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[mafia-park]

Mun Info

Name: Tasha Pronouns: Any Age: 19 Contact (Discord, twitter, tumblr): [redacted] Random Fact: I have the same birthday as Uchiha Sasuke. I used to be proud of that fact.

Muse Info

Name: Lea Prada, better known as Porsche Age:22 Height: 5'4" Gender: Female Pronouns: she/her Sexuality: Bisexual Occupation: Stripper, Prostitute Law, Loogie, Terrance, Bystander: Loogie Head canons (more the merrier!): Originally just a Hooters girl, ends were getting hard to meet, and she needed a second job. She signed on as a stripper for Loogie’s club without knowing what she was getting into, and ended up too popular for them to just let go when she got the money she needed. They forced her to quit her Hooters job, working full time as a stripper, and when a high paying customer asked for her to warm his bed, she was told to do as he said. She keeps in contact with the other former Raisins girls, and is trying to save up money to buy her way out of the stripper business.

RP Example (I couldn’t think of a good rival so I made it into her older sister.)

It wasn’t often that Porsche ran into her older sister, Maria. The bitch left years ago, saying she was too successful to stick around in a hodunk town like South Park, yet here was Maria Jane Prada, a grade-A business woman, worried look on her face.

“Well, Maria,” Porsche said, inspecting her nails, “isn’t too often you come around these parts. What do you want?”

“Mom and Dad are worried, Lea,” the woman said. “You haven’t come home and there’s… rumors.”

Porsche raised a brow.

“That you’re… working in something less than noble.”

And at that, Porsche had to laugh. “Noble? I was working as a Raisins girl since third grade and they only now notice this shit?” She laughed, loud and ugly. “Mom and Dad can blow it out their ass.”

“They want to help, Lea, this isn’t the right kind of life for you!”

The stripper’s laugh died down and she sighed. “Maria, look, I appreciate it, but I’m already in too deep. This is my life now, and if I try to leave? I die.”

Shocked, her sister stood still for a moment, before rushing forwards and hugging her. 

Unsure of what to do, Porsche gently hugged her back after a few moments. "Maria, you have to go. I don’t want you pulled into this.“

The business woman sniffled. "I’m sorry. I’ve been such a shit sister and I just-”

“Look, we’ll talk another time. I’ll get your number from Mom and Dad, but you have to go.”

Noting the urgency in Porsche’s voice, Maria left with a brisk walk, head held high in the nightlife.

As she turned back to the back room of the club, Porsche greeted the other strippers, sighing. There was no getting out of this alive, and she knew it.

[mafia-park]

Wendy Testaburger

[ MUN ]

name: matthew age: 20 pronouns: he contact: [redacted] random fact: i’m 5'6"

[ MUSE ]

name: Wendy Eliza Testaburger age: 20 height: 5'2" gender: fem nonbinary pronouns: she/they sexuality: pansexual occupation: stripper alignment: neutral / bystander headcanons: she’s curvy, very fit from doing sports all her life and from pole dancing. she’s a feminist. she’s putting herself through college by stripping. very tough, can hold her own in a fist fight and doesn’t take shit from clients who try to get handsy.

[ RP EXAMPLE ]

Lights. Heat. Music.

A normal friday night, filled with the drunken shouts of men below the stage and the constant rain of singles on her body. There’s something about being worshipped like a goddess, even by perverts in a musty strip club at 1 AM. It fuels her, makes her love what she does, and there’s absolutely no shame in it. She’s strong, independent, and she knows she’s hot as hell doing it.

Her body sways, slowly dropping to the floor before snapping back up, grabbing the pole and swinging herself around it. A quick hop into the air and one leg hooks around the metal, slowly turning her in a circle from the momentum.

Black locks fall into her face, covering one eye as she shoots a sultry look into the audience. Eat it up, boys. Eat it up.

[mafia-park]

Eric Cartman

Name: Jake Pronouns: Her/She, He/Him (It really doesn’t matter to me?) Age: 18 Contact: [redacted] Random Fact: I’m turning nineteen in about four days? I also talk about my dogs a lot and welcome more talks about pups.

Name: Eric Cartman Age: 21 Height: 6'1" Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Bisexual Occupation: During the day, working a job as a salesman. By night, he’s likely involved in doing business for Loogie. Law, Loogie, Terrace, Bystander: Loogie Headcanons: Through the years, he lost a lot of his fat. He was likely involved with the football team and from there on, kept up with working out once a week. He’s currently rather stocky with broad shoulders which makes him come off as intimidating whenever he wants to be.  He’s likely working in sales to be able to create his own kind of business soon enough, probably to become a front for his own shady workings.  He probably got involved with Loogie’s gang a while back and has been working hard to get to the top. He’s loyal to his gang, but he can be easily swayed to the other side with the right price. What he wants most is to control both gangs, but until there’s an opportunity, he sits patiently and tries hard to become as close to Loogie’s right man as possible.

RP Example:

His loafers clicked against the hard pavement, the sound resonating within the empty lot. He was currently here for pick up. If anyone were to ask him, he thought pick ups were beneath him. He put in how much god damn time into this gang? But since Loogie asked him, he was here for the eleven-thirty pick up that, from what he gathered, was bringing in some hard stuff. Not that he was surprised – Loogie only chose the good stuff; the strong stuff that got people invested, got them hooked. And fortunately, that was a business strategy Eric could respect. At least he could when if the GOD DAMN TRUCK WOULD ARRIVE. He tapped his foot irritably against the concrete, “Where the hell is it?! How long does it take to drive a damn truck?!” Angrily, he shoved up the sleeve of his coat jacket – because like fuck is he going to be dressing like a god damn hippie in this work – to glower at his watch. The arms lazily ticked forward. *11:35pm.* He let out a roar of frustration, likely scaring the two goonies that he got stuck tagging along with for “precaution or *whatever*”. His patience was wearing thin and quickly. His time was valuable, did they realize that? If someone didn’t roll up in that god damn truck right now, he’ll– There was a click behind him. He could feel something cold press against his back. Oh, god dammit. He heaved out a sigh, “Oh no. I’ve had it about up to here waiting for you douchebags… And I *am* not gonna be held up by a bunch of toddlers waving their guns like it’s the first time using ‘em.” He steadily turned around to face his now bewildered attacker. What a noob. “Well? Come on, pussy. Are you gonna do it? You already made half the effort gettin’ here!” When the man merely shifted his gun and continued not to take his shot, Eric decided he had enough. He threw his arm out, knocking the gun from the failure of what he assumed was some outside group trying to make their stand – or maybe some overconfident asswipe hoping for his chance at making a quick buck with supplies they don’t even understand. Whatever they were, he could tell they weren’t trained. Terrace sure as hell wouldn’t send an amature like this out. Once the gun was knocked away, Eric wasted no time knocking the fucker in the head. When the guy was knocked out, he wiped off his hands with an irritated sigh, “Dammit… Fucking dipshits…” He lifted his gaze to see his goonies dealing with their own attackers with far too much ease. He sighed, pulling out his phone, “That god damn truck better be in it’s damn place because I swear if that driver got killed by this… Ugh.”

[mafia-park]

Kylie Broff

Mun Info Name: John Pronouns: She/her Age: 18 Contact (Discord, twitter, tumblr): [redacted] Random Fact: I draw a lot Muse Info Name: Kyle Broflovski  Age: 20 Height: 5’3" Gender: He Pronouns: He/him Sexuality: Bisexual Occupation: Stripper Law, Loogie, Terrance, Bystander: involved with a member of Loogie’s men Head canons (more the merrier!): Eric Cartman’s favorite stripper, knows how to fight and hold his own, often seen with Eric or his friends in his line of work, became a night owl and often works late in the night getting cash. RP Example

Kyle…straight A student from the good days before he was peddling his ass on stage for money, currently he was serving a man a drink in his lewd outfit for those perverts who loved crossdressing men and twinks. He felt the side strap of his panties snap back in place with a fresh crisp ten bucks poking from the string. Kyle uttered a small, “thank you, sir…” before walking over to the bar area.

  Dancers center stage…his eyes staring and watching as any man calls him over. Thats when *he* enters… Cartman the higher up in the Loogie’s going and sitting down watching the strippers. He took a deep breath and walked over, these people were to be treated highly of. Kyle moved to the man and stared up at him, tall…not shocking. Taking his breath and prayers to any god, he muttered a- “welcome…would you like anything?” He didn’t dare touch him. He could get killed trying.    Looking the mobster in the eyes, he gulped and awaited his response from the male. What he wouldn’t expect is what the future holds for him after this daring move.

[mafia-park]

craigory

name: matt prns: he age: 20 rando fact: im a step dad of 2

muse

name: craig tucker age: 18 height: 6'3" gender: cismale prns: he sexuality: bisexual(?), male preference occupation: hired help for terrance side: terrance hc: doesnt know his real dad, frequents the strip club on nights tweek preforms, has a soft spot for younger members of the gangs, fights a LOT with Bill but they trust one another for business

RP exmp:

Craig walks into the strip club, cigarette already lit between his lips. There’s a plethora of “no skoking” signs hung on the walls, but anyone in their right mind knows not scold him of all people for it.

His favorite dancer is center stage, only just starting his performance. The blonde he aches fo meet more often, and for long durations than the paid lap dances in the vip room.

The taller male makes his way to his favorite seat, right up front, that everyone knows to leave open just for him. His eyes stay locked on the blonde’s body, contorting to the music. Craig wonders if he worries the man. Does he feel more watched with Craig’s eyes on him than anyone else’s? He should.

The cigarette between Craig’s lips needs to be ashed, and the lack of trays serves a problem. Or, it would, for anyone else. He just takes the stick and prompty puts it out on his hand, making hard eye contact with the dancer before him.