Jump to content

Graffiti [M-LVS]


Recommended Posts


[SIZE=1][B][COLOR=red]Allie "Cross" Johnson - No Group[/B]

[B]Juilus "Gram" Rellion - No Group[/B]

[B]Miguel "Mark" Cascopyre - Night Terrors[/B]

[B]Catherine "Cat" Haruna - Black Lynx[/B]

[B]Cameron "Temptation" Gerard - Night Terrors[/B]

[B]Kasandra "Chameleon" Lee[/B]

[B]Kai Elric - Kaotic Society[/B]

(Side Note: Since Ohkami wants to join the Kaotic Society Neuvoxetere has until Thursday to finish, it may complicate matters if you character falls out. You guys can start however you want, this RPG won't work in a chapter system. I myself will start with very little in the present, but most in the past, but you have the idea by now. Feel free to introduce other gangs as long as you don't make their players OOC or over power them too easily [God-modding])[/COLOR]

[B][CENTER]But that?s just it, isn?t it? In Tsuket City, no matter what, there?s always the gangs of vandals. It wasn?t there fault. Kids had always had it rough, the police didn?t like kids, so most kids would miss out on school if they get arrested for no reason. Law in Tsuket says that no matter what age you still have the same penalties. Imagine that for a baby boy. Maybe that?s why there are so many gangs in Tsuket; maybe they?re there for the thrill. The thrill of knowing that if they?re caught the risk is very high, the thrill of knowing that every day they express their feelings on the wall they could die in prison. Tsuket City is like no other place. It?s your average, dark in places and happy in places city, yet for the young adults it contains an extra meaning because of their past.

Welcome, my little one, to Tsuket City. Like the boy with the can, you?re out on the streets with your friends and gangs for a reason. You had it hard; you messed up somewhere, now you?re in for a thrill, the thrill of the hard police of Tsuket. Just remember not to go over any graffiti ? it?s there for a reason.[/B][/CENTER][/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][B]Miguel had always loved his graffiti. It was his, he deserved it less then anything in the world. And when Miguel Cascopyre painted his mark on the wall it was there to stay. To stay. No one would go over Miguel?s work, not even god himself.

He was repainting a piece he had done in an alleyway, with most of his team with him. Cameron was at the other end of the alley, also painting with a few other members. They only had a few cans left, but that was nothing to worry about. They had loads back in their stash, a lot more. Red, especially, one of Miguel?s favourite colours.

It wasn?t long before the cat logo was replaced by a jet wash of colours, all spelling out ?Night Terrors? in a jagged, almost unreadable way. If you lived on the streets then you could read graffiti, it was just a matter of looking carefully. Miguel wasn?t going to let the cat be seen by anyone else, it had gone over his work so now he was painting over it himself. Blue and red flames were being painted from the tip of the letters now. Almost done.


?Night Terror? had literally engulfed and swallowed the cat picture behind it. You couldn?t even see the yellow eyes. Miguel was proud of what he had done. The number one rule in Tsuket was that if you saw graffiti, you left it, and never went over it. Of course, a lot of gangs hated each other and didn?t respect that law, Miguel didn?t sometimes. Especially when someone went over his work. If they did that then he would go over theirs, again and again.

He kicked a spray can down the alley, right at Cameron?s leg. She looked down at it, and smiled.

?What?re you painting?? Miguel asked coming up from behind her and Joshua, another young member who was more like a punk than a human.

?Eagle.? Cameron replied, plainly.

?Cats eat eagles, now an eagle eats the cat on the wall. Nice job, I like the claws. I wonder who did this? it?s probably the Black Lynx, or maybe the Kaotic Club, I?m not too sure, I don?t know much about them?? Miguel complimented. He couldn?t help but release that the claws reminded him of someone, someone who he had come across during his final year in prison, a man who had no respect. He stared blankly for a while, half musing to himself, half growling. He was trying to remember who it was.

Cameron waited for Joshua to get back to the others down the alley to get more paint, when she spoke; ?what?s wrong?? she asked.

?Nothing. It reminds me of someone.? Miguel replied in a low tone. Ah, he remembered. A smile jerked across his face, a cold one.


?Miguel Lewoski, did I ever tell you about him??

[I]The sound of a cage being slid to the side, one from the lift no doubt, could be heard from down the corridor. Miguel looked back to Joshua with a worried look on his face, but he only got a smirk from the cowboy who sunk back into the shadows, laughing. Miguel knew from that moment he had made a mistake to even think about rejecting, he had made a mistake when he got landed in Tsuket?s toughest prison, anyway. Dumb move on Miguel?s part, very dumb.

He gulped when two guards walked past, stopping in front of his cell. The two guards seemed like ants compared to the huge prisoner, whose face Miguel still couldn?t see. The prisoner looked as if he could charge through a building with ease, and still have enough energy to run across Australia. What made Miguel worry more was the fact that his hands were handcuffed in front of him and chained to his feet. No one in the prison, or so Miguel thought, had been chained like that, not even himself.

One guard slid open the cell door and the other pushed the prisoner in. They didn?t hesitate the lock the door, nor did they take off the prisoner?s chains or handcuffs. They just walked away, ran, actually. The prisoner stood in front of the cell door with his head down; still it was as if he was staring right at Miguel. With so much height Miguel wouldn?t be surprised if he were looking at him. Of all the people in the world Miguel had to wind up with a ten-foot gorilla, worst than Primal (a friend in jail).

The tall man walked forward, just enough for Miguel to see the top of his head from the moonlight, which burst through the holes in the wall. The man?s hair was dyed blue and a bit long, but it wasn?t neat. It looked as though a dog had given him a haircut; his hair was all over the place, jagged, half-cut and half-ripped. It covered his ears and most of his forehead, even some of his eyes, so Miguel thought.

?Gee, they forgot to take the chains off.? The prisoner mumbled in a low monotone. He lifted his hands up, examining his chains, and then clenched his hands. Slowly he began to move them apart until the chain reached its limit, then he just ripped the chain in two. It shattered like nothing, like it wasn?t even metal. The links all fell on the ground and the prisoner was released from his chains, almost.

He grabbed the chain at his feet and tore it apart. Miguel got up from his bed and backed away from the man. He had good reason to be afraid; anyone who could rip apart a chain with ease was trouble. Big trouble.

?Who might you be?? asked the man. He looked up at Miguel, more like down actually, and smirked. On the right side of his face was a tattoo; by the looks of things it seemed to Miguel like an eagle?s claw on the side of his face from his ear to his eye, which was indeed strange.

?You first.? Miguel gulped.

?I asked you first,? the man answered.

?Miguel Cascopyre.?

The man rudely gave no reply. Not even a breath of his name.

?And you?? prompted Miguel.

?I don?t want to tell you.? The man replied coldly. Miguel frowned at him, folded his arms and shook his head. He didn?t care how big he was, Miguel wasn?t afraid of anyone anymore, besides, Miguel was looking carefully now he the guy didn?t seem to big.

?You know how rude that is? Disrespectful, as well. You?re a new guy here and you?re already making powerful enemies.? Miguel lied. The man just laughed at him.

Faster than Miguel could see he slammed Miguel?s head into the bars with his large hands, and held him there. Miguel?s forehead was bleeding, thick blood trickling down his face and he felt as if a rhino had just rammed him half way down town, the man seemed to have the build of a rhino so it didn?t surprise him.

?If you must know I?m Kane, who has a reputation bigger then yours. Not in here, perhaps, still I?m well known. When a few of my friends get landed in here you?re my target, kid. And I don?t believe you have respect, I can hear any insults at me.? The man laughed. He let go of Miguel?s face, leaving Miguel sat beside the bars and wiping his forehead. Miguel meanwhile sat down on the bed, smirking.

In the darkness from the other Miguel saw an inmate, a friend he knew, mouthing the words at him:

?You?re in deep shit.?[/I]

?Sounds like a jerk.?

?He was a jerk. I had problems with him, lost a few good friends who thought they?re get killed if they got caught in any of it? your picture reminds me of him, you know what happened to him?? asked Miguel. Cameron didn?t reply, she just shook her head.

Miguel smirked.

?Well, my friend was a bird racer, he happened to have some eagles, and stuff. Kane Lewoski was killed by an eagle that attacked his face, right near the tattoo.?

A smirk grew over Miguel?s face, followed by a laugh. It was funny, to him, in his way. He picked up the can, and began painting again.[/SIZE][/B]
Link to comment
Share on other sites

[i]God blesses those whose hearts are pure, for they will see God.
--Matthew 5:8[/i]

The cemetary was relatively quiet that evening, spare the low hissing of a spraycan. A dark figure croutched near inner the southern wall that skirted the parameter of the graveyard, spraying neatly lettered script onto the wall, 'REPENT' glistening in the moonlight as a message on their back. Various curses and poorly sprayed phalic images were now covered by the quotation of Matthew, a simple yet decadent design of black and white.

"A holy phrase for a holy place," The tagger spoke, standing to brush malard strands from her face, "All's well again it seems."

Allie Johnson, more commonly known as "Cross", smiled at her work. The offensive images on the plaster wall had been restored into a normal religion-theme once again. Allie sighed at the thought of those who would have the gall to cover her work as she looked down the long stretch of wall covered with other bits and pieces of her previous scrawlings. Regardless of who trespassed upon her teritory, she had righted things and would make sure to keep a carefull eye out for oposing taggers in the future.

those who took care to respond to the crosses and wings on the outside of the North Tusket Cemetary would know that this was her stomping ground. Unless it was a troupe of teenages not street wary enough to keep their distance or their sprayings to themselves. It was not Allie's nature to harm others for their crimes against the unspoken tagger law, but she would not take it lightly were she to catch anyone covering her work.

"Be not overcome with evil, but overcome evil with good." Allie mused to herself distantly, remebering why she had taken to the streets in the first place. She tried not to let the past creep into her thoughts as she crept quietly up the rows of clean tombstones (spiritual or not, no one dared tag a gravestone), being carefull not to disturb any of those that slept there. She swiftly made her way to the entrance, hopping the high front wall that was also covered with her sprayings and landed on the street below, stalking away into the darkness.

The night was young, and there was plenty more work to be done. Allie wanted to inspect the now abandoned East-side Tusket chapel and graveyard, to see if there were any walls to be salvaged inside or out for her purposes. The tiny chapel had recently been declaired unsafe by the City building council and was left for ruin by those who owned it. Allie imagined that the chapel itself would serve as a better source of shelter rather than her recent place of residence under the eaves of tombs. Plus, there were clean walls among the headstones, begging to be covered by her scripture.

She thought of putting it off until a better night presented itself, but she knew a gang would claim it and ruin her chances at furthuring her reputation. So she strode up the streets, hidden under a hooded shirt and swishing along in dress slacks covered by a short skirt. Her Red boots clunking along with each step, up odd alleyways, trailing to the chappel.[/color][/font]
Link to comment
Share on other sites

[size=1]Cameron was silent for another twenty minutes as they painted. The eagle was in calm flight, but the eyes were raging with an inner fire. Her eyes were far away, as they often were, and the only recognition she gave Joshua as he came back with more paint was taking the can from him. Before she realized what she was doing, she had given the eagle a companion ? a vicious wolf, fangs bared, ready to strike.

Thoughts flew through the girls mind, and suddenly she was bent over double on the pavement, fighting to control her stomach. She lost it, and vomited on the ground. Miguel and Joshua were instantly by her, and Miguel tried to hold her shoulders still as she shook. The contents of her stomach sat in a puddle before her, and she closed her eyes, attempting to swallow.

?Joshua, water. Katie, Tylenol or somethin?.? Cameron could hear two pairs of feet running off. Miguel managed to straighten her up, and asked her, ?Cam, what happened?? Cameron shrugged. ?I? dunno. I think I might have inhaled some of the paint.? Miguel was watching her face. The others backed off, and Miguel said in a low voice, ?That isn?t it, Cameron.?

Cameron put her fingers to her temples, eyes closed. ?Let me tell you a little something, Miguel. My memories were never happy ones. You know that. Some of them make me scared, while others-? She gestured to the pile of vomit. ?Others make me sick. I just had a flashback I didn?t even know was real.?


A tall boy with jet black hair and dark brown eyes spun on his heel, glaring at the small woman who stood in the hall behind him. His height of 6?4? topped hers by 9 inches, but she wasn?t phased.

?Get back here and do those damn dishes!?

Dennis sneered. ?I don?t have to. You can?t make me. I don?t live here, woman, and I need to get home.? His mother was rageful. ?You will do your share as long as you plan to keep coming back and make messes!?

A spiteful laugh and the other brother, Andrew, came into the picture. ?You clean it up yourself.? His eyes were the same blue as Cameron?s, and his hair darker than Dennis?.

Cameron came in the front door, backpack slung over her shoulders. She saw the angry faces, and her smile dropped. She tossed her candy on the bench just inside the door, and slipped past, muttering something. Her mother caught her by the collar. ?Your late, young lady.? Cameron said something, and her mother hit her upside the head.

That was it. Dennis came over and pulled Cameron from their mother?s grasp, and cuffed the woman sharply on the head. Cameron started to get scared. These fights were never good. Cameron couldn?t get up the stairs before a glass flew from the kitchen table straight at her mother?s head. It shattered against the wall as it missed. Cameron screamed, and-[/b][/I]

Miguel was shaking her. She was screaming. Joshua and Katie were looking nervous, as were the other two standing off to the side. ?Cam! Snap out of it!? Cameron looked up into Miguel?s eyes, and wrenched away from him. ?Don?t TOUCH me!? She yelled.[/size]
Link to comment
Share on other sites


Kasandra was relieved to see her 6 year old younger brother was doing so well in school. It had been a rough three years since they had moved into a small apartment together especially since her mother had lost her santity after Boden died. Sure her father still payed half of the child support after the divorce, but it was hard to play the mother role at age 18. Still she loved her brother more than anything.

Kasia's thoughts came to a hault when she came across an interesting picture of an eagle flying on a wall. She could see that it covered up something dark, mysterious, curious she sat down to take a closer look at it. Sometimes artworks had meanings, messages, that people who were not familar with the ways of the streets could not see and uncode them. Everything to her was like a code, a puzzle, just waiting to be cracked or solved. Even though she had never done graffiti in her lifetime, she appreciated it as an artwork. A small yellow chameleon lay on the corner of the painting, the person who painted over the first artist's must have missed it. "Another one this week, geesh. What do you think they are doing making a fool out of me? Damn frauds give me a bad name." Kasia sighed, she tapped her heels with frustration as she began to decode why she was being called upon. There were many imposters who had taken her name in vain, using it as a scheme to pull in a rival gang member or to get information. She hadn't done anyone favors in a long time, mostly because her main objective lately was to save up money for when Jacob went to college.

The chameleon symbol was a cry for help. Although lately since the accident, it has been abused for other purposes. The color determines how urgent help was needed, and what was needed. Yellow being the easiest and Red being the highest involving the most violence and dangerous. Red often meant death was possible, and was considered a last option of defense. She shook her head hautily, she guessed it had to be the Black Lynx gang since she was in their territory. Her reputation had mellowed down in the past few years, and she had escaped for a time, the life of the streets and the danger that came along with it. She had a responsibility for her brother now. But still, she could not escape from who she was a hustler.

No one downtown could tell that Kasia otherwise known as Alex at times, lived in a small apartment with a child with her high-fashion shoes, her red dress on, her expensive necklaces, earrings and purse. She ignored the whistles and hollars she got from men as she walked down the streets that stared at her long legs. Beauty was just a scheme. She did not see it as a gift. No one guessed that she could not afford her clothes, that she had taken them off a man who had no use for them anyway. He had given them to her, smitten by her beauty and posture until it came the time where she had to break it off. She did not like to crush young men's hearts, but in her eyes they had it coming to them. Besides, it was not like she was a hooker, for she did not need to sleep with them to get any possessions. And she could always get them herself.

"If only they knew the truth" She strutted down the street laughing, looking to and from different stores around the center of Tsuket City. She had lost faith in love and loyalty, there was only men and their thoughts on riches and beauty. She glanced at a small dog that was scratching at a car window and winked at him. "You and I are the same, locked, trapped, inside a lie, isn't that right poochie?" She reached her hand inside the car and gentle scratched the puppy's ears. Her belly rumbled. It ached.

"Ah I'm so hungry. Sorry poochie but I gotta get some lunch, I'm starved." Kasia exclaimed as she glanced around to the crowd of people around here. She spotted a man, tall, handsome, young, kind, and naive. "Perfect" She thought as she began to back up slowly, and purposely dropped her purse. Before she knew it, he had rammed into her knocking her lightly on the floor, but she knew how to exagerate it. "Ow!" Kasia yelped gripping a hold of her head and looking shocked at the man standing above her. His face was full of sympathy and strained, "Ah are you okay miss, I'm sorry I didn't even see you down there" He replied to her yelping and offered her a hand up. This time she acted outraged.

"You know, you should watch where you are going. You could seriously hurt people when your not watching where your going!" Kasia baffled, she looked upset, her hair a bit tangled, and her knees and dress scuffed with dirt. She began to brush off the pieces of dirt to show her frustration with him. " I'm really sorry, I was just on my way to work, I wasn't thinking. Are you alright? Can I get you anything? How about I buy you some coffee and such to make up for this." He pleaded innocently, and offered to buy her a new outfit if that one was ripped. "I suppose I could use a cup of coffee, very well. I hate decaf though. Just to let you know" She scoffed as she walked alongside the man to the nearest coffee shop. He seemed satisfied that he got her to calm down, but if only he knew.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

[color=Navy]Kai lay propped up on her pillows with a drawing pad resting on her folded knees and a mini computer on the bed next to her. She was twirling her pen around and picked up the computer, typing in things for the newest art she was planning on doing. She had checked for the right colours that would suit it and the best size without it looking oversized. Kai picked up the drawing pad and looked at it frowning, there was something missing.

The picture was of a snarling wolf head, bearing his teeth and his fur was bristled and unkept. The colours were dark and had shadowing. Kai remembered and did a scrawl in the bottom corner which was her graffiti signature, and next to it she put KS for the name of her group, Kaotic Society.

Kai got up off the bed and went to a large cupboard, opening it and looking at the array of spraycans all displayed on the shelves. Kai took a while to rummage but emerged with a number of colours that she would be using tonight. She placed them on her table and went back to her bed.

She put her computer and pad aside and lay down on her bed, she started to think of when she had gone out alone constantly, and then when she had met Celi. It took a while but Kai had finally gotten her approval and was allowed to join, though there weren't many.

Kai smirked and held up her pendant that was on a silver chain around her neck, that sign was one of her other symbols. Then she looked at her ring, she'd had it for a long time, along with the pendant. The Serpent Cross and the Winged Serpent around a triangle were the signs she carried around with her, and the wolf symbolised her attitude.

[i][b]'Until tonight....'[/b][/i] she thought as she drifted off to bed.

[color=Black][b]OOC: [/b]I didn't really know what to post.[/color]
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Gram took one last look at his drawing pad for his newest graffiti project. It would take him all night to finish, but it would be the best he had ever done, and that was saying something. He threw the pad in his backpack, and placed all the spray cans he needed in their separate pouches.

"Ma, I'm leavin', I'll be back sometime tonight. There's a party. Call me on my cell. Later." He said curtly to his mother. His mom called amiably in agreement, having no idea he was actually going to spray up some concrete wall.

Gram put on his rollerblades, putting his shoes in another pocket in his backpack, and set off for the inner-city. He skated faster after several years of practice, and he knew most of the shortcuts around town.

He bladded down hill, grinding on a rail, and jumping off of that onto a parked car. From there, he used his momentum to jump on the wall, his hands grabbing the top ledge. He easily pulled himself up, and continued skating on the roof of apartments which were adjoined for blocks. Soon he made it to the nearest graf. hangout. He saw an eagle, but shrugged it off and laughed.

"I can do better than that. These taggers are painting stick figures now or something. They need practice." He made his way down into the alley, where several people already were. Some guy was on the ground, screaming like he was in pain, but he shrugged him off. His crew was tending to him.

He skated down the long alley until he looked only to be a child from the other side of the alley. He dropped his backpack on the ground, put on his mp3 player, and took out a can of spray paint. He tossed it in the air, as it spun around, and he caught it, shook it up, and began his preliminary outline in black.

He knew black was the priming color, followed then by white, and then other colors. His tag was planned to take up around twelve feet in length, and five feet in height. It would be grand, to say the least. He sprayed with a steady hand and a practiced eye, watching his outline take shape on the red-bricked wall. He stood back once he had finished applying the white and black coats.

"The Big Apple is bruised but sweet
and if you choose to eat
you could lose your teeth.
Many crews retreat.
Nightly news repeat
the killings, savages,
the NASDAQ averages..." he trailed off, trying to figure out which part of the song to put in... but he listened closer to the song. It had more meaning to him. Something he had seen before

[i]"I can't take it, ya'll, my chest's heaving ...
sigh before we die
like the last train leaving."[/i]

He looked at the ground in slight shock, then stared at his mural so far. It was a gray metro train, leaving the platform and a man riddle with bullet holes lying down. It had meaning. It was something had seen before...

[b][i]"I told you, get off our turf, bitch." A leader spoke to the other crew.

"Fuck you!" An enemy cried out, breaking the silence the of night with gun shots ringing out, and the rest of the crew running away. Even the leader's own crew had abandoned him. The leader shuddered in pain, and then became still, exhaling his last breath as the enemy gang left on the metro train.

Gram just stood in disbelief, and ran home, shaking with adrenaline. He couldnt've saved the man anyway.[/i][/b]

His mood became very somber, as he finished the piece, spraying a bleeding rose at the bottom of the wall, and signed it:

[i]Rest in Peace... to you all.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

[SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]Cat stared out the window and sighed. She was bored and there was nothing to do. Tag something, of course, but she was still waiting for her gang to get there. And besides that, they still didn't know where they would go. The graveyard, perhaps? [I]Oh well, we'll figure it out when the time comes.[/I] She thought. Almost immediatly after she did, she saw two older girls and a boy the same age as her in her doorway. "What's up?" She asked gruffly, noticing her comrades' distressed looks.

"You remember that alley we did the other night? Night Terrors painted over it." The oldest girl being seventeen, Allysa, reported. "But it's only fair since we [I]did[/I] go over their own. You've gotta admit it was coming to us." The boy, Jake, admitted. Cat scowled and picked up her paint cans. "Back to the alley. Now." She ordered, beggining to leave, her crew following soon after.

At the alley, the Black Lynx gang could easily tell that two things. First, they knew that the Night Terrors had barely just left. Second, someone else was painting something. "Forget them." Cat muttered. She went straight to the new art. One was the words "Night Terrors" covering up Jake's jaguar. Then, an eagle covered up Cat's own feline, with a wolf next to it. "How amateur." The last girl, Natalie, commented scornfully. Cat wasn't listening at the moment. She was already starting.

A new idea as revenge had popped into Catherine's mind. Within a small time, she had already drawn a new cat, a black panther in a hunting stance, with an eagle in it's jaws. It was also swiping a mighty claw at a wolf she had drawn, which was already injured. She knew it could be symbolized as a rivalry, but to her, it clearly read "Don't mess with us." She signed the art near the cat's tail with a skillful "BL."

As she stood up, she coughed. "Damn." She muttered, sealing her eyes shut for a moment and steadying herself. She nearly always stood too close to the wall and ended up inhaling a little of the fumes. "Ready?" The gang asked. Cat nodded, and they ditched the alley, content with their revenge.
Sorry I didn't post any sooner. I had no idea it was started >.>[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now

  • Create New...