<b>Re: !!!BROKEN HOME: DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY RP!!!</b><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><div class="bbImageWrapper lazyload js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="http://www.nccoastonline.com/NIE/images/nazi-flag.jpg" title="nazi-flag.jpg">
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<b><u>Derek Green (22) Neo Nazi</u></b>​</div><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#800000"><b>With a pained groan Derek awoke. Laying on the floor of a bar Derek rubbed his head as he slowly sat up. As he opened his dry eyes slowly, with the taste of beer and whiskey in his dry mouth he saw his other young men and women like him laying unconscious around him sleeping on both the dirty, sticky black vinyl floor. In his left arm a needle still hung, casually he pulled it out and threw it away. He shook his head as he groaned, the only sound in a room full of silence. Derek and his friends were all members of a local Neo Nazi gang whom the leader owned the bar in which they slept. Another night, another party; Sex, Drugs, Booze, fighting and hate filled preaching and brain washing. Looking to a clock on the wall Derek caught the time, 2:03pm. With a sigh he slowly stood up, still tired and in need of his bed. His body battered and bruised, the numbing effects of the drugs and alcohol long since worn off. Stretching reluctantly he let out a groan as pains shot through his body. Derek was 6'3" tall with a strongish build, his head as expected his shaved as is his face. His arms &amp; torso are covered in Nazi related tattoos also his neck and face are tattooed the most noticeable being the swastika on the centre of his forehead. He was clad simply in a pair of steel toe capped black combat boots which had a pair of black combat pants tucked into them &amp; a white vest which showed off his tattooed arms and neck. <br/>
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Once standing Derek walked over to the bar, leaning over it he grabbed a glass and filled it with water. In one swift movement he threw his head back and brought the glass to his lips as he consumed the cold water which relieved his dry throat. Once finished he set the glass on the bar. He then turned away from the bar and his eyes scanned the floor littered with unconscious people desperately searching for his black bomber jacket. He needed a cigarette and they were in his jacket. Unfortunately most of his friends owned the same jacket, after all they all seemed to wear a matching sort of uniform. Though eventually his eyes came to a halt as he spotted his jacket slung over a chair, a tear across the left shoulder gave it away, the results of a knife attack he was lucky to escape un harmed. Casually he stepped over the sea of people as he made his way to his jacket. Once there he picked it up and put it on. It wasnât long on his back before he was rooting through his pockets in search for his smokes.<br/>
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Soon he brought a cigarette to his mouth, before rooting through his pockets again for his lighter.</b> <i>"FUCK!..."</i> <b>He muttered angrily, he had lost his lighter and with the cigarette clamped between his lips his eyes began to scan the ground again in search of a lighter. He was quick to get down on his knees and go through the pockets of a young girl who was quiet clearly unconscious. After a few seconds of search he found a lighter. Whilst still on his knees he lit his cigarette and pocketed the lighter. Taking a long hard inward breath before blowing out blissfully out his nostrils. He grinned happily as he stood up. Turning to the door he made his way out of the bar and out onto the street. The sunlight almost blinding him as he covered his eyes with his left arm before walking down the street in the direction of home.</b><br/>
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<b>As always Derek's appearance got him a lot of attention; people would avoid him and cross the road instead of pass him on the sidewalk, others would simply watch him from a far in disgust, while some brave few would shout abuse and sometimes even try to pick a fight. But today no one bothered Derek and in 20 minutes he was home. Casually climbing the steps of the porch he pushed the door of his family home open and stepped in. It wasnât long till his heavy boots trampled up the stairs loudly as he made his way to his room. His room was to be as expected; untidy, Nazi related posters and images on the walls, empty beer cans and other trash cluttered around the place, an American flag covering the single closed window. Derek entered his room slamming his door behind him before dropping onto his bed fully clothed as he rested happily.</b></span>