Q
Other Alias Or Things People Call Him: Prince Pin, Hush Moneh
Name: Traci Seager Lord
Gender: Male
Age: 28
“People underestimate the criminal underground. They think it’s just a place where idiots gather in hordes and look dumb. Reality, we’re just as much businessmen as the businessmen in their ivory towers. We just don’t subjugate the poor into indentured servitude for the rest of their lives. Consequently because they end up dying young. Sometimes, to be successful means you have to do things that our outside of the law.”
His voice was silken, and smoothed, the slightest hint of a South London accent. He talked with a natural calm that wasn’t expected of a man trying to earn his place into the ranks of the criminal underground. There was the subtle hoarseness to his voice, he spoke as if his voice was an aging whiskey, and from the choice of words he used. The steady calm and matter of the fact tone gave the impression of someone far older than the man that stood before you. You had gotten the impression he was older, instead he was much younger than you expected.
Still he chose to present himself in well tailored suits and like to flash the fact that he made more money than you. But then again, he also wasn’t a slimeball about it either. Offering to pay for a drink you otherwise couldn’t afford. And while he may have not been as intimidating as his goons were, probably armed to the teeth underneath their suit jackets.
He himself has some expensive looking rings on his tattooed hand. Made you wonder where else he may have had tattooes. The piercings on his face added some form of individuality from the traditional form of gangster. Giving him soft and hard edges. There was something dark and edgy with a taste of class. He seemed to know it too, sitting with confidence and this look that said no one could touch him.
His teal colored irises sparkled with delight and he only stood 5’8” with a leanly built frame. You were surprising impressed by this Prince Pin wanting to become a King Pin.
Location: It really depends on where Traci is working. He owns a small home in Felicity, Ohio. But owns another home in London, England. Traci work is often an operation that has him traveling between his European connections and American connections.
Personality:
It’s clear one thing, that Q is an excellent leader. He’s a charming people person who has no problems talking to people. He never seems nervous in crowds, though that doesn’t necessarily mean he enjoys the attention. He enjoys the business side of things and enjoys a pleasant intellectual conversation with some people. A natural ambivert, he can have moments to himself to deliberate and calculate his plans. His men have always known him as a calculating individual, who plans. But even his plans have planned deviations if things don’t go quite the way he expects it.
There is something cool about Q, he rarely gets angry and rarely gets upset. It’s why most are afraid of him, because Traci the type of person who remains unpredictable and yet with the same calm, cool collective, calm he always has been known for. He’s known for firing underperforming employees with a bullet, just as much as he’s offering his hardest working employees out for lunch, and expensive wines.
Traci is about teamwork, as a leader personality he to be democratic. But everyone who knows Traci knows he still has some sense of control in every aspect. And it’s best to just keep on his cool side. Just accept the gifts and accept his offerings, rather than reject them. Turning him down often has disastrous results.
Respecting respect, he expects respect even from the lowliest criminal pool. And those who don’t show him respect gain none of the benefits he could provide.
He can be a bit haughty, but his self confidence is not unwarranted. He gets things done. And has no respect for failure or those that fail. Though everyone knows or should know any kind action he takes is honestly just a way to work people and manipulate them. Those below him are pawns, but can easily be promoted in his eyes depending on the circumstances.
History:
“I didn’t choose this life. I was born into it. Like a prince to a king. Inherited all of it. And I am not going to give it up. Come and try to take it from me.”
I remember the smell of his car. It was always boozy and tobacco with the sweat of eight different strangers. At the time I was small, stashed in the backseat with two men at 150 pounds, who smelled like the perfume of some prostitute from the brothel. Tobacco and their own body odor. They were sweating like crazy in the backseat.
I never new quite the details of their line of work, but tonight was going to be a little different. I was left in an alleyway, in the van. To shut me up I was given a coloring book and some crayons. Told to wait there. There were crackers, and juice in the cup holder. He promised we'd go out for burgers and fries if I didn't get out of the car and bother him.
It was raining that night. Rolling thunder made loud noises. I was eight, but I knew what the sound of a gun made. It would crash into a cacophony of sound. As thunder and gunshots came together as one chorus. One of nature, the other man made sounds.
I was coloring in a book of zoo animals. Though I don't quite remember why I was turning my giraffe's fur purple. I just knew that I liked it. Kicking back my feet, taking sips of apple juice, innocently naive to what the grown ups were doing.
The van door slid openly quickly. My father was drenched. The rain had soaked into his thick wool coat, his suit pants looked soaked. He was a big man, most grown ups were afraid of him. He had big hands, big fingers too. He was stocky, but built like a tank.
I just looked at him with an innocent eye gazed.
“Get your coat on,” he told me, reaching in starting to unbuckle me. I never got out of the car, till we left the location. Though I didn't dare defy an instruction from my father either. He grabbed my wrist, yanking me with a tough tug, to pull me out of the van. He had me standing over his large frame, as he roughly put on my coat. Lifting up the hood, he stood up, “Get inside.” he grumbled another instruction.
I did so. I did so while jumping into the rain puddles. Wickedly guilty of being a child. The other men watched me. The big b's son. The big's legacy. One of the big's legacies. There were other kids. From the other big men. Though I rarely got to see them. Rarely got to play with them.
My father told me once, they were to rich, living in big fucking houses we'll never afford to want to play with me. That's what I never understood. Dad was considered one of the biggies. Yet, we didn't have a big house. We weren't swimming in money.
“You sure this is going to work?” one of the big guys, who they nicknamed Easy Dollars, I don't know why.
“Traci, you want Micky D's?” my father asked me.
I nod, but he glares at me.
“Yes,” I said loudly with a wide grin.
“Than stick your hands in that box and cut the green wire,” my father tells me, handing me some wire cutters.
I skip on over. Easy Dollars is holding the flashlight to a box, inside the glass is the prettiest necklace I have ever seen. My dad tells me the green wire, so I look for it with the flashlight beaming straight into the wired box. I do it because you do what my father ask.
Beside if I wanted a happy meal, it was best I did what my dad asked. That's how an eight years old mind works, especially when your dad is very important to you.
I cut the green wire. There was a moment of silence between the grown ups. I wasn't exactly sure what was going on. Then there was a cheer.
“That's it!” my father told me proudly, clapping me on the shoulder with his big hands. I didn't see the significance in this moment, until much later.
“I did something good?” I asked him, I remember it was a question because up to now I had been ignored when they were on cases. This was grown up work. Now though the grown ups, were excited. They liked me. I wasn't ignored any more. They started pointing to the other boxes.
“Kid get this one,” Mac told me pointing to another box, he was one of the men that sat next to me in the backseat. He was large, but not like my father. He was soft and flabby.
I move on over because the grown ups are happy. Since I did what I was asked, I am happy because I get a Happy Meal.
I remember moving from box to box. The grown ups seemed really happy by this. I just didn't know why until much later in my life. They swept the jewels and artifacts into bags. The rain seemed to slow by the time we got outside. I remember staring at my father. Who pulled down my hood to ruffle my brown hair.
“Proud of you,” he told me kissing my forehead.
“I want a race car,” I tell him, when we get into the van. Looking back it makes me look like I didn't care. It's probably true, I didn't. I didn't care because I didn't know back then. I didn't know, all I knew was that I could get anything I wanted because my father was happy.
“And we'll get you that race car,” Mac tells me, helping me into the van, and buckling me in. I sat in the middle because I was the smallest. I remember going back to my giraffe at that moment. The attention span of not really having one.
“Why is the giraffe purple?” Mac asked me.
I shrugged.
“I liked it purple,” I told him, they laughed.
“You have that right,” Easy told me.
“I know,” I responded.
“Now Traci, be nice to Easy,” my father says behind the wheel.
I swing my legs back and forth.
“Smart mouth,” Mac tells my father, my father just laughs.
“He can be,” my father responds to Mac, who just laughs.
What’s your character mixed up in?: Money Laundering, though this is no small business. Traci’s no small thinker and has been looking to expand his business efforts. Its why he’s been stepping his foot into the American economy a bit. Traci’s life goal is to become a King Pin like his father. Be considered a Big. And he’s not going to accept anything lower.
Misc:
Traci been trying to get into the street racing business. Mostly just a hobby because Traci a typical “kid”, he likes fast cars and sees money in the business.
Traci been called the Prince Pin by some in his crew, mostly because Traci never been the type of person to look small. He looks big and tries to make as many connections as he can. Manipulating whom he finds is important to his business.
Prince Pin a bit of a joke parodying King Pin
If it wasn’t clear Traci likes good cars, fast cars, he also like tattoos. He kind of describes himself as a “inkhead”.
Traci also likes good well fitting suits. While born in a London criminal organization, he likes the noir movies of old. Like Godfather. The Big Combo. Taxi Driver. Goodfellas. Just to name a few. He finds it important to keep a good image up.
Theme Song:
"Help! I've been bitten by a centipede and I need to see the doctor!"
And I agree to the Player Agreement. Yes
Originally Posted by Mr.Cynic
COPYCAT!
So glad to see you, love
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