Post by Alexander Hope on Apr 20, 2020 13:48:45 GMT -6
Alexander "Lex" Hope
Name: Alexander Roberic Hope
Nickname(s): Lex, Boss, "Binch"
Race: Human (Earthling)
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Planet: Earth
Nickname(s): Lex, Boss, "Binch"
Race: Human (Earthling)
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Planet: Earth
Appearance: A physically able young man, standing at an approximate 6 feet in height (~1.82 m.) and of average weight. Lex has thin, lengthy fingers, and the rest of his hands and feet follow suit. Blonde hair drapes across his face and beyond his head, particularly in a messy rattail-bun hybrid. Ice blue eyes, one of which lost to an eye-patch, is one of several defining features detailed about the Hope House's acting Father.
The majority of Lex's outerwear is a dark 5 piece suit, paired with an azure necktie. Ascot ties are a rarity, albeit a piece of his ensemble. Characterizing features, wardrobe or otherwise, rarely ever vary from the neck up, nor from the waist down. The Boss's image should be static, imposing, yet not too identifiable. An old pair of work boots are shined to perfection for every potential case. Slacks and a leather belt are commonplace.
Lex's nose is concave and sharp, alongside his eyes appearing just as keen. The jawline is masculine enough to be discernible, and Lex's dental work is modified to be flawless (after years of orthodontal work). The Boss's build doesn't lean near the typically imposing sort. A light, mesomorph bodily frame bears numerous puncture and even penetration wounds, however. Few other markings mar Lex's body, despite the wounds; not even to cover them.
A little-known fact, however, is that Lex has the name of each individual family member of the Hope House tattooed upon his back, each in their own handwriting. Anyone would be hard-pressed to ever see it for themselves outside of the family, though.
History: (Introductory excerpt and recording provided by the Hope House)
"Hey, give me that. It's giving everyone the wrong idea. Take a first-hand source, instead."
"The man known as Alexander Hope, savior and underground overlord of the North City area and all neighboring hovels, was born Modern Age 925. Born by the seed of unknown father and the graceful Mother and previous Right Hand Ani, their progeny was immediately destined for immense greatness. The young Hope's life was littered with true achievements no later than as soon as he could walk; that of which occurred at the tender age of seven months old. As a Youth rank member of the Hope House, Alexander was provided ample protection and lodging without issue.
The to-be Father of the House never did wrong in his early years, nor did he cause a stir in public. By his adolescent years, Alexander was soon commanding over other Soldier rank family members, emitting a rare trait of true leadership. The young Alexander completed many successful missions and tasks assigned by the 12th Father, swiftly rising through the numerous ranks of the Hope House. By the age of 23, Alexander "Lex" Hope was primed and groomed to be the next successor to the rank of Father. To this day, the 13th Father of the Hope House emits and commits to a prime example of a perfect mafia member, just as each Father before him did." - Chamberlain, Hope House Recorder, Modern Age 949
The to-be Father of the House never did wrong in his early years, nor did he cause a stir in public. By his adolescent years, Alexander was soon commanding over other Soldier rank family members, emitting a rare trait of true leadership. The young Alexander completed many successful missions and tasks assigned by the 12th Father, swiftly rising through the numerous ranks of the Hope House. By the age of 23, Alexander "Lex" Hope was primed and groomed to be the next successor to the rank of Father. To this day, the 13th Father of the Hope House emits and commits to a prime example of a perfect mafia member, just as each Father before him did." - Chamberlain, Hope House Recorder, Modern Age 949
"I was born to a nobody and a mother anyone could ask for. It hardly matters who they were, though. I'm the star of this show, trust me. Sure, I could walk a bit early, albeit it seems that SOMEONE was making a bit of deal about it. Who cares!? Everyone with legs walks! CHAMBERLAIN!! DID YOU WRITE THAT DOWN?! THAT'S S̴U̶C̴H̵'̷A̵ ̶W̴A̶S̴T̴E̸ ̴O̵F̷ ̶-̵-̶ " *rustling* -- [REDACTED]
"Ahem... so my infantile years weren't important. Not much of it would be, either. Anyway, lessee... the earliest memory I have -- a conscious one, mind you -- is of Mother snapping a towel over my head. Someone must've been getting touchy with "the new House baby". Sorta sets a precedent for my upbringing, don't it? Snappy, overprotective "Mother Dearest" that took no shit from anyone... save from my "Dear Old Daddy", whoever the hell that was. Always spoke the best of that walking penis."
"...Getting off-topic aren't I -- right, so my childhood is best described as "soap in a gas station restroom": a clean little brick in a mucked up joint of thugs and whores. 'Course, that's a good bit different now, particularly under my management -- but that's not the point just yet. My childhood was a lot of setting socks on doorknobs and laundering rotten smallclothes. The topic ends there. Mother would be gone great big spans of the day, leaving little Lex to slave away because of his arbitrary rank. Boo hoo, right? Who cares -- ahem, so, ADOLESCENCE! ...Who came up with that? Kami? I'll be sure to get a crack-shot at him on my way down to Hell. That was a pissy, greasy, confusing waste of my time. Didn't start "early", exactly -- thank God -- definitely jump-started any ambition I had to be away from the House, nonetheless. Better than sharpening shanks, switchblades, bowies, and checking out lawn-side murders for the rest of my life."
"While Chamberlain apparently felt the need to get something fully accurate, he decided to overlook the detail of my rank upping itself by the time I was eighteen. That was the course of things even when the House was first organized! Youths are promoted to Soldier once they're old enough to be sent to prison! ...Forget the semantics of that statement. Looking back, however, I do realize that I was extremely commanding over my "immediate fellows". Barking any which order and any which one nearby, jeopardizing mission after mission over experimental solutions, tinkering with disguises, poisons, arguing with the Capo, etcetera -- Mamdril was a saint for handling me... despite the complimentary broken fingers. He always called me "Golden Boy", for whatever reason. I don't see it."
"At around, say, twenty-three, the twelfth Father of the Hope House, Boss Smütch, called me up for a personal meeting. There were some personal questions involved, some verbal prodding, some intimate query -- by then I figured "Shit, he must known I'm gunning for his seat", as I was in my early twenties. Boss Smütch wasn't a reformation kinda guy, and you could tell -- the bastard didn't fuck around with anything before the 10th Boss. Anyway, the cunt called me out on my little "cheeky fyuckin' schemes" -- he had a little bit of a speech impediment -- and, frankly, as fairly inexperienced as I was, I challenged the bitch on the spot for the Father position! Imagine an oddly sculpted tomato, right in this seat -- holy hells -- he was flabbergasted! "The gall! Your impyudent -- gimme my gun!" he said, wrestling himself from the seat. Thankfully, our local Hope House friends weren't keen on patdowns, I had my ever-trusty partner at my shoulder just at the lining of my overcoat!"
"So anyway, I just started blasting. House rules state that any member can challenge the Boss for their position, so long as each side was on even terms with one another. Clearly, I wasn't. You don't beat a shotgun in under five meters. Although... for good measure, I did tear his jaw off."
"...Cruel? Cruel?! Well no shit, wise-guy of course it cruel! This is the mafia, organized crime! Do you think we get our money from asking nicely, like the government?! Get the hell outta here, we actually mean business! Actually, I have a better idea! HEY, CHAMBERLAIN, GET IN HERE!!"
"Document this, and accurately this time." *BANG!* *THUD!* *clink* *clink*
Racials:
Creativity - Due to their quick thinking and resourcefulness, Earthlings are quick to master and innovate. Gain one Mastery Point every 10,000 PL instead of every 15,000.
In a Pinch - Due to their resourcefulness, Humans can activate a transformation if their TM gauge has 90% of the TM gauge minimum rather than 100%. They also may one per thread push their TM gauge to -10% to maintain a transformation longer.
Techniques:
In a Pinch - Due to their resourcefulness, Humans can activate a transformation if their TM gauge has 90% of the TM gauge minimum rather than 100%. They also may one per thread push their TM gauge to -10% to maintain a transformation longer.
Techniques:
[SP] Judgement - Even without a spare eye, Lex is able to see through anyone he'd need to. Rudimentary and supplemented by abilities learned from his family, Lex can sense Ki to an extent.
[KI1] Casual Mode - Typically fired from a firearm, this "technique" appears as a simple blast, bullet-shaped or otherwise. Musters 1 - 33% of Lex's power.
[SP] Rearmament - Another ability formed from members of his family, Lex can magically arm himself with a firearm of his choice, given it's within his ability and imagination to procure it. Ammo, however, is separate from these magicked guns. Only firearms can be created at this time.
Example Solo: November 23rd, Modern Age 948, several days after the honorable discharge of Boss Smütch by the Soldier rank family member Alexander "Lex" Hope. The event, or rather, what boiled down to a murder, was unprecedented. Whilst still a rowdy and inexperienced soldier of the Hope House, Lex provided an ample promotion for himself in cold blood. Rumors among the family spread akin to a house fire, yet there was no rest for the wicked. The Father's meeting room was under lockdown, by Lex himself, for an approximate 14 days. Hope House was in disarray, as there was no Father to guide them, not yet. At 4 AM on the 15th day, Alexander appeared from the Boss's room, gauze concealing his right eye, blood stains splattered across his now-ragged attire, and a novel's worth of documents. Clutching to the paper as if it were his own life, Lex collapsed within the Hope House main hideout common room. The youth was discovered two hours later by one of the Capos, Addic, and had the papers in his palm swiftly swiped from him.
The entirety of the Regole Famiglia, penned by the 1st Father himself, was rewritten, revised, and reformed (via separately sorted documentation), all haphazardly stapled and taped together as if it were formed by a child. Additions to conduct, punishment, acceptance policies, hideout maintenance, family member expectations, and more were disclosed within the Regole Famiglia. Rewrites of the oldest rules in the book included rewording, reiteration, specification, examples, etc. Every Capo and both Underbosses (the Right and Left Hand) pored over the immense addendum, per se, and gathered the recent challenger of the Boss for consultation. Between the yawning and occasional, additional collapse, the 15th day since the passing of Boss Smütch was spent under a pseudo-reform. The Hope House would be one of class, rigidity, yet flexibility.
In previous years, prior to Alexander's ambitious move, there were few recruits, and even fewer children. Drug trafficking, trade deals, and public product peddling were haphazard and poorly managed, only keeping up with the real market's fluctuations. While not optimal, it did at least dissuade suspicion from the government. However, the shadier side of things were poorly done, and often caught. The youth that were within the reins of the Hope House were often ignored, never taken in, or, if they were under protection of the House, were largely ignored. Seen, but were never to be heard. The bosses lived lavishly, as they would, yet those below were living under deteriorating, albeit suitable conditions. The draft of the family's betterment detailed the increase in both profit and expenses. However, the splurging would only be brief, within the bigger picture scenario.
Spend money to make money. Wasn't that always the cheekiest phrase? The Modern Age 949, nearly a full year later, marked the official rise of Alexander Hope to the seat of the Father. Months of pleading, reassuring, and undignified promises led the young boss to that point. Guaranteeing positive results is always a gamble, especially when monetary funds are involved. The renovation of multiple Hope House hideaways, via house connections, took months of uncertainty with the hope of improving morale; among the inclusions of improved food quality and greater expense for any child's shared and/or private bedroom. New recruits flooded in via the Youth and Soldier rank, from orphaned infants to downtrodden adults. Increased productivity and enhanced dealings raking in cash, dirty, bloody, or laden with drugs or otherwise.
Fast-forward to Modern Age 950, within the first year of Father Hope's leadership, Lex is still but a reformer. As little of a true leader as he was, a new recruit was one to enhance his toolkit; paving a greater road towards that title: "Leader". One that knew of a mystical power, found in every single one of the Hope House. Bullshit like that was something Alexander figured he could capitalize on; first through himself for experimentation, then for the rest of the family for greater and widespread utilization. Now if only it wasn't halfway through the fiscal year, things would be perfect. If only.
A pen drops. A huff, turned into an exhale. A finger repeatedly, and irritably taps upon yellowed, lined paper. Not exactly super-grandiose writing. For another time. A palm grasped a notebook, flipping it shut, and guiding it into a nearby drawer. The back of that very same hand nudged the drawer aside, albeit somehow leaving it ajar. Back to business.
