Okay, charsheet is ready. Still need to get myself a picture—I'll work on that.

[b]Name:[/b] Finnegan Witt
[b]Age:[/b] 46
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Weapons:[/b] A regular Glock 19. 15 rounds a mag, 9mm, silver bullets.
[b]Appearance:[/b][hider=Finnegan][img=http://f.cl.ly/items/393l3f3V2V0r2u3g0O1z/Finnegan.jpg][/hider]

Standing just below six feet tall, Finnegan isn't a particularly imposing sight. His wrinkles are deeper than you'd expect and his hair is completely grey, making him look older than his forty-six years.

[b]Personality:[/b] Bitter and sarcastic. Seems the sarcasm comes with the job. While he'll often speak to and treat the others like they're a bunch of youngsters, he knows they're his equals. He's happy to be on the team.
[b]Bio:[/b] "It's something of a bloody cliché, isn't it? An Irish priest who stopped believing in God and began playing with the dark arts and who's a little too fond of whiskey.

"I still believe in Him, mind you. I've just realized that whatever He's doing up there, he's not terribly concerned with what's going on here on Earth. Ghosts, spirits, they answer when you call.

"I always knew I wanted to be a priest. Felt the calling ever since I was a lad. Some years ago, I began to see things. Hear voices. Naturally, I was diagnosed with all sorts of issues. But in the end, I realised the things were real. From beyond the veil. 'Course, people don't take kindly to a reverend preaching about ghosts. If I hadn't left Ireland myself I'd've been run out. It's hard telling people to believe in a God who doesn't care about His children. Perhaps it's for the better. I do good here."
[b]Other:[/b] Something of a computer wiz.