Victor Roman
Portrayed By: Jackie Estacado
Status: Active
Age: 21
Calling: Hitman
Pantheon: Dodekatheon
Divine Parent: Hades
Significant Other(s): N/A

The Begining

Victor Roman has been an oddity all his life. From the begining, it was said that the child wouldn't live to see adulthood. And its a wonder he has considering the fact that his father took his own life, supposedly, a year after he was born and his mother was busy chasing the dragon with various addictions. His mother, Patience, ran the gamut from Beer and Vodka to Cocaine and Heroine. She spent the days making money however she could in order to spend the nights chasing the dragon. What little she had left over was given to her son so he could eat, and get some clothes. Life in a ghetto slumhouse wasn't easy either, every day they had to worry about break-ins. And every night they had to worry about shootings in the neighborhood. All in all, growing up for Victor was a constant game of survival with the odds seemingly stacked against him. The only thing noone really knew about him was the divine heritage running through the childs blood.

Growing up he didn't either, but every step along the way he was being watched by his real father in life- Hades. School life for Victor wasn't fun at all, the child paid little to no attention in class and when recess began it was a constant struggle to keep from getting beaten by the larger kids. Of course, Victor wasn't stupid by any means. Ever the cold calculated strategist, he managed to pit mostly everyone against eachother. This was the way life was until he turned thirteen, and met a man by the name of Francis Romanji.

Francis Romanji was the don of the Romanji Family of the Lower East Side. The family who made sure to keep the families in the slums fed and safe, the family who extorted local businesses for protection money. It all began with a simple, "Hey kid… wanna make twenty bucks?" And before he knew it, Victor found himself in the company of the don as often as he could. Running messages, collection small ammounts of what the Don refered to as 'Pocket Change' from laundry mats and other small end shops in his neighborhood. When he turned eighteen and graduated from High School, Victor was given a gun and with that a major promotion. He was now the Don's bodyguard, and spent the better part of his days protecting Francis. Of course, all the money he was making was being driven toward bettering his life: Buying clothes, food, getting a better apartment to live in. His mother appreciated Victors money the most, stealing from her son in order to feed her rampant addiction. And Victor was content, up until his twenty-first birthday.

Coming home from escorting Francis accross the Island, Victor was shocked to find his mother facedown on the floor. When he rolled the woman over, there was foam secreting from her lips and a note attached to her shoulder via syringe that read: Don't miss your next payment asshole, or you'll end up like this bitch. Meet me at the Wharf for eight thirty tommorow night with $4,000 the money she owed me for the drugs she stole, or I'll make sure you chase the dragon for to long too. -Sugar

Outraged, saddened, and generally anxious, there was a moment of silence. Then Victor snapped, turning to the first thing he saw: the table, and flipping it over. Swearing an oath, he dialed Francis' number and told him what happened. "I have a gift for you Victor, my son… meet me at my mannor and I'll give it to you…" Nodding, Victor hun up, took his favored gun- A Colt M1911 MEU -and walked out the door while he stuck it in the back portion of his pants waistband.

Arriving at the Don's mannor, Victor was already seethign with rage. "Let it go…" Was the thing that set him off. "What!?" The child responded, arms flayed out in front of him as he leaned forward. "That bastard killed my mom!" "She got what was coming to her…" Came the Don's reply, holding up his hand. The action seemed to calm Victor as he stood straight up and slicked his jet black hair back, stone cold eyes looking away. "Well? What can I do then?" He asked simply as he looked toward Francis, hand resting on the grip of his pistol as it was at his back. Francis nodded and held out his hand, "Give me your gun…" He asked politely, and Victor drew it out with speed and dexterity, pointing it at the man. The don smiled, as Victor dropped the magazine and cleared the chamber before spinning it in his palm and offering it grip first to the man. "You see… I cannot have you, my son, wielding such an inferior device…" Came his wheezing voice as he placed the gun aside, and then pulled out a metal box from underneath a table nearby. "That is why I bought you these…" Click. The box is lid is opened, and there sitting amidst black foam protectors was a silver pistol.

Not just any kind of pistol however, a Silver Colt M1911 with Sound Supressor. "I have that hand made for you… the grip is ivory, it fires .45 Caseless Armor Peircing bullets, and they've been accurised… go ahead." Reaching into the box, victor placed his hands upon the ivory grip and took it in grasp, lifting it up to feel the weight. "Wow…" He said as he felt a strange sensation flowing through him, looking over the pistol as he spun it by the trigger well, careful to ensure that it wasn't cocked back. "There is also something else you should know… my son." He said, as he handed Victor a Silver ring with a stone so black it seemed to just suck the light into it.

This chosen verbage, as well as the signet ring of the Don, definitely got Victors attention as he stopped doing what he was doing and slipped the pistol in his back pants waistband. "This… Sugar… your mother was dealing with." The Don says as he looks to his Scion, shaking his head. "He is a… powerful man. If he were to say… fall to your hands, we could spark a war." But then he reaches into the box to pull the foam covering off of a selection of four magazines for the pistol. "Use these. I know you won't need them… and Don't make a mess of things, try not to be seen doing it…" "You mean?" "Yes… do him in. Make sure you kill all the witnesses and get whatever he's carrying. That man has done me a great insult by assaulting your mother… and he has not paid what he has owed me in years. Given your service, you are the man for the job… take this pistol and use it to bring him to justice…" The sound of the magazine clicking into place was all that was heard as Victor left the room and headed out into the night time mists.

The nighttime shadows clung to Victor as he strode through the mists, his pistol in hand. Interally, he decided to name it Mortis, which was Latin for Death. Growing up and going to the range often, Victor was an amazing shot with the pistol he had already been using. An accurised version with a sound supressor would be a much better tool in his hand, then the origianly M.E.U. he had bought from a retired Marine when he first became Francis Romanji's bodyguard. Coming up on the spot, Victor grinned as he saw a tall black man wearing a cane and a red durag, a long black trenchcoat trailing by his sides. As well as two armed men who were definitely carrying. This was the man known throughout the Lower East Side as 'Sugar.' Seeing no other choice, and feeling the nescesity, Victor stood out of the shadows and walked into plain sight behind the group. Wearing a simple pair of blue jeans and a black dress shirt, as well as some comofortable sneakers, it was obvious why the men didn't pay him any heed. "Sugar." Victor called out as he stood with his arms behind his back, cracking his neck.

The man turned around with a start, a good sign for Victor, and grinned- showing a row of golden teeth studded with a shimmering diamond. Each tooth was a target that Victor vowed to shoot out, but first it was the witnesses he would take care of… Looking to his left, he spotted a bum under a pile of newspaper. "Ah! Mistuh Roman…" Came Sugar's voice as he started walking toward the child, his guards flanking him on each side. Victor looked to his right, spotting nothing but the unforgiving sea. "Ah hope you have mah money." He said as he got within spitting distance and stopped, taking his cane up in both hands and slapping it against his palm. He was still grinning as Victor shook his head, "No. No money…" The child replied as he slipped the pistol from his back and whipped it around. The shots where blindingly fast, the first one penetrating the Bums skull, the second killing the first bodyguard and the third killing the second. All three men dropped so fast it left Sugar stunned. Dropping his cane he took a step back and pulled out his own gun- a gold plated ruby-encrusted monstrosity of a Desert Eagle. The thing flew from his hands as Victor shot it out of his grasp and walked forward, "I am Victor Roman." He say's simply, putting the pistol in the mans face. "Jesus Christ!" Came Sugar's reply as he triped and fell to the ground, shuffling backwards. "Hey man! We can cut uh deal…" He begged and pleaded, holding up his hands to ward off the assault. Victor tilted his head and looked thoughtful, the presence of his pistol and the bearing and demeanor he carried himself making Sugar look like he was about to piss his pants.

"Thats a nice coat your wearing…" Victor said simply as he grinned, "Its gonna be a shame for you to bleed all over it." Bang, blow out the kneecap. The explosion of gore was disgusting as the bullet tore through bone and cartilage, putting a hole in the coat as well. Sugar screamed, "Shut the fuck up. Take it like a man…" Victor said as he knelt down and pistol whipped the man accross the face, grabbing him by the lapel and sticking the barrel in his eye. "Why did you do it?" He asked as he shook him, "My mother didn't go to you for drugs! Why did you kill her!?" The man whimpered a meager, "It wasn't me…" Before Victor whipped him again. "Bullshit. Your fuckin' dead…" Click. The hammer is pulled back. "Alright alright! Don't kill me… it was… Geovani. He sent me to kill your mom Ah sweah!" Eyes narrow as victor stood up and put his back to the dealer. "Really?" He asked, Sugar nodding and starting to crawl away. "Thanks." Pop. The round split the instance of silence as the armor Piercing .45 tore a hole the size of a silver dollar through the back of the mans skull, raining gore down upon the wharf as Victor walked away…

And that was all it took, after Victor went back to Francis, Hades told him everything. "You're my son… my actual biological son." The moment wasn't peaceful. It was wrouth with distress as son screamed at father for never being there, and then wondered why he was able to do such amazing thigns. "You have the blood of a god running through your veins… I am Hades. The lord of the underworld… and you are a piece in this chess game known as Ragnarok. The stakes? Existence as we know it. The enemies? All around us and the odds? Stacked. In their favor…"

Motioning to the pistol Victor was given, "Mortis is the most accurate, and deadliest, pistol I could have fashioned for you. And that ring as well, holds my power. They allow you to channel special powers that I have vested in you, and add in with what you already have for divine power. You really think you were just 'gifted' growing up?" A smile, "You are the son of a god, Victor Roman. My Son. Bear that mantle well… and keep in touch. Your first mission as a Scion is simple: Find others like yourself… it won't be easy, and you may even get killed. But if you're anyhting like I know… you will succeed. I know it." And that was how life newly began for Victor Roman, scion of Hades.

What you see isn't always what you Get, Chump.

Victor is not a person who takes guff from anyone, and definitely not someone you'd like to cross in a dark alley. But you wouldn't be able to tell that just by looking at the man, a brief glance and all you'd see is a simple street thug. That's where most people make their mistake, that is until their eyes find the Signet Ring of Don Romanji on his left ring finger, and then they find themselves looking at one of the more dangerous men in the Mob Underworld of the Lower East Side of Manhattan Island. In the underworld, Victor is known pretty well for a man who kills from the shadows and is never seen. That's probably why noone really knows what he looks like: If you lay eyes on him, there's a decent chance you're already dead.

When he's talking business, he is cold and calculating. When he's talking casually, the man just seems to have an air of confidence about him. Sometimes it can be taken for arrogance as well, but he has definitely earned that right.


Yeah, who do you know? Who is important?

The Legend

Links to logs with event summary. Woosh!

Character Sheet

Strength 3 Charisma 3 Perception 3
Dexterity 5 Manipulation 4 Intelligence 2
Stamina 3 Appearance 2 Wits 2
Awareness 3 Brawl 2 Control (Motor Cycle) 2
Empathy 1 Fortitude 2 Investigation 2
Larceny 2 Marksmanship 3 Melee 3
Occult 2 Presence 2 Stealth 3
Survival 1 Command 3
Relic-Mortis 5 (Pistol) Relic-Onyx 4 (Ring)
Darkness: Death:
Night Eyes Euthanasia
Shadow Mask Death Senses
Dexterity Knacks: Manipulation Knacks: Perception Knacks:
Untouchable Opponent Not the Face Scent the Divine
Trick Shooter Advantageous Circumstances Subliminal Warning
Epic Attributes
Strength 0 Charisma 0 Perception 2
Dexterity 2 Manipulation 2 Intelligence 0
Stamina 0 Appearance 0 Wits 0
Valor 4 Vengeance 3 Expression 1
Intellect 1
Legend 3 Legend Points 9
Wounds 0 0 0 Willpower 7
Health -0 -1 -1 -2 -2 -4 I D

Epic Dexterity 2

  • Untouchable Opponent - Ever so Nebulous in combat, it always seems that Roman is never in the same place twice.
  • Trick Shooter - Victor is a damn good shot, especially with pistols.

Epic Manipulation 2

  • Not the Face! - Victor has a certain way of acting that sometimes makes people think twice and hesitate before hitting him.
  • Advantageous Circumstances - Victor has a way of turning situations upside down to provide him the cover he needs to escape.

Epic Perception 2

  • Scent the Divine - Roman just has a way of smelling when someones more then what they appear.
  • Subliminal Warning - Good Luck getting the drop on him.
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