To be fair she's up against mainly left wing/liberal/democratic parties. IRL it's extremely hard to debate with parties of that caliber i'm not surprised she's lost her shit once or three.

I know. I weirdly thought you were from England sooo... And I doubt they'll change it from 21 to 18 anytime soon

lol

Ok thanks. If you've moved on to another character why did you hold the grudge? Damn you really don't like Marie.

Thank you! It means a lot, Surprisingly I work kinda hard on these.

Pretty cheap prices given that real life hits are thousands of dollars.

What was her stunt? Please tell me as I am a supporter of Marie

+1

Thanks.

To be honest It's quit bland. I'd like to see you in the upcoming debate and I'd think it'll help out alot.

I'd like to listen as a supporter of FrancePourLaVie Maybe we can ask questions? (I'm sure you've been over this but frankly I'm not reading the whole posts comments)

[It's a pretty long post and I feel as if this one could've been better, yet it is pretty vital for my next post] Chapter 3. Micky stands in his driveway, looking towards the street. The sight of the murder. Dark red spots still stain the blacktop. It's a very hot day out and Micky wears black baggy jeans, a white T-shirt, his cut and black vietnam combat boots. He begins to walk towards Rogers house, treading off he tries not to stare at the darkened blood in the street. Roger is working on his car, inside of his garage. "Got the date for the funeral?" Micky asks, beginning to light a cigarette. "The fifth" Roger says, still looking at his cars engine. He chokes up "I just wish I could have done something" "Like what?" "Like... like did something to those men" Roger exclaims, turning around yet looking at the ground. Micky slowly walks towards him, leaning against the car to his side. "member' those murders at that strip mall last week?" Micky says, looking down at the ground with Roger and taking a puff of his lucky. "Yea, those gang members killed at that convenience store on Route 8?" "What I'm going to tell you stays here, you got that? Roger looks at Micky, and nods his head "Those were the kids who did that. To your son." "How do you know?" Roger asks while reaching for a cigarette. Thoughts begin to race around in Mickys mind, sweat drips from his brows. He stands up. "Just remember who I run with" Roger looks at Micky, now walking away from his garage. His gun showing from his waistband, the patch on his cut is enough to make Roger know everything. [2 hours later] "The sight of the horrific murder scene between what's said to be rival gang members at this quite convenience store is shocking to the authorities, chief Marston says. Here we have the shop owner himself" Marty stands in the heat looking at the camera. "Don't you do something stupid Marty". "Well Marty can you tell us what you saw that night?" The ridiculous looking reporter asks Marty looks at the camera "I can't say, I was in the back of the shop, grabbing more items to stock the shelves. Once I heard the gunshots I called 911, I didn't want to go out there" Micky raises the remote and turns the TV off. Micky stands up and walks out the back sliding glass doors, connecting to his driveway. Across the street a channel 3 news van is interviewing neighbors. The reporter notices Micky, standing in the driveway next to his bike. Micky just stands there, blatantly waiting for the reporter to rush over. Mickys cut lays on the seat of his bike, the patch showing for the camera. A lanky man in a cheap suit carrying a microphone rushes up to Micky, who stands there, arms crossed and as tall as a mountain. "Did you witness the murder sir? Can you tell us what happened that night?" The reporter asks with the mic stuck in the air "I'll tell ya" Micky says, eyeing down the man "More fucking gang violence the police won't take care of" "Sir we're live please don't swear" "I don't give a fuck. You aren't helping in any way. We'll forget about this shit and just move on" Micky exclaims The man turns around, dumb witted and faces the camera "Well obviously some residents feel very deep about what happened here" Micky puts his cut on and sits on his bike. "Get the fuck off my property" He says, pulling out the kickstarter and jumping down on it. The roar of the shovelhead engine scares the camera crew, who run away down the driveway like little kids. He pulls out the driveway and heads down the road, the scream of the chopper can be heard several blocks away. [About 30 min later] The sun is high in the sky, blue as far as the eye can see. Micky rides slowly on a long, windy driveway, surrounded by trees and thick brush. Coming around the corner is the well kept MC clubhouse. It's a fairly big house, with two large garage doors in the front instead of walls. A large flag with the Men Of Mayhem patch drapes from one of the garage doors, as well as a confederate flag and an SS flag on another. A separate two car garage is off to the left. The house is lined with members bikes. Ranging from custom built choppers to regular Harleys. Micky backs in next to the sergeant at arms bike, hops off and begins walking to the side of the house. The door opens and he's greeted by T, a patched member. They shake hands and T offers Micky a beer "There's plenty inside!" He says, smiling while grabbing his pack of cigarettes. Micky smiles back and walks in, he's greeted by a large crowd of members and some wifes. A prospect comes over and hands Micky a beer and a Lucky Strike, Mickys usual two things most requested. The prospect lights the cig and he twists the beers cap off and drops it on the ground, the Prospect pics it up. Off to the right is the kitchen, separated by a long table with chairs like a diner. To the left is a small stage in front of the main hall. Behind the crowd is a lounge area with leather seats, multiple pool tables and a jukebox connected to speakers around the garage. Think of it as a huge studio apartment. Behind the stage is a painted mural of the clubs patch, spread around the walls are more flags and wooden plaques for poker runs, charity events and various related awards. After the usual ball breaking jokes, pool playing and drinking T; the one who greeted Micky begins to strike up a conversation. "You here about the murders on route 8?" He asks, looking at Micky, who nods his head slowly. "Join me outside, I need a smoke" The two get up from the leather chairs and head out the door. The sun is going out and some members take off on their bikes, Tristan and Micky wave and smile goodbye. Both strike up cigarettes, T offers a friendly light. Micky looks at T while walking out back "That was me" T looks in confusion "Who carried those murders out" T nods "May I ask why?" "They killed my neighbor's son. I knew him since he was eight" Micky looks down, blowing the smoke out of his nostrils. "Back when I first came here, it was roses and white sheets, suburban families with little dogs, American flags and open doors." "I remember" T says, resting his cigarette in his mouth. "And we sit home, watching the TV doing nothing. Looking desperately at the reporters and casters, like they'll somehow fix the whole fucking problem. We walk around with our phones in our pockets and pistols in our waistband." They both lift their cuts up, showing their pistols and laughing. "You know what. I agree. We live in constant fear but nobody has the balls to stand up to it. Families walking down the street, walking down the isle of the grocery store get spat on by low lifes who get to walk back home to their government paycheck." "The mayor says everything's alright, the TV reporters say it's alright... So it must be alright. I wanna do something about it" They both look at eachother "Ulysses. Five o'clock tomorrow. Your serious lets meet and talk." T looks at Micky, providing a serious look. "Good. I'll see you then."

Why Micky kills someone is sometimes not so easy to notice. Read carefully in my next post.

Legal drinking age is 18, right? Of Course you won't be drinkin 16 docta' peppas

4 $ Gnocchi! Madonne!

Name: Micky "Gatekeeper" Tohmpson Appearance: Race: White Personality: Calm yet crazy Education: High School Sex: Male/Straight Misc: Once a highschool wrestler turned bare knuckle boxer, which is how he got his nickname, "Gatekeeper" for his size and stature. Tattoos: A king with its head chopped off (back) meaning he's killed someone of great importance. Bird (arm) as seen in photo. Meaning mystery, secrets etc. "Dead Men Tell No Tales" written across his upper chest. Meaning just that. Background: Born in Massena New York, 1966. Had an interest in motorcycles from his father who built bikes. Current Vice President of Men of Mayhem MC. Former President of Bad Company Rangers NY Chapt. Spent time in prison before moving to Identity island.

[I'm not dead, took a long break. Not sure why I did to be fair] Chapter 2. Night Micky is awoken by the sound of gunshots outside his house. Cracks and pops ring throughout the neighborhood along with strung out automatic gunfire. Micky grabs his pistol from his bed stand. In just underwear and a T shirt he creeps over to his window and pushes the drapes to the side. A grey minivan is creeping along the street doing a drive by right across his house. "Holy shit!" Micky says to himself while watching the muzzle flashes of uzi's and pistols going to work. Within 10 seconds of watching the van flys away down the street. Bullet holes scatter the siding of the house, windows are smashed and a man lay dead in the street. Micky sits on his bed and hurries to put his boots on, once tied he runs out of the house and sprints to the man in the street. He lays silent on his stomach, bullet holes litter his body with a massive pool of blood surrounding him. Lights turn on in surrounding houses, blinds creep open with neighbors eyes locked on the sight of a dead body. The local gossip unwinding before them. The door opens to an older man, Roger. A black working class family man, succumbed to gang violence introduced to by his only son. Micky and Roger exchange eyes, a lonely teardrops from the father who stares at his dead son. A crip, dressed in blue; covered now in red. "I'll call the cops!" Micky walks into their house. Roger is known to have barbeques and both consider themselves family friends. Micky has known their son since he moved to the Island 13 years ago, when the boy was only 8 years old. [2 Months Later] Micky rides down route 8 towards the city. The wind blowing through his unbuttoned cut. He stops at his usual convenience store "Marty's Place". He backs his chopper in and puts the kickstand down. He fixes his cut up, straightening his flannel underneath. A black SUV with tinted windows parks a couple spaces down, two black men hop out, the driver and the passenger. They both wear the color red. Red bandanas, red shirts, red jordans. Micky hops off his bike and walks behind them. One of the men walks into the bathroom, in the back away from the main store. The other walks towards the drink aisle, away from the counter, Micky follows. The man stops and opens the door, Micky turns around behind him to look at the snacks. He reaches into his leather vest pocket, unravels a wire and wraps it around his fists. Micky turns around and wraps the wire around the kids neck, tugging him tighter and tighter, slowly choking him to death they both lock eyes in the doors frozen mirror. Micky slowly lays the kid on the ground, dropping the wire next to the motionless body. Turning around and walking away, he looks at Marty behind the counter. "Pack a Luckies please Marty" Marty turns around to the cigarette cabinet and grabs a pack. "So, doing anything this week?" Marty asks while ringing him up. "Nothing, nothing at all"

Tom Hardy playing Bronson , my profile pic

I don't think this MC is still active.

Enjoyed the read. Looking forward to chapter 2.

Micky is driving in downtown in the late hours, it's pitch black out and nothing but the street lights and late night shops keep him from falling asleep at the wheel, but this isn't the first time Micky's had to stay out late, especially for the club. His tinted windows make it easy for street thugs to prey on his "innocent" vehicle. That exact thing happens while he's thinking about it. A man comes up to the window, Micky rolls the window down halfway with the hand crank, hoping it's his connection he's meeting now. The man knocks on the window but not with is fist, his switchblade knife. "Got the goods brutha?" The man says. Micky knowing this isn't his connection turns to his right acting as if he's playing along only to grab a 9mm stationed between the console and the seat and points it towards the man. "Yea, I got the goods" The man backs off and hurries down an alleyway. Waiting for five minutes a man opens the passenger door and gets in, micky rolls his window up and throws his cigarette out. Mickey starts the car and drives down the street while reaching into his backpack, he grabs and ounce of coke and places it on the man's lap. While parking Mickey pulls out his 9mm and points it at the man's head. "Fucking shi-" Two shots can be heard in the distance. Mickey walks off with the backpack, the ounce and gun and hops into a pickup truck. Harrison is waiting for him.

Compared to others, I actually don't have that much hours. Exactly 280 hours on both games. My dads been driving for 30 years I plan to become a trucker straight out of highschool.

Everyone is welcome

Hope to see more people on the Discord! Everyone is welcome to come and talk about MC's and MC related things. Micky Tohmpson VP Men Of Mayhem

Nah mate Jeremy Clarksons personal mobile