RAINBOW CAKE
The Scene, As It Were...
The 1920’s. The Roaring Twenties. The Prohibition Era. Different names for a different time, when new ideas were being slung around as fast as contraband alcohol in farmlands and cities alike. Rich and poor alike searched for a drink at the numerous bars hidden from the public eye. These places were called by different names; blind pigs, blind tigers, hooch parlors, gin joints, or speakeasies. Each place was unique, hidden behind respectable store fronts, newspaper offices, gentleman’s clubs, or other various enterprises. Often these places were guarded by gangs, using the profits of the speakeasy for their own clandestine activities. One of these gangs was notable for its nontraditional methods, even with the diverse gangs that ruled the underworld.
Sexuality was being studied with great interest by the scientific community, and gender expression, while not in the public eye, was encouraged to be explored. One of these people who did such was Henry Baccarati, also known as ‘Ms. Henrietta DuBois’ when properly attired. Her father, Lorenzo Baccarati, was a ruthless boss within the ranks of the Mafia. He had accepted his daughter’s choices with full blessings, letting Henrietta form a gang of her own. After years of searching and paying off a few ‘friends’, she had found a group of people with similar interests, forming a small gang, naming them ‘The All-Sorts’, made up of like-minded friends of Henrietta, who became dedicated to giving the citizens of the night booze and fun times, for a decent price. Henrietta, retiring to Florida along with her beau, left the All-Sorts with her blessing to continue what she had begun.
Eventually, The All-Sorts had a base of operations; a small bakery of popular reputation, located near the waterfront. The name of the bakery was ‘Rainbow Cake’, named after a signature confection; a multi-layered cake, each layer a different color. Customers could have a ‘slice of the rainbow’ for a few dollars' worth. But ask for a slice of the cake 'with whipped cream on top', and you were escorted to a back room, then a long stairway, and into the rowdiest and swinging place in the city...
But like all things that are considered good in life, there are dangers; rival gangs and their bosses who'd want the turf for themselves, stool pigeons who'd rat you out for a dime's worth of gin, cops that'd love to get you into a jail cell for just one night... but in the thrill of the chase, the fights in the dark alleys, the sweet taste of alcohol that won't blind you to the beauty of your company that night, the warmth in your lover's arms as you kiss... it's something that you'd savor, just like a piece of cake for dessert...
Profile
[u][b]Profile[/b][/u]
[b]Photo:[/b]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Alliance:[/b]
[b]Job:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Preferences:[/b]
[b]Backstory:[/b]Now, I know how some people prefer to have real life pictures of people, and I can and will accept pictures. However, I will also allow pictures that are anime/comic style (IF AND ONLY IF they are 1920's/1940's gangster related). There is also a website called HeroMachine that can produce an animated picture of a character with some fine customization, like it was a comic book character. For example;
Photo:(From someone who can't draw that well, I like using this site!
http://www.heromachine.com/heromachine-3-lab/)
Name: Morgan Hoyt (nickname to follow later)
Age: 23
Alliance: Member of the All-Sorts
Job: Delivery boy for the bakery, driver and occasional thief for the All-Sorts
Gender: Female
Preferences: She is sweet on the ladies, and finds a strong woman... interesting in a good way.
Backstory: Beginning life in an orphanage with some sour-faced nuns that she despised and a name that she hated, the child that would grow up to be Morgan Hoyt left at the age of seven years old. Being chased off by the older boy's gangs and dodging constables that were trying to take hoodlums off the streets of Anchor Town, she found herself backstage at a theatre, entranced by all the costumes, the glittering lights and the women that were singing, dancing, and otherwise performing. One of them noticed the little girl and asked where her mother was; the girl gave a shake of her head, looking up at the woman with big, pleading green eyes.
A copper, huffing and puffing from exertion, ran in about fifteen minutes later. "Hey, you, dame! I've been chasing a little kid through here, red haired little thing, escaped from a refuge or something-" He pointed at a small child at the woman's leg. "About that size, too!" He was about to reach out and pull off the child's cap, when the woman's voice stopped the officer. "Sir, I demand that you leave my nephew alone!"
The child lifted 'his' head, showing short red hair and green eyes beneath a newsie cap, clad in a small shirt, wool pants and suspenders. The officer hastily apologized, turning quickly to leave. The child looked up at the woman, grinning happily.
That was the first meeting between Ms. Henrietta DuBois and the kid, named Morgan Hoyt after the orphanage that connected two streets at a corner.
For all the years that followed, Henrietta would be a mentor and surrogate parent for young Morgan, and the kid would be willing to do nearly anything to please her 'mama', as she was affectionately known. The knowledge that Ms. DuBois was part of an underground gang didn't drive Morgan away, but encouraged the kid to try and 'help'. A few misfires, and Morgan found a job as a delivery boy for the bakery at the age of thirteen.
Ten years, several boxing and shooting lessons later, a more confident Morgan Hoyt reappeared, ready to get moonshine and giggle water for thirsty patrons at the 'Rainbow Cake' bar, and flirt with some of the Janes while doing it.
The Idea
I know that not everyone will want to play a member of the gang, or would want to play the opposition. If you have an idea for a rival gang, please post the name and your suggestion. If you want to play as a cop, that's alright too! (Just don't expect many invites downstairs to the bakery's cellar). We don't want someone trying to derail things by flashing a badge and attempting to arrest everyone... that's an easy way to get cement shoes, you get me?
So, without further ado...
"I have to go see a man about a dog."
Translation: "I've got to leave now," often meaning to go buy whiskey.
