting his present plans for what is to befall on global civilization, the Brahma Bull's serenity is broken, the arrival of his Bois signaled by the tentative opening of the cabin's door, allowing entrance to the sun's brilliance.

Having covered specific regions of the islands as instructed, the Gangster of Guerrilla Warfare's cronies remain silent as their superior's eerily deep, reverberating voice begins. "What is war? War is when diplomacy is no longer possible. When there are no more compromises. The victor of war is not always the one who is right. But the victor is the one who will impose their will, the one who's ideology will be enforced and imposed", he paused, "I am not a diplomat. I do not negotiate. I do not compromise. I am conflict. Where I go, war follows". "Me, I am uniquely positioned to decide what happens to this world. You, Os Bois, meus filhos, you have no identities. You are me. You are Brahma Bull. But you are not the Brahma Bull. You are his ideology. You are my beliefs. To wage war against us is futile. An ideology cannot be killed. Justice without power is useless. Civilization and it's manmade laws will soon crumble as I force my justice, my ideology on the world. We will begin here", his intention, to fortify the numbers of Os Bois.

@brahma_bull:

Born on sand and raised in snow, the Bastard of Alabasta found it awkward traversing the thick underbrush of the illicit island paradise. Any decent tracker could follow him without trouble, but more than likely to their immediate regret. The titanic man had no patience for stragglers now. Every couple of miles, there would be a mangled corpse that rested as testament to this immutable fact. He had work to do.

Proceeding deeper into the jungle, he discovered it to be increasingly mountainous. The summit of one of the central peaks glared down at him through the canopy, but it meant he was getting close. Catching sight of the cabin detailed in most of the black market maps as one of Brahma Bull's safehouses, Dmitri pressed his fingers against the door and pushed. Months of research were finally about to come to a glorious conclusion.

Somewhere, a string snapped - a tripwire.

Vietnam-style traps, sharpened stakes attached to a plank of wood bend back far enough to allow pure kinetic force to impale any given target, regardless of body armor. Brahma did his homework. The grains were red with dried blood, signs of previous victims falling prey to the decoy entryway. Had Dmitri actually stepped inside, his guts would be decorating the carpet. However, this only proved to be another trap.

Suddenly, a burlap sack forced its way over Dmitri's head, cutting off his sight except for the periodic flashes of sunlight once he moved his head to the beat of a pistol being slammed into the back of his skull. The strikes were perfectly timed, trained in a way to incapacitate while maintaining composure. The average person would be knocked out cold, and have no recollection of what happened until they were forcibly startled awake. Dmitri continued to stand, unaffected by the blows except for the patch of wet red staining his jacket and undershirt.

"No ill intent Bois. I know what's going on, seen it plenty of times before. I can respect that you want Brahma's location to be kept perfectly private. Just take me to him. I want to talk."

@warsman:

Anonymity, privacy, qualities that the Gothic Guevara preferred as constants of his safehouse's geographic location. And so, the unacquainted behemoth was not escorted to the Brahma Bull, the anarchic warmonger instead, came to encounter his unanticipated visitor. Os Bois, heavily armed, psychologically disciplined, and irrefutably obedient, remained ocularly transfixed on the gargantuan Russian as the ground quaked subtly, reverberating tremors heralding the forthcoming ingress of the Brahma Bull, his excessively accumulated muscular mass rendering him an individual of elephantine weight. And from the dense greenery and compiled quantity of leaves and bushes, rustling commenced, the emergence of a leviathan frame following.

Footsteps carrying him towards the towering Russian, halting only a foot from the surrounded stranger, the Gangster of Guerrilla Warfare tamely held his sheathed machete by it's enveloped blade. Intrinsically menacing, luminous rubicund eyes met his unexpected visitor's, though he did not speak, for it was not he who had come to talk, it was the Russian, and so a mere gesture of the hand with conveyed nonchalance instructed the Russian Behemoth to begin.

So this is where he's been, eh. >_>

@brahma_bull:

I'll reply after work :D

Very nice, well i guess somebody really liked Far Cry 3 lol

@cassius_knightfall: I take most of my inspiration from videogames :P

@thee_champion: Waiting on Warsy to make my appearance.

@brahma_bull:

The Bois backed away, giving the two ample room for their meeting, though their fingers were still trained in a ready position to open fire once given the command or if Dmitri did something suspicious. So far, all he managed to do was stand perfectly still, his head still bleeding from the successive pistol whips following the burlap sack forced around his face. The noises started to echo from the underbrush, quietly at first, and then with a more profound cacophonous calamity. Dmitri removed the hood from his shoulders and slung it to the side, eschewing the image of someone about to be executed in favor of someone who would face the encroaching Goliath without fear. No such thing existed in Dmitri's heart, and he knew the same to be true of Brahma Bull. Through this incomparable courage, or perhaps just an understanding of the cynical necessity of survival, the two could find common ground. The towering Soviet managed to stand over the Guerrilla Godfather, something very few have ever managed to do, but his muscle mass simply did not compare to the awe inspiring contents of Brahma's weathered, scarred skin.

"I'd like to personally invite you to the first birthday party of a new era, the candle of which is going to be lit near the East River in New York City," he said flawlessly, displaying absolutely no lingering effect a normal person would have while looking upon the mountainous physique of the Czar of Social Upheaval.

However, hints regarding his seething and boundless anger started to pour into his movements. Shivering fingers removed his glasses from his face, revealing the boiling crimson eyes of Alabasta - the last of their kind. That simple glance would tell Brahma volumes of Dmitri's intent to light the fuse of revolution where the world's leaders gather to argue about self-preservation.

@raul_velasquez: Play Dark souls see what that inspires you to make lol. A character who dies five times an RP.

@cassius_knightfall: LOL, it's that bad?

(Raul btw)

@dark-paladin: It's that bad for you.

@dark-paladin: Great game, hugely steep learning curve. Will serve your ass to you, many many times.

@warsman:

The Guevara Gangster paid conversationally necessary attention to Dimitri's succinctly detailed objective, focusing largely on the looming Russian's promises of a revolution. Those words eliciting a reaction, one of subtlety, a devious smirk dripping with constrained anarchic intentions concealed by the thick fabric of his iconic mask. "I accept your invitation", the Brahma Bull began, his tone of voice heralding his following statement. "But only if you assist in my destruction of Gothic City. Of Chicago. Of San Francisco. Of Los Angeles", the Brahma Bull bluntly countered, "There is war on the horizon puto. And I am the victor. My opposition? The Americans, the Westerners hehe", deep voice conveying his amusement via deriding laughter.

"Idiotas. They call me a terrorist. The central target in their war against terrorism. War against terrorism, ha!", he scoffed, "I am an idea. They can bomb me. Maybe even kill me. But it will stop nothing! An ideology lives forever", pausing, again the Brahma Bull smirks. "And the mind of a child", an armed, prepubescent boy emerges from behind the Gothic Nightmare, halting on the anarchist's right as his palm rests atop the youth's shoulder, "Is where the revolution begins".

@brahma_bull:

"You want me to help you destroy countless lives?" he replied quietly, his menacingly vermillion eyes darting back and forth between the child and the Bull. A smile crept to his lips, twisting them into the conformity of conscient malicious intent.

His clenched fists crackled with chakra-infused quasi-lightning, his boundless energy and emotional instability boiling to the surface. And as suddenly as it began, the display of raw power ended, leaving a large area of charred earth in its wake. His sadistic grin still plastered across his face, the Bastard of Alabasta crossed his arms over his barrel chest.

"Everything you have said is music to my ears. I'll start the fireworks, mudak, but on my terms," the playful nature of such a harsh word in the Russian language mirrored Bull's own casual usage of obscenities foreign to common English.

"They watched my people die, and now the world will watch them suffer. I'll see you there."

In order to keep the genocide of mutants as foretold by Amaranth from happening, the American pigs had to be bled dry.

@warsman:

The purpose of the encounter had been met, a plan formulated, the West's relative serenity to crumble before the forthcoming war on the horizon. There was no longer need for conversation. "Good". This remained the only word the Brahma Bull would speak for the remainder of the terse meeting. As implied, they will soon meet for the implementation of their mutually shared objective. Turning away, Os Bois following the Brazilian Behemoth's movements, the Gothic Nightmare departed, trekking deeper into the uncharted territories of the Twin Islands.

@brahma_bull:

@brahma_bull: @warsman: "Hey guys....."

@stripes_:

Dmitri's still standing around :P

@warsman: We can meet somewhere else lol Stripes came to Twin looking for BB. Finding Dmitri would just be weird =P

Btw, want me to post where?

@stripes_:

San Francisco.

@stripes_: @warsman: LOL this'll be fun.

@brahma_bull:

From a noiseless, obscure portion of the island, a somewhat robotic figure emerged, its sole intention being clasp the tree trunk Brahma named arm, in order for him to halt. "Brahma Bull..." The quaint figure's profound voice reverberated as one step forth trembled the xanthous, sandy soil. The rubicund and grizzly mask appeared from the darkness, verdant eyes gazing the humongous Bull fearlessly. "On the behalf of the American people, I apologize for all the offenses." He swayed his neck as is reprobating something, still maintaining the robust countenance of a soldier. "It may not be official, my friend, but I do believe we can make people perceive how correct you are. I am a great admirer of your job and also an enemy of this new governmental system imposed by Stark, it made me scheme a little something to show the world how perfection is achieved. And, well, you would be a principal part of the plan."

@stripes_:

The utterance of his 'name' nor the unacquainted stranger's attempted grasp of the Brahma Bull's arm drew his attention as he footslogged forward, feet moving past the laborious terrain, his hulking frame forcing it's way past the congested greenery of the island. It was only the voiced apology that elicited a reaction. Tamely halting, the Gothic City Nightmare turned to face the Renegade Patriot, his pulsating, rufescent eyes meeting the determined super soldier's with lacking humanity and an unwavering intensity. Subtle traits of the man reminded of Allegiance, yet the man's voiced disdain for the Stark regime was mutual. "Then let us destroy the serpent put in charge of your country", showcasing his willingness to appropriately listen to this stranger's hinted plot.