Camilo Guzman

Much Needed Counselling A few months ago, I knelt on grass surrounded by powerful men and women of the city. My knees ached but I pledged my loyalty and wore the face of an organization that stood for the common man. Pride filled me and I thought I had found my permanent home in the city. We were draped in black. Sprayed our cars black. The only color I wore. The only shade I knew. The days came and went. So did our friends and foes. We were held together by our kinship. Glued by our code and ideology. Bound by duty. Not all days were perfect. The police have gotten to know us very well. You'd think they would be grateful for what we did for our communities. They walk on boardwalks worrying about parking tickets while we took to the streets and dealt out justice. Unadulterated, firm, swift justice. Our strength dragged the city where it needed to go, even if it was against their will. Soon even the council appreciated our work. We never were on the best of terms but maybe this time it'll be different. We welcomed them to our home. Pretty sure we got really shit faced but I don't remember to be honest. "A new era in the city is coming!" I naively thought. Hope soared. Wrong. Wrooooooooooooong. What felt like a day later we were being hunted and killed by the council. I was no luckier myself as I was pursued by the council on one occasion. Speeding through the city in my Hellfire with no allies available to help, my only hope was to lose them or lose my life. To dwindle their numbers, I sped into the nearby tunnels. My car bounced off walls, I bounced around my car, but determined to escape I hit the gas as hard as I could. The engines echoed through the tunnels and my escape was imminent. "Oh shit I'm actually gonna escape these pendejos!" I said laughing imagining the story I'll tell the other Dojin-Kai. How a snarky little Colombian with a pony tail out ran and out smarted the council. Wrong. Wrooooooooooooong. Soon I had a gun pointed at the back of my head and my pony tail made fun of. I joked, smiled, but underneath it all I was terrified. Not an easy thing to admit. I counted the breathes that I took wondering how many more I had left. "Why you rolling with Dojin?!" the man in blue questioned. "I like the colors?" the only thing I could reply with. Puzzled he pressed the muzzle to the back of my head "Why aren't you in colors?!" Green was the new fashion trend Dojin-Kai decided to adopt since the conflict with council started up again. Me being as stubborn as I am refused to wear green. The dojin's black signified the void, the emptiness we face when we leave life behind. I was prepared to die in black. "Colors?!" I barked back, my fear replaced with annoyance "Dojin has always been in black, and I'm going to stay in black! I'm not wearing that green shit." The fear returned and I was prepared to count my last breath. "I can respect that." An Azteca said before another man in pink dreads responded. "I don't respect that. This man is Dojin-Kai. He's pathetic." A silence fell on the tunnels. My knees ached like they did just a few months ago. "Leave them." A masked azteca woman calmly said to me as she entered my car. I looked to the ground, defeated and unsure. I knelt there waiting for the ground to split open and swallow us all. Just then, their radios went off with someone calling for back up somewhere else. "We'll be right there." the man in pink dreads said into his radio. "Leave him he's useless." One by one, each mounted up in their vehicles and drove off. I saw my hellfire taken through tunnels as they all left me on my knees. The man in blue was last to leave. He approached me with his motorcycle and said "This is what you get for being a part of Dojin. The next time we see you with them, we'll kill you" He revved his engine and drove off following the others. I grimaced getting back on my feet, staring off unsure how long it would take me to get back to the surface. Unsure how long it will be until I see the light again. Will I? I just know that I'm getting rid of this stupid pony tail and putting some ice on my knees.

Very good post Ezekial

Love me some muscle cars. Good luck.

Wow I'm already a fan. Great work and I look forward to see what you guys bring to the city.

The Truth About Family I've spent some time with the Dojin-Kai. They've taken me under their pitch black wings and have showed me what I have been missing all long. Missing may not be the word. Reclaimed? Yes I think that's more fitting. The Dojin-Kai have helped me reclaim something I thought I've lost many years ago. Their methods are secretive. Things never appear what they seem and like a delicious cake they have many layers. On one hand you have disciplined soldiers. Many members are veterans of other gangs. And I'm not talking about the kind of gangs where four guys run up on another guy to steal his burger. I'm talking about gangs that have been tested against the city's toughest. They've seen their share of war and wear their scars with pride. However in those same ranks you have diplomats. Members who are able to negotiate their way through a conflict. I've been in situations where just when I think the shit is gonna hit the fan, a level headed member will calmly approach the hostile environment and deflect said shit so far away from the fan you'd think he worked for the president. The Dojin-Kai are made up of members who hold gifts in one hand, and a .50 in the other. Could be why they have been able to stick around in a hostile city for this long. Then there are the parties. Oh papi the parties! Strip clubs, weddings, bar mitzvahs you name it. Almost on a daily basis do I find myself in some hole throwing up into a speaker. My parents never liked me going to parties all that much. I don't blame them though. The parties I went to back in high school were no place for a kid. However I always got the feeling their intentions for raising me right were only because they felt they had some sense of duty. A duty to the rest of the world and not necessarily to me. They wanted to make sure there wasn't another violent Hispanic making society worse. They weren't exactly loving, but not cruel either. Just sort of self righteous and borderline snobby. One afternoon, my mentor Dara requested I meet him at the dojo for a chit chat. Dara from my experience is a man of few words so any shared meant it was important. When I arrived, I placed my shoes on the shelf as I'm now accustomed to and bowed to Dara. Dara invited me to sit and wait for him to return. When he did, he had with him a tray with two glasses placed on top. "Let's have some sake." he said. I never had it. I've been dying for a bottle of aguardiente to be honest but who am I to pick and choose? I smirked and with confidence I took a glass and shot it down. I felt the burn going straight down to the belly. "Wow that has a kick" I thought while I settled back and got more comfortable. "Tell me about your past." he said. I turned to him puzzled. With the burning sensation still lumped in my stomach I replied "I'm from Colombia. A country with beautiful women, crazy parties, and no money." Slowly I felt the burning travel upwards, I briefly paused and continued. "I'm from Medellin, a beautiful city. However I spent a lot of time with relatives in the mountains. The mountains are actually just as large and as beautiful as any of the buildings in Medellin." I closed my eyes for a second. When I opened them again, I saw the same mountains I was just describing. They were just as real as Dara was moments ago. I looked and saw a man who reminded me of my uncle tending to his farm as he used to. I was fond of my uncle. He was a simple man with little luxury but content with his field and plow. After his wife died, me and the pigs were all he had and he was all I had. His son got tired of the simple life and moved to Medellin. My parents thought it would do me good to live with him a few years. Almost like a terrible episode of trading spaces. As I fondly remembered him I saw that the farmer had a boy with him. The boy was wearing dirty overalls and smiling from ear to ear. The boy followed the farmer observing and learning. "I could have sworn I had overalls just like those when I was his age" I thought. As I looked on piecing everything together, a four wheel truck approached the farm. Four militaristic looking men jumped out and approached the farmer. "I already told you my farm is not for you to use!" the farmer shouted to them. As I heard his voice echo through, I felt a lump in my throat and a throb in my chest. It was my uncle, and an anxious breath escaped my lips. What appeared to be the leader of the group calmly walked over to my uncle lighting a cigarette. "We are FARC senor. We're not asking anymore." I began to rub my eyes frantically trying to snap my self out of whatever was going on. Right as I opened my eyes, the boy was standing there in front of me. His face covered with what I know as the Dojin-Kai's trial mask. A blackened tear rolled off the mask's cheek and just then the floor dissipates from underneath my feet. I fell into an abyss as he stood over me watching my fall with sorrowful eyes. "Welcome to the family" the last thing I heard before I fell off the sofa and crashed onto the dojo floor. I sat up looking around the room with no Dara in sight. Just two empty glasses sitting on a tray. I laid back down staring at the ceiling. The truth about family is that the lie is more enticing. We like to think blood will hold people together forever but it just doesn't work that way. Sometimes you need to reach out and claim them. As I continued to lay on the floor I pondered "Is all sake that strong?"

Farm Hands and Poker Hands Where do I start? Intros are always nice I guess. My name is Camilo Guzman. I moved here from Fort Staunton in Liberty City but originally I'm from Medellin Colombia. I lived in Colombia until I was fourteen and came state side with the family. They did their best with me, an angry kid who wanted to show off for his friends. Smoked pot to look cool, got into fights to look cool, and got over sized clothing to look cool. In my twenties though I decided to relax a bit and fall back before I got into trouble I couldn't get out of. I kept the friends though, thinking I can have my cake and eat it too. You see my friends kept going further down the rabbit hole. They wanted more pot, more fights, and more over sized clothes. Of course later on it became them wanting more coke, more shoot outs, and more expensive clothing. They ended up getting recruited by the Colombian cartel of Fort Staunton. You know that gang with the freaky snake and bull horns for no reason? Anyway my friends tried to persuade me to join them, but I like wearing gold chains around my neck. Not Colombian neck ties with suits if you know what I mean. Didn't matter though. My association with those locos got the attention of some bad chinos. Oh by the way before I offend anyone, any person that looks east Asian is called Chinese in Spanish where I'm from. Don't matter if you're Chinese, Japanese, Mongolian, or you have the sun in your eyes, you're a chino. Now with my social ignorance out the way, these guys called themselves "Yakuza". They didn't like my friends so they didn't like me. At least it was simple. They harassed and waived a gun to my face a few times and after a while of that I decided to move to Los Santos. I started working on a farm here. Some of my family back in Colombia owned a few so I had a bit of a knack for it. The funny thing is people back home think of America as a land with roads paved with gold. Money is supposed to just wind up in your pockets without much effort. What bullshit. Most roads here are made of dirt and that same dirt fills my pockets every time I work the fields. I try not to complain. I was able to afford a small room near the farm and I had food to eat when the highwaymen didn't rob me for it. For all the comparisons there are to make between the US and a near 3rd world county, thieves are the biggest for me. See in Colombia most people rob and kill because they have so little. Here it seems they do it because they want more. The stress was getting to me. I stayed in my room from fear of robbers. Police were not much help. Some are not much different from the criminals to be honest. The badge or what they call "The Shield" is used more to defend their egos rather than the people. Yet here I am, a regular hardworking smart ass caught right in the middle. Dealt a couple of shit hands with no jackpot in sight. Now here comes the flop. I occasionally hang around the tequila-la-la club to try and make some quick cash before it gets taken from me. On this particular hand I was dealt a man covered in black with a peculiar mask. After some friendly talk at the table I come to find he was Dojin- Kai, a Yakuza clan. My heart skipped a beat. Trouble seemed to continue to follow me and I wondered how this would end. I hoped that this clan had no relation to the Yakuza from Liberty City. After a few games he invited me to meet his friends. "This is it." I thought. He's gonna take me somewhere quiet and finish what was started back in Liberty City. My hands shaking, ready to fold, I followed him. We went to a secluded parking lot. Out came another pair of cards. Dressed in black and wearing the same mask. I felt uneasy but we all chatted for a bit. Suddenly, one reaches into his pocket. My world went into slow motion, "What a stupidly convoluted plan just to kill someone." I thought. To my surprise, what I thought would end up being my end turned out to be my new beginning. The river card I did not see coming. "Give me your phone number" he said as he pulled out his phone. I stumbled to grab my phone still in shock and gave it to him. He spoke to me more about the Dojin- Kai. How they truly stand for the pissed off working man such as myself. Not held down by useless laws but instead bounded to a code that is followed strictly for the benefit of the common man. These were not the same Yakuza from Liberty City after all. A while later, they invited me to be a trial member and to meet the rest of the members the following day. I accepted and armed with a terrible pink shirt, I attended their meeting further being intrigued by their clan. Here I am today. Proud trial member of the Dojin-Kai. From wheat and tractors to pistols and Dominators. The stakes have been raised and I plan on going all in. For better or worse, Jackpot.

Oh I see. Well that's a bummer but thank you for the response.

Date and time (provide timezone): 05/11/2020 7:00 US eastern Character name: Camilo Guzman Issue/bug you are reporting: Volume of house capacity went from 500 to just 50 Expected behavior: Capacity was originally at 500 when I bought it. Evidence, notes worth mentioning, steps to replicate: I was removing some furniture around and decided to move the box that had a capacity of 500 somewhere else. This is my first home so I'm not aware if I'm able to do that or not. When I try to access the box again the storage volume is only 50.

Probably around 1867 to answer your first question lol. No I could understand how frustrating that is especially when I just started farming myself. However you assumed they bought those things. Who is to say they didn't just rob the masks or found those guns somewhere on the ground (I have). That being said the drop off should be NCZ since I would assume there are cameras around etc, but if you're in a field, by yourself, and criminals are desperate enough, I don't see a problem with that. Yes I do plan on lurking on there for a while. I don't want to be unfair or burden anyone, so I haven't robed or got violent with anyone. However my thing is I think reporting should really be a last resort kind of thing. I would find it annoying to stop playing and leave my immersive experience to either accuse someone on the forum of unfair play, or having to defend myself against them. I know there is a rule against reporting people willy nilly, but I don't think it's really enough. I think if the situation is grey, take the loss and move on just to avoid all that OOC stuff. I know I come off as like a frustrated criminal or whatever but I'm really not, I just think we as a community can do better with handling frustrating situations in game.

So first off I'm very new around here and new to RP in general. I've been playing for about a week and to since I want to take this RP seriously for the benefit of everyone, I've been lurking in the archives of player reports to better acquaint myself with the rules. Originally when I looked over the rules I thought in my head it was pretty clear cut, but after seeing some cases I can see there is a lot of situations where it's very grey. Some decisions I flat out disagreed with but other reports upset me it was even reported at all because of the IC situation. A few examples include: 1. Jabbering off to a rival gang, antagonizing them, and reporting them when they retaliate with gun fire and ramming because they didn't follow the proper robbery rules. 2. An officer giving chase to to criminals who are shooting from a vehicle, and the officer is expected to fall back without pursuing any further. 3. High end cars not being able to ram other vehicles simply because they are in an expensive vehicle. If I was in danger of my life or I was in a really bad feud with a rival IC wise, it doesn't matter what I'm driving I'm gonna try to ram you off the road. 4. Getting in trouble for fear RP when someone has a gun pointed at them but they are close enough to a vehicle to get away. 5. Farmer gets robbed in an empty field by a few people, robbers make a clean getaway with no witnesses yet are still considered breaking the rules because the farmer didn't have anything valuable enough on their person and there was a CHANCE that someone would come even though no one ever did. I do not want the city to dissolve into chaos at all. I actually have really been enjoying the ups and downs so far. However in most of these cases, I don't see why some can't just simply take the loss and move on without having to report an inconvenience done to them. Being ran over randomly is infuriating or getting gun downed while unprovoked is terrible, those I feel are the things that should be reported asap. Excuse me if i come across as ignorant or condoning random in game killing and murder. I assure you I don't and have never even tried robbing another player. I've been robbed myself without much stuff on me, arrested realistically because I was speeding and never had a problem with any of it. Also if you recognize any of the cases above and were involved, I'm not calling you guys out or anything like that. They are just simply my opinion on them and wanted to discuss them.

Hello city. You can call me Camilo, Cam, Guzman, Paisa, Parcero, whatever you want just not idiota. I moved here from Fort Staunton in Liberty City but originally I'm from Medellin Colombia. I lived in Colombia until I was fourteen and came state side with the family. They did their best with me, an angry kid who wanted to show off for his friends. Smoked pot to look cool, got into fights to look cool, and got over sized clothing to look cool. In my twenties though I decided to relax a bit and fall back before I got into trouble I couldn't get out of. I kept the friends though, thinking I can have my cake and eat it too. You see my friends kept going further down the rabbit hole. They wanted more pot, more fights, and more over sized clothes. Of course later on it became them wanting more coke, more shoot outs, and more expensive clothing. They ended up getting recruited by the Colombian cartel of Fort Staunton. You know that gang with the freaky snake and bull horns for no reason? Anyway my friends tried to persuade me to join them but I like wearing my neck ties with suits if you know what I mean. Didn't matter though, my association with those locos got the attention of some bad chinos. Oh by the way before I offend anyone, any person that looks east Asian is called Chinese in Spanish where I'm from. Don't matter if you're Chinese, Japanese, Mongolian, or you have the sun in your eyes you're a chino. Now with my social ignorance out the way, these guys called themselves "Yakuza". They didn't like my friends so they didn't like me. At least it was simple. They harassed and waived a gun to my face a few times and after a while of that I decided to come here. Maybe with me coming here I can prove to myself that I can live a straight life. Change the perception of what a typical Colombian is. Be a Juan Valdez instead of a Pablo Escobar. Hell I may even call a Japanese person Japones for once. In the back of my head however, some things are just ingrained in a culture. Chino.