Post by Hunter Dedaj on Apr 15, 2011 8:45:16 GMT -5
And yes my name is,
[/size]HunterRyanDedaj[/font][/size]
None of these chicks can't fuck with me baby
Aint none of these chicks can't fuck with my baby[/size][/color][/center]
I just have to know, who are you?
Hunter Ryan Dedaj
So how many years have you walked this earth?
twenty-seven
Whats the exact date you began to breath?
November 5
Curiosity isn't a burden, whats your sexuality?
Straight
Hm... what gender are you?
Male
So who are your friends and occupation?
None of yer fuckin' business
You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?
Trey Songz
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This is who I am,
[/size][/font][/center]What do you like, love, or desire exactly?
guns, sex, pretty ladies, money, drugs
And you seem to hate a lot, what do you despise?
red, bloods, whiners, pussies, stubborn-ass bitches (glance to Andre)
We all feel like a surge of energy lies within us.
management skills, weaponry skills, monetarial skills, sex, smooth-talkin
Your weaknesses? Everyone has a Kryptonite.
pretty girls, sex, drugs, alcohol
How do you how you see you self?
I'm a hot muthafucka, tell you right now. Just look at me, can't you fuckin' tell that I'm the hottest piece of ass around? Well back off, I'm taken. Ha! Nah. Growin' up, I was always the lean kind of guy, not that athletic but mostly it was 'cause I dun like people as a general rule. People stayed away from me and I stayed away from them. Dun matter a bit ta me what they thinka me, but I think I look damn good. I'm kinda tallish, 6'3" and lean muscle from havin' ta deal with stupid mo'fos, and runnin' from the popo don't hurt none either.
I got a rich dark-chocolate skin tone, and what I weigh ain't nonnayadamnbusiness. Actually, I dun even know how much I fuckin' weigh, wha's that tell ya? Ha! My hair? Eh. Black. Sometimes in corn rows, sometimes not, it don't make much of a difference to me, and that can change from week to week dependin' on my mood. I got brown eyes, and a huge dick. Nah, really. I ain't fibbin'. Makes all the other guys jealous, 'cause you know yer honey be wantin' her some black dick baby. I love the looks the ladies give me, even if I am taken.
Attitudes can kill too, what is your personality?
Well I'm just a fuckin' sweetheart. Anyone who says different is a fuckin' liar. I'm a bad mo'fo when I need ta be, which is quite often in my line of work. If work is what ya could call what I do, I s'pose. I really dun like people. I dun even like most of my crew, bunch of pussies and whiners is what they is. Damn bitches need to learn to grow a fuckin' pair of balls. I ain't shy of shootin' a bitch down if they whine to fuckin' much. I hate whiners. I might be considered a bit gun-happy. What the fuck, I love my gun. Best damn invention since sliced fuckin' bread. I'd sleep with my gun if I weren't sure I'd shoot my damn dick off. You know, 'cause its so huge.
I ain't shy of blood, kinda like it actually, makes a nice pattern on the ground when it splatters. Better than them fuckin' ink blot tests. You ever tried to read patterns in blood splatter? It's fuckin' awesome. You can see some pretty trippy shit if yer stoned too. Yeah, okay. I'm a druggie. So fuckin' what? I'm a fuckin' thug, it kinda goes with the fuckin' territory, don't it? I like cigarettes too. Best damn invention since... the gun. Two things I'm never without. My gun, and my cigarettes, bitch. And heaven help ya if you smoke my last one. I'll shoot yer fuckin' ass so fast you won't even be able to reach the damn fuckin' filter. Bitch. Stealin' my damn cigarettes... what the fuck were we talkin' about? Oh. Right. Personality.
Yeah. As you can see, I am a fuckin' sweetheart. To a few people. Just not most people. Daisy sees the tender side of me more then anyone else. Others who see it? Andre... Dante... and... nah, I think that's about it. I dun like weaknesses. Sweetness makes ya weak. It's why I gotta protect Daisy so much. She's the sweetest person on the fuckin' planet. Hell, even ta people that beat her. But don't even get me started on that right now. Dumb bitches need to just fuckin' die. Okay, so maybe I'm a bit bloodthirsty too. So fuckin' what?
three well written semi-long paragraphs on your personality
How do you usually dress?
I've learned that the clothes make the man. The way you dress influences how everyone else looks at ya. Not that I really give a shit, but the fact that I can scare people just by dressin' a certain way kind of amuses the fuck outta me. So needless to say I dress a typical gangsta style, yet the attitude behind it is what makes it so effective. I wear a lot of blue, obviously, but I like the darker shades, ya know. Navy and shit like that. I ain't much in to the lighter colors. I can even do royal blue, 'cause I am royalty, after all. The way you walk, talk, act, dress, and look is yer style. Point of all, I got swag.
My boy, Andre may think he's got swag, but nah. I taught him that. He learnt it from me, therefore, as the original, I am the ultimate. Andre ain't quite perfected it yet. Give 'im a couple years and he'll get it. But he ain't quite there yet. Always got a gun on me, naturally, and there are places in my jeans where my cigarettes have worn the color off the threads, but that just kinda adds to it, don't ya think? 'sides, my shirts tend ta cover that anyway, so it ain' like its any big thing. Dante will have swag when he's old enough to know what the fuck it is. Dre and I'll both make sure of that. Gotta teach him how to attract the booties. Andre seems to have perfected that much at least. Hoe. But I love 'im. Now... what were we talkin' about again...?
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My past is nothing special,
[/size][/font][/center]And your parents are?
Andrea Dedaj -- fourty-three -- Unemployed -- Resides in a Mental Hospital
DeAndre Dedaj -- deceased -- unknown to all but Hunter and his mother
Did you have someone to argue with when you were younger?
Andre Dedaj -- twenty-one -- thug -- doesn't know they are siblings
Dante Dedaj -- fifteen -- student -- doesn't know they are siblings
Any wild animals running around your house?
Had a rat once when I was growin' up. 'Til it got shot.
So I wanna know about your past, present, and maybe even future?
What about my past you lookin' ta know? Does it really matter all that much? Stop bein' so fuckin' nosy! *sigh* Alright. Fine. Well, I'll tell ya what I know. I's born in Mississippi, my Momma was just sixteen when she had me. Stupid bitch got herself knocked up, I didn't figure out 'til I was like twenty-five who my old man was. But I'll get ta that. Left me at home mostly with my grandparents 'til she got outta high school. Don't know where the fuck she got the money ta move ta California, maybe my old man gave it to her. I dun really know or give a shit. But I was raised in LA. We was pretty well off, well, my Momma was anyway. She got checks every month, I know now from my old man, but I didn't know then where she got the money from.
She got me the bare necessities, and lavished upon herself. Selfish teen phases, I guess never got broke. But its whatever. I had more than most kids I knew. First day of second grade, I'd already established to the other kids the previous year that I weren't takin' no shit from them, was when I'd met her. It was on the bus, headin' ta school, and I'd noticed that some of the older kids was pickin' on a new kid. First grader. A white girl. Well that weren't right, even if she was white. So I got up, an' I moved to sit next to 'er. She was scared at first... curled up all tight-like. I let it be known then and there that those who fucked with the girl was fuckin' with me. She was pretty. probably my first crush. I think I even got her a dollar box of chocolates for valentine's day that year.
From then, though, we was inseperable. Friends 'til the end, I s'pose. 'course, probably helped that she needed me even outside of school. From a young age, she used ta sneak in the winda of my old house. There was an old heatin' system next to my window that she'd climb on to get in my winda. Totally innocent, of course. I mean, shit, we was like... 8 and 9 the first time. From then on it became a habit. Her old man had a drinkin' problem. And he got nasty when he drunk. Bastard. Still makes my skin crawl, ya know? So she'd come to my place, escape the madness so to speak. She was far to nice to have come from a house like that. I was the hardass... the one that was there fer her when she needed someone to cry to. My hatred for her old man only grew with time.
In high school, it was easy to see that my best friend was easily the most gorgeous creature at school. We hadn't really seriously dated... not really. Childhood couples not withstanding, neither of us really understood the terms boyfriend or girlfriend back then. But a pretty blond white girl in a high school full of niggers? That just screamed trouble. I was kinda glad I still had a bit of intimidation, even to the older guys at school. In high school, I finally was sick of havin' the bare minimum. Sick of my Momma keepin' all the money fer herself. So I went out to get a job that I could do after school. That was how I got involved with Big Mike. He was head of the Crips, an' he gave me a job sellin' fer him. I was... 15, I guess. Wasn't until I turned 16 that he initiated me into his gang.
Somehow, everyone at school learned real quick that I really meant business then. 'course, it weren't long after that... that Daisy was attacked. That fuckin' old man of hers again, but this time, he'd gone to damn far. Don't know where Momma was that night when she came to my place, her clothes all ripped up. When I found out that her old man had tried ta rape her, my hatred for the man exploded into a newfound rage. I stayed with her. 'Til she got off ta sleep, ya know? Then I got the new gun Big Mike'd given me, stuck it in the back of my pants, and I went huntin'. I went ta her house, glad that her sisters weren't home and he was there, drunker 'n a hornet on rotten apples. He got what was coming to 'im. Fifteen years of abuse brought down on his fuckin' head. By me.
At the end, I was standin' over 'im, gun aimed right at his fuckin' forehead. I'd told 'im if he ever touched Daisy again... I'll kill his sorry fuckin' ass. As it stood, he could be of use to me. See, he was a politician. Had aspirations to be big in power. Already he was some important shit in congress. Senate or House or somethin'. I didn't really care enough to know. But I did know that he would have pull. Pull that Big Mike would want. So I kept him around. I dunno if Daisy ever found out about what I did that night, she never said nothin' to me about it. But he didn't abuse her no more after that. Damage was done, of course, she still came to my house at night, but still. Weren't the point. Things went on about normal after that, 'til my Uncle in Mississippi died.
I was twenty-two then, by then I'd gotten my own damn place, made it well off fer myself thanks ta Big Mike. But it was then that my cousins came ta stay wit' my Momma. Well, knowin' my Momma, I went over and I checked in on 'em. I'd never met 'em before, but they was good kids. Andre, the older one, was about 16 or 17. And he'd already dropped outta high school. I knew the feelin' he had. I'd finished school, but I'd heard my Momma talking about Uncle DeAndre. He was a lazy fuck. Andre'd had to take care of himself and his little brother, Dante. So I offered Andre the same option I had at his age. I got him in the Crips, and he was able to take care of himself and get himself a place not long after that. 'course, when I was about twenty-five, found out that Momma had a mental disease. I can't remember the name of it, but it don't matter.
She got put in a mental hospital, and Andre, by that time of legal age, got custody of Dante. Of course, one day when I was gettin' my Momma situated in her new home... she didn't seem ta realize that I was me. I think she thought I was my old man. I was shocked, 'cause I didn't think she'd known who my old man was. Found out then... that she'd gotten knocked up by her older brother, DeAndre. Which made Andre and Dante my brothers. She'd told me that I had ta keep the boys safe. Talkin' like I was my old man. That I couldn't tell Hunter their secret. Well. That blew that secret outta the water didn't it? I felt bad then, for gettin' Andre in to shit and gettin' him in the Crips, but I was already risin' in power anyway. I could take good care of 'em then.
Now, at twenty-seven, I'm Big Mike's right hand. 'course... I dunno what happened to the other one... I ain't seen 'im since I dropped his body in the bay. But that ain't the point. Dante's fifteen now, he'll be sixteen in a couple of months, and I'll make him the same offer that I made Andre. That Big Mike made to me. Gotta keep an eye out for the boy, after all, I can do that better if he's in the gang. Otherwise... he's just another civilian. Another innocent in the crossfire without a way to defend himself. Nah. best to get him in the gang. Andre won't be happy. But its for the best, after all. [/size]
Who are you exactly,
[/size][/font][/center]And so who are you really?
Jaded
So your how old again?
19
You've been roleplaying for how long?
eh
How many other characters do you have?
maybe one, maybe two, you may never know
Hm... anything else I should know?