(COMPLETE Revamp of my application, thank you for the feedback!)
Name of Faction:
The Mahri Crime Family
Number of Members (Minimum of 5):
5 (and still growing)
Type Of Faction (Family, Triad, Street Gang, etc):
Crime Family / Syndicate
Ethnic Background:
Palestinian
Name of Character running the faction:
Merikh Filler
Your Discord #:
S0dak1
Your SteamID:
STEAM_0:1:216184681
Your Server playtime:
2 days, 5 hours (I know its practically nothing, but I have experience running factions on other servers)
Do you acknowledge and agree to all faction rules as detailed on the server rules page?
Yes
Do you acknowledge that your faction discord will be owned by us?
Yes
What kind of roleplay will your faction bring to the server?
The Mahri family brings a different type of RP. It’s not just a bunch of guys shooting for turf or trying to look flashy. This is a group rooted in culture and quiet control. On the surface, they run a small Palestinian café. You’ve got food, music, tea, prayer, and community. But behind that, they’re moving serious product. Cocaine shipments come in through family connections overseas and are moved through the city without making a mess.
We’re aiming for deep, immersive RP. Cultural events, coded drop-offs, loyalty trials, and in-character consequences. There’s tension between the life they came from and the one they’re building now. They’re not loud about their business, but when the Mahri name comes up, people know it means something.
How will your faction stay active and engaging?
Regular café nights with real service, used as cover for deals and conversations
Cultural events like street festivals to bring new people in and keep RP alive
Shipment runs with ambush potential or police heat
Loyalty missions for new members to prove themselves
Storylines involving betrayal, loyalty, and internal family drama
Sit-downs and no-gun meetings with other factions to build power through presence, not just violence
There’s roles for everyone. Enforcers, fixers, frontmen, café staff, smugglers. We want it to feel alive, and like it actually functions.
Organization Backstory:
The Mahri family didn’t come to America to run drugs. They came because their home was taken from them. Their village in Palestine was leveled overnight with no warning and no mercy. Haroun Mahri packed up his family and fled. They landed in a beat-up neighborhood on the East Coast in 1979 with nothing but a prayer book, a family name, and the will to survive.
They opened a café. It wasn’t much, just taboon bread, lentil soup, and strong mint tea served in chipped glasses. But it gave them purpose. It gave the neighborhood a place to gather. For a while, that was enough. Haroun worked sunrise to sunset, and his sons took whatever jobs they could get. Dock work, dishwashing, hauling crates at the market. Anything to keep the lights on.
Then came the threats. Local gangs saw the café bringing in steady business and wanted a cut. Haroun refused. He didn’t run from tanks just to start paying street punks. That decision nearly killed him. One morning in 1985, he opened the back door and lost his leg to a pipe bomb.
After that, his sons changed. They weren’t just boys helping their father anymore. They became something else.
Merikh, the oldest, stepped up as the planner. Quiet and calculating, the kind of man who watches everything before making a move. Najim, his younger brother, was different. Louder, more emotional, but loyal as they come. He had no problem getting his hands dirty. They pushed back hard, and word spread fast that the Mahri family didn’t play around.
They started protecting other immigrant businesses. First for free, then for a fee. Respect turned into power. Through cousins back in Jordan and Turkey, shipments started coming in. It started with cigarettes, then hash, then cocaine. The café stayed open, always clean and sacred, but the back room told a different story.
They had rules. No drugs in their own community. No violence near the café. Loyalty over everything. You break those, you're gone.
By 1989, the Mahri name meant more than just food and family. It meant protection. Power. Presence. Now they're in Liberty City.
Not to start over.
To take what’s theirs.
"We don’t forgive. We preserve."