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 Posted: Fri Dec 03, 2010 3:17 pm
An assassin. A lover. A father. This man had what everyone wanted. But when a mission put his family at risk, he made the mistake of his life. Now After leaving the agencies of the C.I.A. John Castiano must re-learn the ways of life. And learn that love is never died. Trust is always there. And learning to let go is the first step to recovery. Its been 2 years since his family was murdered in front of him. Now living in Paris in France. he meets a young woman who will show him that no matter how dirty the past you have, there is always light in the darkest places.
Please PM me if you are interested!
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Posted: Mon Dec 06, 2010 6:27 pm
Username: REBEL INDIAN 1991 Name: John Castiano Age: 26 Height: 5'10" Race: Native American (Navajo) Bio: Was in the Navy Seals at the age of 18. Served for 3 years before being recongized for his actions in C.I.A. mision files. Was brought on board to work directly for the C.I.A. as a Special Black Ops Operater. Met the love of his life in 2006. Married in June 22, 2007. Served for 3 more years. Retired in 2010. Lose his family when evidance of his last mission was found out by the russian spenznas commander of the 4th Platoon Infintary. Jen Castiano (wife) and his two children (Mark Castiano and Sarah Castiano) were killed in March 7, 2010. Black Ops Operator was trained in stealth, hand to hand combat, weapons handling, and intellegance retrieval. Currently living in Paris, France. Year 2012. Address Unknown. Picture: Character Picture
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Posted: Tue Dec 07, 2010 5:26 pm
Username: KT-Tonguetied Name: Lenka Myskova Age: 20 Height: 5'3" Race: East-European Bio: Lenka was born and raised in Prague until she turned 17, ended up in an extremely complicated affair with a married man twice her age, wound up pregnant, ripped his family apart, and fled with her baby daughter Klara to Paris at 18. She's been living in the city ever since, doing odd jobs selling flowers and magazines in the streets while her neighbors watched Klara. She lives above a coffee shop with her daughter, doesn't speak more than a few scattered phrases in French, and has been waiting and hoping for something good to come along for three years. She loves tea and music and doing all the other crazy things people her age did; she just doesn't do them as often because she has responsibilities. Picture: Lenka
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Posted: Tue Dec 07, 2010 7:52 pm
*The sounds of the train hitting the connectersof the rail road tracks echoed louder as John sat on the train headed back towards Paris after he went sight seeing in the next town. The man was dressed in black combat pants, a gray shirt and a long over coat. He was sitting on the edge of the seat. His eyes looking around the room at everyone else. He observed every bit of detail that he could remember. The gun sling holding a berreta M9 pistol was hidden by the man's overcoat. His mind was ready as if a bad even was going to happen*
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Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 5:36 pm
A bit unsteady on her feet, Lenka walked up and down the train's corridors with her trolley of sweets, peeking into compartment windows and gesturing lamely to the cart when people looked up. She didn't know quite enough French to get by, and the Parisians tended to look at her sourly when she spoke English. Lenka had never rode on a train like this before. She'd been on a train when she was going from Prague to Paris, but she'd been seated the whole time. Now she had to maneuver herself to keep balanced while the train rocked gently on the tracks.
She turned to knock on the window of the compartment of a young man wearing very strange-looking clothes and her slight frame was knocked into the door when the train rocked a bit too hard. "Excusez moi," she said sheepishly to a big man passing by when she fell. He grumbled something she didn't know under his breath and stalked off. Lenka had a feeling she wouldn't be working here any longer. She didn't like the hours anyway.
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 8:35 am
*John's eyes caught on to a woman knocking on the door in the train cart infront of his. When he saw her body slam in to the door and the man next to her get up and walk off, John's concious began to speak. After a few seconds, John got up letting an elderly woman take his spot. He made his way past the crowded civilians as he made his way toward the train door that lead to the next train cart. As he opened the door, the woman was on the ground. He knelt down to her. One hand on holding on the the seat leg. The other one was helping the woman to her feet. He didn't understand french either but english was worth a shot.* :"Excuse me ma'am. Are you ok? Are you hurt or bleeding anywhere?", he said in to her ear as the sound of other people talking and the sounds of the train wheels hitting the tracks seemed to drain out his voice*
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 10:43 pm
Lenka glanced up at the touch to her arm and smiled tightly at the man speaking to her in English. Fluent English, without an accent or anything, so she figured him to be a tourist. At least he wouldn't mind her speaking to him in the only other language she knew well. "No, no, I'm okay," she insisted, her Czech accent coming in thick in her disorientation. "I just - ah!" she tried to get to her feet but the rocking of her train still had her unbalanced, so it was a great relief when the man helped her, his voice barely audible over the sound of the train. "T'ank you. Here, have some Jelly Babies, on me. I quit today anyhow," she smiled, pushing a white wax-paper bag of the gummy candies into his hand.
((so sorry It's been taking me so long to reply! I've been swamped, but hopefully we can really get into it over the weekend when I'm snowed into my house!))
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 7:05 am
((Lucky!!! I want snow too!!! *Cries and howls to the desert gods as a black wolf cub*))
*John smiled as she put the candy in his hand* "I would quit too if i had to deal with all this noise and crowd!", he said in to her ear hoping it would lighten the mood. As the train began to come to its stop, the rocking became less unbareable. John held on the the the rail with one hand and held the woman's hand with the other. Her touch reminded him of his wife's touch. How it seemed to have magic in it. He remembered his wife once to be called the Healer by his kids. As the train came to a stop, John snapped out of his flashbacks. He didn't want to remember the reasons on why he left*
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 4:59 pm
Lenka allowed the man to hold her arm as the train came to a slow and stopped, partially because she was worried about staying upright and mostly because he looked so sad and lonely. "I, uh... I 'ave to put my cart away now..." she said as it jerked to a stop. "T'ank you for your help." Safely planted on the ground again, Lenka stowed her sweets cart at the front of the train, told her boss she was through, accepted the verbal lashing, and went on her way, mind lingering on the strange, lonely man as she walked to the sitter's to pick up Klara. The little girl was really getting into mischief lately, and the sitter was getting cross earlier and earlier.
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Posted: Tue Dec 14, 2010 7:31 am
*John smiled as he watched the woman stand up for herself. No one should have to go through that much trouble. But for him. It was different. He was a soldier of war. And his job required him to get in to dangerous trouble. As he got off the train and watched the woman walk off, he smiled a bit. He began his walk to his apartment which was a few blocks away but he didn't mind the walk. He enjoyed watching the people do their normal things. There were alot of cafes so the streets were a little bit crowded. It helped him blend in and eliminate spotters that may be following him. He had several agents assigned to "fetch" him as the agency calls it. He retired not ran away. But the agency would do anything to get their best agent back in the field. But what they didn't know was their agent....never wanted to rejoin the force ever again after losing his family.*
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Posted: Tue Dec 14, 2010 11:53 am
Lenka whistled a cheerful tune as she left the sitter's with Klara gabbing happily on her hip. They would have to scrounge together some spare change and go to the grocer's, but that could wait until after she crawled out of her sticky work clothes. "Jste se bavit s madame?" she asked, and Klara squealed her glee.
"Oui, mami! Oui oui oui!" Klara cried loudly, swinging her arms wildly about as Lenka trudged wearily toward home. Darkness was already falling over the sleepy streets, shops closing their windows with the exception of the cafe above which she and Klara lived. Nevertheless she took the stairs in the back of the shop and went up to their tiny flat.
She changed quickly into a loose-fitting sweater and a pair of well-worn jeans, much more comfortable than her nice stiff working clothes, before digging in the change jar and sofa, scooping Klara again into her arms, and walking wih her to the grocer's.
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Posted: Tue Dec 14, 2010 3:43 pm
It was about 7'30 when darkness began to fall. John had just finished his 4th cup of coffee at one of the cafes near his apartment. He stopped there to relax and forget about the past and wach the enviroment and mood of the people. He had been there for a few hours reading the french newspaper or atleast tried to attempt to. His french speaking wasn't good but reading the langauge was somewhat difficult but John managed. As the civilians made their way home or to bars, John remained sitting there enjoying the fresh air.*
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Posted: Tue Dec 14, 2010 8:15 pm
Eight seconds.
Eight seconds Lenka had had to put Klara down for so she could pull the change for the groceries out of her pocket, and in those eight seconds Klara had ducked around her mother's legs and bolted, shrieking with glee all the while. "Klara!" she shouted in alarm, dropping the food and her money with a clang as she ran after the child and was barricaded by the many people crowding the street that night. "Klara stop!"
But it was no use. Lenka stopped, gasping for air and spinning searchingly in circles as the sea of Parisians churned and frothed around her rapidly-rising panic. A few times she reached out for children that were not hers, getting herself shouted at by furious mothers. "Mon bebe! Mon bebe Mon bébé s'est enfui!" she cried to all who could hear her, and they all paid her little to no attention.
Her head was swung around by the tinkling of a bell above a cafe door, and surely enough Lenka saw a stooped old man looking bemusedly down at Klara as she toddled right in under his arm. "Klara! Oh, Klara!" she cried, stooping down after her little girl and seizing her, giggling, up into her arms. A middle-aged woman was eying her critically. "Elle s'est enfuie," she explained timidly. Still hugging Klara possessively against her, Lenka sat down at a booth to gather herself again, breathing fast as her worry faded.
((translated:
my baby! My baby ran away!
And
She ran away...))
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Posted: Thu Dec 16, 2010 2:38 pm
((I figured it said that))
* After finishing reading an article in the frnech newspaper, John looked up as other shop owners began to close up. He smiled at the waiter who sat patiantly smoking a cigarette waiting for her last customer to leave. After a few minutes, John got up and set the newspaper down. He motioned to the waiter for one last cup of coffee. She smiled as she got up and disappeared into the dark room then reappeared with the pot of coffee. It was still warm. Good enough for the walk home. As the waiter poured John a cup, John put down a big tip for her. Then grabbed his cup and raised it to him in thanks for her service and patients*
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Posted: Thu Dec 16, 2010 7:20 pm
((oh, I was kinda trying to set them up in the same cafe, lol. But I can work with this too))
Once she had suitably calmed down, Lenka realized that the waitress of the cafe had been glaring at her for not purchasing anything while sitting at one of her tables. Quickly, Lenka gathered herself and Klara and left into the chilly night to go home. The crowds were thinner now, and Lenka was sure to keep a firm grip on her daughter this time as she briskly walked to the apartment. She tucked Klara firmly into her cot and shut out the lights, determined not to read her a bedtime story as punishment for running off. But after only ten minutes of listening to the little girl's whimpering she took pity and went back in with a book of Czech folk tales.
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