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Strega Bloodrose

The Casamajor kidnap case made headlines, even in a city where major crimes were now happening every day. Someone snatched 17 year-old Jocasta Casamajor, heiress to the Sucra-F soft drink fortune on her way home from a friend's party, leaving behind them a bullet-riddled car and the bodies of her driver and two armed bodyguards. Two days later, the Casamajor family received a ransom demand for $5 million, relayed in a message recorded by Jocasta herself on her mp3 micro-player and delivered anonymously to the offices of the San Paro Standard. SPPD Forensics identified the voice, finger-prints and blood sample that came with the device as all belonging to Jocasta. The SPPD and the Praetorians, working separately, started tearing the city apart searching for her, while the Casamajor family also secretly hired the services of the Praetorians' covert Shadow Strike unit to find their daughter's captors.

The ransom was paid, the money tagged using military level surveillance and tracking techniques that the kidnappers probably couldn't even begin to guess about, with the satellite surveillance time alone - negotiated with the Feds - costing over half a million dollars.

Shadow Strike found the targets first, hiding out in a disused abattoir in Red Hill. Grissom and his team went in fast, hard and quiet.....and found that someone else had been there first. Six dead kidnappers. No Jocasta, dead or alive. And no $5 million ransom money, with no trace of where it had gone, and the means by which it had originally been tagged and tracked now completely disabled. Whoever had beaten them to the target had known what they were doing.

Four days later, Jocasta Casamajor was released unharmed, an SPPD prowl car finding her wandering, slightly dazed and confused, along Shianxi at 6am in the morning. She had her schoolbag with her. Inside was $2.5 million dollars of her original ransom sum. She claimed to have no memory of what happened to her, of who took her and who killed her captors, or where she had been or what she had been doing for the previous four days.

Two days later, the mayor's office received a communiquÚ from a group calling itself StrikeBack, which said that it had been responsible for freeing Jocasta Casamajor from her kidnappers and was happy to have secured the safe return of her and the ransom money, half of which it was deducting to further its citizens' justice activities.

Despite police eagerness to investigate further - nothing further has ever been heard from 'StrikeBack', and the organisation has never appeared among San Paro's ever-growing list of officially recognised vigilante groups - the Casamajor family lawyers blocked all further access to Jocasta herself, citing her amnesia as a sign of the psychological stress she had suffered from her ordeal. The family were just glad to have their daughter (and half the ransom money) back and apparently unharmed.

So what really happened back then? Only Jocasta Casamajor knows for sure. Well, her, and the Blood Roses.

It was Byron Bloodrose's intel hooks into Red Rain's cell phone set-up that first picked up hints that the kidnappers were a known professional heister gang with affiliations to Whispa's crew. Jeung's interest was piqued - his family knew the Casamajors, and he had briefly dated Jocasta's older sister back in high school - and the arch-snob in him disliked the idea of the kind of lowlife dregs employed by Red Rain treating people of his and Jocasta's class in this way. Besides, the kidnapper crew were rivals of the Blood Roses, and the idea of cheating Whispa out of his share of the ransom money was just too delicious. Jeung sent the Blood Roses into action, and they hit the gang's hideout and brought back Jocasta and the money before anyone knew they'd been there.

Which only left the problem of what to do with Jocasta. The kid was terrified and traumatised. It was Charlotte's idea to cheer her up by taking her clubbing. Banshee. Beltane. Gaijin. Opening night of some exclusive new club up-top the Needles in Havalynd. Uptown to Montebank to check out the new after-hours joint called the Shooting Gallery that everyone's talking about. Jeung, Charlotte and the inner circle hit them all, with little Jocasta Casamajor accompanying them in clothes and makeup lent to her by Charlotte and the other girls. Jocasta - traumatised, completely dislocated by the experiences of the last few days - loved it all.

In those four days, her new alter-ego Strega Bloodrose was born.

At the end of the four days, they cut her loose again. It was Byron's idea to return half the ransom money with her, to throw the cops and the Praetorians off the scent. $2.5 million was still a good return for a couple of days work, and everyone got a great laugh out of that 'StrikeBack official communiquÚ' bullshit that Charlotte and Jeung came up with.

Still, Jeung was only half-surprised when, a few weeks later, Jocasta Casamajor started turning up at the gang's usual club haunts in her Strega Bloodrose disguise. The ordeal of the kidnap must have messed with the wiring inside her head more than anyone had realised. She had seen something in those four days hanging out with the Blood Roses - a wild glamour so different from her previous safely moneyed existence - and now she wanted more.

That was almost two years ago. Now she's part of the organisation, earning - as the two Prentiss Tigers whose corpses were washed up on the shore of Green Spit can testify - the right to the now ritual scar tattoo. Whether she's a spoiled little rich girl playing at being a badass criminal for a few years before she receives her share of the soft drink family fortune, or whether she's genuinely been converted to the Blood Roses way of life, remains to be seen.

Unlocks Contact

STANDING & REWARDS

Standing required: 0

No Unlocks for this level

Standing required: 750

No Unlocks for this level

Standing required: 750

Unlocks the following items: Category Cost Rating Faction
Turtleneck Minidress Clothing $650 0
Backless Halter Dress Clothing $550 0
Dollar Earring (L) Clothing $850 0
A-Line Skirt Clothing $200 0
Buttoned Blouse Clothing $150 0
Blouse Clothing $250 0
Dollar Earring (L) Clothing $850 0
Dollar Earring (R) Clothing $850 0
Shirt (Buttoned) Clothing $250 0
Shirt Clothing $250 0
Shirt (Popped Collar) Clothing $250 0

Standing required: 750

Unlocks the following items: Category Cost Rating Faction
Macchina Cosenza Vehicles $5,000 0

Standing required: 750

Unlocks the following items: Category Cost Rating Faction
"Dead Famous" In-they-go Sneakers Clothing $70 0
"Dead Famous" T-shirt Clothing $15 0
"Dead Famous" Eliza Bathory Skirt Clothing $25 0
"Angel of Death" Rad Shoes Clothing $55 0
"Angel of Death" T-shirt Clothing $10 0
"Angel of Death" Jean Zasou Combats Clothing $70 0
Mercure's Blood Demon Symbols $0 0
Kitty Lobotomy Symbols $0 0
Mercure's Blood Demon Unlocks $0 0
Kitty Lobotomy Unlocks $0 0

Standing required: 750

Unlocks the following items: Category Cost Rating Faction
Han Veo Vehicles $5,000 0

Standing required: 750

Unlocks the following items: Category Cost Rating Faction
Sequined Halter Dress Clothing $650 0
Pyramid Stud Earring (L) Clothing $80 0
Pyramid Stud Earring (R) Clothing $80 0
Turtleneck Clothing $450 0
Lacy Boyshorts Clothing $1,390 0
Adhesive Bra Clothing $350 0
Lace Bra Clothing $990 0
Strapless Bra Clothing $450 0
Swirl Stocking (L) Clothing $490 0
Swirl Stocking (R) Clothing $490 0
Lace Thong Clothing $650 0
Brogues Clothing $500 0
Chinos Clothing $200 0

Standing required: 750

Unlocks the following items: Category Cost Rating Faction
Charge Sentinel Vehicles $15,000 10

Standing required: 750

Unlocks the following items: Category Cost Rating Faction
Two-tone Ballet Flats Clothing $350 0
Blazer Clothing $990 0
Suit Trousers Clothing $250 0
Tie Clothing $150 0
Tie (Loosened) Clothing $450 0
Suit Jacket Clothing $990 0
Suit Jacket (Casual) Clothing $790 0
Suit Jacket (Buttoned) Clothing $990 0
Suit Trousers Clothing $450 0

Standing required: 1,500

Unlocks the following items: Category Cost Rating Faction
Dolton Montane Vehicles $15,000 10
Level Activity
10

Enforcers think they're all safe, tucked up in their little cars. Could you, um, prove that they're not? Just blow up three enemy vehicles they don't even need to be in them just... make them go away.

Blow up 3 enemy vehicles.

Missions
GANGLAND ANNEXATION
STANDING OUT FROM THE CROWD
THE ARTISTRY OF THE SPRAYCAN
SPARE WHEELS
NO SERVICE? NO STORE!
CASH FOR CLUNKERS
R. O. A. R.
CONFLAGRATE TO ACCUMULATE
THE BIG CONTE
DOUGH FOR THE DOORMAN
IT'S A STEAL!
BLIND JUSTICE
DELIVER THE LIVER
THE PRICE OF FAME
POWDER TRAIL
KLEPTOMANIA
A BLOOD ROSE WITH A BADGE
DO THE GAS CASH MASH
SPRAY TO PLAY
Subject
Biography: San Paro

When the first humans left their prints in the wet, white sands of Nantego Beach, they thought they had found a paradise. At the meeting of two rivers, where the Makoda subsumed itself into the shimmering span of the Nantego in its final rush to mother sea, they abandoned their journey and sank their roots in the land. A settlement quickly established itself, propelled on by an abundance of natural resources. The rich soils of the river basin supported a variety of crops. The warm winds blew across from the gulf, and from the crystal waters the fishermen reaped the treasures to feed a growing population of craftsmen and traders. And all the while the town spread its tendrils further inland, reaching out for the wider world, eager for contact. As centuries passed, the deep river channels were perfect for the ships that sailed in from all points of the compass, bringing silks and spices, pottery, cloth, wine and rare metals. San Paro became a maritime hub, a launch point for explorers, a thriving international port.

Of course, that was then.

Sirens cut through the night. The turbo whine of tuners careering headlong through the neon alleys. Uptown, the air is alive with the pepper-rattle of small-arms. The sky is clear but there are no stars, only a jaundice haze bleeding into black space. The broiling boulevards, the leviathan scrapers; a lattice of electric light stretching in every direction, obliterating heaven.

Sunrise comes, and the banks of smog roll over from Cortland Point, retched from the hundreds of chimneys which form a thorned carapace across the western edge of the tributary. On a still, hot day, the glass and concrete spires of Havalynd disappear into the grey mire; a debased Olympus, built with the blood of men and inhabited by corporate gods.

The Nantego is a great brown slug, squirming uncomfortably between the quay walls and the rotting banks. Its stench rolls over the docks and the coastal districts, permeating everything. Nothing has lived in there for thirty years.

The gunfire has subsided now. The gangs are sleeping. Only the occasional crackle and burst as the cops try to pick up the stragglers. Already, blank-eyed medics sift through the bodies. Soon the citizens will emerge, their broken sleep painted in tiny fracture lines around their eyes. They crawl in gridlock along the arterial roads, tired or scared or empty.

Welcome to San Paro.

Biography: Luke Waskawi (Part 1)

Vincent Waskawi, a Polish immigrant, arrived in San Paro thirty five years ago. He married Martha Waskawi, who worked as a maid for a family in Virginia Gardens. Their only child, Luke Waskawi, would change San Paro forever before his sixteenth birthday.

Vincent Waskawi made an immediate impression on everyone who met him; a strong, capable and warm-hearted man who believed absolutely that San Paro could still be a land of opportunity for all those that came to it with something to offer it. What Vincent Waskawi had to offer were the same ideals he installed from an early age in his son, Luke - a belief in hard work, honesty, decency and a duty to look after your family and those less fortunate than yourself.

Waskawi Senior worked in the Dyler power plant in Cortland Point, just one of the many poor immigrants who toiled there every day, to satisfy the city's ever-growing demands for energy. It was tiring and undeniably menial work, but it was still work, and Vincent Waskawi wasn't afraid of the long hours and backbreaking labour the job required. As he often told his young son, he and his co-workers were providing the energy that kept San Paro running. Power is the lifeblood of the city, providing energy to the city's offices and factories. Power keeps people in work, keeps people safe at night on well-lit streets, keeps the city's subways running, keeps people safe in their homes.

San Paro needed power to stay alive, and someone had to be the source of that power. It was a lesson the young Luke Waskawi would never forget, although almost certainly in a way his father never intended.

Vincent Waskawi's personal and intellectual - he was bright, albeit self-educated - qualities soon got him noticed, and his popularity with his co-workers eventually took him into union management at the plant. If the power plant owners thought that an uneducated immigrant labourer would be easy to manipulate, they were badly mistaken. Vincent Waskawi brought both his characteristic work ethic and a fiery natural intelligence into trying to get a better deal for his co-workers.

The union job provided enough extra money to allow the Waskawi family to move into one of the better blue collar neighbourhoods in Cortland Point. There, he gradually became an unofficial community leader of sorts; friends and neighbours seeking him out to ask him to informally intercede in local disputes. Waskawi's growing reputation for straightforward and honest dealing, both in the neighbourhood and in union business at the power plant, brought him into contact with various local political, religious and business interests in Cortland Point. It also brought him into the orbit of another undeniably important local interest group; the criminal underworld.

Luke Waskawi still remembers the quiet-voiced, dangerous-faced men who stopped to pay their respects to his father on the street, and he remembers the way his father's hand - perhaps unconsciously - protectively tightened its grip on his own as he stood and exchanged pleasantries with known thieves and murderers. Soon, some of these men were coming to the house, wanting to talk to Vincent Waskawi about, they said, matters of mutual interest. The Dyler power plant was a vital part of the local economy, not just in Cortland Point, but in San Paro as a whole. A union-sanctioned strike at the plant meant costly power blackouts throughout the city, something which the city council and most especially San Paro's big business interests were extremely keen to avoid. One or more San Paro's mobster fraternities had longstanding arrangements with Vincent's union organiser predecessor regarding the ability to ferment instant labour problems at the power plant. They now very much wanted to continue those same arrangements with the power plant's new union organiser.

The men who came to Vincent Waskawi's door were not fools. They knew a man like him - that rarest of all things, an apparently sincerely honest man - could not be bribed, and they doubted he could be easily intimidated. Like Waskawi, their lack of formal education did not imply a lack of intelligence, and they had a genius for finding and targeting individual human weakness. Vincent Waskawi's friends and neighbours looked on him as their unofficial protector against forces larger than themselves. Violent gang-related crime was on the rise all over San Paro. The gangsters at Vincent Waskawi's door simply pointed out that it was in their power to place the neighbourhood under their personal protection, guaranteeing that its common street crime problems would disappear almost overnight. Vincent's young son and the children of those same friends and neighbours could safely play out in the streets, and neither would they grow up to become sidewalk soldiers for any of those same gangs.

Vincent Waskawi told his son how to deal with such men; give them the respect they demand, but give them as little else as possible in way of concessions and compromises, and give them nothing at all of yourself, otherwise they would own you forever. Vincent prevaricated while the mobsters waited on his decision, but they were not patient men, and when they encounter an obstacle they cannot move, they simply find another way round it. If Waskawi could not be swayed, then lesser men could, and it wasn't long before other union organisers at the plant were doing what Vincent would not.

Biography: Obeya Corps. Armory

Obeya (Obeya Corps. Armory (OCA))

Obeya is a government-owned munitions manufacturer developing a wide array of products used by armies and law enforcement agencies around the world. The OCA have recently opened a new headquarters in Concession in response to large orders taken from the new San Paro Vigilante groups. As part of its civil diversification program, the OCA teaches Community Policing to San Paro citizens under the auspices of the City Security Act. The OCA also works with corporate bodies, to provide security consultancy and anti-terror training. Along with other intensive courses at the OCA headquarters - some running up to four or five months - the OCA now offers a Master's degree in Community Coercion and Homeland Security, in partnership with the Metropolitan College of San Paro. For those with more extensive funds, OCA specialists can also be subcontracted to provide protection for VIPs and high-ranking individuals.

Item Category
Tag Font Set Font Sheet
Animal Emote Animal Emote
BodyPop Emote BodyPop Emote
Bored Emote Bored Emote
Epinephrine x2 Consumable
Med-Spray x2 Consumable
Boom Box x2 Consumable
Large Supply Box x2 Consumable
Mobile Cover x2 Consumable
Satchel Charge x2 Consumable
Level Subject
2 Sorry I missed you.

Hello

Jocasta told me she'd been talking to you. Sorry I wasn't around. Maybe we can talk next time. My name's Strega. I'm a friend of Jocasta's. I hope we can be friends too.

She likes stories about dead Enforcers. Why don't you bring some of them with you next time you come see us?

-Strega

4 That thing we talked about.

Hi!

Did you do that thing we asked? I can't remember. I guess you must have, or Strega would have mentioned it.

Have you met my friend Strega? She looks after me and warns me about bad things. Something bad happened to me once, but then the Blood Roses helped me, and my friend Strega came to stay with me, and I was okay after that.

She's still not sure if you're really my friend yet, so I'd be careful. She sometimes does bad things to people she doesn't like, but only to protect me.

Jocasta
x

6 Tread carefully, my friend!

I saw Jocasta sent you a message. I'm glad you and her are friends, but you should be careful. Something bad happened to her once. I don't think she's been wholly okay ever since then.

In the head, I mean.

Don't tell her I said that. It would upset her. If you upset her, I'll find out. Then you and me might not be able to be friends anymore, and that wouldn't be good.

For you, anyway.

-Strega

8 Friends?

Hello

Strega's been saying mean things about you, but I don't listen. Sometimes I wish she'd just leave me alone.

I don't need her anymore, now that I've got the Roses. They rescued me after the bad people kidnapped me. It was Jeung's idea.

I like Jeung. He's always nice to me. Strega says that's the only reason people are nice to me, because they want to be friends with Jeung, but I think she's just being mean again when she says that.

After all, you're friends with me, and it's not because of Jeung, is it?

Jocasta
x

10 Jocasta's your guardian angel!

You're really lucky. You don't know it, but you are.

I knew you'd be trouble. I told Jocasta we should do something about you. maybe send you out on some mission that I knew you wouldn't get back from. She wouldn't let me. That's why you're lucky.

I guess we can still be friends, for Jocasta's sake. Just make sure you don't ever upset her, or I'll find out.

And that would be bad. For you.

-Strega