O'Reilly stands at six foot two and he weighs around one hundred and ninety five pounds. He has blonde hair and blue eyes with a fair complexion. He's currently sporting a blackened right eye and a crooked nose. Patrick's face is decorated with numerous scars, most notably a deep scar that runs from below his right eye and down to his chin. He has a tattooed of a ski mask wearing gangster wielding an AK-47 over his chest, the text below reads: "Rest in Peace Jimmy B, 1992-2012." A fighter by nature, Patrick's hands are decorated with numerous scars and sunken knuckles.

He's not the type to dress smart, preferring to maintain an inconspicuous demeanor. He's currently wearing a plain black hoodie and a pair of Wrangler jeans with a bulge in the waistband. A blue Toronto Blue Jays baseball cap is worn low over his brow, hiding his eyes. He dons a battered black G-Shock watch on his right wrist. He's known to occasionally reveal the firearm in his waistband during altercations or arguments, if doing so, the handle of a Glock 21 .45 would be put on display.

Patrick O'Reilly

Male.

22.

Patrick is a low level member of Baltham's Irish mob, nicknamed "The Flannigan mob" by media outlets. Patrick operates underneath a crew that specializes in murder for hire and violent armed robbery, headed by notorious gangster Philip "Hacksaw Phil" Callahan.

Patrick was raised in low income housing on the city's south side, he grew up scavenging and fending for himself. This coupled with his current line of work has resulted in a certain degree of intuition. He knows what streets are heavily populated, what alleys lead where and which streets are dead ends. He is weary of those he meets, stereotypical in the sense that he assumes everyone meets is a cop. The kid's a fighter and will do whatever it takes to make it out on top. He knows how to use a firearm, but not particularly well. He's dead on when engaging anything under fifteen meters.

O'Reilly is known to be a hotheaded prick, especially when alcohol is involved. He'll start a fight with somebody just for looking at him wrong. He's developed one Hell of an addiction to cocaine, all though not a heavy addiction. He's going to be irritable and annoyed when he runs out. If in the company of a police officer, it should be pointed out that Patrick has a warrant out for his arrest for involvement in the shooting death of a member of a Blood set on the East side.

"All you gotta do is pull the trigger, kid. That's it, pull the trigger and you're in. No more nickle and diming on the street, trying to make ends meet. You do this and you're one of us, that's it." Phil smirked at Patrick, knowing the kid was soaking it up like a sponge as he passed him the Smith and Wesson snub nosed revolver. James "Jimmy B" Burns let out a scream that was muffled by the duct tape over his mouth. "You know what this guy did, kid? He's a fucking rat, trying to sell us out to the cops." He could feel the hatred flowing through his veins as he looked James in the eye. He looked back at Phil and grimaced, before turning with the pistol in his hand. Patrick raised the weapon in to a steady one handed aim on Jimmy's chest and squeezed off a shot.

Patrick jerked his hand up when he pulled the trigger and hit Jimmy in the neck instead of the chest. The jugular was struck by the round, dark arterial blood splashed against the floor and as every ounce of life left Jimmy's body, every ounce of innocence left Patrick's. The rest of the night was a blur. Patrick helped Phil saw off Jimmy's arms, legs and eventually his head. They dumped the body parts in dumpsters scattered all over the city's South side and in turn, received an envelope containing fifteen thousand dollars. Fifteen grand and all he had to do was pull a trigger. It'd only get easier.

"You cocksucker, didn't we tell you not to push dope south?" Jamal spit at his captor, staring down the barrel of the MAC-10. His friends Bernard and Luther weren't involved, they weren't even a part of the set. They were just at Jamal's place to smoke, that's it. "I'm eighteen bruh, I don't want none of this. That's the last time, I swear. Shit ain't gonna happen again." Patrick looked down the sight of the MAC-10 and shook his head. "That was good enough last time. You should of fucking listened." The three men were found dead in a studio apartment the following morning, riddled with bullets.

A gang war soon broke out. An illegal card game got robbed on the South side. A burned out car was found on the East side the next week with four bodies inside, two of them children below the age of nine. A woman was raped down South, a pimp was found in a dumpster outside of a local pizzeria, castrated. It went back and forth for weeks, shootings, stabbings, robberies and eventually a car bomb. The local Bloods set was finished and replaced with a crew that Hacksaw Phil approved of and advised by his apprentice, Patrick O'Reilly.