Ask The Mobscast
Our Files:
Deep in Mistral City's underworld sit a group men and women in suits, face covered in the shadows from their fedoras. The room is filled with hazy smoke, a low buzz of noise hanging over the cities most influential people. Even the police have noticed the lull in crime created by the gathering. Eventually one man rises, stubbing out his fat cigar with a pale hand, his voice low and gruff.

'Do we seriously have nothin' better to do than sit here waitin'?' All eyes raise to the symbol of a letter carved into the ceiling, hoping for a sign, anything to relieve the boredom.

Visit our open chat! http://us14.chatzy.com/38353624408947

This is a blog based upon the Mobscast AU

This blog is open to asks, submissions and roleplaying.
Current mods:
Jigsaw,
Sapling,
Midget,
Tabs,
Mahogany,
VOA,
River,
Dusty,
Wamu,
Luna,
Hny,
Yumlee,
Lavender,
Shadowy
Sparky,
Server,
Siren,
Circle
PLEASE BE CONSIDERATE TOWARDS THE MODS AND DO NOT POST ANY HATE OR INAPPROPRIATE ASKS ALL WILL BE DELETED IMMEDIATELY
Have fun guys :)
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Disclaimer
All content and images found in this blog are about the characters of the yogscast. We ourselves are not in anyway, shape or form, the real Yogscast. We don't use their real names for a reason, that is why we use 'Lalna', 'lomadia'. etc., instead of their actual names, even though they may use them in their videos more. We only use their concepts of character.

Our AU
Our AU is set in the 1920's-ish era in a city similar to New York, some of the characters are mobsters while others are police or their own buissness. See Mobscast history tag for more.

My Service

"Roar, roar!" The machines exclaim and we are

Lost, between where we wish to be and where
The gas bled. Choke! Affix your broken masks,
Swarm your leaking mind so you may not, in
Your delicate ways, better left home, soak
With your life’s blood the comrade beside. 
 
When the flutter of butterflies is done, 
And, in your hands, you hold the severed 
Wings upon which it flew, torn by power
And lead, accept your time. Take the road, down
Which you are led. They will command you now, 
And you must work in the camp given you
 
A pale ghost will come from the horizon
And adjust you to a fresh world of sin.
-A poem of the Great War, by Jon Evans

If you’re interested in being a mod for Sips or Honeydew, please send us an ask or email to askthemobscast@gmail.com and we’ll send you a short application to fill out :)

It’d be great if you looked over their bios on the blog and some rp/asks they’ve done so you get the feel of their character. 

You’re allowed to re-write the bio as long as it doesn’t change anything significant that would effect our story line.

Deadline is: August 3rd

A message,
Anonymous whispered: what job do you have, mr. chaos?

[Dave]: It was shocking really how curious people were suddenly about his job. There was only a smile though as he adjusted his hat down a bit. “I deal in a bit of everything. You need information? I can get that for you. Supplies? Consider it done.” The man held out his hands, he looked so open. As if there were no secrets that would be held behind that charming smile. “Anything you could ever need me and my men can get it for you.” 
Bloody Acacia

Panda: Panda fidgeted with his hat as he waited for Martyn to arrive. He stood outside what was once a warehouse for Honeydew Inc. before it had been left to rot for some reason that Panda really didn’t care enough to know. What was important was that this warehouse was a safe place in this city, away from prying eyes. Saplings were spread around the area, making sure no one would get near the place. He heard the sound of a car crunching across gravel and looked up from his spot near the door of the warehouse. The car stopped and the backdoors opened, letting Martyn and a younger kid step into the night air. “Glad you could make it,” He called out to them. “He’s inside, waiting.”

Martyn: Martyn had been pretty damned excited at the news that Panda had delivered him. He’d caught a scarecrow, and alive. When he’d told him where they were to meet, Martyn had readily agreed to it. It was a good location. The car ride over had been relatively smooth with no traffic or distractions to keep them from arriving on time. When the car had slowed to a stop, Martyn was the first to hop out. He grinned when he saw Panda standing there. He moved over to the other, grasping his hand and shaking it firmly. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world! Inside there huh? Hope he’s comfortable.” He paused when he nudged his head over to Toby. “This is Toby. My partner in all this business. Toby, This is Panda. A new associate who’s been very helpful to our cause so far.” The three of them were walking as they talked. Martyn couldn’t wait to get inside and see who Panda had caught, and what they would find out from their new guest.

Toby: “Nice to meet you Mr. Panda.” Toby nodded at the older man, walking beside them into the dusty warehouse. Swiping a few cobwebs out of his way as Martyn and Panda talked. It was safe yes, but extremely dirty, probably untouched for a few years. In the middle of the room was a chair, holding one passed-out Scarecrow. A grin crossed his face for a second before he turned back to the other two. “Thanks for sharing him. Martyn, could I have a word with you over there for a second?” He walked over about five feet before turning to his friend. “Remember, we need information, which means he has to be able to talk. I know you’re angry with them, I am too. But if we’re going to take them down, you have to keep calm, okay?”

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A message,
Anonymous whispered: Hey Xeph still together with Ridge or?

[Xephos]: He sighs and rolls his neck. He pulls up his sleeves and pours himself a drink. “Ridge and I are,” He pauses considering his words. “Confusing.” He decides, as he takes a drink.

A message,
Anonymous whispered: Mr. Chaos, I don't mean to be a bother but I had to know, are you aware of the current state of things in the city? And if so, do you have any plans to use this to your advantage?

[DaveChaos]: The leader of the CV smiled. Shuffling a pack of cards that he had on hand and mulling over the question. “Of course I know.” Tipping up his hat the man began flipping the cards over. “You don’t survive long here if you don’t keep at least one ear to the ground and eyes on the horizon.” Now the second bit of that question was a bit more interesting. He flipped over another card. The ace of diamonds that completed his royal flush. “As for using the situation to my advantage. The current power vacuum that was choking this city has been disturbed and I think it is high time that my boys and I stop playing from the underground and make a name for ourselves.”

A message,
Anonymous whispered: So, I see the rumors were true. Hat Films really has arrived. Tell me, what do you even plan to do? So many industries are already booming with out you after all.

[Smiffy]: We don’t plan on running a huge company to rival others, there is enough competition without us getting involved.


[Trott]: Yes, Hat Corp will work with others, we’re not here to cause trouble. We aim to be on friendly terms with everyone. Can’t be losing potential customers, right?
He smirks at his last comment.


[Ross]: We shall provide whoever with whatever they need. We ask no questions and we expect no trouble. Hat Corp will just provide others with the little things that they need. We’re only honest businessmen.
They share a look.


[Ross]: Now, we must get to work, there’s so much to do, we have a few meetings that need to be organised.

Tossing Cabers

Panda.: So this was the Crooked Caper, where the rumors said illegal stuff was being done. Panda looked at the outside of the building, up at the large letter spelling out the name and at the rest of the place. It didn’t look quite as fancy as the bar he regularly went to but it certainly was bigger. He rubbed his eyepatch and stepped into the bar, examining all the patrons before he spotted the barkeep behind the counter. He looked definitely more like he should be on the other side of the counter, with his rough appearance. Panda stepped to the bar keep and tapped the counter. “Got anything to drink?”

Ravs: Who the fuck was this? Definitely not one of the usual drinkers. The outfit was definitely very gangster-wannabe, but the eyepatch caught his attention. Ravs lifted the glass he had just finished cleaning and put it down in front of the new customer. “Aye, Ah’ve got Whisk’y, Vodk’, Scotch, and the us’al special’ly drinks, Caber Tossers and Squid Scotch.” He moved to the cabinet behind him and started actually making sure he had all of the drink he’d listed off. "Forge’ ‘bout the Vodk’, Ah’m fresh out."

Panda.: “Squid Scotch? Caber Tosses? What are those like?” Yeah, he definitely sounded even rougher. Either way, he needed to sound like a regular customer just to soften this guy up. hen he would start on the questions. Hopefully, it went well.

Ravs: “T’ey’re my special’ly drinks. And, ‘siderin how ye look,” He looked the man up and down for a second. “No ‘ffense meant, T’hey’ll knock ye on yer li’l ass.”

Panda.: Well, he didn’t to be drunk on the job so those were out. “No offense taken, sir. I’ll take a Whisky.” He drummed his fingers on the wood of the counter and looked at all the patrons again.

Ravs: Ravs returned to the customer with a bottle of whiskey, freshly opened, and filled the man’s glass up to the brim. Then he took a long swig from the bottle before sealing it up again. He kept the bottle directly beneath the bar. “An’thin’ else?”

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The New Guns in Town

William Strife, Parvis, DaveChaos and Hat Films are now open for questions!

With a big welcome to their mods Sparky, Server, Siren and Circle!

Minima
"Here’s what I’m telling you right now," the man was announcing. The bottle of whiskey could be heard in his voice, and he wanted the whole Caber to hear him. "Strawfingers is small shit!" 
 
"Bick, what are you talking about?" 
 
"I mean, Strawfinegrs ain’t shit. He’s nothing in the big scheme." Bick leaned in towards his drinking buddy, as though he were going to whisper some great secret. Instead, his voice boomed. "I hear, there’s some fucker way up higher than him. That pale fuck out on the shore." 
 
"Oh shut the fuck up, you’re drunk." His associate answered. That seemed to be the end of the conversation. 
 
They left a few hours later, with a group of men in purple suits in tow. Strawfingers left his spot in the corner and went to the bartender. Ravs was in the middle of wiping down the bar to close up the Caber. 
 
"Ravs." 
 
"Oi? Oh, ‘ts you. Donny? Tommy? Wha’ was it?" 
 
"To you? It’s Johnny. I need the Caber again tonight." Strawfingers reached over the bar and lifted a bottle of scotch up. He uncorked it and took a long sip from it, wiping the liquid from his lips and the slits in his cheeks after he swallowed. 
 
"Again? Loo’ I ain’ too sure ‘bout the way ye be comm’nd’ring me bar, so." 
 
Strawfingers set a couple hundred dollars on the bar table. 
Ravs took it, counted it up, and shoved it in his pocket. “Ye kno’ where da key is. Clean up yer mess, tha’s all I a’ks.” Ravs shrugged his coat on and left. 
As he exited the bar, the men in purple came back, dragging the two drunk patrons with them. Ravs averted his eyes as they came through. 
The men forced them into two seats and stood behind them. Strawfinegrs walked over to them with his fist curled around the scotch bottle. They were quivering and desperately trying to keep still, despite their shot motor-skills. It was the kind of situation Strawfingers lived for. 
He took another long gulp from the bottle, leaving it empty. “Small shit, eh?” He said, just loud enough for them to hear. 
 
"Wha-? AH!" Strawfingers shattered the bottle across the back of Bick’s chair and sent the shattered bottle deep into his skull. He pressed harder and the bottle shattered for the second time. He was left with the slender tube of glass in his hand and he rammed it through Bick’s eye to stop the screaming. 
 
The drinking buddy was panicking, hyperventilating, and the only thing keeping him from running were the rough hands of the other man on his shoulders. 
 
Strawfingers wiped the glass, liquor, and blood off his suit and pointed at the buddy. “What’s your name?” 
 
"G-Gerry." 
 
"Gerry. Gerry, Gerry, Gerry. Who do you work for?" 
"H-Honeydew." 
"Good!" Strawfingers announced. "I know who to mail the skull to." He lifted his scalpel from his breast pocket, quickly slit open his cheeks. Then, he approached Gerry. 
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