I'm still down!
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𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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.
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.
𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞
Patrick O'Reilly
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫
Male.
𝐀𝐠𝐞
22.
𝐎𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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.
𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲
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.
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.
𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝
"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.
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.
Threw up a character story. Feel free to deny me, just thought I'd express my interest that way. ;)
Chucked one up in a sniper/recce role.
Name: Stephen Rafferty
Callsign: "Howler"
Age/Gender: 27/Male.
Nationality: Canadian.
Appearance:
Rank: Corporal
Preferred Role: Recce/Sniper/Designated Marksman.
Brief Background:
Born and raised in small town Nova Scotia, after graduating high school Steve was left with few options. He tried university, he tried working on a fishing boat and that only ended with entire pay cheques being blown on cocaine. Hungover on a Wednesday, Steven stumbled in to his local Canadian Forces Recruiting Center and found himself in basic training out of St Jean, Quebec. After that, he completed infantry school in Wainwright and was posted to the 3rd Battalion, Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. During his first tour in Afghanistan, Private Rafferty proved himself to be an effective member of a recce detachment.
Skilled at calling in artillery and identifying high value targets, he was eventually given a sniper course, in which he excelled. His second tour in Afghanistan saw him as a member of the 3rd Battalion's sniper detachment. After performing an op with elements of a joint Canadian-American special operations task force, he was recruited in a marksman role for the Canadian JTF2. On Task Force Zero's latest operation, Stephen has been dropped off three days in advance with only a Barrett M82A1, a Glock 21 and some other necessities.
Callsign: "Howler"
Age/Gender: 27/Male.
Nationality: Canadian.
Appearance:
Rank: Corporal
Preferred Role: Recce/Sniper/Designated Marksman.
Brief Background:
Born and raised in small town Nova Scotia, after graduating high school Steve was left with few options. He tried university, he tried working on a fishing boat and that only ended with entire pay cheques being blown on cocaine. Hungover on a Wednesday, Steven stumbled in to his local Canadian Forces Recruiting Center and found himself in basic training out of St Jean, Quebec. After that, he completed infantry school in Wainwright and was posted to the 3rd Battalion, Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. During his first tour in Afghanistan, Private Rafferty proved himself to be an effective member of a recce detachment.
Skilled at calling in artillery and identifying high value targets, he was eventually given a sniper course, in which he excelled. His second tour in Afghanistan saw him as a member of the 3rd Battalion's sniper detachment. After performing an op with elements of a joint Canadian-American special operations task force, he was recruited in a marksman role for the Canadian JTF2. On Task Force Zero's latest operation, Stephen has been dropped off three days in advance with only a Barrett M82A1, a Glock 21 and some other necessities.
I'd like to join up as a member of a recce det or something. Canadian character from JTF2, let me know if there's a spot and I'll whip up a character sheet.
Any room here for an older character? I'm thinking a cop or active duty military, possibly special forces. Let me know.
Coughlan lit the end of a Lucky Strike cigarette and exhaled out through the window. "You driving me will get us both killed. I know my folks are gone. There's no use in going back." He looked across at the police officer. "What happened to your little girl?" It's not often that Michael Coughlan feels compassion for another human being, but this lady stopped to pick him up and he couldn't really help himself.
"I ain't gonna sit here and lie and say that I trust you. I don't, not yet. But I'm willing to help you out, since you were so kind as to help me out back on the road." Michael took another long drag and exhaled through his nostrils. "And to top it all off? You're looking past what I did before everything went to shit, same way I'm looking past your former occupation."
@Love Me Dead
"I ain't gonna sit here and lie and say that I trust you. I don't, not yet. But I'm willing to help you out, since you were so kind as to help me out back on the road." Michael took another long drag and exhaled through his nostrils. "And to top it all off? You're looking past what I did before everything went to shit, same way I'm looking past your former occupation."
@Love Me Dead
He eyed the policewoman and shrugged his shoulders. "I was gonna try to make my way back to Boston, but that ain't gonna happen. Not with my car fucked. As for the shooting? It had to be done." He looked out the window as he told the lie, knowing very well that what he did was something that was completely unnecessary. "You know, before all of this shit happened. I wouldn't of been caught dead in the front seat of Boston PD cruiser. If one of my colleagues saw me here? You'd find me in the trunk of a car on Em street, two in the chest, one in the head. That oughta give you the idea of where I'm headed. Back home, to Southie. See if my folks are still around. I doubt they are, but I ain't ready to give up on my ma and my brothers. Family's the only thing I've ever had in this world."
He closed his eyes and let a memory flood his vision. It's October 31st, 2014. Halloween. The order had gotten past down from the boss, Seamus Connelly. Jackie Fitzpatrick from Magnolia street had to go. They put the hit on Mike Coughlan, an opportunity to make his bones and get in with the upper echelon of the organization. Mike dressed up with one of those old Scream horror movie masks, a black hoody, black sweatpants and black sneakers, with plastic bags tied over them. He wore a pair of black leather gloves and carried a suppressed Glock 19 handgun. He knocked on Jackie's door three times and when he answered, Mike spoke three words. "Trick or treat." Before shooting Jackie execution style with the suppressed Glock. Coroners dug a total of thirteen slugs out of Jackie's face and chest and the Boston Police Department lost it's star criminal informant. Michael's clothes were burned, the pistol was dismantled, encased in cement and dropped in to the ocean, from a fishing boat three miles off the coast and Michael earned his name as a competent hitter and enforcer for the Connelly crime syndicate.
@Love Me Dead
He closed his eyes and let a memory flood his vision. It's October 31st, 2014. Halloween. The order had gotten past down from the boss, Seamus Connelly. Jackie Fitzpatrick from Magnolia street had to go. They put the hit on Mike Coughlan, an opportunity to make his bones and get in with the upper echelon of the organization. Mike dressed up with one of those old Scream horror movie masks, a black hoody, black sweatpants and black sneakers, with plastic bags tied over them. He wore a pair of black leather gloves and carried a suppressed Glock 19 handgun. He knocked on Jackie's door three times and when he answered, Mike spoke three words. "Trick or treat." Before shooting Jackie execution style with the suppressed Glock. Coroners dug a total of thirteen slugs out of Jackie's face and chest and the Boston Police Department lost it's star criminal informant. Michael's clothes were burned, the pistol was dismantled, encased in cement and dropped in to the ocean, from a fishing boat three miles off the coast and Michael earned his name as a competent hitter and enforcer for the Connelly crime syndicate.
@Love Me Dead
He eyed the lady in the Boston PD cruiser and shuddered. "Alright, give me a second kid." Michael spoke with a thick Bostonian accent, typical of a white Irish kid from the projects. He scooped the Mossberg 590 off of the ground near the deceased WPD officer and clambered in to the passenger side of the Boston PD cruiser. "Two days after posting bail and I'm riding with Boston's finest. First time I've ever been in the front of a cruiser. What's ya name sweetheart? I'm Mike. Mike Coughlan." His eyes wandered from the police woman's facial features down to her body and eventually back up to her face.
A sly smirk was plastered on his face for the duration of the ride.
A sly smirk was plastered on his face for the duration of the ride.
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