Rejected Personal Biography | Bittu Barbaroo | 130355

[Bittu Barbaro]

Name: Bittu Barbaroo
Gender: Male
Age: 50
Race: White
Nationality: Indian
Place of Birth: Little Havana, Vice City
Sexuality: Straight
Weight: 70 kg
Height: 6 ft
Eye color: Ember-lead
Hair color: White with grey streaks
Tattoos: Chest, both hands, Both feet

Bittu Barbaroo – My Story​

I came from Little Havana, Vice City. Streets hot, loud, smells of frying oil, the ocean salt stuck to your shoes. I was the guy with the smile, always joking, always trying to make people laugh — not ‘cause it helped me, but ‘cause it was easier than letting ‘em see the cracks in me. Life there? Shit, it broke me more than once. People I trusted grinned at me while stabbing me in the back. I laughed with ‘em anyway. It’s all I knew how to do.

“Keep smiling, Bittu. Ain’t nobody gonna care if you cry anyway,” I told myself most nights.

Dreams? Vice City’s full of ‘em. Problem was, the city don’t pay the rent on dreams. I got tired. Tired of being punched down by people and life alike. So I left. Packed my few things, a suitcase with holes, and my stubborn pride, and I walked out. Didn’t look back. Thought Los Santos would be different — a city where nobody asks about your past, where you can hide in shadows.

For a while, I did. I stayed quiet, did odd jobs, drove cars for whoever needed it, fixed broken shit, stayed under the radar. I liked it. I thought I could breathe. But you can’t run from everything. One night, walking near some dumb liquor store, I saw ‘em — kids cornered by a couple of idiots. My chest got tight. My past hit me in the face like a brick. I didn’t think. I just acted.

“You don’t leave ‘em like this… not if you can still stand,” I muttered, pushing and shouting, running, protecting.

I saved them. Just like that, without asking for a medal. They started following me. Not because I wanted it — I didn’t — but because they needed someone. I became the center of this messy, loud, half-legal, half-not family. We laughed on rooftops, fought in basements, shared cheap meals and cheap wine. Muzan was there, my right hand, the only one who could tell me “no” and still have me listen.

“Family ain’t blood, it’s who stands when shit hits the fan,” he said, grinning like he already knew the world was gonna hurt us anyway.

Then came the accident. Car spun out, engine screaming, metal crunching. Woke up in hospital, bruised, stitches in places I forgot I had. My past slapped me awake. I knew I couldn’t lead them like this — my shadow got too heavy. I handed the family to Muzan. No speeches, no tears. Just business.

“Take ‘em. I’ll clean what I can. Don’t fuck it up,” I said.

Next stop, LEO trainee. Uniform awkward, boots too stiff, shaving cuts on my face — felt like a damn joke at first. Rules everywhere. Forms, papers, stupid protocols. But I adapted. I had to. Nights on the highway, cold coffee, traffic stops, long stakeouts. I learned fast. People started respecting me. Not ‘cause I smiled — that’s the easy part — but because I did what needed doing, without whining.

“You can’t serve two masters,” some old captain said once, smoke curling from his cigar. “Pick a side.”
I didn’t. I just learned how to stand in both worlds without breaking.

Years passed. Assistant Sheriff of SAHP. DOE Director. More papers, more influence, more power than I thought I wanted. I learned the weight of bureaucracy, how to make a clean man look dirtier just by asking the right question. I learned that the system isn’t broken — it’s just dirty, and knowing where to push gets results.

At night, I returned to the family. Checked in. Made sure no one got hurt unnecessarily. Pulled strings quietly, closed doors, opened safe paths. Public saw a respected officer, a clean man. Few knew the debts I carried, the compromises I made.


Finally, I quit the DOE. Didn’t burn bridges, didn’t scream. I just walked back to the family. Older, heavier, scars lining me like maps, still smiling that same old smile. Hands rough, voice tired, heart full. I led them again, not as a king, but as someone who’s been through hell and back, and wants the kids to laugh at least a little.

“I left once to hide. This time, I came back to fight. Ain’t for me alone. It’s for us,” I told one kid who looked like he wanted to run.
Muzan laughed behind me. “You always sound like a sermon, man.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But we ain’t dead yet, are we?”

I keep my eyewear cam on, lawyer on standby, radio tucked away. Ledger heavy, debts carried, past alive in my mind. But I smile. Still crack jokes. Still pull kids out of trouble. Still walk the streets like someone who knows the cracks but isn’t falling through them yet. And if the city ever swallows me whole? Fine. I’ll just make sure it leaves a few alive who’ll remember the joke, the smile, and the man who gave a damn when it mattered most.

“We did what we had to,” Muzan said once, coffee in hand.
“Yeah,” I said, “and we’ll do it again. Just keep breathing, and don’t screw it up for the kids.”

Outcomes: ​

1. Bittu keeps a hidden, waterproof ballistic camera in his eyewear 24/7 & don’t need to refresh it. The footage uploads straight to a secure server in real-time, and if he dies, his lawyer can grab it to build a case or use it as evidence.
2. Bittu can handle a 1v2 situation real easy thanks to his LEO and SWAT training, without breaking any server rules or Fear RP (he’ll show fear only if the RP actually calls for it).
3. Bittu can provide info to both legal and illegal groups for a maximum bribe of 100k, all balanced for RP.
4. Bittu can be a citizen hostage for up to 100k or even a LEO hostage if the scenario needs it, depends on how things play out.
5. Bittu ain’t scared when two guns are pointed at him, you need at least three people with guns to even have a shot at taking him down.
6. Bittu can recognize anyone by clothes, face, voice, or even the way they move from past RP, without checking ID or metagaming.
7. Bittu is a solid driver, can handle rough roads, dirt, sand, gravel in most cars (supercars? nah. Mountains? only SUVs or off-road stuff).
8. Bittu can fly a helicopter in crowded areas and land it safely, thanks to all that pilot and SWAT training he’s done before.
9. Bittu can pick up any weapon from the ground to defend himself if it’s not in the middle of an active gunfight, following the rules.
10. Bittu can try to disable a nearby bodycam using /try two times per situation, but gotta use it carefully ‘cause IC consequences will bite if he abuses it.

 

[Charan Chowdary]

On Consideration​

 

[Charan Chowdary]

Bio Rejected

Don't use AI in your bio​