Post by Connal Reid on Jul 20, 2011 16:50:17 GMT -5
Name: Connal Reid
Age: 27
Date of Birth: April 1st
Team Favorite Color: RED
Class: Pyro
Gender: Male
Languages: English
Personality: Tries to be friendly, but is usually more quiet around new people. Very possibly fears being judged and/or rejected, as he looks to be more extroverted around those he has known for a while. Seems to enjoy observing things, especially wildlife, which could be because of living in a large city most of his life. Somewhat childlike, but doesn't appear to be truly offended easily. Protective of his cassette tapes and "boombox." Often hums, unless it bothers others, and sometimes sings loudly when he thinks he's alone (usually to those cassettes).
History: Born and raised in Detroit, Michigan. Often picked on in school, but was able to get good grades, despite some of the more ruthless children dubbing him "Conny." Father was a mechanic, mother didn't work and died shortly after giving birth to her second child, one late younger brother. Grandparents on the father's side immigrated from Ireland. Family never did have much money. Recorded as having asthma, has been sent to the hospital once because of it, but seems to have lessened almost to the point of nonexistence as he aged. Despite this, still keeps an inhaler on him, just in case. Didn't show much tendency toward violence or arson until his high school years, when he and a group of classmates went out the night before Halloween ("Devil's Night"), and set fire to an abandoned home. He continued the tradition, later setting small fires throughout the year, trying his best not to get caught. Brother ended up joining one of the local gangs. Was reported to be trying to get out years later, but was shot to death. It is unknown if he was killed by a rival gang, or by his own. The night after his death, the gang's main headquarters was set ablaze, and although the structure was left standing, everyone inside had been killed. Authorities declared the incident nothing more than one gang attacking another. Responded to a tiny ad for a mercenary in the paper two weeks later.
Appearance:
Height: 6'6" (198 cm)
Weight: 195lbs (88.5kg)
Hair color: Red
Eye color: Blue
Image:
Roleplay Sample:
Third person:
"Gah!" Reid's arm stung a bit, but it barely registered. Had he been shot? It didn't matter. The gang was coming, the flames were roaring, and it was time to turn his homemade flamethrower on something a little more worthy. Ducking into a corner first, the redhead waited, listening to the sound of their angry shouts and pounding feet. Not yet... There! He pulled the trigger again, laughing even before the shouting turned to screams of pain. God, it was beautiful the way they flailed, how some tried to keep their heads and reach for weapons... Too bad he needed to keep his dad's work goggles on, the Michigander would have loved to see this uninhibited. Something above creaked, and a large portion of the ceiling fell, separating him from his targets. "Damn it!" They'd probably still be killed but that wasn't the point; they were supposed to die because of him. Because of what they did to his brother. Another stinging sensation, this time in his back. Reid swung around, knocking someone even younger than his brother had been down with the neck of his weapon. The boy looked frightened, the hand with the knife (probably what caused his own pain) shaking, like it could have dropped at any moment. Connal lit him up without a moment's hesitation. This was more than just a rush, he realized, it was a calling. Later he would deny it, but he had even forgotten why he was doing this, other than a need to let the fire get to everything and everyone it could. All those dead end jobs, never being able to get enough cash to get his own place, how badly he failed to protect his brother... None of it even mattered. Another loud creak brought him back to reality, making him realize he was dangerously close to cutting himself off from the exit. No, he couldn't die just yet, he had only just fully embraced his passion. Time to go.
First Person:
I had never been on an air boat, before. Even as hot as it was, and with the air smelling like both ass and an armpit, I was still enjoying the ride. The driver didn't seem very chatty, but that was alright. If he was, I probably would have lost my voice trying to shout over the giant fan. Oh, sweet, was that a gator? This was so cool. There were still a few things that worried me, though. Weren't swamps supposed to have a lot of gas? A lot of flammable gas? Sure, it might increase my flamethrower's reach, but... Couldn't it also just cause it to blow up in my face? Fuck! Gagging, I turned my head so I wouldn't be face-first in the wind. We had just gone through some kind of bug cloud... I think I even heard the driver laugh at me, but that might have just been my imagination.
Age: 27
Date of Birth: April 1st
Class: Pyro
Gender: Male
Languages: English
Personality: Tries to be friendly, but is usually more quiet around new people. Very possibly fears being judged and/or rejected, as he looks to be more extroverted around those he has known for a while. Seems to enjoy observing things, especially wildlife, which could be because of living in a large city most of his life. Somewhat childlike, but doesn't appear to be truly offended easily. Protective of his cassette tapes and "boombox." Often hums, unless it bothers others, and sometimes sings loudly when he thinks he's alone (usually to those cassettes).
History: Born and raised in Detroit, Michigan. Often picked on in school, but was able to get good grades, despite some of the more ruthless children dubbing him "Conny." Father was a mechanic, mother didn't work and died shortly after giving birth to her second child, one late younger brother. Grandparents on the father's side immigrated from Ireland. Family never did have much money. Recorded as having asthma, has been sent to the hospital once because of it, but seems to have lessened almost to the point of nonexistence as he aged. Despite this, still keeps an inhaler on him, just in case. Didn't show much tendency toward violence or arson until his high school years, when he and a group of classmates went out the night before Halloween ("Devil's Night"), and set fire to an abandoned home. He continued the tradition, later setting small fires throughout the year, trying his best not to get caught. Brother ended up joining one of the local gangs. Was reported to be trying to get out years later, but was shot to death. It is unknown if he was killed by a rival gang, or by his own. The night after his death, the gang's main headquarters was set ablaze, and although the structure was left standing, everyone inside had been killed. Authorities declared the incident nothing more than one gang attacking another. Responded to a tiny ad for a mercenary in the paper two weeks later.
Appearance:
Height: 6'6" (198 cm)
Weight: 195lbs (88.5kg)
Hair color: Red
Eye color: Blue
Image:
Roleplay Sample:
Third person:
"Gah!" Reid's arm stung a bit, but it barely registered. Had he been shot? It didn't matter. The gang was coming, the flames were roaring, and it was time to turn his homemade flamethrower on something a little more worthy. Ducking into a corner first, the redhead waited, listening to the sound of their angry shouts and pounding feet. Not yet... There! He pulled the trigger again, laughing even before the shouting turned to screams of pain. God, it was beautiful the way they flailed, how some tried to keep their heads and reach for weapons... Too bad he needed to keep his dad's work goggles on, the Michigander would have loved to see this uninhibited. Something above creaked, and a large portion of the ceiling fell, separating him from his targets. "Damn it!" They'd probably still be killed but that wasn't the point; they were supposed to die because of him. Because of what they did to his brother. Another stinging sensation, this time in his back. Reid swung around, knocking someone even younger than his brother had been down with the neck of his weapon. The boy looked frightened, the hand with the knife (probably what caused his own pain) shaking, like it could have dropped at any moment. Connal lit him up without a moment's hesitation. This was more than just a rush, he realized, it was a calling. Later he would deny it, but he had even forgotten why he was doing this, other than a need to let the fire get to everything and everyone it could. All those dead end jobs, never being able to get enough cash to get his own place, how badly he failed to protect his brother... None of it even mattered. Another loud creak brought him back to reality, making him realize he was dangerously close to cutting himself off from the exit. No, he couldn't die just yet, he had only just fully embraced his passion. Time to go.
First Person:
I had never been on an air boat, before. Even as hot as it was, and with the air smelling like both ass and an armpit, I was still enjoying the ride. The driver didn't seem very chatty, but that was alright. If he was, I probably would have lost my voice trying to shout over the giant fan. Oh, sweet, was that a gator? This was so cool. There were still a few things that worried me, though. Weren't swamps supposed to have a lot of gas? A lot of flammable gas? Sure, it might increase my flamethrower's reach, but... Couldn't it also just cause it to blow up in my face? Fuck! Gagging, I turned my head so I wouldn't be face-first in the wind. We had just gone through some kind of bug cloud... I think I even heard the driver laugh at me, but that might have just been my imagination.
