Out-Of-Character (OOC) Section
Before you read through this, it wouldn't let me post any screenshots or pictures T_T sorry if there aren't any special images...
IGN:
NotSp4des
Describe your activity on the server:
My activity on the server has been all around dead for a good amount of time. As of lately, I have been thinking about coming back to the server and putting more time into it.
Before my small hiatus on the server, I would spend around 3-4 hours a day on the server, spending most of that time Role-Playing and finding ways to interact with others.
I spend most of my time CrimeRPing/Gangrping since it's the main interest I put most of my efforts into. Moving forward, I have OOCLY needs that have to be met
for me to live lol, so I have a schedule below I have put together for you to get a better understanding of my availability.
As of right now, the times will change, once I get the job I am needing since I just quit my other one.
ALL TIMES BELOW ARE EST.
WEEKLY SCHEDULE
Before you read through this, it wouldn't let me post any screenshots or pictures T_T sorry if there aren't any special images...
IGN:
NotSp4des
Describe your activity on the server:
My activity on the server has been all around dead for a good amount of time. As of lately, I have been thinking about coming back to the server and putting more time into it.
Before my small hiatus on the server, I would spend around 3-4 hours a day on the server, spending most of that time Role-Playing and finding ways to interact with others.
I spend most of my time CrimeRPing/Gangrping since it's the main interest I put most of my efforts into. Moving forward, I have OOCLY needs that have to be met
for me to live lol, so I have a schedule below I have put together for you to get a better understanding of my availability.
As of right now, the times will change, once I get the job I am needing since I just quit my other one.
ALL TIMES BELOW ARE EST.
WEEKLY SCHEDULE
| Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday | Friday | Saturday | Sunday |
| 3:00 PM - 12:00 AM | 3:00 PM - 12:00 AM | 3:00 PM - 12:00 AM | 3:00 PM - 12:00 AM | 3:00 PM - 12:00 AM Maybe later | 3:00 PM - 12:00 AM Maybe later | 3:00 PM - 12:00 AM Maybe later |
Specify your Discord username and if you have a microphone:
My username on Discord is notsp4des, and yes, I do have a microphone.
Specify your country of origin and time zone:
My country of origin is the USA, and my time zone is EST/Eastern Standard Time.
What are your motivations in applying for the black market dealer role?
My motivations for applying to BMD comes from the new scene I am seeing slowly being implemented. After seeing the old crime leads step down, and there being a new face, I am wanting to also step in and help mold that new scene into something that players enjoy and thrive in. I've been on SRP for around 5 years now, and the main faction I took part in was the crime faction. I want to see a change in it and help new CrimeRP members experience it to its full potential. Helping new players learn how to RP correctly, all while having fun, is one of my big motivations, as well as giving as many ideas as I can to help plan events that allow everyone to enjoy Gangrp and Crimerp.
What helps you to stand out from other applicants & what can you uniquely provide to the team?
Experience, and the reach I have to a majority of the community. As stated before, I have been on the server for around 5 years, and in those 5 years, I have met many people, as well as gained a large amount of experience. Being a part of several BMD factions, including Fight Club and Blood Hounds. Along with many gangs, with bigger names, such as Bonten, Anarchy, Valhalla, and many more. In that time, I have also run a few of my own gangs, which has given me an in-depth look at what CrimeRP/GangRP players would like to see more often. Nonetheless, I don't run into many troubles when dealing with situations, and have much experience in any sort of P2L, and or normal combat rolling.
What previous experience do you have in working with a team?
The previous experience I have working with a team can vary from activities I've been a part of in the game and outside of the game. Being a part of several tailoring servers as an admin, as well as working with the council in Gangrp, there is a large variety to include. OOCLY I've played sports most of my life, and have had to work as a team in that category, along with working with a team for fundraisers, or anything for community service hours. In many factions I have been a part of, I always see myself working with others as a team, and for me personally, I find it easier to work with others and collectively come together to make any decision.
What suggestions do you have to help better the crime faction?
Most of the suggestions I have will come in the future if I ever get accepted to this faction. Some suggestions I can provide as of now would be to reach out to the community more. A lot of events, or anything that is done, always seem to happen with other factions and or faction leads. Most of the community would love to be included in these events, as one of the key members of the event. Along with deals with other groups, that could help give drive to other members of the community to invest their brain into events, and help with more ideas in the future.
Are you familiar with all rules pertaining to weapon profiles, combat, permissions, and player conduct on the server?
Yes, I am plenty aware of the weapon profile rules, as well as the player conduct.
Are you familiar with that if you leave the black market at any point, the black market lead will have permanent kill permissions on your character?
Yes, I am aware that if I were to leave the black market, the lead with gain KPS.
Are you familiar with that if your character(s) is/are killed or permanently arrested twice, you will be removed from the black market?
Yes, I am aware that my character will be removed if killed, and or permanently arrested.
Are you familiar with that you cannot reveal any out-of-character plans or potential addition to the black market to others?
Yes, I am familiar that if I were to expose any ideas that the black market has, it can result in removal, along with further punishment.
In-Character (IC) Section
Full Legal Name:
My name is Andreas A-Rossa
Criminal Alias:
Call me 'TITAN'.
Age & Occupation: (Note: if you become a black market dealer, you will be permitted the Adult role)
Age? 26 Yeah a little on the younger side for this type of work huh? Occupation, nothing as of right now. Unless you want to speak about the underground "Gym" then nothing I could think of.
Gender & Marital Status:
I didn't think it would be hard to point this one out, I'm a male, and marital status? Single as I can be.
Ethnicity & Race:
Ethnic background huh? I'm Greek/Italian, a weird combination. For my race, I am white.
Known Languages:
The only languages I can speak are Japanese, Italian, and Spanish.
Former Associations/Occupations:
I don't have many former Associations, unless you want to speak about the "gangs" I have been a part of in the past. If that is what we are speaking of, then too many to count.
I worked as a server and bartender for quite some time. After that, I hustled for a little while just to get by.
Highest Level of Education:
College masters, I know, right? Someone who went so far in school is here to be a criminal once more.
Physical/Mental Ailments: (If inapplicable, put N/A)
None that I know of.
Known Family Members: (If inapplicable, put N/A)
Known family members, huh? The only one I could think of is that man Gwayne Aiuchi, he's pretty popular, from what I know.
Describe your character's appearance to the greatest detail:
You want to know what I look like? Alright. I’m six-foot-three, which means I’m usually the one craning my neck under doorframes and getting asked if I play basketball. The answer is no. I’m built more like a swimmer who forgot to bulk up, slim but muscular the kind of lean where you can see every tendon and fiber working when I move. My shoulders are broad enough to fill a jacket, but my waist is narrow, almost too narrow for my height, so dress shirts always need tailoring. My arms are long and roped with lean muscle not thick, but cut. If you look closely enough, you can notice the veins along my forearms before you notice my biceps. My chest is flat but defined, my ribs are visible when I stretch and my stomach stays naturally tight. I don’t spend hours in a gym I just move a lot. It’s a runner’s body or maybe a climber’s. Long legs, compact hips, calves that look like they were carved for function, not show.
My face is where the Italian and Greek decide to argue and make up at the same time. I’ve got dark, thick hair nice dark wavy brown and it's always falling over my right eyebrow no matter what I do with it. My skin is a olive gold, darker in the summer, and it shows every mood I flush across the cheekbones when I’m angry or embarrassed, which I hate. My eyes are deep blue, but if you catch me in sunshine, you will see little silver flakes around the pupils. My nose is straight with a slight bump on the bridge. High cheekbones, a jaw that’s sharp enough to cut, and a shallow cleft in my chin that people either find charming or weird. There’s a small white scar on my left jaw, just under the ear. Bicycle chain when I was nine. I never bothered to hide it.
My hands are longish fingered, almost delicate for a man my size, but the knuckles are prominent from where I use to fight all the time, and the veins stand out when I make a fist. Plenty tattoos, some that scale my chest and back, and one that wraps down my right arm like a serpent. I stand upright without trying my mother used to put books on my head as a kid if I even tried to slouch my back. I’ve learned to slouch just slightly in conversation so people don't feel talked down to. When I walk, the muscles in my back move under my shirt in a way I’ve been told is noticeable. I don’t see it. I just know I’m built long and lean, comfortable in my own skin, even with all of the scars from my past.
Describe your character's personality to the greatest detail:
I'm not an easy person to get to know. I'll tell you that upfront, I guard my privacy like some people guard their money not because I have something to hide, but because I've learned that what you keep to yourself can't be used against you. I don't volunteer much I don't do small talk. When I speak, I speak firmly, and I don't repeat myself. My voice sits low in my chest, someone once told me it sounds like gravel under a slow tire and that deeper undertone isn't an affectation. It's just where my words live. I've noticed people lean in when I talk which is fine, but they also assume I'm angry when I'm not. I'm rarely angry, I'm just... direct. I don't soften my sentences with apologies or laughter. If I say something, I mean it. That makes some people uncomfortable, and I'm okay with that.
But here's the part I don't usually admit out loud I'm not cold, I know I can seem that way arms crossed, face still, answering questions with two words instead of ten. But the truth is, I feel things deeply. I've just gotten very good at not showing it. Certain situations crack open without asking my permission. Kids, for example. I turn into someone I barely recognize around children softer, slower, patient in a way I'm not with adults. I'll sit on the floor and let a toddler hand me the same wooden block seventeen times, and I won't get bored. I'll make stupid voices for stuffed animals. I'll let them braid my the hair I have if they want. It's embarrassing honestly. They don't expect me to be anything other than what I am in that moment, and something I give into so easily.
The other thing is loyalty. If you're mine really mine, not just an acquaintance, but a true friend or even a lover. I will burn the world down for you. Quietly, without a speech. I won't tell you I love you every hour, but I'll remember how you take your coffee, and I'll show up at 2 a.m. without you asking, and I'll sit in silence next to you for hours if that's what you need. I'm not a soft person on the surface. My voice doesn't get gentle, my face doesn't rearrange itself into something warm. But if you pay attention—really pay attention—you'll notice the small things. The way I adjust a blanket without being asked. The way I'll stand between you and the wind without mentioning it. I don't cry at movies or make grand declarations, but when someone I care about is hurting, something in me shifts. The walls stay up, technically. But the door cracks open, and if you're lucky enough to see through that crack, you'll find someone who feels everything I just learned a long time ago that the world doesn't always deserve to see it.
Describe your character's backstory to the greatest detail: (200+ words minimum)
You want the story? Fine, I grew up in southern Italy, Calabria specifically. A Small town where everyone knew everyone, and everyone knew better than to ask questions about my father. He was Italian through and through, a big man with big hands and a silence that filled entire rooms. He did dirty work for a local ndrina that's the Calabrian mob, not the Neapolitan one, people always get that wrong. I never knew exactly what he did, packages delivered, debts collected, people who disappeared at a simple request. My mother was Greek, from a little island called Kastellorizo, and she was the only soft thing in our house. She would sing to me in Greek before bed and cook pastitsio on Sundays and pretend my father's midnight phone calls were about carpentry work. My sister Lucia was two years younger. She had our mother's laugh, loud and unapologetic, the kind that made everyone in the room smile even if they didn't know the joke. I loved her more than anything, I never told her that, and to this day I regret it more and more.
Life was rough but not in the way you might think. We weren't poor, my father made sure of that. The roughness was in the silence, in the way my mother would flinch when a car pulled up too fast, in the way I learned to read a room for exits before I learned to read a book. I was a quiet, watchful, careful kid. I didn't bring friends home, and I didn't talk about my family. By the time I was fourteen, I knew exactly what my father was, and I hated him for it. Not because it was wrong, I was too young for that kind of moral clarity but because it made my mother cry in the bathroom with the faucet running so we wouldn't hear, and because it meant he was never there. He was always out, working, always chasing some debt or some deal or some threat. Lucia didn't understand, she still drew him pictures. She still saved him a seat at dinner, I stopped saving his sorry ass a seat long before then.
When I was seventeen, everything ended. A house fire, electrical, they said, but I've never been sure. The fire started at night, while we were sleeping. I woke up to smoke so thick I couldn't see my own hands. I got out, I don't remember how, I just remember breaking a window and falling two stories into the garden and running back toward the house even as the neighbors held me back. My mother and Lucia didn't make it, they were found together in Lucia's room, and my mother had her arms wrapped around my sister. The investigators said it was a quick smoke inhalation before the flames. I don't know if that's supposed to make it better, It doesn't. My father wasn't home that night, he was out working. He showed up at the hospital in a bloody shirt and didn't say a word for three days. I haven't spoken to him since. I packed a bag, took the money my mother had hidden in a shoe box outside in the old shed, it was Greek money, she always kept Greek money for emergencies, and I left. I was seventeen. I didn't look back.
I ended up in this place called Karakura, in Japan. Why here? No good reason. I had a cousin of a cousin who had moved to Karakura years ago, and we were close enough I could trust him. I landed with nothing, no language, no family, no plan. I worked kitchen jobs, delivery jobs, and anything that kept me indoors and quiet. I learned Japanese the hard way by being wrong constantly, by mispronouncing everything, by nodding when I didn't understand, and then figuring it out later. Karakura was good to me in its own strange way. It's a town that doesn't ask questions, and people keep to themselves. There's a river that runs through the forest, and I used to sit by that river for hours just watching the water move. It reminded me of nothing. That was the point, I built a life there from nothing no mob, no fire, no ghosts. Just me, my silence, and a small apartment with a door that locked from the inside. I don't talk about my past because what is there to say? My sister is dead, my mother is dead, my father might as well be. I'm not telling you this for sympathy. You asked, my story, and that's the story. I don't tell it twice.
Describe an interaction that your character may have as a black market dealer: (This can be anything a weapon deal, an event they may be involved in, or maybe an interaction with a gang)
I tend to keep everything away from chaos and in check with my standards. Nothing too fancy, but nothing too safe. Every situation is handled differently of course, it depends on the weapons or things they want to buy. I'll just explain it quickly and simply.
Spray cans and fake IDs? Those go in a side bag I carry around with an associate or with me. Spray cans you can get at public stores anyway, so no need to get fancy. IDs are small enough to hide under other items for easy concealment, no harm, no foul.
Masks? I clip those to a strap I wear across my chest. When it’s your turn, I just throw it to you, not because you’re beneath me, I just don’t want to get close to you.
Now, if you’re after a baseball bat, pipe wrench, crowbar, or spiked glove… those go in a duffel bag. I zip it up, set it down, and kick it across the floor to you. You want it? Then reach in the bag and grab it while I stand over you waiting for you to run along after.
Smaller, sharp stuff, pocket knives, tactical knives, sais, those go in a small bag, something like a duffel, or maybe a backpack to carry with me. I toss it to you. But here’s where I judge you. Pocket knife? Sai? I’m watching closer. Pocket knife says you’re practical, someone with simple taste, and looking to cause no harm. Sai says you’re either trained or trying too hard. Either way, I remember.
Last category, katanas, naginatas, fire axes, spiked bats. Those don’t get thrown, tossed, or kicked. No shortcuts, handle them with care, and have backup with me at times when I believe it is needed. You handle them with the same respect I do. Or you don’t handle them at all.”
Describe any other additional information that is notable in considering your character for the role of a black market dealer: (If inapplicable, put N/A)
Andreas has been in the crime scene for many years, whether it be with Gangs, organized crime groups, or simple deals made with the BMD themselves. His whole life, he dreamed of a time when he could be the one who provided the town with opportunity. Now that this chance has come, in his eyes, nothing can get in his way to stop him. Even from a young age, he was surrounded by this scene, and never got the full grasp of it, but his time in Karakura has given him plenty of experience to handle something like this. The information this single soul holds is more than what half the town can even think of. The decade he has spent learning and molding the scene behind the scenes, building, and breaking groups with a single move. Andreas mind is what is a super power to others, one day in a room, with a single white board, can possibly destroy the city. You may see this and think everyone may already know who this man is, but at the end of the day, the only few who know about the life he lives are those who may already be 6 feet under.
Full Legal Name:
My name is Andreas A-Rossa
Criminal Alias:
Call me 'TITAN'.
Age & Occupation: (Note: if you become a black market dealer, you will be permitted the Adult role)
Age? 26 Yeah a little on the younger side for this type of work huh? Occupation, nothing as of right now. Unless you want to speak about the underground "Gym" then nothing I could think of.
Gender & Marital Status:
I didn't think it would be hard to point this one out, I'm a male, and marital status? Single as I can be.
Ethnicity & Race:
Ethnic background huh? I'm Greek/Italian, a weird combination. For my race, I am white.
Known Languages:
The only languages I can speak are Japanese, Italian, and Spanish.
Former Associations/Occupations:
I don't have many former Associations, unless you want to speak about the "gangs" I have been a part of in the past. If that is what we are speaking of, then too many to count.
I worked as a server and bartender for quite some time. After that, I hustled for a little while just to get by.
Highest Level of Education:
College masters, I know, right? Someone who went so far in school is here to be a criminal once more.
Physical/Mental Ailments: (If inapplicable, put N/A)
None that I know of.
Known Family Members: (If inapplicable, put N/A)
Known family members, huh? The only one I could think of is that man Gwayne Aiuchi, he's pretty popular, from what I know.
Describe your character's appearance to the greatest detail:
You want to know what I look like? Alright. I’m six-foot-three, which means I’m usually the one craning my neck under doorframes and getting asked if I play basketball. The answer is no. I’m built more like a swimmer who forgot to bulk up, slim but muscular the kind of lean where you can see every tendon and fiber working when I move. My shoulders are broad enough to fill a jacket, but my waist is narrow, almost too narrow for my height, so dress shirts always need tailoring. My arms are long and roped with lean muscle not thick, but cut. If you look closely enough, you can notice the veins along my forearms before you notice my biceps. My chest is flat but defined, my ribs are visible when I stretch and my stomach stays naturally tight. I don’t spend hours in a gym I just move a lot. It’s a runner’s body or maybe a climber’s. Long legs, compact hips, calves that look like they were carved for function, not show.
My face is where the Italian and Greek decide to argue and make up at the same time. I’ve got dark, thick hair nice dark wavy brown and it's always falling over my right eyebrow no matter what I do with it. My skin is a olive gold, darker in the summer, and it shows every mood I flush across the cheekbones when I’m angry or embarrassed, which I hate. My eyes are deep blue, but if you catch me in sunshine, you will see little silver flakes around the pupils. My nose is straight with a slight bump on the bridge. High cheekbones, a jaw that’s sharp enough to cut, and a shallow cleft in my chin that people either find charming or weird. There’s a small white scar on my left jaw, just under the ear. Bicycle chain when I was nine. I never bothered to hide it.
My hands are longish fingered, almost delicate for a man my size, but the knuckles are prominent from where I use to fight all the time, and the veins stand out when I make a fist. Plenty tattoos, some that scale my chest and back, and one that wraps down my right arm like a serpent. I stand upright without trying my mother used to put books on my head as a kid if I even tried to slouch my back. I’ve learned to slouch just slightly in conversation so people don't feel talked down to. When I walk, the muscles in my back move under my shirt in a way I’ve been told is noticeable. I don’t see it. I just know I’m built long and lean, comfortable in my own skin, even with all of the scars from my past.
Describe your character's personality to the greatest detail:
I'm not an easy person to get to know. I'll tell you that upfront, I guard my privacy like some people guard their money not because I have something to hide, but because I've learned that what you keep to yourself can't be used against you. I don't volunteer much I don't do small talk. When I speak, I speak firmly, and I don't repeat myself. My voice sits low in my chest, someone once told me it sounds like gravel under a slow tire and that deeper undertone isn't an affectation. It's just where my words live. I've noticed people lean in when I talk which is fine, but they also assume I'm angry when I'm not. I'm rarely angry, I'm just... direct. I don't soften my sentences with apologies or laughter. If I say something, I mean it. That makes some people uncomfortable, and I'm okay with that.
But here's the part I don't usually admit out loud I'm not cold, I know I can seem that way arms crossed, face still, answering questions with two words instead of ten. But the truth is, I feel things deeply. I've just gotten very good at not showing it. Certain situations crack open without asking my permission. Kids, for example. I turn into someone I barely recognize around children softer, slower, patient in a way I'm not with adults. I'll sit on the floor and let a toddler hand me the same wooden block seventeen times, and I won't get bored. I'll make stupid voices for stuffed animals. I'll let them braid my the hair I have if they want. It's embarrassing honestly. They don't expect me to be anything other than what I am in that moment, and something I give into so easily.
The other thing is loyalty. If you're mine really mine, not just an acquaintance, but a true friend or even a lover. I will burn the world down for you. Quietly, without a speech. I won't tell you I love you every hour, but I'll remember how you take your coffee, and I'll show up at 2 a.m. without you asking, and I'll sit in silence next to you for hours if that's what you need. I'm not a soft person on the surface. My voice doesn't get gentle, my face doesn't rearrange itself into something warm. But if you pay attention—really pay attention—you'll notice the small things. The way I adjust a blanket without being asked. The way I'll stand between you and the wind without mentioning it. I don't cry at movies or make grand declarations, but when someone I care about is hurting, something in me shifts. The walls stay up, technically. But the door cracks open, and if you're lucky enough to see through that crack, you'll find someone who feels everything I just learned a long time ago that the world doesn't always deserve to see it.
Describe your character's backstory to the greatest detail: (200+ words minimum)
You want the story? Fine, I grew up in southern Italy, Calabria specifically. A Small town where everyone knew everyone, and everyone knew better than to ask questions about my father. He was Italian through and through, a big man with big hands and a silence that filled entire rooms. He did dirty work for a local ndrina that's the Calabrian mob, not the Neapolitan one, people always get that wrong. I never knew exactly what he did, packages delivered, debts collected, people who disappeared at a simple request. My mother was Greek, from a little island called Kastellorizo, and she was the only soft thing in our house. She would sing to me in Greek before bed and cook pastitsio on Sundays and pretend my father's midnight phone calls were about carpentry work. My sister Lucia was two years younger. She had our mother's laugh, loud and unapologetic, the kind that made everyone in the room smile even if they didn't know the joke. I loved her more than anything, I never told her that, and to this day I regret it more and more.
Life was rough but not in the way you might think. We weren't poor, my father made sure of that. The roughness was in the silence, in the way my mother would flinch when a car pulled up too fast, in the way I learned to read a room for exits before I learned to read a book. I was a quiet, watchful, careful kid. I didn't bring friends home, and I didn't talk about my family. By the time I was fourteen, I knew exactly what my father was, and I hated him for it. Not because it was wrong, I was too young for that kind of moral clarity but because it made my mother cry in the bathroom with the faucet running so we wouldn't hear, and because it meant he was never there. He was always out, working, always chasing some debt or some deal or some threat. Lucia didn't understand, she still drew him pictures. She still saved him a seat at dinner, I stopped saving his sorry ass a seat long before then.
When I was seventeen, everything ended. A house fire, electrical, they said, but I've never been sure. The fire started at night, while we were sleeping. I woke up to smoke so thick I couldn't see my own hands. I got out, I don't remember how, I just remember breaking a window and falling two stories into the garden and running back toward the house even as the neighbors held me back. My mother and Lucia didn't make it, they were found together in Lucia's room, and my mother had her arms wrapped around my sister. The investigators said it was a quick smoke inhalation before the flames. I don't know if that's supposed to make it better, It doesn't. My father wasn't home that night, he was out working. He showed up at the hospital in a bloody shirt and didn't say a word for three days. I haven't spoken to him since. I packed a bag, took the money my mother had hidden in a shoe box outside in the old shed, it was Greek money, she always kept Greek money for emergencies, and I left. I was seventeen. I didn't look back.
I ended up in this place called Karakura, in Japan. Why here? No good reason. I had a cousin of a cousin who had moved to Karakura years ago, and we were close enough I could trust him. I landed with nothing, no language, no family, no plan. I worked kitchen jobs, delivery jobs, and anything that kept me indoors and quiet. I learned Japanese the hard way by being wrong constantly, by mispronouncing everything, by nodding when I didn't understand, and then figuring it out later. Karakura was good to me in its own strange way. It's a town that doesn't ask questions, and people keep to themselves. There's a river that runs through the forest, and I used to sit by that river for hours just watching the water move. It reminded me of nothing. That was the point, I built a life there from nothing no mob, no fire, no ghosts. Just me, my silence, and a small apartment with a door that locked from the inside. I don't talk about my past because what is there to say? My sister is dead, my mother is dead, my father might as well be. I'm not telling you this for sympathy. You asked, my story, and that's the story. I don't tell it twice.
Describe an interaction that your character may have as a black market dealer: (This can be anything a weapon deal, an event they may be involved in, or maybe an interaction with a gang)
I tend to keep everything away from chaos and in check with my standards. Nothing too fancy, but nothing too safe. Every situation is handled differently of course, it depends on the weapons or things they want to buy. I'll just explain it quickly and simply.
Spray cans and fake IDs? Those go in a side bag I carry around with an associate or with me. Spray cans you can get at public stores anyway, so no need to get fancy. IDs are small enough to hide under other items for easy concealment, no harm, no foul.
Masks? I clip those to a strap I wear across my chest. When it’s your turn, I just throw it to you, not because you’re beneath me, I just don’t want to get close to you.
Now, if you’re after a baseball bat, pipe wrench, crowbar, or spiked glove… those go in a duffel bag. I zip it up, set it down, and kick it across the floor to you. You want it? Then reach in the bag and grab it while I stand over you waiting for you to run along after.
Smaller, sharp stuff, pocket knives, tactical knives, sais, those go in a small bag, something like a duffel, or maybe a backpack to carry with me. I toss it to you. But here’s where I judge you. Pocket knife? Sai? I’m watching closer. Pocket knife says you’re practical, someone with simple taste, and looking to cause no harm. Sai says you’re either trained or trying too hard. Either way, I remember.
Last category, katanas, naginatas, fire axes, spiked bats. Those don’t get thrown, tossed, or kicked. No shortcuts, handle them with care, and have backup with me at times when I believe it is needed. You handle them with the same respect I do. Or you don’t handle them at all.”
Describe any other additional information that is notable in considering your character for the role of a black market dealer: (If inapplicable, put N/A)
Andreas has been in the crime scene for many years, whether it be with Gangs, organized crime groups, or simple deals made with the BMD themselves. His whole life, he dreamed of a time when he could be the one who provided the town with opportunity. Now that this chance has come, in his eyes, nothing can get in his way to stop him. Even from a young age, he was surrounded by this scene, and never got the full grasp of it, but his time in Karakura has given him plenty of experience to handle something like this. The information this single soul holds is more than what half the town can even think of. The decade he has spent learning and molding the scene behind the scenes, building, and breaking groups with a single move. Andreas mind is what is a super power to others, one day in a room, with a single white board, can possibly destroy the city. You may see this and think everyone may already know who this man is, but at the end of the day, the only few who know about the life he lives are those who may already be 6 feet under.